The Screengrab : movies we missed

Movies We Missed: Les Revenants [They Came Back] (2004, Robin Campillo)

Paul Clark — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 20:00:00 GMT

I know what you're thinking. You looked at the title of this piece, saw the French title and thought, "there goes Paul again, recommending another French movie. Who wants to bet that this one's existential and deliberately paced, and full of observations and death and social class?" And the thing is, you'd more or less be right. But Les Revenants has something most of those movies don't have:

Zombies. Do I have your attention now?

Why I missed it: Actually, most people missed this movie. After playing at numerous festivals during 2004 and 2005 (including Cannes, Venice and Toronto), it never received a proper theatrical release on our shores. Eventually, it was unceremoniously released on DVD, and I wasn't even aware of its existence until my friend Jason, an unapologetic zombie movie nut, recommended it to me. Well Jason, when you're right, you right. And this time, you were right.

Why I should have known: Les Revenants was Robin Campillo's first effort as a director, but his other work was familiar to me, having co-written and edited numerous films by the talented filmmaker Laurent Cantet. Of particular note is his work on Time Out, which wouldn't seem to be similar to Les Revenants but showed Campillo skilled at mining existential unease, a skill that would serve him well in his directorial debut.

Why I ended up kicking myself: While Les Revenants is a movie about zombies, it's like no zombie movie I've ever seen. Even the zombies themselves are different, neither the lumbering flesh-eaters of classic zombie fare nor the running snarling beasties of more modern genre incarnations. In many ways, it's difficult to tell the "returnees" (as the film calls them from the humans who never died. Even the film's opening shot of thousands of returnees walking out of a cemetery looks like it could just as easily be showing mourners departing a funeral. Aside from a body temperature difference of roughly five degrees and some slowness in their mental processes, the returnees walk and talk like any other human. They fit in fairly well in society, with many of them returning to the workforce.

One of the subtexts of the zombie-movie genre is the idea that the zombies were once our loved ones, and Campillo's film makes this idea explicit. Some of the most fascinating scenes in the film show the different ways in which the living deal with the return of their dearly departed. Some of them are overcome with emotion, such as the parents whose child has returned to them, but others are more conflicted, like Rachel, played by Géraldine Palihas. Rachel's husband Mathieu died several years previously in a car accident, and it's fairly clear she's had a hard time getting over his death. After Mathieu returns, Rachel ignores the fact as long as he can until he finds her and works his way back into her life.

However, it becomes clear that the returnees aren't the same people they once were. Those of working age are given jobs, but while Mathieu returns to his former engineering firm, he can't function at his former level and is put to work in a factory. The returnees' difficulties with communication make a number of people uneasy, and by and large they're treated as second-class citizens. In addition, the returnees are a restless bunch, wandering in the daytime and leaving their houses by night to attend mysterious meetings. What could they be planning?

Campillo sort of answers that question in the final third of the film, although the returnees plans and motivations aren't particularly clear (escape? Sabotage? Recruitment?). Much more fascinating is the way the film's relationships play out near the end. The parents of the returned child disagree on how to treat him- while the father dotes on his son, his wife is growing increasingly freaked out by his behavior. And Rachel, who had been reluctant to welcome Mathieu back into her life, becomes increasingly devoted to him, often to the detriment of her own well-being.

Despite the zombie storyline, Les Revenants is not a gorefest. There are no violent deaths in the film, much less the bloody disembowelments we've grown to expect from the genre. Campillo's film is subtler than that, depending more on the subtle existential dread that comes from finding that someone you love isn't quite the way he used to be. With Les Revenants, Campillo has announced himself as a filmmaker to watch.

Movies We Missed: Transformers (2007)

Peter Smith — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 20:00:00 GMT

Wait a second, you say, what the hell do you mean a movie "we" missed? With box office tallies swelling to over $700M worldwide (pre-DVD!) it's pretty obvious that this one didn't exactly fly under the radar. But admittedly being somewhat of a film snob and guessing that many Screengrab readers and writers may fit in the same category, I thought this might just fit the bill. Who knows, without a thirteen-hour flight to sit through, I may never have discovered this effects heavy, pleasant surprise of a mega-blockbuster myself.

Why we missed it:
Director Michael Bay's last attempt, The Island, was a waste of film, not to mention millions of dollars, and would probably make many people's Top 10 "I Want My Time and Money Back" lists.

As a child of the '80s, (and a proud fan of Clash of the Titans) these all-CGI-all-the-time movies can be more nuisance and nonsense than popcorn classics.

Why we should have known:
As a child of the '80s, I should have remembered one simple fact. Transformers = AWESOME!

