ROBERTO ROSSELLINI'S THE SOLITUDE TRILOGY aka WHAT I'M UP TO TODAY

Roberto Rossellini's The Solitude Trilogy has been screening over at my workplace all weekend.  Today marks the only time during the run that all three films, Stromboli, Europa '51, & Voyage to Italy will be shown in a single day.  I'm going to try to make it through all of 'em, though, if recent history has proven anything, I probably will give up before the day is done.  Extra incentive to stay at least through the 2nd film: Europa '51 is rarely screened theatrically; in fact, it's a rare 16mm print borrowed from a private collector that's being projected today.

The following film synopses are lifted directly from the NW Film Center's listings:

Stromboli:

The film where Rossellini fatefully met Ingrid Bergman, STROMBOLI—like their later VOYAGE TO ITALY—is a semi-autobiographical portrait of its star’s stranger-in-a-strange-land predicament. Bergman plays a Lithuanian war refugee who marries a fisherman on the remote Sicilian island of Stromboli in order to escape an internment camp. Moving from the environmental reality that characterized his earlier neo-realist films to a psychological realism foreshadowing Antonioni’s L’AVENTURRA (1960), Rossellini’s film contrasts the island’s desolate, volcanic landscapes with its leading lady’s emotional turmoil. The barren, sulfurous rock proves a formidable and unpredictable rival for Bergman’s ferocious will. “An intensely moving exploration of sainthood and spirituality.”—Martin Scorsese. (107 mins.)

Europa '51:

The second collaboration between Rossellini and Bergman chronicles the life of a wealthy American woman living in Rome who is thrown into turmoil when her young son commits suicide over what he perceived to be her lack of affection for him. The woman’s grief leads her to the realization that she has been living a shallow, bourgeois existence and propels her to change her ways. As if on a spiritual quest, she begins devoting her life to helping the less fortunate—a sick prostitute, an unwed mother with numerous children, and a young boy—all of which disturbs her husband in tragic reaction. While the film has been viewed as Rossellini’s vision of the state of the world in all its confusion, many also read it as an exploration of Ingrid Bergman’s personal struggle. (113 mins.)

Voyage to Italy (aka Journey to Italy):

A reserved British couple (Ingrid Bergman and George Sanders) take a break from the chaos of London and retreat to the rugged landscape of Naples, only to find that outside of the structure of their everyday lives, the tedium of their marriage begins to emerge. Under the glistening surface of its minimal plot, Rossellini’s film amasses subtle details and small moments that build towards one of postwar cinema’s most enigmatically poignant conclusions. Again, Rossellini’s use of the environment as a relevant character is a precursor to Antonioni’s bleak industrial landscapes, serving as a link between neo-realism and the subjective, psychological cinema of the 1960s. (97 mins.)

The Solitude Trilogy: Stromboli, Europa '51 & Voyage to Italy screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum).  Click here for more info.

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PIFF 36: AMERICAN WINTER

Offering a glimpse at what it is to fall out of the middle class, Joe & Harry Gantz' American Winter whispers a harsh truth into the ear of the viewer: it could happen to anyone.  The eight Portland-based families to which it is happening in the film deal with it in a variety of ways, but most wear a look akin to PTSD as they struggle to stay afloat in a society with little safety to offer those who have fallen behind.  Their stories are all similar; the primary breadwinner lost their job (or in one case, their life) and has been unable to find new means of support, leaving their entire family vulnerable in the midst of an economic crisis the likes of which most of us have never seen before.

The Gantz' efforts here ditch the more lurid, voyeuristic aspects of their work on television (Taxi Cab Confessions) for an honest inside view of families struggling for their lives.  American Winter began as a profile of users of Portland's unique non-profit 211info, a resource hotline that connects people to emergency services based in "health, community, and social services."  While the non-profit is still a part of the final piece, the filmmakers smartly chose to follow the experience of a small group of families seeking out 211's help.  The result is a film that lives on the humanity and despair of these victims--ordinary folks like you and me--who are dealing with the biggest tragedy of their lives.  Depressing?  Yes, but also absolutely necessary; American Winter is a great piece of social filmmaking.

