Inju

D

Directed by Barbet Schroeder

What the heck has happened to Barbet Schroeder? It's hard to believe the same director who gave us "Koko" and "Reversal of Fortune" is responsible for this lazy and uninspired stinker.

Benoît Maginal stars as Alex Fayard, a french academic and author who is the world's foremost expert on a reclusive, mysterious Japanese author named Shundei Oe who, despite selling millions of copies of his novels, has never been seen in public. Fayard takes off for Kyoto to promote his newest book but is immediately drawn into a web of deceit and manipulation with Oe at its center. The twists pile up (like a heap of dung, I must say) as Fayard loses himself in Oe's sordid world.

Schroeder's film is really an A to Z essay in failure. From bad acting to credibility gaps the size of the Grand Canyon in Jean Armand Bougrelle's script, there's plenty of blame to go around for this mess. The film is poorly paced and poorly plotted as well, its flacidness punctuated here and there by odd detours into seemingly random sado-mosochistic behavior by its characters. The Japanese actors, bless their hearts, are made to recite an uncomfortably large amount of french dialogue that was obviously memorized word for word beforehand, leading to the odd but often seen phenomenon of characters who have flawless grammar but unbelievably thick accents in a foreign language. Maginal, a talented actor in his own right, seems to have convinced himself of the nobility of his efforts and really does give it a go, but his earnestness clashes violently with the flat delivery of co-stars Lika Minamota and Shinpei Asanuma. The film's cinematography saves it from complete ignominity, as it mercilessly bestows an air of subdued class to an otherwise risible affair.

The Chinese Botanist's Daughters

D+

Directed by Dai Sijie

The fact that Dijie Sai's paper thin "The Chinese Botanist's Daughters" won not one but TWO awards at the 2006 Montreal World Film Festival says a whole lot about the sorry quality of that event. I can only hope that such a weak offering from an otherwise talented filmmaker would be coldly received at a more legitimate film festival (say, *cringe* the TIFF?)

Myléne Jampinoi plays Min Li, a young student who is sent to study under a famed botanist during a six month internship. The sour welcome offered to her by the coarse and moody botanist is mitigated by the warmth of his daughter Cheng An. Min Li and Cheng An quickly strike up a warm friendship that (in seemingly no time at all) turns into a rapturous romance. Not wanting to part ways at the end of Min Li's internship, the two come up with a thoroughly half baked plan to remain together.

Dai Sijie's previous effort, "Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress," a thoughtful story about a pair of boys sent to rural China for "re-education" during Mao's rule, was a promising effort that married lush production values with a sober handling of the hardships faced by Chinese citizens during communist rule. "The Chinese Botanist's Daughters'" however, is a thinly scripted and at times lazy story that has at its core a romance that lacks any authenticity. The romantic relationship between Min Li and Cheng An is barely explained and they seem to fall into each other's arms almost the minute Min Li arrives in town. Their subsqequent scheme to stay together is both suspiciously naive and seems to have been engineered by writer Nadine Perront purposefully to set up a b it of faux drama that would segway easily to a tragic denouement.

As lacking as this film is in anything related to serious content, it's still beautiful to look at and if your eyes just need a quick vacation you could do worse than letting them feast on the lush scenery on display in Dai Sijie's film.

Gamorrah

B+

Directed by Matteo Garrone

Matteo Garrone adaptation of Roberto Saviano's heralded investigation of Naples' infamous criminal organization is an unflinching, authentic look at the corrosive criminal underbelly of the city and its tragic impact on the lives of its citizens.

"Gamorrah" follows five different narrative threads, none of them directly related to one another but all nonetheless linked in some way to the city's criminal syndicate. Most of the action takes place in a crumbling housing block in the city's slums, home to a number of the organizations foot soldiers.

