Mister Lonely Tagged Articles at Cinematical

400 Screens, 400 Blows is a weekly column that takes an in-depth look at the films playing below the radar, beneath the top ten, and on 400 screens or less.

With awards season in full bore, I thought I would go back and look at some of the year's most wonderful sleepers, the films that "fell through the cracks" and are not appearing in awards lists or on top ten lists -- one reason being that they came out earlier in the year and were not issued on "for your consideration" Academy DVD screeners. I'd like to start with one of the most overlooked great films of the year, one that was virtually ignored by both the press and the public: The Dark Knight.

Just kidding. Let's start by looking at The Violin, which is very much worth tracking down. 2006 was the year of the much-publicized "Mexican New Wave," and most writers focused on three major films (Pan's Labyrinth, Children of Men and Babel), while passing over of the terrific smaller ones, like Duck Season and Battle in Heaven. Directed by Francisco Vargas, The Violin was made at around the same time, but didn't surface until 2007 in film festivals, and then early in 2008 for a tiny theatrical release. At the risk of cheapening the film with a cursory plot summary, it's the story of an aged, one-handed man who -- more or less -- helps his guerrilla son by serenading a sensitive but sinister military captain (he has to strap the violin bow to the stump of his hand). Vargas shoots in gorgeous black-and-white, cannily switching between hand-held and still shots.

In describing today's best directors, three terms are generally used (and overused): Maverick, Genius and Auteur. A "maverick" is now used to describe virtually anyone who makes a movie without using Hollywood money. An "auteur" is used to describe anyone who writes as well as directs. And "genius" is used to describe anyone who makes a halfway decent film. I'm taking these words back. In reality, a "maverick" should be a button-pusher. It's a filmmaker who is so radical and daring that even high-minded, forward-thinking critics sneer at their work, people like Vincent Gallo or Catherine Breillat. These people are so dangerous that they have trouble making and distributing films. Harmony Korine, director of Mister Lonely (5 screens) is very much a maverick. Korine has pushed many buttons and many envelopes over the years and though I love his work, he's someone I wouldn't want to invite to my house. (He scares me.)

Werner Herzog, director of Encounters at the End of the World (1 screen), is also a maverick (and, incidentally, a buddy of Korine's). His physically dangerous films have probably had insurance companies slamming the door in his face, and his co-workers have included people who might not be fit for polite society. (At the very least, most of them would turn heads.) Some of his actors have reportedly threatened to kill him. It cracks me up that, because Herzog's documentary Grizzly Man was such a hit, Herzog was allowed to make his new film for the Discovery Channel. I'd really love to have been in on that board meeting. Did they really know who they were dealing with? At the same time, Herzog is also an auteur: all of his films have the same roaming curiosity, fearlessly exploring man's tenuous connection to nature, from Aguirre navigating the Amazon looking for El Dorado, to Timothy Treadwell seeking to befriend the bears.

Over the course of my time in this job I have acquired a reputation as someone who reviews and appreciates lots of foreign films. Of course, at the same time I have occasionally been accused of not understanding these films at all, which is partially true. It's not technically possible for one person to fully absorb and comprehend every facet of every industrialized culture in the world. For one thing, subtitles never accurately translate what's being spoken, and then there are little cultural things, certain behaviors, for example, that may not translate either. Conversely, it's impossible for any one person -- filmmakers included -- to represent a culture. It gets even more complex than that, if you want to boil it down. For example, I could say that I identify with the characters in High Fidelity (2000), but if you consider that I've never been to Chicago, and consider further that the book was originally set in London, then it creates a cultural divide. That movie has levels that will forever be out of my grasp.

You do your best. You keep an open mind. Although, I admit I'm usually disappointed when I see too many Western filmmaking elements slavishly copied in Eastern films (Mongol, The Counterfeiters, etc.); it shows the overwhelming influence of Hollywood on other parts of the world. I'm sure more people in Portugal saw Transformers than saw Manoel de Oliveira or Pedro Costa's latest films.

Big budget Iron Man racking up big box office? Not a shock. The latest from Harmony Korine (Gummo, Julian Donkey-Boy) topping the indie box office chart? That's a surprise. Mister Lonely (IFC Films) only opened at one theater in Manhattan, but it took in $19,100 for the highest per-screen average among indies this weekend, according to estimates compiled by Box Office Mojo. Diego Luna plays a Michael Jackson impersonator; Samantha Morton, Denis Levant and filmmaker Werner Herzog also star. Our own Jeffrey M. Anderson wrote: "Though Mister Lonely seems sweeter and more mainstream than Korine's other films, it still has that sense of randomness, of pathetic luck and habit and wisdom all combining to make up a life, or a collision of lives."

David Mamet's Redbelt (Sony Classics) pulled in $11,433 per screen at six locations. Chiwitel Ejiofor stars as the honorable owner of a Jiu-jitsu studio who is drawn into the world of "pay-per-view mixed martial arts," as Cinematical's James Rocchi described it. He did not feel the film matched the writer/director's best work; "still, even minor Mamet can be a source of major satisfaction, especially with an actor as compelling as Ejiofor in the lead."

Son of Rambow (Paramount Vantage) averaged $10,500 each at five theaters. Garth Jennings' delightful kids' adventure follows two boys as they create their own action movie epic featuring John Rambo. James Rocchi called it "a brilliant celebration of the exuberance and thrill of bad storytelling, of making art, of having dreams."

