Tribeca Film Festival
It could have been played for melodrama or maudlin sentimentality at every turn, but it isn't. Instead, it is a sensitive and often quite funny look at what Conor's re-entry does to his wife Vanetia (the wonderful red-headed Maxine Peake), and his two young children. Meanwhile, there is an interloper (Forte) in their midst, following Conor around with a cam-corder. Vanetia says, "I was worried about letting a hypothesis into the house."
At the Tribeca Film Festival: Directors of 'In God We Trust' on Eleanor Squillari, Madoff-scandal heroine
In the film, Squillari’s involvement with the FBI is so thorough that I assumed her generous efforts were rewarded with some kind of paycheck. But Kubicek and Anderson confirmed that, in fact, she wasn’t paid for her work. “That’s part of why we have major respect for her, because it was not easy and it was not beneficial for her to do this. She did this anyway.”
The people of Oxyana speak for themselves; Dunne is listening, and the community trusts him, so he has gotten under the suffice of things. He is their message in a bottle. But there is work for the audience here, too.(16)
At the Tribeca Film Festival: A bold, risky film from Quebec produces a revelatory performance from Thomas Haden Church
Whitewash was shot in northern Quebec, and Church is clearly really out there, in a real wilderness, with real snow drifts that swallow him up. He struggles with branches, he builds fires, he tries to carry bags of groceries and cans of gasoline through the deep drifts.
Chen leads us through the shoals of these troubled relationships with a light grip, an affection for every character, and an acceptance that romantic possibility can actually make the world look different, magic, funny, unexpected.
"I always want one question: of who we call the Other, and why is that, and make that Other someone so palpable that you might hopefully see yourself in that person or who we thought of as the Other."
What is it about fame? What do these people want? Rupert Pupkin (or "Pumpkin," "Pipkin," or any of the other incorrect names he is called during the course of the film) is alive and well, more vigorous now than he was in 1983.
Alex Karpovsky is everywhere right now. Along with being a series regular on Lena Dunham's new HBO series Girls (he also appeared in her first feature, Tiny Furniture), he continues to be a strong presence in independent cinema, acting, directing, and writing.
Known mainly for his offhandedly dry comedic sensibility, Karpovsky has come up with a surprise. Rubberneck, his fourth feature, co-written with Garth Donovan, is a psychologically twisted intense thriller, reminiscent of some of the great 70s paranoid anti-hero films. It's a portrait of an isolated man and his increasing psychosis, as his social connection disintegrates, bit by bit, leaving him alone and unprotected. Rubberneck glories in the thriller genre, and features standout performances by all of the leads.
Curfew, which premieres at the Tribeca Film Festival, is director/writer Shawn Christensen's third short film.
He attended the Pratt Institute and got a degree in illustration and graphic design. He was also an actor, and a member of a band, Stellastarr, that signed with RCA. And he wrote the screenplay for Abduction (2011), the Taylor Lautner vehicle.
Curfew is a dark and insightful New York movie, perfect for the Tribeca Film Festival, and features a beautiful performance by Christensen as Richie, as well as his two co-stars, Kim Allen (who plays Richie's sister Maggie) and Fatima Ptacek (who plays Sophia, his niece). Only 19 minutes long, and shot in 7 days, it is a perfectly realized and beautifully imagined story of a drug addict uncle trying to connect to his 9-year-old niece. I was happy to get the chance to speak with Christensen about the making of Curfew.(2)
The impetus for writing the script was not only the town of Fairhaven itself, which O'Brien found "cinematic," but an interview he heard with Patriots quarterback Tom Brady, in which Brady said, "There's got to be something more than this," a comment that is a running theme throughout the film.
Standing with his bandmates on an ice-encrusted platform somewhere in Siberia, as workers chip the ice off of the train wheels, Grammy-nominated artist and producer John Forté uses the word "quixotic," casually, in reference to one of the songs he had been working on. Someone asks what the word means, and Forté provides a definition, adding, "The root is from Quixote. You know. Don Quixote."
In 1965, African-American waiter Booker Wright gave an impromptu interview to filmmaker Frank De Felitta, who was visiting Wright's hometown of Greenwood, Mississippi to do a documentary for NBC on racism in the South.
Some short films are one-trick ponies. Some lead up to an inevitable punchline. Some are gimmicks. Some feel like sketches for a feature-length film.
But there are some shorts, the rare ones, that feel complete in and of themselves, that present a three-dimensional and fully realized experience, with the depth and complexity of a short story by Chekhov or Lorrie Moore. While such shorts may leave you wanting more, there is really nothing more to add. Some things are perfect as is.(1)
In 2010, Stinson Sardine Cannery, the last sardine cannery in the United States, located in Gouldsboro, Maine, closed after a century of business, leaving 128 people out of work, and the economy of the area devastated. Most of the workers had been with the cannery for 30 or 40 years. None of them can afford to retire.(1)
Jon (Tom O'Brien) is a thirty-something guy who lives in the fishing town of Fairhaven, Massachusetts.
He was a football star in high school. He now works on a fishing boat, and has dreams of becoming a writer. He's dating Angela (Alexie Gilmore), a sweet woman who meditates, does yoga, holds acting workshops in a gymnasium, and talks about how it would be OK to have an "open relationship," as long as they both are honest.