Sundance ’07: Crazy Love

***½/****
directed by Dan Klores and Fisher Stevens
by Alex Jackson Dan Klores’s Crazy Love is essentially just another talking-head documentary, but my goodness what talking heads they are! At first, it seems that Klores–to echo that oft-repeated charge against pop-doc filmmakers like Errol Morris, Michael Moore, and Chris Smith–is condescending to his subjects by laying their distinctly Jewish tackiness out to be skewered. But as the picture soldiers on, any emotional detachment dissolves away: these people aren’t tactless so much as they’re simply candid. They have absolutely nothing to hide, and that openness makes it extremely difficult to categorize anybody in the film as a monster or a victim. Burt Pugach was a prominent negligence lawyer in the East Bronx; in the fall of 1957, he spotted secretary Linda Riss, fell in love with her, and successfully seduced her. When he couldn’t divorce his wife, Riss left him and got engaged to somebody else. Enraged and deeply depressed, Pugach hired some goons to rough her up. They threw acid in her face, eventually blinding her. Pugach served a stint in prison, and when he got out he proposed to Riss. She accepted–the way she figures it, she’s blind and nobody wants her or is willing to be with her except Pugach, who was the one who blinded her in the first place, explicitly so that nobody else would want her. He “wins.”
Sundance ’07: Fido
Sundance ’07: Teeth
DIFF ’06: The Aura
DIFF ’06: Starfish Hotel
DIFF ’06: The Architect
DIFF ’06: Breaking and Entering
DIFF ’06: The Lives of Others
DIFF ’06: Americanese
DIFF ’06: Rescue Dawn
TIFF ’06: Black Book

**/****
starring Carice van Houten, Sebastian Koch, Thom Hoffman, Halina Reijn
screenplay by Gerard Soeteman & Paul Verhoeven
directed by Paul Verhoeven
by Bill Chambers The word on Paul Verhoeven’s Black Book (Zwartboek) around the TIFF was that it’s “Showgirls meets Schindler’s List,” which is a cute bit of shorthand but decidedly misleading, not that I can begin to imagine what that movie would be like. All it really means is that we’re never going to let Verhoeven live Showgirls down, so who can blame him for going back to Holland, where he’s still an object of veneration? Alas, you can take Verhoeven out of Hollywood but you can’t take Hollywood out of Verhoeven; Black Book is not so much a return to form–by which I mean a throwback to his subversive early work–as it is a supplement to his American output, the kind of Oscar-baiting wartime saga you just know he’d been aching to make with studio resources but only had the guts to execute in his native tongue. (In the press notes for the film, Verhoeven confesses that he stuck with genre in the U.S. because it better disguised his loose grasp of the English language.) The admittedly well-paced picture follows one Dutch Jewish woman’s transformation from Anne Frank into Mata Hari as Rachel-cum-Ellis (Carice van Houten, for whom big things lie ahead) takes a Gestapo general (Jeroen Krabbé doppelgänger Sebastian Koch) for a lover as well as a job at his office, hoping it will all lead to the release of some fellow resistance fighters.
TIFF ’06: Everything’s Gone Green
TIFF ’06: Fay Grim
TIFF ’06: The Last Winter
The TIFFing Point
Two more days until I turn back into a pumpkin (or something like that), probably for the good of not only my health, but also that of FILM FREAK CENTRAL. Anyway, some more stopgap coverage for you…
FAY GRIM (d. Hal Hartley)
As far as this unlikely sequel to the brilliant Henry Fool is concerned, those hoping for a Before Sunset should brace themselves for a Texasville. The movie feels like it came out of Hartley sideways (or, conversely, all too painlessly), and it never really catches fire until Thomas Jay Ryan makes his long-delayed cameo as Henry Fool. By then, it’s too little too late. **/****
TIFF ’06: The Pleasure of Your Company
TIFF ’06: Citizen Duane
My TIFF So Far
Seems we’re all a little constipated right now but rest assured reviews are on the way; here’s a quick rundown of TIFFpix screened thus far by yours truly.
BABEL (d. Alejandro González Iñárritu)
It coheres better than 21 Grams, but Iñárritu and screenwriter Guillermo Arriaga are really spinning their wheels at this point. A few funny extratextual lessons are imparted: never take a Fanning to Mexico (Elle has almost as harrowing an adventure there as sister Dakota does in Man on Fire); and never trust a director who includes a post-script dedication to his children. As with 21 Grams, though, Babel doesn’t make room for any intentional levity, eventually desensitizing you to all the calculated anguish. *½/****