› a&eletters@sfbg.com All opening dates subject to change, ’cause that’s how Hollywood rolls. The Protector and Jet Li’s Fearless Tony Jaa’s been trumpeted as “the future of martial arts” (and rightly so — did you see Ong Bak: The Thai Warrior? Holy scalp-cracking!); Jet Li’s said Fearless will be his last martial arts picture. Torch. Passed. (Sept. 8 and 22) This Film Is Not Yet Rated Kirby Dick’s doc about the creativity-smiting Motion Picture Association of America mixes Michael Moore–like first-person investigative work with feminist First Amendment points. And it’s funny. (Sept. 15) All the King’s Men Could’ve been an Oscar grubber in 2005, when this remake was originally slated for release. Now, who knows? The oft-nominated cast includes Sean Penn, Jude Law, Kate Winslet, Patricia Clarkson, and Anthony Hopkins. (Sept. 22) Feast Project Greenlight winner — a sure sign of doom? — John “Son of Clu” Gulager debuts his horror film about tavern dwellers fighting off flesh eaters. Henry Rollins has a role. (Sept. 22–23 midnight screenings) Jackass: Number Two Oh, shut up. You know you loved the first one. (Sept. 22) The Science of Sleep The title won’t win viewers, and the ad campaign and trailers aren’t much better, but Michel Gondry’s follow-up to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is like a darker b-side of that film, with adorable Gael García Bernal in a not-sweet role and daughter-of-Serge Charlotte Gainsbourg dealing with him. (Sept. 22) The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning A prequel to the (so unnecessary) remake of the best goddamn movie of all time. Will this be good headcheese or real good headcheese? (Oct. 4) Shortbus Loved at Cannes and hyped for its sexual candor, John Cameron Mitchell’s Hedwig follow-up looks like a major turnoff, at least going by the trailer. Of course, trailers aren’t features. Will a cameo by Justin Bond as Kiki cancel out the possible deadly air of self-satisfaction? (Oct. 6) Old Joy A big favorite at Sundance this year, the second film by Kelly Reichardt — whose River of Grass is a little-known gem — features Will Oldham in a starring role. (Oct. 20) Babel Alejandro González Iñárritu (Amores Perros, 21 Grams), Cate Blanchett, and Gael García Bernal are always worth a peek; they cancel out the tiredness of Brad Pitt at any rate. (Oct. 27) The Bridge Eric Steel’s controversial and ethically dubious documentary about suicides off the Golden Gate Bridge gets a theatrical release. Curiously, IMDb.com recently listed a codirector. (Oct. 27) Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus Nicole Kidman as the photographer — the fact that the former looks and seems nothing like the latter matters little, we’re assured, because this is not a biopic but a speculation about three days in Arbus’s life. (November) Iraq in Fragments James Longley’s impressionistic and unembedded documentary isn’t “narrator-less,” as Entertainment Weekly claims. It is poetic and visually dazzling and provocative — perhaps problematic — because of it. (Nov. 10) Volver Pedro Almodóvar departs from masculine melodrama to reunite with Penélope Cruz and more excitingly, Carmen Maura; word is this riffs off Mildred Pierce the same way that Bad Education riffed off Vertigo. (Nov. 10 or 22) Casino Royale Daniel Craig as Bond. But nobody, and I mean nobody, better be trying to do “The Look of Love” — we all know it belongs to Dusty. (Nov. 17) Fuck A jazzy documentary about the most versatile and satisfying word in the English language. (Nov. 17) Tenacious D in “The Pick of Destiny” Will it be the greatest film in the world — or just a tribute? (Nov. 17) Bobby Emilio Estevez makes his directorial debut with this Altmanesque movie about Bobby Kennedy, played by Elijah Wood in a bad wig. Will it be a subtextual tribute to the Ambassador Hotel? Also, will the curse of Lindsay Lohan (who costars) continue? (Nov. 22) The Nativity Story Catherine Hardwicke (Thirteen) takes on the Blessed Virgin (Whale Rider’s Keisha Castle-Hughes). Nah, it won’t be controversial … (Dec. 1) Apocalypto … and neither will Mel Gibson’s all-Mayan adventure, sugar tits. (Dec. 8) The Pursuit of Happyness Remember when they built the fake BART station in Dolores Park? This is why. (Dec. 15) Charlotte’s Web Starring Dakota Fanning, with Julia Roberts as the voice of the spider. Will Charlotte urge us to join America Online? Why can’t they leave the classics alone? (Dec. 20) Rocky Balboa Sylvester Stallone wrote, directed, stars, punches things, and has a montage. Montage! (Dec. 22) Dreamgirls The (very) early Oscar favorite. And I’m telling you, Beyoncé’s not going to the Oscars unless she’s up for a statuette rather than delivering them. We’ll see … (Dec. 25) The Good German Steven Soderbergh directs a black-and-white George Clooney in this 1940s drama. Swoon. (Dec. 25) SFBG
Cheryl Eddy
Doggie do
Bring your favorite pooch (even if he regularly snacks on your US Weekly — dude, a tooth mark right through Jennifer Aniston’s face!) to Dolores Park tomorrow for SF Dog‘s “Dog Days of August” event.
