Margaret, Dir. Kenneth Lonergan
Now Playing at SIFF Cinema

You Can Count on Me, the Oscar-nominated 2000 directorial debut of playwright Kenneth Lonergan, was a marvel in miniature:  a brilliantly acted, acutely rendered character study that displayed a firm grasp of what to leave unsaid. Margaret, Lonergan’s follow-up, unfortunately accrued some legendarily bad mojo on its way to the screen. Originally shot in 2006, the footage collected dust on the shelf as the director and producer waged a legal war over the length of the final cut, with various running times reportedly ranging from 90 minutes to over four hours. Now finally granted release in 150 minute form (Martin Scorsese apparently lent an uncredited editorial hand), the resulting film is a truly odd experience: a sweepingly expansive post 9-11 reflection that is beautiful and frustrating and insightful and unfocused, sometimes all in the very same scene. I can’t stop thinking about it.

The story follows the wobbly trajectory of Lisa Cohen (Anna Paquin), a privileged Upper West Side teenager whose combination of calculated disdain and vulnerability serve to flummox both her mother (J. Smith Cameron, Lonergan’s real-life wife) and teachers (including a still-dewy Matt Damon).  After she inadvertently contributes to a horrific traffic accident, Lisa finds her carefully constructed universe imploding, with her guilt leading her on a self-serving crusade against the bus driver (Mark Ruffalo) involved in the crash. Any capsule plot description, though, is really only scratching the surface of the filmmaker’s ambition, which combines pungent observations about education and art and performing and racism and the absurdities of the legal system into a heady, sometimes baffling stew. (The title of the film, taken from a Gerard Manly Hopkins poem, should serve as an indicator that the movie is aiming for the intellectual upper decks.)

Great movies are rarely perfect movies, to steal a line from Pauline Kael, and Margaret certainly qualifies for at least the latter category. Not to sympathize too much with the studio folks, but there are some notable flaws present here — most notably some shaky staging, and the relative unlikeability of the majority of the characters — that would rankle regardless of the film’s length. For all of its problems, however, Lonergan’s crazily overstuffed vision contains so many moments that feel just so perfectly, dead-solid right that it makes virtually everything else out there seem safe and toothless in comparison.  Grand folly, or unjustly truncated masterpiece? Both, maybe.

Also opening this week: Liam Neeson dukes it out with wolves in the existential action movie The Grey (Check out my review for the Portland Mercury), and the dopey but fun thriller Man on a Ledge, which I wrote up for Amazon.com.

Questions? Comments? Gerard Manly Hopkins knock knock jokes? Let me know at alwright@gmail.com

Director Steven Soderbergh has long made a habit of polishing up some pretty dusty genres, with results as varied as the glitzy heist movie (Ocean’s 11), the weepily inspirational true story (Erin Brockovich), and the all-star disaster flick (Contagion). Although a certain ironic humor pulses through all of his projects, the director crucially never looks down at his material, rather finding ways to bring what once connected with audiences back up to code.

The beauty of Haywire, Soderbergh’s astonished ode to the physical prowess of former American Gladiator Gina Carano, is how it genuinely feels like the type of movie you’d see at 3am starring Brian Bosworth, only, you know, good. Sporting a ridiculously overqualified cast and with all the non-essential elements jazzed into abstraction, it’s a pleasure without the slightest bit of guilt attached. If Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy brought back the joy of movies that respect and test the intelligence of the audience, then Soderbergh and Co. here rekindle the basic visceral pleasure of watching good-looking people duke it out, without a million disorienting cuts. This is not a small thing.

Soderbergh and writer Lem Dobbs, who previously collaborated on the brilliant The Limey, bring the same fractured (yet easily followed) style into play here, telling the story of Mallory Kane (Carano), a gloweringly lethal covert agent who gets left out to dry after a mission involving a fellow spy (Michael Fassbender) goes wrong. As she hunts down her weasel of an ex-boss (Ewan McGregor), actors such as Channing Tatum, Michael Douglas, and Antonio Banderas all frantically try to stay out of range of her fists and feet. That’s all there is to it, really, but the intentional narrative simplicity is more than balanced by the deliciously straight-faced performances, some implausible-not-impossible action sequences (particularly a terrifically staged rooftop chase where the roving camera just always manages to be at exactly the right spot), and the way the music drops out during the brutally efficient fight scenes, all the better to appreciate the various thwacks, grunts, and thuds of the actors. Still, all of the filmmaking razzle-dazzle wouldn’t amount to much if the center didn’t hold, and Carano handily gets the job done. If her lack of experience makes her register more as a presence than an actor at this point, she brings a determination and no-fooling physicality to the movie that a more seasoned star would be lucky to muster. In a time of incomprehensible editing and waif-models beating up entire CGI armies , an extended shot of her determinedly hoofing it down an alleyway is the visual effect of the season.