Although Garrone's "Gamorrah" is not, as the Boston Herald boldly claimed, the "greatest gangster film of all time" it's still a pretty darn good movie. It's flawlessly authentic, benefits from fantastic ensemble acting, and gritty in an immediate, primal (if you'll excuse the pretentions associated with that adjective) way that made me feel like I'd been unceremoniously dumped in the slums of Naples and left there to dodge stray bullets. The documentary-like aesthetic of the film has been duly praised and it really is the element that stands out the most prominently upon viewing Garrone's work.

The five seperate vignettes presented in the film are too anecdotal, however, and character development suffers greatly. Although the intertwining narrative Garrone uses is more immediately engrossing, I couldn't help but feel that each character probably deserved more than the limited they were given to develop into something more three dimensional. In the same way, "Gamorrah" seems to touch on a number fo major philosophical and social issues but doesn't really stop to deeply investigate any of them. It's a bit frustrating to see a film with such intellectual depth fail to live up to its potential but asking "Gamorrah" to be everything I hoped it would be is probably asking too much, to be fair. Suffice it to say that Garrone's delivers a gripping and harrowingly authentic interpretation of Saviano's work that is well worth viewing.

Paranormal Activity

B-

Directed by Oren Pelli

Oren Pelli's underground sensation "Paranormal Activity" will go down as perhaps one of the most financially successful films of all time (relative to how much it cost to make) having cost a tiny $15,000 to make before opening near the top of the box office charts during its run in North American cinemas. The film itself, however, doesn't seem to live up to the hype, although Pelli should be commended for making such a slick looking film on such a negligible budget.

College student Katie complains to her live in boyfriend Micah about what she claims to be night time paranormal activity. In an effort to investigate his girlfriend's claims, Micah sets up a camera to watch their house's night time activity. Things quickly begin to get out of control as whatever it is that is haunting Katie begins to pick up its pace, sending Micah and Katie into a desperate tailspin of fear.

My girlfriend claimed that she was never frightened by Pelli's film and I tend to believe her, mostly because she has a strong stomach for these types of things. For hardcore scare fans, this movie just doesn't deliver. There are a few tense scenes but I think midway through the film there's a realization that Pelli is so hamstrung by his micro-budget that most of the scares will be shadows or bumps or phantom scratching. Its effectiveness wears off fairly quickly as the film wears on and by the end of it even I wasn't peering at the screen in fear of seeing something crazy pop out (and that's saying a lot, because I usually fare poorly in these types of films, I'll admit it). That said, Pelli does a lot with his extremely limited budget and succeeds in making a film that seems way more polished than its tiny budget would seem to allow. The acting, although a bit screechy and over the tope at times, is for the most part believable when it could have easily been campy or amateurish. Pelli's skill at setting an ominous mood is also beyond reproach and he often succeeds in making a rather harmless frame, such as a shot of a bedroom, crawl with uneasiness. The problem is that the payoff almost never comes and once you figure that out, the scenes quickly lose their edge. Pelli's film's weakest point is probably that is will not, in any way, stand up to repeat viewings. Whereas a psychological horror film like "Rosemary's Baby" continues to creep viewers out after they've seen it twenty times, a repeat viewing of "Paranormal Activity" is practically useless and essentially bereft of any of the power it had in its original viewing.

My Kid Could Paint That

B

Directed by Amir Bar Lev

Documentarian Amir Bar Lev's documentary "My Kid Could Paint That" is an interesting look at the many peculiarities of the modern art world and also a great example of what happens when a documentary maker is at the right place at the right time.

Bar Lev originally wanted to make a documentary about young Marla Olmstead, a four year old whose modern art, made in her parents kitchen and originally shown at a local pub, eventually turns her into an art phenomenon, fetching thousands of dollars per work. At the height of Marla's popularity, however, a "60 Minutes" special on her art raises questions as to the authenticity of her work, sending Marla and her family headlong into a media firestorm.

