A Masterful Look at Deception - A Sad Portrait of a Cheater

As I walked out of the theater where I saw The Armstrong Lie, I stopped to ask a gentleman who had also viewed the film if he could believe the story he had just seen. I didn't know this person, but I had to talk to someone right away about this experience; that's how strong a film this is. This gentleman, by the way, merely shook his head, confirming what I thought. 

The Armstrong Lie is the latest work of documentarian Alex Gibney, whose previous films include Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room (2005), Client 9: The Rise and Fall of Eliot Spitzer (2010) and Taxi to the Dark Side (2007); this last work was awarded an Oscar for Best Documentary. Gibney is fascinated by famous individuals who lie; the common theme in these films is that power can - in the minds of these people - become such an overwhelming drive in their behavior, that they can't even recognize they are lying, or if they can, don't see their mistruths as harmful.

The story of Lance Armstrong - overcoming testicular cancer and then winning the prestigious Tour de France bicycle race seven years in a row - is well known by now. Of course, anyone who's familiar with this tale also knows that Armstrong was accused of cheating via doping and other means almost from Day One after his first victory in France. Armstrong was eventually stripped of his seven titles and himself admitted in an interview with Oprah Winfey that he did take illegal substances during these races.

It's a story that has dominated headlines almost around the world for the past decade and given the sensational nature of the details, I would think that any filmmaker with average talent could make a watchable documentary about Armstrong and his adventures. Thankfully, Gibney is far more than an average craftsman, as he has certainly become one of the most important documentarians in America, but also arguably one of the three finest (along with Frederick Wiseman and Errol Morris). One of his strengths is taking a complex story, compiling all its elements and turning it into a very watchable film. That talent was certainly on display in Enron an it's a major strength of this multi-layered tale as well.

Gibney goes even deeper here, as he had access to Armstrong while all this was going on. The documentarian originally set out to make a film about Armstrong's comeback at the Tour de France in 2009; after having won the race every year from 1999-2005, he walked away. Yet his competitive nature drew him back a few years later; that and a desire to clear his name, as he told Gibney he was going to ride "clean," so no one could ever accuse him again of doping, especially if he won in 2009. However when the accusations became truths, Gibney had to abandon his film, at least as far as being about the comeback. Now his new film, after the rider admitted his transgressions in 2012, would be about the big picture - why did Armstrong cheat?

The centerpiece of the film is a brief interview Gibney filmed with Armstong five months after his appearance with Winfrey. The athlete admits, quite often, he believed in what he did was right "at the time" (he uses that phrase several times) and clearly seems at least a bit embarrassed by his previous actions. Yet he still maintains that he did not cheat, his reasoning being that if every cyclist in the Tour did things illegally (doping as well as blood transfusions), he fit right in - he wasn't violating any set of rules, at least in his mind.

The fact that Gibney trusted Armstrong - as did millions of people - puts a clever spin on the filmmaker's work, as he feels betrayed. So it becomes more than an objective piece of work - though in reality, what documentary can be 100% objective? - and is realized as a masterful telling not only of Armstrong's cheating, but also his despicable actions against his former teammates.

There is so much to admire in this film, not only in the way Gibney arranges this work to help the viewer understand all the components at work here (such as explaining how blood transfusions help a cyclist achieve a higher performance level), but also visually. There are images, both of the Tour de France as well as the Giro d'Italia - a race that takes place a few months earlier each year - that are simply beautiful. There is one shot taken with a long focal length lens of a man sitting with his family  in a field watching the riders race along; he waves a small flag and we are transfixed on that flag as the cyclists travel by in a blur. It's also neat to see his camera closeup during the actual race, as we see how close the public, lining the roads, get to the athletes; it must be a bit claustrophobic for the riders. We come away with a great feel for what it's like to watch as well as ride in this race. Yes, there are simple images of documents as well as straightforward interviews, but when Gibney fixes his cameras on the athletes, the film becomes beautiful; his compositions in this work are among his very best.

