IFJA welcomes Nick Rogers

The Indiana Film Journalists Association is pleased to announce the induction of our newest member, Nick Rogers of Lafayette.

Nick writes for Suite101.com and has also agreed to start contributing to The Film Yap. Prior to that, he wrote reviews for the Springfield, Ill., newspaper and was a member of the St. Louis area film critics' group.

This brings our membership tally to nine.

The IFJA was formed in early 2009 to promote quality film criticism in the Hoosier State. Our primary goals are to lobby for additional screenings, and give out annual awards for the best movies and filmmakers at the end of the year, much as other critic groups do.

You can read some of Nick's work by clicking here.

Welcome Nick!

Reeling Backward: "The Hunchback of Notre Dame"

I was actually slightly disappointed by "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." Yes, it features Charles Laughton in the title role of Quasimodo, and he's an actor I knew only through his later roles and am relishing discovering his vibrant work as a young man. And yes, the production values, particularly for 1939, are simply astonishing. The crowd scenes in the square involve hundreds of extras, costumes, stunts and huge, intricate sets. It also features Maureen O'Hara as Esmeralda in her first starring role, absolutely ravishing even at age 19.

Still, the movie contains too much of the stilted, overly theatrical style of acting that dominated many early films. The majority of thespians still got their start on the stage in those days, and the tendency to over-emote and over-enunciate dialogue makes you feel like you're sitting in the back row, and the actor is straining to make himself heard by you.

In particular, the performance of Edmond O'Brien as the poet Gringoire irked me whenever he came on the screen. Alan Marshal as Phoebus, the captain of the guard, also falls into this trap, although with much less screen time, he has fewer opportunities to annoy.

Cedric Hardwicke also makes for a less-than-daunting Frollo, the twisted chief justice who is the hunchback's protector as well as tormentor. When Frollo falls for the gypsy girl Esmeralda, despite the fact that she represents everything he hates about freedom and tolerance, it should burn him from the inside out. But I found Hardwicke rather passive and dour, and certainly not frightening.

Of course, Laughton is a revelation as the hunchback. The special make-up is passable even by modern standards, and must've looked quite convincing 70 years ago. There's a short bit where Quasimodo, perhaps unintentionally, covers up the deformed parts of his face with his hands, and we see the handsome and gregarious man he could have been.

Interesting aside -- I've always heard the character's name pronounced as "quah-zee-mo-do," but in this movie the call him "kaz-ee-modo," with the first syllable rhyming with "spaz." Curious to know what is correct.

Victor Hugo's novel has seen many film versions. Laughton was reportedly daunted at the task of playing the character Lon Chaney made famous in the 1923 silent version. Anthony Quinn also tackled the role in a 1956 Italian version, Anthony Hopkins did so in a 1982 TV special, and of course Disney made an animated musical in 1996 with a terrific Frollo voiced by Tony Jay. And there have been numerous other versions here and there.

When one steps back and examines the story from a post-feminist perspective, it begins to look rather discomfiting. Basically, every major male character in the movie falls in love with Esmeralda, and is in some way changed and even damaged by his ardor.

Phoebus sees her as a figure of conquest, and pays for it with his life. Gringoire the poet sees her as the literary counterpart to complete his own romanticized image of himself, and is crushed when she rejects him as a lover. Frollo, of course, hates her for dredging up feelings of desire he thought did not exist in him. He ends up at the conclusion of many a cinematic villain, "If I can't have her, then no man shall!"

Even Quasimodo's affection for Esmeralda is not pure. Although he clearly believes that there can be no romance between them, he still dotes on her like a friendly puppy. The man has hope.

At one point, Quasimodo kills scores of rogues attacking the Cathedral of Notre Dame by pitching stones and pouring molten metal from the high spires. He does so not out of any ideal about the right of sanctuary, one suspects, but simply to prevent others from taking the girl away from him. In his rage he also slays Clopin, the beggar king played by Thomas Mitchell, one of the great character actors of mid-20th century film.

I'd been meaning to see "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" for years, which perhaps raised my expectations to an unachievable level. It's a fine film, of course, completely worthy of a rental or catching on TV. Alas, for great expectations that fall short.

3 stars

Cathing up with "The Invention of Lying"

The concept of "The Invention of Lying" is a great one for a dopey comedy, but star Ricky Gervais -- who also co-wrote and co-directed the film with Matthew Robinson -- is a little more ambitious.

In the movie's world, people always tell the truth. It's not that they choose to refrain from lying: They're actually physically incapable of it. Except for one guy, who stumbles across the power of saying "something that wasn't" -- that's the only way he can describe it, since there's no word for lying, and not even one for truth, since everyone assumes that everything everyone says is.

