Sunday, November 19, 2017

November's Sunday Corner With Lee Liberman: BLACK SAILS

What’s to be done with the unwanted ones, 
the men who do not fit, 
whom civilization must prune from the vine 
to protect it’s sense of itself? 
Every culture since earliest antiquity 
has defined itself by the things it excludes. 
As long as there is progress, 
there will be human debris in its wake…
Sooner or later one must answer the question: 
what becomes of them? 
In London the solution is to call them criminals 
and throw them in a deep dark hole. 
I would argue that justice demands 
we do better than that; 
that a civilization is judged not by whom it excluded 
but how it treats the excluded. 
(Chapter xxxviii) 

An unexpectedly original, ambitious, and close-up look at piracy during its heyday, BLACK SAILS (on demand at STARZ) is a prequel to Robert Louis Stevenson’s famous novel “Treasure Island”. The series is set in early 1700’s Bahamas ahead of Stevenson’s yarn and winds down with the burial and abandonment of a fabulous cache on ‘Treasure Island’s mysterious Skeleton Island. Fictional characters from the novel mix with real pirates of history to make the colorful and mostly entertaining tale spun by co-creator’s Jonathan E. Steinberg and Robert Levine (l and r, below).

I emphasize ‘mostly’ because the show-runners did not get a grip on the story until season two. The project’s attachment to producer Michael Bay’s first TV project (he of Armageddon, Pearl Harbor, and Transformers blockbuster riches) likely enticed STARZ to approve four seasons even though season one was a dud. (New Yorker critic David Denby called Bay “stunningly, almost viciously untalented”, to which Bay is reported to have replied: “I make movies for teenage boys. Oh dear, what a crime.”)

But never mind — Black Sails’ fanbase was rapturous and went beyond teenage boys. After season one, the writers developed a thought-provoking narrative surprising for an action series. Set in a pirate milieu we know most through myth and fable, we find the machinations of the colonial powers, the slave trade, and a community of maroons (slave escapees) who are hidden away from island civic life with lethal ways of staying hid, their own rituals and hierarchy.

There are plenty of invigorating ship battles, land skirmishes, personal conflict, and roiled forces of nature photographed so intimately you can feel the sea boil and the sun parch. But the action derives its thrills not from adventure but because you have become engrossed in the lives of the characters, acted by a terrific cast hailing from at least six countries.

The theme of Black Sails is a tug of war over Nassau between colonial Britain and rebel pirate desires for a haven of their own. The pirates hoped to make their new world not just an extension of the old but autonomous and free — pirate havens were early democracies before the great powers got around to them, organized to provide as much individual liberty and equality as possible. Here, their collective self-government grows into a collaboration between maroons and pirates, the former adding their numbers to throw at British and Spanish military who sought to quell slaves and hang pirates. One rides out this narrative knowing the rebels are doomed — the pirate heyday will last just a few decades, after which international piracy laws and military presence will end their golden era. 

The first season involves pirate pursuit of the Urca, a Spanish galleon carrying a vast treasure, adventure that deserved no more than a couple of episodes. The booty remains at issue among the Spanish, British, and pirates from series start to finish, eventually ending up on Skeleton Island, respectfully teed up to mesh seamlessly with Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel. One character, Eleanor Guthrie (Hannah New), who fenced pirated goods and managed commerce in Nassau’s pirate haven, lurches between wanting Nassau to be self-governed, and coming to embrace new British Governor, Woodes Rogers (Luke Roberts), first as his captive, as a means to this end (Ms New and Roberts are shown below).

Woodes Rogers was a (real) Brit who inherited his family shipping business, became a sea captain and was appointed Governor of the Bahamas twice, eventually establishing order, although (accurately) Black Sails leaves him bankrupt and defeated after his first stint on the job. His assignments as governor grew out of the rise of armies in Europe whose missions included stamping out piracy because it disrupted commerce and the slave trade.

The pirate response to colonial corruption led them to evolve their own self-management. (‘Every man has a vote in affairs of moment…’) Among them were refugees from persecution and sailors experienced in navel warfare seeking employment. According to Pirate Captain Bartholomew Roberts (1682-1722), there are low wages and hard labour in an honest service, while the life of a pirate offers reward and liberty.

Among the pirates in Black Sails’ fictional world are Stevenson creations Long John Silver (Luke Arnold), Billy Bones (Tom Hopper) and Captain Flint (Toby Stephens), shown above, from left.