According to the event website, there’ll be “dog arts and crafts” (presumably, made by humans with dog motifs, not actual arts and crafts made by dogs), a doggie fashion show (so Project Runway!), and a screening of Best in Show hosted by the canine-friendly San Francisco Neighborhood Theater Foundation.
UPDATE! Pics from the event after the jump.
Television: the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems
Holy crap, dude. I think my eyeballs are bleeding.
For the full selection of Dancing with the Stars contestants, including Tucker Carlson (sans bowtie — hey, how’s his head stayin’ on?), go to ohnotheydidnt via the glorious Dlisted. Be warned: the new season starts Sept 12. Cha-cha-cha!
Basehead of the class
Low-key yet brutal, Half Nelson is exactly the kind of movie Hollywood will never make. Notably, it’s entirely cliché free. There’s no deliverance for Dan Dunne (Ryan Gosling), an eighth-grade teacher whose raging crack habit is steadily taking over his life. There’s no real turnaround for 13-year-old Drey (Shareeka Epps), one of Dan’s students who’s being eyeballed for drug-delivery service by the neighborhood dealer, Frank (Anthony Mackie). And though Dan and Drey forge an alliance amid their unstable worlds — they kinda have to after Drey discovers Dan, who’s also her basketball coach, hitting the pipe after a game — the friendship is a shaky one. “I want to know consequences,” Dan tells his class, trying to get them excited about his latest history lesson (later, he’ll engage in an arm-wrestling contest to illustrate “turning points”). But in his own life, Dan can barely face another day without getting high first.
The first feature from producer-writer Anna Boden and director-writer Ryan Fleck, the unflashy Half Nelson uses subtlety to speak volumes. Its beats are succinct but intense: when Dan’s ex-junkie ex-girlfriend briefly appears, she’s rosy cheeked and sporting an engagement ring — pretty much the embodiment of the kind of hope for the future that Dan can’t imagine ever having. The film doesn’t spend much time on exposition. We never learn how or why Dan started using. Like last year’s Down to the Bone, Half Nelson burrows into the mind of a full-blown addict whose ability to fake normalcy becomes more precarious by the day. The first time the stern principal hooks Dan into an emergency meeting, it’s to reprimand him for straying from the lesson plan. The second time, he’s just taught a class on hyperdrive, with an oozing nosebleed to boot, and his double life is in full crumble.
Even as she comes to terms with her favorite teacher’s shortcomings, Drey has plenty of her own problems. Her weary mother barely has time for her between double shifts; her father is merely a voice on the telephone; and her older brother is incarcerated, a circumstance that’s the direct result of his association with Frank. To Dan’s dismay, the candy-chomping Frank insinuates himself into Drey’s largely unsupervised life, and an odd tug-of-war results. Clearly, neither man is a good father figure, not by any stretch. There’s a tense confrontation between Frank and Dan that perfectly illustrates Half Nelson’s ability to inject unpredictability into familiar movie moments. The scene also picks up a key thematic thread — can one man make a difference? — that’s echoed by Dan throughout the film, particularly in a late scene involving a visit to his grossly liberal (and liberally inebriated) parents.