Highly recommended.

American Winter will screen at the 36th Portland International Film Festival at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Sunday,  Feb. 17th at 3pm and at Cinemagic on Monday, Feb. 18th at 7:30pm. 

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PIFF 36: LORE

Some eight years after Somersault, Lore marks the return of Australian director Cate Shortland.  Anyone worried that Shortland's abilities may have been dulled by the intervening years between features can rest easy.  Her second feature is a complicated journey through a physical/psychological terrain scorched by the malignancy of the Third Reich.  The film plays out like a dark dream, weighted down by a tragedy far too complex for its young characters to fully fathom.  Essentially, Shortland has succeeded in fashioning a tale that supports (albeit in a conflicted sense) the notion that the children of the Nazi era were also victims of their country's madness.

Coming directly after the death of Hitler, teenaged Lore (Saskia Rosendahl) and her four siblings are left alone after their parents are imprisoned for war crimes.  The kids are forced to flee to safety as the allied forces carve up Germany into territories.  While on the long voyage to their grandmother's house, the meet up with Thomas (Kai-Peter Malina), a Jewish teenager who serves as both a protector and a painful reminder of the evil that motivates the journey.  The six youngsters move through the war ravaged landscape in the only way they know how, clinging onto each other as they unsteadily make their advances.

With its trip to Grandma's house motif, Lore could easily have upped the dark fairy tale aspects that, while present, never overtake a matching sense of realism.  What results is a magical realism (note: not exactly magic realism, but moving towards it at times) that treats images of death and decay in equal esteem as visions of light streaming through foliage.  Sure, there's a bit of Red Riding Hood in there, but there's also a more than healthy nod to Nicholas Roeg's Walkabout, too.

Highly recommended.

Lore will screen at the 36th Portland International Film Festival at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Sunday,  Feb. 10th at 7:30pm and at Regal Lloyd Center 10 on Monday, Feb. 11th at 5:45pm.  More info available here.

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TALES OF THE NIGHT: SHADOWS TELL THE TALE

With Tales of the Night, director Michel Ocelot (Kirikou and the Sorceress) returns once again to his trademark silhouette animation style to tell a series of stories drawn from the building blocks of folk tales from around the world.  Rather than just adapt these tales unaltered, Ocelot uses aspects of the stories, changing them as he feels fit, to fashion something entirely familiar yet charmingly different.  As a framing device, he offers a up crew of theater players, scheming ways and means of telling the fables in new and exciting ways, leaping into the narratives shortly after devising their dramaturgical strategies.

Visually, Ocelot's characters offer a surprising amount of expressiveness, despite being conceived in a shadow puppet-style.  Facial expressions and character movements pop against the vividly colored, near psychedelic backgrounds and one never runs the chance of confusing one character for another, thanks to the quite distinctively drawn designs, which change fancifully from story to story.  Even though it's the same "actors" inhabiting the major roles in each tale, Ocelot's allows them a miraculous bit of technology (is it a 3D printer?) that radically transforms hairstyles, garbs, etc.  And it's no end of fun to see the short bits where the actors pore through various documents drawn from art, history, and literature to decide what form to take on in order to best spin the next yarn.

The stories themselves are the main attraction, though.  Ranging from plots built around a magic tom-tom to a Caribbean excursion through the Land of the Dead to the lamentable tale of a man tricked into sacrificing his best friend for love, each of these six vignettes is captivating, admittedly some more so than others (I was less into the Aztec tale then, say, the one involving a werewolf, but that's mere quibbling, really, in light of how entertaining the film is as a whole).

Best of all, this is a kid-friendly feature; all but the smallest of children should do just fine with the level of excitement and (very mild) sense of danger presented over the course of the film.  It's the rare animated film that works for all ages, though parents might want to seek out dubbed screenings of the film if their kids aren't ready for English subtitles yet.