More major players were pirates who did exist such as Charles Vane (above, far r) created by the unexpectedly magnetic Zack McGowan. Vane was a protégé of Edward Teach — more famously known as Blackbeard (at right) played by Ray Stevenson.

Also real, was the dandyish, erudite Captain Jack Rackham (Toby Schmitz) who produced the famous skull and crossed swords flag and contemplates his legacy: “It’s the art that leaves the mark; it must transcend.” (Writer J. Steinberg comments: his piece of artwork will outlive him and all of us.)

Rackham’s brooding pirate lover, Anne Bonny (the very good Clara Paget) is shown below, with Vane and Rackham.

Flint, however, is the impresario, carrying this saga on his steely frame. Toby Stevens has the same upright bearing of his mother, Maggie Smith, in her portrayal of Violet, Countess of Grantham of Downton Abbey. Their show of determined obstinacy and resemblance is marked.

Flint owns Black Sails, yet is unknowable. Our interest in him, beyond observing his ferocity and genius for leadership, develops in season two when his backstory begins to unspool slowly in flashback culminating in episode 2.5. We see him in early career as affable young Lieutenant James McGraw, assigned in 1705 as naval liaison to the Hamiltons in London —the elder Hamilton an earl and son Thomas a member of Parliament, whose wife Miranda (Louise Barnes) is penetrating, wise, and lovely. Thomas Hamilton (Rupert Penry-Jones) wants to assemble a colony on Nassau, install an honest governor, and most notably, grant full pardons to the pirates — a scheme that is anathema to his father, the earl. (Below, from l, Miranda, Thomas Hamilton, James McGraw.)

McGraw slowly embraces the reform idea and comes to admire Thomas’s idealism. (Miranda says: you can recognize a great man by his relentless pursuit of a better world.) She knowingly seduces McGraw into an affair with both herself and her husband. The elder Hamilton gets wind of it, and uses their ‘disgrace’ to thwart the despised plan. Thomas is confined to an institution or dead; Miranda and McGraw are permitted to vanish. They go to Nassau where he morphs into his Ahab-like Captain Flint and they share a home when he’s not pirating.

We now see that Flint’s rage at being designated a non-person because of his love for a man has driven him headlong into a relentless career getting even with the establishment. McGraw’s naval mentor, Hennessy, when dismissing him from service, intones: “Every man has his flaws but not this, it is too profane.” Later Miranda insists he is ‘fighting to fight’ always in the midst of violence and danger to forget his shame over having loved Thomas.

Flint channels his remaining bits of humanity into a working relationship with John Silver, an ingenious fellow who loses his leg during the series (and gains the ‘Long’) but is more than Flint’s equal in getting his way. Together they become an unparalleled team and defeat Woodes Rogers at sea, ending his first governorship of Nassau. Silver orchestrates an agreement between the pirates and the maroons (he has fallen in love with the queenly Madi). And there’s an improbable series end for Flint, as Silver both drives him out of piracy and devises a heart-rending rescue for him (bottom image).

As the tale progresses, much relationship deepening and fracturing increases the series' addictiveness along with stunning sea action sequences and absorbing visits to Cuba (run by Spain) and several American colonies. We grow with Max, (Jessica Parker Kennedy, below) a beautiful, mixed-race prostitute who loves women and climbs her own ladder of power. Hannah New’s Eleanor Guthrie fares less well. This is New’s second major role, following the Spanish series “The Time In Between” (Netflix) in which, speaking fluent Spanish, she was lovely. Here, she has unconvincing ‘badass’ moments in which too many “f—k” swears make her less not more so. She is too much of a nurturer for this part. However the excellence of the ensemble as a whole and the increasing urgency of the story arc once underway does not leave the viewer wanting.

If adventure is your thing, thoughtful revelations about race, love, and power in the context of chaos and competition among players will be a bonus. If you normally shun the adventure genre, you will find much here to satisfy your need for deeper material once you slog through (or better, skip almost all) season one. The Flint/Silver relationship especially takes you into their power struggle, willingness to kill each other, and well of genuine caring that matures through the seasons. Black Sails was filmed in Cape Town, South Africa (on a set and with ships just repurposed by Outlander for its voyage to/in the Bahamas during the late 1760’s, debuting now on STARZ).