Half Nelson is a film with no wasted space, and that goes double for its acting. Epps (stoic) and Mackie (charmingly manipulative) are excellent, but this is Gosling’s game from the start. His layered, sympathetic performance conveys not just Dan’s jittery freak-outs and frustrations but also his deep inner anguish. It’s what makes watching Half Nelson a wholly satisfying experience. (Cheryl Eddy)
HALF NELSON
Opens Fri/25
See Movie Clock at www.sfbg.com for theaters and showtimes
www.halfnelsonthefilm.com
Death + metal
Maybe the best eulogy ever written (and certainly the first I’ve ever read to contain the phrase “Luciferian Fire”) is this one for Jon Nödtveidt, singer of the recently split Swedish band Dissection. He was also, uh, a convicted murderer.
From the band’s official website, via ohnotheydidnt:
“As rumours have started to spread we feel obliged to confirm Jon Nödtveidt’s death. Jon Nödtveidt was a man who lived his life according to his convictions and True Will. A couple of days ago he chose to end his life by his own hands. As a true Satanist he led his life in the way he wanted and ended it when he felt that he had fulfilled his self-created destiny. Not everyone will have understanding or acceptance for his personal path in this life and beyond, but all must respect his choice.
Those of us who have met him in his last days can assure that he was more focussed, happier and stronger than ever. It is our full conviction that he left this world of lies with a scornful laughter, knowing that he had fulfilled everything that he had set up for himself to accomplish. The empty space that he leaves behind will be filled with the dark essence that he manifested through his life and black-magical work. His legacy and Luciferian Fire will live on through those few who truly knew him and appreciated his work for what it really was and still is. As our brother’s goal in life and death never was to “Rest in Peace”, we will instead wish him victories in all battles to come, until the Acosmic Destiny has been fulfilled.
For the glory of the Dark Gods and the Wrathful Chaos!
218″
“That’s GOOD news? Snakes on crack?”
On the occasion of the first San Francisco screening of the most ridiculously hyped movie of 2006 (and, quite possibly, of all time — sorry, George Lucas)…
The slither king
› cheryl@sfbg.com
Meet the individual who just may be the coolest cat in America right now — snake handler Jules Sylvester, the guy responsible for charming winning performances out of Samuel L. Jackson’s fork-tongue costars in Snakes on a Plane. Sylvester, a Hollywood veteran who’s wrangled critters on everything from Men in Black (thousands of cockroaches) to Out of Africa (lions, dogs, and owls) to Arachnophobia (duh), is bar none the jolliest person I’ve ever talked to at 8:30 in the morning on the subject of killer snakes.
SFBG: What was your first reaction when you heard there was gonna be a movie called Snakes on a Plane? Most people are, like, “Say what?”
JULES SYLVESTER: That was my reaction too. I actually laughed my head off, like, there’s no way they’re gonna keep that title. I was quite impressed that Samuel L. Jackson liked the title so much that’s one of the reasons he took the movie.
SFBG: How do you direct snakes? Are they pretty smart?
JS: No, they’re thick as a brick! But each snake has his own slightly different character. It’s snake management more than anything. They’re not trained at all. People are very vain. We like to say our reptiles love us. They really don’t give a rat’s butt.
SFBG: So for particular scenes, they would say, “OK, we need a snake to fall here,” and you’d figure out which type to use?
JS: That’s correct. I had about 450 snakes I took up to [the set in] Canada.
SFBG: [Interrupting] Did you take them on a plane?
JS: I thought it was pretty tacky to put them on a plane to do a movie called Snakes on a Plane. So I drove them! When we actually filmed, I only used like 60 or 70 at any one time. I used them for maybe two hours on the set. The temperature by that time is pretty hot, and they’re getting a little tired. You take that team out and you bring in the second team, so you never exhaust your snakes.
SFBG: What’s the fiercest snake in the movie?
JS: Definitely the albino cobra. When I put him on the airplane seat and touched his tail, he turned around and he just laid into the cushion. He just chowed on that cushion. He kinda hoped it was me. [Laughs delightedly.] That’s just his job — his job is to be very pissed off.
SFBG: If you actually encountered a snake on a plane in real life, what should you do?
