Last Dance: Melbourne Review

MELBOURNE Two personalities at utter cross-purposes are claustrophobically tucked inside a dimly lit interior in David Pulbrooks low-budget hostage drama Last Dance. Ratcheting up the tension are top-notch performances from veteran actress Julia Blake (Innocence, Human Touch) as an elderly Holocaust survivor and handsome up-and-comer Firass Dirani (Underbelly) as the Palestinian terrorist who takes her captive in her own apartment after a botched suicide bombing at a local synagogue.

Co-funded by the Melbourne International Film Festivals Premiere Fund, this carefully put together, humanistic thriller grapples intelligently with a hot-button international issue. The Australian production, Pulbrooks first outing as a director after a solid editing career, can expect a good festival run following its MIFF bow and arthouse crowds should appreciate its simmering intensity when it releases domestically later this year.

REVIEW: Love Story

The clanging of trams in the opening scene marks the setting as multicultural Melbourne, but the vexing complexities of the conflict in the Middle East resonate globally, as does the ability of compassion to rise above all. Sadiq Mohammad (Dirani) is on the run after fleeing an inner-city bombing attack that has felled many innocent people along with a fellow radical. As sirens wail and search helicopters buzz overhead, the gravely wounded young man bundles Jewish widow Ulah Lippman (Blake) into her home and prepares to hide out as he awaits instructions.

But the spirited elderly victim moves quickly through terror to indignation and disgust and so begins a battle of wills as the two set forward their opposing ideologies and argue over the meaning of the term soldier. Menacing at first, Sadiq reveals enough of himself to allow Mrs. Lippmans maternal instinct to take over when he collapses from his shrapnel wound and, rather than escaping, she nurses him back to health while fending off interest from the authorities and a meddlesome neighbor (Alan Hopgood).

A practically airtight screenplay, an eight-year-long collaboration between Pulbrook and first-time scripter Terence Hammond, allows a supremely unlikely bond to develop organically, with revelations about their individual pasts revealing shared sorrows. It is to the credit of the two leads, who carry what is essentially a two-hander, and to Pulbrooks shrewd camerawork that the film remains dramatically absorbing to the end.

Venue: Melbourne International Film Festival

Production company: Ulah Films

Cast: Julia Blake, Firass Dirani, Danielle Carter

Director: David Pulbrook

Screenwriters: David Pulbrook, Terence Hammond

Producer: Antony I. Ginnane

Executive producers: William Fayman, Ann Lyons, Peter deRauch

Director of photography: Lee Pulbrook

Production designer: Les Binns

Costume designer: Louise McCarthy

Music: Michael Allen

Editor: Phil Reid

Sales: Becker Film Group

No rating, 90 minutes

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Love Story: Melbourne Review

MELBOURNE - A beautiful woman exiting the Coney Island train carrying a piece of cake on a plate prompts German-born New Zealander Florian Habicht to fall in love and make a film in the meta hipster romance, Love Story.

While it doesnt quite deliver on the Truffaut-esque whimsy of the opening scenes, Habichts dreamy-eyed vision and original ideas make thisquasi-documentary, which scooped up a Best Feature Film gong at the Aotearoa Film & Television Awards, a natural for the international festival circuit. Following its run at the Melbourne International Film Festival, Love Story could easily find a berth with an adventurous distributor and prove a hit with young inner-city audiences.

Habicht, playing the part of both director and subject, outsources much of the screenwriting to the extroverted denizens of New York City, blurring the line between real and surreal as he films himself making a film about his own pursuit of the subway beauty, who turns out to be a Russian-born actress named Masha (Masha Yakovenko). Not sure how to woo her, this amiable stringbean in a porkpie hat takes to the streets to interview random people as to how the courtship and the film should proceed.

REVIEW: Mental

Naturally, everyones got an opinion and Habicht incorporates their suggestions into the storyline as love blooms with Masha, his muse and co-conspirator.

