Now that we are a few months removed from the semi-anticipated release of Notorious, the biopic of slain rapper Biggie Smalls, and with biopics being such a big thing these days, it’s only natural to think that at some point there will be one about the lost MC known as 2pac.  I think that there are a few problems with this.  One, we would have to pray that there would be someone charismatic enough to play the man and not be reduced to a laughingstock, like poor Anthony Mackie was in the aforementioned Notorious.  Two, he is a difficult man to capture in essence: a walking dichotomy and a man with a conficting personality.  A film would have to really be on the ball to capture this duality and then an actor with the chops of, say a Russell Crowe, would have to be brought on to depict the man.  I am not certain that there is a black actor capable of this task at this point in time (and I think Denzel and Don Cheadle wouldn’t really qualify at their ages, though a young Cheadle during his “Mouse” era, would have been great!).  The filmmakers would probably have to reach to an unknown, like the Notorious producers did when MC Gravy (Jamal Woolard) won out during a huge talent search to play the big man.  These are all difficult challenges to overcome, so in the meantime, we have Tupac himself to tell us his story, whether it is with all of his music on CD, or through the interesting 2003 movie, Tupac: Resurrection.

Tupac: Resurrection is an intriguing documentary on the life of the man.  The main ingredient that makes this film work so effectively is that the iconic rapper, Tupac Amaru Shakur, is the person telling his own tale.  The film essentially covers multiple aspects of his life, literally from birth to death, almost exclusively told by the man himself.  This is all done through several interviews conducted and put together by Tabitha Soren, a former journalist for MTV back in it’s heyday when the channel actually used to show videos and cover music to the hilt.  The results bring us a fascinating look at ‘Pac, great for those interested in the man or music whatsoever.

The man had an undeniable charismatic twinkle in his eyes.

I admit I am a hip-hop junkie.  It’s part of who I am, a big part, and I routinely challenge the hip-hop IQ of those I come in contact with, just so that I can stimulate myself in this manner (and to prove to myself that I know more than them).  I’ve yet to meet my equal in this area. That’s not being cocky, that’s the truth, and it’s not for a lack of trying.  I want to meet my equals and superiors.  I want to learn from them.  That is part of my growth in life as far as I am concerned.  Why am I relaying this information here?  Well, I was never a huge fan of Tupac while he was alive.  He grew up in the Bay Area, which is discussed in the film, and he got in trouble when a young girl was killed by a man in his entourage (if I remember correctly).  This was when he was young and “clowning around with the underground” and doing the Humpty Dance (a personal favorite).  The incident immediately cast a tainted shadow around him to me (silly on my part looking back at it), since we are roughly the same age and I have always been a guy who prides himself on the music of the area in which I grew up.  West Coast!

Through the film though, Tupac discusses the situation, as well as several other controversies that surrounded him, and paints a different picture.  It appears to be a media distortion as to how he is perceived, if you would have Tupac tell it (which is completely believable in my eyes).  He was clearly an intelligent kid who had an artistic background (the shots of him in ballet tights are great).  He never seemed to shy away from that either. On the contrary, it appeared he embraced it.  But that is what made and continues to make him, such a complex figure.  There were times when he clearly was playing to his persona as he aged, and there is no doubt he grew to thrive on controversy.  While he was often one of the smarter guys in any given situation, he created a “thugged out” persona that preceded him wherever he went.  This is where the media and how we are fed information really becomes an issue.  There are always two sides to every story but that is often a difficult conclusion to arrive at, when we are usually being shown half of the story, through a definitively filtered lens no less.

He could be an ass, but at least he liked the Red Wings. Go Wings!

After his death to gunfire in Las Vegas in a crime that remains unsolved, for some reason Tupac was more heavily embraced.  I am even guilty as charged.  I dove deeper into his music and listened with a less jaundiced ear, more open to the experience of the tales he told.  He was a talented MC, but not the best on talent alone, it was his storytelling and the ability to deliver truth (through his “eyez”) that really makes him unparalleled.  This was before the blinged-out era that pervades much of rap music today.

Tupac: Resurrection never shies away from his version of the truth and unlike a traditional film, takes fewer shortcuts in this manner.  While it is not the most visually interesting movie, hearing his voice and seeing him on film really makes you feel his presence.  He discusses his rape case, the time when he was shot 5 times, his relationship with his mother, and his difficulties with some of those around him, including his struggles with himself and his attempts to grow through the mistakes he has made.  Just like any three dimensional, living and breathing human being would.

If you have any interest in a man that really is a modern-day version of Elvis (or if you prefer the more layman’s term, the black Elvis): a man who is revered long after his death, who really outlived his untimely passing through his music, then you need to see this film.  Some of it will be familiar to those in the know, but I recently took it in after seeing it a few years earlier, and it was all very fresh and engrossing just the same.  It makes you wonder what his life would be like if he were alive today.  In the era of the Internet with ultra-quick information and gossip, what would a 37-year old ‘Pac be like?  If you like hip-hop, you need to make it a point to see it, before the inevitable biopic happens with Tiny Lister (former wrestler Zeus) playing music mogul Suge Knight and Taye Diggs resurrecting his career as Tupac.  You know it’s happening.