Tales of the Night screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Friday, November 23rd at 7 & 8:45pm, Saturday, November 24th at 4:30, 6:30, & 8:30pm, Sunday, November 25th at 2, 4, & 7pm, and Monday, November 26th at 7pm.  All screenings before 5pm are dubbed in English for younger audiences.  All screenings after 5pm are in French w/ English subtitles.  More info available here.

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NW FILMMAKERS' FEST PLACES THE FOCUS ON REGIONAL MAKERS

As the 39th Northwest Filmmakers' Festival gets underway this evening at the NW Film Center, it's worth noting the marked difference between it and the MANY film fests hosted within the city limits each year (seriously, Portland, do ya like film much?).  Whereas POWFest, PIFF, QDoc, and all the other acronym heavy festivals populate their schedules with submissions around the globe, the NW Filmmakers' Fest places the emphasis on the makers, themes, and film community that's risen out of the NW region.

Call it a flavor, if you will, but one can't help but detect something different percolating below the surface of films made here in the Northwest.  Maybe it comes from being surrounded by more trees than buildings or perhaps it's the rain (or the coffee), but the political, social, and narrative concerns broached by so many of our region's filmmakers tend to shy away from the formulaic patterns thrown down by the big H-Wood (that's Hollywood, for those weary of made up slang).

Chel White's Bird of Flames

Given the small amount of time that I have to blog today, I'm just going to cut straight to the chase here.  I've only been able to view a small slice of the films screening at the fest, so there's bound to be gads of fine films programmed into the schedule that have yet to pass before my eyes.  With that in mind, I can definitely recommend a large handful of titles to catch over the next week and a half.

Lewis Bennett's The Sandwich Nazi

Let's start with the shorts:

Tonight's Shorts I presentation, which repeats again next Friday, contains several must-see short form works, including Lewis Bennett's The Sandwich Nazi, a beautiful and profane portrait of a deli shop proprietor with an endless series of outrageous stories to tell.  It's definitely not for the kiddies (unless your kids love hearing about some aging dude's sex life), but adults will be cackling throughout.  I'm also fond of Orland Nutt's bizarrely engaging Dear Peter, Wood Chips, an open letter to a friend that has the effect of transforming the mundane into something far more epic.  Nathaniel Akin's animated short A Tax on Bunny Rabbits, winner of the judge's award for best animated work at the fest, bounces around the screen for two minutes in a most pleasing and silly way.  I haven't seen Joanna Priestley's Dear Pluto yet, but I have viewed enough of her past work to know to seek out anything she makes.

Nathaniel Akin's A Tax on Bunny Rabbits

The compilation of works that make up the Shorts II program (scheduled for Sat. the 10th & Thurs. the 15th) includes the stunningly surreal Chrysta Bell music video Bird of Flames, directed by Chel White, likely the best (and weirdest) short at the fest that I've seen; of course, one would absolutely expect strange imagery matched to a song produced by and featuring David Lynch.  Also worth getting excited about: Kimberly Warner's CPR, which I raved about when it played POWFest earlier in the year, and Bahar Noorizadeh's Lingo.

Kimberly Warner's CPR

Shorts III has Tess Martin's beautifully animated piece The Whale Story, based on the Radiolab segment "Animal Minds."  I also really enjoyed Melissa Gregory Rue's Century Farm, Jarratt Taylor's The New Debutantes, and Rob Tyler's The Way We Melt (full disclosure: I'm friends with those last three filmmakers, but, y'know, if I didn't like the work, I would just neglect to mention it).  Shorts III plays on Sun. the 11th and Sat. the 17th.

