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Indie Memphis: Sunday

Ti Wests The Sacrament, starring Joe Swanberg, screens tonight at 6 p.m.

  • Ti West’s “The Sacrament,” starring Joe Swanberg, screens tonight at 6 p.m.

Leave it all out on the playing field today, the last day of Indie Memphis. Sleep tomorrow.

Short Films #5, 12:15 p.m., Studio on the Square
I Wanted To Make a Movie About a Beautiful and Tragic Memphis (Laura Jean Hocking, 14 min.)

Sunday starts strong with this film by Memphis’ Laura Jean Hocking. The short contains images of the filmmaker’s past and of Memphis — empty lots, derelict buildings, and other things that used to be. Music by Jimi Inc. overlaps.

Hocking shares, “I am a romantic” and “Memphis is hard to love” and “Love is like sabotage and Memphis self-sabotages” and “Why would I love a place like this?” The answer, the narrative suggests, is tied up in Hocking’s emergence from her own difficult experiences.

It is beautiful. — Greg Akers

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Prom Song (Ben Siler, 4 min.)
Ben Siler’s stylish video of the Bake Sale tune “Prom Song” is about lateral movement and other consequences of a break-up. Siler’s camera relentlessly pans right for its female subjects and occasionally left for the males. The video tells a story of a break-up across numerous characters. It’s quite catchy. — Greg Akers

Vertigo Zoom (Ben Siler, 1 min.)
As described on Indie Memphis’ page (and, I suspect, written by filmmaker Ben Siler), Vertigo Zoom is “Pretentious fluff. Starring Gloria Dodds, Woody Woodward, Jessica Morgan, Drew Paslay, Savannah Bearden, Kris Steward, Bart Shannon.” The film presents a series of zooms, natch, with a series of actors (Bearden and a gun!) and clashing, looping music by Tropic of Cancer, from the sharing website intoinfinity.org. — Greg Akers

Please Wait Until the Tone (Laura Jean Hocking, 4 min.)
Another film by Laura Jean Hocking plays in this shorts program, Please Wait Until the Tone, shorter than I Wanted To Make a Movie About a Beautiful and Tragic Memphis but no less affecting. In it, fractal, wild images illustrate a series of answering machine (remember those?) and other telephone messages, reminiscent a little of the Replacements’ “Answering Machine.” If you need help if you need help if you need help… — Greg Akers

Furever

  • “Furever”

Furever (Amy Finkel, 80 min.), 12:30 p.m., Studio on the Square
Amy Finkel’s Furever makes the strongest, clearest case imaginable for taking your recently deceased pet to a taxidermist and having it stuffed — or pressing its cremains into a vinyl album, transforming it into wearable jewelry, mummifying it, or cloning it.

As a pet owner who immediately bristled every time Finkel used the term “pet parent,” I was eventually won over by her extended and updated appendix to Errol Morris’ great Gates of Heaven. Furever starts out as a This American Life-style geek show, but it gets bigger and better as it moves along.

Ultimately, it celebrates these dog lovers and cat fanciers because they have the courage to deal with the inevitability of death — an event which, of course, no American lifer thinks could ever happen to them. — Addison Engelking

Being Awesome

  • “Being Awesome”

Being Awesome (Allen C. Gardner, 77 min.), 12:30 p.m. The Circuit Playhouse, with filmmaker Q&A after the screening
This feature from Memphis director Allen C. Gardner stars Drew Smith as Lloyd, a divorced art teacher who’s lost his passion for life, and Gardner as Teddy, the lovable basketball jock who still thinks of high school as the glory days. At their high school reunion, the pair connect over their unhappiness with the way life turned out. Idealist Teddy suggests the two stop being depressed and just be awesome.

For a while, Lloyd has a bit of a harder time finding his artistic muse than Teddy, who seems to jump headfirst into something meaningful. Being Awesome’s emotional dialogue, the real meat of the film, sometimes is all too real — awkwardness and all. It’s a charm that leaves you to cheer on Teddy and Lloyd during this coming-of-middle-age story. — Alexandra Pusateri

Good Ol Freda

  • “Good Ol’ Freda”

Good Ol’ Freda (Ryan White, 86 min.), 12:45 p.m., Playhouse on the Square
Good Ol’ Freda, which derives its title from a soundtrack shout-out from one of the Fab Four heard early on in this film about the Beatles’ longtime Liverpool-based secretary, might just as well have been called Poor Ol’ Freda. Based on the life of the eponymous Freda Kelly, who as a 17-year-old habitué of the Cavern Club, latched onto the fledgling band and inherited its fan club duties from another fan, the film, directed by Ryan White, consists of recent interviews with the now 60-ish Kelly and others from the erstwhile Merseyside scene, interspersed with film-clips and stills of the group that became avatars of a transformed world-wide culture.

While evocative of the time and the Beatles’ gestation period, especially, the 86-minute film adds little that we don’t already know. We learn that Paul was “nice,” John was a creature of moods, George was “the quiet one,” and Ringo — whom Kelly refers to consistently as “Richie” — was a homebody type. Kelly describes a time when she was almost fired by an irate Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, for inadvertently “wiping” he results of an interview session but was saved when Lennon laughed it off. “When a Beatle laughed, Eppy laughed,” she says. The moody Lennon himself once tried to sack her but, pressed by the other Beatles, relented and begged her back on bended knee.

Freda’s stretch with the Beatles ran all the way from Pete Best to Yoko Ono, though she sheds no light on the mysteries of either. She had a seat up front in the Magical Mystery Tour bus, but it was her sad duty, when the Beatles finally disbanded in the early ‘70s, to fold the official fan club zine, advising readers, “Please do not write again.” She married and bore a daughter, who is interviewed for the film, and a son, who, we learn in a mournful coda, would die.

In the end, older, sadder, and considerably heavier, she is still around, a working-class Liverpudlian living by her own resources. And “Richie” is there to pay her tribute as a “member of the family” in a touching cameo under the closing credits. — Jackson Baker

Nebraska

  • “Nebraska”

Nebraska (Alexander Payne, 110 min.), 3:15 p.m., Studio on the Square
Nebraska is helmed by Alexander Payne (The Descendants, Sideways, About Schmidt, Election). The father-and-son road comedy stars Bruce Dern (Best Actor at Cannes), Will Forte, and Bob Odenkirk, and it promises to flex its muscles at next year’s Academy Awards.

The screening is another coup for Indie Memphis, which in the past few years has added major “independent” Hollywood releases screening weeks or even months before they will be released on the big screen for everyone else. Nebraska is, in a way, an aspirational choice. Payne typically makes movies that could be made to some degree by anyone, regardless of budget, excepting for the A-list cast. Payne and his collaborators focus on the script, and it’s at least 60 percent of what make his films so good. He’s won two Oscars for screenplays. Granted, Payne has the luxury of not having to work a day job to fund his art. But, ostensibly, screenwriting accounts for a zero on a line-item budget. The film will follow the writing, Payne proves. — Greg Akers

Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom

  • “Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom”

Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom (Justin Chadwick, 152 min.), Playhouse on the Square
Mandela: A Long Walk to Freedom is Idris Elba’s vehicle to stardom for those who aren’t already smitten by his work in The Wire, Luther, The Office, or this year’s Pacific Rim (“Today, we are canceling the apocalypse!”).

This time, Elba plays the South African civil rights leader and is joined by Naomie Harris as Winnie Mandela. The buzz is strong for an Oscar nomination for Elba. — Greg Akers

Bible Quiz

  • “Bible Quiz”

Bible Quiz (Nicole Teeny, 76 min.), 5:15 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse, with Q&As with director Teeny and subject Mikayla Irie after the screening
Think typical Bible Drill on steroids, throw in some family issues, budding faith, and first loves and you have the feature documentary film Bible Quiz. It follows 17-year-old Mikayla Irle as she faces the struggles and self-doubt that go along with conquering adolescence. As an escape from the love she doesn’t feel she receives at home, she turns to her church family and its “bible quiz program” in which kids memorize scripture and compete against other churches.

Aside from the religious benefits of memorizing scripture and the fun aspect of the high stakes competitions, Mikayla has another incentive — spend time with her team’s captain (and the object of her crush), JP O’Connor, the hot shot quizzer who was named third in the nation the year prior.

The journey from the Northwestern District competition to Regional Finals and then the ultimate challenge, the National Bible Quiz Championship, is full of heated competition, tension of wanting the approval of your first love, and tremendous self discovery.

Some play for the trophy, and some play for the friendships, but all will walk away changed. — Anna Cox

Awards Show, 8 p.m., Playhouse on the Square and Encore Screenings
Indie Memphis’ victory lap will come this evening with the awards show honoring the best of the fest. Be there to give another round of applause for all concerned. Also, the evening will feature four encore screenings of the the hottest tickets at the festival. If you didn’t get in to see them the first go-round — or if you can’t stand the idea of not seeing them again — here’s your chance. — Greg Akers

For the full Indie Memphis lineup, go to the schedule here.

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Sing All Kinds We Recommend

Indie Memphis: Saturday

One Today (Lara Johnson, 6 min.), 10:45 a.m., Playhouse on the Square, screens before Orange Mound, Tennessee
Lara Johnson directs this short that features the reading of Richard Blanco’s poem “One Today,” which was the 2013 inaugural poem for President Barack Obama. The narration is provided by Zach Pless, and the accompanying visuals are of scenes that document workdays and nights in Memphis. — Greg Akers

Emmanuel Amido, director of Orange Mound, Tennessee

  • Emmanuel Amido, director of “Orange Mound, Tennessee”

Orange Mound Tennessee: America’s Community (Emmanuel Amido, 85 min.), 10:45 a.m., Playhouse on the Square, with Q&A with Amido after the screening
Fans of local history will appreciate the documentary about a Memphis neighborhood, Orange Mound, Tennessee: America’s Community. Filmmaker Emmanuel Amido captures the testimonies of past and present residents of Orange Mound regarding the struggles it’s endured, its many successes, and the unprecedented events that took place there.

Orange Mound, Tennessee: America’s Community begins with an a cappella performance of “My Soul’s Been Anchored” by the Melrose High School choir. This is followed by a visual history lesson on the neighborhood.

The area was once a plantation owned by John Deaderick in the 1820s. In the mid-1890s, real estate developer Elzey Eugene Meacham purchased the land and divided it into small, narrow lots and marketed them exclusively to African Americans.

The area became the first African-American neighborhood in the United States to also be built by African Americans; residents constructed shotgun-style houses on the lots that were sold to them by Meacham. These homes would go on to house generations of families. And many of these families built and owned their own properties, churches, and schools in Orange Mound.

Other facts, such as how the neighborhood earned the moniker Orange Mound, are highlighted in the documentary. (The area boasted countless Osage orange trees during its early days.)

