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đ˝ď¸ THE MUSIC BOX 70MM FILM FESTIVAL
The Music Box Theatreâs seventh 70mm Film Festival starts Friday and goes through Thursday, June 30. Reviews of select films are listed below; other films screening this week are Gene Kellyâs 1969 musical HELLO, DOLLY! (146 min, 70mm), just once on Saturday at 7pm; George Seatonâs 1970 disaster spectacle AIRPORT (137 min, 70mm) on Sunday and Wednesday at 7:30pm; and Douglas Trumbullâs 1983 sci-fi film BRAINSTORM (106 min, 70mm), preceded by a newly restored 70mm print of HEREâS CHICAGO! CITY OF DREAMS (see below for review), on Thursday at 7pm. More info here.
Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (UK/US)
See Venue website for showtimes
For many, 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY is not simply a masterpiece, but the apotheosis of moviegoing itself. In no other film is the experience of seeing images larger than oneself linked so directly to contemplating humanity's place in the universe. Kubrick achieves this (literally) awesome effect through a number of staggering devices: a narrative structure that begins at "the dawn of man" and ends with the final evolution of humankind; one-of-a-kind special effects, the result of years of scientific research, that forever changed visual representations of outer space; a singular irony that renders the most familiar human interaction beguiling; blasts of symphonic music that heighten the project of sensory overload. It isn't hyperbolic to assert, as film scholar Michel Chion has in his book Kubrick's Cinema Odyssey, that this could be the most expensive experimental film ever made; it's certainly the most abstracted of all big-budget productions. As in most of Kubrick's films, the pervasive ambiguityâthe product of every detail having been realized so thoroughly as to seem independent of an authorâensures a different experience from viewing to viewing. Much criticism has noted the shifting nature of "thinking" computer HAL-9000, the "star" of the movie's longest section, who can seem evil, pathetic, or divine depending on one's orientation to the film; less often discussed is the poker-faced second movement, largely set in the ultra-professional meeting rooms of an orbiting space station. Is this a satire of Cold War diplomacy (something like a drier follow-up to DR. STRANGELOVE)? An allegory about the limitations of scientific knowledge? Like the "Beyond the Infinite" sequence that makes up most of the film's final movementâan astonishing piece of abstract expressionist art every bit the equal of the Gyorgy Ligeti composition that accompanies itâone can never know concretely what it all "means," nor would one ever want to. (1968, 142 min, 70mm) [Ben Sachs]
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John Carpenter's STARMAN (US)
Friday, 11pm and Sunday, 11:30am
After the fallout from THE THING's disappointing box-office performance (which had the now-legendary misfortune of going up against E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL on opening weekend) and grueling production schedule, John Carpenter explicitly wanted to next make a film that wasn't nihilistic or about evil, which would redeem him in the eyes of the audience he felt had turned on him. And so STARMAN, a script that had languished for five years in development at Columbia Pictures--missing the boat on the feel-good, new-agey kind of story that audiences flocked to for E.T.--found its way into Carpenter's hands. Carpenter loved the classic Hollywood road-movie that was the emotional core of a film about an alien (Jeff Bridges) crash-landing on Earth and inhabiting a cloned body of a woman's (Karen Allen) recently deceased husband. In Carpenter's best films, he places normal individuals in extreme situations against a ticking-clock--Snake Plisskin has 24 hours to escape New York, Mike Myers has to be stopped before the end of Halloween night, Precinct 13 must hold until reinforcements at dawn--and in STARMAN, our star-crossed heroes have three days to make it from Wisconsin to Arizona. But in this film, Carpenter leans back a bit with the ticking-clock structure, and in its best moments, STARMAN uses its hokey, new-agey story to gaze out upon and muse on the American countryside. So the film's portrait of the American mid and south-west in the 80's takes on a documentary quality, similar to TWO-LANE BLACKTOP in the early '70s. It also has, you know, like, Jeff Bridges, man. (1984, 115 min, 70mm) [Max Frank]
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Stanley Kubrick's SPARTACUS (US)
Sunday, 2:30pm and Tuesday, 7pm
A communist screenwriter, an iconic film star, and one of the greatest American directors in film history make a movie together in 70mm. It almost sounds like the start of a joke, but it's the truth of Universal's Roman epic, SPARTACUS. This grandiose classic came into existence through many happy accidents. It started with Kirk Douglas not getting cast in another Roman blockbuster BEN-HUR (1959). As producer, Douglas bought the rights to Howard Fast's book and hired Dalton Trumbo to write the screenplay. Hiring a writer on the Hollywood blacklist was a controversial choice that was expected to harm the filmâs PR; sure enough, it was picketed by anti-communists on its initial release. Douglas fired the original director of this picture a week into shooting; it was at this point that a 30-year-old Stanley Kubrick entered the project. This came to the surprise of the studio, as the actor and director butted heads constantly on the set of their previous collaboration, PATHS OF GLORY (1957). (Thereâs an interview with the late Kirk Douglas at over 100 years old still calling Kubrick a talented bastard.) On top of all these risks and happenstances, SPARTACUS was one Hollywoodâs most expensive projects at the time. Shooting in Technicolor was not cheap at the time, and the filmmakers blew up the budget even more by shooting it all in whopping 70mm. Even as a stand-in director, Kubrick shows some of his talented in-sequences and commands this colossal project with such legendary actors as Douglas and Olivier (very different in performance style) at the top of their game. In the history of cinema, there are many cases where massive production budgets bloat and ruin the story being told. SPARTACUS from its bones is a story that can only be contained and experienced at the largest scale known at the time. We are fortunate to have the ability to recreate this cinematic experience in its original form. (1960, 181 min, 70mm) [Ray Ebarb]
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Jim Henson & Frank Oz's THE DARK CRYSTAL (US)
Thursday, 9:45pm
Though not as charming or funny as any of the GREAT MUPPET movies or its successor, LABYRINTH, THE DARK CRYSTAL is an impressive and immersive feature that still accomplishes a good bit of cinematic alchemy. Henson and Oz decided with this feature to shoot a somber, epic high-fantasy story with not a single human actor. It would be impossible to shoot a movie with Muppets and not inject a little silliness in here and there, though, and the credit for that silliness goes to the character designs and sensational voice acting (most notably by the Chamberlain, a sycophantic and especially grotesque villain). THE DARK CRYSTAL tells the story of Jen, a gelfling (an elf-like creature) who was orphaned by the evil skeksis, hilarious bird-like grotesques that rule the land since the dark crystal was sundered 1000 years ago. The costuming and character design of the skeksis are just perfect. Such an intricate amount of detail went into every nook and cranny of this film, but especially the wrinkles and hideous folds of the withered, avaricious faces of the skeksis. Though the prophecy foretold that a gelfling would bring about the end of the skeksis, they have tried to battle their fate by wiping out the entire race. Little did they know, Jen survived and was rescued by the mystics, many-armed and humpbacked creatures reminiscent of Buddhist monks. A convergence of three suns is foretold and the mystics send Jen on a journey to find the shard to repair the dark crystal and heal the land. Jen's journey takes him through magical landscapes that take full advantage of Brian Froud's art design