All In: Tribeca Review

NEW YORK An Argentine import whose amiable vibe persists despite some odd screenwriting contrivances, Daniel Burman's All In (La Suerte en Tus Manos) begs for the complaint that it never pushes all its chips into the pot, leaving viewers to expect much gutsier romantic gameplay from its perpetually half-hearted protagonist. The presence of musician Jorge Drexler in the lead may help theatrical prospects in Latin-leaning markets, but the arthouse outlook is mild.

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Drexler plays Uriel, a divorced dad who enters the picture in his doctor's office, declaring it's time to get a vasectomy so he can enjoy his bachelorhood with peace of mind. A hustler who's always looking for special deals (and cheerfully lies to get them), he's disconcertingly dishonest with his children as well, despite appearing to love them.

While on a gambling vacation, poker fan Uriel stumbles across his world weary ex-girlfriend Gloria (Valeria Bertuccelli), newly single and ready to be convinced she should give him another chance. But the two meet on the day of Uriel's surgery, and for some reason Uriel refuses to tell Gloria that's the reason he won't have sex with her immediately.

Instead, he says he wants to take things slow, giving her the romance he avoided when they knew each other way back when. But he goes beyond lies of omission, hatching further falsehoods about a career more glamorous than his job in finance -- the more time he spends with his old flame, the harder it becomes to tell the truth.

If we fail to identify with Uriel, the blame can't be placed on Drexler, who sinks into the part easily despite his lack of experience. (He won an Oscar for a song he composed for The Motorcycle Diaries, but is a novice onscreen.) Rather, it's that the screenplay forces him to continue behaving like love is an afterthought, long after he's meant to be focused on the relationship: Even in the film's ludicrous climax, there's no obstacle keeping the two from each other -- Uriel simply decides to keep playing poker when he's supposed to have a make-or-break date with his children and girlfriend.

Poker has plenty of potential as a metaphor here, but the script can't figure out what to do with it. The pic relies even more heavily on Jewish themes, for no clear reason beyond building to a silly musical number at the end, in which Uriel's guitar-playing son jams with a band called -- surely this is better in Spanish -- the Rabbi-ing Stones. As weird as the screenplay is, the leads' performances keep the movie afloat, earning more goodwill than their characters probably deserve.

Venue: Tribeca Film Festival, World Narrative Competition
Production Company: BDCine
Cast: Jorge Drexler, Valeria Bertuccelli, Norma Aleandro, Gabriel Schultz, Luis Brandoni, Paloma Alvarez Maldonado, Lucciano Pizzichini
Director: Daniel Burman
Screenwriters: Daniel Burman, Sergio Dubcovsky
Producer: Diego Dubcovsky
Executive producer: Jimena Blanco
Director of photography: Daniel Ortega
Production designer: Lilia Scenna
Music: Nico Cota
Costume designer: Roberta Pesci
Editor: Luis Barros
Sales: Jimena Blanco, BD Cine
No rating, 112 minutes

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High Tech, Low Life: Tribeca Review

NEW YORK Offering a small window through China's "Great Firewall," Stephen Maing's High Tech, Low Life follows two citizen journalists whose attempts to spread unwelcome news draws low-key harassment from local authorities. Commercial prospects are limited by the doc's narrow scope and dry delivery, but the worthy topic will attract attention at fests.

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Maing's two subjects, the 50-something "Tiger Temple" and 20ish "Zola," share little beyond a willingness to leave home in pursuit of stories the official media doesn't want to cover. Zola's "Western" style is egocentric and fame-seeking; when he visits a village where an officials relative has allegedly raped and killed a high schooler, he takes a smiling self-portrait beside the girl's coffin. Tiger, by contrast, is an earnest journo-activist, bringing food to his impoverished interviewees and helping them file complaints about environmental crimes.

Maing tags along on some of their reporting missions (Tiger bikes thousands of miles while documenting farmers' problems), letting each speak a bit about how they fell into blogging and how they reconcile what they do with ideals of journalistic objectivity. We watch Zola circumvent internet censorship early on, but little real interference pops up until late in the film, when he is kept from leaving the country and Tiger is forced out of his Beijing home briefly, lest he attract the Western media's attention.

