In one of the biggest, baddest episodes of the Way Too Indiecast yet, we welcome two of the best directors in the game as we hear from Richard Linklater about his ’80s college hangout movie Everybody Wants Some!! and are joined by Jeff Nichols, whose sci-fi thriller Midnight Special hits theaters this weekend as well.

WTI’s very own Ananda Dillon chats with Bernard about what she saw of AMC’s new Preacher series at WonderCon this past weekend, and if that wasn’t enough, the Dastardly Dissenter himself, CJ Prince, chimes in to talk about the recent controversy surrounding the Tribeca Film Festival and share his Indie Pick of the Week. Whew! What are you waiting for? Dive into the deep end of this week’s pool of ooey gooey Indiecast goodness!

And if that last sentence grosses you out…um…just hit play and enjoy.

Topics

• Indie Picks (5:18)
• Richard Linklater (18:42)
• Preacher Preview (32:17)
• Tribeca Vaxxed Controversy (51:13)
• Jeff Nichols (1:06:32)

Articles Referenced

• City of Gold Interview
• Fireworks Wednesday Review
• Everybody Wants Some!! Interview
• Midnight Special Interview
• Preacher Preview

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Like his 2011 film Take Shelter, Jeff Nichols‘ Midnight Special was born out of fear, specifically the fear of losing his son.

“I think, really, we’re terrified of losing them, so we’re going to try to figure out who they are to try to help them. Help them become the ones who manifest their own destiny,” the director told me during an interview I conducted a couple of weeks back. That fatherly fear is at the core of the film, though the story blossoms into something much bigger, touching on themes of friendship, homeland security, science, and religion, all in the mode of a sci-fi thriller.

Michael Shannon stars as a man escorting his supernaturally gifted son to a secret location, all while evading an armed religious sect and U.S. military forces. Aiding them on their journey is an old friend (Joel Edgerton) and the boy’s mother (Kirsten Dunst); a government scientist (Adam Driver), meanwhile, tries to understand the family’s plight as he tracks their location.

Terrifically thrilling and deeply affecting, Midnight Special is yet another showcase by one of this generation’s very best visual storytellers and opens in theaters this weekend.

Some people consider your movies to be vague or overly ambiguous. That’s maybe the biggest criticism levied against you.
It’s funny how everybody wants to be polite. Obviously, I made the film with an open ending on purpose. It’s like, let’s talk about it! If you don’t like it…maybe, rather than just being entrenched in your position, if we talk about it, you might be illuminated on something. It was funny, I had a good conversation with a lady in Berlin about [the movie]. She had a very specific place where she thought I should end the movie. She was very specific about not liking the end of the movie, and I said, “That’s cool. Where would you end the movie?” She told me, and I thought, that would be a terrible ending! She was like, “Well, it’s right. That’s where you should have ended it.” I was like, I really don’t think you’re right! I didn’t convince her, but it was at least fun to have a conversation.

So you do enjoy those conversations.
I do, yeah.

I do, too. If I meet a filmmaker and I didn’t like their movie, maybe, and I get illuminated by their insight…I love that.
The reality is, making movies is really complex. It’s a strange algebra. There are so many variables that go into them. I would be shocked if you met a filmmaker who said, “My film’s perfect,” you know? I don’t know if I want to be friends with that person.

Tommy Wiseau.
[laughs] It goes beyond ego. I want these films to be conversation starters, so of course it makes sense that I would want to have conversations about them. As long as people don’t ask me too many specifics about things. It’s cool to see how people’s minds work on them and work on the problems I created. It’s cool to hear how people interpret things, sometimes random, sometimes spot-on, sometimes differently. It’s fun.

In some ways, this movie is like the Superman movie I always wanted in terms of tone and taste, do you know what I mean?
I do.

The existential crisis of Superman is something that’s seldom handled well.
That’s very interesting. I think Zack Snyder scratched the surface of it. I think someone—maybe it was JJ Abrams—was talking about [doing] a Superman film and he was like, “I just wonder how he didn’t kill anybody as a baby.” I know that there are other people who have takes on it. I never saw this character as a superhero—I just saw him as a boy. His illnesses I just thought of as being organic, even though they’re supernatural. The same thing happened with

The same thing happened with Take Shelter. To your comment, specifically—wanting to see a certain version of a kind of movie…This is going to sound ridiculous, but Take Shelter was kind of my zombie movie. Take Shelter was my take on all those cool feelings in a zombie film where people are preparing for a disaster or preparing for the zombie stuff. I just wanted to make a movie that lived in that part. Then you start to make it deeper and more meaningful and relate it to your life, but that was very much the case with Take Shelter and here [with Midnight Special] too. I really liked those movies of the ’80s and sci-fi movies from that period. I kind of wanted to live in that world for a little bit, which doesn’t negate, though, my approach to the story or how I broaden its veins into my own life. It doesn’t discount that feeling, that sense you get after having seen stuff like that. I felt that way with Mud, too. I had this notion of what a classic American film was. I couldn’t tell you one specifically, but I can tell you a combination of several. Cool Hand Luke, The Getaway…I kind of wanted it to feel like some of the things I felt during those movies.

Midnight Special applies to that. So many people try to make these one-to-one analogies with these films, especially with the endings and other things. Those are kind of lost on me. That’s not how I thought about them. I just thought about the essence of those films.

Hitchcock’s movies were driven by his personal fears. Would you say you’re the same?
Absolutely. One hundred percent. The interesting thing about Hitchcock is that he chose fear as a predominant format to work in, which makes sense because that’s best for directors.