Grammy Award-winning jazz saxophonist Kirk Whalum, National Civil Rights Museum president Beverly Robertson, and University of Memphis professor Charles Williams are among those who make appearances in Orange Mound, Tennessee.

Amido makes sure to not only focus on the positive attributes of Orange Mound but also the less fortunate characteristics as well. The documentary explores how the neighborhood went from being one of Memphis’ most thriving areas economically to one of its most impoverished and crime-ridden. This is largely attributed to many of its residents migrating to other areas of the city during the civil rights era, which left a void in the sense of community that Orange Mound once enjoyed.

A solid effort to say the least, Amido does an excellent job of capturing the meat and potatoes of what the documentary form can entail and the message that’s most significant: Orange Mound is an area with a rich history, unique culture, and strong sense of community. — Louis Goggans

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What I Love About Concrete

  • “What I Love About Concrete”

What I Love About Concrete (Katherine Dohan and Alanna Stewart, 97 min.), 1:30 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse, with filmmaker Q&A after the screening
A young girl gets out of a stranger’s bed in a house where she’s never been before. She’s covered in downy white feathers. She pulls back the covers and finds a dead bird.

Ah, the perils of being a teenager! Which is exactly the premise of What I Love About Concrete, the debut feature from local filmmakers Katherine Dohan and Alanna Stewart. The lovingly made, sweet bildungsroman finds Molly (Morgan Rose Stewart), a junior at Black Swanson High School (fictional, alas), who is struggling to make sense of her body’s changes and her burgeoning sexuality. The film swaps the horror-repulsion of adolescence in Carrie for the magical unrealism of seeing but not understanding what it means to transform into an adult.

What I Love About Concrete does a lot with a little budget, including some inspired human-sized bird costumes. The film also features hilarious supporting turns from local talent including Markus Seaberry, Bill Baker, Kimberly Baker, Sara Chiego, and The Commercial Appeal‘s John Beifuss (swoon!). — Greg Akers

“Secret Screening” (120 min.), 1:45 p.m., Studio on the Square, with filmmaker conversation after the screening
I can’t say what the subject of the secret screening on Saturday will be. But, based on what I know, I will be there sight unseen, and if you are in any way interested in history related to Memphis, civil rights, and/or black power, consider taking the plunge with me. The audience will be the first to see a cut of a new documentary, produced by Craig Brewer, and to participate in a discussion about what you have seen. — Greg Akers

Sketches of Soulsville: Royal Studio (Ondine Geary and Sarah Ledbetter, 6 min.), 3:30 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, screens before I Am Soul
This lovely film is of a like mind with another short playing later in the day, John Kirkscey’s Bookin’. Sketches of Soulsville captures a dance piece staged at Willie Mitchell’s Royal Studio. A young woman stands before a microphone, smiles as if she can hear music inside, and then we see a dance piece that mixes jookin’ and modern dance; it’s like the woman’s inner monologue of rhythm and movement. Ondine Geary is credited as creator and co-director, with Sarah Ledbetter as the other co-director. Together with Bookin’, Sketches of Soulsville presents a compelling case that black and classical dance forms are finding new, exciting interpretations in Memphis. — Greg Akers

Teenie Hodges in A Portrait of a Memphis Soul Original

  • Teenie Hodges in “A Portrait of a Memphis Soul Original”

Mabon “Teenie” Hodges: A Portrait of a Memphis Soul Original (Susanna Vapnek, 35 min.), 3:30 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, screens before I Am Soul
Guitarist and songwriter “Teenie” Hodges takes center stage in this documentary that traces him from birth at home in 1945 and a childhood in a large family in Germantown — Teenie is one of three sets of twins in the sibling set — all the way up to present. In between is the rub.

Hodges’ dad was a musician who played in the Germantown Blue Dots. The musical family encouraged Teenie, and Willie Mitchell took him under his wing when Teenie was a teen. (Susanna Vapnek’s film includes interview footage of Mitchell from before his 2010 death, which makes it all the more worth catching.) Teenie joined the Hi Records house band and went on the road, including playing local clubs that were segregated, such as the Plantation Inn and the Manhattan Club. Hodges made some great friends, including David Porter and Isaac Hayes, with whom he co-wrote songs such as “I Take What I Want.”

Hodges recounts when he and Mitchell “discovered” Al Green in Midland, Texas. “I wanted to cry tears, he was so good,” Hodges says of Green. Hodges partnered with Green, leading to many of the great songs in the Green catalogue, such as “Love and Happiness” and “Take Me to the River.” About the latter, which was used in a hugely popular novelty item from the’90s, “Big Mouth Billy Bass made me more money than any song I ever recorded. What a world! What a world.”

A few other memorable moments in the film include Hodges indicating the pond where he was baptized, which inspired “Take Me to the River”; recurring scenes of Hodges driving around town singing along in his gravelly voice to some of the greats he co-wrote; and a brief reunion with Al Green at his Full Gospel Tabernacle Church — an encounter that says a whole lot about their relationship. — Greg Akers

Tonya Dyson in I Am Soul

  • Tonya Dyson in “I Am Soul”

I Am Soul (Johnathan Isom, 61 min.), 3:30 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with live music by Tonya Dyson before the screening and a Q&A with Isom after the screening
I Am Soul poses the question “What is soul music?” then attempts to answer that question by spotlighting one Memphis soul artist — Tonya Dyson, a singer/songwriter from Covington — introducing us to her family, church, and other aspects of her life that have influenced her music, and culminating with Dyson’s first Beale Street gig at B.B. King’s Blues Club. I Am Soul is a touching story of a talented, homegrown artist navigating her way through a city with a renowned musical legacy.

Alternating between Dyson’s story and the story of Memphis’ rich music history, I Am Soul shows that it takes more than just talent to make it in Memphis. In the film, Dyson calls Memphis a “music mecca” and says, “If you’re dedicated, and you’re focused, and you’re smart about how you do things, you can get a lot done in Memphis.” Her perseverance through life’s difficulties supports that assertion and shows that the artist is really what makes the music when it comes to soul. — Hannah Anderson

Short Films #3 (95 min.), 3:30 p.m., Studio on the Square

Historic Hospitality (Geoffrey Shrewsbury, 6 min.)
Bessie Smith died there. Ike Turner wrote “Rocket 88” there. Muddy Waters lived there. So, yeah, the Riverside Hotel in Clarksdale, Mississippi, is a pretty historic place. Geoffrey Shrewsbury’s film Historic Hospitality takes a look at the inn, with interviews that include the since-deceased owner Frank “Rat” Ratliff and local historians such as Shelley Ritter and Roger Stolle. — Greg Akers

From Cotton Fields to Movie Premieres (Geoffrey Shrewsbury, 11 min.)
Geoffrey Shrewsbury has another similarly themed film at this year’s Indie Memphis, From Cotton Fields to the Silver Screen, about Ruleville, Mississippi’s Luster Bayless, who went from a sharecropper’s son in the Delta to the owner of one of the largest film costume houses in the nation, United American Costumes.

Bayless went to L.A. after a relative got settled out there, and he talked his way into a job at a costume company. He worked his way onto the set, and caught the eye of John Wayne, who selected him to costuming on all of his films. The two became great friends. “John Wayne wore cotton,” Bayless says.

Bayless’ entrepreneurial spirit led him to build a great costume house that featured clothing from every period in American history, from the 1700s to the 1970s and beyond. His catchphrase is to give actors their look from “head to toe.” Bayless collected items from across the country. One method was to trade two new cowboy hats for one old cowboy hat, well-worn by actual ranchers.

Today, there’s a museum in Ruleville, where you can see some of Bayless’ great pieces, from Wayne gear from True Grit to Jamie Foxx’s get-up in Django Unchained and Tommy Lee Jones’ from Lincoln.

He even costumed Robert Duvall’s Gus McCrae from Lonesome Dove. A fact which made my heart leap from my mouth. — Greg Akers

Bookin

  • “Bookin’ “

Bookin’ (John Kirkscey, 21 min.)
Bookin’ is one of the best films at Indie Memphis this year. Along with Sketches of Soulsville by Ondine Geary and Sarah Ledbetter, Bookin’ presents a compelling case that black and classical dance forms are finding new, exciting interpretations in Memphis.

John Kirkscey directs and Jonathan Kirkscey scores the film — don’t get me started on how it’d just be easier if they were the same person.

The concept of the film is to combine two performers of classic ballet and two performers of jookin’ and hip-hop dance forms, and to see what happens. The film shows the rehearsals and final performance of the piece, which is all filmed at Earnestine & Hazel’s, so, yeah, this is the most Memphis movie ever.

A good portion of the doc is spent getting everyone up to speed on what jookin’ is — how it started with Gangsta Walking in Memphis, with music by Young Jai to complement the material. It also shows scenes of ballet at Playhouse on the Square, sometimes with two dancers superimposed as if performing a duet.

The four dancers — LaShonte Anderson and Jonathan Gaston are the jookers, Rafael Ferreras and Dylan G- Bowley are the ballet dancers — meet for the first time on camera and get to know each other by dancing, playing off each other impromptu. Jookin’ is about staying on the beat, so they have to break from that impulse to find middle ground.

Anderson coins “bookin'” as the cross between ballet and jookin’. She also critiques her own dance, saying “Do more like a swan than a tiger.” Yep, total crush.

The last 5 minutes or so is the performance, with music by the Kirkscey that does music, a mix of cello and beats that’s as entrancing as the dancers. it’s a highlight of the festival. — Greg Akers

Hank and Asha

  • “Hank and Asha”

Hank and Asha (James E. Duff, 73 min.), 4:15 p.m., Studio on the Square, with a Q&A with producer, editor, and writer Julia Morrison after the screening
A movie whose two leads are almost always staring back at you, Hank and Asha revitalizes some well-worn romantic tropes through its ingenious formal constraints. The film is comprised of a series of video messages between Asha (Mahira Kakkar), a female film school student in Prague, and Hank (Andrew Pastides), a documentary filmmaker whose recent work has inspired Asha to contact him.

Will their highly controlled and composed romantic communiqués hinder their hesitant, brainy courtship? They certainly make an unlikely if winning pair: Asha is warm, generous and open, while Hank is cool, solitary and guarded. In a nicely worked-out twist, Hank’s family history and manic romantic intensity actually generate more problems than Asha’s secret. But the very best thing about James E. Duff and Julia Morrison’s movie is that it ends exactly the way it should. — Addison Engelking

Jay Reatard and Alicja Trout in Meanwhile in Memphis

  • Jay Reatard and Alicja Trout in “Meanwhile in Memphis”

Meanwhile in Memphis: The Sound of a Revolution (Nan Hackman and Robert Allen Parker, 120 min.), 6 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse, with a Q&A with Hackman and Parker after the screening
Would you like to see Tav Falco take a circular saw to his guitar while onstage with Mudboy & the Neutrons? Or tug on the narrative thread connecting Furry Lewis to contemporary Memphis rap and indie rock? Or would you just like to hear an amazingly powerful, sometimes terrifyingly aggressive collage of sounds that prove without question that the music didn’t leave Memphis when the music industry did?