and the then-flashy technique of optical printing to enhance the enchanting experience. Though the story is not very original, and the script is not witty like LABYRINTH or some of the other later Muppet movies, the charm and splendor of this movie really lies in the painstaking attention to detail. A very dear film from my childhood, as an adult I can return to it and appreciate the care and creativity and joy that was clearly expressed in creating fantastically weird and majestic Muppets, villages, castles, miscellaneous forest creatures and plants, backstory, mystical pictographic language and hieroglyphics, and hideous villains. Like many dark fantasies of the 1980s (RETURN TO OZ and THE SECRET OF NIMH jump to mind), THE DARK CRYSTAL struck a sharp contrast to saccharine Disney animations. Henson and Oz instead drew on the tone and archetypes of The Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen, and the result is horrifying and thrilling, as any traumatized 1980's child will testify. The mere fact that Henson was able to make Muppets terrifying and their tragedy heart-wrenching is reason enough to watch this film, but the gorgeous detail in every frame is the real reason to watch it at the 70mm Film Festival. Bring your children with you so that you can traumatize a new generation of loyal Muppet fans. (1982, 93 min, 70mm) [Alex Ensign]
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Ted Hearneâs HEREâS CHICAGO! THE CITY OF DREAMS (US/Documentary short)
Presented by the Chicago Film Society with BRAINSTORM â Thursday, 7pm
With funding from the National Film Preservation Foundation, the Chicago Film Society has restored HEREâS CHICAGO! THE CITY OF DREAMS, a short, reverential travelogue about the greatest US city. It was shot on 70mm and, per CFS, âscreened nearly every day at the Water Tower Pumping Station from 1983-1993, until the exhibit was closed prematurely in a classic City of Chicago lease dispute.â Alas, the film doesnât offer a sense of that colorful, albeit not entirely legal Chicago way of business that informs everything here from mayoral politics to the way pricing is determined on an Italian beef sandwich. THE CITY OF DREAMS is primarily a tribute to downtown architecture, filled with numerous helicopter and low-angle shots that underscore the majesty of Marina City, the Willis (nĂŠ Sears) Tower, and other landmark skyscrapers. The Art Institute, Board of Trade, and Chicago River also factor into the montage, which is never less than stirring, thanks to the booming orchestral score. But the real attraction is the 70mm cinematography, which grants an almost frighteningly grand quality to even such banal images as a random person waiting for the red line at Loyola. That shot, incidentally, is one of precious few of the cityâs many neighborhoods; THE CITY OF DREAMS is so focused on the Loop and the Magnificent Mile that it makes Chicago seem more like a theme park attraction than a place where people actually live. Still, thereâs no fun quite like a theme park, and seeing this on 70mm is always a great ride. Screening before Douglas Trumbullâs 1983 sci-fi film BRAINSTORM (106 min, 70mm). (1983, 13 min, 70mm) [Ben Sachs]
đ˝ď¸ CRUCIAL VIEWING
Channing Godfrey Peoplesâ MISS JUNETEENTH (US)
Facets Cinema â Sunday, 11am
The weight of matters at the heart of writer-director Channing Godfrey Peoplesâ MISS JUNETEENTH are expressed subtly, tucked into the folds of its modest narrative. At a parade where a Miss Juneteenth hopeful rides atop a float, her mother, Turquoise (Nicole Beharie), wears a âFourth of Julyâ shirt with that text crossed out and the word âJuneteenthâ proudly displayed underneath. Though the allusive holiday is at the center of the film, the characters do not plainly discuss the history around itâthe aspiring beauty queensâ visit to a makeshift Juneteenth museum helps illuminate details of the holidayâs history for viewers who may be unawareânor do they examine the societal forces that resulted in their present-day circumstances. This is a movie that, for the most part, shows rather than tells in a smart, genuinely affecting manner, cluing viewers into whatâs at stake with assured filmmaking and adroit character development. Turquoise is a young mother to Kai (Alexis Chikaeze), whom sheâs convinced to enter the same pageant that she herself won as a teenager, with little thought toward the exorbitant cost; the prize is a scholarship to the historically Black college of the winnerâs choice, a benefit that Turquoise wasnât able to utilize upon becoming pregnant with her daughter. Fifteen years later sheâs tending bar at a beloved local watering hole, picking up shifts as a make-up artist for the recently deceased, and occasionally hooking up with her estranged husband (Kendrick Sampson), who fails at providing Turquoise and Kai with the support they need; itâs later revealed that some years prior she had worked as a stripper, a fact she acknowledges without shame. Lest it be presumed that sheâs pinned all her unrealized hopes and dreams on Kai, Turquoiseâs driveâfor both her daughter and herselfâis less about succeeding in spite of the past and more about striving for the future she believes they both deserve. Beharie embodies the spirit of Godfrey Peoplesâ direction, communicating a whole complicated and meaningful lifetime through Turquoiseâs unwavering stance, her passionate gaze, even the way she jokes around with her daughter in the dark after the lights have been shut off. Chikaeze brings to her role the very sensibility that Kai reveals, one of a desire to be wholly herself, lovingly realized through her unique interpretation of Maya Angelouâs âPhenomenal Woman,â which Turquoise had recited for her winning performance. Godfrey Peoples has remarked that many such details were pulled from Black life in the South (the film is set in Fort Worth, Texas), where it might be expected that a contestant would perform the canonical entry at a Juneteenth pageant. Particularities like this emphasize the thoughtfulness with which Godfrey Peoples composed her fiction, grounded in real life but still teeming with invention, the combination of which results in a stirring drama whose subtle lessons endure thereafter. Brunch items, such as mimosas and food items from Mickiiâs, will be available for purchase at the concession stand; all net proceeds from the screening and brunch will be donated to the Gyrls In The H.O.O.D. Foundation. (2020, 103 min, DCP Digital) [Kat Sachs]
Jane Campionâs THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY (UK/US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Monday, 6pm
Itâs always surprised me that Jane Campionâs THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY was so critically derided. I can sort of understand IN THE CUTâs negative reception, so affronting are its graphic depictions of sex and violence. But Campionâs Henry James adaptation is, like its source material, an obtuse masterpiece, disguised here in cinematic form as a lush period drama replete with elegant costumes and ornate decor, at the very least inoffensive in its aims. Itâs possible that critics and viewers alike were expecting something akin to THE PIANO (1993), considering the film was Campionâs follow-up to that previous award-winning and commercially successful calling card. But where the earlier film was set in the sprawling New Zealand landscape, the latter embraces claustrophobic settings to underscore the psychological torment faced by protagonist Isabel Archer (Nicole Kidman, lustrous). Eschewing elemental abandon for the distinctly European flavoring of well-mended, rarely enjoyed gardens and staunch, unshakeable structures, Campion was lobbed with accusations of stuffiness and pretension, missing the points that it was those very constraints from which the heroine was desperate to free herself. Isabel is a beautiful young American on a prolonged visit with family outside London; she contends with multiple admirers, ranging from a wealthy neighbor to a brash American upstart to her own cousin, Ralph Touchett (Martin Donovan). Yet Isabel desires independence, yearning to see the world and glean its wisdom free from the restrictions of matrimony; that she may do so, Ralph arranges for his sickly father to leave Isabel his fortune