How so?
The feeling of fear is most directly linked to the toolbox that a director has to work with. This shot plus this shot equals this feeling. This music here, this framing here. I’m not going to give you much lead space in front of your eyes, and that’s going to freak people out. It’s different in comedy or drama…they’re not really genres. They’re these feelings. Fear most directly relates most to what a director does. I approach it a little differently. Definitely in Take Shelter, there are some scary moments, and they’re intended to be scary. I was getting to use that toolbox. I approach fear more from the standpoint of a writer. I use fear as a catalyst. Fear makes for a scary scene—“This is going to be a scary moment”—that’s what I’m talking about with Hitchcock. What I’m talking about as a writer…fear is a catalyst for a bigger idea. It’s a catalyst for the thought that you’re trying to convey to the audience, which for me is always an emotion—it’s not a story. It’s not plot. It’s not, “I’m going to tell you a story about what happened to a guy.” It’s, “I’m going to tell you a story about how a guy feels.”

Fear is a great place to start from. Fear is what motivates us as humans to get out and gather the food and build the shelter. It’s like a foundational element of humanity. But fear is only a catalyst. For instance, this film is about the fear of losing my son. That brings up a lot of emotions and other things, but that’s not a thought in and of itself. I can’t just make a movie about a guy afraid of losing his son. What does he do with that? What’s he trying to do with that fear? I think that forced me to think about the actual nature of parenthood. What are we trying to do? We’re trying to, I think, define for ourselves who our children are, in the purest way we possibly can. Sometimes, our own point of view gets in the way and we project that onto our kids. But I think, really, we’re terrified of losing them, so we’re going to try to figure out who they are to try to help them. Help them become the ones who manifest their own destiny. We have no control over that destiny. We have no control over who they become. At best, we can try to help them realize who they are and help them become that.

That became a thought. Fear produced that thought, which became the backbone for this movie. In Take Shelter, I was afraid of the world falling apart. I was afraid of not being a good provider for my family, or an adult, or a good husband. I was afraid of all those things, and there was a bunch of anxiety that came from that. But that’s not what that movie’s about—that movie’s about communicating in marriage. That movie’s about the foundational principles of marriage, which I think is communication. That’s why I made the daughter deaf. I think, in order to get that, I needed to have fear. Shotgun Stories is about the fear of losing one of my brothers. But ultimately that’s not what the movie’s about. It’s about the fruitlessness of revenge, a revenge that was born out of that fear.

I think there’s a huge misunderstanding among moviegoers in this country. People are obsessed with plot. That’s how they critique movies—solely on the plot! From the stunning opening of this movie, it’s clear you’re not interested in exposition. This is cinema, that’s it. We’re dealing with emotions, images, and sound. I wish more people appreciated that. I think maybe they do, subconsciously.
Maybe they do, you know? It depends on what people want out of a film. At different times you want different things. A lot of people—and I’m this audience sometimes—want escapism. Look at the way people use score. Score, even more than expositional dialogue, is the way to telegraph a pass, like in basketball. You never telegraph a pass—you never want the defense to know where you’re looking, because they’ll know where you’re going to throw the ball and then they’ll steal it. You can telegraph so much by having two characters speak, and then you put this music underneath it. Everybody knows they’re supposed to be scared, or they’re supposed to be happy, or they’re supposed to be sad. When you remove score, which I mostly did in Shotgun Stories, it’s very offputting to people. All of a sudden, they’re having to judge a scene on its own merits, not on this feeling that you’re giving them. They actually have to start listening. That’s just an example of my broader approach: If you remove certain things, people have to listen.

Some people don’t want that experience when they go to the theater, and that’s okay. I’ll catch you the next time, or maybe I’ll catch you on a Sunday night, when you’ve got a little more free time. It’s my job, though, to try and understand the nature of how people receive stories. It’s natural to search for plot. That’s how our brains work. I don’t hold it against anybody, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to challenge them through a new type of organization of information. Because that’s all it is—you’re just organizing information in a certain way so that it lands at certain times. My movies have plot. I just don’t think it’s the going concern. I think writers are so concerned sometimes with just making things clear.

I know that studios are. They test these things to make sure that no stone is unturned and that people are getting what they want. But what people want isn’t always what they need. I’m fascinated by story dynamics. I’m fascinated by what works for an audience and what doesn’t, what keeps them engaged and what doesn’t. If you’re not working on the edge of all that, you’re never going to have a situation where someone says, “My nails were dug into the edge of my chair,” and one person writes, “This movie is boring as hell.” I have to be okay with both of those responses. I don’t think I could get either if I was just trying to walk down the middle of the road.

About the opening, again, which I love so much…
I think it’s the best opening I’ll ever do.

Some people might consider it disorienting, but I think, for this story, you get exactly the amount of information you need.
What’s funny for me is, I think it’s so obvious. I’m wondering, like, will people just know that, once he picks the boy up into his arms in the hotel room, that obviously he’s not a kidnapper? Yes, they do, but since it hasn’t been so specifically told to them, they feel it, but they don’t know it yet. That’s a really great place to be. To me, it’s just so obvious. “That mystery’s solved.” But it’s not yet. It’s not totally solved. I have this line of Sam Shepard revealing, “The birth father, Roy Tomlin.” I wrote that scene specifically to be a surprise to the FBI, because they haven’t had the ranch under surveillance long enough to know that he was the birth father. The thing I’m wondering is, is it a surprise to the audience? That’s what I [mean] when I talk about narrative mechanics. I’m just so fascinated. When did you know? Here’s when I tell you, or here’s where I specifically don’t tell you.

Obviously, Joel Edgerton’s profession in the film—that was really specific. I remember giving [the script] to this young girl who was going to be a PA on our film. I gave her the script, and maybe she wasn’t the sharpest tack in the drawer, but she read it and just so clearly was like, “You have to tell us sooner that he’s a state trooper. We need to know that because I was really turned off when he did what he did at the end of the film. If I had known that, I’d have felt a lot better about his character a lot sooner.” She was so earnest in her argument. But it’s like, don’t you understand that you having all these emotions is part of the process? It’s part of the story. It just made me smile, and she probably thought I was a dickhead.

