Tribeca Interview: Matt Creed & Amy Grantham (‘Lily’)

So I’ve been pretty outspoken about the fact that, of the approximately six bazillion films premiering at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival, my personal favorite is Matt Creed and Amy Grantham’s “Lily.” Because I’m super lazy and exhausted on account of not sleeping through nearly as many films as I have in years past, I’ll just re-post what I wrote about “Lily” yesterday when Film.com ran an exclusive clip from the movie:

“Lily” is a beautifully rendered portrait of a young woman preparing to take the next step as she finishes treatment for breast cancer, a film that’s tiny but true, as precise as it is universally relatable. Indebted to the free-flowing spirit of John Cassavetes and inspired by lead actress Amy Grantham’s fight with cancer, “Lily” is the kind of movie that proves – among other things – that there’s hope for indie film beyond the likes of Sundance and SXSW, and that Tribeca is full of buried treasure if you know where to look.

Couldn’t have said it better myself. Yesterday, Matt and Amy were kind enough to sit down with me and chat about “Lily,” all of the choices that made the film possible, how such a personal story can be so universally relatable, and how a blog can save a life.

David Ehrlich: So this is a pretty unusual situation for me because I know nothing about you guys other than the movie, which is not typically how I go into these things, so if I ask you some super asinine questions… well, sorry about that.

Matt Creed: No you’re good.

Amy Grantham: (laughs) it’s okay.

David: So this is your first feature?

Matt: Yeah.

David: Your first festival…

Matt: First festival… first film-related experience, really. I’m learning, trying to figure it out.

David: Do you come from a film background?

Matt: No, more like art history and fine arts…studio art stuff. But, I watched films while I was growing up like crazy.

David: “You’ve seen movies?”

Matt: (laughs) Maybe just a couple. You know, I just started making a bunch of short films about five years ago and then about three years ago I was like OK, I really want to make a feature. So I started writing a couple, just kind of dedicating all my time towards writing and finding the right project, and then I met Amy and I found her story.

David: So you guys met as a result of this, you didn’t know each other before?

Amy: No we didn’t.

David: And you’d been acting before?

Amy: In my apartment, if that counts.

David: It definitely counts.

Amy: In my wildest dreams, I thought, ‘yeah that’s definitely something I’d like to do someday, but I have no idea about doing it. How about we just write a script?’ (Laughing)

David: How did that conversation even start since you didn’t look at her as an actress, first? How do you make that leap from “I don’t even know this person” to “you should be an actress in this movie?”

Matt: I don’t know, I kind of just had this idea for a story that I wanted to expand and, I had been reading Amy’s blog and she’s a great writer. I asked her if she’d be interested in taking this little idea I had and writing a short story because she had been telling me that she wrote them, so she was very interested and then went into chemo, and then, obviously, disappeared into chemo world.

Amy: That put a damper on the writing (laughing).

Matt: And then I hadn’t seen her and we kind of crossed paths accidentally and decided to meet up one afternoon in a coffee shop towards the end of her treatment. So I said to her ‘Oh, you must be excited that your treatment is coming to an end’ and she said ‘no, I’m not’ and I was just struck by that. She said ‘it’s the only thing I had ever done from beginning to end. It’s my purpose, but it’s weird, how can it be?’

She was only 31 at the time. And I just, related to that and was a little weirded out at first because I’ve never had cancer but what I realized was that I related to her vulnerability. I was just getting out of a relationship and was feeling the same way, very unsettled, so I thought it would be interesting to explore that through Amy’s story and I found that to be so much more interesting and unique. I mean, if you’ve ever felt unsettled or vulnerable, you can relate to Lily.

David: It felt to me like a coming of age story in a way, with higher stakes. So, Amy, it seems like your experience with cancer was something that you wanted to communicate and express, as opposed to something you wanted to internalize.

Amy: Yeah, as Matt was saying, I already had a blog to chronicle the treatment as it happened.

David: So you started the blog when you were diagnosed?

Amy: I started it the day I was diagnosed. I just thought this could be really important because I was so young and there was just nothing out there for me that was the least bit comforting.

I thought it was important when we talked about doing the script to show what for me was the hardest part emotionally, which surprisingly was when it all came to an end because you know, everyone was happy for me. My friends were ecstatic, the doctors were ecstatic, other patients were ecstatic…but I went from having a very tight-knit family of doctors and nurses, assistants, other patients, and then literally overnight waking up and everyone was gone.

David: There’s a certain inertia of being in that life and then…

Amy: It’s hard because you’re supposed to wake up the next day and it was the hardest day of my life. You know, get out of bed and there’s supposed to be little Disney birds flying around your head and it wasn’t like that at all. It took me about three weeks to get over being really bummed out.

David: Yeah, I was struck by the obvious intimacy between Lily and her various doctors.

Amy: Luckily I get to see some of them because I still have to go pretty frequently for check-ups, and its ridiculous because I kind of get a little excited when it’s time to see my oncologist and I’m like ‘Hey, how’ve you been?’. But it really is like seeing an old friend because these are people that were with me constantly for almost two years of my life and its intense – that’s a long relationship.

David: To what extent is the film autobiographic in that sense… how much of the details explicitly reflect your story?

Amy: Yeah, 80-85%. A lot of it.

Matt: I mean, it’s like some things are true but then you embellish them a bit to make it more cinematic and you kind of give it that narrative pleasure.

Amy: The cancer stuff is all real, like having that gene and you know, doing the egg retrievals.

David: Well, the gene thing really struck me because so much of the film is about the rift between the things we choose and the things that choose us, especially as it pertains to Lily’s parents. There’s the hereditary nature of the disease, but also Lily’s relationship with her parents, which is strained on both sides, and inspires her to she make a very clear decision to become her own person…

Matt: The film is definitely about choices, and making choices from kind of this little window we all get every so often. Not to sound sentimental in a way, but every so often you get this opportunity where you have this clarity and I find that comes from being very vulnerable, and it’s one of the purest state of minds we can be in. A lot of people don’t want to stay there very long because it f**king sucks and you see yourself and you see everything and it’s really scary so we tend to stay where we are and not try to move forward and just not deal with things.

For Lily, she really sees it and is like ‘alright, I need to do something here. I don’t need to do something insane but I need to take a step in the right direction, or in the opposite direction of what I’m going into’.

