Consolation Champs

The Heart Of The Game (USA, director Ward Serrill): A documentary about high-school basketball that took seven years to make, this film will be compared to Steve James’s Hoop Dreams, which is a high compliment indeed. But the films are different.

Serrill began following the girls’ basketball team at Seattle’s Roosevelt High School when they hired a new coach, tax law professor Bill Resler. Not expected to make much of an impact, Resler proceeded to build a powerhouse in his first year at the job. An eccentric but effective motivator, he chose a different “theme” for his team each year: Pack of Wolves, Pride of Lions, Tropical Storm, and then whipped his players into a frenzy. His motivational skills and his ruthless physical workouts gave the team the confidence and endurance to beat their opponents, even when they were bigger, taller, or more talented.

In his second year at the job, he noticed a young freshman by the name of Darnelia Russell. She stood out for a number of reasons. She had been an outstanding basketball player at her middle school. And she was black. At Roosevelt, in a privileged suburb of Seattle, black students were a minority, unlike at inner-city schools like arch-rival Garfield. In fact, when he tried to recruit her for his team, she rebuffed him at first, admitting to her friends that she wasn’t used to being around so many white people. Her presence at Roosevelt was the combined idea of her middle school coach and her mother, who wanted to keep her out of trouble and make sure she got an excellent education.

Her arrival helps Resler build Roosevelt into a city dynasty and a threat at the state championships. But there are ups and downs. And if you wonder why the film took seven years to make, Serrill admitted that he just filmed everything and waited for the story to emerge.

Although the film touches on a few issues of race and class, Serrill says he wanted to make it more about the basketball, and there are generous clips of games, even from major network coverage. Although it give the film much of its energy, I felt myself wishing there were a few more interviews with players, especially Darnelia, who emerges as a central character in the story. We never really get to know her as anything other than a great basketball player.

That being said, it’s a documentary about sports, so I’m predisposed to like it. There is real drama and excitement, both on and off the court, and it’s also good to see the contribution of people like Bill Resler recognized, a good man who is instilling not just a love of winning, but of playing, and living. As the credits rolled, it was endearing to see that a few of the songs were actually composed and played by Resler, on guitar and vocals, with director Serrill on harmonica. I’m giving this 8.5, even though my graphic doesn’t show half-points.

Film’s Web Site: http://www.heartofthegame.org

(8.5/10)

Bubble (USA, director Steven Soderbergh): Not quite sure how to write about this one. Bubble feels like a bit of an exercise for Soderbergh. First of all, it was shot in HD (high-definition) digital video, and this makes the visuals incredibly crisp. Secondly, it was filmed on location in a small Ohio town with a completely amateur cast. The script felt mostly improvised or situational, and actual dialogue is quite sparse.

This is a small and quiet film in which large themes play out over 90 minutes. The pace is very deliberate, and the atmosphere incredibly claustrophobic. The overriding theme for me seemed to be isolation and it was almost physically painful watching some of the characters go about their daily routines or listening to them try to connect with each other. These are people who seem completely inarticulate and unable to express their feelings. There is a sort of love triangle, and a murder, but that’s about all I can say.

Though the mannered acting and slow pace threw me off at first, once I got used to it, I appreciated the film a lot more. This is one of Soderbergh’s more experimental films, and he admitted after the screening that it would be “polarizing” for audiences. While the film is not entirely successful, I’m glad a director of his stature is still taking risks.

(7/10)

October 17, 1961 (Nuit Noire) (France, director Alain Tasma): Another gut-wrenching portrayal of some of the shameful events perpetrated during the Algerian war, this film is an important document of the legacy of French colonialism.

On the night of October 17, 1961, more than 20,000 Algerians gathered in Paris for a peaceful demonstration against French rule of their homeland. It wasn’t entirely spontaneous. In fact, the FLN (the main group advocating for Algerian independence) required all Algerian men to participate. It was to be a show of solidarity to bolster the ongoing negotiations between the FLN and the French government. Instead, it turned into a massacre. The police were already living in a climate of fear and repressed anger due to the ongoing campaign of random assassinations of police officers. And the police leadership were eager for a crackdown to avoid further humiliation. As the demonstrators gathered in various districts, police immediately moved in to arrest thousands, and after some confusing reports of being fired upon, themselves fired upon and then charged the crowds. There is no official report on the number of dead, but it was somewhere between 50 and 200. More than 40 years later, there has never been an official acknowledgement of the events of that night.

Noted television director Alain Tasma spent two years gathering evidence and reconstructing the events leading up to the massacre, and he presents a straightforward account that manages to capture the rising tension keenly. The film is a sort of parallel to the events portrayed in the classic film The Battle of Algiers, and Tasma owes a lot to the techniques and pacing of that forty-year-old masterpiece. With the exception of that film, most “issue” films rarely rise above their sense of moral outrage, and October 17, 1961 (more evocatively entitled “Nuit Noire” in its native France) is not a masterpiece. But it does capture the feeling of a time not so long ago, a feeling which is eerily present again in the rising Islamophobia of many Western democracies.

(8/10)

Thank You For Smoking (UK, director Jason Reitman): At the film festival a few years back, I saw an incredibly accomplished short film called In God We Trust, and I vowed that if young Jason Reitman (son of Canadian director Ivan Reitman) ever made a feature film, I’d run out and see it. I kept my promise, and Reitman delivers on his.

Aaron Eckhart is Nick Naylor, the tobacco industry’s spin doctor. He is very good at what he does, and manages to be likable while saying and doing despicable things. In this biting satire, Eckhart doesn’t really have any epiphanies, but he thinks he does. After an ill-advised affair with the reporter doing a profile on him, his secrets get out and he loses his job. But after a bravura performance at some Senate hearings, Big Tobacco wants him back. Claiming to have a “responsibility” to his young son, he refuses the job. Instead, by the end, he’s set himself up in business advising all sorts of other icky corporations.

The film is stuffed with very smart laughs, and I liked the fact that Nick emerges unrepentant at the end. It just sharpens the satire, that this man actually thinks he’s now a better person. The tone of the film reminded me quite a bit of Alexander Payne’s Election, though the comedy is much broader.

Reitman loses his deft touch slightly near the end of the film. Up to this point, no one has been seen actually smoking in the film. After a bizarre attempt on his life, Nick is told that he has to quit smoking. It’s a bit incongruous and it’s never mentioned again. I suspect that this is much funnier in the novel by Christopher Buckley on which the film is based.

I would definitely recommend this film, not only for its skewering of the tobacco industry (standing in for all corporations, really), but also for its jabs at Washington and Hollywood as well. No one is spared. You’ll even get to see Rob Lowe in a kimono!

(9/10)

Brothers Of The Head (UK, directors Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe): Based on a novella by science-fiction author Brian Aldiss, this film attempts to tell the story of Tom and Barry Howe, conjoined twins who are plucked from their family by an impresario in order to form a rock band.

Almost deliberately gimmicky, the film is also too clever by half (if you’ll pardon the pun). By mixing genres, styles and moods, the directors (whose previous film was the excellent documentary Lost In La Mancha) lose their way pretty quickly. I was never sure whether I was meant to take it all seriously or not. Flashbacks, dream sequences, it was all just a bit much. Plus, the promised rock and roll just didn’t move me. I was reminded a bit too much at times of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, a film I found original and moving. But in this case, the songs just weren’t as good, nor were the main characters sympathetic. A more unfavourable comparison would be the similarly disappointing Velvet Goldmine.

(4/10)