“Films worth freezing for,” the festival’s tagline claims. Is this true, or would you be better off staying warm? Read on for a peek at nine random selections from AIFF 2009.
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Circus Rosaire (2007)
(Sat 12/5, 3:15 p.m., Alaska Experience, and Fri 12/11, 8:15 p.m., Anchorage Museum)
That old childhood pledge to run away and join the circus wouldn’t have been considered too much of a threat in the Rosaire family, which boasts nine generations of entertainers, from court jesters to circus performers. But in these days of cutthroat commerce and animal activism, “Circus isn’t what it used to be,” and director Robyn Billey’s loving, bittersweet documentary spends time with octogenarian patriarch Derrick Rosaire and his five grown children as they honor their family’s noble tradition while trying to find a way to stay both relevant and fed.
The hard-working Rosaire kids include the larger-than-life Pamela, who has the last traveling chimpanzee act in the country; Kay, a lion trainer despite being allergic to cats; and Derrick, Jr., a taskmaster to his two sons, all of whom exhibit uncanny resemblances to the bears they train. Shot over a five-year period, Circus Rosaire observesthe boisterously tight-knit Rosaires as they go about their daily routines of training animals and busting balls, pausing briefly to allow the detractors to be heard with their accusations of animal cruelty. PETA notwithstanding, however, much of the Rosaires’ Florida acreage is devoted to sanctuary for older animals, and you really do come away from this optimistic film with the feeling that all the creatures are “an extension of the family.”
About Face: The Story of Gwendellin Bradshaw (2009)
(Sat 12/5, 8 p.m., Anchorage Museum)
You almost don’t notice Gwen Bradshaw’s scars at first; what catches your eye initially is her wide, warm smile full of adorable Chiclet-y teeth. But in 1980, when she was just ten months old, Gwen Bradshaw’s mother threw her on a campfire, the obvious physical damage paling in comparison to the emotional demons that continue to plague Gwen well into her mid 20s. About Face isn’t about a victim, however; director Mary Rosanne Katzke has fashioned an honest and hopeful portrait of a true survivor, dropping in on Gwen over a handful of years as she tries to move forward by coming to terms with her at times harrowing past.
About Face doesn’t flinch from Gwen’s darker moments; in fact, as the film opens, Gwen is discussing her recent suicide attempt, and we learn about her efforts to dull the trauma via drugs and sex. And though there are joyful bumps in the road to self-acceptance, like connecting with her half-sister and expressing herself through her music, the bulk of About Face concerns itself with Gwen’s dogged determination to locate her elusive mother, now a diagnosed schizophrenic who we’re not actually sure is keen to be found. “I just want an explanation,” Gwen says. And does she get it? I’m not telling. But it soon becomes clear, to both us and our enchanting heroine, that there is much satisfaction and healing to be had in her cross-country search, regardless of what might be considered its ultimate success.
ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction (2009)
(Sat 12/5, 10 p.m., Bear Tooth TheatrePub)
Confessing anything to your potentially disapproving parents is scary enough, but coming out to your mom as she’s trying to bite your face off is... well, it’s actually rather funny. (“Okay; she did NOT just eat her own eyeball!”) The debut film from writer-director Kevin Hamedani, ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction is a goofy, ultra-gruesome horror comedy that puts the “gory” in “allegory.” Taking place on an island off the coast of Washington State, ZMD introduces us to various members of the community, including an Iranian-American college student, an enthusiastic mayoral candidate, and a gay couple visiting from New York City, before feeding a few of them to the undead currently lumbering through the neighborhood.
Some believe the recent zombie influx is the result of a terrorist act, which leads to an oddly protracted scene of torture, while others figure that as long as the gays are hiding out in the church, why not straighten them out in the name of “history’s greatest zombie: Jesus Christ”? With necessary nods to Romero and Raimi, Hamedani breathes new life into the well-worn genre by couching his zombie paranoia in religious zealotry, homophobia and extreme patriotism. These colors may not bleed, but in ZMD, everything else sure as hell does.
