Big Screen Little Screen

So Ted Zee already left on a jet plane, and a few of the YESORNODC crew are headed to the shore this weekend, all of which got me to thinking about movies of movement: the good, the bad, and the inscrutable. Too many films belong to the first category to even begin to exhaust the list here; every time you think of one (Easy Rider, easily), you remember another (Y tu mamá también!) and another (Midnight Run!) and another (Broken Flowers!). The bad’s a bit easier– avoid anything made in the past decade with the phrase “road trip” actually in the title, for starters. The inscrutable? We’ll leave those up to Vincent Gallo.

You can decide which of the aforementioned categories to add Jacques Tati’s Trafic (1971) to when Criterion releases it–along with plenty of extra goodness, natch– on July 15th. Monsieur Hulot’s live action swan song finds Tati’s alter ego bumbling his way from Paris to an auto show in Amsterdam; hijinks, as always, ensue. Heretofore, Trafic was only legally available across the Atlantic on PAL, but possibly with good reason… It’s more than a little sad to see Play Time’s protagonist holed up in a drab Parisian automotive factory at the outset of Trafic, all the pomp and circumstance of the previous film’s brilliant traffic circle-cum-carnival denouement reduced to a palette of pallid grays and greens.

Those left someone disenchanted by Trafic, however, need not fret. Sylvain Chomet– he of Les Triplettes de Belleville fame– will resurrect Hulot, albeit in animated form, in next year’s L’Illusionniste, from an unproduced script by Tati. This time around, struggling magician Hulot takes his act on the road from the Hebrides to– of all places– Edinburgh (Chomet’s Django Films is based in Auld Reekie). More info over at Scotland on Sunday.

Indulge Kyle further at YESORNODC.COM.

So this weekend Wes Anderson’s new film, The Darjeeling Limited, opens at the New York Film Festival, and his 13 minute short film, Hotel Chevalier, is now available for free on iTunes. Lots of chatter about the reception for the new feature and over Natalie Portman baring flesh in Chevalier, but for me this is the most welcome piece of news: Bottle Rocket (1996) is finally getting its due place amongst his following films in The Criterion Collection.

As Anderson told MTV News, “We’ve just begun work with the Criterion Collection to do ‘Bottle Rocket’ on a new DVD that’s going to have all kinds of stuff. There’s a lot of ‘Bottle Rocket’ that was on the cutting room floor, so we have a lot to work with on that one.”

Bottle Rocket will always go down for me as Wes Anderson’s most important film to date. Unfettered by the aesthetics which would become his calling card, and paired with co-writer and then first-time screen actor Owen Wilson, their first film would arguably go on to shape the American indie landscape in this decade as much as Pulp Fiction did in the 1990’s. Simple is good. Bottle Rocket is sublime.

Video: Bottle Rocket (1994) - The original 13-minute short film.

If you leave SNL for a show based on SNL, where do you go from there? Tina Fey may ask herself the same question if her ship-jumping creation doesn’t pan out. Featuring Alec Baldwin, (coincidentally one of the most featured guest hosts in SNL history), as well as Tracy Morgan, whose tip of the hat to a Martin Lawrence highway freak out is well alone worth a peek on a Wednesday night.

What clueless schmuck wrote this stuff? I did, a year ago.

Much has changed since then - that other series about a sketch comedy show, the one whose every ham-fisted diatribe and Nicholas Cage impression was dealt out with such self-importance, as if the Studio 60 gang were the crew of Apollo 11 (turned out to resemble the crew of the Enola Gay much more) - that one, it’s dead and buried.

What remains is not just the better fake-SNL, but the best new show of the year, giving The Office a network-sibling rival for best broadcast comedy.

While her stint as a head-writer on SNL was seen by many as just a segment of a long span of mostly forgettable years, something about the not-quite-new environs of the 30 Rock set was fortuitous for Tina Fey. She had the backing of Lorne Michaels, with his decades of Rolodexed stars to call on for guest spots (Paul Reubens, Will Arnett, Rip Torn, Emily Mortimer, Issabella freaking Rossellini, Edie Falco for season 2), and a hall of famer SNL guest turned daily contributer, in Alec Baldwin. There’s also the on-demand bug-outs we’ve come to expect from Tracy Morgan (at the onset of the series, Fey told him “I want you to fly over the cuckoo’s nest every episode.”)

