Sundance ’06: By the Ways, A Journey with William Eggleston
Sundance ’06: Awesome; I Fuckin’ Shot That!

Awesome; I Shot That!
½*/****
directed by Nathanial Hörnblowér
by Alex Jackson Given that I was about halfway through a really nasty cold when I saw The Beastie Boys‘ Awesome; I Fuckin’ Shot That!, I probably wasn’t in the right frame of mind to judge its merits. With that disclaimer in place, this has to be the loudest movie I have ever seen. At the end of the ordeal, I felt as though band members Mike D, Adam Horowitz, and Adam Yauch had burrowed inside my brain and gone to work with an iron frying pan. I’ll cop to preferring masochistic cinematic experiences in general and getting angry and frustrated by movies that want little more than to cheer me up–but from now on, I’m going to draw the line at Beastie Boys concert films. At their 2004 Madison Square Garden show, The Beastie Boys handed out cameras to 50 audience members with instructions to shoot anything that interested them; Awesome; I Fuckin’ Shot That! was culled from their footage. It sounds like a pretty daffy idea, but the results are much better than you would expect–or, more accurately, they seem to reflect the vision of director Yauch (credited as Nathanial Hörnblowér). The visuals are every bit as aggressive as the music: they push you down, smash your skull against the pavement, and don’t stop until they see the pink stuff. There are few moments where The Beastie Boys are not performing and there are few shots that don’t underscore the music. It’s cinematic, it’s fast, and it leaves you bruised and wounded.
Sundance ’06: Adam’s Apples

Adams æbler
*/****
starring Ulrich Thomsen, Mads Mikkelsen, Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Nicolas Bro
written and directed by Anders Thomas Jensen
by Alex Jackson Adam’s Apples begins with a Danish skinhead (Ulrich Thomsen) getting off a bus at a halfway house out in the country and keying the vehicle as it drives away, immediately telling us that this isn’t going to be a movie that seriously considers the economic origins and social ramifications of the Danish white-supremacist movement. The skinhead, whose name is Adam, meets the other inhabitants of the halfway house, which include an Arabic stickup-man (who speaks in adorably broken Danish and only robs stores he has a political beef with) and an obese, bearded, childlike sex offender, just so the film can unfairly invite comparisons to Samuel Fuller’s Shock Corridor. The halfway house is run by Ivan (Mads Mikkelsen), a widowed minister who may very well be crazier than his flock! He’s kind of out of it, refusing to believe that his brain-damaged son isn’t able to walk or talk and always firmly turning the other cheek whenever Adam confronts him with the obvious or beats him up in frustration. Ivan requires Adam to think up a short-term goal and follow through on it. Adam rebelliously wisecracks that he would like to bake an apple pie; Ivan, the good-natured idiot, assigns Adam to take care of the church’s lone apple tree. Adam’s Apples is a combination of the “Loveable Crazies” and “The Reformation of Grumpy Bear” sub-genres of pandering middlebrow pap.
Sundance ’06: Thin
Sundance ’06: Cinnamon
Sundance ’06: The Ground Truth
Sundance ’06: Jewboy
Sundance ’06: The Proposition

*/****
starring Guy Pearce, Ray Winstone, Danny Huston, John Hurt
screenplay by Nick Cave
directed by John Hillcoat
by Alex Jackson In his review of Rene Cardona’s exploitation quickie about the Jonestown Massacre Guyana: Cult of the Damned, Roger Ebert describes how Cardona ends the film with photos of the real-life victims while the audience is solemnly reminded that “those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it,” prompting Ebert to crack, “So remember, don’t drink cyanide.” I only wish that John Hillcoat’s The Proposition were that lucid in delivering its Important Lesson. This is a movie at least as gory and brutal as Eli Roth’s Hostel, the highlights being an exploding head and an extended, Gibson-esque flogging of a prisoner. And Hillcoat loves flies: they’re always buzzing over the carrion, the human corpses, the gourmet meals, and the sweat of the film’s grotesquely hairy Australian men. I don’t have a problem with gore per se, but I do have a problem with the self-important joylessness with which it’s depicted here–and frankly, The Proposition hasn’t any justification for its austere tone.