Typically poised and articulate, the Gothamites innate confidence contrasts with the wannabe Romeos angular goofiness. Tourist, mutters a female stockbroker whom Habicht accosts in the back of a cab. But she goes on to offer helpful seduction advice and even signs a release form on camera.

A psychic is consulted and the filmmakers father Frank, himself an acclaimed photographer, appears via Skype with some wise counsel regarding the inclusion of a Michael Jackson impersonator.

Some of the developments are disappointingly predictable a bout of impotence, a condom breaking, post-coital fireworks and others are wonderfully off-the-wall (see the way in which a particular body quirk of Habichts boosts the faux couples intimacy.)

Habicht has carved a reputation in New Zealand for arty eccentricity mixed with boundless curiosity in films like 2003s Grimm-inspired musical fairytale Woodenhead and offbeat documentaries Kaikohe Demolition and Land of the Long White Cloud. The high-energy flakiness of New York City makes it the perfect playground for him.

Cinematographer Maria Ines Manchego shoots the acted-out part of the love story with flair, while the interspersed interviews are shot guerrilla-style with a handheld camera. An old-fashioned jazzy score enhances the sense of this summer-in-the-city romance also serving as a Woody Allen-type love letter to the Big Apple.

Venue: Melbourne International Film Festival

Production company: Pictures for Anna

Cast: Masha Yakovenko, Florian Habicht, Frank Habicht and the people of NYC

Director: Florian Habicht

Screenwriters: Florian Habicht, Peter ODonoghue and the people of NYC

Producer: Florian Habicht

Director of photography: Maria Ines Manchego

Editor: Peter O'Donoghue

Sales: Metropolis Film, New Zealand

No MPAA rating, 91 minutes

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Mental: Melbourne Review

MELBOURNE -- If theres method to writer-director PJ Hogans madness, its not obvious from the unruly opening frames of Mental, a suburban comedy that celebrates mayhem and mischief-making as the correct responses to societal straightjackets.

But, aided and abetted by the rule-defying Toni Collette, whose onscreen powers have only multiplied since the two worked together on the much-loved Muriels Wedding in 1994, the equally dissident filmmaker soon makes it clear hes in control of the crazy.

From the moment Collettes knife-wielding hippie hitchhiker arrives to play nanny to a dysfunctional family of girls, the disarmingly cuckoo Australian production finds its focus, punching through the humor with moments of wrenching gravity as it challenges the stereotypes of mental illness.

Conservative audiences will find Mentals super-vivid kitsch and salty language overstimulating. Tough luck, Hogan seems to say, and there are enough broad-minded Aussies to make his homecoming production (following big-budget Hollywood crowd-pleasers My Best Friends Wedding and Confessions of a Shopaholic) a modest-sized hit upon its local release Oct. 4.

Hogans semi-autobiographical work is unrepentantly Australian, and the accents are strident, but the presence of Collette (whose title role in TVs United States of Tara has upped her profile internationally) and Liev Schreiber (Salt, X-Men Origins: Wolverine) may help overseas prospects. Universal Pictures will release Mental in the U.K. on Dec. 7, with a U.S. release yet to be announced.

Just as the songs of ABBA consoled the delightfully oddball title character in Muriels Wedding, Hogan uses The Sound of Music to play doctor to sweet Shirley Moochmore (Rebecca Gibney), a mother of five teenage daughters whose life as a doormat has driven her round the twist.

We meet her belting out The Hills Are Alive as she hangs out the washing in the fictional Queensland coastal town of Dolphin Heads, but soon her philandering politician husband Barry (Without a Traces Anthony LaPaglia) has her committed to a psychiatric hospital.

Charged with caring for a clutch of outcast girls who are each convinced they suffer from their own peculiar disorder, Barry panics and hires Shaz off the side of the road because her dog makes her look trustworthy.

So how do you solve a problem like the Moochmores?