If you're anywhere near New York City this weekend, you simply must check out the work of this great new filmmaker named Harmony Korine, whose strangely fantastical movie, Mister Lonely, opened yesterday at the IFC Center (it hits Los Angeles on May 9). Some readers may confuse this Korine for the angry young radical who wrote Larry Clark's teen sex drama Kids when he was 19 and later directed the startling divisive, sharply confrontational films Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy.

I assure you that the 1990's-era Korine is long gone -- or, rather, has morphed into an agreeably warmer artist. Mister Lonely, which stars Diego Luna as a Michael Jackson impersonator and New German Cinema legend Werner Herzog as an eccentric priest, doesn't always make sense, but that's precisely what Korine was going for. "I've always been interested in making a perfect nonsense," he told a crowd at the Apple store in lower Manhattan Thursday night. "I never really cared much about plot. I wanted to make movies about moments that went through you, that were experiential."

The writer/director Harmony Korine might have been -- and might still be -- one of the most audacious and terrifying new American talents in some time. At the age of 19, he wrote the script for Larry Clark's Kids (1995) and made his own directorial debut with Gummo (1997), a film so astonishing that most reviewers panned it simply to get it out of their heads. He then made the first official American Dogme 95 film, Julien Donkey-Boy (1999), and cast one of his biggest fans, director Werner Herzog, in a starring role.

All three films conjured up images that inspired the gag reflex. It was hard to look away, though. They were odd and sad and not a little repulsive. From there, he retreated into other art forms, such as photography and music (he directed music videos for Cat Power and Sonic Youth), returning to features only to write Clark's Ken Park (2002), which was so lurid it failed to secure a U.S. distributor. Indeed, like many of the most cutting edge American directors, most of Korine's fans, and financiers, currently reside outside the U.S.

Mister Lonely, directed by Harmony Korine (who previously wrote the screenplay for Larry Clark's Kids), starts out with a great idea: a Michael Jackson impersonator meets a Marilyn Monroe impersonator who takes him to a remote commune for celebrity impersonators, where she lives with her husband Charlie Chaplin and daughter Shirley Temple, along with the Pope, the Queen of England, James Dean, Madonna and the Three Stooges.

Once Jackson settles into this would-be paradise for people who aren't quite what they seem, things start to go a bit awry. Jealousies lurk beneath the surface and start to bubble over; the commune's sheep population gets sick and has to be taken down; and tensions rise. The group pulls together a celebrity impersonator variety show that they hope will attract crowds from far and wide to see and appreciate what they do, but in that effort, too, nothing comes out quite the way they'd hoped.

Saturday was a very busy day here at SXSW. We were up absurdly late on Friday night, and then awakened at 8AM by a car alarm going off outside our window, followed by all four of my kids' soccer coaches calling me from OKC to let me know that today's games were canceled due to cold weather. Thanks, guys, but I'm in Austin. After the panel this morning, I grabbed lunch with filmmaker AJ Schnack (Kurt Cobain: About a Son), who also writes a very excellent blog called All These Wonderful Things.

We gabbed about documentaries, traveling for film fests, balancing work and family, and lots of other stuff; he's a supremely nice guy and it's always fun chatting with someone who's as big a dork for documentary films as I am. Our lunch ran long due to crowds at all the area restaurants, so I missed the screening of We Are Wizards and had to bump it out to a later day in the fest.

Another long day here in Austin ... but definitely a fun one. Went to see two films today: Mister Lonely and Explicit Ills. I was lukewarm on both films; the first was completely out there -- about a Michael Jackson impersonator who hooks up with a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, as well as a group of impersonators, who live out their days in a house -- together -- in the middle of nowhere. Shot beautifully, I still haven't quite wrapped my head around it, but it was peaceful, meditative and pretty. Four words: Werner Herzog is awesome. Explicit Ills, on the other hand, was a film starring folks like Rosario Dawson and Paul Dano (who's nabbed top billing even though he appears in all of about seven minutes of the flick), and it jumps between several different "urban" stories -- some more developed than others. There's a message there about poverty and health care (I half-expected the film to fade to black with a message to vote for Hilary Clinton), but parts of it were daunting, while Mark Webber did a heckuva good job behind the camera.

From there, I headed over to this party for the film Bi the Way -- a party which took place outside on some sort of hippie commune. I kid you not; there were campfires, face painting and burlesque dancers (who deserve major kudos for taking off their tops in the freezing cold). At one point during the party, this girl walks up to me and goes, "Hey, you interviewed me in Berlin!" I turned and it was none other than the very awesome Jess Weixler (who starred in Teeth) -- apparently she was there hanging with filmmaker Joe Swanberg (whose Nights and Weekends premieres here tomorrow night). I told Jess that I couldn't believe she remembered an idiot like me, but she did ... and we chatted until Joe pulled her away. Great girl, great actress ... and I wouldn't be surprised if she showed up in the next Swanberg film. (But you didn't hear that from me ....)

Finally made my way back to the hotel, and as I was getting in the elevator Seann William Scott was getting out. He's here (I imagine) promoting his new film The Promotion, which also screens tomorrow night. I almost yelled "Stifler!" but unfortunately I was way too tired. Good times, we'll catch you on the flip side.

Oh crap. I just realized it's time to turn the clocks ahead. Thank God -- I actually thought I blacked out for an hour. Phew.