Fans of modern Memphis music, especially those who were drawn to Chris McCoy’s Antenna documentary, a hit at the 2012 Indie Memphis film festival, will want to check out Meanwhile in Memphis: The Sound of a Revolution, an exhaustive look at the Bluff City’s underground music scene in the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, directed by Mid-South musician Robert Allen Parker and videographer Nan Hackman. The film features engaging and insightful interviews with Falco, Jim Dickinson, Sid Selvidge, DJ Spanish Fly, Monsieur Jeffrey Evans, DJ Squeeky, members of the Oblivians, the Grifters, and the Klitz, and numerous other scene-shaping performers. While Antenna captured the essence of Memphis’ punk and DIY culture as it coalesced in the ’80s and ’90s, Meanwhile in Memphis looks far beyond the iconic Midtown venue to consider the music itself, the musicians, and the not always evident connectedness between generations and genres, which makes the scene seem like a sprawling, occasionally dysfunctional family.

Meanwhile in Memphis introduces viewers to a city in decay: Stax is closed and American Recording is boarded up. But there’s life in the ruins. Weeds spring up in abandoned lots, and the musicians who came of age in Memphis in the ensuing decades were every bit as hearty as wild grass.

It’s the first feature film for both Parker and Hackman and was shot over a period of seven years. Like the subject at hand, what’s missing in terms of polish is more than made up for in smarts and substance.

“I really wanted these musicians to tell their story,” says Parker who, when not working his day job selling records at the Memphis Music store on Beale, plays guitar in three area bands.

The film tells the story of two distinct scenes with common roots, evolving alongside one another and sometimes converging in surprising ways: the predominantly white Midtown/downtown rock scene as defined by artists ranging from Alex Chilton to Alicja Trout and the buck-and-crunk scene that blew up in North Memphis and Orange Mound.

Fascinating interviews capture the essence of contemporary artists like Harlan T. Bobo and the North Mississippi Allstars, with supporting commentary from Boo Mitchell of Royal Studios, Shangri-La founder Sherman Willmott, and music writer Robert Gordon.

Oblivians/Reigning Sound frontman Greg Cartwright defines both the film and its cast when he attempts to describe the feeling you get when you realize you’re part of a legacy and connected to something much bigger than you could have ever imagined. Meanwhile in Memphis isn’t about famous people. It ignores revolutionary figures like Elvis Presley and Otis Redding and, in doing so, makes a strong case that the revolution continues. — Chris Davis

Short Term 12

  • “Short Term 12”

Short Term 12 (Destin Daniel Cretton, 96 min.), 6:15 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with a Q&A with Cretton, actors Kaitlyn Dever and Keith Stanfield, and reps from Youth Villages after the screening
No matter how many self-deprecating anecdotes they share — or how many self-inflicted physical scars they show — the youthful but wary optimists of Destin Daniel Cretton’s Short Term 12 are never sure how much they’ve actually helped the deeply damaged teens and tweens in their care. That’s because the kids they work with have been hurt so deeply and so often that they automatically distrust anyone who peddles any form of “I’m your buddy” BS.

But Grace (Brie Larson) and her colleagues at the titular foster-care facility keep trying anyway. Cretton follows Grace as she tries to separate the chaos of her work life from some unexpected developments involving her co-worker and live-in boyfriend Mason (John Gallagher Jr. in a sweetly lower-case performance).

Mason, who tells two stories that serve to open and close the film, is not as passionate and reckless as Grace. But he’s still very good at his job. The long scene where he provides the beat while a young man (Keith Stanfield) shares his anxiety about leaving through some brutally personal hip-hop lyrics is one of the film’s many emotionally complex high points.

Grace remains the focus of Short Term 12, though. Larson’s layered, unpredictable acting here should garner plenty of accolades. However, Kaitlyn Dever, who plays Jayden, a cagey, raccoon-eyed girl determined not to play nice, is also superb. The relationship that develops between the two women further articulates Cretton’s belief in the power and necessity of unconditional love. Which is not to say that there’s no darkness before the light: The long scene that unfolds on Jayden’s birthday, for example, was one of several that brought me to tears.

Tender, tragic, and ultimately overflowing with compassion, Short Term 12 is more than a highlight of Indie Memphis. It’s one of the year’s best films. — Addison Engelking

Brothers Hypnotic

  • “Brothers Hypnotic”

Brothers Hypnotic (Reuben Atlas, 87 min.), 6:30 p.m., Studio on the Square
The documentary Brothers Hypnotic follows seven brothers, sons of jazz trumpet legend Phil Cohran, who comprise the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble as they try to reconcile their father’s rigid anti-establishment values with their desire to expand their musical influence.

The brothers write their own music, combining the jazz band training they received from their father with the sound and feel of funk and hip-hop. But what is even more interesting than the brothers’ musical style is the story of their musical journey, beginning with their intriguing upbringing in Chicago where they were raised by two mothers and their patriarchal father. All three parents instilled musical discipline into the boys with early-morning practice sessions.

The brothers prove that although it’s difficult, it is possible to break through the music industry’s glass ceiling without surrendering your independence and selling out to a well-known record label. After turning down an offer from Atlantic Records, the brothers embark on a self-funded, seven-country tour, which results in some surprising opportunities for them in the UK.

This is an inspiring story about talented artists who refuse to surrender their musical independence in order to make it big. — Hannah Anderson

H4 (Paul Quinn, 114 min.), 9 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with Q&As with actor/producer Harry Lennix and screenwriter Ayanna Thompson
Read Chris Davis’ Flyer piece on H4 here.

Meanwhile in Memphis After-Party/Indie Memphis Music Showcase, 9 p.m., The Warehouse

Read J.D. Reager’s Flyer piece on the show here.

Holy Ghost People

  • “Holy Ghost People”

Holy Ghost People (Mitchell Altieri, 103 min.), The Circuit Playhouse, with Q&As with Altieri, writer/actor Joe Egender, writer/producer Kevin Artigue, and producer Don Lewis
Holy Ghost People is a gritty and rattlesnake-tense redemption story that ultimately questions the redeemers, and “What if the truth ain’t straight?”

Charlotte, a young bartender, enlists the help of Wayne, an alcoholic former Marine, to help her find her sister. When the two arrive at Sugar Mountain, Wayne learns he’s been led to the Church of One Accord.

The snake-handling, belt-whipping campsite church is the headquarters for a ragged congregation of addicts and outcasts looking for forgiveness with the help of Brother Billy, the charismatic and subtly sinister minister.

Charlotte and Wayne infiltrate the camp looking for clues that will lead them to the missing sister. They are led, instead, deeper into the brooding heart of Brother Billy’s sect.

Holy Ghost People is wonderfully shot on the realistic and beautiful backdrop of Middle Tennessee’s Upper Cumblerand Plateau, though the setting and well-cast actors have to overcome ZOMG church rites for the film’s thrills and drama. — Toby Sells

Computer Chess

  • “Computer Chess”

Computer Chess (Andrew Bujalski, 92 min.), 9:30 p.m. Studio on the Square
One of the more anticipated films of the festival, Computer Chess is the latest from director Andrew Bujalski, who is often credited with birthing the Mumblecore genre with the 2002 feature Funny Ha Ha. Computer Chess, interestingly, defies any easy label. It’s neither drama nor comedy nor sci-fi nor romance nor thriller, and at some point, it’s all those things.

The movie is set at a computer chess tournament over a long weekend in the early ’80s, and the tone is captured smartly by the use of the video film. Some moviegoers will find watching Computer Chess to be chore, while others will delight in the little clues and plentiful quirks sprinkled throughout the film. Those on the fence should definitely stick it out for the last 20 minutes. — Susan Ellis

For the complete schedule, go to Indie Memphis’ Saturday page here.

Categories
Sing All Kinds We Recommend

Indie Memphis: Friday

August: Osage County

  • “August: Osage County”

One day in the books. Three more to go. Hope you’re pacing yourself. Or that you’re running headlong into the fray and damn the torpedoes.

Check back in this space Saturday and Sunday for Flyer recommendations for those days’ events.

FRIDAY

The Onion Innovation Conversation (Mike McAvoy, 60 min.), 4:15 p.m., Indie Talks at Playhouse on the Square, free.
Mike McAvoy, the president of the family of multimedia platforms that include The Onion, arguably the funniest thing on the internet daily, and The Onion A.V. Club, arguably the best film/music/TV/other entertainment site on the internet, discusses content marketing. — Greg Akers

August: Osage County (John Wells 130 min.), 6:15 p.m., Playhouse on the Square
I’ll risk the hyperbole. In its original dramatic form, Tracy Letts’ August: Osage County stands up alongside the works of playwrights like Tennessee Williams, Sam Shepard, and Arthur Miller. It is one of the greatest American family tragedies ever written, with a little something guaranteed to offend everybody: marital infidelity, incest, child molestation, Eric Clapton records, fibs, lies, falsehoods, etc. In spite of the unsavory ingredients, this dish comes together like apple pie — crusty, sweet at the center, and full of spice.

Set in Oklahoma during a blazing hot summer just before and after the drowning suicide of the Weston family patriarch, Letts’ drama plays out like a middle-class King Lear but with a stronger focus on the female characters and the legacies of dysfunctional relationships. The story gets darker and darker at every turn, but Letts’ breezy dialogue and his ability to find screwball humor and unforced slapstick in crisis and ensuing chaos is what makes him such an exciting voice for the theater and film.

The much-buzzed film adaptation was helmed by producer/director John Wells, with Letts adapting his own script. It features an all-star cast that includes Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Benedict Cumberbatch, Juliette Lewis, Dermot Mulroney, Ewan McGregor, Chris Cooper, and the aforementioned Shepard. — Chris Davis

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The Rolling Stones: Charlie is My Darling

  • “The Rolling Stones: Charlie is My Darling”

The Rolling Stones: Charlie is My Darling – Ireland 1965 (Peter Whitehead and Mick Gochanour, 63 min.), 6:30 p.m., Studio on the Square, with a Q&A by Gochanour and producer Robin Klein after the screening
The Rolling Stones weren’t always the World’s Greatest Rock and Roll Band. But as the cumbersomely titled The Rolling Stones: Charlie is My Darling – Ireland 1965 shows, they’ve always had the power to drive their fans nuts.