Joel gives you so much.
He’s a great actor.

In that scene in particular, he tells you what you need to know in how he behaves.
There you go! I thought it was pretty obvious. He walks over to the fallen state trooper and speaks in a way that no normal person would speak on the police radio. I was like, well, I’m just letting people know there. That’s what his character would do. A bad version of that writing would be [for him] to go over and say, “Hey, hey, there’s a police officer shot.” That wouldn’t be honest to him either. He wants that guy to get help. That’s why he goes and does it. He did not want to go shoot that guy. You could have Jeff Nichols the writer brain go, “If I have him speak that way, I’ll show my cards too soon.” But that’s as dishonest as having him explain that he’s a state trooper. Both of those things are dishonest. My fear for this movie…any shortcoming is when I might have been to purposefully ambiguous in a scene. I’ve read that critique, and I’ve gone back in and I’ve looked at it, and I don’t know. I’ve been able to reason out why they would behave that way. Point being, character behavior trumps all narrative desire.

I paint myself into corners all the time. It’s like, okay, I have this very strict rule about character behavior and dialogue, but I need this piece of information in the movie. It’s my job to craft a scene that allows that piece of information to come through, or we don’t get it. Then I deal with that consequence. It’s like an austerity to the writing you have to apply. You really have to stick to it. You really do.

Kirsten Dunst’s character is one of my favorite motherly characters in a while. You don’t see this stuff often. Without spoiling anything, the things she does, the way she reacts to things—it feels authentic, it feels real.
I think she’s the strongest character in the film. I think she’s able to do something the male characters can’t, specifically Michael Shannon’s. I’m not just saying this to gain the pro-women’s lib lobby. Watching my son be born and what my wife did and then what she did the year that followed…there’s no doubt in my mind that women are the stronger sex in terms of fortitude and emotions. I was very struck in high school when I read A Doll’s House by Ibsen. It’s about a mother that leaves her children. I came from a home where that would not be possible. But it is possible. That’s why the mother in Shotgun Stories hates her children. She blames them for her place in life. Their existence lowered her, in her mind. I was fascinated by the idea that there could be a mother character that would come to the conclusion first of what the inevitability of parenthood is. It made sense to me that a mother would be the one to understand the cycle of parenthood before the father, who has undeniably committed his entire life to the safety of his boy. It takes the mother to realize the cycle that they’re a part of.

I don’t think Michael’s character understands it fully or is willing to accept it fully until the boy gets out of the car. I think it’s important, but it’s also a big narrative risk. You’ve built this father-son story, the mother doesn’t come in for the first thirty minutes, and she’s tangential. Then you do this physical handoff where she’s the one who physically represents their position to their child at the end of the film. I had no idea if it would work, and for some people, I’m sure it doesn’t. I reason out, character-wise, why it would work out that way. Like I said, she’s the stronger of the two. I’m glad to hear you say you like her…because I like her.

That moment you mention where the boy gets out of the car broke my heart.
Good! That’s the one. David Fincher talks about how every movie should have an emotional punch in the gut. That was mine. I have one in each of my films. I’m glad you liked it.

Sevier (Adam Driver) is great, too.
Adam Driver is, in my opinion, going to be one of the most important actors of our generation, irrelevant of Star Wars. I think he’s that good. He’s that interesting. I want to make a detective movie with him really badly.

Why a detective movie?
Because I want to make a detective movie.

[laughs]
Because I’m a huge fan of Fletch. I just want to make a private eye movie.

There’s no away around it, and it pains me to believe it considering how big a fan I am of his previous films, but Jeff Nichols‘ much-anticipated Midnight Special is a disappointment. How a film that packs so much promise with its director, cast, and synopsis can leave such a flat impression is something that I’ll be mulling over during Berlinale and beyond. A story of a close-knit family with a boy who’s got special powers, on the run from a religious cult and the government, pulsates with potential. But not even the commanding Michael Shannon can save this film from being Nichols’ first major misfire.

As most disappointments often do, things start off so well. With zero exposition, we’re thrust into the action of Ray (Shannon) and Lucas (Joel Edgerton, at his understated best here) on-the-run with 8-year-old Alton (Jaeden Lieberher) and before the brilliant title sequence even comes up, we’ve already got a hundred questions. Why is the young lad wearing goggles? Who are these men? Why is the government, who is making this national news, after them? The mystery is instantly gripping, and even more so once the Ranch—a cult that believes Alton’s words are gospel—gets involved. They want him because they believe he’s their savior, the FBI and the NSA are after him because they think he’s a weapon, and all Roy wants to do is bring him back to his mother (Kirsten Dunst) and make sure he’s where he’s got to be on Friday, March 6th, a.k.a. Judgement Day. Oh, and the boy speaks in tongues, has telepathic connections with radio signals, and shoots blue light from his eyes.

Basically, you’d have to check your pulse if you weren’t totally sucked in by the halfway mark. But as the mystery begins to unravel further, delusions of grandeur set in. The big mystery, all those gripping question marks, amount to one big “OK, that’s it?” shrug by the end. Adam Stone’s cinematography is excellent, the performances are predictably stellar, Nichols expertly directs a couple of stand-out sequences, but the story gets lost in a vague haze of questionable decisions and a final climax utterly deflated of the emotional oomph it’s supposed to have. It has its grand familial Spielbergian flourishes, but Midnight Special ends up being disappointingly ordinary and surprisingly forgettable.

