Fans of exploitation and b-movies should certainly be aware of the legacy of Roger Corman. His frugal brand of sensational cinema is responsible for such classics as Deathrace 2000, Little Shop of Horrors, and The Trip. He also kickstarted the careers of some of the best actors and directors of our time. For the casual movie-goer, his name may not be immediately recognizable, but there’s no questioning his influence on modern moviemaking. Director Alex Stapleton’s documentary Corman’s World: Exploits of a Hollywood Rebel tells the tale of this b-movie mogul’s rise to not-quite fame and not-quite fortune.

The film follows a fairly straight-lined trajectory, retracing Roger Corman’s career starting with his early days as a messenger at 20th Century Fox. Eventually he worked his way up as a story reader, providing creative notes on scripts that came across his desk. In the film he talks specifically about his work on The Gunfighter, starring Gregory Peck, which he received no credit for. This was the deciding factor that drove him to leave Fox. Soon Corman would be writing and directing his own movies for American International Pictures. While most of his films at the time were low budget genre pictures, Corman took a more serious turn with The Intruder, featuring a young William Shatner. The film dealt with racial segregation and civil rights, but ultimately wasn’t the critical or financial success he’d hoped for. It was his big screen adaptations of the works of Edgar Allen Poe — typically starring Vincent Price — that brought him the acclaim he was looking for. From there, Corman founded New World Pictures and began cranking out films like Rock ‘n’ Roll High School, Galaxy of Terror, and Piranha. While his films have remained cult classics, many of the filmmakers Corman employed have gone on to great success, including Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, Jonathan Demme, John Sayles, James Cameron, Joe Dante, and Ron Howard. New World Pictures was a breeding ground for young talent. While everyone was moving on to great critical and financial success, Corman continued toiling in the world of b-movies.

While the majority of Corman’s World is a retrospective of Corman’s body of work, it opens with an observational framing device following Roger as he oversees the filming of his latest monster movie masterpiece, Dino-Shark. Some might assume that Corman is trapped within the confines of the b-movie world, but there’s nothing depressing about a man who sticks to doing what he loves while rejecting the temptations of big budget Hollywood blockbusters. You get a sense that he could be making multi-million dollar blockbusters, but simply refuses to do so. In one piece of footage from the Tom Snyder show, Corman describes the ever-increasing Hollywood budgets as obscene, insisting that some better money management could free up those funds for more important, world changing endeavours. It was the birth of the blockbuster with Jaws and Star Wars that seemed to have the biggest affect on Corman’s world. Suddenly b-movies were a-movies and he was competing directly with similarly themed films featuring bigger stars and bigger budgets. Still, he managed to continue to produce and benefited from the birth of the home video market, which was the perfect platform for his work. There’s an awareness throughout the film of a lack of appreciation towards Corman’s legacy. Penelope Spheeris says she thinks that the average 25 year old cinephile wouldn’t know who Roger is, but I find that hard to believe. They might not know his work specifically, but I would imagine they would’ve heard of him. As a response to this lack of recognition, the film builds towards Corman’s lifetime achievement Oscar cermony, which works as a satisfying pre-mature button on a long and influential career.

Corman’s World boasts an insanely impressive list of interviews, including appearances by some of the top talent to emerge from Corman’s golden years of cinema. Robert DeNiro makes a brief but uncharacteristically enthusiastic appearance, and his pal Marty (Scorsese) also chimes in with his thoughts on shooting Boxcar Bertha. We also hear from Jonathan Demme, Joe Dante, Ron Howard, Pam Grier, Bruce Dern, and of course, the great Dick Miller. Peter Fonda shows up to discuss his roles in the various Hell’s Angel’s and LSD inspired films, and Jack Nicholson talks about Easy Rider being the opportunity that Roger let slip through the cracks. In fact, Nicholson’s interviews are probably the best in the film. He was heavily involved in Corman’s movies, working as a writer, director, and actor. He clearly respects his roots and has never forgotten where he came from. There’s a really touching moment where Jack actually chokes up when trying to stress how much respect he truly has for tCorman and the opportunity he provided him. Along with the veterans, we hear from modern filmmakers who were inspired by these films, including Eli Roth, Paul W.S. Anderson, and the now deceased George Hickenlooper. Oddly, Quentin Tarantino (who tends to pop up in all of these types of docs) appears only in footage at Corman’s lifetime achievement Oscar ceremony. I would’ve loved to hear him share his thoughts on some of his favourite Corman films as he’s always an energetic and passionate speaker.

Not unlike Mark Hartley’s ‘Not Quite Hollywood’ and ‘Machete Maidens Unleashed’ (which also touches on Roger Corman’s work in the Philippenes), film fans will have a blast with Corman’s World. While hardcore cinephiles might not need the history lesson, I think most people will have a lot of fun watching some familiar stars of the film world discuss their early careers working with Roger Corman. There’re tons of great clips from various movies that will definitely send some people off to the video store (if one still exists in your town) with a list of must-rent DVD’s. Whether you’re a Corman expert or not, Corman’s World is defiitely worth the watch. — Jay C.

I’m always a bit skeptical going in to documentaries about artists or musicians. On one hand, there are the films that are designed for fans of the artists work, focused solely on celebrating the creative output and providing educated perspectives from critics and peers. Then there are the artist bio’s that go above and beyond, examining the work but also telling a great story with conflict, drama, and great characters (see The Devil and Daniel Johnston, Crumb). Calvet falls in the latter category, focusing less on Jean Marc Calvet’s paintings and more on the turmoil he experienced that led him down a previously unexplored path as an artist at the age of 38.