Forget about all that Gimme Shelter-era death-of-the-60s-at-Altamont-man stuff for a while and take a look at this long-unseen documentary, which shows the youthful, well-dressed Stones of December’s Children and Out of Our Heads sending young men and women into mindless rampages simply by standing on stage and playing a few originals and covering a bunch of classic rhythm and blues numbers. The high-quality concert footage is historically important, and Mick Jagger’s meditations on a celebrity culture he would eventually rule for decades are smart and revealing. The late-night jam sessions are also a plus; these guys really knew their stuff. They had no idea what was down the road apiece. — Addison Engelking

Tales from the Organ Trade

  • “Tales from the Organ Trade”

Tales from the Organ Trade (Ric Esther Bienstock, 82 min.), 6:45 p.m., Studio on the Square, with a Q&A with Bienstock after the screening
In Tales From The Organ Trade, writer-director Ric Esther Bienstock successfully humanizes and complicates the sordid subject of international organ transplants, which is examined as both “an exploitation of the human condition that has to stop” and yet another way for poor people to “use the body as a bank book.”

The scope and scale of the film is impressive, and the numerous points of view it includes enrich one’s understanding of the major moral, social, and economic issues involved. Some of its vignettes are bleakly spooky — the sight of Filipino men trying to sell their kidneys on the black market is, among other things, a distressing real-world riff on Kazuo Ishiguro’s 2005 novel Never Let Me Go.

Several very good fiction films could spring from this thoughtful, compact work. Here’s hoping that writer-director and body-horror maestro David Cronenberg (who, incredibly, narrates Tales From The Organ Trade) found some inspiration here for a new project. — Addison Engelking

Forty Years from Yesterday

  • “Forty Years from Yesterday”

Forty Years from Yesterday (Robert Machoian and Rodrigo Ojeda-Bec, 76 min.), Studio on the Square, with a Q&A with producers Ryan Watt and Nick Case after the screening
In Forty Years From Yesterday, a man named Bruce (Bruce Graham) returns from his early morning run one day to find his wife of 40 years has passed away unexpectedly. The film then follows Bruce as the tide of grief carries him through the days following her death, through the intense sadness, acute loneliness, and temporary loss of hope of losing the one person you were closest to.

As Bruce and his three daughters prepare for their loved one’s funeral, they are simultaneously alienated by their internal grief and united by their shared memories of their beloved wife and mother.

This feature from filmmakers Robert Machoian and Rodrigo Ojeda-Beck is a quiet exploration of familial loss that displays the heartache of mourning while it’s business as usual in the world around you.

The movie is produced by Paper Moon Films, a Memphis-based company run by Ryan Watt and Nick Case, with previous credits including Pilgrim Son, Open Five, and The Romance of Loneliness. Forty Years from Yesterday was made in King City, California, the hometown of Machoian. — Hannah Anderson

Zero Charisma

  • “Zero Charisma”

Zero Charisma (Katie Graham and Andrew Matthews, 87 min.), 7 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse
This nerd comedy with its band of misfits brings to mind Napoleon Dynamite, though it’s less aggressively eccentric. The film revolves around Scott, the Grand Master of his role-playing game, who has some difficulty dealing with the reality of everyday stuff (family, friends, job). When a member of his “Nerd Herd” abandons the game (three years running!) to tend to his failing marriage, Scott recruits a new player — one that is both familiar and exotic. That interloper is a hipster.

The role of Scott is expertly played by Sam Eidson, who, with his protruding brow, is both menacing and pathetic in the role. Zero Charisma is funny, while forcing the viewer into a bit of introspection in regard to real nerds versus hipsters who adopt nerdism in the name of cool.

It should be the noted that Zero Charisma has a slight Memphis connection. The film is distributed by Nerdist Industries, led by Memphis-born Chris Hardwick. — Susan Ellis

See You Next Tuesday

  • “See You Next Tuesday”

See You Next Tuesday (Drew Tobia, 75 min.), 9 p.m., Studio on the Square
In this drama, first-time feature director Drew Tobia shines light into the life of a pregnant young woman spiraling into mental instability named Mona (Eleanore Pienta). She is avoiding the looming certainty of having a baby that is clearly coming soon, but even Mona doesn’t know the due date.

She pushes away everyone trying to help her, including a coworker at a supermarket in Brooklyn and her recovering drug addict and alcoholic mother, May (Dana Eskelson). Her only-slightly-unraveled sister Jordan (Molly Plunk) is reluctantly reeled into her problems at the insistence of her girlfriend, contributing to the chaotic web of poor decisions that quickly deteriorates the situation.

See You Next Tuesday, and Mona in particular, is an impressive train wreck you can’t look away from. The deep-seeded psychological pain conveyed by this (well-cast) emotionally-torn family is palpable, disconcerting enough to make you seriously wonder what Mona’s mental diagnosis could be. — Alexandra Pusateri

Deceptive Practice

  • “Deceptive Practice”

Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay (Molly Bernstein, 88 min.), Studio on the Square
Molly Bernstein’s documentary Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay confirms the magician’s secret made public by Raymond Teller (of Penn and Teller fame): “You will be fooled by a trick if it involves more time, money and practice than you (or any other sane onlooker) would be willing to invest.”

I’ve been delighted by Ricky Jay’s suggestive, ursine presence in movies and TV shows like Boogie Nights, The Prestige, Redbelt and HBO’s Deadwood for as long as I can remember, but he’s only been in the movies since 1987; he’s been hanging around magicians and shuffling cards for up to seven hours a day since he was a little kid.

Jay’s deep, unwavering love for his craft and his equally strong affection for his legendary teachers Dai Vernon and Charlie Miller are readily apparent throughout. In addition, his combination of humility and the kind of theatrical modesty that allows him to blow your mind by piercing the skin of a watermelon with the ace of hearts will send you scurrying to YouTube for more. I recommend the one subtitled “Amazing Card Trick/Manipulation.”

This thoughtful, informative tribute to a singular entertainer is one of my favorite films of the year. — Addison Engelking

Superluminal Go!

  • “Superluminal Go!”

Short Films #1: Hometowner (105 min.), 9:30 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with filmmaker Q&As after the screening
A feast of local short films, which includes:

Superluminal Go! (Wesley Byram, 5 min.)
A delightfully low-budget sci-fi video, mixing old school models with computer effects, of a song by Monkeycrime (which, if it wasn’t a great band name already, would be a great band name). — Greg Akers

John’s Farm (Melissa Anderson Sweazy, 11 min.)
Maybe my favorite of all hometowner films — features or shorts — this year. John’s Farm is a gorgeous piece, with Sweazy and DP Ryan Earl Parker concocting something that looks spectacular and with a script that’s worthy of it.

Billie Worley stars (and is terrific) as a father dropping his son off at a mysterious play-date in the woods. On the way, he’s warned by an upset woman (Savannah Bearden), “You need to protect your son.” While the dad watches his son (Leo Spunt) cross a bridge to go off and do god-knows-what activity, he is warned by the proprietors (John Locke and Caleb Sweazy) that he cannot follow across the bridge, or else there will be consequences. So the dad is forced to wait with other parents, wondering what is happening to his kid while out of sight. It’s maddening.

John’s Farm gets right at the heart of what it feels like to be apprehensive about your child’s well-being. It absolutely nails the parental sense of protection, overprotection, and being left behind. All in 11 minutes. The ending is brilliant. — Greg Akers

Inner Child (Christopher Raines, 15 min.)
This comedy filmed at the Memphis restaurant Circa stars Matt Bowling and Meaghin Burke as a pair on a blind date. The high-concept film playfully jumps from the grown ups having a terrible date to kid versions of themselves, their inner children, who comment on the action. It’s a celver way to get at the emotional innerspace and monologue of characters, something that film struggles with without resorting to narration. Child actors Connor Hutto and Haley Parker co-star.) — Greg Akers

Part of Your Heart (Matteo Servente, 9 min.)
Drew Smith stars as a grieving son following the death of his mother. He goes to her house to start to go through her possessions and figure out what to do with it all. He expects to find the house empty, but there is in fact a squatter there, a strange man named Valentino (well played by Rev Neil Down, of the music group Deering and Down). Valentino didn’t know the mom — “Was this her house?” he asks the son — but feels completely at home, even using the good dishes. Part of Your Heart is a mild, tender film more about the confusion of losing a loved one than about confrontation. — Greg Akers

Toast (Bryan Artiles, 13 min.)
An unemployed sad sack in a bathrobe named Don (the sad sack, not the bathrobe) eats toast and tries to get a call through to check on his unemployment benefits, because he doesn’t have anything else to do. His wife, Dawn, brings home the bacon and is generally annoyed by her husband. Delila is a religious solicitor who wants to save some souls but gets sidetracked when she sees the Blessed Virgin in Don’s toast.

The film is a hoot and thematically gets in some great observations about long-married couples. With Pat Prentiss as Don, Sissy Denkova as Dawn, and Lisa Sanchez-Sullivan as Delila — all of them very good. — Greg Akers

The Missing Trail (Clint Till, 4 min.)
Made during a 48-hour filmmaking competition in Birmingham, Clint Till’s film is about a hunter (Chris Patrick) who is injured while trying to make a kill and becomes delirious. There’s a little gore, and there’s a great POV shot of a handful of water, worthy of Breaking Bad. — Greg Akers

Victoria Skye Cleveland in Slaughterhouse PHI

  • Victoria Skye Cleveland in “Slaughterhouse PHI”

Slaughterhouse PHI (Christian Walker, 22 min.)
Um.

This film, directed, co-written, and starring Christian Walker, is one that many will find highly objectionable. Or, at the very least, highly memorable. The film opens when Colin (Walker) is dumped by Jennifer (Victoria Skye Cleveland). To try to have a good time, Jennifer goes to a frat party. There’s keg stands and dancing, which is fun, but then she’s given ecstasy and gang raped by the frat brothers, which is not.

When Colin hears what happened to his ex, he trains and exercises, gets liquored up for courage, and goes on a slasher-flick spree to punish the rapists. We’ve seen rape revenge films before, but how many ex-boyfriend revenge/hero plots?

If you’re one who covers their eyes when there’s something gory on-screen, here are the scenes you will need to do so: the ones with a drill, a clever twist on the curb-stomp, a blowtorch and hot wire, and a self-emasculation. Oh, and penises done up like a string of fish. Not for the faint of heart. — Greg Akers

Poor Man’s Process (Morgan Jon Fox, 27 min.)
The Short Film program ends with this one, a making-of/retrospective doc about Craig Brewer’s indie debut, The Poor & Hungry. Brewer, stars Eric Tate, Lindsey Roberts, and Lake Latimer, master technician Seth Hagee, and the P&H Cafe itself are at the fore in the documentary. It’s a great look at a film many Memphians have not seen because it’s been out of circulation for years.