Bar Lev's original plan was to make a documentary that focused primarily on the modern art world and what exactly made modern art "art." The time he spends on this particular question is probably the best part of "My Kid Could Paint That," insofar as the debate surrounding the legitimacy of abstract art is a fascinating one. The fact that Jackson Pollock, whose work has often been criticized as nothing more than random drips of paint and not art, is nevertheless the artist to fetch the highest price ever at auction for one of his works ($140 million) and that the work of Marla Olmstead, a four year old who can barely string together coherent sentences or feed herself independently, fetches tens of thousands of dollars from wealthy collectors are both cause for debate. Bar Lev engages quite interestingly in a discussion on the merits of abstract art before being sidetracked midway through by the allegations that Marla's parents might be helping her complete her work. This revelation may have appeared to be a windfall to Bar Lev but I frankly felt that it detracted from what had until then been a rather solid investigation of the often whacky world of art. In the end, Bar Lev doesn't really "investigate" the credibility of Marla's work but rather decides to play a passive role as the whole story unfolds. As far as I could tell, Marla's father was almost certainly guilty of either helping her create or finish her work or even including work in her shows that was not hers at all. I would have rather seen Bar Lev ask some tough questions to Marla's father and actually nail the guy then play it down the middle. But maybe I'm just bloodthirsty.

The Spy who Came in from the Cold

B-

Directed by Martin Ritt

Director Martin Ritt's adapation of John Le Carré's novel has all the elelments of a slow burning, tightly wound spy caper but it unfortunately fails to live up to the sum of its parts.

Alec Leamas (played fantastically by Richard Burton), a jaded British intelligence agent at the end of his rope, retires to London after a botched job in Berlin. He takes up a job as an assistant librarian and meets the beautiful Nan Perry and the two start up a tentative romance that seems to give the depressed Leamas a shot in the arm. Their burgeoning relationship is cut short when Laemas is called back to duty for a final mission behind the iron curtain where he is tasked with eliminating the East German super spy, Hans Munst.

Like most film adaptations of Le Carré's work that I've been exposed to, "The Spy who came in from the Cold" seems to be filled with great ideas that fail to really translate into anything palpably exciting or intriguing. I was left with the same empty feeling I experienced after watching "The Tailor of Panama" even though Ritt's film enjoyed substantially more critical praise than the latter adaptation of Le Carré's work. There is no doubt that Ritt's adaptation is quite well done and Burton's performance is remarkable, elevating "The Spy who Came into the Cold" beyond some of the less inspired adaptations of Le Carré's work. The bottom line, however, is that I just don't find Le Carré's work that compelling. It's too far flung to seem realistic but not wild enough to just be good, old fashioned cold war era fun in the style of James Bonds' many forays behind the iron curtain. The political and social angles of Ritt's work also seems a bit thin in retrospect as Ritt portrays Laemas as a man caught between two amoral camps, both of which are equally disdainful of the lives of individuals in their pursuit of larger political victory. Although there's an element of truth in that view, I've never been comfortable with works that try to completely level the playing field and stoop to relativism when it comes to evaluating such heavy subject matter.

In the end, however, the lack of poignant or intelligent commentary on the politics of the day could have been overcome by an intriguing narrative. Ritt's work, however revered it may be in the genre, simply fails to deliver on that count.

In the Realms of the Unreal

B

Directed by Jennifer Yu

Jennifer Yu's documentary about the peculiar life of folk artists Henry Darger offers a fascinating look at the man's art but struggles to peace together the details of Darger's reclusive existence.

Darger was born in Chicago and suffered a difficult childhood, eventually being sent to an orphanage after his father's death. He eventually turned into a reclusive and quiet man, living in a one bedroom flat in a Chicago building owned by Kioyoko Lerner and her husband. Darger worked as a janitor and seemed to have no other interests or friends and led what appeared to those around him to be a lonely life. After his death, Lerner found a huge trove of art in Darger's room, featuring multicolored, wildly imaginative works, some of which were close to 12 feet tall, as well as a 15,000 page illustrated novel titled "In the Realms of the Unreal."

