The Magic Mirror (Espelho Mágico)
Manoel de Oliveira, 2007
US
@ Anthology Film Archives

I've heard Oliveira's name a lot in magazines, online, etc. so I felt like I ought to check this film out, though as Nathan Lee points out in his Village Voice review, this is one of the least accessible films in recent memory. I incorrectly described this to Charles as boring; I can get into slow, "boring" movies, but this is full of talking that goes in circles, or nowhere. I didn't find a lot to get excited about visually, either.

See also: IMDb | Nathan Lee review

I Don't Want to Sleep Alone (Hei yan quan) **
Tsai Ming-liang, 2007
Malaysia
@ IFC Center

I fell asleep during about four consecutive lengthy shots in the first half hour, but it started to gel later on when I figured out the connections between the characters and static shots carried more emotional impact. The intensity built really powerfully toward the end, climaxing in the final shot of the three main characters floating into view at a glacial pace on top of the ever-present mattress.

See also: IMDb | Metacritic

The Wendell Baker Story *
Luke & Andrew Wilson, 2007
US
@ AMC Empire

Stylus Review

Assuming the Wilson brothers are actually three slightly varied manifestations of some bizarre hive mind (they aren't?), we should have been able to infer a lot about The Wendell Baker Story from their collaborations with Wes Anderson, particularly Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, and The Royal Tenenbaums. Had we performed such an exercise, what might we have expected from this film? Male rascals, young and old, probably misfits, all running slightly afoul of the law but, in the end, basically lovable; a healthy dose of kitsch; stylized dialogue; and some sort of outrageously inappropriate love interest.

Apart from a cheerful octogenarian perched for a few minutes on Owen's knee at the state-owned retirement hotel he runs, viewers hoping for a prominent case of forbidden love will be largely disappointed. Otherwise, the film largely satisfies generic expectations.

Luke Wilson stars as the titular hero, a charming naïf who runs a rather conspicuous operation on the banks of the Rio Grande selling fake IDs to illegal immigrants. He inevitably gets busted and, after displaying an interest in the hospitality industry, eventually paroled to a work-release program at the aforementioned state-owned retirement hotel run by Neil King (Owen Wilson) along with his henchman, McTeague (Eddie Griffin). Wendell soon discovers, or rather hears directly from Neil, that residents are shipped off-site to a ranch owned by Neil's mother in order to skim off their Medicare checks. With support from oldsters Boyd (Seymour Cassel) and Skip (Harry Dean Stanton), Wendell sets out to return the exiled residents and generally make things right.

While the film certainly has its moments and shows some filmmaking potential, for much of the time it just doesn't seem to work. At the most basic technical level, even the voices don't seem to have been recorded well, as they're mixed surprisingly low compared to the solidly enjoyable country/country-rock soundtrack. The shots are often extreme close-ups, maybe from the eyebrow to just below the lips, seemingly appropriate either for high drama or full-on parody, though most of the action here falls somewhere in between.

The action is mostly split up into small, under-developed scenes, although the bit at the grocery store is a delightful exception. After meeting his soon-to-be arch-enemy (Will Ferrell playing the store manager in one of his more restrained cameos) at the checkout counter, Wendell spots his ex, Doreen (Eva Mendes), and stalks her throughout the store before eventually getting punched out for his efforts. He comes to an understanding with Doreen while Ferrell's character makes outrageous, hostile faces at him in the background.

Scenes like this make the best of a sometimes awkward combination of genuine drama or romance and spoof comedy familiar from the Wes Anderson films. Indeed, by the end the Wilson brothers' enduring sweetness seems an asset, particularly as embodied in Kris Kristofferson's gentle, shy, and retiring oil magnate. While I'm not prepared to praise this particular movie too highly, it should be very interesting to see what these cantankerous Texans come up with next.

Zoo ***
Robinson Devor, 2007
US
@ IFC Center

I've read a few good reviews of this but GreenCine's interview with writer Charles Mudede will probably give you the best idea of whether you want to see a movie about a group of zoophiles based near Seattle. Beautifully shot (on video) with a haunting soundtrack.