–

Also playing this week is SIFF Cinema’s terrific lineup of some of 2010’s best documentaries, featuring such worthy contenders as the heart wrenching man and monkey story Project Nim, Werner Herzog’s probing and brilliantly pointed death row saga Into the Abyss, and the fantastic musical reunion Thunder Soul, which manages to be feel-good without leaving any cloying aftertaste. (Click on the links for my reviews elsewhere.) Go to them all, or just wander into the theater at random; you can’t go wrong, really.

Questions? Comments? Pictures of the Boz? Let me have ‘em at alwright@gmail.com

Next Week: The long, long, long delayed Margaret (Note: don’t Google it unless you have some free time.)

As Nancy points out at the beginning of this week’s show, Greg was a consummate professional, as proficient at hooking up a distortion-heavy 5 piece band as he was miking a guy making bologna sandwiches with his feet. On a show that sometimes seems to consist of nothing but curveballs, he could always be counted on to come up with the best solution. Maybe more than that, though, he was just fun to be around, a guy who had a story for every situation, as well as a knack for vacuuming the stress out of even the longest day.

Back to that laugh for a moment: Talking with former Art Zone staffer Sonja after Monday’s tragic news, we both realized that our favorite parts of the shooting day were during the early morning microphone tests, when we’d launch into the most bizarre conversations we could, all in an attempt to hear him howling from the other, supposedly sound-proofed, room. (Thinking back to the content of most of those conversations, I now realize that Greg’s generosity may have been his finest quality.) To his wife and two sons, I hope they can take some comfort from the hundreds of local musicians who found themselves elevated by his talents, as well as his coworkers who will miss him and his gifts terribly. All I know, however selfishly, is that without him around, this job is going to feel a lot more like work.

8:32am: Morning Meeting. Always fun to watch crew’s attempts to stay out of the way of camera and lights. I say this while lurking behind a curtain.

9:51am: Jose Gonzales is in the house, with another list of recommendations destined to drive up ITune bills. Beat-boxing temporarily breaks out.

10:46am: Forced to do another take when a tree starts mysteriously moving in the background. Little Shop of Horrors stuck in head for rest of day.

11:20am: A lamp bites the dust during scenery change. Sad, but nowhere near as upsetting as the nuclear jello lava lamp incident from a while back.

11:22am: What happens when you break a lava lamp, anyway? Seven years of bad munchies? A ferret gets its wings? … Is this thing on? Oops.

1:24pm: Cleaning out fridge in preparation for interviewing guests. If you see a saran-wrapped thing crawling down the street, there’s your answer.

2:10pm: Rehearsing for upcoming improvisational performance. This is one of those jumbo shrimp / forward retreat type of deals.

2:43pm: Woman in improv troupe just dropped and spontaneously started doing pushups while talking in funny voices. This is going to be interesting.

3:01pm: 1st improv session occurs. Topic: The EMP. Veers into discussion of hoses, skulls, and Fluegelhorns. My kingdom for a Flowchart.

3:13pm: 2nd improv. Topic: Waiting for the bus. Baboons, deodorant, and wonderbras. Sound guy Greg declares them better than barrel of monkeys.

3:22pm: Final improv. Topic: panhandling. Old televisions, Goldilocks, pushing old ladies down stairs. Worried Greg may actually laugh head off.

3:43pm: Wrap on the loosest show in quite a while. Will be some time before everyone stops random associating. Purple Monkey Dishwasher.

-Andy

8:32am: Somber mood at the opening meeting, as it’s the last day for The Amazing Sonja. Mitigated slightly by amazing assortment of parting gifts.