Gibney does balance out the film, documenting many things in Armstrong's life, from dramatic photos of him after his cancer surgery to scenes of him visiting cancer-ridden children in hospitals - the athlete seems genuine in his concern for the ill youngsters - so this is not a one-sided view of this story. But the filmmaker clearly feels for the many victims in this saga, especially one of Armstrong's former teammates, Frankie Andreu and his wife Betsy, who were treated as though they were lower than dirt after accusing the rider of injecting himself with a banned substance. Andreu's tale is a somber one and it shows how despicable Armstrong's actions were, as well as giving us insight into the power he once had; if Armstrong said that their accusations were worthless, we (at least most of us) believed Armstrong. It was the power he branded over others that may have been the worst part of this tale, Gibney seems to be arguing throughout much of the film.

This is an important documentary that goes far beyond telling this story; it's an examination of hero worship in America and around the world and it leads us to think about how we can be so easily deceived. Perhaps we need heroes so badly that we can't see clearly when they turn out to be flawed creatures. 

Alex Gibney has made an exceptional film, one that challenges the viewer far beyond the details of this saga. Terrific work, Alex!

A Man and the Sea

All is Lost, the second film from J.C. Chandor, has a storyline as basic as time - survival at sea. We've seen stories of this nature before, but as far as I can recall, we really haven't seen this particular story before or at least not one told as well as it is in this remarkable film.

Robert Redford, still a physical presence at 77, is the sole character in this film; referred to as "Our Man" in the closing titles, he is maneuvering his small craft in the Indian Ocean on what we presume to be his attempt to sail around the world. He wakens one morning to see his boat has taken on water due to a collision with a shipping container that left a hole in the side of his craft; he repairs this as well as possible, but soon, the fierce nature of the sea is too much for the small boat and Our Man has to go it alone in a life raft.

That's the plot and yet much more happens, though I don't want to spoil it. What's marvelous about this film is how we watch this character adapt to a life and death situation; here is a man without a tiger (or other CGI creatures) for company, as in last year's Life of Pi. No, it's just Our Man against the sea. He could complain about his fate, but for the most part he doesn't, save for one well-chosen four-letter word.

That utterance, along with a short message he desperately tries to leave on a short-wave radio, are the only words Our Man speaks in the entire film (there is also a brief narrative speech that opens the film - we are led to believe that he is speaking the words he wrote in a note to his family/loved ones near the end of the film).

So while some have commented that this resembles a silent film, we do have the advantage of sound, which is beautifully handled, especially when it comes to the noise of the waves crashing against the boat and of Our Man battling his way underwater during a few critical moments. There is also a nice minimal score by Alex Ebert, who thankfully knew that a soundtrack can be quite effective when there is not music underlining the on-screen action (compare this score to the almost wall-to wall effort of Henry Jackman for Captain Phillips). These sounds - and silences - are crucial to the primal nature of the film and to our emotions watching this work. A big thumbs up to sound designer Steve Boeddeker and his team for their first-rate craftsmanship.

The work of the two cinematographers on this film - Frank DeMarco above water and Peter Zuccarini underwater - also add to the awe and wonder of this film. The success of their work is vitally important, as the action is limited to a very small space; technically, the photography is excellent - it's a beautiful looking film - and on an artistic level, the blues of the sky and the sea have a shimmering, yet haunting look to them.

Of course this film would not have worked had it not been for two other individuals; Redford and Chandor. The actor is perfect for this role, as he is a pillar of strength amidst potential disaster. Redford works beautifully with his hands - really his entire body here - giving us the certainly that he can handle this perilous situation; you just believe in him from the first frame he appears on screen. He is a model of self-confidence - he will do just enough to survive and if it means shaping a device to filter sea water to make it drinkable or learning how to use a sextant to read the stars, that's what he'll do.