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The emergence of the torture porn genre over the past few years, is one I’ve followed closely. I was there when Saw first came out. I loved the killer with a moral code aspect. I’ve seen Hostel and although I don’t like it nearly as much, I enjoy the third act immensely. I felt compelled to describe it to anybody that would listen. Of course, the unique effect wore thin pretty quickly. I still liked Saw II, but things continued downhill from there. Hostel 2 deserved its meager box office take and the wave of imitators, like Captivity helped turn the genre instantly stale and curdled like sour milk. A film I had missed among this mass of cinematic torture was Hard Candy.

I wouldn’t say Hard Candy is truly a torture porn movie, as there really isn’t any gore in it at all, but it doesn’t mean it won’t make your stomach turn in the way a good torture movie should. Hayley Stark (Ellen Page) is a wise-beyond-her-years 14-year-old who meets an older interested partner over the internet. She’s flirtatious and depicts herself as a prime suspect for an affair with Lensman319. After some coy comments, she decides they should meet at a local coffee shop. Lensman jumps at the chance, and both proceed with their plan, uninhibited by potential dangers.

Hayley is immediately taken with Lensman319, who now that he’s in the flesh is Jeff Kohlver (Patrick Wilson). He wipes chocolate cake off her lip and licks the remains. They share verbal foreplay over coffee and desserts. He even purchases a souvenir t-shirt commemorating their meeting at the café. Of course it comes with a price and he tells her she has to model it for him. She goes into the bathroom and after a quick peek at only Haley’s torso and above clothed only in a sportsbra which sends Jeff wild, she emerges modeling the material. Hayley continues to play aggressor in the situation, regardless of the age differential and suggests going home with Jeff. He nervously, but excitedly agrees.

If you're turned on by this...this is the movie for you.

Jeff’s home is uniquely modern, as it’s also his workplace. He’s a photographer, primarily for young models, and his house serves as his studio. Shots of his are adorned all over the walls, proudly displaying his work, as well as his underage subjects. Like the precocious adolescent she is, Hayley urges Jeff to talk about his conquests and prods at figuring out if he’s ever slept with any of the subjects he photographs. She offers herself as a photogenic topic only if she can swallow back some alcohol, offering the same opportunity to Jeff. He accepts and that’s where the fun begins.

Jeff’s drink is drugged and when he awakens, he finds himself strapped to a chair. Hayley reveals her true purpose for joining Jeff in his home, and it’s to enact revenge. Jeff is a pedophile. His studio and his work are only justification for Jeff’s true nature. He likes little girls. He’s responsible for the disappearance of Donna Mauer, the current Missing Milk Carton Pin-Up. He stalked Hayley online to make her his next victim, at least according to Hayley. The roles of predator and prey are instantly inverted. She may be outmatched by age and size, but in Hayley’s world, she has the upper hand.

What follows is why I would place the film in the torture porn genre. Every ounce of Hayley’s energy is used to put Jeff back in his place. To reduce him to the equivalent of his victims. Her main target is to ensure Jeff can no longer take pleasure in what he normally derides. Have you every witnessed a castration? Prepare yourself, for it is a sight to behold, to be triumphed only by the sound of the subsequent placement of the removed testicles in question in the garbage disposal when the switch is turned “on.”

The beauty of the film isn’t truly in the nature of torture, but rather the arguments both pro and con when it comes to Hayley’s methods. The truth is in the dialogue between Hayley and Jeff. Each presents their side of the story. Hayley embodies the role of judge, jury and prosecution, while Jeff can only play defendant. As much as we despise Jeff for his alleged action, we are also appalled by Hayley’s aggressive insistence and her constant prying into his life. Jeff has secrets to keep, but since Hayley is a child, albeit a freakishly mature one, nothing is sacred. Jeff maintains a certain position of innocence, and attempts to reason with Hayley. In a desperate attempt to retain his manhood, he reveals a story which could have lead to his now predatory nature. The viewer feels compassion for him, but Hayley refuses to budge. What he is supposed to have done to these girls is ungodly. We are presented to two very compelling arguments and although are presented with a conclusion, how you feel about the ending can help determine your humanity.

A wolf in Little Red Riding Hood's clothing

Again, the film isn’t a gory one. A lot of actions are alluded to and certainly spoken about, but rarely shown. The story Jeff tells is not shown in flashback, but rather delivered completely through monologue. The script by Brian Nelson is terrific. It’s almost fully dialogue driven. It could make a great play that I’d love to see. There are only a total of five faces seen in the movie and one of them has no dialogue at all. Two others only have one scene each. The rest is dedicated to Hayley and Jeff. Although the script could be performed on stage, director David Slade makes it greatly cinematic. At no point do you feel it could’ve been ported over, as no visual ever feels stagy. He keeps tensions ratcheted as far as they can go and never lets them go. The characters pour sweat from exertion, while the viewers wring their hands in suspense.