Amy: Yeah. The day you’re diagnosed and it’s decided you’re going to need treatment because surgery isn’t enough, you have ‘x’ amount of time mapped out for you from there.  In my case, they said you’ll do two surgeries, chemo and then do radiation, so you know from this month to this month my life is planned and it’s kind of great, but then afterwards you have to make decisions again.

In regards to making choices, we had someone ask a question last night that at the time, I kind of tried to brush it off, but she was saying how she wished that Lily had just said something to her dad, or emailed him or anything and, I have to be careful not to get defensive because it is a character, but I found myself thinking about it this morning when I was walking around and thought it was a really good question because it shows how different our choices are for each of us as individuals because she might’ve been projecting her life onto me with that question.

Maybe she’s got a great relationship with her dad, and it would be devastating to her if he didn’t know, and maybe it’s hard for her to understand that someone might not have a relationship at all with her father and then vice versa, like it’s hard for me to understand what it’s like to have a good one.

David: That might be the healthiest response to a Q&A question in the history of film festivals.

Amy: (laughs) But truly, I think with most questions in an environment like that, that’s a reaction to art or any form of music, cinema or painting. I think a lot of questions that come up for us are obviously from us, you know, we’re projecting in some way. So that was a good question, emotionally difficult, but good.

David: Well, the art is important to that moment as well because to me, I didn’t read it as a decision for her not to reach out to her father at all, but just her expressing herself in a particular way and her father not being especially engaged.

Amy:  And that was just one moment. Who knows what could happen later.

Matt: To me, my response to that question is that she just opened a dialogue. There is just so much she hasn’t seen in three years or spoken to him in three years and, she immediately sees him and he’s just a fucking asshole.  I think Lily really wants to tell him but maybe just not at that moment. Maybe she goes back later on, but that’s just another film, right? And you can’t just cover everything.

Amy: Well, we were at asked if we’re doing a sequel.

David: Like a trilogy.

Amy: (laughs) “Lily: Part Two.”

Matt: We had talked through the writing process but to me, that was a very honest response and the moment was very human. I think a lot of people want to go and tell someone something and they have the opportunity, and they just can’t do it because it doesn’t feel right or that person has scarred them enough to where… you know, obviously there were some medical things there with the gene, but I think it was one moment.

Amy: For sure.

THE CONVERSATION CONTINUES ON PAGE 2.

Categories: Interviews

Tags: Amy Grantham, Director's cut, Interview, Lily, Matt Creed, Tribeca film festival

Tribeca Review: ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’

Is it paranoia to believe that religious extremists, including Islamic extremists, walk among us every day? Or, in the wake of events like the Boston Marathon bombing – accompanied by the still-unraveling backstories of its perpetrators – is it just good common sense to accept that radical acts of evil might happen anytime, anywhere?

We can’t expect Mira Nair’s “The Reluctant Fundamentalist,” adapted from Mohsin Hamid’s novel, to answer those unanswerable questions. But the timing of the movie’s appearance on the scene counts for something: This is the story of a young Pakistani man, Changez – played by the almost alarmingly charismatic Riz Ahmed – who claims to love the United States and (almost) everything it stands for. Yet an American journalist and spy, Bobby (Liev Schreiber), suspects that Changez may have masterminded the kidnaping of an American professor from a university in Lahore. Changez tells Bobby his story, revealing it in a series of flashbacks. Should Bobby trust the tale and the teller, or neither?

Even if you haven’t read Hamid’s novel, it’s pretty clear from the start where “The Reluctant Fundamentalist” is going to lead. But in getting there, Nair opens up some compelling questions, even if she isn’t always so surefooted in dramatizing them. This is a thriller, and Nair works hard to make it thrilling, with uneven results. There are too many moments when it’s nearly impossible to buy either the characters’ actions or their feelings.

But Nair does have a powerful ally in her star, Ahmed, who has previously appeared in “Trishna,” Michael Winterbottom’s jagged, emphatic reimagining of “Tess of the D’Urbervilles,” as well as the wobbly jihadist comedy “Four Lions.” Ahmed plays two characters here, rolled into one human being: There’s the Changez who comes to America as a young man, attending Princeton and assimilating so well that he’s hired by a scrappy little Wall Street firm (his boss is a wily Cheshire Cat played by Kiefer Sutherland) and lands an artsy-rich American girlfriend (played by a not-so-kittenish Kate Hudson). And then there’s the Changez who, disoriented and disillusioned by the way Americans treat him after 9/11, returns to Pakistan to teach at a university there, intentionally or otherwise instilling revolutionary ideas in his students.

The Americanized Changez speaks in loose-limbed U.S. English; back at home, in Pakistan, his diction is clipped and formal, the stiff language of pamphlets and slogans. Ahmed plays the character so we feel immediately comfortable with his U.S. incarnation and instantly wary of the more spiritually rigid Pakistani who has returned to his homeland. Still, both versions of the character are seductive, and that’s what gives the movie its crackle. Like Bobby, we want to trust Changez, but we’re not sure we dare to.

Ahmed is so good that it’s a shame Nair can’t always adequately control the story around him. Changez’s Wall Street job involves evaluating companies’ worth and then finding ways to increase it, which generally involves cutting employees. In one scene, he coldly faces a group of average Middle Americans, trying to make them see how logical it is that their jobs should be eliminated. Later, when he’s confronted in the parking lot by one of these disgruntled workers, the moment is framed as jingoistic — a racist attack, a good reason for Ahmed to feel uncomfortable in his adopted home. Nair and her screenwriters (Hamid, Ami Boghani and William Wheeler collaborated on the script) don’t allow for the fact that, old-fashioned racism aside, this guy has plenty of cause to be angry with Changez. The sequence is ham-fisted, when what it demands is the utmost delicacy. “How dare this guy come to our country to fire me!” is a very different emotion from “He’s dark-skinned, he’s from over there, so he probably hates America and Americans.” Nair blurs the line carelessly, to the point that we don’t feel as much sympathy for Changez as perhaps we should.

Although “The Reluctant Fundamentalist” raises some complicated questions, in the end, it doesn’t challenge that much – the picture adequately and efficiently grooms to see Changez’s story from many angles, so we can emerge from it feeling reasonable and self-congratulatory. Yet Ahmed’s performance has enough mystery embedded that sometimes he succeeds in making us wonder if he is the willing servant of a vengeful God. It’s the single discomfiting element of a movie that’s otherwise just too reassuring.