Chandor directs the film with great fluidity, avoiding clichés and obvious moments. This is such a basic story in its nature and the director knows he doesn't need to trick things up. Watching this adventure is something of how-to manual of how to survive at sea and Chandor along with Redford's work help give this film its tone and shape. Interesting that Chandor's first film, Margin Call, was filled with dialogue, while this has less than 10 words spoken in the body of the film. While both films deal with an individual (or individuals) dealing with a crisis - Margin Call was about a specific problem at a brokerage house during the 2008 Wall Street mess - one could hardly imagine two more different films, visually and aurally from the same creator.

I also want to point out one particular image of great beauty and sadness, as we watch a flare that Our Man has lit as a signal to a passing commercial ship at night; the crew aboard this large vessel cannot see such a small figure up close, so as the flare falls to its descent on the left side of the screen, we see the ship sail away on the far right of the screen. Visually, Chandor has presented us with a beautiful composition, while emotionally, this is a shattering moment, both for Our Man and for the audience.

At times, existential in nature and at times religious, All is Lost succeeds on many levels, especially when it comes to putting the viewer into the midst of danger. This is one of the year's most singular - and finest - films.

Finding Pleasure among the Pain

Emile Hirsch (l) and Stephen Dorff 

The Motel Life - great title - is, at its heart, a film that honors the human spirit, especially when that spirit has been battered and bruised and more often than not, disappointed. Directed by Alan and Gabe Polsky with a script by Micah-Fitzerman Blue and Noah Harpster based on the eponymous 2006 novel by Willy Vlautin, this is an honest, poignant film that is among the year's finest.

The story deals with Frank and Jerry Lee Flannigan (played by Emile Hirsch and Stephen Dorff, respectively), two brothers in their 30s that live in a motel in Reno, Nevada. For most of their lives, they have learned to deal with the fact that their existence will not be paved with gold. Their mother died when they were teenagers and their father Earl (nicely played by Kris Kristofferson in a small role), has little time for them, as he manages a used car lot not far away. Jerry Lee had one of his legs amputated below the knee after an accident with a train when his brother and he were running away from home; Frank, sensing the helplessness of Jerry Lee, has traded in many of his dreams for a life of caring for his brother. 

Without giving away too many plot details, I can tell you that Jerry Lee is involved with a fatal accident; he tells Frank about it, but their decision is to not admit to anything. Jerry Lee becomes more worried and despondent, while Frank decides to drink even more than he usually does, if only to ease the moral pain of his choice.

The model of two brothers (or male friends) caring for each other has been the basis of several novels and films, from East of Eden to Midnight Cowboy. In fact, there are times when the harsh realities forced upon the two brothers remind us of Ratso and Joe in the latter film. Yet, this is a more subdued, more introspective story, realizing many more quiet moments of reflection. At one point, Jerry Lee asks Frank "what woman is going to make love to a man with one leg?" It's moments like this one that are among the film's most perceptive.

The primary emotional release for the two brothers is a marvelous device - Frank tells Jerry Lee wild stories from his imagination, dealing with slightly crazed dreams about gorgeous women who will do anything to please them as well heroic tales of them as fighter pilots and even one far-out tale about a cross-dressing captain on a pirate ship. As Frank tells his brother the details of these stories, the screen comes alive with animation of the incidents; the stark gray and black and white drawings (by Mike Smith) draw us into the psyche of the brothers. Clearly the dreams - or are they nightmares? - are escapes from their everyday troubles. 

I love the fact that the stories are so absurd in their nature with such vivid imagination of guilty pleasures, as these two have such a troubled existence. The more despair the brothers feel, the film seems to be saying, the more extreme the release exemplified by the dreams must be. It's a nice understanding of how these characters survive their seemingly drab existence.

I say "seemingly drab" as actually the two brothers are rich in terms of their shared humanity. This is in part a love story between the brothers with absolutely no homosexual overtones. They merely love each other as brothers do, devoted to seeing that the other is rewarded with some sort of pleasure in his life, no matter how small. There's a beautifully realized scene in a motel where Frank has to help Jerry Lee take a shower, and Jerry Lee, slightly embarrassed says to Frank, "I'm naked in front of you." "It's alright," replies Frank. Simple and honest emotions - these are what The Motel Life is all about.