As great as I believe the story, script and direction are, the film couldn’t succeed without the tremendous work of the two leads it relies so heavily upon. Hard Candy marked Ellen Page as a top tier talent long before Juno. She becomes Hayley so effortlessly, you almost wonder if she had a personal stake in the outcome. Wise-beyond-her-years has become a staple of her characters and it’s because she did such a fantastic job in this. Page’s high-quality performance is only matched by that of Patrick Wilson’s Jeff. He was a complete unknown to me until I saw his other pederast-centered film, Little Children, and he continued to marvel me in this. He’s easily risen to being one of my most sought after actors and I look forward to everything he puts out in the future. He makes Jeff both slimy and charming all at once and his fear of pain translates to the audience. Bravura performances for both.

I do think there are a couple of slight missteps in the film, mainly involving Sandra Oh’s neighbor character, but nothing can stop the massive momentum it had built up to that point. Torture porn as a genre is tired and dead to me, but this is its crown jewel. It’s more than just a visceral attempt to titillate through squeamish situations. It’s far less pretentious than Funny Games, aiming to be a commentary on our obsession with violence. It’s great cinema boiled down to basic elements of strong writing, directing and acting. You know the somewhat vulgar saying of, “I’d give my left nut to see that”? Be like Jeff and give both. It’s worth it.  A seminal Film U Missed.

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Everybody tells lies at one point or another.  The 1997 film, Deceiver, uses this truism to great effect as the plot’s driving force in this twisted crime drama.  The films tagline is “there are two sides to every lie.”  This statement could not be more accurate in the film.  It stars Tim Roth (Pulp Fiction and currently on TV in a lie-based show) who’s on top of his acting game as an Ivy League educated man with a 151 Intelligence Quotient.  As those that have ever taken an IQ test know, this is a pretty high figure.

Roth is the only suspect in a murder case with no witnesses.  He is brought in on a lark, because his phone number was left on the person of the deceased.  Renee Zellwegger has a supporting role as a hooker/stripper and said deceased individual.  To clarify, hookers have sex with people for money, while strippers merely disrobe for their clients.  Theoretically at least, but the lines are crossed here, as she does both.

Deceiver ends up being a cat and mouse game between Detectives Edward Kennesaw (character actor Michael Rooker) and Phil Braxton (the now deceased Chris Penn) and Roth’s James Walter Wayland.  The detectives are giving Wayland the one-two punch routine administering several lie detector tests along the way, which would theoretically clear his name in the case.  Wayland happens to be a man prone to epileptic seizures.  He takes drugs to control them, but also is capable of jumping in and out of them purposefully.  He uses every angle possible to support his position as an innocent man, yet clearly enjoys being embroiled in the controversy, continuously antagonizing Brax and Kennesaw.  He coughs at opportunities to create a certain result in the test, making it difficult to read accurately.  He will not answer questions directly, and of course, lie, routinely changing his story.  All devices serve to confound and confuse the detectives.

While the suited ones investigate Wayland, he does the same to them and all the characters have issues.  Brax owes a 20 grand gambling debt to Mook (Ellen Burstyn), a bookie/kingpin who along with her cronies is in cahoots with Wayland, unbeknownst to the detectives.  Wayland’s Dad hates him and he takes drugs and drinks heavily to ease his pain.  Kennesaw has sexual issues, or so it seems at least, and is confused about who his wife really is.  Zellwegger’s role is smaller, all told in flashbacks that piece the story together, since she is dead.  Burstyn’s Mook is the surprising weak spot in the movie.  She plays her in too much of a classic 50′s noir-ish fashion that doesn’t really fit with the rest of the film.

This is a polygraph hookup, not an electric chair.

It’s both written and directed by the Pate brothers who have sadly done little of note since.  The majority of the film takes place in an interrogation room of a local precinct with Wayland typically strapped up to a polygraph machine.  This only serves to add to the tension with an almost claustrophobic effect on the characters and “action.”  I use the word action hesitantly, while there is little of it in the traditional sense, the suspense is ratcheted up through the torturous interrogations and cut away scenes that reveal more of the tale behind the crime, characters, and subplots.

It’s a bit of a shame that Rooker hasn’t been able to appear more prominently in films since his performance here.  He is usually getting one-offs in TV or smallish movie roles, but here he gives a textured performance, revealing a man tortured with his own demons.  From his calm demeanor initially to discovering his troubles at home to his unraveling at the hands, or words more appropriately, of Wayland, he becomes a time bomb that explodes in rage near the end, a great twist in the film.