Rating:
6.5/10

After an impressive first season, that not only drew from its 1996 film origin but added elaborate depth and sustained an intriguing and comedic noir, FX’s Fargo is finally giving us an in-depth glimpse at season two.

A few things we already knew: Season two is set in 1979 in Luverne, MN and Sioux Falls, SD (a town near and dear to this website) and revolves around a case mentioned a few times in the first season. Following their established knack for an elaborate and well-rounded ensemble, the faces featured in season two’s trailer show just what a punch this next season is likely to pack. Patrick Wilson and Ted Danson are the lead law enforcement characters, trying to solve a murder that appears to include connections with what amounts to the perfect Hollywood Midwestern barbeque guest list: Jean Smart, Kieran Culkin, Nick Offerman, Jesse Plemons, Kirsten Dunst, Bokeem Woodbine, Jeffrey Donovan, Cristin Milioti and we didn’t even get a glimpse of Bruce Campbell yet!

The ’70s references are abundant, starting off with a Watergate joke and tying in with Dunst’s character showing an interest in ’70s cult-like New Age training program, Lifespring. Dunst always did look pretty great with feathered hair.

The trailer is plenty promising with what looks like all the same dark humor and as much if not more of the twisty murder mystery we came to crave from season one. The only downside? Because FX took their time renewing the show after season one, we have to wait until October before we get to watch. But with all that snow, it might just make for a more fitting viewing experience.

Best known for writing Nicholas Winding Refn’s Drive, Hossein Amini makes his directorial debut with the ’60s noir-ish throwback, The Two Faces of January, based on the novel by Patricia Highsmith. Set in Greece in 1962, the film follows a vacationing American couple, Chester (Viggo Mortensen) and his wife Colette (Kirsten Dunst), who get intwined with a small-time conman named Rydal (Oscar Isaac) when he witnesses Chester committing a deadly crime at their hotel. Rydal offers to help the couple flee to Athens, and as the three evade the authorities on the streets, Chester is forced to compete with the younger Rydal for his wife’s affections.

In media roundtable interview conducted at this year’s San Francisco International Film Festival, we spoke to Hossein about the film’s ’60s influences, his attraction to weakness in characters, Highsmith’s fascination with male competition, silent storytelling, the film’s period set and costume design, and more.

The Two Faces of January is out this Friday in San Francisco.

Your film resembles a lot of suspense noirs from the ’60s. What were some of your inspirations?
Hossein: I’m a total film nut, and I love film noir, so I couldn’t wait to get to Turkey to shoot that. I wanted to, in a way, recreate that period of [’60s cinema]. It was important to not be too contemporary with the camera moves. It was such a novel period in filmmaking, with the French New Wave and Italian cinema. I watched a lot of European movies from that time. But I always go back to ’40s and ’50s American film noir, because that was my first real movie passion. I remember seeing Kiss Me Deadly on the big screen, and it blew me away. It was the first time I fell in love with movies. Hitchcock is an influence as well. The French talk about a “film soleil” as opposed to a film noir, which is a film noir shot in the sunshine. I kind of love it. It’s that idea of oppressive heat and dust in these landscapes.

Did you feel that the more rugged landscapes revealed the real nature of the characters?
Hossein: That was absolutely the intention. We wanted to start off [Viggo] with this beautiful suit, and [Kirsten] with this dress, and gradually, as those layers are stripped off, it starts to reveal who they are. I remember liking those characters as I read the book. They’re so fragile, and I think it’s rare when you get movie characters who are weak. We make films about bad people or villains, but I think villains that are actually human are rare. I know how difficult that is; we did test screenings and the audience said, “I don’t have anyone to root for.”

I have to accept that, but I think that’s what makes [Patricia] such a great writer. She just strips these characters naked. She’s kind of cruel and compassionate to them as a writer, and that’s something I capture in the movie. I like Chester. I don’t know what other people think, but he was the character when I read the book that really made me want to do this. I felt he was jealous and drunk–all these weak human qualities–and yet there are sometimes moments of dignity.

Talk about the challenge of being an homage to those films without becoming “retro”.
Hossein: It is a fine line. Some people do find it goes too far into the Hitchcock pastiche, which wasn’t intentional. The characters are so modern; that would be my defense of what makes it contemporary. [Patricia] was so ahead of her time in that her characters change so quickly from being kind to cruel, from vicious to suddenly having remorse. It doesn’t happen in scenes; it happens almost within moments. One example is when they’re all sitting around at dinner and there’s dancing going on. Rydal is flirting with Colette, and then he remembers her husband is there, and he’s almost apologetic. That’s something about her writing that I found…it’s almost how I behave. That doesn’t say particularly good things about me, but I can suddenly be mean to my wife and feel terrible about it the very next moment. She captures this very modern psychology.

There’s a big father-son theme in the film.
Hossein: When I read the book I thought, what does The Two Faces of January mean? One is the idea of the god, Janus, that has got the two heads facing outwards. I thought it was interesting, because no matter how much [Chester and Rydal] hate each other, they’re twins, and they’re tied together. Also, it’s about the new replacing the old. Back in early times, the son would have to kill the father in order to become a man. There’s something about the sense of competition and admiration going together between a younger man and an older man. Highsmith is so fascinated with the relationships between men. I think she’s much more interested in that. In Ripley, she gets rid of Marge fairly quickly. The father-son thing is a way for her to show a love story and a hate story between men.

A lot of the storytelling in your film is told through the actors’ eyes. Some of the most significant scenes are silent.
Hossein: As a screenwriter, I’ve always felt the dialogue is there to set up those silences. It’s about the space between the lines. If you have a scene where a woman is on the phone with her lover, and then she goes to her husband and talks about the weather, it can be the most moving, powerful scene. The dialogue is irrelevant, really; it’s the subtext and the looks between them. In marriage scenes, the couple rarely talks about the problem, but the undercurrent is always there. I think that’s what I love about movies–the close-ups, the silences, the way you feel people’s pain. Quite often, we’d cut to who’s not talking in those three-way conversations, because I think that’s where the drama is.