Among the highlights are scenes from an aborted color version of the film, the origin of the film’s premise, reminiscences by Brewer on his father’s role in the film’s existence, and the scene that made Roberts cry.

The Poor & Hungry was shot through every season twice, filmed around everyone’s schedule. Poor Man’s Process also includes interviews with Wanda Wilson, John Singleton, Stephanie Allain, the Commercial Appeal‘s John Beifuss, and the Memphis Flyer‘s Chris Davis. Brewer will be in attendance at Indie Memphis to sell copies of the new DVD/Blu-Ray release of The Poor & Hungry. — Greg Akers

Songs in the Key of Death (Edward Valibus Phillips, 12 min.), 11:45 p.m., Studio on the Square
Screening prior to the midnight showing of Tommy Wiseau’s infamous bad movie The Room, Songs in the Key of Death is an excellent mockumentary written by G.B. Shannon and Edward Valibus Phillips and directed by Phillips. It takes place after a zombie apocalypse (The Dark Resurrection of the Undead) has occurred. The one bright spot about zombies: they have perfect pitch!

Festival all-star Billie Worley stars as FJ Ackerman, an entrepreneur who tunes pianos with zombie vocalizations and rents the monsters out for parties. The film is organized as a fake CBS New Sunday Morning-type piece, with the Flyer‘s Chris Davis as a Charles Kuralt stand-in. The whole thing is exceptionally fun. — Greg Akers

For the full program, go to Indie Memphis’ Friday schedule here.

Categories
Sing All Kinds We Recommend

Indie Memphis: Thursday

Rosemarie DeWitt in Touchy Feely

  • Rosemarie DeWitt in “Touchy Feely”

Indie Memphis, the four-day multimedia, multisensory extravaganza is upon us. By the time Sunday dies, the festival will have presented 50 feature films, 82 shorts, 13 panels, conversations, and seminars, and 11 parties and social events. Where to begin? What to do?

Though it’s Halloween, have no fear. The Memphis Flyer is here to help guide you through the festival. Start by reading the Flyer‘s cover story on Indie Memphis here. Then check here on Sing All Kinds each day for recommendations on that day’s schedule. — Greg Akers

THURSDAY

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“Best Bites” Opening Night Reception, 5 p.m., Playhouse on the Square
Featuring food selections from winners of this year’s Memphis Flyer “Best of Memphis” poll (shameless plug).

Escape from Tomorrow

  • “Escape from Tomorrow”

Escape from Tomorrow (Randy Moore, 90 min.), 7 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with live music by John Lowe before and an actor Q&A after the screening
Few sights evoke more middle-class existential dread than that of a family trying to enjoy itself at a theme park. But that image is the linchpin of writer-director Randy Moore’s Escape From Tomorrow, which was secretly shot without permits at Walt Disney World in Lake Buena Vista, Florida.

Moore’s film begins inauspiciously: Family man Jim (Roy Abramsohn) is fired via telephone while on vacation with his wife and two kids. Suddenly, the tram Jim and his family must ride to reach the Magic Kingdom feels like a train headed somewhere far more sinister — a corporate-sponsored, all-ages concentration camp where bands of bored, diseased humanity trudge around mindlessly trying to survive in Mouseschwitz, frittering away the hours by waiting in line for rides and attractions that can turn threatening at any moment.

As Jim and his family try desperately to enjoy their time together, Escape From Tomorrow starts to look and feel like a lost or missing episode of Louie. Jim’s deep ambivalence about marriage, fatherhood, and basic human interaction (and his frequent, mournful sex daydreams about a pair of underage French girls he keeps seeing at the park) further underscore the film’s debt to the rhythms and ideas of Louis C.K.’s innovative, unpredictable TV series.

The opening 50 minutes of Escape From Tomorrow effectively and repeatedly prove that the Most Magical Place on Earth is as awful and alienating as Anytown, USA. But Moore loses steam after an eerie nighttime sequence set near Epcot. Yet the film’s uneven, increasingly paranoid and nonsensical final third includes a grim fairy tale about a former Disney worker driven mad from faking happiness all day long. When Mickey, Donald, and Pluto finally appear, they look as creepy as something conjured up on Bald Mountain. And after the film’s final image, you’ll never look at Tinker Bell in the same way again. — Addison Engelking

Avarice (Rachel M. Taylor, 15 min.), 7 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, plays immediately before Escape from Tomorrow
This immensely polished local short is like a sizzle reel for production design and special effects. Rachel M. Taylor writes/directs Avarice, a fantastical tale about a little girl (Haley Parker) who sees a magical glowing light and follows it out of her bedroom and into the woods. It leads her to a shimmering jewel, which turns black when she touches it. The nonverbal film has a palpable creep factor as the girl goes deeper into the unknown; the lesson seems to be that material things are like a spider in a web, waiting to trap us.

Frankenstein

  • “Frankenstein”

Frankenstein (James Whale, 70 min.), 7 p.m., Memphis Brooks Museum of Art
Let’s be serious, people: Frankenstein is essential viewing.

There’s so much to love in this 70-minute masterpiece: the stark Expressionist production design which taught moviegoers to shiver whenever they saw graveyards and mountain castles; the sly humor that director James Whale would push to the forefront of 1935’s Bride of Frankenstein; Colin Clive’s mad, transcendent chant (“It’s alive!”), surely one of the high points of the American sound cinema; Boris Karloff’s sensitive, subtle portrayal of the mute, beauty-starved monster. Interestingly, the monster first appears with his back to the audience; his face is revealed in a series of shock cuts.

Like many of the best Universal horror films, Frankenstein is incredibly sad. In fact, I think it’s more upsetting than King Kong, which it predates by two years. — Addison Engelking

Touchy Feely (Lynn Shelton, 89 min.), 7:15 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse
At first, the patchouli-scented realism of Lynn Shelton’s Touchy Feely threatens to lull people to sleep. But while Shelton — who, as a writer-director-editor, is a rare triple threat — spends plenty of time documenting the soothing patter of professionals who have to touch other people while they work, there are serious issues underneath her characters’ skins.

Touchy Feely focuses on two siblings: a masseuse named Abby (the always-awesome Rosemarie DeWitt) and a dentist named Paul (the equally affecting Josh Pais). When Abby suddenly loses her ability to put her hands on her clients, Paul seems to accidentally discover a way of curing his patients’ ailments through routine procedures. (Ellen Page co-stars as a disaffected Seattle twenty-something, a role she was predestined for from birth.)

Shelton uses stationary camera setups for nearly every shot, which create a soothing rhythm she deliberately breaks late in the film. As the camera drifts through a nearly abandoned house, a drugged-up Abby reminisces about an old boyfriend. This scene, which lets Terrence Malick and Joe Brainard shake hands with each other, provides an apt if too-soon closing to a mellow movie that, almost as an aside, features one of the most talented ensembles of the year. — Addison Engelking

Rosemary's Baby

  • “Rosemary’s Baby”

Rosemary’s Baby (Roman Polanski, 136 min.), The Circuit Playhouse
The absurdist horror film Rosemary’s Baby is one of Roman Polanski’s most suggestive and unnerving works. A sexy, never-better Mia Farrow stars as a young waif in New York City who moves into a stately apartment building with her actor husband (John Cassavetes). Once they settle in, their elderly neighbors seem overly eager and willing to lend them a hand — and that’s when things start to get weird.

The many esteemed veterans in the loaded cast delight in their slyly transgressive roles; Ruth Gordon won a well-deserved Oscar for her role as a solicitous old bat who plies Rosemary with strange potions during her pregnancy. For most people, the most memorable part of the film is its blasphemous climax. But I’m partial to an earlier, campier scene that dives headlong into the abyss once Rosemary utters a line of dialogue thick with fairy-tale malice: “This is no dream — this is really happening!” — Addison Engelking

For the full schedule, go to Indie Memphis’ page here.

[Updated at 1:15 p.m. with review of Avarice, inadvertently not included in original post.]

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

12 Years a Slave

Steve McQueen’s film 12 Years a Slave is inescapable — you are impelled to witness every horror it depicts — and epochal — its existence is in a way an indictment of a century-plus of cinema that didn’t have the temerity to make something like it.

12 Years a Slave is an adaptation of Solomon Northup’s autobiographical work from the mid-19th century. Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor in the film) is a free black man in Saratoga, New York, in 1841, when he is conned and kidnapped by two white men and sold into slavery in Washington, D.C. From there, Northup is spirited away to New Orleans, where he is purchased and sold again by a series of slaveholders over the next dozen years.

The film is a slave procedural. Through Solomon’s experience, we encounter the American institution of slavery in all its deliberate, dehumanizing trappings. Solomon is tricked and passes out a free man and awakens in shackles. He contends his free status and is beaten for it. “You’re a slave!” his captor exclaims, insisting he’s an escaped Georgia runaway. He’s put on a South-bound paddle boat. He commiserates with other slaves on the ship. “Tell no one you can read or write unless you want to be a dead nigger,” he’s advised.

A slaver named Freeman (Paul Giamatti) puts Solomon — renamed Platt — with other slaves on display for purchase. A mother and her children are separated in the process; violinists play louder to cover the cries of despair. “Your children will soon be forgotten,” she is told.

Solomon is bought by Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch) and ruled by the overseer Tibeats (Paul Dano). Then his debt is transferred to the noted slave breaker Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender) and the perverse Mistress Epps (Sarah Paulson), and then, for a time he’s rented out to Judge Turner (Bryan Batt).

Through this succession we see a diverse set of wealthy slave owners conducting a variety of agricultural practices. The Southern aristocracy runs from the benign, “good” master Ford to the sadistic Epps to the … oh, wait, they’re not diverse at all. They were all slave owners who perpetuated the inhumane system and became wealthy because of it.

You couldn’t call any of this an underbelly, because it was the legitimate law of the land. It’s horrible in part because it’s not criminal in a strictly legal sense: Every brutality is conceived and executed in the sun, under the eyes of God.

McQueen’s handling of it all is subtle but brilliantly conceived: 12 Years a Slave gazes right at that open wound, flesh whipped from the back, without overmuch artistic showiness. Thus, we’re apt to think of it as a slave narrative, because it’s more concerned with the order-of-operations framework of slavery than even the emotional toll (it leaves that up to the viewer and sees something of a release in the end of the film, following a Brad Pitt ex machina). Contrast 12 Years a Slave to Toni Morrison’s Beloved, one of the best novels of the last century, which finds unending emotional terror in the same subject matter but was, it must be said, a very fictionalized account of a true story, rather than a true story that has been adapted. Ejiofor and Lupita Nyong’o as the slave Patsey are astonishing.