Despite the many strengths of Yu's work, I couldn't shake the feeling that the analysis of Darger was noticeably thin. The problem, I believe, stems from the fact that no one, not Darger's landlord, not his fellow tenants, not even those at the catholic church he attended on a daily basis, really knew Darger. Although his work reveals much about the man, his extreme secrecy makes it diffifcult for anyone interviewed by Yu to give anything approaching serious insight into the man. Yu's film thus wades rather liberally into speculation on everything ranging from his relationship with his parents to potentional psychological illnesses. None of it is malicious and those being interviewed all seem to have a soft spot for the eccentric Darger, but it still remains that no one seems to know enough about the man to offer any authoritative commentary. Yu seems content to allow Darger to be shrouded in mystery and hearsay but her film leaves the viewer feeling by the end of it like they know little more about Darger than at the beginning.

The animation of Darger's work, likely considered blashpemous by folk art purists, was rather delightful in my opinion, bringing Darger's eccentric and colorful work to life in a way that seems to befit Darger's creations. Even though Yu strikes out when it comes to her attempts at appraising Darger himself, her grasp of his art is fantastic and she succesfully emphasizes his creative process and the idiosyncracies of his world. Darger's art remains the film's main draw and his folk aesthethic, filled with fanciful creatures and bright colors, is eye popping and joyful even if it bellies the artirst's own insecurities and loneliness. What struck me the most about Darger's story, however, is how completely humans can retreat away from the real world and into an alternate universe and be, for better or worse, content there. All persons tend to retreat to some extent to a certain alternative universe of their own creation, be it their imagination, art, or any other escape, but Darger is one of the unique few to have escaped almost completely into a different reality while still staying at least partially connected to the real world. A fascinating character, to be sure.

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter....and Spring

A

Directed by Kim Ki Duk

"Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter....and Spring," the immensely talented Kim Ki Duk's best known and arguably most accomplished film to date, is a rich and rewarding tale of great symbolic and spiritual depth.

An old monk and his disciple live on a small floating temple in the middle of an isolated lake. This spiritually rigorous environment is suddenly broken when the monk's disciple falls in love with a sick girl from the outside who had been brought to the temple by her mother to convalesce. The young monk's passion soon pushes him to leave his master, a decision he will later regret deeply.

"Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter....and Spring," although a simple story, is fantastically rich in both character development and symbolism. I've always felt that Kim was one of the most "literary" filmmakers working today (if that makes any sense at all...) insofar as he seems to approach much of his work in a deliberate and calculated way that gives an immense place to detail, character, and symbolism. "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter....and Spring" is likely his most accomplished work as Kim infuses his film with layer upon layer of symbolic meaning, giving his work an incredible amount of depth in a rather short running time. Despite it's heavy Buddhist underpinnings, "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter....and Spring" is suffused with a number of universal religious truths, most specifically the emptiness of the material world and the fleeting nature of carnal desires.
Kim's immense talent as a director has often been overshadowed by his choice to focus on shocking or otherwise dicey subject matter so it's nice that he finally released a movie whose subject matter doesn't overshadow Kim's brilliance. Don't get me wrong, some of Kim's more shocking or controversial efforts were also great films but with "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter....and Spring" you can sit back and enjoy the full breadth of Kim's talent without the cringe inducing scenes or the occasional pangs of disgust that come with some of his other films.

All About Lily Chou Chou

A+

Directed by Shunji Iwai

Shunji Iwai's horrowing tale of adolescence is a shocking, beautiful, and ultimately believable rumination on isolation, loneliness, and escapism in a digital world.

Yuichi is a 14 year old boy navigating the choppy waters of adolescence with the help of ethereal singer Lily Chou Chou who he spends his time obsessing over with a linkminded band of "Lilyholics" on an internet chatroom. Lily Chou Chou provides Yuichi a measure of escape from his truly hellish school situation where bullying runs rampant, led by the morally bankrupt Hoshino who terrorizes his fellow schoolmates and even runs blackmails some of his female classmates into a forming a prostitution ring. As events at school escalate, Yuichi finds it ever more difficult to keep the gloom of his everyday life from infringing on his sole window of escape, Lily Chou Chou.