JS: Cover [the snake] with a blanket. It’s an awkward one, in that I know what I would do, but Joe Blow wouldn’t know what the hell to do. It’s like, screaming bloody murder and pointing at it is the worst thing you can do — that will panic everybody. SFBG
SNAKES ON A PLANE
Opens Fri/18
See Movie Clock at www.sfbg.com
for theaters and showtimes
www.snakesonaplane.com
For the complete Jules Sylvester interview, visit www.sfbg.com/blogs/pixel_vision.
The slither king: the complete interview
This is not a story about the feverish hype swirling around Snakes on a Plane. It’s not a review of the film, because Snakes on a Plane is so critic-proof that snotty journalists like me don’t get to see it before it opens. And it’s not yet another piece in praise of Snakes star Samuel L. Jackson’s inherent awesomeness (not that I’m denying it, of course). What follows is an interview with the individual who just may be the coolest cat in America right now — snake handler Jules Sylvester, the guy responsible for charming winning performances out of Jackson’s forked-tongued co-stars. Sylvester, a Hollywood veteran who’s wrangled critters on everything from Men in Black (thousands of cockroaches) to Out of Africa (lions, dogs, owls) to Arachnophobia (duh), is bar none the jolliest person I’ve ever talked to at 8:30 in the morning on the subject of killer snakes.
Image of Albino Monocled Cobra from Chameleon Counters.
[Note: this is the complete transcript of the interview that appears, in edited form, in this week’s Guardian print version.]
May the “Force” be with you?
Somewhere between our best intentions (to rent The Constant Gardener, no less) and the new-release wall at Lost Weekend, we plunged into the vortex of Edison Force. The pull of Justin Timberlake’s movie-star debut — sundry cameos don’t count, including that worth-reconsidering turn as a flaming make-up artist in the will-Lance-Bass-get-the-girl comedy On the Line — was stronger than the Death Star’s tractor beam. Despite debuting at the 2005 Toronto International Film Festival, and boasting a somewhat prestigious cast (besides JT, you get Morgan Freeman, LL Cool J, Dylan McDermott, Cary Elwes, Piper Perabo, and an oddly coiffed Kevin Spacey), Edison Force went straight to video. And oh, we were ever about to find out why.
For sale: hooded jacket and sunglasses (slightly used)
The Smoking Gun posted the court document directing the U.S. Marshals Service to sell off Ted Kaczynski’s property — except the stuff pertaining to, you know, bomb-making and whatnot. Proceeds go to the victims. So far, no word on which online auction site will do the honors.
Gypsies, tramps, and thieves
It was Cher done him in. Oh, Bradley the time-management-challenged hippie, we’ll miss your non-sequitors about beards and whales and eagles.
The best things in life aren’t free
By Cheryl Eddy
Maxing out my inbox’s credit line today: a press release heralding the Westfield San Francisco Centre‘s September 28 grand opening. The $460 mil project is sandwiched between Walgreens and the mall that’s already down by Fifth St and Market (you know, the one with the spiral escalator — across the street from that “Jesus Loves You” guy). It’s freakin’ huge — 1.5 million square feet, to be exact.
From the curiously punctuated PR missive:
Stone’s throw
› cheryl@sfbg.com
Still several entries short of being its own disaster-movie subgenre, the miniwave of Sept. 11 cinema continues with Oliver Stone’s World Trade Center. Scrubbed of any JFK-style theorizing, Stone’s respectful take on the tragedy focuses on a pair of Port Authority Police Department officers who were pulled alive from the Twin Towers rubble 12 hours after the buildings collapsed.
The film’s tagline promises “a true story of courage and survival,” and indeed World Trade Center goes for the uplift-amid-tragedy jugular. The 9/11 movies may be here, but it’s clearly still too early to dramatize the events without offering catharsis. Even United 93, Paul Greengrass’s take on the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania, spun its obviously devastating final moments into a tribute to its hijacker-defeating passengers. World Trade Center stacks the sentimental deck even higher by plopping movie stars (Nicolas Cage, Maria Bello, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Crash’s Michael Peña) into the disaster. While United 93 had a nearly documentary feel, with nonactors in key roles and gritty handheld camerawork, World Trade Center is classically cinematic, foregoing a sprawling retelling of the 9/11 story in favor of a tightly compacted exploration of human determination.