Penn plays the likable dolt well, something he did a number of times during his acting career.  You feel for Braxton’s haplessness knowing he is in over his head with the acute Wayland and exacting Kennesaw.  Yet even so, his Brax is able to maintain his integrity more than the others with a neat little wrap up to his story.  Chris was an actor who, unlike his brother Sean, always seemed easy-going, even when playing badasses, which he did on a number of occasions.  This film will remind you that he is indeed missed.

I’ll admit to the plot seeming semi-convoluted upon first viewing, but if you are willing to think along with the film (an at times novel concept, I know), it is certainly easier to digest what is taking place.  Everything happens for a reason and things tend to fall into place, if you are paying close enough attention.  The intensity continues to rise from nearly the opening frame.  It’s a successful venture into a genre that should probably be revisited more often.  For a crime drama, it was criminally underseen, only earning roughly $500k domestically!  I apologize for the lack of quality photos, but that is a sign of how rare info is for the picture.  If you’re looking for something on the next trip to Blockbuster (or Netflix), this is a good film to fill up a weekend night.  Report back if you have seen it to share your thoughts.

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Hollywood has a lot of big egos and big personas, often resulting in poor judgment combined with even poorer behavior. Christian Bale’s is the latest to pop up on the set of Terminator: Salvation. David O. Russell’s demonstrative antics have been rigorously documented on the set of I Heart Huckabees. Russell Crowe has been known to hurl cell phones at people. Then, there’s Troy Duffy, who sits atop the a-hole list. You don’t know who Troy Duffy is? Let me tell you about the quickest upcoming and undoing of a career Hollywood has ever manufactured.

Overnight is a documentary about Troy Duffy. He wrote a script called The Boondock Saints in 1997 that was purchased by Harvey Weinstein for Miramax films. Duffy was working as a bouncer at a bar in Los Angeles at the time. The deal struck between Weinstein and Duffy included: Duffy would get to direct the film, his band “The Brood” would record the entire soundtrack for the film, he’d be granted a $15 million budget for his film and Weinstein would buy the bar Duffy worked at and co-own it alongside him. He was Hollywood’s “it” boy, represented by one of Hollywood’s biggest agencies, William Morris. He was an overnight sensation.

The instant success quickly took over Duffy’s mind. He embodies his new persona and begins talking like knows he’s Hollywood “it” boy. He gathers his bandmates and tells them no one in history has the deal they have. He tells them they will conquer the world. He chain-smokes like he thinks that’s what someone in his position is supposed to do. He thinks he has Hollywood all figured out and acts as if he knows everything he needs to know, because his attitude is validated by his success. He parties hard at his new bar. It becomes the new Hollywood hotspot. He hobnobs with actors interested in portraying the characters he created, but he has his own ideas for what he wants.

This meeting amounted to nothing but black lung

On an apparent conference call with a one of his film’s producers, names are suggested to Duffy. Keanu Reeves? “I think he’s a (expletive) punk. I would never do a movie with him.” Ethan Hawke? “A talentless fool.” He likes Kenneth Branagh, but after having to leave a message on his answering machine, he becomes quickly frustrated. I’m positive these conversations and dismissals take place on every film, even with first-time directors. Kyle Rankin and Efram Potelle rejected the notion of Emile Hirsch starring in their film in the second season of “Project Greenlight,” only to run out of options and then have him reject the offer when it finally came in. It’s the utter cockiness Duffy displays with his rejection, that’s abhorrent. He may know what he wants, but not how to deal with others while relaying that vision.

His relationship with his band is as big a plot point in the movie, as the bandmates bear the brunt of his egotism, since they don’t know any better. He’s the one that made them, and they feel it necessary to bow to his whim. He treats them like their only choice is to ride his coattails, which could be correct. However, they are his friends that he’s been making music with presumably for years.

Duffy’s antics spread from his closed circle of peers to higher-up executives and he must field a call from Weinstein himself and plead his case to get his project off the ground. When nothing new comes of it, he must make a plea to another Miramax representative. She refuses to take his call. His project eventually collapses. No more movie. No more soundtrack. All the success he thought was imminent is gone. Harvey giveth and he taketh away.

The happy day that is no longer

As most of you know, The Boondock Saints did eventually get made. It had a long road to culmination and Overnight chronicles some of the ups and downs that path had paved. However, this film isn’t about how movies are made. It’s not like a season of “Project Greenlight.” It doesn’t truly cover Duffy’s writing of the script, the casting process he ends up undergoing or the filming of the movie he ultimately came to make. It’s about the rise and fall of a talent. The destruction of a career. Perhaps the ruination of a life. .

What makes it all the more interesting is the directors, Mark Brian Smith and Tony Montana (yes, that’s his name and not a rap moniker), were his friends. Although they didn’t play instruments, they were a part of the band Duffy ultimately came to tear apart. Perhaps this was their way of getting back at him. Perhaps they’re no longer friends. Maybe they are. With bias or not, they manage to tell a great story in cinema-verite.