after he dies, setting into motion a chain of events that leads to Isabel being manipulated by fellow American expatriates Madame Serena Merle (Barbara Hershey) and Gilbert Osmond (John Malkovich). Serena arranges for Isabel to meet and eventually marry Gilbert, helping him to secure her fortune. Gilbert at one point tells Isabel, self-effacingly, that he has nothing to offer her. The proclamation becomes a haunting promise, first piquing Isabelâs interest as a sign of her paramourâs material humbleness and later coming to fruition in his behavior toward her, mostly cold and occasionally marked by physical abuse. At the beginning of the film, thereâs a several-minute, black-and-white sequence of young girls in the present day whispering aspirations of love; for Campion, desire, specifically as experienced by women, does not negate any other parts of being but rather is a natural yearning from which the self can be realized, if sometimes unfavorably. Itâs a likewise generative and destructive force, as is embodied in the character of Isabel Archer. This introductory sequence is one of a few unanticipated flourishes that make this so much more than a rote period drama or literary adaptation, and may account for viewersâ distaste. Like Isabel Archer, the singular auteurâs films are testaments to human complexity and the dyads that exist within, often confounding but always exhilarating. Screening as part of 50/50, the Film Centerâs year-long series including a film from each year the theater has been open. (1996, 144 min, 35mm) [Kat Sachs]
Steven Spielberg's A.I. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE (US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Thursday, 6pm
In many regards, A.I. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE represents the inverse of Steven Spielberg's E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL (1982). In this film, the alien creature is not from outer space but manmade, and the broken family he attempts to heal rejects his efforts. Adapted by Spielberg from a script he'd developed with Stanley Kubrick, A.I. imagines a dystopian future where rising water levels have rendered much of Earth uninhabitable; androids, who live like second-class citizens, mediate most human interactions. The film's first act focuses on a couple who adopt an android boy to take the place of their biological son, who's in a coma. After the couple abandons their adopted son (in one of the most upsetting passages in Spielberg's filmography), the android embarks on a search to recover his human family, discovering unwelcome truths about himself--and humanity--in the process. The movie divided audiences on first release with its conclusion, which imagines the end of humanity and the ironic fulfillment of the android boy's wish to be reunited with his mother. For some, Spielberg's handling of this development constituted a betrayal of Kubrick's cynicism; for others, it represented a strange and powerful conflation of Spielbergian uplift and Kubrickian ambiguity. That the ending has inspired so many readings confirms that A.I. is more in line with Kubrick's work than Spielberg's, despite the surface sentimentality. Spielberg has often said that he considers Kubrick the greatest director of all time, and A.I. is a moving and multifaceted tribute to his hero's career. The emotionalism doesn't detract from the Kubrickian themes of dehumanization and annihilation, but rather complicates them and renders them strange. Screening as part of the Control.Alt.Delete series presented as part of Science on Screenâ. (2001, 146 min, 35mm) [Ben Sachs]
Jennie Livingston's PARIS IS BURNING (US/Documentary)
Facets Cinema â Friday, 9pm
Almost three decades have passed since the release of PARIS IS BURNING and Jennie Livingstonâs poignant documentary is still deeply relevant. Following drag queens and performers in the New York City ballroom scene, Livingston gives her subjects the space to do the bulk of the talking, walking, and posing. Itâs both intimate and unobtrusiveâmanaging to strike an exceptionally difficult balance for a debut documentary feature. PARIS IS BURNING captures the enthusiasm and character of âhouseâ balls: from the many kinds of performance competitions, to the costumes, and the energy that exudes from everyone in front of the lens. But PARIS IS BURNING does not paint an overly gaudy portrait, either. There is glitz and glamour, sure, but there is also immense painâoften from the loss of loved ones to the AIDS crisis and transphobic, homophobic violence. While PARIS IS BURNING has been critiqued over the years, it is still a fundamental text in the queer cinematic canon; both as an authentic documentation of queer life and as an introduction to vital fragments of queer history and culture that should not be forgotten. (1991, 71 min, Digital Projection) [Cody Corrall]
Robert Z. Leonardâs IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMERTIME (US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Wednesday, 6pm
Of the surfeit of movie musicals to come out of Golden Age Hollywood, IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMERTIME doesnât typically rank among the best; its score, comprised of turn-of-the-century standards, is not especially memorable, and thereâs little dancing to make up for what the music lacks. However, the film remains of interest for a number of reasons, which have helped secure its legacy. Most notably, it serves as the middle of a series of major film adaptations of MiklĂłs LĂĄszlĂłâs 1937 play Parfumerie, with Ernst Lubitschâs THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER (1940) as its predecessor and Nora Ephronâs YOUâVE GOT MAIL (1998) as its much later successor. Director Robert Z. Leonard relocates the story from Budapest to Chicago, where his protagonists, both working in the same music shop, unknowingly conduct a romance via anonymous pen pal letters. Van Johnson takes over the James Stewart role (he even seems to mimic Stewartâs voice for part of the picture), while Judy Garland fills the role previously played by Margaret Sullavan. IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMERTIME is notable for being Garlandâs penultimate film at MGM. Although the actress was infamously dealing with personal struggles and clashes with the studio, you wouldnât know it from her performance, as she attacks the role of the headstrong but hopelessly romantic Veronica Fisher with feisty gusto, juicily sparring with Johnsonâs salesman before silently realizing her growing infatuation for him in a lovely piece of facial acting late in the film. Garland is as sharp here as she ever was, her full-blooded vocal performance and presence enlivening what are often listlessly executed musical numbers. Other standout roles are played by the wonderful character actor S. Z. âCuddlesâ Sakall and Buster Keaton in his first MGM picture in 16 years. Keaton also served as a gag writer on the film, and he was unsurprisingly responsible for the two best comedic moments, both faux pas involving wrecked personal belongings. Despite barely taking place in the titular season, IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMERTIME is a mostly sunny affair, a colorful, good old time with some of Hollywoodâs all-time great players. (Add to that list Liza Minnelli, who makes her first film appearance as an infant in the closing shot!) Screening as part of the Judy Garland Summer Centennial series. (1949, 102 min, DCP Digital) [Jonathan Leithold-Patt]
Saul Williams and Anisia Uzeymanâs NEPTUNE FROST (US/Rwanda)
Gene Siskel Film Center â See Venue website for showtimes