Calvet tells the story of Jean Marc Calvet, a successful French painter with a tortured past. When we first meet him, he’s recounting a story to a group of students, explaining the meaning behind one of his paintings. He recalls the times he would rush his son off to school; precious moments that he took for granted. It’s been years since he’s seen his estranged son, and he has himself to blame. After abandoning his family for an opportunity to work as a bodyguard in the US, Jean Marc spirals down a dangerous path leading towards some hardcore drug use and a lot of wasted potential. Back then he would’ve never had thought he would become a great artist, but it took losing almost everything — including his own life — to experience a moment of inspiration that would change everything. After locking himself inside an apartment for nine months and binging on crack and alcohol, Calvet resigned that he would die there, alone. It was the discovery of a bucket of paint and a fit of rage that led to him covering the walls of the cul-de-sac with an array of abstract works of art. It was then that he discovered the perfect outlet for all of that pain and regret he’d been building up inside of him for all of those years. At the age of 38, he discovered his passion for art.

Calvet is a beautifully imagined film told in a cinematic and energetic fashion. Director Dominic Allan was fortunate to be blessed with such a vibrant, animated subject who’s utterly fearless on camera and completely willing to talk about anything and everything. Calvet’s abilities as a storyteller help put the audience in the moment, bringing a level of urgency to a tale that took place years ago. While the events leading up to his discovery of his love of art are retrospective, Calvet’s attempt to contact his son is an event covered in-the-moment in the final act of the film. It’s a great mini-mystery that’s built up throughout the body of the narrative, resulting in an overall sense of tension and anxiety that really had me pulled in to the story. It’s an interesting situation considering Calvet’s past and the change he’s made in his life. He’s a complex and deep character and it’s not as clear cut as just expecting that he has the right to jump back into his son’s life. He’s as aware of this as he struggles to write a letter to his boy, keeping his emotions and feelings in check, deciding against signing off as ‘Dad’. It makes for a pretty interesting internal struggle and a great element of drama in a film that could’ve aimed to simply showcase his work through the eyes of his critics and peers. To understand his art, all we really need to know is his story. Dominic Allan handles this with grace and respect and creates a dramatic, inspirational film that captures the essence of the art and the complexity of the artist Jean Marc Calvet. — Jay C.

Calvet screens at the DOC NYC festival on Saturday November 5th at 4:30pm and Monday, November 7th at 1:45pm at the IFC Centre in NYC. For more information, visit the film’s official website.

Be sure to check out Calvet’s official website for more information and receive updates by ‘liking’ the official Facebook Page.

Upcoming screenings of Calvet:

Thursday 24/11/2011 – 18.40
Cameo Picturehouse
EDINBURGH
http://www.picturehouses.co.uk/film/Calvet/
- Tickets on sale now online or by tel 0871 902 5723
- Q&A with Director

Friday 25/11/2011 – times TBC
Saturday 26/11/2011
Sunday 27/11/2011 – 17.00
Monday 28/11/2011
Cambridge Picturehouse
CAMBRIDGE
http://www.picturehouses.co.uk/cinema/Arts_Picturehouse_Cambridge/
- Tickets on sale from 21st November online or at box office 0871 902 5720
- Q&A with Director on Sunday afternoon only

Saturday 26/11/2011 – 16.00
Sunday 27/11/2011 – 16.00
Queen Film Theatre
BELFAST
http://www.queensfilmtheatre.com/films/calvet/
- Tickets on sale now online or at box office 028 9097 1097
- Q&A with Director (Saturday only) & Executive Producer

Sunday 04/12/2011 – 15.00 TBC
Electric Cinema, Portobello Road
LONDON
http://www.electriccinema.co.uk/
- Tickets on sale from 25th November online or at box office 020 7908 9696
- Q&A with Director

Tuesday 06/12/2011 – 18.00
FACT Picturehouse
LIVERPOOL
http://www.picturehouses.co.uk/film/Calvet/
- Tickets on sale now online or at box office 0871 902 5737
- Q&A with Director

Thursday 08/12/2011 – 20.30
The Tricycle
LONDON
http://www.tricycle.co.uk/current-programme-pages/cinema-program/cinema/calvet/
- Tickets on sale now online or at box office 020 7328 1000
- Q&A with Director

Monday 12/12/2011 – 20.30
Greenwich Picturehouse
LONDON
http://www.picturehouses.co.uk/film/Calvet/
- Tickets on sale now online or at box office 0871 902 5732
- Q&A with Director

Tuesday 13/12/2011 – 23.00
TV broadcast on MORE4
http://www.channel4.com/programmes/tags/more4

With films like The Social Network and Moneyball receiving so much critical praise and financial success, it’s surprising that it’s taken this long to see a documentary film focused on technology based startup businesses and youthful ingenuity. Ctrl+Alt+Compete attempts to take a stab at the newly defined sub-genre with varying results, focusing on a group of five CEO’s hoping to be the next Mark Zuckerberg.

Ctrl+Alt+Compete follows a pretty simple formula, focusing on a handful of young CEO’s navigating the many challenges they face in keeping their companies afloat and ultimately turning a profit. Beyond the featured subjects, a number of seasoned entrepreneurs share their insights and perspectives on success and failure in the world of business. In the first third of the film we’re introduced to two CEO’s taking part in some sort of pitching forum in hopes to gain some financial support. One is Josh Sookman, founder and chief executive officer of Guardly, an emergency communication application for smartphones. He’s joined by Joanne Lang, CEO of Aboutone.com, an “online family management system”. We watch as the two rehearse their speeches and manage the technical details of their presentations, knowing that a single mistake or slip up could mean a financial lost opportunity. This section reminded me of tournament style docs of the past (Spellbound, Mad Hot Ballroom, Word Play, etc.) and was probably the most accessible sequence of the film. There was a point though when I was hoping for something a little more directly related to business beyond the examination of ones nerves during a public presentation.