Montana, Willem Dafoe, Duffy

Duffy had never made another film to the point of Overnight‘s release. However, as of this writing it appears he has finished working on Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day. It was certainly done outside of the Hollywood system and its fate has yet to be determined. I can’t imagine it gets a bigger release than The Boondock Saints did, but maybe time has healed the wounds. It has been a decade. It’s just tough to picture when remembering the scene where Duffy calls Harvey Weinstein a “c-cksucker.” Although it may have died down since his departure at Miramax, one still must fear one producer’s assessment of how much influence Weinstein has in Hollywood. Her answer: all.

For anybody remotely interested in filmmaking, this is required viewing. Absolutely mandatory. It may just teach you to become a better person. Overnight is the ultimate lesson in humility. Film school might teach you how to create a film. This will teach you how not to act when you get a chance to do it. Hollywood may be a cruel place, but it should still be treated with respect. If Eminem was right and “you only get once shot, this is your chance to blow,” Troy Duffy blew it.

I had first watched the film on a Saturday morning, poking around the Netflix “Watch Instantly” category, looking for something to do. It had been in my recommended viewings for quite a while, presumably because of my enjoyment of the “Project Greenlight” series. I loved it instantly and as I watched it again for the writing of this article I feared I may have built it up too much for myself. However, once it started rolling and through to the end credits, I realized I was right. I imagine it’s the best documentary that could be made with an 80-minute runtime. I’ve always shied away from owning a documentary for some reason. As much as I like some of them, the rewatchability for me seems minimal. Overnight is the exception. A respect-seeking Film U Missed.

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What would you do with one last night to live a normal life? Or as the film’s one-sheet asks, “can you change your life in one day?” That, in essence, is the premise that drives 2002′s 25th Hour. It stars Edward Norton, on top of his acting game, while writer David Benioff adapts his own novel for Spike Lee. It’s one of the rare times when doing a movie that Spike didn’t write the screenplay as well as direct, and I believe it is his finest film to date. Yes, it even outdoes his classic Do The Right Thing, and I enjoy that film quite a bit as well.

Edward Norton gives a great, understated performance in the lead role. His Montgomery “Monty” Brogan is a pinched drug dealer who is going to prison for a long stretch – starting tomorrow. Monty rounds up his old friends for one last “going away” party, being given to him at the hottest night-club in the city by some shady Russians he has worked for, before he goes off for several years due to a drug bust. Monty gains our respect by being unwilling to talk to the police once he’s arrested. Nobody likes a rat. The film follows the re-uniting of friendships past and the questioning of choices made which have altered the direction of his life. In this examination is where the depth of the material comes to the surface.

Monty has a big favor to ask of Frank.

We are told of Monty’s story during his last day of freedom, interspersed with his gathering of his friends and father. We meet Barry Pepper, who is stellar as Frank, a cocky stockbroker and former best friend to Monty, who happens to be very well-endowed. Self-proclamations like that are all you need to know about the guy. It’s great writing and characterization. Not to mention his eating rice with his hands. Yeah, he’s a dick but he’s one of the few guys who Monty can trust, and Monty asks an important favor of him at the end of the film. You want to be around those that are close to you on a day like this, but at the same time, there are questions that need to be answered and emotions run high as the day turns to night and night to day.

The opening scene in the film has a junkie hounding Monty for a hit, for some dope and we later in the film, through flashbacks, see that the junkie was once a successful suited business man. Small little details like this enrich the story. There is Rosario Dawson giving what I think is one of her best performances to date, as a woman dedicated to her man but maybe in it for the money. When she is out at the club at Monty’s party, Frank confronts her on this subject. It is an alcohol charged scene but a necessary one to have to explore. The film doesn’t pull punches.

Frank confronts Naturelle, it's not about her perfume.

I think Spike often times has a tendency to be heavy-handed to say the least. He hammers his points home too often, but here is relatively restrained in that regard. (Perhaps because it is not a “black” film to be honest, but that’s speculative.) Spike directs moving scenes, with the backdrop of the twin towers emptiness in New York playing a prominent atmospherical and metaphorical role. While the world is changing in real-life, there is drastic change taking place in the life of Montgomery Brogan. Yes, Lee borrows from his own “DTRT” style with the neighborhood denizens flashing in two memorable scenes: one with Monty cursing them and berating himself for his mistakes in a mirror and the other, a scene of regret, knowing that his fault was primarily in his attitude, in the way that he saw things, and the possibility of his being jailed for a long time makes him switch his view point on the locals. It’s justified and poignant.