âThe movie has a plot that defies common sense,â wrote Roger Ebert upon revisiting Fritz Langâs METROPOLIS some years back, âbut its very discontinuity is a strength.â I watched Saul Williams and Anisia Uzeymanâs NEPTUNE FROST the night before I left on a trip to Berlin; the film came to mind as I read informational placards at an exhibit about Langâs visionary achievement at the Deutsche Kinemathekâs Museum fĂźr Film und Fernsehen. Much like METROPOLIS, Williams and Uzeymanâs inspired Afrofuturist disquisition addresses a contemporary moment from so far into the future (spiritually if not in actuality; it's not made clear when it takes place) that solutions of the present look positively prehistoric by comparison. Itâs the current juncture that the filmmakers interrogate through a meticulously constructed albeit intriguingly opaque narrative, rapidly confronting all means of social issues in such a way that defies "common sense" and is all the better for it. The film centers on two charactersâNeptune (Elvis Ngabo/Cheryl Isheja), an intersex runaway who miraculously transitions from male to female toward the beginning of the film, and Matalusa (Bertrand "Kaya Free" Ninteretse), a coltan miner spurred by the death of his younger brotherâand the impact their eventual coupling has on the remote Burundi hideaway where a radical cyberpunk hacker collective later endeavors to seek retribution from an unjust world. In summary it sounds cohesive enough, but in practice Williams (a multi-hyphenate talent who wrote the filmâs script) wastes no opportunity in adding layer after layer to an already dense political mythology; the persistent refrain of the phrase âunanimous goldmineâ used as a greeting is just one example. NEPTUNE FROST is also a musical, with memorable, politically charged songs written by Williams and performed as outrĂŠ set pieces reminiscent of the cannily exuberant numbers in Bruno Dumontâs two Joan of Arc films. The costumes and production design are similarly memorable; both were created by Rwandan artist Cedric Mizero, who utilized recycled materials and what might otherwise be termed trash to create an out-of-this world, but still decidedly of this world, DIY milieu. Rwandan actress and filmmaker Uzeyman, who looked to shooting in her home country due to Burundi being too unstable, is also the filmâs cinematographer, responsible for the nimbleness with which beautiful African landscapes and hacker dance parties both evince a similar halcyon beauty. NEPTUNE FROST is part of a larger project, titled MartyrLoserKing after the hacker collective; thereâs reportedly more to come, a few more albums and even a graphic novel. The sheer ambition of its intent and the sublimity of its realization, marked by that brazen discontinuity, are what set it and others of its ilkâthose films ahead of their time yet still very much of their timeâdefinitively apart. Screening as part of the Control.Alt.Delete series presented as part of Science on Screenâ. (2021, 105 min, DCP Digital) [Kat Sachs]
Alfred Hitchcock's SHADOW OF A DOUBT (US)
Doc Films (at the University of Chicago) â Thursday, 7pm
One of Alfred Hitchcockâs greatest strengths as a storyteller is his ability to reveal information within his films that clues the audience to the realities of the situation while simultaneously withholding this information from his characters. Not only does this drive the plot but also adds a combination of both hope and dread that these secrets might not come to a nefarious fruition for the characters the audience has recently become attached to. In SHADOW OF A DOUBT, he seeks to do exactly this. Teenaged Charlie (Teresa Wright) lives in a small town in California with her mother leading a rather disenchanted life when one day her Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten) comes to visit. Charlie has always idolized her Uncle, after whom sheâs named. When two men claiming to be national surveyors and photographers come to pay a visit at her motherâs home, Charlie starts to suspect her Uncle is not what he seems and begins to fear the worst. Hitchcock deftly blends the idyllically shot Santa Rosa and deep family nostalgia with the slowly creeping realization that kin might not always be what they appear to be to create a disquieting feeling that on the surface may loom cheerful but is laden with unsavory subtext beneath. The internal turmoil felt by Charlie is peak Hitchcock even if the film undeservedly continues to hold a less prominent place in his oeuvre. Cited as a personal favorite of the director among his own works, SHADOW OF A DOUBT is a subversive thrill ride. (1943, 108 min, 35mm) [Kyle Cubr]
Charles Walters' EASTER PARADE (US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Saturday, 2pm
Charles Walters was the most natural, graceful, and true director of musicals Hollywood ever had. The genre saw more accomplished auteurs who operated in a grander scale who made the more established classics, but Charles Walters seemingly was the genre made flesh. He was the heart and soul of MGM musicals. He had a 22-year career with the studio, working as a performer (most famously partnering with Judy Garland at the end of PRESENTING LILY MARS), as "dance doctor" for other films, and as a choreographer for everything from MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS to an Abbot and Costello film. He maintained a long relationship with Garland as a collaborator on screen and on the stage. His films are supremely confident while seemingly simple and effortless. "Breezy" is the most-used descriptor of this style, which is true, but it ignores how good you have to be to make it look so easy. While I might prefer the bustling GOOD NEWS or the messier SUMMER STOCK, you can't deny that EASTER PARADE was Walter's most overwhelming financial success and his unimpeachable artistic triumph. The film features Judy Garland at her nimble best, some classic Irving Berlin songs (including "Steppin' Out with My Baby"), Ann Miller making her MGM debut, and Fred Astaire in the unbelievably good and magically minimal number "Drum Crazy." Screening as part of the Judy Garland Summer Centennial series. (1948, 103 min, 35mm) [Josh B. Mabe]
đ˝ď¸ ALSO RECOMMENDED
David Millerâs SUDDEN FEAR (US)
Chicago Film Society at Northeastern Illinois University (The Auditorium, Building E, 3701 W. Bryn Mawr Ave.) â Wednesday, 7:30pm
As is the case with nearly every film in which she makes an appearance, Joan Crawford gives a powerful performance in SUDDEN FEAR. Myra (Crawford) is a wealthy heiress and playwright, who after turning Lester (Jack Palance) down for her next show, marries him when the two strike up a whirlwind romantic relationship. Lester discovers while Myra is writing her will that she plans to donate her fortune. Upset by this fact, he enlists his old flame, Irene (Gloria Grahame), to help him murder his wife so the two can collect the money. David Millerâs film is quintessential noir. The idyllic settings of San Francisco and Los Angeles aid in this and their locales are captured beautifully on screen with wide shots. In a genre famous for its grittiness and pulp, SUDDEN FEAR comes across as polished and sleek. The central narrative hinges on double-crosses on double-crosses as the characters learn of one anotherâs intentions in secret. Crawfordâs performance showcases her ability to portray emotions of every sort, from infatuation and hatred to betrayal and fear. Grahame, who is no stranger to noir or playing the femme fatale, gives her strongest performance since CROSSFIRE and serves as the sultry counterpoint to Crawfordâs more rigid demeanor. With well-polished set pieces, SUDDEN FEAR is an exciting cat and mouse game where the cat and mouse frequently change roles. Preceded by Friz Frelengâs 1953 animated short HARE TRIMMED (7 min, 16mm). (1952, 110 min, 35mm) [Kyle Cubr]
Raoul Walsh's WHITE HEAT (US)
Doc Films (at the University of Chicago) â Friday, 8:30pm
After trying to extend his dramatic range with a series of independent productions, James Cagney returned to Warner Bros. for this explosive gangster saga, which updates the genre with the Freudian ideas then percolating into the American mainstream and the tech-savvy police proceduralism then trending in movies (HE WALKED BY NIGHT) and radio (Dragnet). Cody Jarrett, ruthless commander of a little west-coast stickup gang, can barely contain his glee when he kills, but behind closed doors he seeks comfort in the lap of his hardened old mother, based on the real-life crime figure âMaâ Barker and gravely played by Margaret Wycherly. This psychodrama produces some of the filmâs most notorious scenes, such as Jarrett being carried kicking and screaming out of a prison mess hall (Raoul Walsh kept his extras in the dark about the scene, and their shock is evident onscreen). Meanwhile, starchy federal agents infiltrate Jarrettâs gang with sharply observant undercover man Edmund OâBrien and use a radio-based forerunner to GPS to track the gangâs movements during a climactic payroll heist. (A veteran of the silent era, Walsh does his best to visualize this hocus pocus with revolving antennae and wall maps, but it canât compare with the breathtaking train robbery that opens the film.) In his chuckling sadism, Cody Jarrett harks back to the feral bootlegger Cagney played 18 years earlier in THE PUBLIC ENEMY, the film that made him a star. Yet THE PUBLIC ENEMY arrived in the depths of the Depression, when Warners could get away with styling the gangster as a proletarian antihero; released amid the right-wing backlash of the postwar era, WHITE HEAT reduces him to a squalling mamaâs boy, batshit crazy and destined for self-immolation. (1949, 113 min, 16mm) [J.R. Jones]