Just when things were starting to feel a little bit like an episode of The Apprentice, the film switches gears and introduces us to a new group of folks. The most interesting of the bunch are the guys behind Supergiant Games, an indie video game company consisting of ex-EA employees. I myself used to work in the game industry and I’ve always thought there’s a documentary to be made about the production of video games; more specifically, indie games. In the film we see the crew attending GDC (Game Developers Conference) with their game Bastion, which was up for awards in audio and art. The fact that these guys split off form a much bigger company to do their own thing is interesting, especially considering the competition in the game world. With so many big budget franchise titles drawing most of the attention, it seems like a challenge trying to get your tiny indie game noticed. On the other hand, with so many big and expensive games taking up so much time and money in the industry and from consumers, these smaller games might be the sort of relief that the industry needs. It’s an interesting topic that’s touched on in the film but not really explored in depth (which is fine, as this isn’t a documentary about gaming).

Ctrl+Alt+Compete was produced by Microsoft, which immediately had me wondering what sort of benefit or conflict of interest may exist within the content. Maybe somebody smarter than me could draw some sort of connection, but I thought there was a level of transparency that wasn’t really troubling or problematic. It seems as though the film was just an opportunity to showcase the sort of young, inventive minds that Microsoft has benefited from over the years. By the end of the film it’s quite clear that building a startup business like the ones featured in the film is extremely difficult and requires a lot of knowledge and dedication. Unfortunately, we don’t really spend enough time with the subjects to fully appreciate the work put into their business and the long term results of their efforts. I think the main problem with the film is the fact that it plays out in two extremes, unable to decide if it’s a film for everybody or a film for business majors. Just when it feels like things might be overly simplified, the subject matter shifts towards more complex, dry material that some might find boring. Because of this, Ctrl+Alt+Compete can feel very didactic, almost like an industrial video at times. Aesthetically, it’s well made and quite glossy, but again, it has moments where it feels like you’re watching a commercial rather than a film. However, the look does seem to fit the subject matter well.

I think business majors and like minded entrepreneurs would get something out of Ctrl+Alt+Compete that the average viewer may miss. Anybody who fully understands the challenges faced by these young CEO’s should appreciate this look at what it takes to make it in business in the internet-age. For the rest of us, it’s an inside look at the people behind some of our favourite companies and technologies, giving us an idea of the hard work and perseverance that goes in to finding that perfect business model and building it into something successful. I’m not sure the film is for everyone, but there’s definitely an audience out there for Ctrl+Alt+Compete. — Jay C.

I’ve never watched a boxing match from beginning to end in my entire life, yet I’m completely drawn to films about the sport. Like baseball, boxing is seeped in tradition and rich with human drama; something filmmakers have been able to tap into with great success. On behalf of ESPN Films, director Jeff Feuerzeig (The Devil and Daniel Johnston) tackles the story of Chuck Wepner and his historic fight against Muhammad Ali and the influence it had on Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky. It’s a true underdog story that’s rich in drama and a perfect opportunity for some great cinematic storytelling.

For those unfamiliar with Chuck Wepner, it’s probably easiest — although maybe a disservice — to simply describe him as the title of this film suggests: the real Rocky. It was his match with Muhammad Ali in 1975 that inspired the Academy Award winning film, jumpstarting a franchise that has since generated over a billion dollars. Like the story of the film, Wepner was picked out of obscurity to fight Ali in an underdog match that resulted in him going fifteen rounds with arguably the greatest boxer who ever lived. Even though Ali won the decision in the end, Wepner’s heart and determination resonated with the crowd and boxing fans around the world. He even knocked Ali down in the ninth round, which would later be disputed by those who thought he unfairly stepped on Ali’s foot. It’s a great underdog story and proof that we simply can’t resist rooting for someone who’s facing unsurmountable odds. It’s interesting considering the fact that Ali was himself a sort of underdog in his historic match against George Foreman, as detailed in the amazing film When We Were Kings. In that case I was rooting FOR Ali. In his match against Wepner, I was quite clearly rooting AGAINST him. I suppose the romance of the underdog story even trumps the charms of Muhammad Ali.

Now 72 years old, Wepner tells his story directly to the camera in extreme close up, giving us opportunity to examine the remnants of every fight he’s ever fought. This stylized presentation is heightened by a black and white sequence set in a classic boxing bar as old school sports writers smoke cigars and reminisce about the days of Wepner’s fight and whether or not his Ali knockdown was legit. There’s also discussion of Wepner’s nickname, “The Bayonne Bleeder”, referencing a match with Sonny Liston that resulted in 120 stitches in his face. All of the roundtable reminiscing plays like a celebration of the sport and the traditions surrounding it. It also captures the feel of a history of boxing on screen, indulging in some of the cinematic tropes that have come to be associated with the sport. The opening sequence of the film sees Wepner on a Rocky-esque run, ending with him jogging up the stairs at the Stephen R. Gregg-Bayonne County Park in New Jersey. This where he actually used to train, and it’s believed by some that the famous scene in Rocky, along with the character himself, was directly inspired by Wepner. Sylvester Stallone would disagree.

While the heart of the film is Wepner’s fight with Ali, there’s another underdog battle brewing. With Rocky having gone on to make billions of dollars worldwide, Chuck Wepner feels he deserves a small piece of the pie in exchange for the use of elements of his life story. Stallone, however, claims that Rocky is NOT Wepner and seems to downplay the actual influence the famous fight with Ali actually had on the creation of the film. It’s strange considering the fact that he admits Apollo Creed was directly influenced by Muhammad Ali and admits to getting the idea for the character while in attendance at the infamous Ali/Wepner match. The film goes on to draw other similarities to Wepner’s story, including an exhibition match against Andre the Giant, which seemed to be directly lifted by Stallone in Rocky III in which the Italian Stallion fights Hulk Hogan. Coincidence? Not likely. Still, the controversy doesn’t affect my love of the franchise, but I do think it would be nice if Wepner didn’t have to result to a lawsuit in order to get the credit (and money) he deserves. I may have been rooting for Rocky in his on-screen match against Apollo Creed, but in the case of Chuck, i’m with Wepner all the way. — Jay C.

