dir. Jacques Tati
Mon June 7, 7 pm, Cinerama.
A late-modernist fable about the dangers of modernization, Jacques Tati's Playtime is utterly unique in the history of cinema: It might be the weirdest movie that has ever made its way into the pantheon. Long, slow, and strange, nobody's known quite what to do with it. Tati was both a clown and an aesthete, and all his truly radical political and formal ideas were too gently presented to appeal to the intellectual crowd, while everyone else was just baffled. Until recently, Playtime was known more for the thoroughness with which it flopped than its considerable artistic merits. But it truly is one of the greatest movies ever made, an experience of pure bliss that cinema has never equaled. I don't want my praise to sound too extravagant, but this 1967 film, which I've now seen at least a half-dozen times, has been the source of more joy to me than just about any other object created by man. There's no real plot, and no real hero. Tati's beloved alter ego, Hulot, moves through the background, occasionally taking center stage, bewildered by the maze of modern conveniences that populate a bland, antiseptic Paris. American tourists breeze into town, visit an appliance show, and grab dinner before leaving the following morning. The gadgets seem to be the ones running the place, and one look at the human population would seem to indicate that the differences between man and machine are only skin deep. But Tati is an eternal optimist, and unlike Mon Oncle, which is a very angry movie disguised under some of the sweetest humor ever put on film, Playtime has accepted modernization's inevitable victory and the director concentrates on reinfusing his characters' colorless existence with a new sense of humanity. For Tati, humanity is messy, loud, and fun. ADAM HART
Hero
dir. Zhang Yimou
Sat June 5, 9:15 pm, Cinerama; Mon June 7, 4 pm, Cinerama.
Efforts of the Wu-Tang Clan aside, the classic old-school martial-arts movie has yet to receive a wholly satisfying and honorable revamp. The director of such intimate character pieces as Raise the Red Lantern and To Live may initially seem an odd choice to successfully rekindle the flaming swords and arrows of the genre, but from the opening frames he sells you: Hero melds modern wire-work effects with Yimou's own mastery of character to create an awesome chop-socky epic with an honestly moving emotional backbeat.
In feudal China, a nameless warrior (Jet Li) earns an audience with his assassination-obsessed emperor after disposing of the three greatest killers in the world. As his story unfolds, multiple levels of double-crosses, secret alliances, and just unbelievable ass kicking are revealed. Amidst all the carnage, Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung continue their patented style of wistful romance first perfected in In the Mood for Love.
While this could very well be the don't-miss film of the fest, it should be pointed out that Miramax, after inexplicably keeping it on the shelf for two years, has seen fit to remove 20 minutes of footage from the original cut, which may have made the flashback-heavy narrative seem less needlessly convoluted than it does in its present form. Thankfully, however shorn, spindled, or otherwise mutilated, Yimou's achievement still absolutely calls down the thunder. And arrows. Zillions and zillions of arrows. ANDREW WRIGHT
Tamala 2010: A Punk Cat in Space
dir. t.o.L.
Wed June 9, 6:45 pm, Broadway Performance Hall.
One of the most adorable cartoon cats you'll ever see smoke and swear, Tamala is the creation of the music and design collective t.o.L. (trees of Life). Some claim the collective is trying to build a marketing empire to rival that of Hello Kitty, while others say it is critiquing that very thing. Its feature film, Tamala 2010: A Punk Cat in Space (the first in a planned trilogy), raises more questions than it answers. A surrealistic romp through space and time, it's set in a cat universe where the cute little kitty Tamala might be a goddess of destruction and rebirth, or maybe she's the sacrificial lamb born of the advertising department of the intergalactic corporation Catty & Co., or perhaps she's just a cute-as-a-button cartoon character with the foul mouth of a sailor. She may even be all of the above.
Fans of the Cartoon Network shows Aqua Teen Hunger Force and Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law will be drawn immediately into the non-sequitur style of humor. Others will be annoyed by a "story" that seems like it should make more sense than it does. The best way to watch this movie is as an extended music video (the soundtrack by t.o.L. is fantastic), sort of like Pink Floyd's The Wall, but with techno loops and more hope. I've never been a big fan of midnight movies, but I could imagine myself going to see Tamala 2010 over and over again. Late at night. It makes you feel like you're on drugs, even when you're not. I love the zombie professor who's dripping maggots while giving a lecture about the history of Tamala and Catty & Co. I love the (mostly) black-and-white animation, done in the style of early-'60s anime, with bursts of colorful computer animation. I love the giant Colonel Sanders walking around with an ax in his head. I love the humor and cartoon sex and violence. I love this movie. ANDY SPLETZER