Great supporting players abound, including Philip Seymour Hoffman as Jacob, a high-school teacher who falls for one of his students hard. There is a subplot with he and Anna Paquin’s Mary D’Annunzio, a talented, tatted and pierced student who is a great choice as the object of lust for the straight and grounded Jacob. I do wish I could see the outcome of what happens back at school after their bathroom make-out session. That is one little cliffhanger here.

There are tons of acting props to go around. Tony Siragusa, ex-NFL Baltimore Ravens lineman turned NFL sideline reporter, gives a good performance as Kostya, Monty’s Russian right hand drug man, who actually ends up betraying Monty (he is the one who got him busted for the weed). Isiah Whitlock Jr. (pre-The Wire‘s Senator Clay Davis) introduces his trademark “sheee-iiiit” here as well, as a detective that busts Monty in the first place. I love his, “the couch is kinda haaard” line. It’s all great stuff.

Monty tells the fellas he needs his ass kicked. Friendly.

Norton is not quite tough enough for jail, as he puts it “there are guys in there that will eat me alive.” He’s a little too pretty to be hard. So finally we have Frank, whose “favor” is to wail on Monty to try to make him look uglier and therefore tougher in prison. After their talk in the club, showing the desperation of two Irish guys dreaming of reuniting in a post prison bid to run a bar, this scenario is just sad. Knowing that Monty is “a bagel, a zero” on Frank’s scale of 1-100 desirability, this just makes the emotional impact of what is taking place on screen have more resonance. Frank wails away in tears, hating that he is put in this situation as the frustration pours out of him.

It’s a movie I can relate to without having ever been a drug dealer. I relate to the challenging friendships and the isolation from those relationships at the same time which plague Monty. I can relate to having the girlfriend who sometimes you don’t trust, even though she would seemingly do everything and anything for you. I can relate to the cockiness of Pepper’s Frank and the longing of Jacob (who doesn’t look at high-school girls and feel a little creepy for doing so…and yes, I am a bigger man for admitting it! Or something like that.). I relate to the patriotism inherent in the movie, even now, in these tough economic times. There is still hope and time to change, a theme in the film and in our new president’s run for office.

It’s disappointing that a movie this good only made $13 million at the US Box Office during its theatrical run. That was slightly less than its reported $15 million budget. It’s a rich experience with a well-rounded story that most viewers can find something to connect with. Even the patriotic aspect of it, in the memorial of ex-Firemen in James Brogan’s (the enjoyable Brian Cox) bar or in the post 9/11 New York City shots, it’s a film to rally around and enjoy repeatedly. The ending, with Monty and his Dad James is perfect. James drives along with Monty after his night-out, weaving a tale that leaves you hanging until the final shot, hopeful and wondering what the outcome may be. You will be hard-pressed to find a better ending than this one.

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Thanks to The Criterion Collection, I’ve been exposed to tons of movies I never would have seen, much less heard about. In college, I decided I wanted to watch everything released by the DVD studio. My Netflix queue quickly ballooned astronomically, and fear set in. With every new semester, I would eagerly open the syllabus for each class and gauge which films we’d be watching throughout. It was very often, if not all the time, that a Criterion film would be somewhere on the list., and I could return to my Netflix queue and remove the title, making it appear just that much more manageable. One of those films I had seen in school was Man Bites Dog.

The film controversially won two awards at the 1992 Cannes Film Festival, including one for Best Feature. Not controversial in the way that Shakespeare in Love‘s Best Picture win over Saving Private Ryan was controversial. Not that there was something better. It was controversial purely for the film’s subject matter. And it’s to be loudly lauded for it.

Man Bites Dog is one of the earlier faux-documentary entries in cinema. Remy, a director, Andre, a cameraman and Patrick, a soundman, follow a young, charismatic, and charming serial killer. Ben is the leading man. Your resident Hannibal Lector.

The serial killer genre is ripe with the mentally disturbed, but there are no talking dogs here. No abusive childhood. Ben kills for a living. It’s his trade. He mainly targets the elderly because they don’t put up a fuss and they typically store their money around the house. In one scene, Ben uses the documentary crew to his advantage and poses as a television crew, looking to interview an old lady about loneliness in high-rise apartments. She invites them inside and although he possesses a gun, Ben decides to yell violently into her ear. Why? He noticed a box of heart medication sitting on the table when they walked in. “I always like to try out new techniques,” he says. She’ll be dead soon.

How does he dispose of bodies? He’s got that down to a science. The ballast/corpse ratio for an average adult is three times the body weight. “For midgets and children, it’s different.” Midgets are heavier, so you double the weight. Children’s bones are lighter, so you quadruple the weight. For old people, multiply by five. “Old bones are porous.” He has a favorite dumping ground, in a vast, water-filled quarry. He drinks cocktails termed  ”Dead Baby Boy,” which consist of gin, tonic, and an olive with a sugar cube tied to it. He quizzes his documentarians on the proper ballast ratio for kids, knowing a sugar cube wouldn’t cut in the real world.