The Real Rocky will air October 25th at 9pm ET on ESPN/ESPN HD as a part of ESPN Films. Be sure to check it out!

Dragonslayer is a film so drenched in skate culture, it’s fair to say that an interest in said culture is probably beneficial to one’s ability to fully love this film. Having said that, I come from a perspective of little-to-no interest in skateboarding yet I still managed to find something worthwhile in the creative vision behind this tale of a down-and-out ex-professional skateboarder dealing with unexpected fatherhood while searching for the perfect empty pools to skate.

The film follows Josh “Screech” Sandoval as he navigates a teenage existence of drugs, parties, skating, and travelling; all while trying to be a Dad. Actually, I’m not even sure of Screech is a technically a teenager, but he certainly carries himself in the same disaffected, irresponsible, self-centred fashion. The film is a sort of coming of age tale, taking place during an endless summer that consists mostly of getting high and invading backyards to take advantage of empty pools throughout the suburbs of Fullerton, California. There’s a sense of wasted potential on display as Screech attempts to rationalize his decision to leave pro-skating while remaining ‘active’ by giving half-assed performances at small skate competitions. Luckily he manages to hook up with a girl who seems equally lethargic and the perfect companion with which to waste the summer away. In one scene the couple takes Screech’s new baby to a zoo. It’s his first day out alone with the kid and his inability to re-assemble the collapsable stroller shows his level of involvement in the upbringing of his son. It’s probably for the best. Some might find a way to romanticize this story as kids coming of age, but I couldn’t get past my distaste for practically everybody in this film to approach things from such an ideal perspective. (I say this cautiously and with a degree of trepidation as my experience with these people is limited only to the running time of this film.)

HAVING SAID ALL OF THAT…Dragonslayer does feel like an authentic experience and that’s what elevated it beyond it’s characters for me. It’s stylized and kinetic and that energy compliments the kids perfectly. You could say Dragonslayer is a sort of non-fiction, modern update of Kids, only with more skateboarding and less AIDS. No AIDS, in fact. These characters might make poor choices, but they’re not as flat out despicable as the teens in Larry Clark’s film. (It’s worth noting that both Kids and Dragonslayer were produced by indie icon Christine Vachon.) It’s also probably no coincidence that Dragonslayer is distributed by record label Drag City, who also released Harmony Korine’s lo-fi, found footage film Trash Humpers. While Dragonslayer might be a bit more accessible than something like Trash Humpers (or even Kids), it still exists within the same sub-genre of aimless hang-out films that indulge in the attitude, fashions, and aesthetics of a particular counter-culture. The thing I always struggle with in these films is the filmmaker’s insistence upon treating the actions of their characters as dysfunctional while glorifying their surroundings. Some of the weight of Josh’s decisions feels muted when placed against a punk rock soundtrack and music video aesthetics.

While Dragonslayer is shot quite well, there are a few seemingly superfluous artistic choices that stood out to me. Mainly the idea of breaking down the story into numbered chapters, counting backwards from ten. It seems like an attempt at bringing some order to the otherwise chaotic narrative, but I found myself questioning what seemed to be nothing more than a stylistic flourish. In fact, it almost gave me a false sense of impending doom or a hint of some cataclysmic event to come. It’s not really a deal breaker though. It was the dynamic editing style of Dragonslayer that caught my attention, even if some of the imagery seems stuck somewhere between a Vice Magazine photo spread and a Levi’s commercial. Still, there is some inspired filmmaking on display that’s refreshingly playful within the documentary constraints. I’m all for the sort of visual experimentation that Tristan Patterson injects into his film and I’m not about to discount it simply because I don’t have a vested interest in the subject matter.

The fact that I didn’t love Dragonslayer is irrelevant as I don’t think the goal of the film is wide scale acceptance. It’s mere existence seems rooted in provocation. It seems both willing to criticize the actions of its characters yet ready to call the viewer out on any judgement they might cast upon its subjects. The film is caught somewhere between cautionary and cool. Still, I do appreciate it as another interesting entry in the new generation modern documentary filmmakers who continually push the boundaries of non-fiction storytelling.
– Jay C.

DRAGONSLAYER THEATRICAL SCREENINGS (MORE DATES TBA)

11/04-11/10/11 – NEW YORK, NY @ Cinema Village
11/11-11/17/11 – LOS ANGELES, CA @ Downtown Independent (w/ additional screenings tba)
11/18-11/24/11 – SAN FRANCISCO, CA @ Roxie Cinema
11/18-11/24/11 – DALLAS, TX @ Texas Theatre
12/02-12/08/11- PORTLAND, OR @ TBC
12/02-12/08/11 – SEATTLE, WA @ Northwest Film Forum
12/02-12/08/11 – BELLINGHAM, WA @ Pickford Film Center

Back in 1995, documentary filmmakers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky flew down to West Memphis, Arkansas, to cover a murder trial that they thought would represent the callousness of today’s youth and the total deterioration of American values. Three teenagers had apparently decided to kill and decapitate three eight-year old boys on a whim. What they found, however, was something entirely different: a small town witch hunt, an incompetent justice system and mass hysteria. Despite a lack of complete lack of physical evidence, Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Miskelly were convicted and thrown behind bars before they could scarcely comprehend what had happened to them.

The resulting documentary Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills was a landmark film, not just because it told a story that was both gripping and shocking, but also because it started a movement. That movement, in part, led to Paradise Lost 2: Revelations, a sequel that focused on the battle to free the West Memphis Three (as they have since been labeled) and also raised suspicions about the possible involvement of the father of one of the murdered boys, John Mark Byers. Alas, a decade after the release of that film, they were all still serving life sentences, one of them on death row. Which brings us to Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory.

The third film in the series focuses on a plethora of new evidence that has been unearthed to potentially prove their innocence, and it also checks in with these people ten years later. In some ways, a lot has changed. Everyone seems to have a lot less hair for one thing, but it also seems that people have generally mellowed out. Damien and John Mark Byers have made amends, and the West Memphis Three have learned to accept their situation and make the best of it. Does time really heal all wounds?