Little effort is made to place the two men in a broader context -- we leave the film with no idea how many people are doing this in China, where these two stand within the online community, and whether state media outlets have changed at all in response to them. But we do see that readers are paying attention -- at one point, at least 200,000 people are reading Zola's posts, hungry to hear from a credible source even if, as one commenter puts it, "I hate your personality, but people like you are still of value."

Venue: Tribeca Film Festival, World Documentary Competition
Production Companies: Mud Horse Pictures, ITVS
Director-Director of photography: Stephen Maing
Producers: Stephen Maing, Trina Rodriguez
Editors: Stephen Maing, Jonathan Oppenheim
No rating, 88 minutes

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The Revisionaries: Tribeca Review

NEW YORK Americans inclined to read "Texan" as a synonym for "extremist" will be spellbound by Scott Thurman's The Revisionaries, which both finds another example in which a few Lone Star fundamentalists influence the whole country and demonstrates that, contrary to popular perception, many in the state oppose their views fiercely. Engaging and broadly relevant, the doc will play well to festival auds.

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Revolving around the State Board of Education's review of textbook standards, the film opens with a worrisome market-based observation: Since Texas and California are the country's largest purchasers of textbooks, anything unlikely to meet Texas standards may well not get published. And since BOE elections are down-ticket races most voters barely even notice, it doesn't take much for an outsider to become one of the most important figures in the U.S. education system.

Take Don McLeroy, a dentist whose strict interpretation of the Bible holds that the earth was created less than ten thousand years ago. Though his only education experience is teaching Sunday School, McLeroy was the chair of the BOE for almost two years -- a period during which the board examined guidelines for the science texts that would mold young minds for years to come.

McLeroy is a decent fellow, and unlike some of Rick Perry's other political appointees (like Forensic Science Commission officer John Bradley, in the recent doc Incendiary) he didn't steamroll opponents with underhanded bureaucratic maneuvers. But whatever he could do in good conscience to weaken textbooks' presentation of the theory of Evolution, he did.

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(Friendly guy or not, Dr. McLeroy deserves to take professional heat for being seen here in his office, pick digging into innocent patients' teeth, while saying things like "Hey, Michael, you ever thought much about evolution?")

McLeroy and other fundamentalists on the board are opposed by activists and academics investing huge amounts of time and energy to keep actual science in the classroom; though they win some fights (like eventually getting McLeroy removed as Chair), they lose many. Thurman's film is clearly on their side, and conservatives may feel he uses one or two too many opportunities to show far-right-wingers at their far-right-wingiest. He doesn't take cheap shots, though, and The Revisionaries takes pains to show opposing sides treating each other with respect where possible.

Venue: Tribeca Film Festival, World Documentary Competition
Production Companies: Silver Lining Film Group, Magic Hour Entertainment, Naked Edge Films
Director: Scott Thurman
Screenwriters: Jawad Metni, Scott Thurman
Producers: Pierson Silver, Orlando Wood, Scott Thurman
Executive producers: Jim Butterworth, Vijay Dewan
Director of photography: Zac Sprague, Scott Thurman
Music: Mark Orton
Editor: Jawad Metni
Sales: Daniel Chalfen, Naked Edge Films
No rating, 83 minutes

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People v. the State of Illusion: Film Review

The latest entry in the What the Bleep Do We Know school of filmmaking, People v. the State of Illusion assembles worthwhile ideas about self-actualization in an ungainly hybrid of talking-head documentary, dramatic enactment and computer-generated effects. The movie features an impressive collection of authorities in neuroscience, biochemistry and psychology, and shouldnt be lumped into the same bin of noxious inanity as The Secret. New Age seekers and quantum physics enthusiasts will form its core audience, with word of mouth crucial as it continues its rollout in select markets, adding Los Angeles on April 27.

In his first film project, writer-producer Austin Vickers, a trial lawyer turned self-described leadership training expert, appears onscreen as a guide to the statistics and philosophies that support his case against an out-of-balance, unfulfilled life. Efficiently directed by Scott Cervine, Illusion proceeds with a grounded sense of urgency about the mental prisons we create for ourselves and uses an all-too-literal mini-saga about a man in prison to illustrate its message.