I struggle so much with dialogue as a writer. I find it very hard to write. If I could write like Tarantino, I’m sure I’d be huge! [laughs] I find silent storytelling more interesting than people saying what they actually think.

Are you angling for a silent picture next?
Hossein: One of my favorite directors, [Jean-Pierre] Melville, who did Le Samorai and Le Cercle Rouge…there’s almost no dialogue in those.

Colette sort of fades into the background about halfway through the film. How does this compare to the book?
Hossein: The book has that thing of her disappearing from the picture. That was always there. When I wrote the script, I thought I needed to make it more of a triangle, and we shot it like that. In the book, it isn’t; Highsmith isn’t that interested in her. When I was editing with the editor, and when we test screened it, we found that Highsmith’s DNA came back to reclaim [the film]. People were more interested in the relationship between the men, the same way as an author she had been. We felt after a while that going back to the book and making her the catalyst and object of competition for the men [is better]. Kirsten resists that kind of thing, but I do think that her part was a struggle than the movie. She was better than the part, I think, and we both struggled to make that part better. But in the editing, the shape of the movie pushed it to her being watched as opposed to being in the center.

Talk a bit about the set and costume design. That must have been a fun experience to watch that come together.
Hossein: As a writer, my favorite thing about writing a script is the research. We went through a lot of ’60s photographs, which you can find on the web. It’s amazing, just home photos of people from that period. Then there are the movies from that period, like Alain Delon wearing a white suit. What I liked about directing for the first time was that everyone knows what they do so much better than you do, and it’s fantastic to watch how good other people are. If you let them, people really want to help you. I wonder if that happens on the second or third film, because maybe people step back. But here, being open to that was really helpful.

The Los Angeles Film Festival continued its Gala screenings Tuesday with The Two Faces of January. First time director Hossein Amini has proven he understands the art of calculated and slow-building periodic drama as the screenwriter of subdued gems The Wings of the Dove and Jude. He’s even proven he can handle drama of a more fast-paced nature with his script for 2011’s Drive. But Amini’s directorial début seems to hint at a possible film truth — that perhaps writing talent and directorial talent come from two different places.

Set in Greece in 1962, The Two Faces of January is based on the Patricia Highsmith novel of the same name. She who gave us the inspiration for similar film adaptations The Talented Mr. Ripley and Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train. Highsmith weaves thrillers involving characters that fall into one of two categories: those who have and those who covet. The Two Faces of January is no exception, telling the tale of American couple Chester and Colette MacFarland (Viggo Mortenson and Kirsten Dunst) on vacation in Greece, both the epitome of American wealth and refinement. The two catch the eye of part-time tour guide and sometime swindler Rydal (Oscar Isaac), an American who has been living in Greece, avoiding his family to the point of missing his own father’s funeral.

After catching Rydal staring at them, Colette investigates and Rydal charms them into an outing at the flea market, and later dinner. Enamored with the young Colette, and clearly in awe of the stylish Chester, Rydal rushes to return a bracelet Colette left in the taxi after their evening out. When he gets to the hotel he finds Chester in a precarious position involving an unconscious man. From there Rydal’s ambition and daddy issues pull him into the mounting troubles of Chester and Colette, while his increasing attraction to Colette forces him to travel into darker and darker territory to protect them.

Amini, while clearly capable of writing great characters, falters somewhat in getting his actors to help push the story along. The tacit tension between the three of them is certainly evident in their spectacular performances, however the film’s pacing is lacking, each of their misery only adding to the heap and not building off one another. Viggo Mortenson has made a believable transition from the smoldering heroes he’s played in the past, to an older cocksure man of leisure. Oscar Isaac continues to be the best part of almost every movie I’ve seen him in of late (even the recent and truly stunted In Secret, another film of wasted performances), his chiseled face and hungry expressions always conveying his lust for the sort of life he thinks he wants. Kirsten Dunst seems to be the deficient element, though not likely by any fault of her own as she’s given us plenty of remarkable performances over the years. Instead Amini underutilizes Dunst’s character, rather than allow the story to flow from her anchor as the strongest link between the three of them. As a result, Rydal’s infatuation seems unwarranted, Chester’s growing jealousy equally so.

With a distinctly classic feel, the soft lighting and bright colors of Greece are a stark contrast to the darker moments of vulnerability and madness woven through the few days the film covers. Cinematographer Marcel Zyskind (Dancer in the Dark) could hardly make the exotic locales of the film look anything but beautiful. Amini’s ambitions are clear, often utilizing distinctly Hitchcockian motifs. A closing foot chase scene through the pebbled streets of Istanbul could have been pulled straight out of a 50’s black and white film-noir. Steven Noble’s costume design is distractingly sophisticated. Clearly Amini has all the pieces: the looks, the feel, the music, the actors, but where he seems to falter is where Hitchcock most excelled — delving into the psychology of his characters.  Where Hitchcock would dig deeper, Amini has only given us surface level and thus being truly invested in their collective fate is rather hard to muster. The story plays out melodramatically, instead of thrillingly.

Leveraging nostalgia and star power, the film is enticing even as it makes one hungry to put on an older classic. He may not yet be a writer-director double-threat, but this is an elegant first film from Hossein Amini.

