Tribeca Film Festival

May 15, 2006 3:40 PM
by [email]

Starbucks kept me going. A big vat of the stuff, absolutely free, in the fabulously glossy press lounge where credentials were required and there was never a shortage of Cliff bars, kettle corn, or messy whoopie pies.

No, I didn’t go on a junk food binge last week. I did binge, but it was entirely visual. A few weeks before the Tribeca Film Festival, I -being the novice that I am- announced I was going to see everything. A much more seasoned colleague laughed at me.

Family films, foreign films, new voices, and documentaries inclusive, the fifth annual Tribeca Film Festival featured a grand total of 257 movies in ten days. That’s more than 25 movies a day. I don’t think I need to do the math. I read synopses, scanned press releases, made big red circles around anything even remotely interesting (very few films were left white), and narrowed selections down to a list of fifty must-sees. Fighting a cold on the subway and fighting paparazzi on red carpets, I made it to fifteen.

A typical weekend at Tribeca: Saturday I talked to Edward Norton in the morning, saw the excellent noir “Lonely Hearts,” and tripped on John Travolta’s shoe after a press conference.

Sunday I watched Alec Baldwin sleep with Nikki Reed at 10AM (“Mini’s First Time,” undeniably sharp, but not the best way to wake up). Two films later, John Malkovich showed up for a “Colour Me Kubrick” Q&A, and I still needed three cokes and a cup of coffee just to stay awake.

I have a soft spot for my first Tribeca movie, “Akeelah and the Bee,” an endearing L.A. spin on the underrated ‘Bee Season.’ The plucky protagonist (Keke Palmer), makes a cloying excess of sentiment bearable, as do terrific performances by Angela Bassett, as the protagonist’s mother, and Laurence Fishburne, as her teacher. What ‘Akeelah’ lacks in subtlety, it more than makes up for with heart.

Here’s a sample of the rest of the fest:

Colour Me Kubrick: As real-life Kubrick impersonator Alan Conway, Malkovich wears pink underwear (and not on his bottom) and tries out every over-the-top accent imaginable. It’s a good joke, but I didn’t really need to watch close to two hours of it.

Driving Lessons: Jeremy’s Brock’s charming semi-autobiography stars Rupert Grint (in his first foray out of ‘Harry Potter’ territory) as Ben, a seventeen-year-old who befriends an aging actress (Julie Walters), much to the dismay of his religious mother (Laura Linney). Linney provides the driving lessons of the title, while Walters, in an Oscar worthy performance, teaches him about real life.

The Groomsman: The characters are in their thirties, but they make Rupert Grint and all the other youngsters at Tribeca look mature. Ed Burns’ fourth feature is a bit too sprawling (in terms of cast and otherwise), but the characters come off as real (Jay Mohr’s perpetual bachelor is best), and there’s never a slow minute. Burns, as a writer engaged to Brittany Murphy’s suburban rich girl, gets great support from Heather Burns and Matthew Lillard, among others.

Kettle of Fish: It’s nice to see Matthew Modine back on the big screen, I just wish it wasn’t in this limp excuse for a romantic comedy. Some viewers may cotton to Gina Gershon badly cast as a British Biologist a la Jerry Lewis (she’s commendable), or to the by-the-numbers screenplay, which might have been entertaining if it wasn’t the third movie I’d seen that day (see, I’m cutting some slack). On the upside? The Jazz music is good.

Land of the Blind: Think “Wag the Dog” with drunk doses of “The Manchurian Candidate.” Twisted in more ways than one, “Blind,” which is set for wider June release, gives viewers the watch to see Lara Flynn Boyle try out a contemporary, sexpot Lady MacBeth, Donald Sutherland morph from good to evil, and Ralph Fiennes wilt in idealistic glory. An impressive, if messy, debut by writer/director Robert Edwards, who cut his teeth in documentaries and has a military background that well informs the film.

Local Color: This sweet, slow-paced feature written and directed by George Gallo (“Midnight Run”) stars Trevor Morgan as a teenaged aspiring artist, and Armin Mueller-Stahl as the cranky genius who spends a summer as his mentor. The scenery and paintings are lovely (Gallo is an impressionist in real life), and the cast, which includes Samantha Mathis and Ray Liotta, is excellent across the board.