Collette cranks the kook up to 11 as the nutty and inspiring Shaz, fashioning herself as the avenging angel of the perpetually humiliated and leading 16-year-old Coral (Lily Sullivan) and her sisters Michelle (Malorie ONeill), Leanne (Nicole Freeman), Kayleen (Chelsea Bennett) and Jane (Bethany Whitmore) from town jokes toward self-esteem and happiness.

Along the way she upends social conventions -- and not a few wheelie bins -- while questioning the sanity beneath the propriety of the familys neighbors.

Kerry Fox, as a compulsive neatnik, and Caroline Goodall, as Shirleys jealous, doll-collecting older sister, turn in fine portrayals of women passing as normal, while national treasure Deborah Mailman (The Sapphires) is brilliant as a gleefully nonconformist lesbian.

Shaz may look like shes traveling light but she has baggage and an agenda, personified by Corals leathery shark-hunter boss Trevor, played by Schreiber nailing a flawless Australian accent.

Schreibers natural intensity helps to ground this restlessly eccentric film, while the pivotal role of the awkward child-woman Coral should make a star of gorgeous newcomer Lily Sullivan.

Hogans more-is-more credo extends to a jam-packed production design, and bright cinematography by veteran lenser Don McAlpine (Oscar-nominated for Moulin Rouge!) adds to a technically assured production boasting all the breathless ups and downs of a fun-park ride.

Venue: Melbourne International Film Festival
Production companies: Zucker Productions, Story Bridge Films
Cast: Toni Collette, Liev Schreiber, Anthony LaPaglia, Rebecca Gibney, Kerry Fox, Deborah Mailman
Writer-director: PJ Hogan
Producers: Janet Zucker, Jerry Zucker, Todd Fellman, Jocelyn Moorhouse
Executive producers: Gary Hamilton, Bryce Menzies, Lee Soon Kie
Co-producer: Sean Gesell
Director of photography: Don McAlpine
Production designer: Graham Walker
Costume designer: Tim Chappel
Music: Michael Yezerski
Editor: Jill Bilcock
Sales: Arclight
No MPAA rating, 111 minutes

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Hit and Run: Film Review

A chase-oriented B movie that borrows from True Romance for both good and ill, Dax Shepard and David Palmer's Hit and Run benefits from a surprisingly sweet vibe and easygoing chemistry between Shepard and costar Kristen Bell, both in fine form. Its high-octane but low-stakes action may be just the thing for moviegoers weary of summer's operatic superheroes.

Shepard plays Charlie Bronson, an LA bank robber who, after his partners killed a security guard, testified against them and was hidden in tiny Milton, California. Bronson's a sensitive stoolie, though, and showers new girlfriend Annie (Bell) with daily affirmations and selfless love. Still, he hasn't told her how he came to be in the witness-protection program, letting her believe he's always been the benevolent charmer he is today.

VIDEO: Dax Shepard and a Dreadlocked Bradley Cooper Square Off in 'Hit and Run' Trailer

When Annie gets a job offer she can't refuse in LA, Charlie decides to risk going home -- breaking out the muscle car he drove in his bad-boy days to take her downstate. Unfortunately the vintage Continental (with suicide doors, natch) not only brings out traces of Charlie's old self -- cue an amusing debate over acceptable usage of the word "fag" -- but is a clue allowing Annie's old boyfriend Gil (Michael Rosenbaum) to suss out Charlie's identity and, in an effort to split them up, to contact his old, revenge-minded gang.

What follows is an old-fashioned cross-country pursuit in which the aforementioned parties are joined by the marshal responsible for Charlie's welfare (Tom Arnold) and a pair of highway patrol officers. It's an enjoyable ride, though the filmmakers push some gags close to the breaking point. Arnold's accident-prone cop, who can barely touch his gun without shooting innocent bystanders, is too clumsy by half (not to mention loud). And Bradley Cooper, as the ringleader of Charlie's old gang, seems inexplicably to be offering a variation on the ineffably strange pimp Gary Oldman played in True Romance: Dreadlocked and wearing yellow-tinted shades, he's a white boy affecting ghetto attitude and afflicted by an in-and-out Southern drawl. The performance is the most distracting, but certainly not the only, reminder of Tony Scott's 1993 chase-romance; even the soundtrack, with its echoes of Hans Zimmer's marimba, doffs its hat.