It was a packed house at the Castro Theater in San Francisco last night for Opening Night of the 57th annual San Francisco International Film Festival. I should know–I had to sit in the nosebleeds! (It’s that damn SF parking. 2 hour limits can suck a…never mind.) Despite my undesirable vantage point of the beautiful silent era theater, I was excited, as there was a definite buzz in the air for the SFIFF faithful, many of whom are members of the San Francisco Film Society (SFFS), the organization responsible for making the festival happen in addition to their other remarkable contributions to the national film community.

When Noah Cowan–an accomplished veteran of the Toronto International Film Festival and newly appointed executive director of SFFS–took to the podium to kick off the festival, a thrilling rush of applause practically blew his hair back. The San Francisco film community was saddened when Ted Hope stepped down from the position just recently, but when SFFS named Cowan as the new head honcho, overseeing SFIFF as his first major task, we couldn’t have been more happy. His inaugural address felt like a new beginning for the festival, and he felt the love. “Thank you for the warm San Francisco greeting,” he said with a humble grin. Needless to say, we Bay Area residents look forward to a bright future for the festival, and to Cowan we give our full support.

The reality is, however, that Cowen’s only been in town for about six weeks. We owe this year’s incredible festival lineup to Rachel Rosen, SFFS’s Director of Programming, and her team. Rosen stepped onstage next to Cowan, I got goosebumps at the thought of what the two will accomplish together in years to come.

Following the festival introductions, director-screenwriter Hossein Amini (he wrote Drive) stepped on stage to introduce his film, The Two Faces of January, an adaptation of a novel by Patricia Highsmith (other adaptations of her books include The Talented Mr. Ripley and Ripley’s Game). A throwback to ’60s murder romances like Hitchcock’s most touristic pictures, the film is set in 1962, following Chester and Colette (Viggo Mortensen and Kirsten Dunst), an American couple vacationing in Athens who meet a swindling tour guide named Rydal (Oscar Isaac). Rydal gets caught up in a sticky predicament with the couple when he becomes a witness to a fatal hotel room accident, and the three attempt to flee the country before the police can sniff them out.

Amini exhibits old-fashioned cinematic style, riffing on tried-and-true noir, love triangle, and suspense machinations to entertaining effect. Isaac, Dunst, and Mortensen are game performers, and they all have natural chemistry with one another. Most engaging is Mortensen and Isaac’s relationship, which sits somewhere between a testosterone-driven rivalry and a father-son companionship. Dunst’s role lacks the same depth. The cinematography by Marcel Zyskind is clean and crisp, and picturesque, but the score by Alberto Iglesias emulates the great Bernard Hermann too closely. The film pays homage to a specific era in cinema without feeling retro, which is its greatest accomplishment. It’s greatest disappointment is that it doesn’t insert itself as a formidable entry into the sub-genres it evokes, a feat proven possible by gems like Shaun of the Dead and The Artist.

For more SFIFF57 coverage, stay tuned to Way Too Indie.

Tomorrow night, the 57th annual San Francisco International Film Festival (April 24-May 8) kicks off its program of 168 films representing 56 countries. Seeing every film in that span of time is a veritable impossibility (though San Francisco is full of sun-depraved cine-maniacs ready to jump at the challenge), so we’re going to take a look at some of the highlights in the festival’s catalog for anyone planning on hopping over to the Bay Area and joining in on the fun.

Opening up the festival tomorrow night at the Castro Theater is Hossein Amini’s The Two Faces of January, a Greece-set suspense thriller starring Kirsten Dunst and Viggo Mortensen, an American couple on holiday who find themselves inextricably linked to a shifty tour guide (Oscar Isaac) after a fatal accident in a hotel room forces them to frantically find a way out of the country. Evoking Hitchcock’s touristic action-romance romps, the film should send the festival on its way nicely.

Speaking of being on holiday, Michael Winterbottom’s The Trip to Italy (pictured above) looks to walk on the lighter side of vacationing. A sequel to 2011’s The Trip, the film stars English funnymen Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon playing inflated versions of themselves as they, like in the first film, take a culinary tour of expensive restaurants, making each other chuckle along the way with improvised chatter and–of course–spot-on Michael Caine impressions.

On the darker side of traveling lies Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter, about a sociopath Japanese office assistant who flies to Fargo, North Dakota in search of a buried treasure she glimpsed in the famous Coen Brothers movie. For some reason, she believes a suitcase full of money buried in the snow by Steve Buscemi in a fictional movie exists in real life…and that totally piques my interest for some reason…

The film that’s got me frothing in anticipation more than any other is Night Moves (pictured above), by ridiculously talented writer/director Kelly Reichardt (Meek’s Cutoff, Wendy and Lucy). It’s a safe bet that, like her previous films, we’ll be treated to a smorgasbord of deliciously cinematic imagery to support a wholly unique script (set, as in all her previous efforts, in Oregon). The political thriller stars Jesse Eisenberg and Dakota Fanning as environmentalist lovebirds who, with marine veteran Peter Sarsgaard, hatch a plan to blow up a dam. This one looks to be a less contemplative and more narrative-driven movie than we’re used to seeing from Reichardt, which excites me to no end.

The fest’s centerpiece presentation is the Bay Area-set teenage drama Palo Alto, directed by Gia Coppola and starring Emma Roberts, James Franco, and Jack Kilmer. Based on a book of short stories written by Franco about his experience growing up in the titular Bay Area community, the film aims to be a more authentic take on teenage life than your typical high school drama, casting appropriately-aged actors in all roles and eschewing tropes like stereotypical clique dynamics.

Richard Linklater is set to receive the Founder’s Directing Award at SFIFF, and he’s bringing Boyhood, his much buzzed-about coming-of-age movie, along with him. We’ve all heard by now that the film is pretty good and that it took  an unprecedented 12 years to make, which is reason enough to check out the film at the festival, but sweetening the deal is that a career highlight reel of the indie pioneer will also be shown, and Linklater will participate in an on-stage interview. Doesn’t get much cooler than that!