The movie once again opens with ominous Metallica guitar riffs and swooping aerial shots of West Memphis, and then proceeds to attempt to summarize events from the previous two films. Although you could probably do an endless series of films about these characters and it would never get old, there is an incredible amount of recapping that eventually becomes necessary in order to keep new viewers up to speed. At first it feels that we will never get to any new material, but it slowly rekindles the feeling of outrage as we see all of the ridiculous decisions that were made along the way.

The majority of the film is concerned with presenting the evidence that has been gathered by new experts who were hired by the WM3 Legal Defense Fund. They have obtained new DNA evidence that wasn’t available with the technology they had at the time of the trial that does not link any of the West Memphis Three to the crime scene. Lorri Davis, a long time campaigner and now Damien’s wife, is among those who were instrumental in pushing for the evidence to be presented in court. Despite a statute allowing for post-conviction DNA testing, however, the request is initially denied due to a questionable interpretation of the law.

The DNA testing does reveal a new potential suspect, and even though the courts are not interested in hearing about it, the film indulges this possibility for a while. Compared with the previous film, however, the evidence is not as strong and the suspect is not nearly as riveting on screen as the fire and brimstone of John Mark Byers.

The big problem with reviewing this movie, of course, is that the cut shown at TIFF was essentially unfinished. As most people know by now, the West Memphis Three were finally released last month with ten-year suspended sentences. The details of the deal they made and their re-introduction to the real world after 18 years in prison is not covered by the film. I guess this is what happens when your movie is pushing for change — it can potentially rewrite the very story it is documenting, which is obviously a good thing, but means the filmmakers are one step behind.

Although Paradise Lost 3 is perhaps the tightest and most well-made of the three films thus far, it is a little less compelling content-wise, particularly if you’ve seen the first two films. The new ending will make it stronger and more satisfying to be sure, but it remains to be seen how much material they might leave for a possible fourth film. As it stands, Paradise Lost 3 serves as a solid conclusion to what is an amazing non-fiction trilogy. However, if a fourth film were to become a reality, it could end up being the non-essential middle chapter of an otherwise epic story. Only time will tell. — Sean

The tenth anniversary of 9/11 is now behind us, and along with it the litany of commemorative broadcasts, special presentations, and memorial tributes. While I’m not particularly bothered by the abundance of event coverage, I know there are lots of people who are burnt out on anything concerning the terrorist attacks on America. Still, there are some great documentary films that manage to overcome the typically sensational, overly maudlin trappings. Rebirth is certainly one of those projects that memorializes the events of that day by focusing on the people who were directly affected and the way in which they were forced to deal with unforeseen tragedy.

Director Jim Whitaker focuses on five people — all with very different stories — who lost loved ones or were injured on September 11th. He follows them for over a decade, breaking down the very personal healing process — both mentally, and physically — into chapters divided by year. In 2002, emotions run high and the shock has yet to wear off. Those who have lost loved ones are still overwhelmed by the disbelief that their mother/fiancee/friend is really gone. The fallout of the terrorist attack has changed everything. Families fall apart, future plans disintegrate, and physical wounds are still fresh. A teen who lost his mother resents his father for remarrying so quickly. A fiancee struggles with the concept of moving on and pursuing love. A woman’s burns turn to scars, pulling on her skin and limiting her mobility. Much like Michael Apted’s Up Series, we get to watch people grow as initial feelings of despair, hatred, and helplessness slowly subside as time passes. For a woman who lost her fiancee, the thought of finding love again was once unthinkable. Watching her come to the realization that it’s okay to move on is quite remarkable and you can empathize with that sort of internal struggle.

The film also contains time lapse footage of the reconstruction of ground zero, which works brilliantly against the more human ‘rebuilding’ taking place throughout the rest of the film. Fourteen 35mm motion picture film cameras are rolling 24 hours a day, capturing what will be the world’s longest running time lapse film in history. Rebirth contains much of this footage, but the project will continue until 2015, capturing the final construction of the 9/11 memorial and the ‘Freedom Tower’. One can’t help but be reminded of Koyanisqaatsi as the high speed urban imagery plays out through the film, accompanied by a great new score by Philip Glass. Although Rebirth is made up of mostly talking head interviews, there are some great cinematic moments throughout the film that are definitely heightened by Glass’ score. However, there are also some song choices that are less than inspired, including a cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah and Israel Kamakawiwo’s cover of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’; two songs which are criminally overused in movies. I suppose an argument could also be made for the overuse of Philip Glass in non-fiction filmmaking, but I still love his work.

I’m not sure Rebirth will successfully curb whatever cynicism some might have towards 9/11 and everything that surrounds it. All I can say is the film is less focused on the events of the day and more interested in the stories of the people and how they dealt with tragedy. Anyone who finds the ambitiousness of the Up Series intriguing should definitely check out Rebirth. — Jay C.

Told entirely through archive Asif Kapadia‘s Senna takes you through Brazilian Formula One champion Ayrton Senna‘s career from his days in go-karting through to his tragic death at thirty-four in the San Marino Grand Prix.

The film’s real triumph comes through its superb editing and astonishing use of archive. The archive usage is similar to this year’s Black Power Mixtape which also decides to forgo the use of talking head interviews and instead allows comment through voiceover alone, with on-screen captions. As with Mixtape, this is a very effective method as it keeps you absorbed in the footage allowing you to travel through a large timeframe seamlessly remaining engaged in the narrative path of the film.

It’s hard not to fall for Senna as a central character as he is portrayed as someone in love with driving, totally intolerant to the politics of his sport, and rebellious through principle. The choice to bring smaller, subtler moments of behind the scenes footage around the racing itself to the forefront gives you a greater sense of intimacy and understanding of the the atmosphere Senna experienced during his career.