Slavery bent human beings into grotesque shapes, on both sides of the whip. But 12 Years a Slave is more concerned with the end of it. McQueen and screenwriter John Ridley are black. It’s one of those things that shouldn’t be notable but is. If you consider 12 Years a Slave with The Butler and Fruitvale Station, you can see a by-God trend of black filmmakers making mainstream movies about the black experience, something else that shouldn’t be worth mentioning but is. Centuries of racial oppression and inequity, and the results continue to manifest themselves today. And people think ours is a post-racial society? McQueen doesn’t want you to be comfortable with the thought.

12 Years a Slave

Opens Friday, November 1st

Paradiso

Categories
Cover Feature News

Meanwhile At Indie Memphis

What: A four-day multimedia event with dozens of film screenings, entertainment and technology panels and discussions, parties, live music shows, and food programs.

When: Thursday, October 31st, through Sunday, November 3rd

Where: Numerous Overton Square venues, including Playhouse on the Square, Malco’s Studio on the Square, The Circuit Playhouse, Memphis Brooks Museum of Art, and Local Gastropub; and downtown sites, including Earnestine & Hazel’s and The Warehouse

Full schedule: IndieMemphis.com

The 2013 Indie Memphis film festival kicks off not with a movie but with food. At 5 p.m. on Thursday, October 31st, the “Best Bites” reception at Playhouse on the Square features selections from winners of this year’s Memphis Flyer “Best of Memphis” poll (shameless plug). For the rest of the evening, you have your pick of the horror films (this being Halloween night) Escape from Tomorrow, James Whale’s classic Frankenstein, and Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, the TV pilot to Fox’s J.J. Abrams-produced Almost Human (which won’t air for a few more weeks), Touchy Feely, a buzzy ensemble drama starring Rosemarie DeWitt and Ellen Page, and local indie-pop group Star & Micey, who are starring (and Micey-ing) at an after-party concert at Earnestine & Hazel’s.

Thus, Indie Memphis in a nutshell: killer movies that haven’t opened here, classic films you can’t usually see on the big screen, the best of local music and food, and scores of filmmakers (note: Polanski will not be in attendance), performers, patrons, and scenesters all ambling between a diverse set of venues magnetized to Overton Square.

When Indie Memphis wraps up Sunday evening with an awards show and encore screenings of the fest’s best, it will have presented 50 feature films, 82 shorts, 13 panels, conversations, and seminars, and 11 parties and social events. It’s fiercely local — see our significant artistic talent on display in short films such as I Wanted To Make a Movie About a Beautiful and Tragic Memphis — but notably national, with Memphis premieres of major, Oscar-contending films (August: Osage County, Nebraska, and Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom), indie behemoths (Drinking Buddies, As I Lay Dying, Zero Charisma, The Sacrament), critical darlings (Short Term 12, Touchy Feely, Computer Chess), and diverse documentaries (Hit & Stay and The Great Chicken Wing Hunt).

It is a multimedia, multisensory extravaganza, arguably (or maybe definitively) the Mid-South’s annual cultural high-water mark.

What follows is a list, admittedly subjective, of some of the highlights. You can sleep on Monday.

Greg Akers

Meanwhile in Memphis directors Nan Hackman and Robert Allen Parker

Meanwhile in Memphis: The Sound of a Revolution

Saturday, 6 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse, with a filmmaker Q&A after the screening

Would you like to see Tav Falco take a circular saw to his guitar while onstage with Mudboy & the Neutrons? Or tug on the narrative thread connecting Furry Lewis to contemporary Memphis rap and indie rock? Or would you just like to hear an amazingly powerful, sometimes terrifyingly aggressive collage of sounds that prove without question that the music didn’t leave Memphis when the music industry did?

Fans of modern Memphis music, especially those who were drawn to Chris McCoy’s Antenna documentary, a hit at the 2012 Indie Memphis film festival, will want to check out Meanwhile in Memphis: The Sound of a Revolution, an exhaustive look at the Bluff City’s underground music scene in the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, directed by Mid-South musician Robert Allen Parker and videographer Nan Hackman. The film features engaging and insightful interviews with Falco, Jim Dickinson, Sid Selvidge, DJ Spanish Fly, Monsieur Jeffrey Evans, DJ Squeeky, members of the Oblivians, the Grifters, and the Klitz, and numerous other scene-shaping performers. While Antenna captured the essence of Memphis’ punk and DIY culture as it coalesced in the ’80s and ’90s, Meanwhile in Memphis looks far beyond the iconic Midtown venue to consider the music itself, the musicians, and the not always evident connectedness between generations and genres, which makes the scene seem like a sprawling, occasionally dysfunctional family.

Meanwhile in Memphis introduces viewers to a city in decay: Stax is closed and American Recording is boarded up. But there’s life in the ruins. Weeds spring up in abandoned lots, and the musicians who came of age in Memphis in the ensuing decades were every bit as hearty as wild grass.

Meanwhile in Memphis, Jim Dickinson

It’s the first feature film for both Parker and Hackman and was shot over a period of seven years. Like the subject at hand, what’s missing in terms of polish is more than made up for in smarts and substance.

“I really wanted these musicians to tell their story,” says Parker who, when not working his day job selling records at the Memphis Music store on Beale, plays guitar in three area bands.

The film tells the story of two distinct scenes with common roots, evolving alongside one another and sometimes converging in surprising ways: the predominantly white Midtown/downtown rock scene as defined by artists ranging from Alex Chilton to Alicja Trout and the buck-and-crunk scene that blew up in North Memphis and Orange Mound.

Meanwhile in Memphis, The Grifters

Fascinating interviews capture the essence of contemporary artists like Harlan T. Bobo and the North Mississippi Allstars, with supporting commentary from Boo Mitchell of Royal Studios, Shangri-La founder Sherman Willmott, and music writer Robert Gordon.

Oblivians/Reigning Sound frontman Greg Cartwright defines both the film and its cast when he attempts to describe the feeling you get when you realize you’re part of a legacy and connected to something much bigger than you could have ever imagined. Meanwhile in Memphis isn’t about famous people. It ignores revolutionary figures like Elvis Presley and Otis Redding and, in doing so, makes a strong case that the revolution continues. — Chris Davis

Orange Mound, Tennessee director Emmanuel Amido

Orange Mound, Tennessee: America’s Community

Saturday, 10:45 a.m., Playhouse on the Square, with a filmmaker Q&A after the screening

Fans of local history will appreciate the documentary about a Memphis neighborhood, Orange Mound, Tennessee: America’s Community. Filmmaker Emmanuel Amido captures the testimonies of past and present residents of Orange Mound regarding the struggles it’s endured, its many successes, and the unprecedented events that took place there.

Orange Mound, Tennessee: America’s Community begins with an a cappella performance of “My Soul’s Been Anchored” by the Melrose High School choir. This is followed by a visual history lesson on the neighborhood.

The area was once a plantation owned by John Deaderick in the 1820s. In the mid-1890s, real estate developer Elzey Eugene Meacham purchased the land and divided it into small, narrow lots and marketed them exclusively to African Americans.

The area became the first African-American neighborhood in the United States to also be built by African Americans; residents constructed shotgun-style houses on the lots that were sold to them by Meacham. These homes would go on to house generations of families. And many of these families built and owned their own properties, churches, and schools in Orange Mound.

Other facts, such as how the neighborhood earned the moniker Orange Mound, are highlighted in the documentary. (The area boasted countless Osage orange trees during its early days.)

Grammy Award-winning jazz saxophonist Kirk Whalum, National Civil Rights Museum president Beverly Robertson, and University of Memphis professor Charles Williams are among those who make appearances in Orange Mound, Tennessee: America’s Community.

Amido makes sure to not only focus on the positive attributes of Orange Mound but also the less fortunate characteristics as well. The documentary explores how the neighborhood went from being one of Memphis’ most thriving areas economically to one of its most impoverished and crime-ridden. This is largely attributed to many of its residents migrating to other areas of the city during the civil rights era, which left a void in the sense of community that Orange Mound once enjoyed.

A solid effort to say the least, Amido does an excellent job of capturing the meat and potatoes of what the documentary form can entail and the message that’s most significant: Orange Mound is an area with a rich history, unique culture, and strong sense of community. — Louis Goggans

Being Awesome

Being Awesome

Sunday, 12:30 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse, with a filmmaker Q&A after the screening

This feature from Memphis director Allen C. Gardner stars Drew Smith as Lloyd, a divorced art teacher who’s lost his passion for life, and Gardner as Teddy, the lovable basketball jock who still thinks of high school as the glory days. At their high school reunion, the pair connect over their unhappiness with the way life turned out. Idealist Teddy suggests the two stop being depressed and just be awesome.

For a while, Lloyd has a bit of a harder time finding his artistic muse than Teddy, who seems to jump headfirst into something meaningful. Being Awesome‘s emotional dialogue, the real meat of the film, sometimes is all too real — awkwardness and all. It’s a charm that leaves you to cheer on Teddy and Lloyd during this coming-of-middle-age story. — Alexandra Pusateri

What I Love About Concrete

What I Love About Concrete

Saturday, 1:30 p.m., The Circuit Playhouse, with filmmaker Q&A after the screening

A young girl gets out of a stranger’s bed in a house where she’s never been before. She’s covered in downy white feathers. She pulls back the covers and finds a dead bird.

Ah, the perils of being a teenager! Which is exactly the premise of What I Love About Concrete, the debut feature from local filmmakers Katherine Dohan and Alanna Stewart. The lovingly made, sweet bildungsroman finds Molly (Morgan Rose Stewart), a junior at Black Swanson High School (fictional, alas), who is struggling to make sense of her body’s changes and her burgeoning sexuality. The film swaps the horror-repulsion of adolescence in Carrie for the magical unrealism of seeing but not understanding what it means to transform into an adult.

What I Love About Concrete does a lot with a little budget, including some inspired human-sized bird costumes. The film also features hilarious supporting turns from local talent including Markus Seaberry, Bill Baker, Kimberly Baker, Sara Chiego, and The Commercial Appeal‘s John Beifuss (swoon!).

Greg Akers

I Am Soul, Tonya Dyson

I Am Soul

Saturday, 3:30 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with live music by Tonya Dyson before the screening and a filmmaker Q&A after the screening

I Am Soul poses the question “What is soul music?” then attempts to answer that question by spotlighting one Memphis soul artist — Tonya Dyson, a singer/songwriter from Covington — introducing us to her family, church, and other aspects of her life that have influenced her music, and culminating with Dyson’s first Beale Street gig at B.B. King’s Blues Club. I Am Soul is a touching story of a talented, homegrown artist navigating her way through a city with a renowned musical legacy.