SCORE: 6.0 / 10

Categories: Reviews

Tags: Mira nair, Review, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, Tribeca film festival

Tribeca: Two Foreign Films Offer New Perspectives on the LGBT Experience

Coming out is old news. American and British gay cinema has, on the whole, largely moved past the coming out narrative. Over the last couple decades gay characters have not only become more prominent in the mainstream, but gay films have had quite the thematic evolution. Tragedies like “Brokeback Mountain” and “Boys Don’t Cry” and coming-out stories like “Get Real” and “Beautiful Thing” are still loved, but if they were to be made now the reaction might be less enthusiastic.

We no longer want to see idealized gay characters in stories that revolve around their being gay. Yet sometimes we forget that in many parts of the world, well beyond the gay-friendly movie metropolises of London, Los Angeles and New York, things are different.

Tomas Wasilewski’s crepuscular and deeply affecting “Floating Skyscrapers” comes to Tribeca from Poland, a deeply Catholic country where homophobia remains prevalent. Progress is being made, of course, and in 2011 the first gay MP was elected to parliament. Yet their cinema is only beginning to deal with homosexuality in a meaningful way, and Wasilewski’s new film is therefore a major contribution.

Of course, to view “Floating Skyscrapers” solely as a work of social politics would be a disservice. It’s artfully told and brutally honest, an almost ethereal tale of star-crossed lovers whose union is undercut by their recklessness and made impossible by a homophobic environment. Kuba (Mateusz Banasiuk) is a talented swimmer, training for national competition. He lives with his mother and his girlfriend, Sylwie (Marta Nieradkiewicz). She takes him along to an art gallery opening with some friends of hers, including Michal (Bartosz Gelner). The two young men hit it off, and the sexual tension begins to boil up under Kuba’s typically placid demeanor.

Sylwie begins to suspect something is wrong. Kuba spends more time with Michal. Kuba begins to lose interest in swimming, and Michal decides to come out to his family. There’s nothing groundbreaking here, only simple plot points that win us over with authenticity rather than ingenuity. All of the actors are performing to the best of their ability, fully entering into characters that require not only emotional veracity but also real physical presence. “Floating Skyscrapers” is about the human body, the way that Kuba stretches himself into a tryst with Michal or scrunches down in his continued dalliances with Sylwie.

Yet before the film becomes so corporeal, Wasilewski links sexuality and emptiness. The very opening shot features the stalls of the men’s locker room at Kuba’s swimming pool, accompanied by the sound of moaning. There is nothing but sex and anonymous space. Wasilewski uses this void throughout the film, eventually to express the isolated world that Michal and Kuba inhabit. The men are often framed by enormous urban monstrosities, highway and apartment complexes that throw their loneliness into relief against an unfeeling city.

The most striking metaphor for their passion is found in a couple of sequences in a parking garage, stealing moments of intimacy in Michal’s car. Wasilewski places the camera on the dash and drives through the empty concrete structure, accompanied by a throbbing pop song. This is their bliss, in the most hidden environment possible.

Its interruption is inevitable, though perhaps not quite in the way one might expect. Meanwhile, Wasilewski makes sure not to leave Sylwie in the lurch. Michal and Kuba may brush her off and treat her as irrelevant, but she is not portrayed as such. This empathy for the women in the situation, equally victimized by a society that forces men to remain in the closet, is the difference between a small-minded coming out narrative and a real work of art. Thankfully, it is an attribute shared by Tribeca’s other international gay narrative feature, “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?”

Other than that, these two films have absolutely nothing in common. Arvin Chen’s follow-up feature to 2010’s “Au Revoir Taipei” is a broad romantic comedy featuring three couples, only one of which is a same-sex pair. The central character is Weichung (Richie Ren), a 30-something optometrist with a wife and young son. He used to be gay, but once he reached a certain age the pressure to settle down was too much and he proposed to Feng (Mavis Fan), a childhood friend. Now his feelings have been re-awakened by a Cantonese flight attendant in need of a good pair of glasses.

Meanwhile, his sister Mandy is engaged to San-San, a somewhat useless romantic. They’re in love but she’s nervous about married life, so she panics and moves back to her old apartment to eat ice cream and watch soap operas. It’s pretty standard romcom fare, as is the final arrangement – the obvious pairing of Feng and her doting young boss. We know from the very beginning how things will turn out.

The subversive element here is its very blandness. The happy ending depends upon the break-up of a marriage, and a marriage that has already produced a child at that. While Chen reinforces the institution with Mandy and San-San, he chooses to undermine it as well by wiling the audience into rooting for Weichung and Feng’s divorce. The trouble this causes Feng does not evaporate under the weight of comedy. In fact, her pain at her husband’s infidelity becomes the stylistic centerpiece of the film in a campy karaoke sequence to the title song by The Shirelles. But that only furthers our desire to see her divorced, and Chen seems to suggest that it will be an outright joyful conclusion, rather than a bittersweet resolution of terrible mistakes.

This is hard to grasp from an American context, the ease with which the Taiwanese context accepts false marriages and the cheer with which it breaks them up. In the same way, the gloomy style of “Floating Skyscrapers” adds another dimension to a story we’ve already seen told by Anglophone films. Now more than ever, we should be looking to international LGBT cinema for new ways to look at genres we think we already know.

Categories: No Categories

Tags: 2013 Tribeca Film Festival, LGBT, TFF2013, Tribeca film festival, WIll You Still Love Me Tomorrow? Floating Skyscrapers

Tribeca Review: ‘Taboor’

There are films that are challenging and there are films that are off-putting. “Taboor,” an exercise in endurance from Iranian filmmaker Vahid Vakilifar is, unfortunately, in the latter camp. Its prime effort – to remain as obtuse as possible – ultimately tears down what little narrative structure exists. While there is, indeed, a discernible tone, the squared-off shots and spooky sound effects are just not enough to save the picture. I’ll grant Vakilifar that his intentions are artistic, it’s just that there isn’t enough meat on the bone to make suffering through the artifice a worthwhile endeavor.

Meat – sizzling meat, in fact – factors into “Taboor.” At the thirty-minute mark a steak is thrown on a grill and, as we watch it cook in real time, the first of two sequences involving spoken words commences. I hesitate to say dialogue, because it is just an off-screen character offering a smidge of context.

By this point we’ve seen an older man get out of bed in a room with aluminum foil wallpaper. He gets into an aluminum foil suit of armor, then puts his clothes on over this, then gets on a motor scooter to enter a dark city.