The focus on Senna’s personal experience and mental state is completely understandable, he is incredibly engaging, and his apparent inability to conform to the game playing within his industry provides you with completely frank interviews. This makes him naturally stand out among his more media-savvy rivals in the film, as you rarely see similar levels of honesty from them. His career-long rivalry with teammate Alain Prost is wonderfully tense and dramatic, and beautifully told through extremely telling looks and comments in moments outside of the track.

However, I wish the archive had been allowed to speak for itself in places that were overly described, especially when depicting moments of extreme stress or conflict. My only other slight problem with the film, and this could be more a matter of taste or limitations of footage, was that I desperately wanted to see more of his experience while driving. It was obvious from the footage of the numerous races throughout the film that there were many aspects that made Senna exceptional, but I didn’t get a feeling for what the experience of driving itself meant to him. The one scene that I found most thrilling to watch, came straight after his win at the Brazilian Grand Prix, in which winning on home soil meant so much to him that the audio from his car allows you to hear him screaming with triumph and pride. Likewise, every moment from his car’s on-board camera was exhilarating, as was the footage and explanation as to why he was so much more capable during bad weather conditions, which really added to your perception of his qualities of his character, in addition to his capabilities within his profession – and left me hoping for further glimpses into that side of his experience.

Senna is a beautifully made film, with an extremely high level of skill through direction, editing and archive curation. It is a real example of how to create a thrilling and consuming portrait without relying on context through interview. Asif Kapadia has created a film that should not only please pre-existing fans of the sport and Senna, but will also captivate those who are interested in seeing a fascinating, and dramatic, personal experience.

The website for the film is here and the trailer is below.

Talihina Sky is the first documentary to delve into the past of the Kings of Leon, something people have been apparently sceptical about up until now. I have to admit up front to being extremely unfamiliar with the Kings of Leon as a band beyond their bigger hits, and their back story in general, for no other reason than innocent ignorance. This lack of familiarity didn’t hinder the experience of watching this film, as, with other music docs this year, this is, first and foremost, a story-driven documentary and a standard music doc, second.

The backbone narrative of the film is their annual week-long family reunion in Talihina, Oklahoma. This underpins the parallel throughout the film of the stark contrast between their childhood to their current rock-star status. As this film opens at the reunion you are initially introduced to a multitude of their extended family from cousins and uncles to their grandfather and namesake of the band, Leon.

The main narrative is divided into three sections: the reunion in Talihina, candid footage of the band on tour, and their parents describing the chronology of their life and context of what was happening. That these different sections rarely, if ever, connect visually does give the impression that you’re watching someone change channel constantly, and is at first a very weird experience, especially as the style of each part is so different.

Within their family there are some incredible characters. Uncle Cleo is the highlight of the film, and serves as the antithesis to their devoutly religious relatives. Described by a member of the band as representing everything they were taught as children to understand as sin, he is incredibly fun to watch and could quite easily have been the film’s main focus.

Religion is a huge theme within the film and it is approached in a cleverly non-judgemental or sensationalist way. It could easily have either been played down or blown out of proportion, but instead the subject of the family’s devout religion is almost a character in itself. There are moments when Caleb’s confusion as to what his life has become are touched upon, from his ingrained personal assumption that he would become a preacher – and I’m relieved that this wasn’t turned into a story arc of the inner turmoil of the tortured artist but, instead, just highlights the bizarre contrast between what they perceived their life would be and what it is now.

Talihina Sky is a strange film, and one about which I left feeling extremely confused. As it sat with me afterwards I realised I liked it more and more. The resounding impression is how honest the film is, and how you are invited into experiencing the atmosphere of their home and the situation they grew up in. Allowing their family to speak truly independently is disjointing, especially as there are so few scenes in which the members of the band interact with them, forcing you to piece together missing parts, but this does prevent stifling scenes engineered for the sake of the film narrative.

The breadth of archival material and footage of them in the studio and on tour will be an absolute joy to Kings of Leon fans. One particularly interesting use is a present day performance being blended with archive from previous performances of the same song, and this is an extremely quick and effective way of showing their progression as performers and musicians. The only time I felt the film stepped over the mark into sensationalism was during a scene in which their live performances are intercut with archival footage of people speaking in tongues, which seems to be making a strange and counter-productive point to the link between their past lives as preacher’s sons and modern day performers.

The film culminates in the two scenes which are by far the strongest moments in the film: an extremely open and insightful interview with Caleb and the band playing a song acoustically. The interview is raw and messy–an extremely candid late-night conversation in which Caleb opens up to his experience of confusion and feelings of guilt about his past and getting past the rebellion of leaving that world and, later, finding some resolution between the two. Throughout the film, beyond the comparison between past and present, the other extreme seems to be the attitude of the family remaining as humble as they have always been despite the enormous success of the younger family members, and the morphed rock star attitudes that the band seem to habitually adopt. This final scene brings both together and the honesty of Caleb’s interview, combined with the stripped down performance, brings the film full circle to a place in which you feel the real theme of the film, which seems to be the conflict of a life of two extremes and how to find a way to handle both.

Talihina Sky is having its European Premiere at the Edinburgh Film Festival on June 25 at 20.30. It will also be simultaneously screened the throughout the U.K. with a live Skype Q&A afterwards. Details are here and the trailer is below.

HBO’s Documentary Films Summer Series kicks off tonight (Monday, June 6th at 9:00-10:45pm ET/PT) and the first film on their slate is Liz Garbus’ ‘Bobby Fischer Against the World’.

While I’m no expert on the life and times of chess master Bobby Fischer, I’m familiar enough with his story to recognize that Liz Garbus’ biopic covers a lot of ground but doesn’t really offer any new or revealing information. Having said that, the film does a great job assembling all of the details of Fischer’s life into one tightly edited, aesthetically pleasing package that remains both entertaining and informative.