9:20am: Nancy reveals severely spooky-cool self-portrait of Graham Nash for upcoming segment. “Almost Cut My Hair” lyrics suddenly make more sense.

9:43am: Over the past 24 hours, we’ve had both a camera and a mixing board go south. Scared to touch anything, to be honest.

9:55am: Robert Horton is in the house, wearing a tie that beggars description. Man’s got style. Creepy photo of Graham Nash seems to approve.

11:05am: Brief discussion in control room over how best to describe Nancy’s sweater. Consensus seems to be “Shingled.”

11:12am: Cameraman Bob gads about the studio with Sonja’s feathered boa. This is fairly restrained for Bob. Hope he’s not coming down with something.

11:37am: After nearly 3 hours in the studio, featured art has yet to attack anyone. Knock on wood.

12:08am: Nancy delivers a huge mouthful of dialog about the featured art, while standing perilously close to the fan blade. Sure, provoke it.

1:42: Erin Jorgensen arrives with her marimba, a beautiful instrument which contains at least 11 billion separate parts. Assembly required.

3:44: The marimba may be the best instrument in the world, boasting both a gorgeous sound, and a really fun name to say. Tough break, Flügelhorn.

4:12: Wrap on what feels like one of our best musical segments ever. Group hug with Sonja follows. For first time, wish show had run longer.

-Andy

8am: Morning meeting. Director Travis mentions that today’s guests include one of the 12 sexiest bald men in the world. Uneasy silence follows.

8:20am: Trays of cupcakes, muffins, and other goodies everywhere. Office looks like the site of peace accords between Keeblers and Oompa Loompas.

9:09am: Shooting of the open begins. Nancy is wearing her awesome barbarian vest, which bodes well for the day. As long as she doesn’t hurt me.

9:35am: Orville Johnson Trio performs. Lots of amazing pickin’, moderate amount of grinnin’, a few unearthly yelps from Orville.

10:28am: Playing air guitar in front of camera as lighting stand-in for upcoming sexy bald performer, Andre Feriante. Never felt hairier.

10:59am: Andre performs. Exceeds expectations. Deity-level guitar playing seems to be becoming an Open Studio tradition. Dude must have 28 fingers.

12:28pm: Markeith Wiley is performing. Nice guy, superb dancer, accompanied by a way-cool replica of old-school video game music. I need quarters.

12:41pm: Nancy briefly breakdances. I’d say more, but, you know, barbarian vest.

1:55pm: Post-lunch; crew is momentarily distracted by glitterball that’s been kept in the office freezer for six days. Probably should delete this.

2:23pm: Band Speak transforms studio into cross between 40′s film noir and David Lynch outtake. Really eerie stuff, in a really, really good way.

4:10pm: 2 Things I’ve learned from Monica Schley: 1) Harps have foot pedals. 2) She has enough talents to legally be considered a superhero.

4:42pm: End of shooting. Cut, wrap, print, pass out. Not necessarily in that order.

-Andy

(Note: I would hereby like to state for the record that I have no idea where the motor for said air conditioner is located, nor would I ever consider sabotaging it. Honest. I enjoy my job.)

Only adding to the strangeness of the day were the friendly guys in tool belts who would open gaping holes in the ceiling, put up support beams seemingly at random, and then disappear, clanking, into the crawlspaces for hours on end. Taken all together, I’m considering it lucky that nobody on the crew took a wrong turn in the equipment closet and ended up in Narnia.

Still, amid all the chaos, a memorable show was produced, thanks to the boundless enthusiasm of Nancy, ace sound guy Greg, and the rest of the usual suspects. Thanks also to Adrian Xavier and his band, who brought in such a positive aura that it was possible to ignore the surrounding weirdness. Temporarily, anyway.

Coming up next week: A really, really big show. Well, that, or the entire studio somehow travels back in time. The odds at this point are 50/50, honestly.

- Andy

Sad as it is to see Mr. Wilson go, however, it also signals good times ahead, as it means the reappearance of our regular director Travis Muller, making a welcome return from parts unknown and points continental. Glad to have you back, Travis. Mind the remaining lava lamp.