He walks through empty, industrial buildings, spraying for bugs. At one point he finds a collapsed person and helps get him to an ambulance. This is when the steak-cooker explains that “exposure” is destroying our nightrider, and soon his skin will begin to blister apart.

He continues his task until dawn, at which point he makes a decision that seems something of a rebuke to Beckett’s quote “You must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.”

Many of the shots are elegantly framed. (And thank God for that, since they go on forever.) There’s a Lynchian-on-paper moment where a dwarf fires a pellet gun down a long hallway at our hero as he wears a bucket on his head. There’s also a lengthy POV sequence of one of those thrill rides where the seat moves and you watch a video screen. (The sole chuckle of the film goes to the ol’ West gold miner within the ride who may or may not be Randy Quaid.)

There are also some “Hearts of Space”-esque experiments in sound design. If you listen very, very closely during a scene in an elevator you can hear Vangelis’ “Love Theme From Blade Runner.” (The producer in me wonders if they have the rights. It’s so, so soft in the background, but I swear on everything I own that it is in there.)

Listen: I love movies that get you in “the Zone.” Say, for example, Andrei Tarkovsky’s “Stalker” (which actually takes place in “the Zone!”) in which a slow, dreamlike haze permeates each scene. Furthermore I respect a movie for sticking to its guns and delivering a very precise vision. “Taboor” is, I’m sure, exactly the movie Vakilifar wanted to make. So, I’m not gonna be that philistine who wants to call bullshit, but I will be discerning in my taste and say that this specific example of narrative-light, mood-heavy filmmaking is just not for me.

I came away from “Taboor” feeling blank. Blank and a little sleepy. I spoke with a person who liked it on the grounds that it was an interesting look at a post-apocalyptic world. There’s nothing in the text to definitively state that it is a post-apocalyptic world. Who is to say there isn’t a nutty nighttime exterminator out there wearing aluminum foil? My ultimate position is this: there are plenty of rewarding but “difficult” films in the world worth challenging yourself to watch. This isn’t one of them.

SCORE: 3.5 / 10

Categories: Reviews

Tags: 2013 Tribeca Film Festival, Iran, Taboor, Vahid Vakilifar

Tribeca: Documentaries on Michael Haneke, Gore Vidal and Pauline Kael’s Baby Daddy

It’s a bit of a rule that documentaries about artists are almost never as interesting as their subjects. That may seem a bit harsh, and it’s not as if these films are worthless. Yet too many of the docs that fall into this category simply tell a bland biographical narrative, occasionally illustrating their facile portraitures with images of paintings or clips from films. The best docs about artists manage to evoke the right spirit, blending a person’s life together with their greatest achievements.

But how do you do it? As “Room 237” demonstrated, one could make a feature length film about a just single piece of an artist’s output, never mind the whole thing. When you factor in a life story, it becomes an even bigger problem. Documentarians are forced to choose, to build around a particular angle. This year’s Tribeca Film Festival has a whole slew of these films. Perhaps the most daring of them is Yves Montmayeur’s “Michael H. Profession: Director.”

Its boldness lies in its simplicity. Montmayeur made a film about Michael Haneke’s oeuvre and nothing else. He begins with the filming of “Amour” and works backwards, blending clips, production footage, and interviews both new and old with the director and his actors. In spite of being notoriously unwilling to interpret his films, the Austrian auteur is terribly talkative (and surprisingly spry). His stars are enlightening as well, an assemblage that includes Isabelle Huppert, Juliette Binoche, and of course Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva.

Much of the discussion seems to revolve around how Haneke doesn’t like to discuss his movies, including some entertaining footage of the director refusing to answer what he deems to be bad questions. He will also say things like “All of my films can be seen as a reaction to contemporary cinema,” which is interesting but not exactly groundbreaking. The excerpts of the films themselves, meanwhile, make “Michael H.” play a bit like a supercut of Haneke’s most violent and disturbing moments. Yet Montmayeur doesn’t emphasize the horror of his films in his selection interview footage.

“Michael H. Profession: Director” is a must-see for the die-hard fan of Haneke’s work, but does not offer much to the viewer that hasn’t seen at least most of his filmography. Thankfully for Montmayeur, that still gives him an audience. But what if he were directing a doc about a much lesser-known artist? “Big Joy: The Adventures of James Broughton” takes that problem and turns it into quite the opportunity.

James Broughton was a poet and filmmaker who got his start during the San Francisco Renaissance of the late 1940s. Not too many people know about him and his work, though “Big Joy” makes it pretty clear how unfortunate that is. His films are delightful and his poetry is passionate, a body of work that you will instantly draw you in. Clips of his many shorts feature prominently in “Big Joy,” but have none of the homogeny and brutality of “Michael H.” The title is entirely applicable, as his romantic and sexually adventurous work shines with real jubilation.

Yet the central pull of the film comes from the directors’ (three of them, Stephen Silha, Eric Slade and Dawn Logsdon) emphasis on Broughton’s relationships. He had a child with Pauline Kael. He went to Europe with his next lover, Kermit Sheets, and won an award at Cannes. He later returned to San Francisco and married a woman, at the urging of Stan Brakhage. His life was full of the ups and downs of a man wrestling with his sexuality, exacerbated by the swirling cultural community around him. “Big Joy” does not hide his gloomier moments, the dark thoughts that often accompany a closeted life, nor does it shield him from the ramifications of his failures and infidelities. Because no documentary can capture an entire lifetime, “Big Joy” settles for Broughton’s life-long relationship with love. It works beautifully.

Of course, this approach doesn’t work for everyone. Can you imagine a documentary about the life and loves of Gore Vidal? As we learn in Nicholas Wrathall’s “Gore Vidal: The United States of Amnesia” that might be fascinating, but would probably be impossible to make. Vidal was shy about discussing his personal life, and insists that his many-year relationship with Howard Austen was non-sexual. So there’s that.

However, Wrathall fastens on to the driving forces of the great novelist and gadfly’s character: his anger and his wit. This is a documentary about Vidal’s life, but it’s principally about his politics. The novels are mentioned, of course, and their well-designed covers are paraded before the camera. Yet the film spends much more time on the early years with his grandfather, Senator Thomas Gore of Oklahoma, and his various political campaigns and agitations. His public debates with William F. Buckley are also front and center, perhaps the best showcase of Vidal’s fiery opinions and rapid-fire wit.