There are two films with the word “Summer” in the title playing at the festival, but seriously, they couldn’t be any more different. Stanley Nelson (Freedom Riders) chronicles the rise of the Civil Rights movement in his powerful documentary Freedom Summer, focusing on the significant, eruptive events in Mississippi in the summer of 1964. Director Michael Tully’s nostalgia comedy Ping Pong Summer (pictured above), set in a 1985 Maryland beach town, follows 13-year-old Rad Miracle (Marcello Conte) as a simple family vacation turns into one of the most memorable summers of his life.

Closing out the festival is actor-turned-director Chris Messina’s Alex of Venice, starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead as the titular workaholic attorney, whose negligence of her family drives her husband (Messina) to walk out of their lives. As Alex’s strictly organized life begins to spiral out of control, she scrambles to restore some semblance of order, in the process discovering what’s truly important to her. The film also stars Don Johnson as Winstead’s father in a standout role.

For more information and ticketing info, visit sffs.org

Today, the San Francisco Film Society (and its new executive director Noah Cowan) announced the full lineup for the 57th annual San Francisco International Film Festival, running from April 24-May 8. Consisting of 169 films from 56 countries, the festival looks to present a broad selection of both domestic and world cinema features. 200 filmmakers and special guests are expected to attend.

Opening up the festival will be Hossein Amini’s The Two Faces of January, a Greece-set suspense-thriller starring Viggo Mortensen, Kirsten Dunst, and Oscar Isaac. Gia Coppola’s Palo Alto will serve as the fest’s Centerpiece Film, while actor Chris Messina’s directorial debut Alex of Venice, starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Don Johnson, will wrap up the festival’s 15-day run.

Receiving awards at this year’s festival will be Pixar’s John Lasseter (2014 George Gund Craft III of Cinema Award), Richard Linklater (Founders Directing Award), screenwriter Stephen Gaghan (Kanbar Award), and film historian David Thomson (Mel Novikoff Award), with more to be announced.

Some standouts: Kelly Reichardt’s (Meek’s Cutoff) environmental activist drama Night Moves starring Jesse Eisenberg, Dakota Fanning, and Peter Sarsgaard, looks to be another excellent entry into the acclaimed indie filmmaker’s oeuvre;  The Skeleton Twins, a sibling drama starring SNL favorites Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader, who will be in attendance at the fest; Young & Beautiful, a drama from Francois Ozon (Swimming Pool) billed as “a portrait in four seasons and four songs”; and Boyhood, Linklater’s unprecedented coming-of-age story filmed over 12 years.

For the full schedule, check out sffs.org

The 57th Annual San Francisco International Film Festival, which runs from April 24-May 8, has announced its opening night film as The Two Faces of January, starring Oscar Isaac, Viggo Mortensen and Kirsten Dunst, which will be making it’s North American premiere at the fest. Closing out the festival will be Alex of Venice, the directorial debut of actor Chris Messina starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Don Johnson.

“We are delighted to offer these exceptional films by first-time directors who are best known for their work in other areas of the film world,” said San Francisco Film Society Executive Director Noah Cowan. “Championing talented artists who aren’t afraid of taking risks is at the heart of the Film Society’s mission and our ongoing support of filmmakers around the world. I can’t think of a better pair of films to kick off and wrap up what is going to be an amazing festival.”

The Two Faces of January (above) marks a directorial debut as well, in this caseof screenwriter Hossein Amini (Drive). Set in Greece, the thriller sees Viggo Mortensen and Kirsten Dunst play a couple who fall into a dangerous dilemma with an Athens tour guide (Oscar Isaac) following a murderous incident at their hotel.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead stars in Chris Messina’s Alex of Venice as a workaholic environmental lawyer whose husband (Messina) is fed up with being a stay-at-home father and decides to stay elsewhere. Winstead is left at home with her son and actor father (Don Johnson) and is forced to hold the family together all by herself.

For more festival info, visit sffs.org

I will begin by saying, this is a must see film; an absolute must see film. If you’re confused by my recommendation on your first viewing of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, then watch it again, but this time – really see it. Follow every line, and understand every visual, take it all in and let the film run away with your mind. Eternal Sunshine is without a doubt an extremely polished film that delivers on all fronts; it ticks all the boxes.

The storyline is complex and totally far fetched, but is utterly unique and something very beautiful. Joel Parish (Jim Carrey) is an ordinary guy with an ordinary existence. When we’re first introduced to his character he starts the day off with the aim of going to work, but whilst waiting for the train, something out of the ordinary happens to Joel; he runs across the platform and jumps on a train to Montauk – a completely spontaneous act. Whilst Joel walks across Montauk beach he sees a girl with an orange sweatshirt on, also walking along the sand. Clementine Kruczynski (Kate Winslet) introduces herself on the train and that is where their story begins or so you would believe.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is anything but ordinary. The film takes you down so many different visual paths that you find it difficult to place each scene. You find yourself understanding Joel’s anger towards what has happened in his life but you also feel the pain of his past when he’s confronted by his memories. Early on Joel decides to undergo a ‘new-age’ therapy that will eliminate all the memories that cause him pain and betrayal he felt during his relationship with Clementine; we find out soon enough that he regrets this decision.

Clementine is a character that can be defined by her own words “Too many guys think I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a fucked-up girl who’s lookin’ for my own peace of mind; don’t assign me yours.” This speech she gives to Joel is one of the most realistic and direct definition of what women like Clementine are portrayed as through film. She doesn’t pretend to be another ‘Ruby Sparks’ or ‘Allison’ (from Yes Man! also starring Jim Carrey) – she isn’t the girl that breathes life back into the empty chests of men without colour or direction to the world they live in. Clementine is simply a girl who makes mistakes and is looking for some direction of her own.