Rob Tyler's The Way We Melt

As for the feature-length films on the schedule, the easy picks are Lynn Shelton's Your Sister's Sister and James Westby's Rid of Me, both of which received high profile releases and favorable press.  Just as worthy of recognition is Tom Olsen's The Crime of the D'autremont Brothers, a non-fiction piece exploring the forgotten history of a 1923 train robbery in Ashland, Oregon.  Matt McCormick's The Great Northwest returns to the Film Center for the fest (see my earlier review for it here).  And Jon Garcia's much talked about locally-produced film The Falls gets another local go-round.  I'm personally hoping to see Steve Doughton's Buoy over the next few days (it plays at the fest on Sat. the 17th), so keep an eye on the blog, since I expect to review it before the screening.

Tom Olsen's The Crime of the D'autremont Brothers

Anyone in the mood for some trailers?
Here, now, are the coming attractions (some of which I didn't mention, chiefly because I haven't seen the films):

Coast Modern Trailer from Coast Modern on Vimeo.

The Crime of The d'Autremont Brothers from Anchor Pictures on Vimeo.

The 39th Northwest Filmmakers' Festival begins on Friday, November 9th.  The festival website can be accessed here.

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BEAUTY IS EMBARRASSING: HERE COMES MR. KNOW-IT-ALL

Beauty is Embarrassing relays the weird, wonderful, and true story of Wayne White, a multidisciplinary artist whose chief goal is to inject strong doses of humor into the art scene.  Exuberant and profane, White is best known for his puppet designs (and puppetry) for Pee Wee's Playhouse, as well as the music videos he made for Peter Gabriel ("Big Time") and Smashing Pumpkins ("Tonight, Tonight").  But the documentary also chronicles White's return to the world of painting, where he's become a bit of an overnight success with his word paintings, campy thrift store paintings re-contextualized by the bold and absurd statements ("Eastern Fuckit" and "Here Comes Mr. Know-It-All," for instance) that White paints on top of the original image.

Displaying a naked vulnerability for the cameras, White is certainly willing to perform, quite entertainingly at times, for director Neil Berkeley (The Cool School), but there are also plenty of unguarded moments as the artist discusses his upbringing, success, and the eventual burnout/breakdown that set in during his tenure in Hollywood.  Ol' Pee Wee himself (Paul Reubens), Devo's Mark Mothersbaugh (who composed the music for Pee Wee's Playhouse), Matt Groening and a series of art critics show up to discuss White's work, but it's Wayne's wife, Mimi Pond (a cartoonist and writer--she wrote early episodes of The Simpsons), his parents, and his old friends who best convey the true beauty and restless energy that characterize both the man and his unbridled creative output.

This is a blindingly brilliant film, one that feels like it's tapped directly into the source of White's boundless forward drive.  Berkeley has orchestrated an intimate and engaging portrait of a courageous soul who creates because he has no choice and knows no other way to exist.  Beauty is Embarrassing thrills as much as it inspires, even those who are prolific in their chosen fields will walk away feeling like they could up their game after seeing Wayne White in action.  Like the man it portrays, this film kicks serious ass.

Highly recommended.

Beauty is Embarrassing screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Friday, November 2nd at 7:30pm, Saturday, November 3rd at 7pm & 9pm, Sunday, November 4th at 4:45 & 7pm, and Monday, November 5th at 7:30pm.  Wayne White will be in attendance for the Friday night show.  More info available here.

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NW FILM CENTER presents CERTIFIABLY YOURS: NEW FILM FROM THE SCHOOL OF FILM

I just wanted to briefly mention that tomorrow night at 7:30 the NW Film Center's School of Film is presenting a showcase of their certificate student's final projects.  I'm a friend and sometimes a collaborator with a couple of these graduating film folks, so I'm not going to get too deeply into hocking their wares.  But, if you're down to catch the work of some of Portland's emerging filmmakers, the Whitsell Auditorium is the place to be this Sunday.  Oh, and it's FREE!

For more details, we turn to the NWFC's press release for the event:

Join us as we screen and celebrate the achievements of this year’s matriculating School of Film Certificate Program students. Each filmmaker will present the short narrative film that they have created as the culminating effort of their studies. 

