Showing posts with label Parker Posey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parker Posey. Show all posts

13 October 2009

The Decade List: Fay Grim (2006)

Fay Grim – d. Hal Hartley

I have such a love/hate relationship with Hal Hartley. The man has made at least one film that’s rocked my world (Trust), one that I always think I like even though I’m pretty sure I don’t (Amateur), one that I may be the only person who enjoyed (No Such Thing) and several that have driven me mad (Henry Fool, Flirt, The Book of Life). He has a certain advantage of using some of my favorite women in his films, from Parker Posey in Fool and Fay Grim, Isabelle Huppert as an ex-nun who writes pornographic novels in Amateur, Adrienne Shelly in a most of his early works to PJ Harvey as Mary Magdalene in The Book of Life. I’m still a bit floored at how much I liked Fay Grim, a weirdo sequel to Henry Fool which follows Posey’s character ten years later.

Instead of following in its predecessor’s footsteps, a deadpan satire, Hartley turns Fay Grim into an espionage thriller, which I guess could be best described as Hartley doing his own Jason Bourne film. He shoots the film (almost) entirely in Dutch angles, an absurd idea that works only as a result of the overall ludicrousness of the film itself. For those familiar with Hartley, easing into Fay Grim’s breed of humor is a fairly simple transition. For others, I’d imagine plenty of difficulty in letting one’s self laugh at the folly of it all. I was never able to follow the laugh cues of Henry Fool, but in Fay Grim, I got it, at least as much as someone with a general aversion to Hartley can.

To sum up the plot, Fay and her now fourteen-year-old son Ned (Liam Aiken) live off the royalty checks from her brother Simon Grim’s (James Urbaniak) poetry, as he sits in jail for aiding and abiding Henry’s illegal fleeing of the country. The mess of international intrigue and espionage comes when the head of the C.I.A., played by Jeff Goldblum, starts interrogating Fay about Henry’s confessionals, once thought (in Henry Fool) to be dense gibberish, now believed to contain secrets of US involvement in South American coups and other highly confidential information. Goldblum sends Fay to Paris to retrieve selected notebooks of Henry’s confessionals as it’s believed Henry has died and, as his wife, Fay is the only person who can legally obtain these documents. The C.I.A. isn’t the only one who wants these documents, Fay soon learns, as she encounters, among others, a British spy played by Saffron Burrows and Henry’s partner and accomplice Bebe (Elina Löwensohn, a regular of Hartley’s). Danger ensues.

In a tactic used best in some of his earlier films, Hartley places Parker Posey in direct opposition to the film she’s playing in. Posey appears oblivious as to what’s going on throughout the entire film, a sentiment likely mirrored by the audience of the film. Instead, she appears ripped out of the frames of a delusional melodrama directed by John Waters. Her delivery is perfectly deadpan, and she’s brilliantly misplaced within the Dutch-angled frame of Fay Grim. Hartley has said himself that the premise of Fay Grim was an ongoing joke between him and the cast of Henry Fool as the idea itself is so absurd you almost expect Posey to wake up from a dream at any minute during the film. For its first hour, Fay Grim is a wickedly amusing farce dressed up, just as impeccably as Posey is in her couture attire, as an espionage thriller. Many reviewers have noted, accurately, that, unfortunately, as Fay’s journey takes her to the streets of Istanbul, Hartley forgets the joke. Once it becomes clear that Henry isn’t dead, the film loses nearly all of its magic, not the least of which as a result of Posey not being onscreen once Henry’s whereabouts become evident. Hartley has a gift for his brand of comedy and has found no greater muse than Posey since he stopped working with Adrienne Shelley in the mid-90s. Even when Hartley missteps, as he does painfully in the last half hour of Fay Grim, we can always count on the gameness of Posey, a radiant and woefully underappreciated comedic actress at the top of her game.

With: Parker Posey, Jeff Goldblum, James Urbaniak, Liam Aiken, Thomas Jay Ryan, Saffron Burrows, Elina Löwensohn, Chuck Montgomery, Leo Fitzpatrick, Miho Nikaido, Peter Benedict, Tim Seyfi, Nikolai Kinski, Robert Seeliger, Anatole Taubman
Screenplay: Hal Hartley
Cinematography: Sarah Cawley
Music: Hal Hartley
Country of Origin: USA/Germany
US Distributor: Magnolia

Premiere: 11 September 2006 (Toronto Film Festival)
US Premiere: 19 January 2007 (Sundance Film Festival)

04 March 2009

Questionable Amounts of Flesh, Growing Older (Wiser?) and Hysteria

I've been asked by a few people to resume writing analysis of the particular films I've seen, so here's a few. Sorry if they weren't the ones you wanted to hear more of...