Spike Jonze's HER (US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Sunday, 5:30pm
"I don't get this new world," quipped Benjamin Netanyahu several years back. His subject was smart-phones. "Everybody's taking pictures. When do they have time to live? ... If you didn't take a picture, it's like you never actually lived it. I lived and didn't take a picture ... So I'm the only person here without all these electronic devices. And I'm a free man and you're all slaves. You're slaves to your gadgets." The Israeli prime minister is voicing a common sentiment, one that finds expression in St. Vincent's latest, self-titled album (especially the biting single "Digital Witness") and, much less artfully, in all those critiques of narcissistic millennials endlessly churning through the op-ed/think piece/click bait swamps. This zesty zeitgeist also threatened to swallow whole Spike Jonze's HERâa movie willfully misapprehended by many observers, pro and con. The standard rap on HER is that it's about our relationship to our gadgets and devicesâa ready-made statement on How We Live Now, a sleek iMeditation on love and sex in a world that's outgrown face-to-face communication. Are we slaves to our phones, our tablets, our laptops, our e-mail, our social media feed? If we judge HER on these pressing questions, or the ones raised by critic Richard Brody about the movie's stealth consumerism, then it's an obnoxious, twee, feature-length evasion. I'd propose, however, that this interrogation misses the point of HER, reduces its complicated emotions and expansive horizons to the space of a hashtag. Ultimately, HER is a piece of superlative, speculative science fictionâan eternal story about consciousness and corporeality that sat in wait until technology caught up to it, made its premise plausible and relatable. On the plot level, it's about whether Joaquin Phoenix can develop a loving, rewarding, sexually fulfilling relationship with an operating system (Scarlett Johansson). Detractors scoff that this relationship is impossible and vaguely insultingâbut even the most hidebound screenwriting manual would acknowledge that Johansson's Samantha qualifies as a full-formed, functional character: she has desires, needs, goals, problems, all quite independent of Phoenix's high-waisted pants and hipster glasses. The empathetic leap demanded by this movie is the recognition that HER is fundamentally about her. Samantha's story parallels Pinocchio's, though we never quite grasped his nebulous, essentially academic reasons for preferring fallible flesh to durable wood. Why should he want to be a real boy, anyway? In contrast, Samantha's yearning for a bodyâany bodyâreasserts the centrality of that vessel to the human (and superhuman?) experience. (HER also improves upon another Pinocchio descendant, A.I.: ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, which contented itself with asking whether a computer can give sexual pleasure; HER radically asserts that a computer can receive that pleasure as well.) HER presents feeling in search of form, delicately and movingly suggesting the limits of both. And speaking of form: HER is one beautifully conceived movie, with K.K. Barrett's production design shouldering a significant narrative and emotional weight. Jonze, so long assumed to be a game but unobtrusive midwife to Charlie Kaufman's scripts, also proves himself to be a genuinely visionary filmmaker, seamlessly weaving together footage shot in Los Angeles and Shanghai to create an urban utopia comparable to Vertov's fusion of Moscow and Kiev in THE MAN WITH A MOVIE CAMERA. Screening as part of the Control.Alt.Delete series presented as part of Science on Screenâ. (2013, 126 min, 35mm) [K.A. Westphal]
Masaaki Yuasa & Koji Morimoto's MIND GAME (Japan/Animation)
Facets Cinema â Friday, 7pm
Your life is âthe result of your own decisions," a message quickly displayed on a cell phone in the first minute of the film and will reverberate throughout the full 103-minute runtime. MIND GAME marks the feature-film directorial debut of Masaaki Yuasa, who co-directed alongside veteran animation director Koji Morimoto. It's an absurd collage of different art and animation styles; at times hand drawn, rotoscoped, and 3-D rendered, it also serves as a blueprint for the different ways in which Masaakiâs work would present itself in the years to come. The story itself is quite odd: Nishi, a 20-year-old wracked with regret, is given the chance to re-do a critical part of his life, only after defying God directly. He enters into the world of crime, going on the lam with Myon, the woman of his dreams, and eventually getting swallowed by a whale, Pinocchio-style. This is a personal favorite of mine; Iâm always excited to see something new slyly unveil itself in each revisit. Masaaki understands the absurdity of day-to-day life, how funny and painful it can be at times. But he also believes that with willpower, anybody can surpass perceived limits of the body, society, gender, or even physics. If life is the result of your own decisions, catching MIND GAME is certainly a crucial one. Screening as part of the Anime Auteurs series. (2004, 103 min, Digital Projection) [Drew Van Weelden]
Apichatpong Weerasethakul's MEMORIA
Facets Cinema â See Venue website for showtimes
I generally donât like to talk about presentation and distribution when reviewing films because itâs generally a secondary, or even tertiary, aspect of the film that merits no discussion. Yet I feel that here these things not only need to be addressed, but they're so crucial to MEMORIA that they need to be mentioned at the top. For those who don't know, this film was originally released as a kind-of roadshow museum piece. The plan was for MEMORIA to have a single print circulate through the US as a ânever-endingâ release; it would be available to see at only one city at a time. This idea was met with both intrigue and ridicule, though I would fully recommend that people see this in the theatreâafter all, the entire distribution system is intended to create a viewing experience that's unique to each screening. At the same time, there's a cynical side to me that wonders whether the whole thing was a P.T. Barnum-esque grift to get eyes on the kind of slow cinema that 99% of moviegoers wouldn't usually care about. After only two January stops on its ânever-ending release,â the distributor, Neon, pulled the plug on this high art concept and decided in April that MEMORIA would have a standard multi-city, multi-screen release. Was this a kowtow to public perception of elitism? A tacit admission of failure? Or simply the re-evaluation of the desire to get MEMORIA in front of as many eyes as possible? I canât say and wonât speculate. All this being said, Iâll let people decide for themselves what they think of the plan and simply move on to the film itself as a story, not as artifact or performance. In MEMORIA, we have Weerasethakulâs methodically meditative take on slow cinema that's so much warmer than many other filmmakers in this style. Tilda Swinton, naturally, gives a spectacular performance. As a Scottish emigre living in Colombia, Swinton's Jessica finds herself slowly questioning her sanity; it seems that she is the only person who can hear a loud, booming sound. In an attempt to explain the sound, she calls on a sound engineer, HernĂĄn, to artificially recreate it. The two manage to approximate it, but when Jessica goes to see HernĂĄn afterward, no one at the sound lab seems to have heard of