This fictional element, entirely unconvincing through no fault of the actors,
concerns an overworked, self-medicated single father (J.B. Tuttle) whos sentenced to six years in a penitentiary for vehicular manslaughter and a number of other charges. His story, intercut with the informational material, is designed to be inspirational, tracing one (symbolic) mans evolution from stuck to enlightened. Guiding his smooth-as-silk awakening is a Gandhi-quoting janitor (Michael McCormick), a construct thats easier to buy than the guard (Kevin McDonald) who comes to view him as a mentor.

The enactment is not only an awkward interruption of a mostly compelling discussion but an unnecessary one. Vickers thesis and the arguments of his expert witnesses might not be thrilling cinema, but they communicate a number of provocative and intriguing ideas with clarity.

Revolving around concepts in brain science, the film is a motivational primer in human potential, asserting the possibility of change without delving into the nitty-gritty of making it happen. As vague as some of the interviewees prescriptions can be, they do at least, for the most part, avoid the New Age mantra of manifesting. Illusion works as an informed conversation on the ways our beliefs and neurological/emotional patterns limit us and can be destructive, and it frames such familiar modern-day maladies as consumerism, addiction and chronic stress in a potentially helpful new light.

Opens: Friday, April 27 (Samuel Goldwyn Films)
An Intention Media/Movies from the Heart presentation in association with Exalt Films
Cast: J.B. Tuttle, Michael McCormick, Kevin McDonald, Tad Jones, Melanie Lindahl, Amy Baklini
With: Joe Dispenza, Debbie Ford, Brenda Dunne, Robert Jahn, Thomas Moore, Candace Pert, Peter Senge, Mike Vandermark
Director: Scott Cervine
Producer-writer: Austin Vickers
Directors of photography: David Fisher (narrative), Jeff Halperin (interviews)
Editor: Scott Cervine
No MPAA rating, 86 minutes

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Going Down in La-La Land: Film Review

With a title like Going Down in La-La Land, it doesnt seem likely that Casper Andreas film is going to be marked by restraint. But restrained it is, at least compared to such previous gay-themed efforts by the filmmaker as Slutty Summer and The Big Gay Musical. While this tale of a young man who finds himself shocked -- shocked! -- to discover that sleaze is prevalent in Hollywood doesnt exactly break any new dramatic ground, it, um, goes down easily enough.

The protagonist of this latest variation on an all-too-familiar theme is Adam (Matthew Ludwinski), a young actor has just arrived in L.A. to pursue his dreams. Rooming with his best friend Candy (Allison Lane) -- also an aspiring actor, though one more interested in landing a rich man than a good part -- he discovers that, despite his hunky good looks and all-American appeal, the town isnt immediately ready to fall at his feet.

After dutifully networking at the gym, he lands an office job at Jet Set Men which turns out to be, you guessed it, a gay porn outfit. It isnt long before the financially strapped Adam agrees to his boss arguments that his talents would be better showcased in front of the camera, which leads to his moonlighting as a male escort and a relationship with a client (Michael Medico) who is the closeted star of a hit sitcom.

Veering uneasily at times into melodrama -- especially with a subplot involving a drug-addicted co-worker (played by director Andreas) who attacks Adam with a knife -- La-La Land is more grim than its title would suggest. But it does depict its West Hollywood milieu with a comic, insiders knowingness, and the cameo appearances by such figures as Bruce Vilanch, comedian Judy Tenuta and actor Alec Mapa (playing himself, dishing out bitchy insults about fellow patrons at a bar) only add to the atmosphere.

Ludwinski, who frequently bares his gym-toned body, is certainly up to the physical demands of his role. And hes appealing enough to make you cheer for his character in the film's fairy tale-style ending.