"Lily Chou Chou" is unquestionably bleak stuff and gives few glimpses of hope in the otherwise gloomy world that Yuichi and his classmates are trapped in. At the same time, it's a mesmorizing and almost ravisingly beautiful film, Iwai's beautiful visual touches being complemented perfectly by a melancholy score by Takeshi Kobayashi that makes heavy use of Debussy. The gloominess of the script, however, is tempered by Iwai's obvious compassion for his characters and their struggles and his implication that better days are ahead for Yuichi and his friends, no matter how ugly things are at the moment.
Iwai isn't Larry Clarke, meaning he isn't some old hack who thinks high school is a land of rampant drug abuse, sexual promiscuity, and generally misanthropy even though he portrays it that way in "Lily Chou Chou." Many of Iwai's other films that deal with high school aged characters (which make up the bulk of his work) seem to show a range of views on adolescence, such as the saccharine sweet "April Story" or the nostlagic and melancholy "Hana and Alice" both of which treat adolescence as a kinder and decidly gentler time than "Lily Chou Chou." My impression is that Iwai recognizes the pain and the joys of adolescences and simply maximizes them in his work in an effort to present a portrayal of youth that, although being realistic to some degree, pushes the envelope and dips into the surreal as well. I still remember high school and I can say that it often seemed like it was both the best and worst of times, a feeling that Iwai connects well with. I've always appreciated Iwai's ability to tinge his optimistic and bright films with a hint of melancholy and his more gloomy and dark pictures with moments of hope, an ability that gives all of his films greater depth.
This is Shunji Iwai's masterpiece, a wonderful, poignant, and beautiful film that demands repeat viewings.

Bright Future

A-

Directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa

Kurosawa's first major non-horror efforts proves that the prolific and oftentimes brilliant Japanese director is as versatile as he is talented.

Friends Mamoru and Yuji work together at a small manufacturing plant by day and by night, pretty much take it easy. Yuji has an interest in "music appreciation" and Mamoru, the more eccentric of the two, is trying to adapt a poisonous saltwater jellyfish to freshwater by slowly replacing the seawater in its tank on a daily basis. Seemingly out of nowhere, Mamoru viciously kills their boss and his wife, landing him in on death row. Mamoru's estranged father pops back into the picture and starts a tentative friendship with Yuji.

"Bright Future," although aesthetically similar to much of Kurosawa's other work, lacks the tightly wound narrative focus of films like "Cure" or "Séance" which is not necessarily a bad thing. The loosy goosy (aura) that surrounds Kurosawa's movie is disorienting and constantly surprising without being impossible to follow. Many of the hallmarks of Kuroswa's films nonetheless remain such as the society's often crushing impact on the individual or individual obsession with some eccentric project, in this case Mamoru's efforts to adapt his jellyfish to freshwater.

As a tale of Japan's disaffected youth, "Bright Future" might lack the emotional depth of visceral punch of films like "All about Lily Chou Chou" but it is no less on point, providing an interesting portrayal of urban ennui as opposed to the in your face tales of bullying, violence, and sexual promiscuity shown in the latter. The final scene, a brilliant long shot of a group of teens walking along an avenue in matching outfits of blue jeans and Che Guevera shirts, is indicative of Kurosawa's handling of the issue, his approach significantly more playful and sly than that of other filmmakers interested in the subject.

Kurosawa has always been a master of sound editing but the visual aspect of his films is equally brilliant and, in my opinion at least, chronically underrated. Kurosawa infuses his film with an aesthetic that is at once ominous and unsettling, an unfamiliar vision of the everyday that infuses his films with a sense of melancholic foreboding.

The acting is excellent, the usual in a Kurosawa film, with the always solid Tadanobu Asano taking a convincing turn as the enigmatic Mamoru opposite a solid Joe Odagiri as Yuji.