Each episode opens with a smashing musical theme by Bear McCreary (also the music director for Outlander) using the hurdy-gurdy to striking effect; it accompanies a spectacular series of computer-generated alabaster and bronze pirate sculptures inspired by Rodin, Bernini, and anonymous carvings found on ships, crypts, and gravestones in Baroque, Gothic, and Rococo style. Watch this.

The above post was written by our 
monthly correspondent, Lee Liberman.

Friday, November 17, 2017

Nicole Garcia's old-fashioned love-story-plus-twist, FROM THE LAND OF THE MOON, on DVD

Some of us will watch Marion Cotillard in just about anything, but don't worry: You won't have to lower  your standards much to find one of her latest endeavors, FROM THE LAND OF THE MOON, worth your time.

This old-fashioned-with-a-twist love story, set a half-century back, is well-acted, -written and -directed, even if it does ask you to accept one whopper of an imagining by it's protagonist. But then, l'amour fou can do that, don't you think?

As directed and co-written by French actor and filmmaker Nicole Garcia (shown at left), the movie is beautiful to view and rather fun to consider, both as it is moving along and post-viewing, too.

Adapted from the novel by Milena Agus, the film takes place in France, Switzerland and Spain and stars Ms Cotillard, Louis Garrel and Alex Brendemühl. Visually and talent-wise, what's not to like?

Each actor acquits her/himself well, and the cinematography (by Christophe Beaucrane) is generally entrancing and always varied, as we travel from the French farming countryside for a rest-cure in Switzerland and eventually to sunny, coastal Spain.

Ms Cotillard (above) plays a physically and emotionally problemed character named Gabrielle, forced by her mother into marriage to a man (Brendemühl, below, right) for whom she cares nothing. But when M.Garrel (at left, two photos below) comes into her life, ah -- things change!

How all this pans out, beginning near the end then flashing back to the start of things, works well, and Ms Garcia proves adept at holding us firm through some very quirky situations. (The oddest of these flirts with mental illness in a manner that displeased my spouse but which I was to view as unlikely but acceptable, given that, hey, this is a movie, after all.)

The film's great theme is actually love -- in two of its many forms: one, a short view that's immediate and insistent, the other a long one, strong and sacrificing. The result is strange, beautiful, thought-provoking and, yes, sentimental, but awfully kind and caring.

From IFC Films, in French with English subtitles and running two hours, From the Land of the Moon (the original French titles is Mal de pierres) arrives on DVD this coming Tuesday, November 21 -- for purchase or rental.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Jamie M. Dagg's sophomore effort, SWEET VIRGINIA: good cast, good score, so-so movie

SWEET VIRGINIA, the second full-length feature from director Jamie M. Dagg, bears more than a passing resemblance to this year's much better mystery, Wind River. For starters, Jon Bernthal acts in both: here in the leading role, in Wind River playing a supporting part. Both take place in out-of-the-way locations and feature a murder mystery at their center.

But in Wind River, the theme of justice is paramount; Sweet Virginia, a much more manufactured concoction, is content to connect its dots via the father of the film's "villain" being a big fan of its hero, an injured-and-thus-retired rodeo cowboy named Sam Rossi. The connection is tenuous at best, silly at worst.

So be it. And since we must, in all fairness, deal with what we have, Sweet Virginia does offers a number of pluses. Director Dagg, shown at left, has assembled an excellent cast, a good musical score (by brothers Brooke and Will Blair), and a number of scenes that pack in enough suspense, mystery and drama to keep us hooked.

The biggest problem -- other than there seems to be no ongoing investigation by authorities of the triple murder that begins the movie (one scene, hell, even one shot, of something like this might have set our minds to rest) -- is the exceedingly coincidental quality of the tale told here.

That cast, though, is a very good one. Led by Mr. Bernthal, above -- who currently seems to be the go-to guy for "strong silent type" roles and is here able to communicate with few words a depth of feeling and caring that helps considerably in keeping us attached to the wobbly plot -- it also includes another excellent and upcoming young actor in the role of Bernthal's ambivalent antagonist,  Christopher Abbott (shown below) of Hello I Must Be Going and James White.