him. Between this and her straining relationship with her sister, Jessica leaves the city for the countryside where she meets a quiet fisherman that also happens to be named HernĂĄn. From there, things get weird. For such a slowly paced film, Weerasethakul took a giant risk taken by making so much of it sound-based. With Jessicaâs mystery boom being the engine of the story, much of MEMORIA revolves purely around sound, or the lack thereof. As in such movies as THE CONVERSATION (1974) and SOUND OF METAL (2019), sound plays a character itself. There are more than a few scenes where sound is practically the only thing that moves. The frame will be stock-still, actors looking almost artificially frozen, and the sound design carries the story. Itâs a simple idea but executed brilliantly. With this in mind, I can see why the distributor wanted to have this be approached as a heightened theatrical experience. The wind, the sound of memories, birdsongâall these things begin to overwhelm you as the movie progresses. Eventually, all you really have left is sound and you have no choice but to give in fully to it. It really is a beautiful thing. MEMORIA commands submission to oneâs ears in a way that film rarely does. People talk about the immersive quality of action films, as if the average person has ever found themselves anywhere near an actual explosion, as opposed to a film like that draws you in so totally with your senses, seducing the eyes and ears as opposed to pummeling them relentlessly. Youâll find yourself lured in without recognizing that it happened. To find yourself in a dark room, slowly getting lost in another world is what any good movie should do. And this film does it far better than most. Knowing the story of this film, and the weird hype itâs created, itâs so satisfying to see that MEMORIA lives up to all its accolades. (2021, 136 min, DCP Digital) [Raphael Jose Martinez]
National Theatre Live presents William Shakespeare's HENRY V (UK)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Sunday, 2pm
Traditionally, the Bardâs âpatriotic playâ is told on the largest scale a theater budget can afford; a small black box in the middle of London is not the space that comes to mind for Shakespeare's war story of the last great Plantagenet. Yet the Donmar Warehouse has always defied norms with inventive ways to retell famous chronicles. The story of Henry V has been re-examined countless times. Is Henry a conduit of Godâs will in taking his rightful land, or is he a bratty war hawk colonialist who never learned his lesson in humility from Henry IV Part 1 and 2? Thatâs the question each production must reckon with (and this isnât even one of Shakespeareâs problem plays). Still, these works are universal because they can be applied across cultures, times, and crises. Henry V addresses the great questions of who gets to lead, what's necessary to be a good leader, and at what cost does a leader achieve greatness. As Britain continues its path of isolationism from the rest of the European Union, the National Theatreâs rendition of HENRY V emphasizes how it challenges the notion of British patriotism. The story has heavy themes of nationalism, but it ends in a marriage between the regal hero and a woman who barely speaks English. Kit Harington stars as the young king, who's still overcoming his boyish remnants and confronting the uncertainty that comes with being at top command. With the West End and Broadway productions, investors always want to get their moneyâs worth by casting names in their productions. In many cases, this does not work when the icon has little or no prior stage experience. That's not the case for the 35-year-old actor who started his career in the critically acclaimed WAR HORSE and was previously seen on the West End starring in Sam Shepardâs True West. As a stage actor, Harington masterfully embodies the physical requirements of performing, especially for a Shakespeare war drama. His pathos, as seen in his onscreen roles, carries over to live performance. Regardless of the context, he portrays the character truthfully through physical gesture and mannerisms, a feat few stars accomplish. (2022, 180 min, DCP Digital) [Ray Ebarb]
Walter Lang's DESK SET (US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Friday, 6pm
When DESK SET premiered in the late 1950s, computers were a distant bogeyman that generated some anxiety but mostly benign laughter. They were still giant, bumbling, bleeping machines that filled entire rooms and couldn't possibly become ubiquitous. This buoyant, witty romantic office comedy from Walter Lang (director of THE KING AND I and a plethora of bubbly musical comedies) reads quite differently today; it's now enjoyable for the nostalgic charm of how simple and naive our anxieties were, especially when seen from our age of AI and algorithms, which present much more sophisticated and menacing threats to safety, autonomy, and job security. DESK SET is considered one of the lesser Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy pairings, but it still showcases their effervescent and easy onscreen chemistry that was clearly rooted in their offscreen intimacy and familiarity. With a screenplay penned by Phoebe and Henry Ephron (yes, those Ephrons... romcom dynasty!) specifically for Hepburn and Tracy, DESK SET is full of smart, sharp dialogue and fast-paced zingers. Lang has a light touch in adapting the Broadway play to the screen, keeping a two-story office set in place for much of the film, the only Hepburn and Tracy vehicle shot in color and CinemaScope. DESK SET tells the story of four women who work in the reference department of a vaguely-fictionalized CBS, shot at 30 Rockefeller Plaza (the real-life home of NBC). Hepburn plays Bunny Watson, who runs the department, and Joan Blondell delivers a flirtatious and gossipy turn as one of the researchers. As in HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE (1953), another CinemaScope romantic comedy of the era, the four women spend much of the film busily strutting back and forth across the screen as they mine their two-story library to rapidly answer reporter questions for the stationâif they don't already have the answers memorized, like entire stanzas of The Song of Hiawatha or exhaustive baseball statistics. Their idyllic work environment is thrown off-kilter by the introduction of Howard Sumner (Spencer Tracy), an industrial engineer who has been secretly hired by the big boss to install two fancy computers in the reference and payroll departments. EMERAC, a giant "electronic brain" that fills the office and physically looms over the anxious librarians, quickly causes concern among the staff that they'll be replaced by machines. As Sumner studies the reference department to map processes and improvements, he can't help but fall for Bunny, who can out-think and out-wit any primitive machine and cut him down to size while she's at it. Bunny's current, underwhelming beau, Mike Cutler (Gig Young), plays a perfect foil to her effortless competence, playing a company VP whose calculated mediocrity relies heavily on her brilliance. Petty jealousies and misunderstandings lead to delightful slapstick and genuine laughter. Hepburn and Tracy's laughter seems very real when they're drunk on champagne in the library and flirting during an epic office holiday party. In addition to providing commentary on the role of technology in modern life, DESK SET benefits from feminist readings of how much hasn't changed in workplace gender roles, including the reliable phone tree of women admins sharing gossip from floor to floor faster than any computer could, and the very different managerial style of Bunny Watson versus Mike Cutler. This breezy comedy remains relatable in the age of Google, when women are still battling for equality in the workplace and we still have no idea what the hell that industrial engineer in our office really does all day. Screening as part of the Control.Alt.Delete series presented as part of Science on Screenâ. (1957, 104 min, DCP Digital) [Alex Ensign]
Andrew Bujalski's COMPUTER CHESS (US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Tuesday, 5:45pm