Taste of Tea

B+

Directed by Katsuhito Ishii

Japanese director Katsuhito Ishii, the notoriously weird mind behind such confusing and oddball creations as "Shark Skin Man and Peach Hip Girl" and "Funky Forest: The First Contact" tones down the weirdness for long enough to make the very satisfying "Taste of Tea," a magic realist exploration of family dynamics in rural Japan.

The Haruno family live in a small bungalow in rural Tochigi prefecture, north of Tokyo. The family is headed by patriarch Nabuo, a quiet salaryman, and his wife Yoshiko, a housewife trying to start a career as an animator. Their son Hajime is a daydreamer, stricken with an infatuation for the school's beautiful new arrival, Aoi. Hajime's younger sister, Sachiko, believes that she is being followed by a gigantic version of herself. Their grandfather, Akira, also lives with the family and spends his days drawing and serving as a model for Yoshiko's animation. The Haruno's uncle, Ayano, also lives with the family, though were never really given any indication that he's doing anything productive with his life.

The plot of "Taste of Tea" is far from elaborate or focused, Ishii contenting himself to drop viewers off at the Haruno's home, let them mill around for a awhile before picking them up again. Despite this, the film is far from pointless or simply anecdotal. Indeed, Ishii deals with each character's particular ambitions or fears but in the end his film in a way that leaves them feeling fleshed out and three dimensional, leaving vieweres with a full picture of all the members of the Haruno household. Although dysfunctional families get plenty of play in the movies, functional families often don't and when they do, it's usually in the form of a crude, ham fisted "Cheaper by the Dozen" caricature. The family in "Taste of Tea" is happy, warm, and loving but never comes off as unreal or Brady Bunch-esque.
At 153 minutes, Ishii's film is probably a half hour too long and he would have done well to part with some of the film's more drawn out scenes. That said, this isn't a film that was meant to be rigidly paced or edited and its languid pace and willingness to drift wherever it pleases give it an element of undeniable charm.

Inglourious Basterds

B

Directed by Quentin Tarantino

Quentin Tarantino's long awaited feature film "Inglorious Basterds" reaffirms what we all already knew about QT, namely that he is an immesely talented filmmaker who nonetheless tends to get lost in his own excesses.

Lt. Aldo Raine forms a small group of American jews tasked with going behind enemy lines to, in the words of Raine himself, "kill Nazis!" Raine and his superiors (we are led to believe this is an OSS outfit) hope to sow terror within the German ranks, thus weakening the moral of Hitler's troups on the Eastern front. At the same time, in Vichy France, Goebbels prepares to screen his newest piece of cinematic propoganda, focusing on the exploits of a valiant German soldier named Ernst Zoeller. Zoeller convinces Goebbels to screen the film in a small cinemateque owned by his unrequited love interest, the beautiful Shoshannah who plans to make the premier a spectacle to remember.

Although it bears all the hallmarks of a Quentin Tarantino film, "Inglorious Basterds" is a unique creation in the oeuvre of Tarantino, a film that asks its audience to sit down and listen rather than simply kick back and enjoy. This isn't to say that "Basterds" isn't enjoyable, which it is, but Tarantino takes more time developing characters through dialogue than by simply letting the carnage fly. An interesting approach, for sure, but it does seem to drag at times, something that Tarantino's films have never been known to do. Although the acting is fantastic and the dialogue for the most part highly engaging, I couldn't help but feel that many of the film's scenes were in need of serious editing. Some of the more drawn out scenes, such as a taut stand off between an SS officer and a french farmer accused of harboring Jews, benefit from their length, while others are simply too long for their own good and the good of the movie. Furthermore, Tarantino spends relatively little time with the Basterds themselves, all things considered, which is a bit disappointing since Raine's merry band of men are by far the most compelling cast of characters in the film. Tarantino spends more time with exploring the plotline involving Shoshannah and Zoeller which, although at times interesting, was often a bit of a drag.
Despite its many faults, this is a Quentin Tarantino picture which means its wild, inventive, and a great deal of fun. Tarantino's refusal to take himself or his subject matter too seriously, no matter how many accolades or prizes are thrown his way, is his greatest asset, preventing his films from ever become bogged down by pretensions. "Inglorious Basterds" hilarious alternative take on world history is both flippant and oddly cathartic. For anyone who ever wished to go back in time and kick evil in the teeth, Tarantino's film is a satisfying little jaunt.