Stephanie Hough’s Heart compares the rituals of three brothers; Nathan Luppino’s Locks follows two lonely souls in the city; William Scheuner’s Lily takes a circus performer back to a pivotal moment in the past; and Shane Watson’s Changes explores the processing of loss and grief. 

These “final projects” showcase the skill and voice that each individual has developed over the years through class exercises, visiting artist sessions, group projects, faculty advising, and extracurricular pursuits.

A reception honoring the filmmakers begins at 6:30 p.m. in the Andree Stevens Room.


Certifiably Yours: New Film from the School of Film screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Sunday, October 28th at 7:30pm.  More info available here.

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THE MINERS' HYMNS: DOWN IN THE HOLE

Nobody doubts that coal mining in the 20th century was a hard, grimy trade to ply, but The Miners' Hymns adds noble to the list of words appropriate for describing this type of labor.  The film is the latest release from Bill Morrison, best known for Decasia and a series of short works (Light is Calling among the best of them) based in archival footage so ravaged physically by the hands of time that the deterioration produces unexpected and painterly qualities.  This time around, Morrison sets aside his usual fascination with decaying source materials, a choice that is surprising at first, and yet, the results are no less hypnotic to behold.

The film focuses on the coal mining industry of Durham, England, allowing us to gaze upon the coal miners as they drink, work, and fight in solidarity.  Morrison organizes the footage into discrete sections that move through the day and/or lifespan of the industry, carefully integrating the region as a player in his narrative.  For instance, after watching the miners toil underground for a long stretch, we see as an immense amount of coal is piled high in an above ground pit.  Morrison soon cuts to a group of children playing in these artificial hills of black rock.  Union demonstrations, clashes with authorities, and a ceremonial march through the backdrop of Durham play largely into the final third of The Miners' Hymns.

All of this occurs without narration; as per usual, the filmmaker resists being tied to a strictly literal retelling of the history as it flits across the screen.  Instead, the rough proximity of these events form their own hazy and vaguely familiar narrative, decipherable while still oblique enough to gather up mystery.  The original score by Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson intertwines seamlessly with the visual motifs that Morrison has stitched together here, heightening the imagery and rhythm of the edits into something greater than the sum of their parts.  The lasting impression of this audio/visual collaboration is that these miners as a combined force were superhuman in their efforts.  Even if the negative health effects experienced by that population can't be expunged from memory while viewing it, The Miners' Hymns offers a heroic portrait of these men who toiled beneath the earth's surface.

Highly recommended.

The Miners' Hymns screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) as a part of the Reel Music Festival series on Monday, October 15th at 7pm.  More info available here.

 
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AKA DOC POMUS: A STRIKING FIGURE, SHOT FULL OF SONGCRAFT

Born Jerome Felder, Doc Pomus was an extraordinary figure when he first hit the music scene, a white, Jewish blues singer paralyzed by polio as a child.  The fact that his music was exceptional only added to the befuddlement of audiences and record executives.  The new documentary AKA Doc Pomus delves into both the striking figure he was as a performer as well as the absolute phenom that he later became as a songwriter in the Brill Building scene of the early rock and roll era, penning such classics as "Save the Last Dance for Me," "This Magic Moment," "Little Sister," "A Teenager in Love," and countless more hits.

Drawing from a wealth of interviews ranging from conversations with his ex-wives and son to the many musicians whose paths intersected with Pomus (Ben E. King, Lou Reed, Shawn Colvin, B.B. King, Dion, etc.), the documentary paints Pomus as a sometimes tortured genius who was blessed with extended periods of reprieve from his sorrows while effortlessly drawing from them for lyrical inspiration.  The endless soundtrack of hits speaks far more loudly than any of the interviews could about this man, responsible for so many of the songs that defined the times in which he lived.