Alternating between Dyson’s story and the story of Memphis’ rich music history, I Am Soul shows that it takes more than just talent to make it in Memphis. In the film, Dyson calls Memphis a “music mecca” and says, “If you’re dedicated, and you’re focused, and you’re smart about how you do things, you can get a lot done in Memphis.” Her perseverance through life’s difficulties supports that assertion and shows that the artist is really what makes the music when it comes to soul.

Hannah Anderson

“Secret Screening”

Saturday, 1:45 p.m., Studio on the Square, with audience and filmmaker discussion after the screening

I can’t say what the subject of the secret screening on Saturday will be. But, based on what I know, I will be there sight unseen, and if you are in any way interested in history related to Memphis, civil rights, and/or black power, consider taking the plunge with me. The audience will be the first to see a cut of a new documentary, produced by Craig Brewer, and to participate in a discussion about what you have seen. — Greg Akers

Escape from Tomorrow

Thursday, 7 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with live music by John Lowe before and an actor Q&A after the screening

Few sights evoke more middle-class existential dread than that of a family trying to enjoy itself at a theme park. But that image is the linchpin of writer-director Randy Moore’s Escape From Tomorrow, which was secretly shot without permits at Walt Disney World in Lake Buena Vista, Florida.

Moore’s film begins inauspiciously: Family man Jim (Roy Abramsohn) is fired via telephone while on vacation with his wife and two kids. Suddenly, the tram Jim and his family must ride to reach the Magic Kingdom feels like a train headed somewhere far more sinister — a corporate-sponsored, all-ages concentration camp where bands of bored, diseased humanity trudge around mindlessly trying to survive in Mouseschwitz, frittering away the hours by waiting in line for rides and attractions that can turn threatening at any moment.

As Jim and his family try desperately to enjoy their time together, Escape From Tomorrow starts to look and feel like a lost or missing episode of Louie. Jim’s deep ambivalence about marriage, fatherhood, and basic human interaction (and his frequent, mournful sex daydreams about a pair of underage French girls he keeps seeing at the park) further underscore the film’s debt to the rhythms and ideas of Louis C.K.’s innovative, unpredictable TV series.

The opening 50 minutes of Escape From Tomorrow effectively and repeatedly prove that the Most Magical Place on Earth is as awful and alienating as Anytown, USA. But Moore loses steam after an eerie nighttime sequence set near Epcot. Yet the film’s uneven, increasingly paranoid and nonsensical final third includes a grim fairy tale about a former Disney worker driven mad from faking happiness all day long. When Mickey, Donald, and Pluto finally appear, they look as creepy as something conjured up on Bald Mountain. And after the film’s final image, you’ll never look at Tinker Bell in the same way again. — Addison Engelking

August: Osage County

August: Osage County

Friday, 6:15 p.m., Playhouse on the Square

I’ll risk the hyperbole. In its original dramatic form, Tracy Letts’ August: Osage County stands up alongside the works of playwrights like Tennessee Williams, Sam Shepard, and Arthur Miller. It is one of the greatest American family tragedies ever written, with a little something guaranteed to offend everybody: marital infidelity, incest, child molestation, Eric Clapton records, fibs, lies, falsehoods, etc. In spite of the unsavory ingredients, this dish comes together like apple pie — crusty, sweet at the center, and full of spice.

Set in Oklahoma during a blazing hot summer just before and after the drowning suicide of the Weston family patriarch, Letts’ drama plays out like a middle-class King Lear but with a stronger focus on the female characters and the legacies of dysfunctional relationships. The story gets darker and darker at every turn, but Letts’ breezy dialogue and his ability to find screwball humor and unforced slapstick in crisis and ensuing chaos is what makes him such an exciting voice for the theater and film.

The much-buzzed film adaptation was helmed by producer/director John Wells, with Letts adapting his own script. It features an all-star cast that includes Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Benedict Cumberbatch, Juliette Lewis, Dermot Mulroney, Ewan McGregor, Chris Cooper, and the aforementioned Shepard. — Chris Davis

Short Term 12

Short Term 12

Saturday, 6:15 p.m., Playhouse on the Square, with live music by Mark Allen before and a filmmaker and actor Q&A along with reps from Youth Villages after the screening

No matter how many self-deprecating anecdotes they share — or how many self-inflicted physical scars they show — the youthful but wary optimists of Destin Daniel Cretton’s Short Term 12 are never sure how much they’ve actually helped the deeply damaged teens and tweens in their care. That’s because the kids they work with have been hurt so deeply and so often that they automatically distrust anyone who peddles any form of “I’m your buddy” BS.

But Grace (Brie Larson) and her colleagues at the titular foster-care facility keep trying anyway. Cretton follows Grace as she tries to separate the chaos of her work life from some unexpected developments involving her co-worker and live-in boyfriend Mason (John Gallagher Jr. in a sweetly lower-case performance).

Mason, who tells two stories that serve to open and close the film, is not as passionate and reckless as Grace. But he’s still very good at his job. The long scene where he provides the beat while a young man (Keith Stanfield) shares his anxiety about leaving through some brutally personal hip-hop lyrics is one of the film’s many emotionally complex high points.

Grace remains the focus of Short Term 12, though. Larson’s layered, unpredictable acting here should garner plenty of accolades. However, Kaitlyn Dever, who plays Jayden, a cagey, raccoon-eyed girl determined not to play nice, is also superb. The relationship that develops between the two women further articulates Cretton’s belief in the power and necessity of unconditional love. Which is not to say that there’s no darkness before the light: The long scene that unfolds on Jayden’s birthday, for example, was one of several that brought me to tears.

Tender, tragic, and ultimately overflowing with compassion, Short Term 12 is more than a highlight of Indie Memphis. It’s one of the year’s best films.

Addison Engelking

For full coverage of Indie Memphis, including reviews of dozens of narrative, documentary, and short films updated daily through Sunday, go to the Flyer’s entertainment blog, Sing All Kinds.

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Zombie Apocalypse Now

The National Geographic channel’s reality show Doomsday Castle is about a family who has built a fortress in the Southern wild as a safe house in the event of eschaton. Paterfamilias Brent says, as paraphrased in a story in the New York Daily News, that when the end comes, “It will be every family for itself, and [Brent] likes the chances of a family that has a good supply of food and water, plus the means to obtain and produce more.” The show is a spinoff of NatGeo’s top-rated program, Doomsday Preppers — “preppers” being survivalists, those who stockpile weapons and food and prepare for — one might say hope for — the worst.

There are extremists in society, as everyone with an internet connection knows. Doomsday shows popularize and, to some extent, legitimize this fringe element. After all, it’s one more perspective among a multitude — as many as there are channels on your cable or satellite feed. In American TV democracy, a prepper is no better or worse than a crab fisherman, cupcake radical, or beauty pageanteer, so long as he or she makes for good TV.

The Doomsday duo highlights our society’s reptilian subconscious. We can be an aggressively fearful species, accumulating more guns packing greater firepower, all on the premise of “what if?” The problem is that it’s boring to have guns and never get to use them, even canned food eventually goes bad, and an unnecessary underground bunker just makes you look like a fool and an asshole.

Thus is contextualized AMC’s The Walking Dead, the number-one scripted hour on TV — an unprecedented feat given that it airs on basic cable. Set in the South, about a zombie plague and the living handful who endure it, The Walking Dead is inconsistent but provides serious gory fun, a midnight meat train to Georgia. There’s always at least one moment per episode where I laugh, usually involving a toothy zombie and an exploded special-effects bladder of red goo.

Pop culture both emulates and influences us — though there are deniers who see it as a one-way relationship — because it’s a conversation between creator and viewer. One reading of The Walking Dead is that it is a fantasy in which the federal government is destroyed, power is optimized on a micro-local level, the individual is supreme, “be prepared” armament-gathering is brilliant forward-thinking, and standing one’s ground is necessary and right. It’s kill or be killed: prepper wish-fulfillment where they are the heroes.

Though only two episodes in, Season 4 of The Walking Dead appears to offer a mild critique of this perspective. Troublingly, The Walking Dead has always justified a fear of “the Other” — crucially, zombies look like humans but are still monsters it’s morally okay to kill. Under new producer Scott Gimple, a course correction is under way: Amazingly, it seems to be saying that there is, in fact, a wrong way to watch the show. In the first episode of the new season, Tyreese (Chad L. Coleman) is discomfited when zombies are slaughtered and a pair of children discuss the difference between the undead and the alive: “They had names when they were alive. They’re dead now,” one kid says. The other replies, “No, they’re not. They’re just different.”

We survived Y2K, 2012, and other man-made foretellings of the last days, but the monsters never came, so we’ve had to create some new ones. Our end-times fetishism continues unabated. Maybe The Walking Dead will become about something we don’t want to happen.

The Walking Dead

Sundays, 8 p.m.

AMC

Doomsday Preppers

Season 3 premiers Tuesday, October 29th, 8 p.m.

National Geographic

Doomsday Castle

Season 1 available on iTunes and Amazon Instant

National Geographic

Categories
Sing All Kinds We Recommend

Indie Memphis Announces Innovation Program

onion.png

More pieces of the fast-approaching Indie Memphis Film Festival are falling into place. Today, the fest announced the lineup of its “Innovation” component — a series of seminars and discussions about creativity and technology.

Headlining the program is Mike McAvoy, president of Onion, Inc., the satire news organization that wins the Internet on a daily basis. Saturday will feature a discussion on digitizing Ernest Withers’ extensive photographic archive, a forum on childhood obesity and media culture with experts from Le Bonheur Children’s Hospital, and Michael Jordan vs. Charlie Sheen, presented by Rembert Browne of Grantland.

All Innovation programs are free and open to the public.

Now would also be an opportune time to take a look at the Indie Memphis schedule, which is filling out with some great classic film screenings, parties, and food events. There’s also a nifty bike share program to provide wheels to festival attendees.

The full lineup from Indie Memphis is below:

[jump]

Friday, November 1st 

Content Marketing with The Onion: Mike McAvoy, President of multimedia news organization Onion Inc., discusses The Onion’s varied and complimentary channels of satire, entertainment news via The AV Club, and branded content.

Michael Shiloh, Community Liaison at Arduino, a company that fuses open-source technology and art for the creation of interactive objects and environments. An engineer who has taught at numerous universities, Michael’s art includes robotic sculpture, the design of embedded hardware and software for high-speed image processing, and a lifetime of curious tinkering and creating experimental machine art.

Saturday, November 2nd 
Digitizing the Ernest Withers Archive: Filmmakers, historians and technologists will share their ideas about ways to make the over one million photos — covering 60 years of African-American, civil rights, music and Memphis history — accessible over the Web. 