Too Much Flesh - dir. Pascal Arnold, Jean-Marc Barr - 2000 - France - N/A - Jean-Marc Barr, Élodie Bouchez, Rosanna Arquette, Ian Brennan, Ian Vogt

The fact that Pascal Arnold and Jean-Marc Barr's Too Much Flesh was released with said title, the temptation to discuss at length the film's fleshiness and sexual content is unavoidable, and perhaps the only thing worth spending time on in the first place. Conceived as the second part of a trilogy dealing with the heart, the body and the soul, Too Much Flesh deals with, yes, the carnal desires of man, specifically one named Lyle (Barr) who's still a virgin at 35. He seems to be driving his wife (Rosanna Arquette) mad with this, and things don't get any better when he decides to lose his V-card to another woman, played by Élodie Bouchez, who not only starred with Barr in J'aimerais pas crever un dimanche but is the only actor to be in all three of Arnold and Barr's trilogy (Lovers and Being Light are the other two). Once the deed is done, we're given a series of lusty, dreamy sexual encounters between the two, one even involving Bouchez wanting Barr to seduce a young farmboy. There's plenty of issue to be taken about the fact Too Much Flesh isn't half the film Dogville is (which Barr co-starred in), but the film's display of sexuality is considerably more provoking than its notion of small-town, small-minded America. For the abundance of flesh on display, it's hard not to notice the way in which the camera or the body is always cropped in order to avoid Barr's penis. There's a suggestion in the film that there might be something "wrong" with it, but when Bouchez's body, which is not given the same treatment, becomes the concealer of choice (placing her hands and legs, among other things, strategically in front of Barr's member), any attempts at a European elitism over prudish American views of sex become futile. Too Much Flesh begins to perpetrate taboos it so snobbishly opposes in regards to full-frontal male nudity (Bouchez's hand also hides the farmboy's dick), which I'm sure most people would attribute to American cinema. The sex itself, while certainly more erotic than most films about blossoming sexuality, also stops short of penetration, and I'm referring to the simulated act. Ultimately, Too Much Flesh seems satisfied with not-really-enough flesh and becomes about as prudish as it thinks us Americans are.

Party Girl - dir. Daisy von Scherler Mayer - 1995 - USA - First Look - with Parker Posey, Guillermo Díaz, Sasha von Scherler, Omar Townsend, Anthony DeSando, Donna Mitchell, Liev Schreiber

God, I'm getting old. More than ten years ago, Party Girl was one of my touchstones of hipness. Yeah, it probably always was a shitty movie, but what I'm realizing now is that, outside of the multi-character Gen-X films she co-starred in (Dazed and Confused, Kicking and Screaming, Sleep with Me), Parker Posey was probably the only actress who constantly rose above her shitty films. I rewatched The House of Yes a few weeks ago and could barely get through it. It's probably the greatest compliment one can give an actress to be so wonderful as to distract the viewer from recognizing the lousiness of the film at hand. While I'll always admire Mary's ice-cold hauteur (which was the exact phrase a critic used to describe her while condemning the film), I don't know that I'll be taking many more trips down memory lane with Party Girl. Talk to me when you get a last name, honey.

L'important c'est d'aimer [The Main Thing Is to Love] - dir. Andrzej Żuławski - 1975 - Mondo Vision - France/Italy/West Germany - with Romy Schneider, Fabio Testi, Jacques Dutronc, Claude Dauphin, Klaus Kinski, Roger Blin, Gabrielle Doulcet