Perhaps the biggest compliment I can give this film is that never sinks to a level of pathos. It might have been easier to make this film a tear jerker, complete with a soundtrack with weeping strings (thankfully, David Holmes' score is subdued and minimal in its nature). The intelligent screenplay along with the straightforward, uncomplicated direction by the Polskys assures the humanity of this film. The writers and directors never once ask the audience for their sympathy; we're not asked to feel sorry for the brothers, merely we are asked to become involved in their lives and hope for some sort of small exit from their troubles. Perhaps in this age of pop psychology, the filmmakers could attract a larger audience by taking the easy way out, so I give them high marks for making an honest film that rewards an audience that wants to watch an intelligent human drama that can affect viewers without underlining the emotions on the screen.

One final note about this film; the performance of Stephen Dorff as Jerry Lee is nothing short of amazing. There's a weariness and confusion about his character that is seen in his face and heard in his voice, yet there's also a nice sense of joy that emerges, whether it's simply drinking a can of beer or petting his dog. This is a young man who understands that his days are numbered, one who at times feels sorry for himself, yet he loves life. It's a beautifully written character and Dorff presents us with a fully realized portrait of this individual. 

This is so far removed from the super-hero, comic book explosions that have hit the screens in recent years. How nice that The Motel Life gives us a particular slice of a few lives that draw us in to a world that many of us can understand - after all, most of us have disappointments that we have to deal with from time to time. I'm betting that enough people will make this film a success, not with huge box office figures to match Hollywood's megaproductions, but a success on a level the filmmakers are looking for, which is, "did we move people when they watched this film?" The answer for me is a resounding yes.

Life on the Border

"We lost our very first language that connected us all. We tore it apart into a thousand pieces. And in the madness that followed, we discovered violence, hate and finally, separation." - Narration from Purgatorio


Purgatorio, directed by Rodrigo Reyes, is a look into life on the US/Mexico border. At first, this may seem like another discussion of the immigration debate, but the film takes us much deeper into the lives of these people as well as into our souls as human beings, giving this film a depth far beyond mere politics.

This is the second documentary for Reyes, a native of Mexico, who lived in both his home land and in California as a youth, as his family shuttled back and forth. That experience, along with his studies in political science as well as his work as an interpreter - first at a hospital and now in the courtroom - has given him a unique viewpoint for making this film. You realize this is a labor of love and his message is how we are all human beings that need hope in our lives. The evidence in this film is that many along the border realize that a better life for them is only a dream, not reality.

Reyes deliberately takes this film beyond facts in an argument about whether or not the border should be open. He talks to poor Mexicans as well as one government official as well as a number of Americans that deal with this situation, one patrolling the border, another working on identifying Mexicans that try to cross illegally - or have died trying.

At no point does Reyes ever give the identity of any of these people; this is clearly not a public news approach to the problem. Reyes here wants to give us a snapshot of the times, yet does not want the film bogged down in details. I would imagine this approach will frustrate some looking for answers, but to me, this was a fresh and proper manner in which to get his message across.

A major strength of this film is the striking cinematography of Justin Chin, who gives us a broad palette of images ranging from a lovely seaside setting with the crash of gentle waves to the dirt and grime of a dump lined with the twisted metal of abandoned automobiles, many of which are ridden with bullet holes. The bright, sunny visuals are in stark contrast to the despair of many poor Mexicans that populate this environment; one man speaks of how his life is the same every day and how he believes he is already dead.

At one point of the narration (written and spoken by Reyes), he states that while it takes courage to leave your home, sometimes it takes more courage to stay. I would have liked to have seen Reyes go into more detail regarding this point. It's a valid one, but he skims over this. It's a criticism, but about the only one I have of this film.

