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Also this issue: Junk Bonds Sing a Song of Struggle Dogme Dog Screen Picks |
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March 6-12, 2003
movie shorts
AMANDLA! A REVOLUTION IN FOUR-PART HARMONY
"When you finally finish that song, people be like, Damn, I know where you niggas is coming from.'" Once-exiled South African musician Sifiso Ntuli's words, which come at the beginning of Lee Hirsch's lively documentary, establish the power of song right off the bat; they convey instantly what words can take forever to get across. The strength and the weakness of Amandla! is Hirsch's reliance on the "freedom songs" of the struggle against apartheid -- strength because the movie comes alive every time musicians, famous or not, burst into song; weakness because you want to sit down and listen, and the movie's already rushing off to the next subject. The film includes interviews with internationally famous figures like Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba, but its heart are those locally or not-at-all famous figures who made up the struggle, and the music that seems simply to pour out of them. Songs like "Beware Verwoerd" (addressed to South Africa's then-president) and "Makuliwe" may not be well-known outside the country, but everyone seems to know them there; in one memorable sequence, Hirsch cuts between three unrelated groups of people, all singing the same song (and, miraculously, in close to the same key); music is common currency here. The fact that Amandla! isn't totally satisfying may be a measure of its success; no matter how much you get, you want more.--Sam Adams (Ritz at the Bourse)
BRINGING DOWN THE HOUSE
Lonely, depressed tax lawyer Steve Martin meets witty, well-read "lawyer girl" in a chat room. How surprised he is when she arrives on his doorstep: Boisterous ex-con (and executive producer) Queen Latifah wants him to help her clear her record of the felony burglary for which she was framed. And how unsurprised you are that she teaches this uptight white man to shake his booty, open up to his two kids, lust after his ex (Jean Smart) and even outsmart Latifah's thuggish ex (Steve Harris). The broad comedy derives from standard class and race frictions, helped along by Martin's neighbor, Betty White (fearful of "Negroes") and his no. 1 client, Joan Plowright (fond of plantation songs that remind her of childhood servants). Latifah is delightful, and as the man who wisely falls in love with her on first meeting, Eugene Levy brings a welcome dryness to the otherwise predictably soppy proceedings.--Cindy Fuchs (AMC Orleans; Bridge; Narberth; Ritz 16; UA 69th St.; UA Cheltenham; UA Grant; UA Main St.; UA Riverview)
TEARS OF THE SUN
Bruce Willis doesn't do much talking in Antoine Fuqua's mostly somber action picture, set during a fictionalized Nigerian civil war. He's a hardcore Navy SEAL Lieutenant assigned to extract American citizen/French-born physician Monica Bellucci from the jungle. When she says she won't leave without "my people" (Nigerian refugees), he and his team (including Eamonn Walker and Cole Hauser) proceed to escort her and the refugees to Cameroon. Witnessing the rebels' brutality, Willis is increasingly scrunch-faced, indicating conflict over his dedication to duty (embodied by captain Tom Skerritt back on an aircraft carrier) and sympathy for his new charges. His decision to go off-mission leads to combat scenes, in which the U.S. military is alternately thrillingly precise (though they arrive too late to save one village, they do punish the killers) and horribly outnumbered by very mean-looking rebels (led by Malick Bowens). It's like Black Hawk Down with a "happier" ending: The U.S. troops do an obvious right thing, and are loved for it. Given the current moment, this moral lesson (help real people, rather than follow orders) reads like an endorsement of "preemptive" striking if you leave out the bomb-dropping part.--C.F. (AMC Orleans; UA 69th St.; UA Cheltenham; UA Grant; UA Riverview)
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