Opens: Friday, April 20 (Embrem Entertainment)
Production: La-La Land Films
Cast: Matthew Ludwinski, Allison Lane, Michael Medico, Casper Andreas, John Schile
Director-producer: Casper Andreas
Screenwriters: Casper Andreas, Andy Zeffer
Executive producers: Bryan Guarnieri, Simon Jorna, Linda Larson, Mich Lyon, George M. Taninatz
Director of photography: Timothy Naylor
Editor: Alexander Hammer
Production designer: Shannon Lee Fitzgerald
Costume designer: Sarah Jeanne Mgeni
Music: Michael W. Barry
No rating, 104 minutes

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Get the Gringo: Film Review

Get the Gringo may be the gamiest south-of-the-border film excursion since Sam Peckinpah went rummaging around Mexico for Alfredo Garcia's head. An odd project in every respect, not least for the fact that it will bypass theatrical release in the United States to go the VOD route on DirectTV beginning May 1, this maverick Icon production is almost invigorating in its disreputability; it's both cheesy and striking, corny and bold, dismissible and yet strangely appealing for its singularity. After the disappointment of Edge of Darkness and the complete bust of The Beaver in the wake of waves of bad personal publicity, the box office appeal of star, co-producer and co-writer Mel Gibson is obviously highly questionable, and the grungy prison squalor of this violent semi-comic crime story will be an additional turnoff to many. Still, the film is shot through with a number of interesting currents and much imaginative action, making it worth a look for the curious as well as for hardcore Gibson fans of old, wherever they may be. The film has already opened theatrically in a few international markets, including Israel, Russia and Greece.

VIDEO: Get The Gringo Trailer Hit

Debuting director Adrian Grunberg was assistant director on Gibson's Apocalypto and second unit director on Edge of Darkness and while he may not have a firm hand on the film's sometimes wobbly tone, he definitely has a feel for the kind of gritty violence that's most important to this story of a professional American criminal who lands in the most notorious prison in Mexico.

Right off the bat, in a wild, stops-out car chase in which the existentially named Driver (Gibson), dressed in clownface and loaded with cash, leads some U.S. agents in a mad dash across the desert toward Mexico, the story's roots in the fertile ground of late '60s/early '70s action genre fare is plainly evident. Driver floors it alongside the metal fence stretched along the border until, in desperation, he crashes through it. Initially disposed to handing the gringo back to his pursuers, the Mexican cops take one look at his stash and decide they'll keep the guy after all and send him to "El Pueblito."

Gibson's admittedly tarnished allure notwithstanding, El Pueblito is arguably the star of Get the Gringo. Resourcefully recreated by production designer Bernardo Trujillo in a shut-down penitentiary in Veracruz, El Pueblito was a teaming cesspool in Tijuana designed for 2000 prisoners which, at the time of its closing in 2002, held three times that many. As pungently shown here, it's a city unto itself, where inmates not only circulate freely in a bazaar worthy of ancient Timbuktu, where anything, from drugs, sex and guns to toys, food and soft drinks, is available. With so many people crammed in, it's a human petri dish.

As an obvious Yanqui among Mexican's society's detritus, Driver would seem unlikely to last long. But he keeps his head down long enough to get the lay of the land and shortly befriends a tough 10-year-old kid (Kevin Hernandez) who's stuck there with his mom (Dolores Heredia) and is determined to take revenge on the man who killed his father. Driver, it turns out, had major father issues of his own but for now must navigate through the prison's feudal-style hierarchy and strategize a way out of hell.

The beastliness of this Midnight Express world is meant to be lightened by the whimsically philosophical voice-over observations from Driver that frequently litter the soundtrack. Grunberg, whose Argentinian parents raised him in Spain and who now lives in Mexico, occasionally attempts to match the quasi-sardonic narration with left-field comic moments that seem to spring from nowhere, resulting in sporadic levity that adds flavor from time to time but is far too inconsistent and imprecise to lift the film to a Leone, Tarantino or Coen Brothers realm of violence shot through with black humor.

There's also a bizarre central plot component of a liver transplant involving the kid and the prison's insidious kingpin Javi (Daniel Gimenez Cacho), the frenzied culmination of which is so insane that it cries out for the sort of slapstick handling that lies well beyond the director's skill set at this point.

Still, any number of other scenes, which mostly involve many characters and innumerable extras in chaotic, complicated settings, are pulled off with vigor and a solid feel for what counts visually. As in so many of the straight-ahead, modestly budgeted, brass-tacks action films of 40 years ago, there are no visual pretentions or fancy-schmantzy effects here, just rational judgment applied to how to get a scene done as efficiently and effectively as possible.

