Fingers vs. Shelfish

2004-04-20 - 14:55:00
Current music: Denali - "Time Away"

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BLACK ROBE (1991) - d. Bruce Beresford
I had this confused with 'Brotherhood of the Wolf'. For some reason, I thought Mark Dacascos was going to be in it, delivering equal parts religious zealotry and kung fu whoop-ass to the Native (North) American folk. Or maybe I thought Christophe Gans was directing it. Anyways, I was wrong. No kung fu in this one. Not a whole lot of hand-to-hand combat, to be honest. If you want buckets of violence with your Cowboy v. Indian, 'Last of the Mohicans' has your name on it.

A few things I learned from watching this movie:
- Hurons had sex in public. And when they did it, they did it doggy-style.
- Sandrine Holt is Sandrine hottt.
- Taking over foreign countries, installing your leaders, pushing your religious beliefs, and expecting the natives to fall in line never works out well. Unless, of course, you're Hallibu -- sorry -- unless you're the US of A.
- Those Iroquoi are feisty fuckers.

I'd never even heard of this movie until a friend told me that my Canada-lovin' ass would like it sometime last fall. Now that I've seen it, as good as it is, I know why it was under my radar. It's great, but it's also medicinal. The story involves the Christianizing of the Huron people during 17th century in Canada. Canada was New France back then, and the French were still, in many ways, guests of the Huron and Algonquins (the Iroquoi? Not so tolerant..). Anyway, the main character in the movie is a Jesuit priest who's been sent from Quebec on a trip up to the Huron Mission, which is pretty far out of town. He's heading there with a bunch of Huron who've been paid in things like beads and flints by Champlain. Plot and character aren't paramount to the story's effect. What matters most, surprisingly, seems to be 'the truth.' There's little sense of revisionism in this movie, despite the era in which it was made. In place of political correctness, the unexpected happens and you're assailed with arguments from both sides. Euro-Indian relationships are thoroughly explored here, and you have to admire the attention to detail, both emotional and physical.

Other than coming out the other end with a much better sense of how the Hurons and the French got along circa 1634, you realize just how beautiful Canada is. Beresford's movies are always interesting to look at, but here, the cinematography, by Peter James (also an Aussie), is flat-out amazing. In between scenes, they throw down jaw-dropping overhead shots of the Canadian landscape. You kind of wonder if Robby Müller hadn't seen them when he went to shoot the chapter cards for 'Breaking the Waves,' because they have the same sense of Zhivago-esque magic.

'Zhivago-esque'. Ugh. I am icky.


PERSONAL VELOCITY (2001) - d. Rebecca Miller
I was thinking that it's probably a little bit easier to get your book published or your movie financed if you're Arthur Miller's daughter. I'm not hating on Rebecca Miller, I'm just saying...

I stayed away from this movie for a while because, clearly, anything called 'Personal Velocity: Three Portraits' is going to be high on the estrogen, low on the tolerance of men. Turns out, though it's very much a woman's film (video?), I didn't have to worry. It was better - and less anti-male - than I'd expected. I don't know if I'd have been willing to see it at all if Ellen Kuras hadn't shot it, and she knocks it out of the park, but there's more between the ears here than just good photography. I wouldn't put it up there with 'Gas Food Lodging,' which is the only chick flick I would see again because I genuinely respond to it, but it's more than tolerable. When it played at festivals, when it was released, there was a lot of talk about just how great 'Personal Velocity' is and I'm pretty sure it ended up on a lot of critics' year end lists. Those people aren't telling the truth. It's a very solid movie, but let's leave it in the 'strong debut' category.

Parker Posey's sequence is the best of the three, and the fact that it hews closest to Miller's own life is telling. There are some misfires - it didn't need to be so rooted in its literary origins, the music and score hit some false notes, Kyra Sedgewick's ass isn't near as legendary as her story suggests - and some points where you wish it had gone farther, but you walk away impressed with what Rebecca Miller is capable of. Finally, I don't know whether or not to give her credit for swiping the bracketing device from the 'Three Colors' trilogy. She's got to know that the audience for something like this is going to catch it, so I guess we let it slide. This time.


MENACE II SOCIETY (1993) - d. Albert & Allen Hughes
I thought I liked this movie better than 'Boyz N the Hood,' mostly because the main characters here are the ones with the guns. I saw 'Boyz' about a year ago, and watching this again, it turns out neither movie has aged well. 'Menace' is a good debut with some great moments, and I think Los Bros. Hughes have a better idea of what to do with a camera than Sr. Singleton, but the writing and acting are weaker here.

Oh, well. We'll always have the "I'll suck your dick for some crack"/"Who wants a cheeseburger?" exchange.