As did John Steinbeck back in the 1930 and '40s, Reyes links animals with people; this conjunction is especially apt with the poor. Both Steinbeck in many of his works as well as Reyes in this film seem to be saying that some view the lives of the poor in the same way as a dog wandering the streets. Reyes takes things further here, as one of the sequences deals in depth with the mechanics of canine euthanasia, as we listen to a man who puts dogs to sleep (we see the machine that is the tool of death, but thankfully, any grisly details have been omitted). At first glance, this sequence seems unnecessary, yet upon reflection, it makes perfect sense here, as life and death are mere moments in one's existence - be it a man or an animal; our souls seem to have been beaten down by the system.

Purgatorio does not take the easy way out and for that Rodrigo Reyes is to be congratulated. It's a challenging and at times, a puzzling documentary that has scenes that don't necessarily flow smoothly from one transition to the next. Yet, thank goodness that the filmmaker has opted to challenge us. The immigration problem is one thing, but our existence with our fellow man is another far more diverse and troubling topic; Reyes wants us to never forget that.

Jennifer Lynch tells it like it is

Jennifer Lynch (r) with director Penny Vozniak (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

Jennifer Lynch, daughter of famed film director David Lynch, was in Chicago recently to promote the film Despite the Gods, a documentary directed by Penny Wozniak. The film traces Lynch's time in India in 2008 directing a Bollywood production called Hisss. The shooting was plagued with all sorts of problems and afterwards, the producers recut the film without Lynch's approval; she has since publicly disavowed any connection with it. 

I sat down with Lynch and Vozniak at the offices of the Chicago International Film Festival to talk to them about this film as well as Lynch's experience making it.

Tom Hyland: I never did understand. Why did Govind (Govind Menon, the producer) ask you to direct this film? Did he ever explain why he chose you?

Jennifer Lynch: He never did, but I have my impressions. He saw Surveillance (a 2008 film directed by Jennifer) and I was a female who was a filmmaker and I had a famous last name, so there was a lot to be said for going to India with a Lynch for a Hollywood/Bollywood production. I think within that he had anticipations of how he could promote it and even after reading my script, I think he still thought this was the kind of movie he would be making, not the kind of movie I would make. To me, if you've seen Surveillance, you know what kind of filmmaker I am.

To me that was the most heartbreaking, strangely illuminating part of this; the fact that Penny was able to show me things I couldn't see, but now with time, you know I can look back and realize that he hired me for a different reason than to be myself and never told me. Maybe he didn't even know himself - I'm not suggesting there was any malice in it. I think that he saw an opportunity as a producer to make a big sound.


TH: Clearly he was very impatient with you. Do you think that was the system of getting this movie done or was it just him or was it any number of things?

JL: It was a lot of things. It was a very trying situation for everybody. You know, nine months - you can imagine the footage that isn't in there!

Something was going unexpectedly every day. I can't guess, I can tell you that my biggest sadness is that after an experience such as that is Govind and I don't speak. I'm sorry that he felt the only way to gain control of the movie was to take me out of it, instead of communicating with me like "actually, here's the kind of movie we need to make. Let's sit down and make this movie together."

Whatever my part in that is, I'm sorry. I'm a work in progress like the rest of us. I can't guess what his motivations were. My heart tells me that none of it was malicious. I think that he hired someone who had a stronger and more individual voice than he anticipated and I don't think that he was willing to communicate to me at any point - whether he realized it or not too late or earlier on - exactly what the deal was. "Actually what we need to do is to make this kind of movie and I'm using your name and this is what has to happen."

You know, I'm not retarded. I get that this is a money making business. But I was told the opposite - make your movie. Again, it wasn't every day that he and I were butting heads, but those were the most exciting days for Penny.

I can't guess. I can say respectfully I shared many good times with him and I shared a lot of drama with him. I wish we could have come out on the other side with some sort of communication, because it was brutal.


TH: (To Penny Vozniak): How did you get involved in this project?