My Architect: A Son's Journey

B

Directed by Nathaniel Khan

Louis I. Khan's only son Nathaniel, born of an of an affair between Khan and Nathanial Khan's mother Harriet Pattison, attempts to retrace his father's life and reconnect with the famous architect by visiting his buildings and interviewing the people who knew him best. The resulting work is a surprisingly riveting look at the architects rocky professional life and even rockier personal life as well as an interesting survey of Khan's unique impact on American architecture.

Director Nathanial Khan starts "My Architect" with the barest of facts: His father, world famous architect Louis I. Khan, was found dead in a bathroom at Penn Station with his name crossed out on his passport. From there, he attempts to unravel the mystery surrounding Khan, moving backwards and recounting his father's life, his work, and his complex relationship with the three families he kept simultaneously in the Philadelphia area. While interviewing former friends, colleagues, and personal acquaintances of Khan's, the director also takes the time to visit most of his father's seminal works, including the Salk Institute, the Kimble Art Museum, and the massive National Assembly of Bangladesh.

Since Khan finished relatively few works, his son is able to give a fairly complete tour of his father's projects, giving the viewer a rather complete appreciation of Khan's œuvre, from the garishly the ugly, such as the a community center in Trenton, to the admittedly impressive such as the Salk Institute. Although Khan's monolithic structures are not my bag, you have to admire his efforts to make buildings that will stand the test of time.

Nathanial Khan is refreshingly honest when it comes to his opinion on his fathers buildings. After visiting the rRchards medical research laboratories at the University of Pennsylvania, he bluntly states that he "wanted to like it" but just couldn't. When visiting his father's more aesthetically pleasing projects such as the Salk Institute and the National Assembly of Bangladesh, Khan lavishes some worthwhile praise on his father's work, highlighting the building's interesting features or historical relevance.

If the director is surprisingly impartial in his assessment of his father's buildings, he is far less so in his assessment of his character. Watching Louis I. Khan's son and former mistresses fall over themselves making excuses for his bad behavior is frankly a bit annoying. Although I have no trouble believing that Khan was a great mind and an interesting man you have to question the moral fiber of a guy who juggled three families simultaneously and, according to a Philly cab driver interviewed ny Nathaniel Khan, "loved the women." The eagerness of his ex-lovers and of the his son to shrug of his indiscretions and speak of Khan's character in glowing terms goes far in explaining Khan's hypnotic charisma seeing as how many of the individuals who suffered from his indiscretions seem to have not yet woken up to the fact that he might not have been an all around solid family man. Nathanial Khan obviously wants to like the man, and I guess you can't really fault him for that. His search for a posthumus connection with his father also makes for compelling viewing and "My Architect" is for the most part a pleasant and well made documentary.

Autumn Moon

B

Directed by Clara Law

Hong Kong director Clara Law, the foremost female member of the city's cinematic "second wave," tackles familiar ground in "Autumn Moon," weaving an effecting and compassionate tale of immigration and the clash between Asian cultures.

Japanese tourist Tokio arrives in Hong Kong armed with a video camera, hoping to adsorb and record some of the city's magic. He soon meets school girl Pui-Wai who is living with her grandmother in Hong Kong but is soon to join her family in Canada. The two begin a tentative friendship, hampered significantly by a language barrier that they try to overcome by communicating in limited English. Despite their age difference, Tokio and Pui-Wai's relationship begins to deepen, both finding a measure of solace and fulfillment in the company of the other.