At times, other elements of the man appear that might merit more attention in the hands of another filmmaker. His precarious friendship with Christopher Hitchens is one of these, when Vidal shifted from aristocratically referring to the Brit as his heir to rejecting him completely in the wake of his support for the Iraq War. Yet Wrathall’s film is not about Hitchens, nor is it really about Vidal’s social life or sense of humor. True to the man’s spirit, “Gore Vidal: The United States of Amnesia” is about the role of the political writer. If you laugh the whole way through, that’s only because this greatest of public intellectuals was so damn funny.

Categories: No Categories

Tags: Documentaries, Gore Vidal, James Broughton, Michael haneke, Tribeca film festival

Tribeca Review: ‘The Rocket’

Ahlo is bad luck.

Born in tribal hut in a region of Laos seemingly untouched by modernity, he is half of a set of twins. When his sibling is stillborn, his grandmother Mali insists he be killed as well. Twins, so tradition holds, either bring a blessing or a curse, and since the other infant is dead it stands to reason that little Ahlo must be bad news. The mother stands up for herself and nurtures the boy for ten years or so, until trouble indeed finds its way to their village. A dam is being built (by an Australian company) and their area will be flooded. There are promises of cash and dream houses with running water and uninterrupted electricity. Mali is convinced, of course, it is Ahlo’s fault and things only get worse when a freak accident that takes a page from Herzog’s “Fitzcarraldo” kills Ahlo’s mother.

The group (including Ahlo’s emotionally distant, but not wholly uncaring father) finds its way to their new home, which resembles more of an internment camp than suburban paradise. “The toilets are coming,” a woman assures them, as the one white guy in the movie stands behind her awkwardly wearing a baseball hat adorned with Laotian writing.

Ahlo soon catches the eye of a strange man called Uncle Purple, a drunk obsessed with James Brown. (When he first came on the screen my first thought was, in fact, woah, that guy looks like an Asian James Brown!) In Uncle Purple’s care is the adorable moppet Kia, with whom Ahlo forms an innocent relationship.

Indeed, Ahlo and Kia’s ability to find time to play amidst the wretched poverty (so many flies and mosquitoes) is, in many ways, the main triumph of the film.

The two families merge and leave the camp once Ahlo accidentally sets a sacred shrine on fire. They escape in the back of a truck run by amputees who salvage undetonated explosives. (An elephant carrying a bomb in its trunk is one of the stranger images I’ve seen on film this year.) The group begin a long quest looking for a home, first checking out Uncle Purple’s old village and then stumbling upon a community that seems to have its act together, but is unwelcoming of broke newcomers.

As it happens, this village is about to hold its annual “Rocket Festival,” where the person who buildings the best rocket gets a big wad of cash. While this may seem like a preposterous happy ending device on the order of “Silver Linings Playbook,” it at least has the benefit of being strange and specific, as opposed to a dance contest.

The rockets are meant to “poke the Gods in the arse” and make them piss rain, and the third act has young Ahlo running around looking for natural elements like Captain Kirk when he fought the Gorn. The big finish, which may violate more safety codes than any other community gathering anywhere in the world, is a tad corny, but given the extraordinary tone of the film it basically works with minimal schmaltz. In short, if you aren’t moved by the “The Rocket,” your heart is, indeed, as defective as a projectile that doesn’t launch.

“The Rocket” isn’t quite the 90s Miramax experience the synopsis may suggest. It makes tremendous use of the natural landscape and there are more than a few scenes where director Kim Mordaunt is willing to take a step back from plot mechanics and let the story unspool visually. There will be some who will raise an eyebrow at Uncle Purple’s soul music moments, but, much like the movie’s emotional “big finish,” Mordaunt doesn’t lean on the cultural disconnect too much. In a less confident director’s hands the flourish might be so in-your-face as to get annoying.

It’s hard to tell someone “you really need to go out and see this exploration of third world poverty” but “The Rocket,” while certainly accomplished in making you feel guilty, is just a well told yarn. The kid performances are impressive and the subtext of a region still shaking off the effects of a long-ended war gives seed to some much needed discussion.

SCORE: 8.5 / 10

Categories: Reviews

Tags: 2013 Tribeca Film Festival, Laos, The Rocket, Tribeca film festival

Tribeca Review: ‘At Any Price’

“Expand or die!” the seed company rep proclaims, and Henry Whipple (Dennis Quaid) is listening. He owns nearly four thousand acres of Iowa farmland, passed down to three generations yet greeted with disinterest from his two boys. One’s off exploring South America while the other, Dean (Zac Efron), has his sights set on racing stock cars. Worse yet, Henry is losing his local standing in seed sales to Jim Johnson (Clancy Brown) and his own highly motivated son, and he continues to cheat on devoted wife Irene (Kim Dickens) with younger fling Meredith (Heather Graham).

It’s not the only regard in which Henry is cheating; for all of his best intentions, this all-American farmer is falling behind in the rat race and is desperate to keep his land, and legacy, in good standing. It’s through this prism of classical melodrama that Ramin Bahrani sees “At Any Price,” in which characters reap what they sow in myriad ways, but what is pitched as something of an operatic morality play comes off as so overwrought initially that the film’s late ironies are but a modest consolation that Bahrani does indeed have more in mind than literal and figurative corn.

At the start, “Price” tends to be the kind of film where men stare off into the night and defiantly declare their intentions to save this farm, where women warn girls that they might grow up to make the exact same mistakes. Subtlety is hardly at home here, with Quaid’s especially earnest performance a well-suited mask for Henry’s desperation that nonetheless amplifies the phoniness of the entire enterprise. Efron does a better job of conveying his long-stewing resentments with nary a word spoken, but every bit of dialogue that does come out of his mouth is similarly keyed into obvious angst.

Bahrani and co-writer Hallie Elizabeth Newton have clearly done their research with regards to modern-day crop concerns, but the farming jargon is served up so matter-of-factly that it mutes the very particular threat of what might prove to be Henry’s undoing, even with Dean’s girlfriend, Cadence (Maika Monroe), tagging along to act as an audience surrogate in order to learn the hard truths about genetically-patented seed sales and old-fashioned neighborly charm. Gus Van Sant’s “Promised Land” may not have been much more subtle in its recent portrait of the economically upset state of rural America, but it benefited at least from a directorial sensibility that fell in line with the devious swagger of its own salesman protagonist and gently romanticized the modern farmer’s way of life in a manner that neither Bahrani nor Quaid care to match.