Ben contemplates bringing his work home

Although accompanying him through a day’s work worth of killing, the filmmakers try to maintain their distance from their subject. They are obviously afraid of spending time with him outside of documentarian circumstances and do their best to turn down Ben’s offer to take them to a restaurant for mussels. When the fear of what he might do in response to their rejection hits them, they apprehensively reverse course. At the restaurant, Remy reveals to him that they’re running out of funds for their project. Nice guy that he is, Ben agrees to help finance the film and thus becomes a producer/star.

This situation will ultimately bring the filmmakers to the realization that it’s all too real, especially when Patrick, the soundman, gets gunned down by one of Ben’s foes, in a shootout. This changes the filmmakers’ perspective from voyeur to participant and it takes a rape scene for us to acknowledge that very notion in ourselves.

Like the filmmakers, you are seduced by the charms of the leading man. You enjoy his bubbly personality. Nod in agreement at his disgust of unattractive building facades. Laugh when he jovially points a toy gun at the head of two children and fires a rubber bullet at them before handing it back to them. To Ben, to the filmmakers and to us, it’s all in good fun. But, we are guilty parties. Like the filmmakers to Ben. Like Ben to his victims.

Man Grips Gun

Subsequent films have tackled the subject of holding up a mirror to the audience’s own bloodlust. These are notably Natural Born Killers and either of Michael Haneke’s Funny Games‘. Neither goes about it quite like Man Bites Dog, and neither does it as well. The documentary-style framework is well established with the grainy black-and-white handheld footage and constant breaking of the fourth wall, but it’s pushed even further with the filmmakers using their real names throughout the film. This is a tactic used years later to create The Blair Witch Project phenomenon, and achieved great success.

This film captures a variety of genres that make it accessible to so many. Comedy, horror, documentary and socially-relevant. It only hauled in $250,000 in the United States during its run in January of 1993, but I can’t claim contributing to that amount, myself. Thank goodness for The Criterion Collection for making this available to everybody. I whole-heartedly endorse seeking this out in whatever manner possible. It’s a killer Film-U-Missed.

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Are all men bastards…or just misunderstood?  That was the tagline for Neil LaBute’s 1997 film, In The Company of Men, a classic in my eyes that far too few have come to appreciate to this very day.  The reasons are likely many.  It was an ultra low budget film, shot for a reported $25,000, with no moving camera shots in the entire film to my recollection.  They are all still shots with the only motion coming when LaBute affixes the camera to a trolley-ride at a generic amusement park of sorts.  It ended up doing just under $3 million domestic box-office, a modest hit for a then still small independent film scene.

IMDB breaks down the plot as follows: Two business executives–one an avowed misogynist, the other recently emotionally wounded by his love interest–set out to exact revenge on the female gender by seeking out the most innocent, uncorrupted girl they can find and ruining her life.  So essentially, two guys who work together pick on a co-worker, dating her at the same time, only to supposedly screw her over.  Not one to watch with women.  However, not all goes nearly as smoothly as planned.  If it did, why would I recommend it?

Aaron Eckhart and Matt Malloy In The Company of Men.

This is kind of a movie for the hard-ass.  Chad sets the whole scheme up, they want to break one girl to get back at women for causing men so much heart break.  I think Kanye West can relate.  But it’s the weaker Howard who falls for the mute Christine, while Christine falls for Chad, thus making for an awkward love triangle before things get out of hand.  A woman would feel sorry for Christine, and it’s hard not to, she really is an innocent for the most part, especially considering that she is being set up the whole time, not to mention that she is deaf.  Howard finds this endearing and actually learns some signing to communicate with her.  Chad essentially just mocks her knowing that she can’t hear him.

But Chad is the handsome one, so Christine sees him as the prize between the two men, even though she is pleased with Howard’s kind persona.  Once her plight is revealed, her devastation ensues, and even Chad finds it a bit unsatisfactory, questioning her with “It only hurts that much?”  So she holds it together as long as she can and she sobs in his absence.  That’ll sting.  Eventually, after so bitterly losing out on Christine’s heart to Chad, a devastated Howard confronts him and Chad makes the big reveal.  When asked why he did it all, the married Chad closes the saga by simply saying “Because I could.” Now that’s cold, colder than Coors Light. But still, pure genius.

Stacy Edwards enjoys the company of the wrong men.

In the Company of Men was Aaron Eckhart’s first starring role as an actor.  His charismatic and suave player, Chad, was the type of guy that both men and women were attracted to.  He perfectly played two-faced long before he became Two-Face in The Dark Knight.  It launched his career, allowing him to eventually land a lead part opposite Julia Roberts in Steven Soderberg’s Erin Brockovich in 2000.  Eckhart helped get Julia her Oscar!

Neil LaBute wrote and directed it and has had a pretty good run of his own as a serious counterpart to Kevin Smith.  He recently directed Samuel L. in Lakeview Terrace, his eighth effort behind the camera and yeah, he was a virgin before Company of Men.