Our hero's main squeeze, a lately widowed woman, is played by the fine Rosemarie DeWitt, below, while the always interesting Imogen Poots (two photos down) has the role of the character who sets the story in motion: a three-year unhappily married woman (also recently widowed by that multiple murder) who does not, it turns out, possess a whole lot of smarts or morals. The women, as so often happens in American movies, play a distinct second fiddle to the guys.

The screenplay and dialog for Sweet Virginia were written by twin brothers Benjamin and Paul China, and the Chinas prove good at plot machinations without undue exposition -- even if, as noted above, those machinations soon begin to seem more manufactured than organic. (I did miss some of the mumbled dialog toward the beginning of the film, however. I suspect this was due less to the actors than to the sound quality of the streaming link we critics were sent, in which ambient sound and musical score occasionally overpowered dialog.)

The very dark cinematography, coupled to the location shooting (said to be Alaska but filmed in British Columbia), the musical score, and low-key performances of characters who are themselves all pretty dark and unhappy, combine to bring a finale that features some violence and blood (but not enough to qualify as gore).

From IFC Films and running a just-about-right 93 minutes, Sweet Virginia opens theatrically tomorrow in New York City at the IFC Center, (and maybe elsewhere, too), as well as simultaneously via VOD. 

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Streaming tip: Take a chance on Martin Rosete and Josep Ciutat's nifty little thriller, MONEY

Sick of super-heroes? Can't blame you, particularly after subjecting oneself to the supposed "amusements" of the latest and just-about-worthless Thor installment. If your pleasure runs more to character, dialog and oddball incident, you might enjoy a small but smartly done crime puzzle called MONEY. As written with relish and enough little tricks up his sleeve to last the requisite 86 minutes by Josep Ciutat (his first screenplay) and efficiently and crisply directed by Martin Rosete (his first full-length film after a slew of short ones), the movie also boasts a very good quintet of actors, each of whom captures character and moment with the proper intensity and believability. This little movie is a tasty surprise.

Mr. Ciutat has concocted an unusual but well-thought-out what's-going-on-here? puzzle that plays out quite briskly and felicitously, and Mr. Rosete (shown at right) gives the tale just the right pacing and lustre that it needs to engage and hold us.

One seemingly wealthy couple Kellan Lutz and Jess Weixler (below, right and left, respectively) is having one of the husband's work mates and his date over for dinner. Mr. Lutz captures both the "hot" quality of his slick character as well as the man's weakness, while Ms Weixler unveils quite a reserve of strength under her elegant exterior.

That work mate turns out to be a prime asshole (played  by Jesse Williams, below, with a cocky surety that will have you rooting for him to get his comeuppance), while his date (the glamorous and feisty Lucía Guerrero, shown at bottom) proves to have a bit more on the ball that her hosts might have initially imagined.

Into this quartet arrives a fifth wheel who provides the film with its fuse, trigger and explosives in the form of a very fine actor, Jamie Bamber (below), who would -- were the others not so very good, as well -- steal the movie. Bamber's entrance changes everything. But then, again and again, things continue to change -- in terms of both plot and character.

I don't want to make major claims for the movie, as it does have a bit of the "exercise" about it. Yet it is so well-written, -directed and -acted that it consistently rises above mere exercise into what I'd call nifty entertainment. Also, Money is not, thankfully, super-violent. Yet its occasional use of violence is very smartly handled.

So if you're browsing Netflix streaming and, as usual, find so much to choose from that you can't easily decide, take chance on this original and clever movie about money and its uses. It's also available on DVD for purchase or rental, and probably on other streaming venues, too.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

In PORTO, Gabe Klinger gives us a compelling tale of young, passionate, but one-sided love

The end credits begin with a dedication -- to Anton -- which is both justified and due, since the film's star is the late and hugely lamented Anton Yelchin, an actor whose fine performances have graced so many movies and TV shows since the turn into this new century that his loss is only beginning to be felt. (He also possessed one of the most distinctive voices in recent cinema.) The actor should have lived, worked and grown for decades longer. Yelchin turns in another memorable performance in Gabe Klinger's deeply experienced and probably very personal love story, PORTO, which takes place in that eponymous Portuguese city and details the very brief affair between a young man and an only slightly older woman -- the knockout Lucie Lucas -- over a very short time.