Why we ended up kicking ourselves:
A well-cast group of actors, led by the likable Shia LaBeouf, who carries the movie with his manic chattering and off-track humor. For men, there's the jailbait vision of Megan Fox and the fresh face of Rachael Taylor. For women there are ebony-and-ivory hunks Tyrese and Josh Duhamel. And for fans of Kangaroo Jack, there's Anthony Anderson.

The big-budget effects work much better in a story about alien robots than they do for those centered around superheroes or snakes. The Transformers themselves actually manage to integrate well with actors and real settings making for some very satisfying action sequences.

The movie rests on a simple but effective formula that seems unearthed from an '80s blueprint itself. Think Back to the Future and/or any of the countless other movies where the social nobody/nice-guy fuck-up turns out to be a lovable hero who saves the world and gets the girl, by using nerd knowledge and inner strength that nobody knew he had in him. It still works because there are more Shia LaBeoufs than Will Smiths in the world.

Why we may have been better off without it:
Believe it or not, indie stalwart John Turturro is the film's weak link as an overzealous cop.

There is probably an age cap on this one. If you were an adult when kids were playing with the toys, you probably didn't get it then, and it's unlikely you'll feel much different now. But to the film's credit, it's able to bring a young generation of fans up to date with the franchise much better than the many other movie attempts at reviving old TV favorites. (Dukes of Hazzard anyone?)

— Bryan Whitefield

Movies We Missed: Interkosmos (2006)

Peter Smith — Mon, 26 Nov 2007 20:00:00 GMT

One of the sad truths about our current distribution system is that many unique films are overlooked by distributors in favor of movies deemed more "marketable." Such was the case with Interkosmos, the wholly original debut feature from Chicago video artist Jim Finn. Finn uses a faux documentary format to tell the story of an apocryphal Eastern bloc space mission to colonize the outer reaches of our solar system- not exactly the most commercial of projects. But Interkosmos is so wonderfully strange that it deserves to find a cult audience on DVD.

Why we missed it: After making the festival rounds last year, Interkosmos only played a handful of theatrical venues, so it's not like we were the only once who bypassed it.

Unless the names Nandini Khaund and Ruediger van den Boom mean anything to you, there aren't any name actors to be found in the cast.

Why we should have known: Interkosmos was buzzed about at every festival it played, even receiving a rave from that connoisseur of the esoteric, Guy Maddin.

The most popular pitch for the film was "Wes Anderson in space," which isn't exactly a dead-on description but should at least clue you in to Finn's comic wavelength.

Why we ended up kicking ourselves: Finn's brand of comedy is almost bone-dry, but it's also blissfully offbeat, and in a movie comprised largely from stock footage and flat-voiced narration, the tangents are what make Interkosmos truly special. Along with descriptions of the crew's mission agenda, there's footage from a German kids' special called Kosmoschweinchen ("The Space Pig"), a description of a program by which the cosmonauts en route are made to watch recorded images of Earth in order to combat cabin fever, and archival radio transmissions that include such morbid bons mots at "If you cut a squirrel in half, all you get is blood and fur."

Not content to tell the film in documentary style, Finn also adhered to the rules of the classical Hollywood musical, with one musical number every eight to twelve minutes. Even with his limited resources, Finn accomplishes this with the help of Jim Becker and Colleen Burke's Teutonic garage-rock score. The musical numbers include a sequence involving two women's field hockey teams, footage of the cosmonauts exercising onboard, and most memorably, cosmonaut Falcon (played by Finn) serenading cosmonaut Seagull (Khaund) by radio with that "capitalist love song," "The Trolley Song."

Amidst the quirkiness, Interkosmos also contains a surprisingly moving romance between Falcon and Seagull, albeit a particularly communist one in which they sacrifice their own feelings for the cause.

Why we might have been better off without it: With a story set behind the Iron Curtain at the height of the Cold War, and a DVD package that prominently features the hammer and sickle emblem, watching Interkosmos could very well get you put on an FBI watch list even today. But don't let that discourage you. . .

— Paul Clark

Movies We Missed: Va Savoir (Who Knows?) (2001)

Peter Smith — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 19:00:00 GMT

Va Savoir is the exact kind of film that I had in mind when I started writing this feature — the kind that, when you finally do find it, you feel like you’ve discovered a beautiful but rarely traveled island. These are the kind of films that inspire you to lead others to the hidden treasure, and tend to hold a more personal place in your viewing history.

Why we missed it: Although he was working consistently, it had been since 1991 with La Belle Noiseuse that people had paid attention to French master Jacques Rivette.

The cast may be familiar to foreign-film connoisseurs, but none of the actors would turn heads in the States.

Why we should have known: Was well-received at Cannes, with Rivette nominated for the Palme D'Or director’s award, and was also the New York Film Festival’s opening night selection in 2001. But other than that, there's no reason to feel guilty for missing this one.