As a child, Fischer spent much of his time alone memorizing chess moves and playing solo matches against himself. Concerned by his anti-social behaviour, his Mother took him to a psychiatrist who concluded that there are much worse things a child could obsess over than chess. It’s a prescient observation considering the ragged, paranoid man Fischer would eventually become. As a kid, he was able to channel all of his energy positively, winning several US chess competitions, determined to become the World Chess Champion (which he would achieve). The film builds up to Fischer’s most famous match, competing against Boris Spassky of the USSR. The event garnered worldwide attention as the media turned it into a microscopic representation of the Cold War, placing pressure on both players to represent their country and bring home the championship. It was then that Fischer’s ego and his obsessive nature would find him nitpicking the details of the event and ultimately threatening not to show. Eventually he caved and ended up defeating Spassky, turning him into a superstar.

The unwanted attention didn’t seem to sit well with Fischer as he became increasingly paranoid and reclusive. He would decline to defend his title in 1975 against another Russian, claiming that the prize money wasn’t large enough for him. Those involved assumed it was his fear of losing that kept him from competing. It would be years before he would play chess professionally again, and time did not treat him well. He became obsessed with government conspiracies and eventually began regularly spouting off anti-Semitic rants. It was a belief that had always been hinted at throughout his career, but never in such an aggressive and explicit manner (Ironically, Fischer’s Mother was Jewish.) After a 1992 rematch with his rival Spassky, Fischer would eventually become a wanted man for taking part in the game which took place in Yugoslavia (then under a UN embargo). This instigated a series of events that resulted in him finding asylum in Iceland, the place where he’d originally faced off with Spassky years ago. Here Fischer would grow old, become increasingly irrational and eventually pass away from Renal failure, leaving behind a complex legacy.

Bobby Fischer Against the World is grounded by fairly safe filmmaking, relying on traditional methods to tell its story in a clean, straightforward fashion. It’s a choice that almost clashes with Fischer’s manic personality, but manages to lay out the narrative in an easily digestible and palatable nature. There’s some time spent building tension around Fischer’s famous match with Spassky, which will leave people who aren’t aware of the outcome on the edge of their seats. In fact, I’d say the films spends an equal amount of time analyzing Fischer’s chess playing as it does his psyche. I would’ve liked to have had things get a little more intimate with Fischer, but obviously resources were limited. At one point, Garbus’ makes use of footage from another documentary film titled ‘Me & Bobby Fischer’, by Icelandic director Fridrik Gudmundsson. The film focuses on Saemundur Pálsson, a friend of Fischer’s, who attempts to free him from Japan and then continues their relationship in Iceland. It’s from this footage that we see the reclusive and paranoid side of Fischer, leading up to his death. It would certainly make for a good companion piece to Garbus’ film (and possibly the better choice for those looking for something that might focus on the eccentricities of Fischer’s later life). It’s also worth noting that this was the last film for editor Karen Schmeer, who was tragically killed when she was struck by a car in a hit and run accident. She cut some great films, including one of my personal favourites, Errol Morris’ ‘Fast, Cheap & Out of Control’.

Bobby Fischer Against the World airs Monday, June 6th at 9:00-10:45pm ET/PT on HBO.

Okay, so this is THE ultimate World War II documentary. Plain and simple. The World at War was produced in the early seventies by British television production company Thames Television (remember their awesome logo?) and features narration by Sir Laurence Olivier. It covers the entire second World War across 26 hour long episodes and it’s now available on Blu-ray for your viewing pleasure. So how does this 37 year old series hold up on high definition?

First, let me talk a little bit about the actual content of the series. The episodes are broken down in a loose chronological order, starting with “A New Germany (1933-1939)”. We get some history on the rebirth of Germany and how the Nazi party grew into a position of power, leading to the eventual outbreak of war. From there, the series of events is broken down in great detail, with episodes focusing on Japan, North Africa, Italy, and other landmarks throughout the war. The episodes themselves consist of a mix of stock footage, photo stills and talking head interviews. Generally, it’s full of great information presented in a fairly engaging fashion. While it does feel a bit didactic at times, it still manages to maintain a sense of story that succeeds in capturing the atmosphere at the time of the war. Sir Laurence Olivier handles the narration perfectly, providing a dictatorial yet accessible accompaniment to the images. It goes without saying that the 36 hours in this series require at least a minimal interest in the war for any viewer to experience any sort of enjoyment or enlightenment.

Okay, so let’s talk about the technical aspect of this Blu-ray release. First off, I do think it looks pretty great, considering its age and the varied selection of stock footage presented throughout the series. The entire show was shot on film (obviously) and mixes colour and black and white footage, resulting in a bit of a hodgepodge of film stocks, some having aged better than others. Every now and again a pretty banged up shot will appear on screen, full of dirt and scratches, but these are few and far between. Generally everything looks appropriately aged but still great. The interview footage shot specifically for this series also holds up quite well, although the limitations of the original film stock does show through a little in comparison to what some might be used to nowadays. Personally, I found the look of the film to be faithful to what I imagine the filmmakers had in mind at the time. The set includes a number of special features including documentaries on the making of the series (one of which is a feature length retrospective), and a short that details the restoration process behind this high definition release. There are also additional bonus episodes — for a lack of a better term — that look at various aspects of the war. These include ‘Secretary to Hitler’, ‘The Two Deaths of Adolf Hitler’, ‘Warrior’, ‘Hitler’s Germany: The People’s Community 1933-1939′, ‘Hitler’s Germany: Total War 1939-1945′, ‘The Final Solution: Parts 1 and 2′, and ‘From War to Peace’.