Opposites surely do attract in Eternal Sunshine. Joel is “boring” and Clementine, “impulsive” – quite a clash in terms of the chemistry within a relationship. Due to their conflicting personalities, harsh realisations are made apparent and the couple are left to deal with the emotions that are brought to the surface. During the course of the film we get to see both sides of their relationship through various memories Joel is reliving. Through this we get to see the good, the bad and the downright ugly; yet when their relationship is good, it’s beautiful. A memorable scene that demonstrates this is when Clementine describes a deep rooted childhood memory to Joel, from where she first decided she was ugly; Joel begins kissing her and tells her she’s pretty over and over again until they fade into a new memory. With fantastic use of cinematography, the director (Michel Gondry) and the DOP (Ellen Kuras) produced phenomenal shots and scenes (including the one just described) by using light, colour and intense intimacy between the subjects, they bought to life the powerful emotion of each memory. This is outstanding filmmaking.

This said, I must also give credit to Carrey and Winslet for their performances as both were out of their comfort zones. Carrey, more known for his humour and comedic roles and Winslet for her super serious Britishness – both delivered fresh and very realistic portrayals of what two people in a dysfunctional relationship are like and how they survive through the love and understanding they share for one and other. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a breath of fresh air when it comes to on screen romance and I rate it highly among the films I adore.

Lars von Trier, the Danish controversial out-spoken director, delivers his least controversial film of his career, Melancholia. The film centers around two sisters who are both psychologically ill and must deal with the tragedy that world will end when a rogue planet named Melancholia approaches Earth. It is one of the most captivating opening sequences of the year and will instantly get you hooked. But it is an art-house type of film that demands patience from the audience for most of it’s duration.

Melancholia is divided into two parts; the first part is called “Justine”. Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and her newly wedded husband Michael (Alexander Skarsgard) show up two hours late for their own wedding reception. As they are about to enter the reception, they notice an unusually bright red star in the sky and take the time to admire it despite already being so late. You can tell that something is bothering Justine, as she disappears throughout the reception to be by herself. Justine acts as if she is going to fall asleep on more than a couple occasions and at one point takes a bath instead of cutting the cake.

At the halfway point of the film, there is not a whole lot we know about Justine yet. The plot also does not advance a whole lot in the first hour. Still, the film does not lose your attention as you get a sense that it is building up to something. It feels like the film was almost shot in reverse as we are shown the characters in action before knowing anything about them, as it turns out that is what the second part is about.

The second part of the film called “Claire” and is in the point of view of Justine’s sister named, you guessed it, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). Suddenly, the film starts giving us more background on the characters and the story. The red star they mentioned at the beginning is in fact the planet Melancholia, which is supposed to pass by Earth in 5 days. At least that is what the scientists are saying; Claire is worried that they might be wrong.

Unless you were not paying attention, the opening sequence gave away the film. The planet does collide with Earth and the end of life as we know it is looming. But knowing that does not take away from the film, knowing that only adds to it. There are many transformations in the film but the most obvious one is the characters themselves.

It turns out that Justine is extremely depressed to the point of barely functional without Claire. Claire battles with her own illness with anxiety about Melancholia. Justine does not help with the anxiety when she tells Claire that “Life on Earth is evil” and there will not be much time left on it. As the planet approaches Justine seems to become more relaxed and normal than ever while Claire is basically switching roles with Justine. It is as if Justine is represented as Melancholia and Claire is represented as Earth, it may be stretch but the paths of destruction links them together.

Beginning shots of slow motion were captured fantastically and had a perfect score to go along with it (Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde). Showcasing people in their last moments before the plant Melancholia collided. We see lightning coming from Kristen Dunst’s finger tips and her laying in her wedding dress on water with her eyes closed. The beginning and ending scenes were phenomenally well shot and hard to forget.

Kirsten Dunst won Best Actress at this year’s Cannes Film Festival for her role of Justine. Dunst does an amazing job of playing an unhappy person who cannot deal with everyday normal activities but can deal with the world ending. Charlotte Gainsbourg (who worked with von Trier in Antichrist) does an equally impressive job with her supporting role as the supporting sister.

Melancholia is perhaps the best “end of the world” film as it does not try to sugarcoat anything or use a far-fetched sci-fi solution to magically resolve the impending doom. Instead, it shows us paths of destruction in multiple ways, psychologically through Justine’s character and physically with the planet Melancholia. While the beginning and ending scenes are brilliant, the middle section is so-so. At the very least, I think most people can agree it is an ambitious film that you can admire from a technical standpoint.

Cannes Film Festival came to a close Sunday night and announced the winners of Palme d’Or, Grand Prix, Best Director and other high status awards. Kirsten Dunst won Best Actress in Lars von Trier’s film Melancholia and thanked the director after a very controversial comment he made about Nazi’s during a press conference that caused a lot of media attention last week. The top prize, Palme d’Or, went out to The Tree of Life directed by Terrence Malick which stars Brad Pitt and Sean Penn.

See the full list of nominations.

The Tree of Life, (director Terrence Malick)

The Kid with a Bike, (directors Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne)
Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, (director Nuri Bilge Ceylan)

Nicolas Winding Refn, Drive

Joseph Cedar, Hearat Shulayim

Las Acacias, (director Pablo Gorgelli)

Polisse, (director Maiwenn)

Kirsten Dunst, Melancholia

Jean Dujarin, The Artist

Cross Country, (director Marina Viroda)

Arirang, (director Kim Ki-Duk)
Stopped on Track, (director Andreas Dresen)

Elena, (director Andrey Zvyaginstev)