In the Company of Moose (2009)
(Sun 12/6, 3 p.m., Bear Tooth TheatrePub , and Thu 12/10, 5:45 p.m., Alaska Experience)
Vic VanBallenberghe is a wildlife biologist and nature photographer who has devoted the last 30 years to studying the moose living in Denali National Park and Preserve. His filmmaker son Jonathan thought his father’s work would make for an interesting movie, but as with many film projects by a child about their parent, like Tell Them Who You Are or Abel Raises Cain, it also gave Jonathan the opportunity to more thoroughly understand the man that he only saw every couple of years as he was being raised by his mother.
Sharing its title with a collection of photos that Vic published a few years back, In the Company of Moose is a beautifully shot insider’s view of the moose and its seasonal habits, made possible by Vic’s passionate knowledge of the subject. The filmstrippy narration is a little underwhelming, but whether it’s a wobbly newborn finding its footing or a big bull toting 75 pounds of velvety antlers, Jonathan’s camera is right there, the moose often more accommodating than his occasionally prickly father.
Birthday (2009)
(Mon 12/7, 5:30 p.m., and Sat 12/12, 10:15 p.m., Bear Tooth TheatrePub)
There are actually two characters marking the anniversaries of their births in Australian writer-director James Harkness’ ensemble drama revolving around the comings and goings at an Adelaide brothel. One is a prostitute called M (the silent-film-faced Natalie Eleftheriadis), world-weary despite her 25 years; while the other is Joey (Richard Wilson, who played the youngest brother in John Hillcoat’s mesmerizing The Proposition), an awkward, melancholy young man isolated by bitterness and fear. Birthday observes these two over the course of one evening, along with a few of the other lonely souls that happen to cross their paths.
Originally a play by Harkness, Birthday may have benefited from a director less attached to the source material; its stage origins are frustratingly obvious in the film’s stuttered pacing and penchant for soliloquy. But Birthday boasts luscious production design and decent performances, the only falsely melodramatic note struck by the cocaine-loving single mother. Most fascinating is M’s meeting of the minds (and of the bodies) with Travis McMahon’s Father Phillip, a priest who has lost his faith. Their theological discussions help to demonstrate M’s sharp wit, a shorthand way of letting us know that M is destined for better things.
Prodigal Sons (2008)
(Mon 12/7, 8 p.m., and Sat 12/12, 1 p.m., Alaska Experience)
Kimberly Reed knew she would have great fuel for a documentary when she left New York City to return home after 20 years—camera in one hand, girlfriend in the other—to chronicle both her reunion with her family as well as the one with her classmates. Helena, Montana, had known Kim as Paul, a star quarterback. And though her mother seems to have unconditionally accepted her new daughter, Kim’s adopted brother Marc—struggling, with the help of medication, to control the lasting repercussions of the head injury he received in a car accident—isn’t quite as welcoming.
What Kim could not have foreseen is that during the course of filming Marc would find out that his biological grandparents are Hollywood legends Orson Welles and Rita Hayworth. It’s at this point that the gripping Prodigal Sons becomes as much about Marc as it is Kim, Marc’s long-buried resentments combining with his brain damage to violent effect. Marc prefers to remember his halcyon high-school days, while Kim has no desire to acknowledge her former life as a male, but each must reconcile their pasts, both separate and shared, as a way of coming to terms with their new identities.
Son of the Sunshine (2009)
(Tue 12/8, 8 p.m., and Fri 12/11, 5:30 p.m., Bear Tooth TheatrePub)
After grainy, wistful opening credits evoking carefree childhood times, Canadian director Ryan Ward jolts us from our reverie with a jarring shot of someone falling from a bridge. Ward then takes his sweet time in parceling out just what happened, even though it’s immediately clear that the present is obviously still reeling from the sins of the past. Sonny, played by Ward, suffers from Tourette’s Syndrome, and as Son of the Sunshine begins, Sonny is preparing for experimental surgery that should alleviate his symptoms, though we will learn that his recovery came with a price.