In order to get at the feelings of its two protagonists more deeply and also, I think, to make those feeling seem more spontaneous and honest, Mr. Klinger, shown at left, takes an oddly circuitous route, coming back and back again to the same moment but filling it in each time with more detail and sometimes a different POV. This forces us to think about the differences we see and hear and also to question their meaning(s). Eventually -- rather soon, in fact -- it becomes clear that this brief but very passionate affair has meant much more to the man, Jake, than to the woman, Marti, and that Jake, after all, is the movie's main character. (To call Jake a stand-in for Klinger seems almost obvious: The two possess such a similar look and physical build.)

As we bounce back and forth in time and place, we get know our two people, at least as much as they get to know each other in this relatively short span. Basically a two-hander -- with minor appearances by her older boyfriend-and-then-husband and their child -- the movie, as co-written (with Larry Gross) and directed by Klinger, manages to get inside the glamour/trauma of initial love and lust and make these very nearly as appealing, sexy, and frustrating as the actual event.

Yelchin, above, as Jake, looks surprisingly dark and drawn here, opening up and coming to life only in his physical/emotional connections to Ms Lucas, below, who plays Mati and offers him (and us) the kind of facial beauty and knockout physique that may put you in mind of the young Monica Bellucci -- yes, she is that stunning -- with a body that is on prominent, full-frontal display here. The sex is not skimped upon; instead it is a major part of the couple's equation.

Yet it is the emotional connection, felt so much more strongly by Jake than by Mati, that is the strongest and saddest element of the film, one that leaves Jake lost and adrift, for how long we cannot know. Yelchin captures all this, the disbelief that turn to enormous disappointment, with such strength and depth that we are with him all the way.

How the couple meets, the places they go, the things they talk about -- all of it seems simultaneously expected yet fresh. And since the movie lasts but 76 minutes, it nowhere near outstays its welcome. Just as did not Mr. Yelchin. What a loss this was. For those not so strongly acquainted with the actor's work -- aside from his best-known performances in the most recent set of Star Trek movies and the critically acclaimed but under-seen Like Crazy -- I would recommend Charlie Bartlett, Odd Thomas, Rudderless, and that great first-love story 5 to 7 for a crash course in Anton.

Meanwhile, Porto, also recommended and from Kino Lorber, opens this Friday, November 17, in New York City at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema, and on Friday, November 24, in Los Angeles at the Landmark NuArt. Elsewhere? Nothing scheduled yet, so far as I know, but surely this movie will eventually make its way to home video.

Monday, November 13, 2017

Greta Gerwig's LADY BIRD: Yes, it's as good as you've heard, but not groundbreaking....

...which, when you think about it, is pretty much what you'd expect from Greta Gerwig as a filmmaker, considering what she's given us, over and over again, as an actress: performances that are genuine, specific, quirky (but never overly so) and absolutely reality-based. That rather covers LADY BIRD, her first solo outing as both writer and director (back in 2008, she co-wrote and co-directed Nights and Weekends with Joe Swanberg). Lady Bird makes the best of her mumblecore roots while allowing the result to rise to a much higher professional level -- without becoming in any way slick. As I say: just about what we would expect from this talented and original young woman, pictured below.

Gerwig sets her movie back in the 1980s, which turns out to be a fine period for it: one not overly concerned with nostalgia for its own sake yet gloriously free from near-constant use of cell phones and the internet.

The filmmaker juggles a good deal of themes here -- from coming-of-age and family problems to the meaning of friendship, fitting in, and even coming out -- and she is so dexterous that one theme surfaces, calls out for our attention and then dips into the next so naturally that we're barely aware of the movement.

Gerwig, as both performer, writer and filmmaker seems to possess an intuitive sense of the psychology of character. Every one of her people in Lady Bird seems as real and as full as his or her connection and importance to the movie requires. There are simply no red flags here.

This begins with the filmmaker's star, that Bronx-born, Ireland-raised wonder, Saoirse Ronan (above and on poster, top), who would seem a perfect choice for the title role and the filmmaker's needs. Ms Ronan ought to have won Best Actress for her fine work in Brooklyn, two years back (she was first nominated for her work in Atonement almost a decade ago); Lady Bird may see her garner a third nomination, as well. The actress brings all the mixed signals and actions of late-adolescence/early-adulthood to her performance, and the result is funny, awful, mesmerizing and more.

As her put-upon mom, Laurie Metcalf (above, left) is just about Ronan's equal, bringing such concern, love and anger to her performance that you will alternately identify and wince, while the amazing Tracy Letts gives another memorable yet self-effacing performance as Lady Bird's kindly but sad dad.

