Review: In the Name of My Daughter

André Téchiné presents IN THE NAME OF MY DAUGHTER, a daunting crime-drama that unfolds almost coyly, drawn out but preying on the audience's anticipation.

Based on the memoirs of Renée Le Roux and her son, Jean-Charles, the story revolves around a loving family that is being destroyed by its own financial status. Renée Le Roux (Catherine Deneuve) wants to take over the Palais de la Méditerranée, a casino in which she holds shares, and her ambitious lawyer, Maurice Agnelet (Guillaume Canet), helps her sway the vote of the board to take charge. Her daughter, Agnès (Adèle Haenel) has just returned to Nice after a failed marriage, and wants to collect her inheritance and start her own business. But when Agnès and Maurice meet, Maurice's greed sways in her direction. Afterr Renée refuses to let Maurice become the managing director at the casino, Maurice focuses his attention on Agnès in revenge. Agnès quickly becomes obsessed with the man, who slowly corrupts the Le Roux family, pitting daughter against mother and manipulating Renée and Agnès' relationship for his own benefit.



The pacing is very brisk at first -- almost too brisk for the nature of the film's content -- but it relays an uneasy feeling right from the start. The cast play beautifully together: Canet masterfully lays the nuances of his character out -- to the public, he is well-behaved, but no audience will ever quite believe his likability. Haenel presents a complex account of our young protagonist, and while Catherine Deneuve could have had a stronger role -- her character only allows for brief moments straying from the flat "motherly" role -- she still somehow has your sympathy in the end.

This film will grip you until the end. IN THE NAME OF MY DAUGHTER is now playing at the Midtown Cinema -- hurry in to see it, as Monday is its last day!

Review: Love & Mercy

There will always be the belief in the world that in order to be a true artistic genius, you have to be crazy. Unfortunately, those who actually live it don't take quite as much pride in it as those who hold that belief. This is the situation in director Bill Pohlad's LOVE & MERCY. As nearly imperceptibly staged Super-16 footage ushers us into the world of the Beach Boys, pre-"Pet Sounds", expect to be lulled into the secure feeling of stardom -- only to be dropped abruptly into a car dealership and fed the words "Lonely, scared, frightened".

If that isn't a cryptic enough draw for the film, I will comment that LOVE & MERCY is not your typical biopic. In fact, for a story revolving around The Beach Boys' Brian Wilson, it really only focuses on two parts of his life: Paul Dano plays Young Brian as he records the album "Pet Sounds", and John Cusack plays Older Brian as he begins his relationship with Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks), and deals with emotional abuse from his psychiatrist, Dr. Eugene Landy (Paul Giammati). It's a fascinating back-and-forth, as these two points in life are very much connected by Brian's paranoid schizophrenia.

There aren't too many negative things to say about this movie. Dano is goofy and off-kilter, leading us through the deterioration stage with ease, and Cusack really nails Brian's fragile state. Banks is a gem, as always, though her onscreen chemistry with Cusack feels more like a relationship between a social worker and her charge and less like a couple in love. Paul Giamatti presents his own, subtle-but-horrifying version of crazy. For Older Brian's track, the story makes a clear switch to Melinda as the protagonist, given Brian's inability to take charge.

But of course, the sound work is hands down the best part of the film. The revamped music is seamless with the original works, and the rest of the soundtrack only fleshes out the inner workings of Brian Wilson's mind -- the sound, and the lack thereof, as many times snippets of dialogue are muted out. Perhaps this is to balance the voices that live inside the man's head.

For fans of the Beach Boys, this is a must-see, and for those who aren't fans, see it anyway. It's just that good. LOVE & MERCY is now playing at the Midtown Cinema!

Review: I Am Big Bird

It's a safe bet that most people have good memories about Big Bird -- the big, lovable, yellow, childlike bird instantly finds a way to connect to your heart, no matter what age you are. But not many people think about the man behind the bird -- Carol Spinney, the puppeteer who has been manning Bird Bird's (and Oscar the Grouch's) voice and body since 1969.

The film deftly paints a picture of the relationship between man and bird -- or, more accurately, how the two are one and the same. The beginning is less cohesive -- less footage from Carol's early life and time on the Bozo Show means more abstract images to fill the screen while the interviews rattle on -- but eventually his biography reaches Sesame Street, and the gaps close up. There is no shortage of footage from this point on, as you learn about Carol's difficult adjustment into the Sesame Street community and his "right hand work", then watch his career blossom as he takes over the character of Big Bird.

There's a lot in this documentary that may surprise you -- after all, not all of Carol Spinney's life is laid out for the public. It's a touching piece to commemorate a man who still can't get enough of the job -- he's had an intern waiting to fill his shoes for 15 years, but hasn't decided to quit yet. I AM BIG BIRD is now playing at the Midtown Cinema -- come get a fresh perspective on a man ingrained into everyone's childhood!

Review: Animals

Bobbie and Jude are in love. Their penchant for getting high has created an unbreakable bond -- they are family, and they provide for each other in any way they can. For the most part this involves con jobs to get enough cash for their next hit -- they steal to sell, and pull fake rendezvouses in which lonely men must pay up before their call girl delivers -- only for her to duck out the door once the money is in hand. Living out of their car and quite literally day to day, it's just the two of them -- no friends to speak of, and no one to turn to except themselves.



Directed by Colin Schiffli, ANIMALS is a vivid depiction of a couple of heroin addicts trying not to admit that they need to come clean. As you can already guess, the journey that they take is not a pretty one. The picture painted throughout the film is not only of the jolting reality of addiction, but also of the world. If all ANIMALS was about was addiction, it wouldn't have nearly been so interesting; but as Bobbie and Jude (played by Kim Shaw and David Dastmalchian) reach higher and higher points of desperation, we see other grimy layers of the world peeling back. Thankfully, there are also a few refreshing layers: those involving love, and genuinely helpful people, and glimpses of hope in a dismal situation.

ANIMALS is semi-autobiographical -- Dastmalchian, who plays Jude, wrote the screenplay based on experiences he had with his own addiction. And while the film leads to a poignant ending, it is not necessarily the heavy-handed PSA ending that you would expect. This may be a bit of a spoiler, so I'll keep it vague: the sense of hope is what separates ANIMALS from other stories of addiction -- not because that specific ending is common for addicts, but because it is uncommon. This shift in expectation was a relief; because while their story is about addiction, it is first and foremost about how they deal with addiction -- and with each other. This is a relational story, first and foremost, and that is what makes it so engaging.

Schiffli does a great job of drawing you into the couple's relationship, so that you feel the emotions they feel every step of the way. And the onscreen chemistry between Dstmalchian and Shaw is unquestionable. ANIMALS is now playing at the Midtown Cinema... be sure not to miss it.