Take those factors, add the out-of-nowhere revelation that is slack-jawed NBC page Kenneth (played by Jack McBrayer), and the evolved on-screen self-confidence that Fey herself has discovered over the course of the season, and you’re champagne sipping at the Emmy’s, sitting on 10 nominations.

The 30 Rock season 1 DVD, out now, features some choice, Kenneth-heavy special features:

– Selected episode commentaries from Tina Fey, Alec Baldwin, Lorne Michaels, and Jack McBrayer.
– “An Evening with Kenneth” - Mini talk-show segments with cast interviews, hosted by Kenneth.
– Deleteds, Gag Reel, all the regular trimmings.

Season two debuts on October 4th.

It’s impossible to follow American independent film over the past 15 years or so and not have built up a healthy level of familiarity with Parker Posey, an actress who over the years - as a Party Girl, a Jackie O. poseur, an obsessed dog exhibitor - to her detriment, has been firmly pigeonholed as a bit of a sideshow. There’s often a metaphorical donning of the clown shoes and makeup when Parker is asked to turn in a performance. Very few simmering moments - it’s almost always “On”, rarely moody, even less frequently muted.

She’s nothing if not a prolific actress. Does she suffer from a lack of selectivity when it comes to roles? Or from having too many friends in the business to appease? Who was talking in her ear when there was an option to not skinny dip with Danny DeVito in a lagoon pool?

And then there’s Broken English, written and directed by first-timer Zoe Cassavetes. Parker headlines as Nora, a guest services director in a posh Manhattan hotel. She’s at the period where single friends become married friends. She’s stuck in the background, feeling the pressure to settle down - maybe not because it’s something she needs, but something that feels age appropriate. There’s a string of dead-end dates, one being a standout turn from Justin Theroux, who as a mohawked, self-absorbed movie star, does much of the heavy lifting to deliver the film’s funniest sequences . Though this has been tagged a romantic comedy, it should be noted there are darker moments here. There’s vulnerability and desperation that you’d not be inclined to expect from your star. Drea de Matteo chimes in advice as Nora’s closest married friend, as does Gena Rowlands (Cassavetes mother, just one half of her oft noted lineage) as Nora’s mother. Enter Julien (Melvil Poupaud), a sweet-talking Frenchman visiting the States for a short time, long enough to almost sweep the habitually skeptic Nora off her feet. Once he heads back to France, Nora comes to the conclusion that he has some of whatever it is that she’s been looking for, and the chase is on.

While critics have generally been handing out satisfactory marks for Zoe Cassavetes first directorial outing, there’s an overall sense of disappointment with what we’re faced with in the third act: with all of the previous thumbing of the nose towards romantic comedy conventions up to a point, we find ourselves on the streets of Paris on a man-hunt, with a handful of Lost in Translation trappings thrown in. Some tracks from Air or My Bloody Valentine would seem appropriate. Things get muddied. Old Hollywood compromises happen. Before Sunset cribbing happens.

The thing that Cassavetes get so right though, that so many Christopher Guest also-rans with Parker on their call sheets haven’t had the prerogative or balls to pull off in the past - was for once, to just roll Posey out un-caricatured. Though a well-off Manhattanite won’t pass for everywoman, her neuroses are relatively commonplace. There are few cheap or easy laughs. The comedy is eased, rather than crammed in. In fact, by design, you’ll feel more compellled to feel sorry for Nora than laugh at her. This is Posey in a lonesome role that you’d expect for entirely someone else.

A thirty-something single woman is a clichéd indie staple in itself, but this one in particular comes across with such earnestness, like an unhinging has taken place, like an actress has been allowed to cut the histrionics and piss-takes and bullshit, and just roll around in a role for a good long while, maybe for the first time. The crafting of Broken English is nothing to sneeze at, but - just for the surprise factor and very capable handling of the starring role alone - the film marks an above-par directorial debut for Cassavetes, and a career performance for Posey.

Available on DVD now. Broken English trailer.

Also recommended this week:
– Dexter, Season 1

– The Michael Haneke Collection