This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, Nov. 15, 2010 - Made in Hungaria, Directed by Gergely Fonyo, Tuesday, November 16, 6:45 pm, Wednesday, November 17, 8:30 pm, Shown at Plaza Frontenac
Though its cartoonish style is clearly most inspired by the synthetic nostalgia of "Grease" (sometimes even directly imitating scenes from the 1978 film), "Made in Hungaria" is a throwback to 1950s jukebox musicals like "Don't Knock the Rock," only instead of the old fogeys from City Hall trying to shut down the swingin' malt shop, it's the politburo and their underlings getting their dirndls in a bunch over hot new sounds that don't necessarily follow the party line.
At the center of this cultural revolution is Miki Fenyo, who, after having spent four years in the West, returns to Budapest with flashy clothes, wild hair and - worst of all- an extended background in the music of Jerry Lee Lewis and Buddy Holly, music so powerful that it makes every young Hungarian within earshot begin dancing in formation and (if they're female) tearing off their clothes. Of course it all ends in a big state-sponsored talent show where a local comic-relief bureaucrat puts pressure on Miki to help his clueless son win. (Spoiler alert! Rock and Roll saves the day!)
It wasn't until the end credits that I realized Miki Fenyo was a real Hungarian pop star. "Made in Hungaria" is the film adaptation of a popular stage version of Fenyo's life, a Hungarian "Mamma Mia!" or "Jersey Boys," candy-coated, pastel colored and probably no more than 30 percent historically accurate. There are a few digs at the country's Cold War leadership - even Miki's rival, accused of seducing women and stealing their jewelry, is redeemed when he explains that he only robbed from the wives of Party leaders - but nothing so weighty as to disturb the good-time-oldies ambience. It's not really much of a movie - more of a pastiche of '50s cliches and low humor - but it's definitely a curiosity.
Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ny16VY4LWK8
The Queen of Hearts
Directed by Valerie Donzelli
Tuesday, Nov. 16, 9:15 pm
Wednesday, Nov. 17, 6:30 pm
Shown at Plaza Frontenac
In the opening sequence of "The Queen of Hearts" (you can see it here), Adele (Valerie Donzelli, who also wrote and directed the film) has a series of sight-gag adventures as she runs through the streets of Paris. It's like the title sequence to an old sitcom (think "That Girl" or "Mary Tyler Moore"): breezy, playful and, in the long run, pretty short on substance. It's also prophetic of the 80 minutes or so that follow it, an intermittently appealing but exasperatingly self-indulgent comedy whose occasional moments of charm get lost in long stretches of banality. Dumped by her boyfriend immediately after the credits, Adele falls into a stupor. She moves in with an older cousin who pushes her back into the dating pool. She meets prospective young men (all played by the same actor). She breaks into song. "The Queen of Hearts" (whose original French title actually translates as "The Queen of Apples") is something of a one-woman show for Donzelli, who appears to have been given the luxury of complete creative control. It gives the impression that the director and her companions had a lot of fun making the film but never really considered sharing it with an audience.
Vengeance
Directed by Johnny To
Wednesday, November 17, 7 pm
Shown at the Hi-Pointe
Hong Kong action films, noted for their hyperactive staging, extreme violence, extended gunplay and wafer-thin plots, first started to attract interest in the West about 20 years, but thanks to the like of Tarantino and occasional foray into U.S. filmmaking by HK directors like John Woo and Tsui Hark, what was once a cult has now become almost mainstream. Which is bad news for Johnny To, whose "Vengeance" is the first (partially) English language film in a filmography of more than 50 features. From the bloody opening scene to the admittedly well-staged rainswept climax, there's nothing here that hasn't been seen before.
There's a perverse cultural clash at play in "Vengeance": Thinking about breaking into the English-speaking market? Why not cast Johnny Hallyday, the former pop singer often described as "the French Elvis Presley" but almost completely unknown in the U.S.? Hallyday has shed his pop career (well, not entirely) and settled comfortably into the role of grizzled action star, with a face that ranks just below that of Mickey Rourke on the battered-and-abused scale. As Costello, a French restaurateur who arrives in Macau after his daughter is attacked and her husband and children killed by triad assassins, Hallyday is both the most interesting thing in the film and, once he recruits local gangsters to help him find his family's killers, its millstone. "Vengeance" quickly settles into a routine series of triad gun battles in which Hallyday, thanks to a plot point lifted from "Memento," is more often than not narrative dead weight. His situation gives the film a few minutes of moral ambiguity, but the rest is simply an over-familiar series of shoot-outs, sometimes photographed interestingly but never anything more than routine.