Not only that, but they actually volunteer the truth at every meeting. So for example, when chubby, homely Mark (Gervais) goes on a date with Anna (Jennifer Garner), it's immediately clear to all parties involved that she's way out of his league. The waiter at the restaurant they go to even says so. Anna also lets Mark know that she was masturbating right before he showed up at her door.

Now, you might think it strange that people who cannot lie would not at least refrain from always telling the truth -- even when it's unwelcome, unpleasant or hurtful to the person they're telling it to. But in the film's world, lies of omission are apparently just as damaging. So Mark's interactions are a ceaselessly funny string of scenes in which people put him down, call him and loser and insult him.

"Lying" has a host of cameos by big stars, such as Tina Fey as Mark's secretary, who greets him by telling him how overqualified she is for her job, and that she'll be spending her morning looking for another one on Craigslist. She's also told everyone who calls him not to leave a message, since he's about to get fired. About this, she is absolutely telling the truth.

Mark's occupation is a movie screenwriter. But in a world where no lies exist -- and therefore, no fiction -- films consist of narrative recitations of actual history. Since Mark was assigned the 14th century, which basically consisted of a lot of dreariness and Black Plague, his movies do poorly.

After his boss fires him, Mark is about to evicted from his apartment. He goes to the bank to pull his savings out to rent a truck for his stuff, but the computers are down so the teller just asks him how much money was in his account. Some weird synapse fires in his brain, and he tells her a larger number than he actually had. Unthinkingly, she gives him the money -- even when the computers snap back on -- because she assumes the system was in error.

Things go from there. When Mark is driving with his best friend, who is absolutely plastered, he's able to prevent a policeman from arresting them by simply stating that his friend is not drunk. The cop immediately apologizes and goes on his way.

Things get hairy when Mark tells his dying mother that she won't go into nothingness, but to a wonderful place where everyone she loves is there, and they all have mansions, and everything's great -- in other words, heaven. It cheers Mom up before she croaks, but the doctors and nurses listening hear about it, too, and demand to know more.

Before long, hordes of people have descended on Mark's house and want to know more about this wonderful afterlife. Pressed, he writes a series of 10 rules on pizza boxes, which include the knowledge that an old man living in the clouds controls everything, and decides who goes to the happy place and who doesn't.

Now you see why this movie didn't get much of a promotional campaign -- because this dopey little comedy is actually a sly satire about religion. The hook, of course, is that religion could not exist in a world where truth reigns; the first prophet is also the first liar.

Mark remains unhappy, though, because Anna refuses to get romantically involved with him because he's physically unattractive. He's made himself rich and famous using his gift of lying, but in a world where everyone tells the truth, she only wants to mate with someone as beautiful as her. She doesn't want "little fat kids with snub noses," is how she bluntly puts it.

At this point, the movie also offers clever insight into the world of reproduction. Ironically, people who cannot lie end up making poor decisions about their mates because they're incapable of looking at anything but the obvious exterior.

"The Invention of Lying" is a funny movie, but its true charms lie beneath the surface.

3 stars

New this week

Things are really getting busy around here on the Captain's deck.

Over at The Film Yap, we're gearing up for Heartland Film Festival coverage. I've also scored another freelance assignment that I'll have to devote a lot of attention to over the next few weeks.

Nonetheless, I'm going to try to maintain the usual full slate here.

This week I'll have reviews of "Couples' Retreat," "The Boys Are Back" and "It Might Get Loud."

The video review will be "My Life in Ruins."

For Reeling Backward columns, I'll have "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" from 1939 and "Kagemusha."

UPDATE: "It Might Get Loud" is getting pushed back to next week.

Fog chiller-ama!!

Reeling Backward: Berlin Spy Sagas

I'm trying something a little different here for the classic film review -- I'll be comparing two Cold War spy films set in post-WWII Berlin. The films are "The Man Between" from 1953 and 1965's "The Spy Who Came in from the Cold."

Both movies feature a protagonist who's cynical and world-weary, yet finds a way to do the right thing. They both end with thrilling climaxes at the East/West Germany border. And both star Claire Bloom.

"Spy" was directed by Martin Ritt from the novel by John le Carre; "Man" was directed by Carol Reed, best known for "The Third Man," which covered similar ground.

Richard Burton played the "Spy," while James Mason was the "Man." Both men's characters carefully cultivate a sense of self-loathing, which in each case is pierced by their relationship with the Claire Bloom character. She plays the innocent, or at least naive, woman who falls for a man knowing full well he is rife with faults.

In "Spy," Bloom plays Nan, an English member of the Communist Party. She works in a library and quietly agitates for her beliefs. Then one day Alec Leamas (Burton) comes to work as an assistant librarian. He's approaching middle age, a disgraced spy, and a drunk. Little does she know that this is a carefully orchestrated ruse to make the East Germans think he is a turncoat.