NOW, on to the one major sticking point. Many have pointed out the fact that this newly restored version of The World at War is presented in a 16:9 aspect ratio to fit your HD television screen. The problem here is the series was originally shot for a traditional 4:3 aspect ratio. While some might be relieved that the picture will fill up their screen without the need to stretch or zoom (“I paid for my screen and I want to make use of every inch of it!”), others might find the extreme cropping of the image slightly claustrophobic at times. In general I found the stock footage held up fine to the aspect ratio change but some of the talking head interviews definitely suffered. There are many occasions where the image struggles to capture the on-screen text — someone’s name, generally placed near the bottom of the screen — without cutting off the top of the interviewee’s head in the process. Some of them are so tight that the top of the framing actually ends just above the eyebrows of the interview subject and, eventually, you’ll notice a very slow frame re-adjustment after the text disappears. It’s not really a deal-breaker but it’s certainly something that will stick in the craw of purists looking for the originally intended presentation. It’s my understanding that this was a compromise met while negotiating the costs of restoring the series. If a broadcaster is going to put money into such a project, they want to make sure it will take full advantage of their HD signal. I just wish there was an option to view it in it’s original 4:3 form. Otherwise, The World at War is a great Blu-ray release and a must-have for anyone interested in the second world war. — Jay C.

The Times of Harvey Milk
Directed by Robert Epstein
United States, 1984
88 minutes

Criterion’s relationship with non-fiction filmmaking is an interesting one. They’ve certainly given some classic documentaries the releases they deserve (Salesman, Gimme Shelter, Harlan County USA, For All Mankind, etc.) but I really wish they’d open their minds a bit and stray from their more conservative line up. Having said that, it was definitely a surprise to see Rob Epstein’s Academy Award winner The Times of Harvey Milk on their list of upcoming releases–certainly a refreshing choice but also a reminder that they’ve barely tapped the surface of a reservoir of amazing non-fiction films that are floating around in sub-standard DVD limbo. Hopefully this release is a sign of things to come.

For those unfamiliar with the story of Harvey Milk, I’ll kindly lay out the details for you: Harvey Milk was the first gay man to be elected to public office in California. He was influential within the gay community and was known for his fight to keep the government out of the private sex lives of citizens. Apparently, he’s also fondly remembered for his stance against dog poop in public parks. There’s actually a great scene in the film where Milk meets the press in a park and steps in a pre-planted piece of doggy doo. He was definitely an underdog in his circle of politicians but managed to gain the respect and support of his peers, including the mayor of San Francisco, George Moscone. One man who didn’t support Milk’s overtly liberal politics was Dan White, member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors and an overall clean cut, conservative American. He frequently clashed with Milk — and other members on the board — on various issues and eventually resigned from his position as a seat supervisor. It wasn’t long before he changed his mind and wanted his job back but Mayor Moscone refused to accept his offer to return to his position, causing White to sneak into city hall — through the window no less — and gun down the Mayor in cold blood. He then reloaded his weapon and walked over to Harvey Milk’s office and shot him point blank, killing him.

At this point the film focuses on the trial of Dan White in the murders of Harvey Milk and George Moscone. It’s here we learn of the infamous “Twinkie Defense”, in which White’s defence team claimed that his out-of-character over consumption of junk food was a characteristic of a man who was severely depressed. They insisted his mental state was not compatible with one of a motivated killer. The fact that he carried a gun into the office, along with a pocketful of bullets, was explained simply as a form of routine; White was an ex-cop and a police officer friend of his explains this as a normal thing for cops to do. He was strategically painted as a man who was suffering from severe stress, simply trying to do what’s best for his community and support his family. The jury members were forced to tears when they heard White’s audio confession, sympathizing with what they thought was a well-rounded, conservative American boy who’d lost his way. Ultimately, they decided in his favour and found him guilty of voluntary manslaughter instead of first degree murder. The result sent shockwaves through the community and sparked the “White Night Riots”. Police clashed with angry citizens in a response similar to the 1992 Rodney King case and its resulting LA riots. Once the dust settled, thousands of people gathered for a candlelight vigil in honour of both Milk and Moscone.

Director Robert Epstein approaches this material in a fairly conventional manner but he still manages to create an inspiring and thrilling tale, even if you know how everything ends. This film is truly the definitive telling of Harvey Milk’s story. Epstein utilizes a traditional narrator in the film but subverts expectations by hiring the raspy voiced Harvey Fierstein to handle the vocal duties. Definitely a courageous choice and certainly appropriate considering the subject matter. Even with narration, the film never really gets too didactic, maintaining a heavy stream of information in a consistently engaging fashion. Talking head interviews are spread throughout along with a wide variety of stock footage and still photography. Although the story is told in a retrospective fashion, it still feels very in-the-moment. Those aware of the tragic ending will find themselves hoping that somehow Milk’s story might end differently. I felt this same way when watching Paul Greengrass’s ‘United 93′, letting the power of the storytelling convince me that the film will somehow change history and end on a positive note. While Gus Van Sant’s Milk was a great dramatic take on this story, I think The Times of Harvey Milk truly captures the sorrow felt by the community with the loss of such a charismatic and important political figure and the resulting frustration with the legal system and their incompetent handling of Dan White’s trial.

Quality wise, The Times of Harvey Milk looks pretty great on blu ray. The film was originally shot on 16mm film and the transfer retains the quality and intent of the filmmaker. There’s also a great deal of stock footage from varying sources that holds up fairly well throughout the film. Having said that, The Times of Harvey Milk isn’t really known for its striking cinematography. Outside of the news footage and stills, the film is made up mostly of talking heads. Still, it’s always refreshing to watch a documentary that’s actually shot on film. As for the bonus features, you get an audio commentary from direct Robert Epstein, co-editor Deborah Hoffmann, and photographer Daniel Nicoletta, deleted interview clips, a new documentary on the film featuring interviews with Gus Van Sant and James Franco, and a rare collection of audio and video recordings of Milk, among other features. This is exactly why I wish Criterion would handle more docs. If there were a brand of filmmaking that benefits the most from bonus features, it’s documentaries! Get on it, Criterion!! — Jay C.