Why we ended up kicking ourselves: What could very easily have looked like a Meg Ryan vehicle (French Kiss, anyone?) in the hands of a lesser director, is a perfect balance of comedy and drama with Rivette in charge.

The protagonists are all either actors, artists or intellectuals that take themselves inherently seriously, which makes it all the funnier when they find themselves repeatedly stuck in ridiculous situations.

It's light-hearted but not without weight; even at its most outrageous, the film always comes back to a measured story about love in real life.

Why we may have been better off without it: A little long at two-and-a-half hours, this should be viewed as a hard edit from a director whose Out 1 notoriously clocked in at thirteen.

Bound to make you wonder why gorgeous women aren’t working at your local library (it’s a movie!), and could possibly induce feelings of slight depression that your own love life isn’t written by an old-soul romantic out of the French New Wave. Again, it’s really just a movie. . .

— Bryan Whitefield

Movies We Missed: My Life Without Me (2003)

Peter Smith — Mon, 29 Oct 2007 18:00:00 GMT

Mark Ruffalo has had an interesting career. He became an indie poster boy and critical darling overnight with the release of You Can Count On Me. He did his bank account a favor as the leading man in regrettable movies like 13 Going On 30 and Just Like Heaven. But he balanced those with ultra-indies like We Don’t Live Here Anymore and XX/XY. He’s also played detectives for big-name directors (Jane Campion, Michael Mann, David Fincher) to results varying from questionable to near perfect. As Ruffalo returns to the screen this week as a troubled father with a haunting secret in Terry George’s Reservation Road, we wanted to look back at one of his most honest and exposed performances, in the rarely seen My Life Without Me, where he plays a man who unknowingly falls in love with a terminally ill, married woman.

Why we missed it:

If it weren’t for the help of Pedro Almodovar, Isabel Coixet’s English language debut may never have been seen very far outside of Spain. Even with Almodovar’s name attached as a "presenter," the terminal-cancer plotline was a hard sell.

The cast of talented but little-known actors didn’t immediately draw attention.

Why we should have known:

Ruffalo's presence should have raised some eyebrows.

The trailer hints at the hopeful and inventive tone of the film.

Why we ended up kicking ourselves:

Sarah Polley and Ruffalo both give knockout performances without a single moment that feels forced or false. Together they convey the rush of discovering love, and the heartbreak of its eventual loss.Scott Speedman and Leonor Watling prove effortless in supporting roles.

The potentially heavy material is treated with skill and imagination. Coixet, working from a short story from author Nanci Kincaid, looks for the real.

Why we may have been better off without it:

There are unnecessary cameos (Debbie Harry) and an annoying co-worker (Amanda Plummer). But those are easily forgiven.

— Bryan Whitefield

Movies We Missed: Flirting With Disaster (1996)

Peter Smith — Mon, 15 Oct 2007 18:00:00 GMT

Americans will still pay to see Ben Stiller run his shtick into the ground, judging from the healthy box-office return for The Heartbreak Kid. But we have to look back over a decade to remember when we actually thought Ben Stiller was funny, and before we got a little sick of him playing another neurotic little guy in an impossible situation.

Why we missed it: Director David O. Russell wasn’t yet famous for films like Three Kings or for trying to set Lily Tomlin on fire verbally with a string of f-bombs.

Stiller himself had only achieved cult status for his short-lived sketch-comedy show and modest acclaim for his directorial debut, Reality Bites, when this film came out.

Why we should have known: A cast that included Patricia Arquette, Tea Leoni, Alan Alda, Josh Brolin and Mary Tyler Moore on a minimal budget should have given some indication that this was probably a good script.

The concept — an adopted and (surprise!) neurotic man’s quest to find his real parents accompanied by his pregnant wife, a sexy-but-incompetent case worker and a documentary-film crew — is a great one.

Why we ended up kicking ourselves: Stiller is clearly the right man for this role. Nobody has played a more believable well-meaning-but-ultimately-doomed Jewish guy since Woody Allen invented the role years earlier. His reactions, timing and ability to pull off physical comedy are all perfect here.

Patricia Arquette and Tea Leoni are both genuinely funny. Their half-hearted attempts to win Stiller’s affection create many funny moments and also give the film a little heart.

Russell’s script stays sharp, creative and original throughout the film.

The film’s final sequence involving a pair of gay, vacationing cops, Stiller’s wife, lover, birth parents, adopted parents, newfound brother and some heavy doses of LSD is unforgettable and absolutely hilarious.

Why we may have been better off without it: This role sparked a dozen just like it for Stiller, including real gems like Duplex, Along Came Polly and Meet the Fockers. Reviews that included the word 'genius' seem to be the only ones that David O. Russell read or believed in.

— Bryan Whitefield