With the government about to move in to shut down the beyond-the-pale prison and Javi desperate to get his liver transplant before it's too late, Driver finally has his ducks set up to try to help the kid and effect retribution on those who have it coming (as part of his scheme, he amusingly disarms some big shots over the phone by pretending to be one of Hollywood's most venerable stars). As the resolution takes shape, Driver emerges as yet another variation on Gibson's preferred sort of hero, a deeply flawed man able to at least partially redeem himself by doing a good and noble deed for someone else.

Gibson still has all the energy, impulsive gear-shifting ability and growly vocal command to anchor a muscular film such as this; he co-wrote it for himself, after all, and he certainly knows by now what he does best. Hernandez is entirely credible as a tough little customer with real guts and all the actors playing bad guys seize their opportunities with relish.

The widescreen cinematography by Belgian d.p. Benoit Debie, who shot Irreversible and Enter the Void for Gaspar Noe, is deliciously grubby. Brisk but not overdone editing brings the film in at a very tight hour-and-a-half and Mexican music is both joked about and made use of.

Opens: May 1 (VOD)

Production: Icon

Cast: Mel Gibson, Kevin Hernandez, Daniel Gimenez Cacho, Dolores Heredia, Peter Gerety, Peter Stormare, Jesus Ochoa, Roberto Sosa, Bob Gunton, Patrick Bauchau, Tenoch Huerta Mejia, Scott Cohen, Dean Norris, Fernando Becerril

Director: Adrian Grunberg

Screenwriters: Adrian Grunberg, Mel Gibson, Stacy Perskie

Producers: Mel Gibson, Bruce Davey, Stacy Perskie

Executive producer: Ann Ruark

Director of photography: Benoit Debie

Production designer: Bernardo Trujillo

Costume designer: Anna Terrazas

Editor: Steven Rosenblum

Music: Antonio Pinto

R rating, 95 minutes

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The Avengers: Film Review

The All-Star Game of modern superhero extravaganzas, The Avengers is humongous, the film Marvel and its legions of fans have been waiting for. It's hard to imagine that anyone with an appetite for the trademark's patented brand of fantasy, effects, mayhem and strangely dressed he-men will be disappointed; not only does this eye-popping 3D display of visual effects fireworks feature an enormously high proportion of action scenes, but director Joss Whedon has adroitly balanced the celebrity circus to give every single one of the superstar characters his or her due. Worldwide box office returns will be, in a word, Marvelous.

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Over the past several years, Marvel has, with accelerated speed, expanded its cinematic repertoire of over-muscled, generally double-identitied heroes not otherwise encumbered by exclusive contracts with other studiosmost notably The Hulk, Iron Man, Thor and Captain America--to arrive at the point where this summit meeting of superhuman good guys could be assembled. (A prominent relative, Spider-Man, has his own reboot coming up this summer.) After this, the characters will go their separate ways (Iron Man 3 starts shooting next month, with second chapters of Thor and Captain America set to roll within the year) before gathering again before too many movie summers pass. With the bundle this one will make, the pressure will be on make it happen sooner rather than later.

As creatively variable and predictably formulaic as the Marvel films have been, this one will not only make the core geek audience feel like it's died and gone to Asgard but has so much going for it that many non-fans will be disarmed and charmed. This is effects-driven, mass appeal summer fare par excellence, that sought-after rare bird that hits all the quadrants, as marketing mavens like to say. As enormous as the production is, though, the appeal of the ensemble cast makes a crucial difference; you get enough but not too much of each of them and they all get multiple scenes to themselves to shine.

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To boil down the particulars of this latest attempt to bring ruin to all we hold dear, sinister Thor villain Loki (Tom Hiddleston, looking like Richard E. Grant's effete younger brother), has gained possession of the tesseract, an all-powerful substance contained in an opaque cube that not only provides unlimited sustainable energy but a portal to outer space. I am burdened with glorious purpose, Loki purrs while taunting eye-patched S.H.I.E.L.D. master Samuel L. Jackson (finally with something to do in a Marvel film) with the promised arrival of his army of outer space warriors.