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In the most important respects, though, Hit and Run makes its lovers-on-the-lam premise its own. Shepard is as likeable as ever, believably pairing gentleness with outlaw savvy; Bell doesn't take Annie's indignation at Charlie's past so far that we hold it against her. Beau Bridges (as Charlie's estranged dad) is a standout in the supporting cast, requiring just a few minutes of screen time to lend some emotional depth to the hero's backstory.

Production Companies: Primate Pictures, Kim and Jim Productions, Panay Films
Cast: Dax Shepard, Kristen Bell, Bradley Cooper, Tom Arnold, Kristin Chenoweth, Beau Bridges, David Koechner, Joy Bryant, Ryan Hansen, Jason Bateman, Sean Hayes, Michael Rosenbaum
Directors: Dax Shepard, David Palmer
Screenwriter: Dax Shepard
Producers: Andrew Panay, Nate Tuck, Kim Waltrip, Jim Casey
Executive producer: Erica Murray
Director of photography: Bradley Stonesifer
Production designer: Emily Bloom
Music: Robert Mervak, Julian Wass
Costume designer: Brooke Dulien
Editor: Keith Croket
R, 96 minutes.

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Jennifer Lopez, Enrique Iglesias Rock the Staples Center: Concert Review

Jennifer Lopez's right knee was dripping with a touch of blood during her flashy and splashy Vegas-style show at Staples Center on Thursday night. But the diva took the little bump all in stride as she made the Los Angeles stop of the summer tour, featuring pop crooner Enrique Iglesias and R&B singer Frankie J., her own.

The Thursday night stand, which continued in L.A. for a second night on Friday before heading to Las Vegas itself and then other parts of the U.S., opened with Frankie J., the charismatic R&B singer. Iglesias, too, charmed the audience with his signature songs such as "I Like It," "Tonight" and "Hero."

Iglesias got major laughs when he invited a fan to come up and talk about his love life (or lack of it) as the two took shots of an unspecified libation. The spirit of the show was high and gained momentum with a diverse audience that included children, teens and an older set, too.

But it was clearly Lopez's night to show what she's made of as fans leaned in to take a closer look at the woman with a global following thanks to an empire she has built around music, fashion and movies. From the moment her set began, it was evident she wanted to entertain with high-energy dance moves, plenty of costume changes and the hits that have kept nightclub-goers bouncing through the years.

Many in the industry were present, too. Lopez introduced Motown founder Berry Gordy, who sat near the stage. And Colombian singer/songwriter Juanes was also nearby.

Lopez's fans saw her sashay, throw punches in a boxing ring and run in sparkly and skin-tight dance gear as she performed (in high heels, mind you) such hits as "Dance with Me" and "Follow the Leader," a collaboration with urban duo Wisin & Yandel. The latter song has seen more than 50 million hits on Vevo to date. The rappers, who earlier this year dropped out of the tour to pursue other projects, joined Lopez on stage on Thursday.

Lopez, who most recently served as a judge on "American Idol," played to her strengths by engaging the audience on everything from falling in love to being a mother. From "On The Floor" (featuring Pitbull) to "Get Right" and "Jenny from the Block," the singer/actress/dancer boldly owned the stage with a bravado that left fans restless and snapping one more photo for their Twitter and Facebook feeds.

Even though Lopez performed for about an hour, the concert packed every minute as she introduced several themes within her show -- from a 1920s-esque overture complete with dancers wearing top hats to majorly toned showgirls and their male counterparts, who grooved to a nightclub stage set-up complete with large neon pink feathered fans.

