October 14-20, 2004
screen picks
Reelblack Presents (Sat., Oct. 16, 7 p.m., $5, Sedgwick Cultural Center, 7137 Germantown Ave., 215-248-9229) After building an audience at the Prince, Reelblack Presents, curated by local filmmaker Michael Dennis, moves forward with an invigorated fall lineup and a new home at Mt. Airy’s Sedgwick. The season kicks off with a program of local shorts "by and about people of color," which ought to be a sure-fire draw. Many of the shorts, like Andrew Gura’s delightful On the DL and Mikal Odom’s Dreamsong, have been seen on local screens before, but the half-dozen films in the three-hour program have much to say to each other.
The Philly Shorts Collection, Vol. 1 has its share of downbeat stories, from Robert X. Golphin’s hand-wringing Simply Untitled to Maori Holmes’ illustrated poetry reading Twentyfour. But the most compelling films let the complexity flow rather than pouring it on. On the DL may seem like a trifle compared to Simply Untitled -- after all, there’s not a junkie sister in sight. But Gura’s humorous, semi-documentary study of two African-American men studying for their driver’s tests actually addresses a significant gap in American cinema: the dearth of black characters who aren’t defined by their problems. That the men in On the DL are two of Philadelphia’s most famous musicians -- DJ/producer King Britt and Roots drummer Ahmir "?uestlove" Thompson -- only adds to the sense of discovery. It shouldn’t be a surprise that men in their 30s, hip-hop stars or not, worry about passing their driver’s tests like anyone else, but On the DL’s matter-of-fact, tongue-in-cheek style serves as an implicit rebuke to the glorification of bling: How many hip-hop personages of Thompson’s stature would let themselves be shown waiting for the bus, let alone chasing their ride on foot?
Striking out in similarly virgin territory, Les Rivera’s Glass Camouflage is an incisive portrayal of the subtle and not-so-subtle racism encountered by the black singer of an otherwise all-white hardcore band (at least before its clumsy conclusion, which Magic Markers what’s already been put down in ink). Anyone who responded to James Spooner’s documentary Afropunk will understand the dynamic at play.
Dennis will also speaks on "the current state of black film" and screen clips from The Reelblack Motion Picture Manifesto, a newly minted DVD collection of his own short films, at Penn’s W.E.B. DuBois House (Thu., Oct. 14, 7 p.m., free, 3900 Walnut St.). Highlights include documentary portraits of Jazzyfatnastees, a 23-year-old Chris Rock, and local soul singer Alma Horton (who also turns up as ?uestlove’s driver’s ed instructor in On the DL), as well as The Story of Breakout, a parodic tale of a hip-hop wannabe whose mix tapes number in the hundreds. And, writes Dennis, "Bring money. I need to sell some flicks."
Oporto of My Childhood (premieres Tue., Oct. 19, 10:30 a.m., Sundance Channel) Sundance Channel’s tribute to mercurial Portuguese auteur Manoel de Oliveira is a VCR alert for anyone who missed the Philadelphia screenings of I’m Going Home and A Talking Picture, which air throughout the month. But even Oliveira regulars probably haven’t seen the 2001 Oporto, undistributed in the U.S. due to its complex structure and brief length (just over an hour). Announcing its concern with memory in an opening title, the 95-year-old director’s 35th film is, after a fashion, an elegy for his hometown, or at least the parts of it that no longer exist. A picture of "the ghost" of the home he grew up in seems trapped midway between a photograph and a painting, which is a fairly good description of Oporto as a whole. Re-creations of places Oliveira remembers from childhood, more impressions than vignettes, contrast abruptly, almost cruelly, with the glass-fronted boutiques that the nightclubs and parlors of his youth have become. Not all the memories are consequential, which might be the point: A memory of being driven "the long way home" after a theater performance that marked him as a child plays out as a lengthy shot out the front of an imposing black town car; flashes of descending streets are visible, but rarely details. (Watch for a rare onscreen appearance by Oliveira in the play his younger self watches.) As in A Talking Picture, Oliveira’s theatrical staging emphasizes the art in artificial, as does his voiceover observation that in remembering his younger self, "I saw myself as naturally as I had seen the actors in the theater." The idea that memory, and by extension identity, is as mediated as any stage play, has profound implications which Oporto hints at more than it exhausts. But suggestion is the hallmark of Oliveira’s recent films, and Oporto certainly leaves a lot hanging in the air.
The Cow/Hamoun ($29.95 each DVD) Though Dariush Mehrjui’s The Cow (1969) is often cited as a forerunner of the Iranian neorealist tradition, it’s equally a harbinger of the country’s characteristic blend of rhetoric and mysticism. The setting is a small village, whose sole cow is prized by all, but especially by Hassan (Ezzatolah Entezami), whose bovine love is downright obsessive. When Hassan leaves for a few days, the cow mysteriously dies. The villagers plan a ruse to delay his discovery of the cow’s death, but Hassan sees right through it: "My cow wouldn’t run away," he says, as if citing an article of faith; to prove it, he takes the cow’s place, relocating to the stable and chomping on hay as if he’d rather relinquish his humanity than admit his error.
The Cow’s bleak depiction of village life, never more acute than in the stunning scene where the villagers band together to hide the cow’s body in an old well, led to its censorship by the Shah, though it was smuggled to the Venice Film Festival in 1971. Mehrjui’s limited resources are often apparent, but so is the clarity of his vision.
Mehrjui’s 1990 Hamoun is an altogether murkier experience, appropriately so, since its protagonist is a muddle-minded intellectual (Khosro Shakibai) whose confusion leads him to ever-more-desperate acts. What at times seems like pious anti-intellectualism -- Hamoun’s insufficient faith in Islam is often referred to as the source of his woes -- is balanced, if not necessarily offset, by a whimsical streak which allows Mehrjui to depict the clash between Islamic traditionalism and foreign commerce as a battle between a Samurai and a roller-skating Persian warrior. As Hamoun struggles to complete a doctoral tract on love, his wife is following through on her promise to divorce him (though, this being Islamic society, she still needs his permission). The film’s rhetorical style sometimes gives way to caricature, particularly in Shakibai’s performance, but few movies offer more insight into the struggle between modernity and tradition in contemporary Iran.
Both movies are available for the first time on DVD -- The Cow in a decent black-and-white print, Hamoun in a more battered and unletterboxed transfer.
Misc. Picks International House’s Primary Cinema gets into full bloom next week, but you’ll be blue if you miss Red Desert (Wed., Oct. 20, 7 p.m.), the first color feature by Michelangelo Antonioni. Where else will you see Monica Vitti and Richard Harris on the same screen? The cinematic arm of the Rosenbach’s Release the Bats! festival continues, at a price: A video screening of A Chinese Ghost Story, preceded by discussion with author Jonathan Maberry, will run you a cool $20. (Wed., Oct. 20, 6:30 p.m., 2008 Delancey Place). The County and Ambler get in the spookin’ game with Rosemary’s Baby (starts Wed., Oct. 20).
-- Respond to this article in our Forums -- click to jump there