Down but not out, the good guys begin assembling on board one of the cooler modes of transport seen anywhere in a while, a giant (and beautifully rendered) aircraft carrier that can rise out of the water to become an invisible space shiphence, a helicarrier--and serve as a first-rate staging area for operations against Loki. Among those arriving on board are Bruce Banner, otherwise known as The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo, the third actor, after Eric Bana and Edward Norton, to give the green giant a go); Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Scarlet Johansson), a sultry scarlet-haired assassin first seen turning the tables on nasty interrogators despite being strapped to a chair; Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Loki's long-locked brother and bearer of the universe's mightiest hammer, and Mr. Old School himself, Steve Rogers, aka Captain America (Chris Evans), a World War II hero who's not quite up to speed on all the latest super-technology but who does carry an impenetrable shield. For his part, Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark, better known as Iron Man, joins incipient girlfriend Pepper (Gwyneth Paltrow) for a brief-tete-a-tete before deigning to lend his special expertise to the cause.

Although they really should be saving their energy for the the battle against Loki and his minions, the Avengers team can't resist getting into it with each other from time to time. One could say that this is just gratuitous time-killing, but it could as persuasively be argued that watching The Hulk duke it out with Thor for bragging rights as to who's tougher is what such a film is all about; at least there's nothing perfunctory about it, as there is when superheroes routinely dispatch aliens and enemies who exist just to get blown away. The friction between Iron Man and Captain America, for example, is all about style and attitude; the former is far too irreverent and glib for the latter, for whom patriotism and coming to the rescue are not laughing matters.

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'With only one feature directorial credit to his name, the middling 2005 sci-fier Serenity, Whedon of Buffy fame would not have been the first name on most people's lists to tame a potentially unwieldy project. But from a logistical point of view alone, Whedon imposes a grip on the material that feels like that of a benevolent general, marshaling myriad technical resources (including an excellent use of 3D) while, even more impressively, juggling eight major characters, giving them all cool and important things to do.

Never, though, does the film stall to dwell on individual characters just to give them screen time; the heroes are almost always doing something that relates to the challenge at hand. Even when the impudent Loki is held prisoner in seemingly inescapable circumstances, there is still forward movement, which crests and then crashes with tsunami force near Grand Central Station in Manhattan; uncountable numbers of alien warriors arrive from the skies, accompanied by strikingly designed metal leviathans that undulate like skeletal monsters of the deep as they cruise over New York seeking targets.

In this titanic battle, which occupies most of the film's final half-hour, all the Marvel heroes' talents are put to the test. In addition to Iron Man making a quick trip to outer space to deal with an incoming missile, special agent Clint Barton, or Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), is so good with a hi-tech bow and arrow that you imagine they'll have to dragoon Katniss Everdeen into the sequel as a guest star just to see who's better. For his part, Jackson's Nick Fury has his hands full restraining army generals from nuking the Big Apple in order to off the aliens.

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It's clamorous, the save-the-world story is one everyone's seen time and again, and the characters have been around for more than half a century in 500 comic book issues. But Whedon and his cohorts have managed to stir all the personalities and ingredients together so that the resulting dish, however familiar, is irresistibly tasty again. A quick coda reveals, to well-versed fans at least, who the new adversary in the next installment will be, underlining a reality as absolute as the turning of the Earth: Especially after this, Marvel movies will go on and on and on.

Venue: Tribeca Film Festival

Opens: April 25 (international), May 4 (U.S.) (Disney)

Production: Marvel

Cast: Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Hemsworth, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner, Tom Hiddleston, Clark Gregg, Cobie Smulders, Stellan Skarsgard, Samuel L. Jackson, Gwyneth Paltrow, Paul Bettany

Director: Joss Whedon

Screenwriter: JossWhedon, story by Zak Penn, Joss Whedon

Producer: Kevin Feige

Executive producers: Alan Fine, Jon Favreau, Stan Lee, Louis D'Esposito, Patricia Whitcher, Victoria Alonso, Jeremy Latcham

Director of photography: Seamus McGarvey

Production designer: James Chinlund

Costume designer: Alexandra Byrne

Editors: Jeffrey Ford, Lisa Lassek

Music: Alan Silvestri

Visual effects supervisor: Janek Sirrs

PG-13 rating, 142 minutes

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