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The Punk Syndrome (Kovasikajuttu): Wroclaw Review

WROCLAW, POLAND - Unusual subject matter and strong personalities elevate Finnish fly-on-the-wall documentary The Punk Syndrome (Kovasikajuttu), observing a fractious foursome who don't let various degrees of mental disability stop them from rocking out.

The engaging debut collaboration by directing duo Jukka Krkkinen (2009's The Living Room of the Nation) and J-P Passi (that film's DP) is proving a popular pick at non-fiction and documentary festivals alike, with audiences and juries responding to its no-nonsense treatment of potentially sentimental subject matter.

Its Wroclaw prize in the well-contested Films On Art sidebar followed news that it's been picked up for U.K. distribution in November (Finnish release was May 4). Success along the lines of Sacha Gervasi's well-traveled Anvil! - The Story of Anvil (2008) is indicated, with additional interest from events focusing on disabled and human-rights subjects.

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In terms of TV, brief full-frontal male nudity and intermittent strong language might require trimming in certain territories or, preferably, late-evening slots. Bowdlerization would, of course, be entirely at odds with the much-fabled 'punk ethos' which Pertti Kurikan Nimipivt ("Pertti Kurikkas Name Day") wholeheartedly embrace.

Pertti himself is the oldest and most ornery of the four, a guitarist and occasional vocalist whose diaries feed directly into his lyrics: "I can release my anger," he notes. He has no shortage of targets for his ire, his songs making clear how much he prizes "dignity, equality and respect" - things not to be taken for granted even in a country like Finland, where provision for the mentally and physically challenged is, as we see here, at a high level.

Specific details about practical arrangements are a little vague in a film which, in classic verit style, eschews commentary and explanatory captions. It seems, however, that some if not all of the band members live in "group homes" and issues of independence and responsibility are a recurring theme.

"I think everyone has the right to make a decision about where and how they would like to live," says swaggeringly charismatic frontman Kari. "That's why I wrote a song about it. I don't want to live in a group home. I don't want to live in an institution."

The most outspoken of the four, Kari is engaged in a simmering personality-clash with bassist Sami, a squabble of unspecified origins. Its rancorous eruptions recall the similar frictions that seemingly bedevil all bands at some stage, from the Rolling Stones down.

Keeping a lower profile - but nevertheless managing to steal all of his scenes - is drummer Toni, an easy-going younger lad with Down Syndrome whose sweet nature and winning smile provide invaluable counterpoint to his more morose and spiky bandmates.

Krkkinen and Passi don't break any new formal ground with their style, following the lads as they strut their stuff on stage (including a quick trip to rainy Hamburg, in the footsteps of the Beatles), explore various extracurricular activities, and with the help of caretaker-cum-manager Kalle, work toward the release of their debut album.

Along with editor Riitta Poikselk, the directors keep the tone generally upbeat and energetic and predictably end on a high note with a triumphant music festival performance. And while the bare bones approach pays dividends, some context-setting and/or external perspectives might have been welcome - it's hard to know how well known the band is becoming in its homeland, for example, or if members have any prospects of turning what's evidently a time-consuming hobby into a potential source of revenue and thus greater independence.

As with the Anvil movie, of course, the international exposure The Punk Syndrome affords will hopefully translate to further success for the outfit. And even if their preferred meat-and-potatoes style won't be to everyone's tastes, the troupe deserve credit and admiration for their Ramones-like adherence to the basics of punk's abrasive sound and uncompromising ideals.

Venue: New Horizons Film Festival, Wrocaw, Poland
Production company: Auto Images
Directors: Jukka Krkkinen, J-P Passi
Screenwriters: Sami Jahnukainen, Jukka Krkkinen, J-P Passi
Producer: Sami Jahnukainen
Co-producers: Carsten Aanonsen, Magnus Gertten, Joakim Strand, Lennart Strm
Director of photography: J-P Passi
Editor: Riitta Poikselk
Sales agent: Autlook Filmsales, Vienna
No MPAA rating, 85 minutes.