Of course, with so many prodigal sons and sinful fathers running about, the female characters are often given short shrift, despite the best efforts of Monroe, Graham and Dickens (the latter of whom is eventually asked to retread Laura Linney’s climactic speech of support from “Mystic River” at the same point in this film). For the longest while, “Price” is best at accentuating the noble isolation of its characters regardless of gender, particularly during a pre-race rendition of the National Anthem where all stand alone, together, in the stands, singing their nation’s praises while silently questioning one another’s interests.

Then the third act comes, and with it a seemingly insurmountable dilemma for our characters that may not come as a tremendous surprise, yet finally galvanizes each lead’s performance, raises the stakes and lends resonance to the film’s title. It’s just enough honest turmoil to alleviate the aw-shucks strokes of the first two acts, but it also marks a tonal turn just harsh enough that one wishes Bahrani had tipped his hand a bit sooner, so that his paean to corn rows and furrowed brows might have seemed more gripping, more heartbreaking, more true by the end.

SCORE: 5.5 / 10

“At Any Price” will be released in New York City tomorrow, and will expand across the country over the coming weeks.

Categories: Reviews

Tags: At any price, Dennis quaid, Nascar, Ramin Bahrani, Review, Zac efron

Tribeca Review: ‘Almost Christmas’

Paul Giamatti is a national treasure. If he is in a movie it is categorically impossible for it to be all bad. Despite “Junebug” director Phil Morrison and FX’s “The Americans” writer Melissa James Gibson’s best efforts to keep “Almost Christmas” a lifeless and wholly forgettable film, Giamatti’s inherent virtues prevent this movie from evaporating into nothingness. While dismissing this dully scripted, lackluster film seems like the only reasonable response, Giamatti’s natural, everyman empathy has the unusual power of lending an importance to rote scenes, turning the bland into the sublime and rescuing the movie from full failure.

Nevertheless, “Almost Christmas,” a film about French Canadian Christmas tree salesmen stationed on a Brooklyn street corner, still stinks, which is especially upsetting when you consider that this is Morrison’s first directorial effort since 2005's wonderful “Junebug.”

From the first moments of its trying-too-hard opening credits, this tale of a thief newly sprung from prison and trying to go straight just can’t get a handle on what sort of movie it wants to be. There are tones of 1970s shaggy realism that are interrupted by moments of character-driven shtick. The wistful scenes aren’t rich enough to engross you and the comedy isn’t clever enough to make a difference. The bulk of the film is about two men stewing in regret, and you’ll sympathize because you’ll be sitting right there along with them.

Giamatti’s Dennis, unable to find work and unwelcomed by his ex-wife Therese (Amy Landecker,) hooks up with his ex-partner Rene (Paul Rudd.) Rene has gone straight, and busted his ass last winter selling trees down in New York. Since Rene feels a little guilty now that Dennis knows he’s moved in on Therese (who has told Dennis’ daughter that he died of cancer) he allows him to partner up for the season.

There the alleged hijinks ensue as this mismatched pair toil with weather, poor sales and buried feelings, and while some moments are cute, it all feels like an under-workshopped play. The pair try different approaches to move product, a few of which are amusing. Anglophone Rene impersonating a Quebecois is entertaining, if only for the fact that this bit of niche racial humor is fresh.

Sally Hawkins barges onto the stage with the words Act Two’s New Character tattooed on her forehead. She’s a live-in maid at a wealthy couple’s home. A “palace of dentist” who is off skiing in “Hole of Jackson,” as this Russian immigrant calls it. It’s a wacky ethnic caricature on the order of Mickey Rooney’s Japanese neighbor in “Breakfast and Tiffany’s,” and while Hawkins is naturally hilarious (see “Happy Go Lucky”) the performance itself is something of a joke.

And yet, there’s one moment – a loose tag in this unruffled shirt – when Hawkins’ character takes Dennis to a piano store. There are some long lens shots of her playing where the camera drinks in the outer borough scene through the storefront windows that evokes 70s filmmakers like Altman, Mazursky or James Toback. It’s little moments like this that almost make “Almost Christmas” worth watching.

At the heart of it is Giamatti, accepting that a life “gone straight” will be hard and that nothing he can do will win back the family from his past. It’s undeniably touching. There’s a devastating moment with him making a collect phone call that is one of the finest scenes I’ve seen all year.

Giamatti isn’t a chameleon. While perhaps best suited as the sad sack (“American Splendor,” “Sideways,” “Win Win”) even his atypical roles like the exec in “Duplicity,” the idealistic romantic in “Barney’s Version” or founding father in “John Adams” exude a man in constant dialogue with indignity. Even when he’s being brutal he’s agreeable. I can’t think of any actor who can do a funnier angry bit. Maybe Jason Alexander, maybe John Cleese, but neither taps into the sadness and pain that comes with being slapped around for too long by the world.

I almost recommend seeing “Almost Christmas.” It is meandering, low-energy and filled with phoney-feeling side characters and plot turns, but there’s something about shivering in the cold with a broke and directionless Paul Giamatti that seems essential.

SCORE: 5.0 / 10.0

Categories: Reviews

Tags: Almost Christmas, Junebug, Paul giamatti, Paul rudd, Phil Morrison, Review, Tribeca film festival

Exclusive Clip: ‘Lily’ (2013 Tribeca Film Festival)

We’re only about halfway through this year’s edition of The Tribeca Film Festival, but I have a hard time believing that anything is gonna displace Matt Creed’s debut feature as my favorite premiere of the fest. “Lily” is a beautifully rendered portrait of a young woman preparing to take the next step as she finishes treatment for breast cancer, a film that’s tiny but true, as precise as it is universally relatable. Indebted to the free-flowing spirit of John Cassavetes and inspired by lead actress Amy Grantham’s fight with cancer, “Lily” is the kind of movie that proves – among other things – that there’s hope for indie film beyond the likes of Sundance and SXSW, and that Tribeca is full of buried treasure if you know where to look.

I recently chatted with Matt and Amy about how “Lily” came to be, and we’ll have that interview up on the site in the next little bit, but for now we’re super pleased to present an exclusive clip from the film. It might seem like a strange excerpt, but this bit of footage nicely articulates the two worlds that Lily is forced to navigate between.

“Lily” will screen two more times at TFF, and will play at other festivals over the coming months.

