October 16-22, 2003

screen picks

by Sam Adams

Illegal Art Extravaganza (through Sun., Oct. 19, Prince Music Theater, 1412 Chestnut St., 215-569-9700) Like a good many things (none of which we’ll mention), art is more fun when it’s illegal. True, none of the Prince’s weekend offerings will get you clapped in irons for watching them, though they might get their creators some pretty strongly worded cease-and-desist letters. The legality in question is the use and reuse of copyrighted (and trademarked) material, which becomes a more and more salient issue as Congress, spurred on by corporations desperate to maintain control over their brand names and associated imagery, continues to tilt the balance in favor of copyright holders, not to mention extending what were initially conceived as limited licenses into the indefinite future. We can’t have Mickey Mouse entering the public domain, now can we?

The point made, directly or indirectly, by every feature or short to be shown this weekend is that the inevitable entry of copyrighted material into the public domain, and the Òfair useÓ provision of copyright law that allows for limited re-appropriation, is in the interest of everyone except the individuals (or, more often, corporations) who control the rights. Piracy, the bugaboo media conglomerates drag out of the closet when they want to ram through a particularly draconian piece of legislation like the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, is a separate issue, but it’s hard to argue that a movie like Todd Haynes’ Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story represents an attempt to take a bite out of corporate profits. Superstar, shown (without permission) as the centerpiece of the second shorts program (Sat., 8 p.m.), uses an all-Barbie-doll cast to re-enact the life of the honey-throated ’70s songbird whose chirpy tunes (recorded with brother Richard) camouflaged an ultimately fatal eating disorder. Though its appropriation of Carpenter’s story as a metaphor for the willful ignorance of Nixon-era America is at least as cruel as it is smart -- whatever you think of her music, Carpenter was a sick woman who died a horrible death -- there’s no denying the uncomfortable effectiveness of Haynes’ Brechtian manipulations. The film, more or less the Holy Grail of copyright-infringement art, is doubly cursed; neither the use of Barbie dolls nor The Carpenters’ music was authorized. Technically, the film can’t legally be exhibited, even for free, but the Prince is hardly the first organization to take the plunge. Among the shorts to be shown with Haynes’ 45-minute featurette are Andrew Jeffrey Wright and Clare Rojas’ brain-twisting ich bin ein manipulator, which does all manner of impolite things to photographs from glossy fashion mags, and Joe Gibbons’ even more disturbing Barbie’s Audition, a one-shot Pixelvision opus in which a slimy casting director tries to take advantage of Ken’s woman.

The first shorts program (Thu., 7:30 p.m.) includes an appearance by filmmaker Jon Rouston, whose Cremaster 4 condenses Matthew Barney’s art-film-thing to broadcast-TV length, complete with commercial breaks. The weekend climaxes with an appearance by Negativland’s Mark Hosler, who will present a program of the multimedia culture jamming outfit’s Òpranks and hoaxesÓ on Friday at 8 p.m.

Max Fleischer Tribute (Fri., Oct. 17, 8 p.m., $6, Moore College of Art & Design, 20th and Race sts., 215-568-4515, x4099) Secret Cinema presents an evening of classic cartoons from the studios of Max Fleischer, whose jazzed-up creations are the antithesis of Disney’s soft-edged family fare. Creating such famous characters as Betty Boop and Koko the Clown, not to mention literally giving voice to E.C. Segar’s Popeye, Fleischer’s creations are the ink-and-paint equivalent of pre-Code Hollywood cinema, more raucous and unrestrained than anything for decades to come. Ranging from 1924-42, the Secret Cinema program offers a generous helping of Betty, Koko and Popeye, as well as numerous side dishes.

Divine Women, Divine Work (Sat., Oct. 18, 2 p.m., $10, Painted Bride Art Center, 230 Vine St., 215-925-9914) Bad poetry is to young female filmmakers what genre retreads are to their male counterparts, which means this 12-piece showcase, curated by Philadelphian (and occasional CP contributor) Maori Karmael Holmes, is way too full of lulling voiceovers, amorphous imagery and rechanneled childhood reminiscences. So much so, in fact, that the best films probably stand out more than they should. I Am Ali, by sometime Voice writer Dream Hampton, begins promisingly with its story of a young black man who becomes obsessed with Mohammad Ali to the extent that his imitations start to take over his own personality. But the film, which might be a comment on the lack of role models for African-American men, never develops beyond a character study, or takes on the provocative issues it almost raises, but doesn't quite. Of the half-dozen Philadelphia entries, Barbara Kigozi's Fo(u)nd Memories and Malati Rao's Crunch stand out for their clarity and thoughtfulness.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Sat., Oct. 18, 3 p.m., $8.50, Prince Music Theater) The Prince’s Kid’s Corner Classics starts up again with a big-screen look at Spielberg’s aliens-above-us classic.

The Adventures of Robin Hood ($26.99 DVD) Michael Curtiz’s 1938 version of the British folk legend is significantly slower on its feet than star Errol Flynn; even some of the carefully staged combat scenes drag -- when Robin drops in on the villainous King John’s banquet, it seems to take hours for a hint of confrontation to emerge -- but every once in a while, an image pops up that totally commands the screen. When Robin and the even-badder Guy of Gisbourne lock swords, their figures dance off screen and are replaced briefly by their dueling silhouettes, cast on a monumental stone pillar. Curtiz’s version is also notable for its realistic touches, reflected in its muted Technicolor palate and close attention to the details of medieval British life. The Warner Bros. DVD adds audio commentary and an extra disc of documentaries; a spectacular restored print is also showing at the Roxy for another week.

Space is the Place ($24.95 DVD) As uncategorizable as it is inexplicable, this 1974 curiosity, exhumed on DVD by Plexifilm and to be shown at the Trocadero on Oct. 28 as part of a launch party for Wax Poetics magazine, might best be described as a conceptual biography, the Òlife storyÓ of the Saturnian free-jazz pioneer Sun Ra. Not content to be merely from Saturn, Ra here is a kind of intergalactic space god who fights the devil for the soul of Earth -- at least, I think he is. Coaxing a semblance of plot out of Space is the Place is about as fruitful a pursuit as waiting for the Arkestra to lapse into four-four time, but the movie’s fertile brew of blaxploitation, The Seventh Seal and ultra-low-budget sci-fi -- not to mention snatches of vintage Arkestra performances -- make for a movie unlike anything you’ve ever seen, or could possibly duplicate. It’s enough to make you believe, as billed here, that Ra is indeed Òthe most influential musician of this and 30 million galaxies.Ó