PBS has announced their upcoming POV lineup, including the much buzzed about The Ballad of Esequiel Hernández and other docs that provide a raw look at the world's chaos.
POV is a fantastic documentary series that nabs great filmmakers and puts their work on your TV. That's right -- your TV. For free (well, unless you'd be so kind as to make a donation to your local PBS station).
And it's wonderfully interactive. POV doesn't just want to start the conversation, they want to continue to be involved. They encourage feedback and provide teacher's guides.
Want a taste? Check out a few from last year's line up: Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars, Rain in a Dry Land and 49 Up.
I admit it. I'm enamored with Werner Herzog; there's no rhyme or reason. He gets dirt under his nails as he's going against the grain, and he has no regard for classic filmmaking style. What good is a documentary if you can't manipulate it? What good is a cast if you can't hypnotize them? Thus said the Book of Herzog.
His latest effort finds him tackling the off-the-cuff and off-the-radar hit, Bad Lieutenant. Swap Keitel for Nic Cage, keep the grit, add Herzog. Nothing's surprising.
But wait, there's more. Herzog is hookin' up with the king of deliciously nonsensical nightmares, David Lynch, to create My Son, My Son, "a horror-tinged murder drama based on a true story." Well now, that just makes sense.
Turn up the dial, it's time for Fahrenheit 9/11: The Bush Legacy. Michael Moore is set to crank out a 2009 follow-up to the doc that rocked the White House.
Hopefully this time we'll be able to view his commentary a few steps farther from tyranny.
Check out the teaser for the upcoming film Tôkyô! by three non-Japanese directors: Michel Gondry (Be Kind Rewind), Bong Joon Ho (The Host) & Leos Carax.
OK, the teaser tells us nothing, but I'm still strapping in for a good time.
(If anyone knows how to cheat & translate the page...)
Do you remember when the world was fused as one? Hopefully not, but today you can experience that feeling as the globe becomes united by film for Pangea Day.
Broadcast in seven languages over as many continents (well, almost), movies provide a connection. Give -- watch -- be happy.
Warner Bros. has put the locks on Picturehouse and Warner Independent Pictures.
The "specialty" divisions have presented great films such as Picturehouse's La Vie en Rose, Pan's Labyrinth and the upcoming Mongol, and WIP's The Painted Veil, A Very Long Engagement and Paradise Now.
Good riddance. Mindless schlock is where it's at.
Turner Classic Movies (TCM) digs deep into the vault with their Lost and Found series, dedicated to presenting restorations of films which represent important stepping stones in cinematic history.
On April 27, the series recognizes Abel Gance, the French director who inspired generations of filmmakers. An innovator of unquestionable talent, his mechanics and editing techniques were revolutionary in the early 1900s and almost shocking when rediscovered in the 1950s.
The tribute begins with the 1968 documentary, Abel Gance: The Charm of Dynamite, directed by Kevin Brownlow, the film historian who would restore Gance's masterpiece, Napoléon, in 1981. By reviewing the impressive use of rapid cutting, split screens and multiple screens (why use one screen when you can use three, as displayed by his triptych predecessor to American CinemaScope), his drive for perfection was matched only by his inventive resourcefulness.
The documentary samples original clips of the silent films J'accuse and La Roue, which make Sunday's world premiere of the digital restorations of both films all the more striking.
When Gance was sent to the army, they did not know what to do with the playwright and ultimately gave him the assignment of documenting World War I on film. After numerous friends died on the war front, Gance boldly chose to emphasize the folly of war in the 1919 film, J'accuse (I Accuse). He prophetically used actual French and American soldiers to portray a March of the Dead, 80 percent of whom he claimed ultimately perished in the war.
Nearly 90 years later the film looks clear and beautiful – a testament not only to the work of the Parisian Lobster Film Studios and the Netherlands Filmmuseum for their digital restoration but also to Gance himself. Subtly utilizing tricks that may seem simple now, such as overlapping frames to create ghostly characters and dancing skeletons (preceding Jason and the Argonauts by 44 years), the techniques never distract from the story. Gance carefully unfolds the love triangle enveloped by war in three parts over as many hours and packs an anti-war punch in the process as families lose fathers and husbands and those who survive are dramatically changed by the process.
Gance's 1923 film, La Roue (The Wheel), was inspired by the lost love of his life, and the filming schedule was dependent on time not spent caring for his sick sweetheart. Set the DVR, because this film (also restored by Lobster Film Studios) clocks in at four hours, but like the former film the tragic love story is worth the time taken to appreciate it.
TCM presents an era in film history that should not be forgotten and a rare chance to witness the early steps in creative cinema that are anything but amateur.
