Sunday

"All About My Mother"
"Junked"

I am dog ass tired.

Picked up Web from his hotel at noon and we looked all over town for a brunch. Finally found one down on Congress, almost across from the Paramount. Went down on 4th and caught a little bit of a jazz festival. Came back to my place and worked on my computer for a bit. Went to the Omni to buy some Austin Film Festival official t-shirts and ran into Elvis from IFC and Steve Odenkirk of "Mr. Show" fame. Odenkirk was walking away so said hello to Elvis, which is what I had intended to do anyway, and gave him a flyer for the website. He actually remembered me from the "Let the Devil Wear Black" screening and was very nice. That was a real thrill for me because I really enjoy watching him on TV. I especially liked him on VH-1's "Four on the Floor." But I haven't watched much TV since I got to Austin, so I don't even know if that show is on currently.

Web and I wondered why there are no screenings on Sunday afternoon. I know a lot of the "industry" people and insiders are on their way home by this point, but if I was pimping a film, I'd have a Sunday afternoon screening somewhere. Seems like a convenient time and you would get some stragglers.

Was very excited when I got to the Almodovar screening at the Arbor 7 at 6:30pm. Web was going to catch a taxi home. He went to make a call and I went into the theater and realized that I had not even said goodbye to him. Went back to the lobby just in time to see his cab pulling out. I owe him a nice e-mail. He really made stuff happen this weekend.

Sat in front of Harry Knowles and his dad. I didn't do this purposefully. Before the movie, Harry's dad and this other guy chit-chatted about the screenwriter's forums they had been to earlier and about partying at Guillermo del Toro's house the night before. Harry arrived and the three of them kept talking about someone known as "the dude." It was surreal. It was almost like dialogue lifted from "The Big Lebowski." At one point, someone even said, "the dude will provide." This was almost scary to me.

Further to my left, a screenwriter named Kevin talked to another guy and they discussed the different colored badges for the fest. Kevin must have been someone important cause two or three females popped by to sort of chat with him. The other guy was in a band who had done a song on the soundtrack for "Natural Selection," a film in the festival. His band was called Punchy and if I'm not mistaken, they were from Austin.

Del Toro, as always, gave a great introduction. Apparently, he had to call Almodovar personally to get the print for the festival. Del Toro told us he was working on a screenplay called "Devil's Backbone," which he is going to direct and Almodovar is going to produce which will be in Spanish. It's a ghost story of some kind. Someone in the crowd asked Del Toro when the American "Cronos" was going to be made and he said never... He made some joke about turning Jack Lemmon in to a vampire. Harry told a friend that some American producers had actually approached Del Toro about making a English language version...

With his new film, Almodovar once again proves his is the landlord over the modern pansexual landscape which is yet to be embraced by other cinema and other culture. It is brilliant. But his multi-textured, layered, wonderful film also has an astounding theme.

"All About My Mother" is a masterpiece. Filled with Almodovar's usual bright colors, brilliant, vivid visuals, unusual characters and soap opera plotting, it is also one of the most profound odes to motherhood ever to grace the screen.

The acting is wonderful. Almodovar's opening act brings us a mother/son relationship that basks in the warm glow of love and tenderness. The opening shots, of the beautiful, young Eloy Azorin as Esteban are sculptured visions. He is so cute and so charming that we instantly fall for him. His love for his mother, Manuela, played by Cecilia Roth, is a beautiful sight to behold. A moment where she reads to him, especially because of the text chosen, is one of the most tender I have ever seen.

A perfect example of Almodovar's cinematic excellence, recalling his visual wonts, is a shot of Roth in front of a gigantic picture on a billboard carrying the facade of a well-known actress. Esteban looks lovingly from afar at his mother seemingly superimposed over this exaggerated, looming image and his eyes fill with such admiration and love that it is spellbinding. We see, in this moment, how the boy idolizes his mother. How he loves her. How he envisions her as a loving icon. It's spectacular.

Almodovar isn't one for typicality, so his film soon swerves into unpredictable areas. His cabinet of astounding characters and actors breaks open onto the screen peopling the film with one marvellous personality after another. Marisa Paredes is wonderfully drawn as actress Huma Rojo. Her metamorphosis and character development throughout the film are stunning. Antonia San Juan as La Agrado brings forth the most wonderful and realized transgenderal character we have ever seen on screen. These are multi-faceted, myriad dimensional characters who slowly let us into their worlds by subtly surprising us throughout the film.

But alas, it is Roth who is the heart, the corozon, of the film. She is spectacular here. Her character can bring tears to the eye with a sudden frown, a momentary lapse of keeping herself collected. The film's wonderful story and perfect pitch allows her ample opportunity to have emotional moments and Roth make perfection out of each and every chance, never overly dramatic, always realistic, often moving beyond comprehension. This is an Oscar worthy performance and if Roth is not nominated, it is a travesty, a true indication that the awards are useless trivia.

The film may have trouble reaching a straight audience but who cares. It's their loss. Because Almodovar isn't interested, really, in sexuality here, well perhaps as a sub-sub-theme. His characters are more about love and togetherness and humanity and family. He films the piece like a loving dramatic novello and then offers up an almost Western feel at the end, a sort of Foreign, classic Noir feel in some ways when a much referenced character finally makes their appearance. It elevates the film from an awesome story to an awesome film. And the emotions and warmth we feel here is truth. It radiates off the screen like ripples of joy.