Categories: No Categories

Tags: Exclusive Clip, Lily, Tribeca Film Festival 2013

The 2013 Tribeca Film Festival: Our 20 Most Anticipated Films

The 11th annual Tribeca Film Festival kicks off this evening, bringing more than 150 films from every corner of the globe to downtown Manhattan over the course of the next 11 days. Launched by Robert De Niro (and pals) in order to help revitalize New York City in the wake of 9/11, the Tribeca Film Festival has since struggled to maintain an identity as we’ve moved forward from the tragedy that initially provided its purpose. A massive cornucopia of movies large and small that isn’t curated so much as it’s contained, TFF seemed to think that a festival could be as big as its wallet, ignoring the fact that these things take years to cultivate. A heavy corporate presence and a notoriously substandard lineup have hindered the fest from becoming an invaluable event on the cinematic calendar – it’s as expansive as the Toronto International Film Festival, with just as much to watch but precious little worth seeing.

Be that as it may, the folks behind the festival have remained admirably determined to make it a true New York City institution. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when things began to change, but most repeat attendees would agree that TFF recently turned a corner. With every passing year, TFF is more seamlessly woven into the fabric of this city, and with every passing year it becomes more of a viable place from which to launch a major film (it helps that Tribeca Film has become a serious player in the industry, and that fest premieres like “War Witch” have earned meaningful acclaim). In 11 short years, TFF has evolved from a statement to a joke to an increasingly indispensable event, and the apparent strength of this year’s (remarkably diverse) lineup suggests that things are only getting better.

Still, with approximately three billion movies playing in the next 11 days, it can be tough to know what to see. So, after scouring the line-up and hearing as many informed opinions as possible, I present to you Film.com’s 20 Most Anticipated Films of the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival. It’s gonna be a good one.

ALMOST CHRISTMAS (Spotlight)
Directed by Phil Morrison

Historically, it’s not always the best sign when a movie loaded with familiar faces makes its world premiere at Tribeca, the conventional wisdom suggesting that both Sundance and SXSW have passed on the chance to debut it. Nevertheless, as TFF continues to grow in esteem and proves itself as a capable launching ground for major works (“War Witch” comes to mind), the alarm bulls are growing quieter. As far as “Almost Christmas” is concerned, such fears are allayed even further by the fact that director Phil Morrison was responsible for the wise indie charmer “Junebug.”

“Almost Christmas’ tells the story of two heavily bearded French Canadian schemers (Paul Rudd as Rene and Paul Giamatti as Dennis) who travel to New York City with a surefire plan to get rich by selling Christmas trees. Complicating matters is the fact that Rene recently stole Dennis’ wife (played by the indomitable Sally Hawkins). A brittle buddy comedy with a compulsively watchable cast, “Almost Christmas” should enjoy wide exposure so long as it’s even moderately entertaining.

ADULT WORLD (Spotlight)
Directed by Scott Coffey

You had me at “Emma Roberts is an aspiring poet who gets a part-time job working at a sex shop.” A world premiere from polymath Scott Coffey (who played Wilkins in “Mulholland Dr.” and made his directorial debut with “Ellie Parker” back in 2005), “Adult World” seems like a sly black comedy that could definitely find an audience, particularly with John Cusack finally having some fun, again, here playing a reclusive writer for whom Roberts is hoping to intern.

BEFORE MIDNIGHT (Spotlight)
Directed by Richard Linklater

This might be a bit of a cheat (I’ve already seen it twice), but I’m more excited to revisit the third chapter of the cinema’s greatest evolving romance than I am to see almost any other film at the fest for the first time. I’ve been almost pathologically militant about people revealing any details about the film’s plot or the circumstances in which it unfolds, but I’m convinced that “Before Midnight” is Richard Linklater’s masterpiece, a genuinely perfect thing that stands toe-to-toe with the likes of “Certified Copy” and “Journey to Italy.” As excited as I am for additional opportunities to see the movie, I’m even more jazzed about the Tribeca Talk that the festival is hosting on April 22, during which Linklater will moderate a panel with collaborators Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy.

BEFORE SNOWFALL (World Narrative Competition)
Directed by Hisham Zaman

A Kurdish film by way of Germany, Norway and Iraq, Hisham Zaman’s “Before Snowfall” is a severe drama that examines the the moral crises involved in the practice of honor killings. Beginning in Kurdistan, where a young boy watches his older sister abscond from an arranged marriage, and heading towards Istanbul, where the boy is forced to make amends for his sibling’s perceived slight, “Before Snowfall” is a portrait of a life-defining tradition as it’s stretched across borders and generations.

Variety’s review wasn’t especially kind, but the unfortunately urgent subject matter should warrant a look.

BIG MEN (Documentary Competition)
Directed by Rachel Boynton

“Our Brand is Crisis” established Rachel Boynton as one of the world’s foremost cinematic muckrakers, and her raised profile has allowed her access to stories that might otherwise be impossible for her to capture on camera. Leveraging her past success, Boynton’s new film (which is enjoying its world premiere at Tribeca) lifts the lid on the massive oil companies that fuel Africa, investigating the greed that drives their profits and the extensive toll that it has levied against the continent and its people.

Executive produced by Brad Pitt, “Big Men” could be one of the documentaries that we’re talking about for the rest of the year.

THE BROKEN CIRCLE BREAKDOWN (Narrative Competition)
Directed by Felix van Groeningen

Felix van Groeningen’s “The Misfortunates” premiered to rave reviews in Cannes at 2009, but unfortunately it never picked up much traction on these shores, and remains a woefully under-seen gem. Now, van Groeningen returns to prove once again that the Dardenne brothers aren’t the final word in Belgian cinema, “The Broken Circle Breakdown” offering a foot-stomping blast of raw heartbreak.

After receiving strong reviews from the Berlin Film Festival, this hip contemporary story of a musician and a tattoo artist trying to save their faltering marriage comes to Tribeca with a sizable head of steam (I’m tempted to think of it as “Bluegrass Valentine”). Allegedly broad, effective and enjoyable from start to finish, “The Broken Circle Breakdown” could be one of the festival’s breakout hits.

A CASE OF YOU (Spotlight)
Directed by Kat Coiro

The multitalented Kat Coiro was at Tribeca last year with her sensuously sad monochromatic drama “While We Were Here,” which is still awaiting the attention she deserves. Apparently not one to rest on her laurels, Coiro is already back with her third feature, “A Case of You,” a romantic comedy about a writer (Justin Long) who tries to woo the barista of his dreams (Evan Rachel Wood) by creating a fake social media profile (in other words, he Catfishes her?). Boasting a mess of cameos from the likes of Peter Dinklage and Sam Rockwell, “A Case of You” has as much breakout potential as any film at the festival, and the early buzz is trending towards the positive.