If there's a fault to find, it's in the repetitive nature of the interviews as the discussion shifts to the end of Doc's life, something that commonly occurs in these kinds of biographical documentaries (see the otherwise fantastic Who Is Harry Nilsson (And Why Is Everybody Talkin' About Him)? for another example of such missteps).  Overall, AKA Doc Pomus is a treat for fans of both his songs and the particular era of rock and roll in which he wrote them.

AKA Doc Pomus screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) as a part of the Reel Music Festival series on Friday , October 12th at 7pm.  More info available here.

 
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BARBARA: SECRETS AND LIES IN EAST GERMANY

Chrisitan Petzold's (Yella, Jerichow) Barbara reunites him with his frequent leading actor Nina Hoss for a tense, but quietly measured, look at one woman's life in 1980s East Germany.  Hoss plays Barbara, a doctor whose incarceration for an unnamed crime forces her to be assigned to a small provincial hospital.  By day, she works under the authority of André (Ronald Zehrfeld), another doctor whose own reasons for toiling in this understaffed, poorly supplied facility eventually come to light.  In her evenings, Barbara is under constant threat of having her body and apartment searched by the secret police, whose suspicions are not unfounded, even if their methods are questionable.

As the film unfolds, we see Barbara meeting with a secret lover.  She's also stashing money, both at her apartment and under rocks.  Petzold is careful to not let many secrets shake loose too early in his story, preferring a slow, suspenseful intrigue to build.  We watch as Barbara lives her double life, bristling against André's attempts to connect with her at work while planning something in her time away from the hospital.  What ends up being most revealing about these characters is the reactions they have to the patients who come under their care. 

Barbara is Petzold's best film to date.  It contains multiple small revelations, each one shifting our understanding of Barbara and André situations and their inner lives.  It's astonishing, for instance, when Barbara has a second visit with her lover, how Petzold is able to completely redefine the relationship without leaning on needless exposition.  Most of the film pulls off this trick, offering up depth of character sans confessional pronouncements.  It's a film that requires a patient commitment in order to keep engaged with the slow changes in its story, but it's very much worth the time and effort.

Highly recommended.

Barbara screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) as a part of their Kinofest PDX: New German Cinema series on Friday , October 5th at 7:30pm.  More info available here.

 
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FAT, BALD, SHORT MAN: LOOKING OUTSIDE THE SAFETY OF ROUTINE

Carlos Osuna's Fat, Bald, Short Man occupies a rare space in animated, feature-length cinema.  Much like similarly-pitched works such as Mary and Max, Persepolis, and Fantastic Planet, it's a cartoon with adults in mind, one that seeks to grab viewers with an emotional maturity beyond what is normally forwarded within the medium.  But what distinguishes the film from those mentioned above is how easily its screenplay could have been filmed using live actors, such is the quiet, observational quality of the writing and the reality explored within the piece.  Basically, Osuna's made an animated film steeped in the cinema of the social outcast, somewhere along the lines of Punch Drunk Love or James Mangold's excellent 1995 film Heavy.

The story here revolves around Antonio Farfan (Álvaro Bayona), a lonely, middle-aged man working in a notary's office.  He lives by himself, has little connection with his co-workers, and only hears from his verbally-abusive brother when he wants to borrow money.  Out of the blue, there's a regime change at his workplace.  The new boss, who bears a strong resemblance to Antonio, befriends him.  At the same time, Antonio comes to the aid of an elderly neighbor in need.  These changes, along with being talked into joining a small group for shy folks at a local self-help center, slowly begin opening him up to new avenues of being.

Fat, Bald, Short Man is a film that understands that the safety of routine is often what keeps us from moving forward.  Antonio's plight isn't so much that he is incapable of living a full life; it's that he believes himself to be no more than what he is in the present, cringing against the possibility of rejection to the point of rejecting possibilities.  What we have here is a simple and universal tale rendered in a medium most often associated with telling fart jokes to kids (see most modern Disney works for further reference).  Hopefully, audiences will be able to look past their preconceptions about what animated features can be and end up embracing it for the nuanced and mature work that it is.