Secrets, lies, redemption, and just a smattering of incest: Ward hits all the typical indie notes in his feature-length debut, and it’s a credit to his moviemaking prowess that he’s able to get away with a mystical twist that might completely derail a lesser film. Less effective is the film’s central relationship, with Rebecca McMahon allowed to lay it on a bit thick as Sonny’s damaged banshee girlfriend Arielle. But this is Ward’s calling card; besides starring and directing, he also co-wrote the script with Matthew Heiti, and his gifted eye for visuals—specifically shooting during that golden, rosy time of day cinematographers like to call the “magic hour”—brings to mind the films of David Gordon Green and Terrence Malick before him.
Girls on the Wall (2009)
(Tue 12/8, 8 p.m., Alaska Experience, and Sat 12/12, 3:15 p.m., Anchorage Museum)
First some sobering statistics about the rate of recidivism among the teenage girls housed at the Illinois Youth Center in Warrenville, then a title card informing us that the powers-that-be will try anything to break the cycle of crime and punishment: “Even a musical.” And we’re not talking Grease here; under the guidance of an enthusiastic mentor known as Ms. P, the young women in the “Fabulous Females” program offered up their own intensely personal stories and allowed them to be put into both script and song. Director Heather Ross captured this seven-month process with her camera, resulting in the rousing documentary Girls on the Wall, which paints an unforgettable portrait detailing the empowerment to be found in self-expression.
As with most potent documentaries, Girls on the Wall makes its story even more resonant by narrowing its initially broad focus to three teens. We meet Rosa, an angry but savvy young woman threatening to become another statistic. And there’s Christina, the daughter of a crack addict hoping to make the most of her second chance with a well-off Christian family. But the unlikely star here is Whitney, initially sarcastic and sullen (she refuses to talk about the horrible crime that landed her in Warrenville) until she begins to open up thanks to the simple happiness of feeling understood. Girls on the Wall follows their struggles, setbacks, and triumphs, all culminating in a minor miracle of a musical. It’s easily the best of the films I got to preview for AIFF and one of the more stirring works you will see all year.
As with most potent documentaries, Girls on the Wall makes its story even more resonant by narrowing its initially broad focus to three teens. We meet Rosa, an angry but savvy young woman threatening to become another statistic. And there’s Christina, the daughter of a crack addict hoping to make the most of her second chance with a well-off Christian family. But the unlikely star here is Whitney, initially sarcastic and sullen (she refuses to talk about the horrible crime that landed her in Warrenville) until she begins to open up thanks to the simple happiness of feeling understood. Girls on the Wall follows their struggles, setbacks, and triumphs, all culminating in a minor miracle of a musical. It’s easily the best of the films I got to preview for AIFF and one of the more stirring works you will see all year.
Patsy (2008)
(Thu 12/10, 5:30 p.m., Bear Tooth TheatrePub , and Sat 12/12, 9:30 p.m., Alaska Experience)
Patsy, as you know, is a proper name, but for purposes of our discussion, assume that it takes on the other meaning, that of a person who is easily taken advantage of, especially by being cheated or blamed for something. It could be referring our alleged hero here, Lenny Rose (Brent Golov), or it could be referring to you if you decide to pony up your dough for this embarrassingly dull Donnie Darko wannabe. Patsy seems to be trying to relate the warped comic reality of a schizophrenic clothing store owner who decides to go off his medication, then meets a femme fatale (Christine Lakin) who gets him involved in... um... something.
With his heavy eyelids and grating monotone, Golov’s Rose lurches through Patsy in a state of somnolence that’s supposed to indicate the absence of meds but instead translates to our drowsiness as well, and writer-director Anton Jarvis loses us right out of the gate. Forgetting the convoluted and badly acted story that centers around a mysterious black box, government agents, and a menacing, tall dude—seriously, put it right out of your mind—Jarvis’ handling of women is completely insulting, all of his female characters oversexed and downright cartoony. Michael Deluise tries his best Harpo Marx until it’s time to say something intended to be wise, and of course there’s a third-act explanation by a guy with a gun. On the plus side, Patsy does afford an opportunity to watch the great character actor Reg E. Cathey at work, though you could just rent HBO’s infinitely superior OZ or The Wire instead.
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