CUTIE AND THE BOXER (Viewpoints)
Directed by Zachary Heinzerling

A unique portrait of the modern muse (to say the least) and the extent to which a relationship between artists is always subservient to the art it inspires, “Cutie and the Boxer” is a candid documentary about 80-year-old “boxing” painter Ushio Shinohara, who the film finds hoping to reclaim the zeitgeist with his latest exhibition. Ushio’s long-suffering wife Noriko is not only his reluctant assistant, but also his inspiration, their marriage completely dominated by the massive paintings that distill and preserve its beauty.

Early reports indicate that Zachary Heinzerling’s first feature-length film is one of the fest’s best.

THE ENGLISH TEACHER (Spotlight)
Directed by Craig Zisk

Judging by his IMDB page, Craig Zisk has directed an episode of every TV in the history of TV shows (give or take). Most importantly, he recently stepped behind the camera for an episode of “New Girl,” which – as far as I’m concerned – makes him one of the most important artists currently living. His debut feature certainly has a pedigree worthy of its experience, as it stars Julianne Moore as the eponymous educator whose dull life is ruffled by the return of a former student and his deadbeat dad.

Billed as “an insightful comedy about self-discovery,” “The English Teacher” also reunites “Mirror Mirror” co-stars Nathan Lane and Lily Collins. On a slightly more troubling note, the film also stars the Kiss of Death himself, Greg Kinnear. However it turned out, “The English Teacher” is already available to rent on iTunes, so feel free to see for yourself whether or not the film deserves a pass.

HAUTE CUISINE (Spotlight)
Directed by Christian Vincent

A bon mot for foodies, Christian Vincent’s “Haute Cuisine” premiered to rather tasty (ohmygodhedidnot) reviews at last year’s Venice Film Festival. Based on a true story, “Haute Cuisine” is a warm and effervescent comedy about the cook (Catherine Frot) who was plucked from obscurity and hand-picked to work as the personal chef for French president François Mitterrand (who served from 1981-1995). Reportedly a parade of mouth-watering dishes the likes of which the movies haven’t seen since “Big Night” or “Babette’s Feast” before that, Vincent’s film strikes me like the kind of film that could earn major traction with niche audiences. The Weinstein Company seems to agree, as they’ve picked it up for a release later this year.

READ OUR NEXT 10 PICKS ON PAGE 2!

Categories: No Categories

Tags: 2013 Tribeca Film Festival, Before Midnight, Emma roberts, Julianne moore, Julie Delpy, Justin long, Paul giamatti, Paul rudd, Preview, Richard linklater, Some Velvet Morning, Tribeca film festival

Tribeca Film Festival Review: ‘The English Teacher’

There’s a market for everything. I’m sure they teach that at Harvard Business School, but it’s also just common sense. As hard as it might be for me to believe, the fact of the matter is that, somewhere out there, a moviegoer is wishing they could see a film just like the 2008 Steve Coogan vehicle “Hamlet 2,” but with none of the bite or incisive wit. For that person, and that person alone, there’s “The English Teacher.”

“The English Teacher,” from TV vet Craig Zisk (“Parks and Recreation,” “Scrubs,” “Grounded For Life,” “Brooklyn Bridge” and many others,) is a tone-deaf comedy flipping like a gasping fish between silly and maudlin. Despite a lead performance by the always welcome Julianne Moore it is rudderless in its presentation and outright stupid in its central conceits. To make matters worse it is 100 percent predictable, so there aren’t even shocks to wake your from the unfunny torpor. I pride myself on giving each movie a chance, but I wasn’t 45 seconds into this film the first of many red flags popped up. (That would be the annoying fake storybook voiceover.) By minute 85 I was simply moaning “ennnnd, ennnnd, pleeeeease ennnnnd.”

Moore plays a 45 year old unwed English teacher in Picket Fence, USA who believes herself to be happy merely living single and introducing kids to literature. (How condescending is it that this movie just takes it on faith that we the audience know how much she desperately wants a man?) An opening montage of bad dates – taken from three hundred thousand sitcoms – is the best part of the movie.

One night she happens upon an old student played by Michael Angarano, who was quite amusing in “The Brass Teapot.” (Actually, she pepper sprays him, thinking him a burglar, one of the few funny gags in the picture.) He’s living at home having washed out in New York after graduating from NYU’s dramatic writing program. His dad (Greg Kinnear, natch) is helping him prep for law school, but Moore takes a look at his unproduced play and falls in love.

She’s quick to enthrall the theater teacher (Nathan Lane on autopilot) and next thing you know they’re putting on a show. Suddenly, everyone is taking this very seriously (like refusing to make story adjustments, spending all kinds of money) as if a high school play in the middle of nowhere means anything.

Alexandre Payne’s “Election” is a marvelous movie because it offers up student government as an allegory for politics while still getting to play with the conventions of the high school film. “The English Teacher” does none of this. “The English Teacher” goes through the motions of allegedly dramatic romantic misunderstandings and overblown backstage hijinks. Zisk’s sitcom roots show to an embarrassing degree with kids hiding behind cars with cellphone cams and goofy sound effects cues that seem ripped from an episode of “Scooby Doo.”

At the heart of it, though, is poor Julianne Moore, acting her heart out. In every scene there are instances of her making “good choices.” Unexpected actorly tics and line readings that would go over really well . . . on a show like “Parks and Recreation.” But “The English Teacher” it’s an avalanche of these moments. Zisk has no idea how to pace a feature film (to be fair, he isn’t given much of a chance with Dan and Stacy Chariton’s abysmal script) so he simply goes all-in on Moore’s natural talent. Sometimes there is a pastry that is just too sweet.

Jessica Hecht and Norbert Leo Butz play the Principal and Vice Principal and they’re very funny because they pop in for quick, snack-sized scenes at an arm’s length from the uninteresting central drama. There are times when you come away from a bad movie liking the side characters saying “boy, if they only made a movie about THEM!” My gut suspicion, however, is that you’d also need a new writing and directing team to make that work.

SCORE: 2.0 / 10

“The English Teacher” is playing at the Tribeca Film Festival, and it is also available on iTunes and VOD.

Categories: Reviews

Tags: Craig Zisk, Greg kinnear, Julianne moore, Lily collins, Michael angarano, The English Teacher, Tribeca film festival