Lonely Hearts: Inspired by a famous string of murders in the 1950’s, this potboiler rises well above the level of a John Travolta vehicle (my main concern when I sat down in the screening room). The real standout is Jared Leto (here’s to hoping he’ll finally stop being underrated) as the balding male-half of the murderous honeymoon killers (Salma Hayek plays his manipulative lover), who seduce and kill the lonely hearts of the title. Real life pals Travolta and James Gandolfini play detectives trying to crack the case. Laura Dern, who leaves a big impression in a small role, plays Travolta’s girlfriend.

Mini’s First Time: On the sleezier side of the spectrum, Reed plays Mini, a high-schooler with an alcoholic mom (a scene-stealing Carrie-Ann Moss) and an uber-rich step dad (Alec Baldwin) with a taste for young girls (you can see where this is headed). A tolerance for incest, murder, and outlandish behavior is a viewing pre-req. Luke Wilson and Jeff Goldblum have entertaining comic turns.

One Last Thing: Considering the premise is a kiss of death, Alex Steyermark has done something admirable with this story of a dying sixteen year old (Michael Angarano) who is determined to spend a weekend with his favorite supermodel (Sunny Mabry).

Some silliness (including strippers and odd visions of Ethan Hawke as the protagonist’s deceased dad), draws focus from what is, at its best, an incisive and complex look at dying young. Angarano, seventeen when the film was shot, creates a plucky hero it’s easy to root for, and Cynthia Nixon, as his mom, has a gift for making the most utterly schmaltzy material unsentimental. It almost works.

Pittsburgh: Jeff Goldblum’s breezy “docu-comedy” depicts the actor’s wonderfully wacky onscreen alter-ego, who travels to his hometown (see the title) to star in a regional production of “The Music Man.” Sprightly, inventive co-directors Chris Bradley and Kyle LaBrache could keep Christopher Guest on his toes.

Return to Rajapur: Nanda Anand’s debut is mostly notable for picturesque views and authentic flavor (the pre-premiere party was held in a midtown loft with stunning gardens and delicious Indian food that almost swayed my impression of the film). Samantha (“Thumbsucker’s” Kelli Garner) is an orphaned American girl who travels to India with a snapshot of a mysterious woman (Lynn Collins, “The Merchant of Venice.”) Well-acted flashbacks ensue, but they’re clumsily juxtaposed with the present. Characters played by Celia Weston and Justin Thereoux were a bit one-note for my tastes.

Wah Wah: The screenwriting/ directorial debut of actor Richard E. Grant opens memorably as young Ralph, (Zachary Fox; later “About A Boy”’s Nicholas Hoult), watches his mother commit adultery. Set in 1970’s Swaziland and filmed on location, it’s visually stunning and emotionally engaging. The ending (true as it may be) seems tacked on, but striking performances by Gabriel Byrne, Miranda Richardson, and Emily Watson (believably American as Byrne’s outspoken fiancé) rate it worth a peek.

Snow Cake: The best film I saw at the festival, and, possibly the only one I’d really consider watching more than once. Alan Rickman (in a role expressly written by talented first-time screen scribe Angela Pell), plays an ex-convict who strikes up a friendship with a “high-functioning” autistic (Sigourney Weaver).

No, it doesn’t sound like a feel-good Friday night flick, but for those so inclined, there is a romance (with Carrie-Anne Moss, excellent yet again), and a great deal of humor. Plus an original vision, illuminating relationships, Oscar-worthy performances, and everything else an independent film festival should pride itself on. The film is set, funnily enough, in the Canadian town of Wawa.

Coming of age was a theme this year. Even for Tom Cruise, whose Ethan Hunt has presumably settled down (with Michelle Monoghan) and traded impossible missions for training promising young agents (including Kerri Russell).

The appearance of an ominous bad guy (Philip Seymour Hoffmann), threatens to blast his grown-up lifestyle to shambles, but is responsibility all that entertaining? This “Mission” (Impossible III) is almost as good as the first one, but I’m still baffled as to what it was doing at Tribeca.