Penny Vozniak: Actually, I wan't meant to be in India. I was on my way to Afghanistan as I got a grant to make a little project there. I stopped in Mumbai because Govind was an old friend of mine. I had been in India several times before just visiting and I stopped in Mumbai and he asked me if I could do a big favor and stay an extra week and babysit Sydney Lynch, Jennifer's daughter (she was 12 at the time, TH).

I didn't really want to, I didn't want to babysit, I wanted to make a film. But I wanted to help my friend, so I babysat Syd and she was adorable, which was fun and we hung out and then I got to know Jennifer over that week and by the end of it, I was very curious. I fell in love with them, as everyone does when they first meet them. Jennifer wanted me to stay as well and she talked to Govind and they came up with this idea that I'd shoot a behind-the-scenes.

I don't like behind-the-scenes, I don't even think I've watched one, as they doesn't interest me. I'm not interested in the movie making process at all. I'm interested in stories and people's dynamics.


TH: Had you made documentaries before?

PV: I had been working on a documentary at that point for four years and I'm about to finish it now. It's about the world's real-life super heroes. I just wanted to make my own stories with real people. That's all I've ever wanted to do. So I didn't want to make this film in India, but I was offered a bit of money for it and I thought that this would help my other project, so I'll do this as a paid job.

But then about two weeks in, I was getting stuff that they would not want to use in the DVD extras, this is scathing, like Jennifer talking about getting her period and sex and I'm thinking, maybe this isn't appropriate. So I remember at one point, I said to myself I'm going to make an observational documentary about Jennifer. She's a misunderstood filmmaker. She's not everything you think she's going to be. It's very easy to look at Jen and think, "Oh, she grew up very priviliged. Hollywood royalty, the daughter of David Lynch..."

TH: I wouldn't think that, Hollywood royalty with David Lynch...

JL: Bless your heart!

TH: If you were Cary Grant's daughter, I might think differently.

PV: But to me as an indie filmmaker lover, this is the pinnacle of it. She's got this wonderful kind of legacy.

I wanted to show the quiet moments, not just how do you make a film.  I wanted to show the dynamics between the mother and the daughter and Jennifer and the actors and Jennifer and the producer. That's what interested me, so that's the story I wanted to focus on. I don't think anyone really knew, including myself, for up until about six months what I was really doing. I just kept turning up on the set thinking I'm filming something.

Then about halfway through the story, I went, "I'm filming this story about Jennifer." It's about this, it's about something I won't realize until I get to the end, but I loved that, it's a treasure hunt.

TH: Two things I noticed as I watched the film again. One was a member of the production team saying about two-thirds of the way through the film, "This is mayhem. This is India. Isn't it beautiful?" I thought it was a great line.

Then there was a scene where a medicine man or priest throwing oil on the script or blessing the production and then there is a cut of you winking, like, "OK, see what I have to go through." I thought that was a perfect moment.

JL: Yea, this is what you do. It's also that the crew had become superstitious and it was Christmas, so they put the slate down on a plastic chair in the jungle and we all sat and closed our eyes and listened as he prayed. And if you thought about it too much, you'd kind of lose your mind and yet it was this beautiful thing we're celebrating. And we're all a little afraid as every day something goes what you would call wrong. And I kept trying to be Zen-enough about it, to make some sort of day out of it.

There it was, of course, it's a plastic chair in the jungle and we're throwing flowers on it and burning incense. What else could it be? Oh, and it was beautiful, so when I saw she had the camera on me, I winked. I remember the moment. I was thinking, maybe this will help.

PV (speaking to Jennifer): Yes, you were on the ride!

That's what I loved about those subtle moments - they didn't need any words.


TH: Two final questions. Ok, let's pretend that Penny's not here. Objectively speaking, if someone saw this, they would think this is not a very flattering portrait of Jennifer. What do you say to that?

JL: You know, part of me agrees and part of me says, that's who I was there and that's a lot of who I still am. I hope that there are some flattering moments... put it this way - that's who I am. So the terror and the joy in letting her film me and forgetting quite often that she was filming me is...

TH: You're a creative person...