Matt Malloy’s Howard, is the perfect foil as well.  When he and Chad converse in a bathroom discussing details of their respective dates with Christine, their interaction is priceless.  His “Niiiice” response to Chad’s tale of he and Christine’s peck on the cheek goodbye kiss is just perfect.  I quoted that for years and might need to bring it back.  Malloy is a character actor that gets steady work.  He actually ended up with 5 film credits in 2008 alone and totals almost 100 acting credits in full as of this writing.  That’s some serious stuff.

Where real men take care of their business.

Why do I enjoy this film so much?  Maybe it is my dark side.  I adapted the deaf voice that Christine has as one of my voices for an acting audition to a comedy troupe.  (I didn’t book the gig so I can talk about it now, but it wowed a few on-lookers, as did my Eddie Vedder as Eminem impression, but that’s another story for another time.  Maybe mocking the deaf wasn’t funny to those hiring for the troupe, but I think they missed out.  Why be so PC in this Mac world?)  Yeah, it is a guy movie and perhaps a perfect one for anyone who has ever been hurt by a woman at some point in their life.  This was a shoestring budget film that made you feel, like Kevin Smith’s 1994 Clerks did, that filmmaking was an achievable medium for everyman.  Mind you, this was long before the iMovie’s and You Tube’s of the world really did virtually put filmmaking and distributing at your fingertips.

In the end, if you are a guy, this is a film you must see.  Just don’t watch it with your female mate.  Heed this call!  Nothing good can come out of that, unless you want to end up like the characters in the movie, sans a relationship.  But you can have a great time catching this and if you watch it with a few friends, commence the quoting.  It came out a year after the imminently quotable movie Swingers and it holds it’s own in a completely different way.  I can’t recommend it enough. A 4 nest film-u-missed.

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Do you remember the class “Books-U-Missed” in high school? (And if you are you still in high school? Check out the class! But I digress.) It wasn’t known as the most stellar or engaging class. Nor was it for people who were “up to date” on their studies, so to speak. Well, that’s where the title of this column hails from. Put simply, we wanted to create a column to give our readers some insight into a quality film that they might have missed seeing. There are a few parameters or guidelines that we will try to enforce as we go forward with these posts though.

First off, we want to focus on films that were over looked in theaters for the most part. So we want to highlight films that made $30mm or less in domestic box office upon their release to the big house. This doesn’t mean that these will all be smaller, independent films though. Though you will undoubtedly read about foreign films and indies, this will also include some bigger budget failures that maybe shouldn’t have been. It’s easy to forget that David Fincher’s Fight Club was largely passed by upon its release making $37 million but budgeted at nearly $70mm, it was considered a flop. We wouldn’t profess our love for that film here though, because now so many have seen it and come to appreciate its layers.

Norton and Pitt are the same person.

Secondly, we will not discuss any film that is within one year of its theatrical release. No new films will be discussed, and often times the primary focus will be on films older than a few years. We want people to have an opportunity to see these hidden gems and it would be unfair of us not to give them an opportunity to do so. With so many movies coming out each year, only so many will be seen in theaters and with home theaters becoming the more popular viewing choice in many circles anyway, we want films to have hit DVD and Blue-Ray for a bit before giving our recommendation to see it.

Thirdly (is that a word?), we won’t discuss any pictures that might have broken out into a larger “cult status” sort of picture. For instance, Kevin Smith’s Clerks didn’t make a large sum of money upon it’s release, just $3 million, but so much time has passed since 1994, that I can’t think of anyone who hasn’t seen it or at the very least heard quite a bit about it. The film jump-started Smith’s career and it has clearly reached legendary cult status. Admittedly, this is a bit of a more loose guideline, as I am sure some of the films we write about will be considered a cult film by some readers and other readers will be in the dark about. That’s the nature of the business, I guess, but we will do our best to uphold this principle, at least in our minds.

Kevin Smith's Clerks is a cult classic.

Also, we want to steer clear of films that have received any major awards, whether they were seen or not. Any film that received a major Oscar (acting, directing, picture, etc.) or Golden Globe is not likely to be mentioned. Films that have received big awards should have already been given the necessary promotion to be seen and they don’t need our help in giving them an extra push. Most of you are going to be aware of a major award winning film, so why beat a dead horse?

Lastly, we primarily want an opportunity to shed some light on a movie we liked and hopefully motivate those that haven’t seen it to take the plunge. Nothing more, nothing less. We have no hidden agenda. We’d love for you to report back how much you liked the films and how you will treat our future recommendations as law going forward. But we understand that part of the enjoyment of watching movies and writing in this format is that everyone has a different experience or different take on what they have witnessed. That’s what makes this so fun! Nobody is always right and conversely, nobody is always wrong. So look out for this column as a regular feature and do let us know what you think. Let the games begin!