Forum on new approaches to the childhood obesity epidemic with Le Bonheur Children’s Hospital:  A discussion on storytelling and changing culture, along with experts on leveraging big data and gamification in the fight against childhood obesity. Participants include Dr. Jonathan McCullers, Dunavant Professor and Chair, Pediatrician-in-Chief at Le Bonheur; Dr. Joan Han, Director of Le Bonheur Healthy Lifestyles Program; and filmmaker Alison Bagnall.

Michael Jordan vs. Charlie Sheen: Rembert Browne of Grantland presents the vintage 80s rarity, War of the Stars, featuring Michael Jordan taking on Charlie and Martin Sheen in a ferocious hoops contest, and discussed its larger cultural implications.

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Heaven and Hell

Two films playing in Memphis this week highlight the best man is capable of (Gravity) and the worst (The Act of Killing). Each film is an astonishing, immensely compelling, emotional juggernaut that breaks new ground on what cinema can be by reasserting its unique power to transform and immerse the viewer. If Gravity and The Act of Killing don’t wind up as the two best films of the year, well, I can’t wait to see what comes next.

Gravity is the latest from great director Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men, Y Tu Mamá También, the best Harry Potter movie). Children of Men might be the best film of the twenty-aughts. Gravity might be better. Stone (Sandra Bullock) and Kowalski (George Clooney) are astronauts on a space-walk mission to repair the Hubble telescope. Against the gorgeous backdrop of Earth and the cosmos, they are almost imperceptibly tiny. While Stone nervously tries to fix an electronic component, Kowalski patrols in a jet pack, swooping in and out and around the Space Shuttle and telescope and regaling those on his radio frequency with the same bawdy stories for the thousandth time. They hear from Mission Control (the voice of Ed Harris, a nice casting gimmick) that a Russian satellite has broken apart, destroying nearby objects, and that a debris field may be on its way toward their location. Kowalski keeps the mood light as they abort their mission and prepare to evacuate the area. Before they can safely react, the shrapnel storm tears into the tiny bit of space they occupy, shredding the shuttle, destroying communications with Houston, and sending the crew careening. Stone becomes untethered and panics as she loses physical contact with the ship and her companions. She spins and spins away into the darkness. All this takes place in the first shot of the film, clocking in at 17 minutes.

That’s the kind of thing Gravity is, Cuarón’s camera constantly on the move, the actors a pair of dancers in the dark performing a ballet of impressive choreography, the special effects taking us to a place we’ve been before but never to such a dazzling degree.

On one hand, Gravity is spectacular because of its technical accomplishments: not only the long takes and camerawork but the brilliant cinematography (Emmanuel Lubezki) and utilization of 3D, the best anyone has ever done in part because space is already the ultimate 3D environment. Gravity, and the lack thereof, has never before seemed so palpable a force. On the other hand, Gravity is a masterpiece because it puts within this technical framework the sublimely relatable humanity we’ve come to expect from a Cuarón production. Not unlike Children of Men, Gravity is about a primordial human ideal: trying to do the right thing in crisis, being good to others, and finding rebirth even amidst death.

Gravity is science and it’s fiction, but it’s not science fiction. It follows some established cliffhanger adventure film formulas, but it performs them with novelty and attention to detail. Gravity‘s collisions in space are possibly the most thrilling thing I’ve ever seen. And Bullock is phenomenal. Pro tip #1: See Gravity in 3D, not just because, but because the glasses will help cover up your tears when you cry. Pro tip #2: In space, no one can hear you scream, but in the theater people can still hear you sob even if they can’t see your face.

I watched Gravity with my hand over my mouth in amazement. I watched The Act of Killing with my head in my hands in amazement. Joshua Oppenheimer’s documentary is screening at the Memphis Brooks Museum of Art on Thursday, October 10th, and it should not to be missed.

Like Gravity, The Act of Killing gets considerable mileage out of the way it tells a typical story with conceptual brilliance. The film considers the evil that man does against others and to himself. In an introduction to the movie, Oppenheimer says that there isn’t such a thing as good people and bad people but that evil is committed by regular human beings. This banality and universality of evil is explored specifically in the instance of the Indonesian coup of 1965, during which, in less than a year, more than 1 million “Communists” were murdered by the military, paramilitary, and “gangsters” — criminals who served as executioners for personal gain. Not only were the perpetrators of genocide not held accountable, they’re actually still in power.

The Act of Killing finds men such as Anwar Congo and Herman Koto, who personally killed thousands of people, walking unmolested today, hailed as victors and establishment elite. Filmmaker Oppenheimer does something so courageous and simple that it leads to a film that almost can’t be believed. He has these men, who are war criminals to our eyes, recreate their personal scenes of mass killing and rape for his camera, set at the same places they occurred. Further, he has them perform these sequences in classic Hollywood styles of cinema, such as musicals and film noir. It works, because the men know that their atrocities have been deemed justifiable by their society. No one judged them back then, so what do they have to fear now? “This is who we are!” one says. They fully expect Oppenheimer’s film to be a gateway to even more celebrity and adoration.

Congo is the “star” of the picture; he’s an old, white-haired man now. He laughs and jokes with his contemporaries about what they did. (It makes you wonder what kind of poker face the camera operator must have had to develop.) “Here was the paramilitary office, where I always killed people,” he says without inflection. But, over the course of the filming, he opens up more and more about the terrible toll his actions have taken on his psyche.

The figures in the documentary attribute power to cinema itself: They say they were emulating cruelty and sadism they saw in American films. If so, then The Act of Killing brings the medium full-circle, capable of revealing truth in the make-believe of performance. The ending, which I can’t give away, rivals anything on theater screens in memory.

Gravity

Now playing

Multiple locations

The Act of Killing

Thursday, October 10th, 7 p.m.

Memphis Brooks Museum of Art

$8/$6 Brooks members

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Heaven and Hell

Two films playing in Memphis this week highlight the best man is capable of (Gravity) and the worst (The Act of Killing). Each film is astonishing, immensely compelling, emotional juggernauts that break new ground on what cinema can be by reasserting its unique power to transform and immerse the viewer. If Gravity and The Act of Killing don’t wind up as the two best films of the year, well, I can’t wait to see what comes next.

Gravity is the latest from great director Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men, Y Tu Mamá También, the best Harry Potter movie). Children of Men might be the best film of the twenty-aughts. Gravity might be better. Stone (Sandra Bullock) and Kowalski (George Clooney) are astronauts on a space-walk mission to repair the Hubble telescope. Against the gorgeous backdrop of Earth and the cosmos, they are almost imperceptibly tiny. While Stone nervously tries to fix an electronic component, Kowalski patrols in a jet pack, swooping in and out and around the Space Shuttle and telescope and regaling those on his radio frequency with the same bawdy stories for the thousandth time. They hear from Mission Control (the voice of Ed Harris, a nice casting gimmick) that a Russian satellite has broken apart, destroying nearby objects, and that a debris field may be on its way toward their location. Kowalski keeps the mood light as they abort their mission and prepare to evacuate the area. Before they can safely react, the shrapnel storm tears into the tiny bit of space they occupy, shredding the shuttle, destroying communications with Houston, and sending the crew careening. Stone becomes untethered and panics as she loses physical contact with the ship and her companions. She spins and spins away into the darkness. All this takes place in the first shot of the film, clocking in at 17 minutes.

That’s the kind of thing Gravity is, Cuarón’s camera constantly on the move, the actors a pair of dancers in the dark performing a ballet of impressive choreography, the special effects taking us to a place we’ve been before but never to such a dazzling degree.

On one hand, Gravity is spectacular because of its technical accomplishments: not only the long takes and camerawork but the brilliant cinematography (Emmanuel Lubezki) and utilization of 3D, the best anyone has ever done in part because space is already the ultimate 3D environment. Gravity, and the lack thereof, has never before seemed so palpable a force. On the other hand, Gravity is a masterpiece because it puts within this technical framework the sublimely relatable humanity we’ve come to expect from a Cuarón production. Not unlike Children of Men, Gravity is about a primordial human ideal: trying to do the right thing in crisis, being good to others, and finding rebirth even amidst death.

Gravity is science and it’s fiction, but it’s not science fiction. It follows some established cliffhanger adventure film formulas, but it performs them with novelty and attention to detail. Gravity‘s collisions in space are possibly the most thrilling thing I’ve ever seen. And Bullock is phenomenal. Pro tip #1: See Gravity in 3D, not just because, but because the glasses will help cover up your tears when you cry. Pro tip #2: In space, no one can hear you scream, but in the theater people can still hear you sob even if they can’t see your face.

I watched Gravity with my hand over my mouth in amazement. I watched The Act of Killing with my head in my hands in amazement. Joshua Oppenheimer’s documentary is screening at the Memphis Brooks Museum of Art on Thursday, October 10th, and it should not to be missed.

Like Gravity, The Act of Killing gets considerable mileage out of the way it tells a typical story with conceptual brilliance. The film considers the evil that man does against others and to himself. In an introduction to the movie, Oppenheimer says that there isn’t such a thing as good people and bad people but that evil is committed by regular human beings. This banality and universality of evil is explored specifically in the instance of the Indonesian coup of 1965, during which, in less than a year, more than 1 million “Communists” were murdered by the military, paramilitary, and “gangsters” — criminals who served as executioners for personal gain. Not only were the perpetrators of genocide not held accountable, they’re actually still in power.

The Act of Killing finds men such as Anwar Congo and Herman Koto, who personally killed thousands of people, walking unmolested today, hailed as victors and establishment elite. Filmmaker Oppenheimer does something so courageous and simple that it leads to a film that almost can’t be believed. He has these men, who are war criminals to our eyes, recreate their personal scenes of mass killing and rape for his camera, set at the same places they occurred. Further, he has them perform these sequences in classic Hollywood styles of cinema, such as musicals and film noir. It works, because the men know that their atrocities have been deemed justifiable by their society. No one judged them back then, so what do they have to fear now? “This is who we are!” one says. They fully expect Oppenheimer’s film to be a gateway to even more celebrity and adoration.

Congo is the “star” of the picture; he’s an old, white-haired man now. He laughs and jokes with his contemporaries about what they did. (It makes you wonder what kind of poker face the camera operator must have had to develop.) “Here was the paramilitary office, where I always killed people,” he says without inflection. But, over the course of the filming, he opens up more and more about the terrible toll his actions have taken on his psyche.

The figures in the documentary attribute power to cinema itself: They say they were emulating cruelty and sadism they saw in American films. If so, then The Act of Killing brings the medium full-circle, capable of revealing truth in the make-believe of performance. The ending, which I can’t give away, rivals anything on theater screens in memory.

Gravity

Now playing

Multiple locations

The Act of Killing

Thursday, October 10th, 7 p.m.


Memphis Brooks Museum of Art


$8/$6 Brooks members