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My Father's Bike (Mój rower): Wroclaw Review

WROCLAW, POLAND - Music is the food of family-bonding in My Father's Bike (Mj rower), a wryly comic crowdpleaser from Poland whose prickly humor and high-profile stars should ensure harmonious domestic box-office returns following its November 16 release. Abroad, festivals catering to older audiences in general and jazz-lovers in particular will want to check out this third feature from director/co-writer Piotr Trzaskalski, which landed the Best Screenplay award at Poland's national film-festival in Gdynia back in May.

Indeed, the chief selling-point internationally is the presence of Polish jazz luminary Micha Urbaniak in what's effectively his first big-screen acting assignment at the age of 69. Based in the US for nearly three decades now, the violin virtuouso played with seminal film-score composer Krzysztof Komeda's quintet in the early sixties and guested on Miles Davis' 1985 album Tutu.

Belying his acting inexperience, Urbaniak hits the just the right crotchety notes as retired jazz-performer Wodzimierz. The action begins with the old coot's exasperated wife Barbara (Anna Nehrebecka) leaving him for another man after decades of marriage, a departure which sparks a full-blown family crisis.

Wodzimierz's highly successful classical-pianist son Pawe (Artur mijewski) interrupts his globe-trotting schedule to track down his errant mother, and the ensuing road-trip sees Pawe, his father, and his semi-estranged teenage son Maciek (Krzysztof Chodorowski) face up to various issues, enmities and secrets as they gradually unwind - and explore each other's musical preferences - in Poland's scenically lake-dotted north.

Among the half-forgotten incidents of the past is one which provides the film with its title in Polish, simply 'My Bike.' In terms of international exposure, the producers may want to come up with something snappier - especially as the bicycle tale isn't especially memorable or significant.

Trzaskalski's two previous features Edi (2002) and The Master (2005) both found considerable critical acclaim, nabbing Fipresci prizes at Berlin and Miami respectively. But he's operating in a more squarely commercially-oriented mode here: directorial flourishes are few, and the main emphasis is on allowing the performers to make the most of the screenplay's nuances.

The result is an undemandingly genial little picture with a TV-type feel, and indeed its domestic prospects on all formats will be significantly enhanced by the presence of small-screen favorite mijewski. Themes of masculine emotion and inter-generational relationships among guys are sufficiently universal, however, to indicate wider appeal, especially for audiences who don't mind a touch of sentimental schmaltz.

"All that will be left of us will be what our children or grandchildren remember," counsels an elderly family-friend, helping the work-obsessed, tightly-wound Pawe to reassess his priorities and rebuild bridges before it's too late.

Trzaskalski and his co-screenwriter Wojciech Lepianka lay on the life-lessons a touch thick at times, a sudden burst of fiery melodrama heralding a final act which features an unexpected, tear-jerking death and a credibility-stretching surprise revelation, and which ultimately rivals The Return of the King in terms of its excessively multiple endings. But their recipe is always more bittersweet than cloying, ensuring that My Father's Bike provides enough ups and downs along the way to make our time in the saddle worthwhile.

Venue: New Horizons Film Festival, Wrocaw, Poland, July 22, 2012.
Production company: Federico Film
Cast: Artur mijewski, Micha Urbaniak, Krzysztof Chodorowski, Anna Nehrebecka, Witold Dbicki
Director: Piotr Trzaskalski
Screenwriters: Wojciech Lepianka, Piotr Trzaskalski
Producers: Marta Pluciska, Pawe Pluciski
Co-producer: Dariusz Gsiorowski
Director of photography: Piotr liskowski
Production designer: Wojciech ogaa
Music: Przemysaw Stangierski, Wojciech Lemaski
Costume designer: Iwona Perliska
Editor: Cezary Kowalczuk
Sales agent: TVN, Warsaw
No MPAA rating, 94 minutes

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