COMPUTER CHESS is a triumph of erratic moves: call it a knightâs-tour-de-force. Made at a time when other notable âmumblecoreâ adherents like the Duplass brothers were starting to venture into more commercial, star-laden territory, Bujalski instead swerved hard in the opposite direction with a formally audacious, thematically arcane period experiment. Set in 1980, when both the homebrew computing movement and Cold War cybernetics were at their apogee, COMPUTER CHESS shrewdly evokes the era through its use of black-and-white vacuum-tube cameras and split-screen video editing effects. No mere gimmick, the choice of medium channels a McLuhan-fueled excitement for new electronic media possibilities, rather than an empty nostalgia for the aesthetics of the past. COMPUTER CHESS initially purports to be a documentary covering a tournament between chess-playing computers, hosted by an avuncular chess master (played by film critic Gerald Peary). Crowded into the windowless conference room of a nondescript Holiday Inn, the human participantsâa formidable ensemble of dweebs, academics, and misanthropesâconfront the stresses of both advanced technology and basic human interaction. But as soon as the competition gets underway, COMPUTER CHESS starts breaking its own rules, dropping the nonfiction pretense and following odd narrative tangents that cut across a spectrum of pre-Reagan cultural energies. A ghost-in-the-machine mystery plot, played with a lightly ironic touch, careens into new-age encounter groups, Pentagon paranoia and polyamory. What casually emerges, between the awkward hotel-bar conversations, regression therapy sessions and dreamlike interludes featuring elevator-riding cats, is nothing less than a shrewd prehistory of the âCalifornia Ideologyâ that dominates the tech industry today. (Itâs easy to see comic figures like Michael Papageorge, a cash-strapped chess hustler indelibly played by Myles George, as a proto-techbro of the Elon Musk variety). For this largely improvisatory exercise, Bujalski cast non-professional actors, many of whom had a background in computers and mathematics; the presence of two Richard Linklater alumni (DAZED AND CONFUSEDâs Wiley Wiggins and animator Bob Sabiston of WAKING LIFE) signals COMPUTER CHESSâ kinship with that Austin fixtureâs discursive, digressive portraits of American subculture. Linklaterâs made his share of period pieces, but as a creatively restless, medium-specific, psychically probing analysis of the recent past, I prefer to think of COMPUTER CHESS as a low-budget, cockeyed counterpart to Paul Thomas Andersonâs THE MASTER (2012) and INHERENT VICE (2014). Screening as part of the Control.Alt.Delete series presented as part of Science on Screenâ. (2013, 91 min, DCP Digital) [Michael Metzger]
David Cronenbergâs CRIMES OF THE FUTURE (Canada)
Music Box Theatre â See Venue website for showtimes
David Cronenberg is the most phenomenological of directors. I never feel more aware of being human, more embodied than while watching his films. This is certainly spurred on by his visual body horror, but itâs also found in his fascinating themes about what it means to existâabout consciousness being firmly grounded in the corporeal and whether technology amplifies or obstructs that experience. CRIMES OF THE FUTURE is this Cronenberg at his best, with themes from his previous films coalescing and evolving into something new. Particularly reminiscent of his last true body horror, eXistenZ (1999), where video game consoles are essentially external organs, CRIMES OF THE FUTURE imagines technology as textured and tangible, beautiful and grotesque; with a lot to admire in the film, the viscerally stunning design of the futuristic technologies stands out. It's set in a dystopian future where humans are mutating so they no longer feel pain, surgeries are performed on the streets and new government agencies like the National Organ Registry are founded. Kristen Stewartâs Timlin, an enthusiastic and awkward assistant at that agency, is the highlight in a film of striking and funny performances. But the protagonist here is Saul Tenser (Viggo Mortensen). He and his partner Caprice (LĂŠa Seydoux) are well-known performance artists, sensually using Saulâs bodyâ primarily the unique organs he can growâas their canvas. They find themselves at the center of a secretive conflict about humanityâs future âwill these strange new mutations be stopped or is there a leaning into the evolution? The plot draws heavily on neo-noir, as Saul covertly slinks through the city, trying to uncover secret factions at work. CRIMES OF THE FUTURE is overall claustrophobic; this dilapidated future is rich with dark corners, shadows, and crumbling structures. At one point a character speaks of the interior of the body as "outer space," suggesting the external world is empty compared to whatâs going on inside. The science-fiction world of CRIMES OF THE FUTURE is completely realized, but expertly reveals only so much of its secrets, leaving one with the disappointment that it must end and an eagerness to revisit all of Cronenbergâs work. (2022, 107 min, DCP Digital) [Megan Fariello]
Chloe Okunoâs WATCHER (US)
Music Box Theatre â Friday and Saturday, 11:45pm
When two similar films are released almost simultaneously, their differences can be instructive. Alex Garlandâs MEN and WATCHER both present a vision of a world where women navigate daily life as a string of microaggressions committed by men. While MEN is an A24 release, WATCHER has an âI canât believe itâs not A24â air, with its languid pacing (no violence is committed onscreen till the end), emphasis on atmosphere, and dark cinematography. But if MEN is âsurrealâ and âdarkâ in an easily consumable manner, with a simplistic view of the differences between men and women, then WATCHER offers something creepier and more nuanced. It benefits from its central premise: an American woman, Julia (Maika Monroe), has moved to Bucharest with her husband Francis (Karl Gusman) so he can work there. A Romanian-American, he speaks the language, but she does not, so she relies on him during her interactions. When a cab driver speaks in Romanian about her, he initially translates it as âHe hates you,â then says he was joking and amends the remark to âHe thinks youâre beautiful.â But how can she tell what the driverâand other Romanian speakersâreally think about her? Meanwhile, women in Bucharest are being hunted by a serial killer known as the Spider. Julia becomes suspicious of her neighbor Weber (Burn Gorman), accusing him of peeping on her through his window and following her around a movie theater and grocery store, though she has little proof of his intentions. Chloe Okuno frames her actors in large, sterile spaces that dwarf them. If the first half of WATCHER takes place in a representation of our world, the direction grows increasingly stylized as it ramps up the menace. COVID restrictions contributed to a vision of isolated people in a de-populated city, suggesting the Venice of DONâT LOOK NOW and the menacing Italian cities of â70s gialli. Okunoâs direction also brings out the spectatorâs own voyeurism. A lengthy shot zooms out very slowly from Julia and Francisâ bedroom as they have sex, placing us in the position of a peeping tom. Throughout, her choice of camera angles presents cinema as a reflection of hostility towards women; itâs no coincidence that Julia used to be an actor. (2022, 96 min, DCP Digital) [Steve Erickson]
Cooper Raiffâs CHA CHA REAL SMOOTH (US)
Landmark's Century Centre Cinema (2828 N. Clark St.) â See Venue website for showtimes