Highly recommended.

Fat, Bald, Short Man screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Wednesday, August 15th at 7pm.  More info available here.


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NE CHANGE RIEN (CHANGE NOTHING): A STUDY IN INTIMACY AND DISTANCE

Ne Change Rien (Change Nothing) unfurls in slow motion glory like the opening of a flower to meet the morning sun.  And thanks to the attentive, fly-on-the-wall presence of filmmaker Pedro Costa, we're front and center for the blooming of actress/musician Jeanne Balibar's second album as she and the musicians working with her conceive and record the songs that populate it.

As a music documentary, Ne Change Rien operates far outside the standard, exposition-filled format that most viewers have come to expect from the genre.  With the exception of a few exchanges between the musicians and a spare aside or two to the camera, Balibar and her band are entirely focused on the task at hand, all while Costa's cameras silently capture the act of creation as it occurs.  Those unfamiliar with Balibar's vocal delivery will find it resides pleasantly somewhere in the neighborhood of Brigitte Fontaine, Marianne Faithfull, and, at its most dramatic moments, Nico.  The surprising derivation from that mode of vocalization: when we're privy to Balibar's opera rehearsals and lessons with her private voice instructor.

Costa shoots the action in exceptionally high-contrast images that, for the majority of the film, are swimming in darkness.  The presence of black within the majority of each frame is so pervasive that it comes as a complete shock when the polarity shifts here and there, moving to compositions bathed in brilliant white.  So dramatic is the shift, the band seems nearly naked in these moments, unprotected as they are by the shadows.

This is a breathtakingly beautiful film, one where the tone of the music and the look of the images are matched perfectly.  It's an effortless study in intimacy and distance, among the best documentaries I've seen in recent times on the topic of the creative process.  Highly recommended.

Ne Change Rien (Change Nothing) screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Friday, July 13th at 7pm and Sunday, July 15th at 5pm.  More info available here.


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HOW TO GROW A BAND: REACHING FOR RESOLUTION

Personally, I had never heard of Chris Thile or his former band Nickel Creek before viewing Mark Meatto's How to Grow a Band, a documentary about Thile's post-breakup (of both his band and marriage) efforts to rebuild his musical persona via a radically different angle on the roots-based music he's played since childhood.  Thile picked up the mandolin at the age of five and, if the testimonials of such musical luminaries as John Paul Jones and Yo-Yo Ma are to be believed, he's a musician of uncommon talent.  Now at a crossroads in his career and personal life, the mandolinist finds himself writing a 45-minute, classical bluegrass string quintet for his new band The Punch Brothers.

Meatto's film spends a lot of time intimately peering in on Thile and his bandmates' interpersonal relationships as they tour this new music around the country.  For all that focus, there are only hints of tension followed by a few terse band deliberations about how to make the difficult music being played more palatable to audiences.  Various members of the band think that some compromises can be made to audiences; Thile disagrees and shuts down every time the topic is broached.  Even with Meatto's cameras capturing discussions that exclude Thile from the conversation, the overall effect of all this polite disagreement is a rather toothless reading of the conflict present in something like the far superior Sam Jones documentary I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.

Fortunately, the film knows what to do when it's time to witness what the band does best.  It would be a complete disservice to the audience if, when conveying the four movements of their "The Blind Leaving the Blind" quintet, the standard music doc practice of cutting away from the performances was employed too prematurely.  To Meatto's credit, he knows when to stay in the moment; there are extensive sequences throughout the film of the band playing the piece and the film is even divided into sections that relate to each movement.

How to Grow a Band sheds any reservations one might have about the individual personalities within the band and truly comes alive in these moments.  Just like the music being featured, it's a difficult concoction that only periodically reaches for resolution.

How to Grow a Band screens at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Friday, June 29th and Saturday, June 30th at 7pm and 9pm.  More info available here.

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