Black, White and Blues
Directed by Mario Van Peebles
Wednesday, November 17, 7:15 pm
Shown at the Tivoli
Say what you will about Mario Van Peebles films ("New Jack City," "Posse," "Panther" and "Baadasssss!"), there's nothing sentimental about them. How did he get mixed up in an overly earnest, treacly piece of sanctimony like "Black, White and Blues"? Morgan Simpson plays Jefferson Bailey, a would-be musician whose shot at blues stardom has been defeated by his stage fright - despite the fact that everyone he meets thinks he's a natural musician, women adore him and he's an all-around sensitive guy. (Does it surprise you that the screenplay was written by ... Morgan Simpson?) On the run from a creditor, he's visited by Augy (Michael Clarke Duncan), a taciturn fellow who claims that Bailey is due an inheritance from his estranged grandfather. The two men embark on a road trip to Alabama to pick up the estate - lots of sunsets along the way - and ending up at a roadhouse owned by a kindly and wise old gent named (prepare to groan ...) Santa, played by Tom Skerritt. Many heavy-handed discussions and forced similes about the real nature of the blues ensue. Why do people who make movies about blues players seem to think that musicians sit around swapping banal platitudes that sound like greeting cards?
Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_ot14Dcv2o
Coming Back For More
Directed by Willem Alkema
Thursday, November 18, 9 pm
Shown at the Tivoli
Sylvester Stewart - aka Sly Stone - is one of the great mysteries of the history of pop music. For a brief period, roughly from the release of "Stand!" in 1968 through 1973's "Fresh," Sly and the Family Stone were securely at the top of the music world, breaking the barriers between Top 40, R and B, and the growing FM radio underground. Their sound was unique - a blend of soul music, rock, gospel, with even a little vaudeville or a nursery rhyme thrown in - whether Sly was parading on a concert stage or manipulating countless layers of overdubs for a studio-crafted album like his cynical, sprawling masterpiece "There's a Riot Goin' On." (The title track was blank).
Even at the peak of their popularity, there were rumors of a dark side behind the infectious pre-disco performances, stories of unhappy band members, non-stop drug use, cancelled appearances, even hints of mental instability (It was even suggested that the band leader had a split personality, with Sylvester Stewart as the benign Dr. Jekyll and Sly Stone his malevolent Mr. Hyde). By the middle of the 70s, Sly and the Family Stone had dissolved. Sly made a few solo recordings and occasionally showed up in news stories for one sort of mischief or another, but in time even his notoriety faded away.
In the last few years Sly has been making something of a comeback, with erratic, unpredictable live performances and a handful of interviews, but the idea that he's a troubled reclusive genius remains. That current status sets the stage for Dutch filmmaker Willem Alkema's "Coming Back for More," a simple but completely disarming documentary that works as both a history of the Family Stone and a challenge to its leader to break out of his self-imposed hibernation. Accompanied by Edwin and Arno Konings, twin brothers - and enthusiastic fans - who have spent close to a decade researching the band for a forthcoming book, Alema makes several trips to California, interviewing anyone with a link to Sly - former Family Stone members, producers and managers, family members - staking out recording studios, carefully monitoring rumors and hanging around in the musician's neighborhood. Having told the complete story of the band all that remains is for the filmmakers to wait for a chance encounter with their target.
Surprisingly, they get even more than they expected. Perhaps it was a lucky coincidence, turning up just as Sly began his unsteady return to live performance. Perhaps the singer has his own agenda. Whatever the reason, the last 20 minutes or so of "Coming Back For More" becomes a part of the story, the next chapter in the Family Stone saga. It's also a rarity in non-fiction film, a documentary with a happy ending. The mystery of Sly Stone lives on. Dance to the music.