I will not lie. I have not seen all of Almodovar's films. Perhaps, at the most, I have seen 4 or 5. But I am willing to wager that this is the best, most emotionally resonant, most subtly nuanced film he has ever made. It's love of it's characters, and the care it generates within us for them, is a true revelation. It's a perfect film.

Left the Arbor and met up with my friend J.C. at the Dobie for "Junked." He had stayed last night at Arbor and seen "American Detective" which he did not care for, although he said his bro liked it. I asked him about the "Slappy the Clown" short and he told me it was pretty good, live action and a little morbid but amusing. He also saw a documentary called "Zapatista" today which he liked a lot. J.C. is more international than myself, so he had an interest in the documentary's South American theme, which I did not.

Thank God "Junked" was not an overly exceptional film because the Dobie, as seems to be the case over the weekend, had two projection problems during the screening. First, the sound did not come on right away and then a mis-splice was not corrected until I complained. At the price many of us are paying to go to screenings, this should not happen. The damn festival has volunteers, teach them how to handle the audio and frame a mis-splice and then let them "ride" the film as it runs. If I worked my ass off to make a movie and got accepted to a festival, busted my checkbook to get them a decent print, and then there were these easily resolved projection problems during the film, I would be livid. As a fan, I WAS livid. These sort of amateur problems are not acceptable in a major film festival. No excuses.

"Junked" had lotsa problems anyway. It's script is jam-packed with the most improbable dialogue. Some of the actors are complete amateurs. The version we watched looked like a work-print edit. And, what is most problematic, the director, Lance Lane, has a vision so drenched in Tarantino and modern action films that he is incapable of making a decent film about characters and plot. The film just isn't right. It's sophomoric, derivative, out-of-control and poor. But let me finish.

There are actors here who take remarkable chances. The character of Jimmy, a young street urchin whose emotional growth has been retarded by familial problems and abuse, is quite interesting and complex. It isn't his character, but his character's exposition that suffers. Lane has an interesting touch of allowing his characters to ramble while others in the scene don't even listen but are, nonetheless, present. It's ethereal and unique. Still, sometimes it doesn't work quite right. Jimmy, played

by an actor who I believe is named Channing Rowe, has severe emotional problems. He is at times childish, retarded, violent, psychopathic and crazed. Rowe makes Jimmy come to life for us by being fearless in his performance. He takes dark steps into Jimmy's sexual confusion that many actors would never be able to perform. It is a wonderful and daring performance, and he should be applauded for having the balls to act it. Lane, likewise, should be applauded for creating such an interesting character and then being able to cast a talented actor to fulfill his vision.

But that's just one of four main players here. Many of the others, in particular the actor playing Crow (Lane unwisely uses stupid names like Switch and Crow for his characters) is just to over the top. Crow screams like a madman which is just unrealistic. The actor playing Crow could give a performance 100 times more effective simply by doing one thing here: Talking in a somewhat hushed tone.

The main actress in the piece (Jordan Ladd?) has a marvellous scene or two as well. She also is able to be bold and daring when need be. Playing Nikki, a young teen who allows herself to become a prostitute, she sits looking vapidly after turning a trick. In "wild track," we here a phone conversation her last "john" has with a friend, describing how he defiled her. As it repeated in the film, this isn't about sex but about power. Her trick doesn't want to have sex with her, he wants to debase her. Her shell-shocked look, as he describes what he did to her, leads us to wonder whether this is a real conversation her trick has, or if it is the one she herself imagines after the fact. Also, this is a wonderful moment Lane creates where the

dialogue tells us the story but the image tells us what it means, without "playing out" the description.

But with all it's good qualities, "Junked" is rather a mess. Lance often seems more concerned with cinematics then with storytelling. He also seems to revel in the films violence rather than utilize it for meaning or impact. Still, while Lance may have a turkey on his hands here, it shows some promise at times. I liked some of the film. It's homosexual text wavered between working and failing throughout the piece, but his characters always tried and his "gay" moments were never truly derogatory. There is a scene between Jimmy and Crow that is quite remarkable because it deals, on a certain level, with homosexual rape/abuse. Lane makes this non-derogatory however, because it isn't about gay sex being bad or wrong but rather about one man's "power," over another, which the character of Crow confuses as "respect," and also about corruption, which is a definite theme here. What is surprising is that the two males involved kiss, blurring that line between abuse and sexuality and visualizing the sexual confusion Jimmy is a victim of.

I have written a script and, if I were truly determined to make it, I would not hesitate to consider Lane for the job. He needs to take what he knows now and refine it. Stop trying to be clever and cease this courting of supposed cutting edge, Tarantinoesque, modern, cinematic violence. It looks forced. Do your best to insist on actors of the caliber of Rowe and Ladd (I hope I got the names right. God, I wish I had a cast list) and work with the others, like the guy who played Crow, to become more controlled. Lane has taken a world filled with violence, sexual perversion, abuse, corruption, and death and wallowed in it. Next time, don't go swimming. Pull back, and watch it from afar. Don't live in it, don't front for it, just allow it to unfurl on the screen. Detach yourself somewhat. And next time your film will be "Salvageable."

As we were leaving, ran into my friend John and talked briefly. He is interested in going to the Lucio Fulci Halloween thing at the Alamo which surprises me somewhat. I just don't expect gay guys to be into gore and splatter. Well, maybe I am stereotyping people. Not a good thing, Lodg...

Went to Taco Cabana by Dobie on my way home and it was a nightmare. 30 minutes to get a taco salad. I wanted to say this to the dumbass behind the counter: "If you're making minimum wage, you robbing this company blind."

Peace - Day 5 will kill me, I suspect.