The day starts like any other, as PAPD cops John McLoughlin (Cage) and Will Jimeno (Peña) settle into their routine, tracking runaways and giving directions to tourists. Suddenly there’s a shadow overhead, a terrible sound, and the men are hustling several blocks to aid the evacuation of the first World Trade Center tower to be hit — accidentally, they think — by an airplane. Stone never shows the planes’ impact; within the film’s world, context (and explicit mention of terrorists) feeds in via televisions blaring in the background of nearly every scene that takes place beyond ground zero. Even when the towers collapse, trapping McLoughlin and Jimeno deep within a perilous pile of stone and metal, neither realizes what Stone assumes every viewer will already know about Sept. 11 chronology.
At a certain point, World Trade Center splinters. McLoughlin and Jimeno cling to life, chatting back and forth about pop culture (since the film is drawn from the men’s own recollections, it’s entirely likely the Starsky and Hutch conversation really took place), their intense pain, and their families. Meanwhile, Donna McLoughlin (Bello) and Allison Jimeno (Gyllenhaal) anxiously await news of their missing husbands, with golden-hued flashbacks reminding all partners of happy domestic moments they’ve been taking for granted. There’s a brief the-whole-world-is-watching montage that illustrates grief on an international level. And, of course, there’s President Bush on the news spewing rhetoric, inspiring ex-Marine Dave Karnes (Michael Shannon) to don his military gear and head to New York City to help out.
The problem here isn’t in the way Stone and first-time scripter Andrea Berloff characterize these real-life people as almost supernaturally brave under extraordinary circumstances (Jimeno’s personal encounter with Jesus is World Trade Center’s “ride the snake” moment, but it kinda works amid the ongoing theme of faith as a survival tool). And it’s not that the film disregards the people who died that day. The tone here is very, very reverent. But it’s telling that World Trade Center focuses on a success story; unlike the characters in United 93, which built off a few cell phone calls to reconstruct the flight’s last frantic moments, World Trade Center’s heroes lived to share their memories, sickly sweet what-should-we-name-the-baby arguments included.
By focusing so intently on just the McLoughlins and the Jimenos (and to a lesser extent Karnes, a rather one-note concession to Stone’s military fixation) the film leaves the door open for countless Sept. 11–related movies to come. It’s just a question of whether future filmmakers will hew to Greengrass’s example and go raw or create movies like Stone’s World Trade Center: a bit overcooked. SFBG
WORLD TRADE CENTER
Opens Wed/9
See Movie Clock at www.sfbg.com for theaters and showtimes
www.wtcmovie.com
Oh really?
Lindsay Lohan to Elle magazine, regarding her desire to travel to Iraq and put on a USO-style show for the troops:
“I’m not afraid of going,” she said. “My security guard is going to take me to a gun range when I get back to L.A., and I’m going to start taking shooting lessons. He says if I’m going to go there I should really know how to shoot. Yeah, I have a dark side. I watched all those videos on Charles Manson for a while.”
Via www.eonline.com.
You want fries with that anarchy burger?
New from Oakland’s AK Press:
The double DVD compiles a pair of films by Scorsese disciples (and lifelong friends, since meeting as nine-year-old Brooklynites) Steven Fischler and Joel Sucher.
Muay Thai one on
Tony Jaa returns August 25! [Edit: the film is now opening September 8!]
Official site here. Link to my review of Ong-Bak: The Thai Warrior here.
Ong-Bak was a massive hit in its native Thailand and earned a stateside cult following, largely thanks to Jaa’s insistence on performing all his own stunts and fights without wires or special effects. The plot, about a country boy who travels to the city to retrieve a stolen Buddha head, may have been pretty lame — but the brawls were numerous and glorious. Judging by the trailer, The Protector looks like a flashier effort from Ong-Bak director Prachya Pinkaew (an avowed martial arts movie maniac). Elephants! Motorcycles! Fire! Helicopters! Big bald white dudes going “Aaaaarrrgggh!” Tony Jaa’s feet and fists of fury! Can’t wait, dude.
Shakedown, breakdown … you’re busted
Tim Gunn’s take is, of course, exceedingly elegant.
Crawler space
Complete interview: The Descent director Neil Marshall on phallic caves, Iggy Pop-like troglobites, and good old-fashioned horror
(Caution: slight spoilers ahead!)