It's rather fitting that I'm watching Andrzej Żuławski's films around the same time Jeremiah Kipp's been interviewing Daniel Bird about Central New Wave Cinema at The House Next Door. I should confess that although I included Żuławski's Possession in the revisited section of my 2009 Notebook, I'm not 100% certain that I saw the full film prior to this year, after renting a crappy VHS of it from an independent video store years ago which, more than likely, was the US edit. In the interview, Kipp states that "[Żuławski's highly emotional and aggressive films] are frequently criticized for their 'hysteria.'" These are similar criticisms that have been given to Ken Russell's films with "mania" as the substitute for "hysteria." However, in looking back at both directors' films, there's something terribly admirable about this "hysteria/mania." When you're hard-pressed to come up with a contemporary filmmaker to match either (Baz Luhrmann be damned!), there's a sad sense that perhaps such cinematic mannerisms have become relics. L'important c'est d'aimer (which is a difficult title to translate into English) was Żuławski's first big success, in France of course as it was his first to be made in the country and starred two cultural icons, Romy Schneider and Jacques Dutronc. Though it lacks the alarming-ness of his later Possession, L'important c'est d'aimer is wonderful still, particularly for Schneider, who considered this to be her best work and whose performance here was one of the dedications at the end of Almodóvar's Todo sobre mi madre. As Nadine Chevalier, an actress specializing in films de cul, Schneider devastates within her first moments onscreen, unable to find it within her to fuck the dying body of her onscreen lover. Żuławski has a flair with actors, eliciting the frightening best of out of both Schneider and Isabelle Adjani in Possession and wonderful turns from Dutronc and Klaus Kinski as well. Was I wrong in absolutely hating Mes nuits sont plus belles que vos jours, particularly Dutronc's performance? I'll have to give it another go. Best line in the film: when asked if he's crazy after planting a kiss on the film's dull protagonist Servais (Fabio Testi), Kinski responds, "no, just rich."

04 February 2009

Pushed, Crashed, Kicked

How many words are in the English language? A lot. Which is why I can't for the life of me understand why filmmakers choose to throw a title on their movie that's already been used. As I'm pretty useless at detecting sarcasm via the Internet, I actually thought Aaron Hillis at GreenCine Daily mistook that upcoming Dakota Fanning sci-fi flick Push with the Push that won the top prize at Sundance a few weeks ago on his Facebook page. The latter has been retitled Push: Based on the Novel by Sapphire, in order to distinguish itself from that other flick, but this is a trend that needs to stop. Because of this duplicity, I have to add "the David Cronenberg one" whenever I feel the need to bring up Crash, though it's a lot easier to just say "the good one." The same can be said for Kicking & Screaming, though I have no real preference between the Noah Baumbach one or the Will Ferrell one, so "the good one" doesn't really work there. On a side note, very little problems have arose in distinguishing between the two Party Girls (Nicholas Ray or Parker Posey) or The Rivers (you've got at least three notable films there: the Jean Renoir, the Tsai Ming-liang and the Sissy Spacek/Mel Gibson one). I guess the only solution for one of my greatest pet peeves is to just think of the same-name titles as one film. For Push, you've got Dakota Fanning as an illerate pregnant teen with telekinetic powers and Mariah Carey as her caseworker. And for Crash, Sandra Bullock is a racist who gets turned on by car crashes. Fine by me.

09 December 2008

Women (in love)

Thanks to Ed at Only the Cinema, I'm posting my list of my 20 favorite actresses, in no particular order and with apologies to many whom I could not include, not the least of which Samantha Morton, who blew me away in Morvern Callar but has been losing favor with me in the past year or so (for no good reason). Others I feel bad ignoring are Sissy Spacek, Julianne Moore, Ashley Judd (whenever she stays away from the Hollywood system), Gong Li, Sheryl Lee (at least in Fire Walk With Me), Liv Ullmann, Julie Christie, Emmanuelle Devos, Bibi Andersson, Nastassja Kinski (hmm), Juliette Binoche, Emmanuelle Béart, Diane Keaton, Ludivine Sagnier and a load of others. And if you know me, you know I'm f'real on my number 20.

Isabelle Huppert - La pianiste

Helen Mirren - The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover

Tilda Swinton - Teknolust (not her finest, but you get four Tildas for the price of one)

Béatrice Dalle - Betty Blue

Parker Posey - Broken English

Isabella Rossellini - Blue Velvet

Faye Dunaway - Chinatown

Maggie Cheung - Clean

Margit Carstensen - The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant

Asia Argento - Boarding Gate

Barbara Stanwyck - Double Indemnity

Penélope Cruz - Volver

Ingrid Thulin - The Silence

Glenda Jackson - Women in Love

Irm Hermann - The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (her silence is remarkable!)

Charlotte Rampling - Sous le sable

Laura Dern - Wild at Heart

Harriet Andersson - Through a Glass Darkly

Lara Flynn Boyle - Happiness

Gina Gershon - Showgirls