After Leamas goes over the wall -- in this case, the Berlin Wall -- he is quickly caught in a bit of subterfuge between his Marxist counterparts. There's a battle of wills between the number two spymaster, Fiedler, and his boss, Mundt. Leamas has been sent over to discredit Mundt, but when Nan is brought in as a witness, she unwittingly becomes a pawn in a complex game of spy intrigue.

"Man" is set earlier, in the days before the Berlin Wall was built. But the border is no less forbidding. Still, Susanne (Bloom), a young English girl visiting her brother and his German wife, finds that she can cross over to the East German side without too much trouble. There she meets Ivo Kern (Mason), a shadowy charmer who has some nefarious hold over Susanne's sister-in-law.

In short order she learns that Ivo is the man working both sides against each other, with his own skin his primary concern. In a thrilling extended chase sequence that occupies the last 45 minutes or so, Ivo and Susanne are caught on the wrong side of the border with all the Communists on the lookout for them. It's during these scenes, where Ivo repeatedly attempts to dissuade Susanne from any amorous feelings toward him, that we see what's really in his heart.

Both films are shot in grim black-and-white that lends a gritty, cinema verite feeling. It's interesting how in "Man" there is Communist propaganda all around, especially images of Joseph Stalin, while in "Cold" the backgrounds are drab and cramped, without ornamentation.

Each films ends with a showdown during an attempted border crossing, as Bloom and her paramours attempt to flee back over to the West German side. I don't think I'm spoiling anything when I say they both end in tragedy.

This is the third Claire Bloom film I've featured recently in this space -- she played Hera in "Clash of the Titans" -- and I must say I've enjoyed discovering her as an actress. She's had a long and productive career, and at age 78 she's still going with regular television appearances.

She had her first major role the year before "Man," playing the ingenue who steals Charlie Chaplin's heart in "Limelight," his last movie -- well, his last good movie, anyway. I'll be keeping an eye out for more of her work.

Both films: 3.5 stars

(Programming note: I couldn't find a trailer or a current DVD available for "The Man Between.")

Review: "Whip It"

I know some roller derby chicks, and can testify to the girl-power jolt that fuels the resurgence of the cheesy 1970s sport. In its modern punk incarnation of ripped fishnet stockings, mascara applied with a trowel and tattooed gals who celebrate a really gnarly bruise, it's all about elbowing aside all of society's rigid hang-ups about what nice girls do -- and don't do.

That's what I was hoping for from "Whip It," the new roller derby flick starring Ellen Page from "Juno" and marking the directorial debut of Drew Barrymore (who also has a small role). There's some of that brash energy, and the action in the rink is enjoyably rough-and-tumble.

But something about the movie, which was written by Shauna Cross and based on her book "Derby Girl," left me wanting more.

Perhaps it's the fact that roller derby phenom is stitched onto the back of the overly familiar coming-of-age teen movie, with all the predictable tropes.

Page plays Bliss, who enters beauty pageants to satisfy her mother's (Marcia Gay Harden) Doris Day concept of womanhood, but secretly favors combat boots. Daniel Stern breathes a little life into the dad role, but it's the same-old portrayal of a decent but emotionally absent father figure.

When Bliss catches sight of some derby girls, she determines to travel from her sleepy town of Bodeen, Texas, to nearby Austin to catch the show. She's encouraged to try out for the team, and despite her tiny size she turns out to be fast and nimble on her skates.

One of the most fun things about roller derby is the comically violent or risqué skate names the women gives themselves and their teams. The Hurl Scouts (told you) includes Maggie Mayhem (Kristen Wiig), Rosa Sparks (Eve) and Smashley Simpson (Barrymore). Bliss herself is rechristened Babe Ruthless.

(Some real-life players in my backyard include Jane Ire, Trauma-lina and Smackie Onassis.)

The heavies are the Holy Rollers, led by Iron Maven (Juliette Lewis, in full sneer mode). The Hurl Scouts are the league doormats, but when the girls add Ruthless to the roster and start listening to their hapless coach, they move up the ladder.

About two-thirds of the way through, the movie enters a dark and angsty phase that feels obligatory -- it subtracts, rather than adds anything to the film.

Bliss/Ruthless has hooked up with a hipster guitar player (Landon Pigg) who disappears on tour, her parents find out the high-schooler has been lying about all the late nights, and her best friend Pash (Alia Shawkat, one to watch) becomes P.O.'d at her for no good reason.

It's all meant to set up the triumphant showdown on the rink, with mom and dad learning to bask in their daughter's crazy new obsession.

I feel like I've spent this whole review dumping on "Whip It," when actually I quite liked it. It's fun, it celebrates rebellion -- at least the kind unlikely to result in anything worse than a sprained ankle or a busted nose -- and it's all about girls realizing their own power.

Floor burns beat a tiara any day.

3 stars