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(Indie 300)
Hello, racefans.
Over the past week, I took in a triple header of indie films. Ê One I had already seen. One I hope no one ever sees. And one is the best experience I have had in a theater in a long, long time.
I have already raved in these... uh... pages, about a tiny film that says it all, Raising Victor Vargas. It was great the first time, and it holds up on a second viewing. ÊThe scenes where the young, pudgy Carlos pursues Victor's equally pudgy, dismissive sister provide some of my favorite moments. "Hi" "I'm Carlos" "You wanna talk about something?" He throws up. True. It is so true. It reminds me of young Bewley and his attempts with one Holly Jo Gigillio. (Holly, if you're out there - give me call. I'm sorry.)
Vargas was paired in a double feature at the most awesome Balboa Theater, with Blue Car. This was a film I had heard a respected colleague rave about on the radio waves. Well my friend, how do I say this? YOU ARE WRONG. This movie was a pandering, plodding, cliche ridden sack of dysfunctional horse crap.
Let's count the doo-doo points:
The kid who won't eat and sees angels ends up throwing herself out the window to see if she can fly, check.
Disturbed student who gets a crush on her married, older English teacher. Hey I saw American Beauty, did you? That movie sucked, too. There's a reason the bowels are one way. Shit supposed come out once.
The source of all the problems...it's divorce. I was hoping for aliens, too. Cause that would have rocked. I give you a better idea, free of charge: We see an upset girl. She's writing poetry. Her sister is cutting herself and wishing she was a... bat... and then you flashback to what happened. ALIENS! OH NO! Her self-absorbed mom is being ripped in half by aliens pretending to be trees. THEY ARE EVERYWHERE! And now, she's kind of upset. So THEN she enters a poetry contest, and then... uh... you can pretty do the rest of the film. That part would just make it waayyyy better.
There was other stuff, too, but even some generally decent acting could not save a film that was probably in development, too long. As in, someone wrote this as groundbreaking in 1990. Now it's just stuff that has been rehashed so many times (isn't there a weird divorce subplot with Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park 2?) it just doesn't make sense. Or at least, it's a waste of my time.
Thirdly, the best film I have seen in awhile has to be Spellbound. It's that documentary about spelling bees. And it packs an emotional wallop. I don't want to give anything away, but it follows five or six competitors from around the country as they head to the National Dorkfest that is the Howard Scripps Spelling Bee Championships. I cried. I cried with joy when one girl one a regional competition. The tears also came with laughter when a local chain store recognizes one of the young spellers on their billboard. It was also great, cause the cutie hipster behind me was laughing at the same stuff, and at one point, which would have been awesome if we were on a date, we cracked each other up. The aforementioned sign got her going, and it set me off, and then our laughing was getting each other laughing. That's like movie sex as far as I am concerned. And if there is a film where I get to learn how to spell words, cry, and have movie sex... uh, yeah, I'm there.
Bewley-out. |