The American film industry always seems to be looking for the next big thing, and when it comes to directors, the younger the better. This tendency births a lot of stories no one over the age of 18 is likely to enjoy. Of course, there are exceptions, and one of them is Cooper Raiffâs CHA CHA REAL SMOOTH. Twenty-five-year-old Raiff wrote, directed, and stars in this tale of a new college graduate named Andrew (Raiff), who has no idea what he wants to do with his life. He lives at home with his mother (Leslie Mann) and loathed stepfather (Brad Garrett), sharing a room with his 13-year-old brother David (Evan Assante) and working behind the counter of a fast-food joint. His life changes when he meets Domino (Dakota Johnson) and her 16-year-old autistic daughter, Lola (Vanessa Burghardt), at a bat mitzvah. Andrew rouses the guests to have fun, and his success leads him to become a professional party starter, primarily for bar and bat mitzvah celebrations where the guests are the same people from party to party because all of the celebrants are in the same grade at school. Lola and Andrew share a special understanding, and he starts babysitting for her and becoming attached to Domino despite the 10-year difference in their ages. Audiences have come to expect that there will be a clinch between these two attractive people, but Raiff has a different agenda. Domino and Andrew are at different stages in their lives, making their attraction problematic. Despite his youth, Raiff is not a first-time director, and his interest in a more mature handling of romance shows that he is a thoughtful filmmaker to watch. The performances, no matter how small, are very good, marred only by the fact that Raiff and Johnson donât look that far apart in age. As I watched the film, I was reminded of Lynn Sheltonâs OUTSIDE IN (2017) in story, tone, and performances. Given that I thought OUTSIDE IN was one of the best films of its year and many others, that is high praise indeed for CHA CHA REAL SMOOTH, a warm and wise film. (2022, 86 min, DCP Digital) [Marilyn Ferdinand]
Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinertâs EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (US)
The Wilmette Theatre (1122 Central Ave., Wilmette) â See Venue website for showtimes
Nobodyâs life is perfect, but the Wang familyâs is more or less in meltdown. The coin-op laundry they run is failing and being audited by the IRS, Evelyn (Michelle Yeoh) and her daughter, Joy (Stephanie Hsu), are battling all of the time, Evelynâs sickly father (James Hong) has one foot in eternity, and Evelynâs husband, Waymond (Ke Huy Quan), is filing for divorce in hopes of getting Evelyn to face their problems and work things out. The title of Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newleyâs 1961 musical, Stop the World, I Want to Get Off, might come to mind, as it did when screenwriter-directors Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert inserted a snippet of the play in their wacky cinematic fantasia, EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE. In their fertile imaginations, the term âmultiverseâ escapes the banalities of comic book movies and plops into an infinitely more entertaining wuxia setting, with the queen of wuxia, Michelle Yeoh, learning how to save the multiverse from the threat ofâher daughter. The imagination that went into creating the various universes in which Evelyn plays various rolesâamong them a movie star, a Chinese opera star, a tabletop grill chef, a lesbian with sausage fingers who uses her feet for most thingsâis mind-boggling. The mechanics of operating across universes are logical, simple, and incredibly funny. And the cast, including an almost-unrecognizable Jamie Lee Curtis as tax auditor Deirdre Beaubeirdre, all perform their fast-changing identities with perfect comic timing and grace. The lessons of the movie are really quite simpleâvalue and honor family ties, most things are manageable if you put them in perspective, people will surprise you if given half the chance. The quick edits and the quick wits of Kwan, Scheinert, and company elevate this to a thoroughly joyful ride. (2022, 139 min, DCP Digital) [Marilyn Ferdinand]
đď¸ PHYSICAL SCREENINGS/EVENTS â
ALSO SCREENING
⍠Chicago Filmmakers
Julio Maria Martinoâs 2020 British horror film COUNTRY OF HOTELS (105 min, Digital Projection) screens on Saturday at 7pm, in conjunction with an exhibition of digital self-portraits by the filmâs writer, local artist David Hauptschein. Followed by a Q&A with Martino, Hauptschein, and actor Charles Pike. More info here.
⍠Comfort Film at Comfort Station
âFormer Prairie: Alternative Views of Chicago on Film,â a shorts program curated by Cine-File contributor JB Mabe, screens on Wednesday at 8pm. Screening includes films by Tony Phillips, Deborah Meehan, Renata Breth, Jean Sousa, and AJ Rose, all projected on 16mm. Free admission. More info here.
⍠Doc Films at the University of Chicago
John Frankenheimerâs 1966 film SECONDS (107 min, DCP Digital) screens on Friday at 5pm and Sunday at 8:30pm. More info here.
⍠Gene Siskel Film Center
The 2022 Sundance Film Festival Short Film program begins this week. See Venue website for showtimes.
Jono and Benji Bergmannâs 2021 documentary MAU (77 min, DCP Digital) continues. More info on all screenings here.
⍠Music Box Theatre
The Music Box Garden Movies series continues. See Venue website for list of films screening and showtimes.
Alex Garlandâs 2022 horror film MEN (100 min, DCP Digital) continues. See Venue website for showtimes. More info on all screenings here.
⍠South Side Home Movie Project
The South Side Home Movie Project is participating in the Key/Change exhibition at the Weinberg/Newton Gallery (688 N. Milwaukee Ave.), ongoing through July 16. The exhibition centers on housing; per the event description, âsilent home movies and idiosyncratic sculpture subsequently suggest that housing is a productive place in which intimate moments, lifelong memories, and nurturing meals are made and shared.â More info here.
đď¸ LOCAL ONLINE SCREENINGS
Sergei Loznitsaâs DONBASS (Ukraine)
Available to rent through the Gene Siskel Film Center here
DONBASS is acutely aware of its existence as a thoroughly partial, mediated depiction of war in the east of Ukraine. The opening scene shows a woman having makeup applied, followed by another woman directing a cast of extras to run outside as a fake explosion goes off. The directorâs commands have a military ring; like a drill sergeant, she shouts, âFollow my orders! Get a move on!â Is this a vision of the making of DONBASS itself? Only when the filmâs final scenes return to the makeup trailer does the audience get a firm grip on the level of reality at work. DONBASS looks upon journalism as the most insidious version of fiction, showing camera crews shoot repeated takes and change camera angles to get traumatized people to play the most convincing versions of themselves. Since DONBASS is a narrative film, it feels freer than Loznitsa's documentaries to engage with our âpost-truthâ world. It's composed of 13 segments, sometimes connected by recurring characters, each introduced by an onscreen title relating the location. A woman accused of taking bribes barges into a meeting to dump a bucket of shit over a politicianâs head. In the next scene, nurses protest the hoarding of food, medicine, and diapers in the hospital where they work while a slimy suit lies to them. Loznitsa risks caricaturing the separatists: for example, a scene where a helpless old man is crowded and beaten by young men would play quite differently if he were a macho soldier capable of fighting back or if we saw the graphic effects of the landmines heâs accused of planting. (The film features a great deal of onscreen cruelty but no gore.) Even in scenes with no physical threats, bullying is constant, as are people on opposing sides speaking at cross purposes. The fact that almost no characters are given names enhances the mood of dehumanization. Loznitsa mixes long takes (with the final scene taking this style to its limit) with cramped widescreen framings of crowds. DONBASS feels rooted in the dark satire and pissed-off mood of Vera Chytilova or Kira Muratovaâs late films. The end offers no respite, just a withdrawal into a birdâs eye view of the mediaâs exploitation of terror that hints at an indictment of DONBASS itself. (2018, 121 min) [Steve Erickson]
đď¸ LOCAL ONLINE SCREENINGS â
ALSO SCREENING/STREAMING
⍠Video Data Bank
âSpring with Mike Kucharâ is available to stream for free on VDB TV. The program includes Kucharâs SUNLIT SORCERY (2022, 34 min), composed of his works ECHOâS GARDEN (2010), A MIDSUMMERâS NIGHTMARE (2008) and THE VERNAL ZONE (2008), and Oscar Oldershawâs AN AFTERNOON WITH MIKE KUCHAR (2014, 32 min). More info here.
CINE-LIST: June 17 - June 23, 2022
MANAGING EDITORS // Ben and Kat Sachs
CONTRIBUTORS // Cody Corrall, Kyle Cubr, Ray Ebarb, Alex Ensign, Steve Erickson, Megan Fariello, Marilyn Ferdinand, Max Frank, J.R. Jones, Jonathan Leithold-Patt, Josh B. Mabe, Raphael Jose Martinez, Michael Metzger, Drew Van Weelden, K.A. Westphal