See also: IMDb | Metacritic

Year of the Dog *
Mike White, 2007
US
@ Angelika Film Center

Stylus Review

SPOILER ALERT: If you're really convinced that critical discussion of a film ought to exclude plot details about the final third of said film, beware.

For his debut film, successful writer and first-time director Mike White (School of Rock, The Good Girl) has crafted a deeply offbeat and seemingly quite misanthropic little picture. While the ads and trailers suggested a movie about people who love dogs, Year of the Dog is actually the story of dog owner Peggy's (Molly Shannon) transformation from a shy, congenial dog owner to a radical, somewhat strident vegan and animal rights activist. Neither romantic comedy (nobody gets hitched) nor tragedy (no humans die), it's more a depiction of one woman's solitary journey inward, outward, or perhaps leftward, politically speaking.

After a gentle slow-motion opening scene at the dog park, White's camera settles in to render Peggy's alienation from her fellow humans via angles and framing. Using head-on medium shots and close-ups, White isolates Peggy in the frame, gazing placidly and bemusedly at her conversational partners, all of whom embody one or more humorous neuroses or personality flaws. Often, as in the scenes featuring Pier (Thomas McCarthy) and Bret (Laura Dern), Peggy's brother and sister-in-law, she stands or sits conspicuously alone across from a couple or group. The soundtrack (think Badlands-lite) is buoyant and rather cheerful in a restrained fashion, and the mood is, at least on the surface, pleasant, but the undercurrent suggested by the images and dialogue is one of unease.

Though it may not be immediately recognizable, White synchronizes Peggy's inner state with her canine companions. Her first dog, Pencil, is appropriately calm and loving. Once Pencil dies from unintentional poisoning, Peggy's life starts to head off course, though at first it's not apparent. Her second pet, Valentine, comes from an abusive home, which spawned some "behavioral issues," but Peggy agrees he deserves a second chance. As indicated by the dog's name, Peggy falls in love through his adoption, though she is stung in the end by her foiled attempt at romance and, soon after, inevitably bitten by the dog.

Her unrequited love, Newt (Peter Sarsgaard), exposes her to the twin gospels of Veganism and Animal Rights, both of which she takes to heart quickly and profoundly. Late in the second act, Peggy leaves Valentine in Newt's care while she goes to babysit overnight for Pier and Bret while they spend a night away on New Year's Eve. Against their wishes, Peggy indoctrinates the kids by taking them to a humane farm where they also learn about more traditional and cruel methods of keeping livestock and poultry. She even manages, after getting tipsy on some celebratory champagne, to destroy Laura's extensive collection of furs. Though up to this point her relatives have been generally indulgent of her quirks, they finally reprimand her, and, in parallel, Valentine is put to sleep for mauling another dog.

Distraught, Peggy lies to the workers at the pound about her credentials and snatches fifteen dogs from the jaws of death, adopting them all and creating mass insanity at her home. Finally at one with herself and completely at odds with society, Peggy drops out, quitting her job, packing up and heading off on a bus to protest against animal testing in Dallas.

This last part exemplifies what seems so confusing about Year of the Dog. The writer/director appears at points to be chiding Peggy for so aggressively foisting her new-found politics on others, such as the scene where Pier and Bret laugh uproariously upon discovering that, for Christmas, Peggy has by proxy adopted and renamed farm animals in their name, Pier a pig and Bret a cow. Or the incriminating forged checks Peggy signs in her boss's name at work to send to animal rights organizations: bravery or foolishness? Indeed, Peggy even drops out of normal society altogether at the end, the only alternative for her to continuing her former existence and eventually going insane.

Publicity, however, reveals that Mike White is himself a vegan and animal lover, and as such this seems to be a semi-autobiographical project. Are we supposed to be in on the joke when Newt takes Peggy to a vegan restaurant and wows her with the seemingly hilarious list of fake meat dishes, such as the Seitan Sloppy Joe, or is the humor unintentional? Why is no link established between the irresponsibility of keeping too many pets and the corollary of dog pounds and euthanasia, a form of animal cruelty as prevalent though perhaps not as obvious as, say, breeding battery chickens?

It's not hard to admire White and Shannon for making such an odd little film about these issues, but at the same time it's difficult to emerge from the experience anything but confused.