Every single supporting performance here is brought to full, rich life, with special mention going to Beanie Feldstein (above, left) as Lady Bird's overweight and utterly winning friend, Julie; Lois Smith as the nun in her school with more on the ball than we initially imagine; Lucas Hedges (below, left, of Manchester by the Sea), who plays the boy who has too much respect for our heroine to actually touch her boobs; and Odeya Rush as the school's uber-pretty and rich girl who turns out to be -- hey! -- a full-bodied and intelligent character, too.

Gerwig doesn't do heroes and villains. She already understands the mixed bag that we all are, and she's able to communicate this without underlining it -- which makes her movie a double pleasure. I don't want to make great claims for the film because it remains (and clearly wants it so) a small film in every way. Its achievements, however, are many and wonderful. (Simply for the manner in which Gerwig incorporate Sondheim's Merrily We Roll Along into her film, I'd watch it all over again.)

Lady Bird -- from A24 and running 93 minutes -- after hitting New York, L.A. and elsewhere, opens here in South Florida this Friday, November 17, in the Miami area at the Coral Gables Art Cinema, AMC's Aventura 24 , O Cinema Miami Beach, Regal's South Beach 18; at the Gateway 4 in Fort Lauderdale; Cobb's Downtown 16 in Palm Beach Gardens; at the Movies of Delray; the Cinepolis Jupiter 14;  and the Cinemark Palace 20 and Regal Shadowood 16 in Boca Raton. Wherever you live, to find the theater nearest you, click here.

Pat Collins' SONG OF GRANITE gives us -- very elliptically -- the story of Joe Heaney and traditional Irish singing

Filmed with the kind of breathtaking black-and-white cinematography that will have aficionados drooling, this year's Irish entry into the Best Foreign Language Film sweepstakes is a movie entitled SONG OF GRANITE, directed and co-written by Pat Collins, a documentary filmmaker who in 2012 gave us his first narrative movie, Silence, and has now come up with this new one, which traces the life, parental history and career of a man named Joe Heaney, of whom TrustMovies had never heard but who was evidently known as a great singer of traditional Irish songs.

Mr. Collins, pictured at right, possesses a highly poetic sensibility, and he and his cinematographer (Richard Kendrick) have contrived a movie so steeped in gorgeous images -- there's one, of a father and son sitting in front of a stone wall and doorway, that I could look at, I think, maybe forever -- that you don't want to look away from the screen for even a moment.

The poetry goes beyond mere images, as Collins also tells his tale by moving back and forth in time and and also by interspersing archival images with those he and Kendrick has more recently created. At film's end he even joins the older Heaney man with his younger self across both time and a lovely outdoor landscape.

If only Song of Granite's aural qualities were anywhere near its visual ones.

Granted, I am not the best person to judge this, since I knew next to nothing about traditional Irish singing going into the movie (if I've ever hear much of it previously, I most likely and immediately tuned it out).

Coming out of this film, I am most definitely not a fan. I find this particular musical genre consistently dour, repetitive and an absolute drudge to hear.

I would estimate that there is at least as much song here as there is dialog (maybe twice as much, unless I am letting my distaste for the genre get the better of me). At times I felt like turning off the sound completely, but then I'd have missed some of the English dialog (much of the film's is spoken in Irish/Gaelic, I am guessing, with accompanying English subtitles).

Eventually I had to content myself with those visuals and with the interesting performances of the cast Collins has assembled, beginning with that of Colm Seoighe, above, as the youngest of the Joes, and especially that of Michael O'Chonfhlaola (three photos up, at microphone) as the adult-to-middle-aged Joe, who has a beautifully sculpted face that seems designed to please the camera.

Because Collins jumps around so much, but does so poetically, while we don't always get the details, we can follow both the story and the emotions it and its characters convey. If you've a taste for traditional Irish singing, by all means see this film. If you're a novice to the genre, Song of Granite is certainly one place to start learning. And if you're not a fan, well then, you know what you're in for.

From Oscilloscope Laboratories and running 104 minutes, the movie opens in New York City at Film Forum this Wednesday, November 15; in Los Angeles on December 8 at Laemmle's Monica Film Center; and in Santa Fe on December 29 at the Jean Cocteau Cinema.