Whatever the potential for some mild jostling in the cabin area, however, you wouldn’t know it from the taping of the show, which went remarkably smooth, even with the addition of a few potentially calamitous factors, namely:

- Phyllis Fletcher’s baby Gus, who, in addition to being seriously adorable, registered, like, a 0.0 on the decibel scale.

- The largest number of musicians (9) ever assembled in our studio at one time (Conga Joy, who completely rocked the joint, even accounting for a rather uncanny resemblance to a late 90’s Iron John revival).

(Watch the show now)

We’re in the mid-season groove, is what I’m saying.

Coming up next week: Another mighty lineup hits the studio, for our first show to be re-broadcast on KCTS 9. Not that we’re letting our success go to our heads or anyth … oops. Don’t you just hate it when you drop caviar on your mink spats?

- Andy

The shebang kicked off with regular film guru Robert Horton, who boldly put his considerable critical reputation on the line by guaranteeing Jeff Bridges would win the Oscar this year for Crazy Heart. Note to Robert: We’re holding you to it. (Additional Note: Robert’s end of the year Critics Wrap, also featuring critical luminaries Kathleen Murphy, Jim Emerson, and some wild-haired Avatar fan who apparently snuck into the proceedings, can still be seen here.

Things continued on the good foot with an in-studio, off-the-cuff appearance by Pat and Patty Cashman. Hmmm, you know, between Pat, Nancy, and aforementioned cough-ridden director Steve Wilson, we’re edging closer and closer to a full-fledged Almost Live reunion. No pressure, Nancy.

Finally, the show eased out on a mellow tone with singer Choklate, the mightily piped singer who, in addition to being featured in our spiffy new show open, also graced our stage way back in our first season. The positive feelings of Déjà vu were only intensified by bassist Evan Flory-Barnes, making his third AZ appearance. All told, it was a strong indicator of good things to come in 2010. Assuming, of course, that we can talk Steve into investing in some Ricola.

- Andy

Seattle City Council 2009: A Year in Review
Hosted by C. R. Douglas
Plays Thursday, December 31, 6:30 p.m.
Join SEATTLE CHANNEL’s C.R. Douglas as he sits down for one-on-one interviews with all nine Seattle City Council Members: Council President Richard Conlin and Councilmembers Tim Burgess, Sally Clark, Jan Drago, Jean Godden, Bruce Harrell, Nick Licata, Richard McIver and Tom Rasmussen. Find out what they think were the Council’s biggest accomplishments and what, if any, were the lost opportunities of 2009. Plus, hear their thoughts on what the political and policy climate will be like at City Hall with new Mayor Mike McGinn and two new Council Members, Mike O’Brien and Sally Bagshaw. They also share their concerns about the City and their hopes for 2010.

TownSquare: CityClub’s Annual Year in Review
Plays Thursday, December 31, 10:00 a.m.
CityClub’s 2009 Year in Review panel includes four of our region’s top leaders: Washington State Attorney General Rob McKenna, Senior Counselor Jack Schneiderman, Chair of the Association of Washington Business Jack McRae, and President of Washington State University Dr. Elson Floyd. The four panelists are experts in the areas of education, politics, healthcare and journalism. They will analyze the current state of our region and make predictions about the region’s future.

An Evening With: The Year in Film
Premieres Thursday, December 31, 11:00 p.m.
Waiting for the new year? What better way to pass the final hour of 2009 than figuring out the best and worst films of the year! The Everett Herald‘ s and Art Zone‘s Robert Horton moderates a panel discussion with local film critics about the year in film. Joining Horton are MSN.com‘s Kathleen Murphy, The Stranger‘s Andrew Wright, and Chicago Sun-Times ‘ blogger Jim Emerson.

City Inside/Out with C.R. Douglas: The Year in Politics
Plays Saturday, January 2, 6:00 p.m.
Tune in for our one-hour special, where we take stock of 2009. We’ll sit down with the newsmaker of the year–Seattle Mayor-elect Mike McGinn–, hear from past three past Seattle mayors–Norm Rice, Charles Royer and Wes Uhlman–about lessons learned, and convene a journalist roundtable on the year’s headlines. In-studio guests are Seattle Post-Intelligencer‘s Joel Connelly, The Seattle Times‘ Lynne Varner and The Puget Sound Business Journal‘s Deirdre Gregg and Publicola‘s Josh Feit.