Director Neil Marshall (kneeling, left) on the set of The Descent. Photo credit: Alex Bailey
Doing publicity rounds for The Descent (in Bay Area theaters Fri/4), British writer-director Neil Marshall called from — appropriately enough — a cave-like environment somewhere deep within darkest Hollywood. (“I’m just stuck in a small room with no windows at the moment. Serving my time.”)
SFBG: You’ve said that you don’t want The Descent to be seen as a chick flick — which it’s clearly not, of course. What inspired you to make a horror film with an all-female cast?
NM: It’s unique in this genre, certainly. It was very contemporary, and nobody’s tried it before in an action-horror movie. The story wasn’t about them being women, it didn’t hinge on them being women — it just, simply, they were. It’s perfectly believable in this day and age that women would go off climbing, go off caving. Why not? I didn’t think it threatened the believability in any kind of way. I just thought it’d be interesting, and be a lot of fun to do. It had the potential to be a lot of fun, but it also had the potential to be a complete nightmare.
Does a Hello Kitty car justify carjacking?
If you drive through the Mission in one of these supercute babies, you are on notice, my friend.
Image from www.carview.co.jp.
Celebrity drunks — they’re just like us!
Except we’re not mean drunks who hurl offensive slurs at the cops when they pull us over…
Nor are we holding up the production of our latest major motion picture with our underage shenanigans …
We were, however, enticed into some unfortunate wedding reception dance-floor antics after tipping back multiple pints of the charmingly-named Polygamy Porter (pretty tasty, actually) during our recent visit to Salt Lake City. And by “we” I mean me. No use denying it. Photos were taken. How Star of me.
Meat-scented potpourri
By Cheryl Eddy
1) Nicolas Cage to star in Liberace biopic. (Via TMZ via Hollywood Wiretap.) I can’t decide if I’m excited or horrified, frankly.
2) A Barney Fife statue, set to be erected in Mount Airy, NC (basis for the fictional Mayberry, setting for The Andy Griffith Show) has been destroyed before it was finished. Why? Details are suspiciously sketchy, but money — not interference from lovable lush Otis Campbell — looks to be the cause. A few more deets on the “statue snafu” here. (Via Ohnotheydidnt.)
Image from The Shrine to Don Knotts
TCB, baby
By Cheryl Eddy
Somehow I found myself in San Jose — where temperatures broke 100 degrees yesterday — bringing the average age way down at the San Jose Stage Company’s final performance of Idols of the King. The show, which featured a cast of three including a mostly plausible (if vigorously spray-tanned) Elvis impersonator named Scot Bruce, managed to mix songs from all three EP eras (1950s hillbilly cat, 1960s Hollywood, 1970s jumpsuit) with a series of atonal vignettes, one of which actually included references to the Paul Lynde era of Hollywood Squares.
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t stand losing you
By Cheryl Eddy
I’m in so much shock over this week’s Project Runway elimination that it took me an extra day to post. How sad was saying goodbye to Malan — who was edited to look like a potential villain in the casting special, a snob in episode one … and a sob-story softie in episode two, his swan song? So sad even Miss USA looked a little choked up under all that spackle.
Ok, but that dress DID look like a log. Like one of those chocolate-covered yule logs, even.
Next week: the fall of neck tattoo? the comeuppance of artsy craftsy? the uncorked wrath of “I’m an architect”?
“Guardians” of the universe
By Cheryl Eddy
Coming soon to a theater near you … it’s The Guardian!
Before you (or we) get too excited, the Internet Movie Database lists no less than ten films and/or TV shows with that same title (including William Friedkin’s legendarily derided version … there are nannies, there are Druids). The latest Guardian is a Coast Guard thriller from the action-obsessed director of The Fugitive (not to mention multiple entries in the Steven Seagal canon); it stars Ashton Kutcher and Kevin Costner, who’s clearly in violation of his post-Waterworld no-movies-set-on-large-bodies-of-water bargain with the celluloid gods.
There’s no official site yet for this Buena Vista Pictures (read: Disney, currently drowning in mad Pirates booty) release, but our latest li’l cinematic namesake is currently slated for a September 29 release. Until then, you too can admire the huge cardboard stand-up trumpeting this soon-to-be-classic, now on view in the Metreon lobby.