I'll admit that at the outset of this film I was skeptical that Law could make a friendship between a 15 year old Hong Kong school girl and a 25 year old Japanese tourist look in any way credible and I must say that I was probably right to be skeptical. As hard as Law tries, there's really no reason to believe that this quirky match would happen in real life and its often difficult to get past the unbelievable nature of the central character's relationship. That said, the interaction between the two characters is still somewhat believable (considering the circumstances) and Law certainly makes the most of a awkward situation, albeit one she imposed on herself.

Law's film is obviously influenced to a large extent by fellow second wave luminaries Wong Kar wai and Stanley Kwan. "Autumn Moon" falls somewhere in between Wong Kar Wai's paean's to urban loneliness and the sexual frankness of Kwan's films. Law's focus throughout her career on telling the stories of Hong Kong's large migrant population has made her work remarkably attuned to the specific challenges of the immigrant experience and she once again captures in remarkable detail the sense of transience and displacement felt by immigrants.

"Autumn Moon" is also an intelligent and poignant look at the clash of cultures present in Asia, a subject often overlooked in Asian cinema where the the complexities of cross cultural exchanges, especially those between Japan and its fellow East Asian countries, are often reduced to crude jabs at former Japanese imperialism. In this respect, the developing relationship between Tokio and Pui-Wai is surprisingly astute, as customs common to both character's cultures are superimposed over elements that are obviously quite foreign to them. It's a nuanced and intelligent handling of the issue that can be credited to Law's obviously deep understanding of the subject.

The Recruiter

A

Directed by Gulshat Omarova

Although the beginning and end of most moviegoers knowledge of Kazakh film is "Borat" which is not, of course, Kazakh in any way shape or form, there exists an exciting yet still quite limited cinema scene in the former Soviet republic which has produced a number of excellent films, Gulshat Omarova's "The Recruiter" being no doubt one of the finest of these.

Mustafa, a young boy nicknamed "schizo" by his classmates due to his unpredictable behavior, lives with his mother and her boyfriend, the latter whom organizes illegal boxing matches between amateur fighters in need of a little cash. After one of the fighters dies in the ring, Mustafa takes it upon himself to deliver the unfortunate victim's winnings to his widow, Zinka. Mustafa quickly becomes infatuated with Zinka and befriends her young son. A tentative (and possibly illegal, come to think of it) romance begins to bloom between Zinka and Mustafa, both of whom find solace in each others company.

Fimmakers in Kazakhstan, a young and still quite impoverished country, are still highly dependent on the state to provide funding for their projects, making true artistic expression sometimes difficult as they try to placate government agencies with films that give a rosy picture of Kazakhstan in order to secure financing for their projects. "The Recruiter's" portrayal of rural life in Kazakhstan as unforgiving, aimless, and at times violent is therefore quite at odds with what many viewers have come to expect from films in a state that tightly controls the artistic outputs of its filmmakers. Much of "The Recruiter's" artistic freedoms can be explained by the fact that it is a project funded jointly by French, German, Russian, and Kazakh government and cultural agencies. The breathing room this type of funding gives a film like "The Recruiter" is a godsend for viewers who are exposed to the unimpeded vision of Omarova in a film that presents an unvarnished and unromanticized view of post-Soviet Kazakhstan.
Omarova's film should not, however, be praised just for the fact that she succeeded in releasing something authentic and independent in a country where artistic output is so tightly controlled by the state but rather because it's a truly excellent work. Indeed, this is a beautiful, complex, and intelligent work that works wonderfully on so many levels, it hard to fault it for anything. Although Omarova pulls no punches in showing the sometimes bleak existence of her characters, her film is still infused with beauty, hope, and an infinite empathy for her characters. The acting is superb, and Olzhas Nusupbayev is especially wonderful as Mustafa, conveying perfectly the naiveté and confusion of his character.

I can't recommend this film highly enough.