JL: That's what happened and she didn't change that. I can't say, "I didn't do that. That actress didn't portray me correctly." It's authentic.


TH: Last question. I see that you're working on a film and your father appears in it. (A Fall From Grace.)

JL: I'm about to shoot this film and yes, he is playing a very beautiful sort of dementia-ridden older man in it. It's a very small role.

TH: Knowing the type of filmmaker he is, I would imagine he would let you do your thing.

JL: Oh, yeah. All we ever say to each other is, "it's common fucking sense. Go have fun."

And as absurdly simple as that sounds, that's what it is. And in any situation... so suddenly this blew up. OK, it's common sense. I've got to get from here to there.

He said no at first, "I can't do it. I won't be good enough." But then we talked about a few things and he got a look on his face and a tear welled up as I was saying some things to him and I said, "That's it. That's William right there. Can you do that?" And he said, "yeah."

You remember, he was in that movie with Isabella Rossellini (Zelly and Me, 1988), so he's acted several times.

"The Verdict" and "I Will Be Murdered" - Chicago International Film Festival

Koen De Bouw in "The Verdict" (Belgium)

Two films about justice - or lack of - are among the highlights of the 49th Chicago International Film Festival. The Verdict from Belgium asks some tough questions about the legal system in that country, while I Will Be Murdered, a Spanish production, details a famous recent murder in Guatemala, bringing up numerous questions about the violence there; both films are highly recommended.

The Verdict, directed by Jan Verheyen, gets right to the point, as its opening titles are a quote from Albert Camus; "There is no justice, only limits." Our faith in the justice system will be sorely tested during this riveting film, a story of a successful businessman, Luc Segers (Koen de Bouw), who sees his wife brutally beaten and is in turn assaulted by the same criminal. He wakens from a coma a few weeks later to learn that his wife died in this attack. 

He identifies the suspect soon afterwards and the police arrest him. But a procedural error in the paperwork before the court means that the alleged criminal must be released. This is an outrage to Segers and the public in Belgium as well, as this story is reported on the evening news.

Segers has a difficult time dealing with the loss of his wife, as he focuses on seeing that justice is served. If the legal system has let him down, he will do whatever it takes to realize the criminal's guilt. The way he goes about this is the crux of this fascinating story and I won't give away any more plot details. 

On this level alone, The Verdict is an excellent film. But this movie tells two stories; the second being a look at the justice system in Belgium (and in reality, the justice system in many countries). How is it that a murderer can go free simply because of a procedural error? Yes, the film argues, there are regulations in place to protect suspects, but should someone who commits a brutal murder be allowed back into society because a lawyer forgot to sign a piece of paper?

Verheyen, who also wrote the excellent script, turns in a wonderful job of direction. He was undoubtedly influenced by Alfred Hitchcock; this will be apparent from the overhead camera shots that isolate Segers and make him seem insignificant. Yet, this is not an instance of a director borrowing heavily on Hitchcock's visuals, as Verheyen has his own style. This is a beautifully directed film, especially in the courtroom scene that concludes the film. Each side's argument is carefully presented with great zeal as well as common sense; if you were on this jury, you really wonder what you would do. Incidentally, I love the way Verheyen presents the reading of the verdict, as the words of the chief judge are slowly drowned out as the sound is muted; we only hear cheers and boos in the courtroom after the decision is announced. We don't know for a few moments what that decision is - it's a marvelous scene.

Credit also to Johan Leysen as one of the lawyers in this film - his performance is mesmerizing. High marks also to the subdued score of Steve Willaert, the marvelous job of cinematography by Frank Van Den Eeden and the exqusite production design of Johan Van Essche; this is an outstanding technical production. 

While The Verdict is based on a fictional story, I Will Be Murdered is a documentary about a famous murder, in this case, about the death of Rodrigo Marzano in Guatemala in May, 2009. Marzano, a respcted attorney, recorded a video a few days before he was assassinated; that video, transferred to a CD, was passed out to mourners at his funeral. 

Marzano's message is political dynamite, as he claims that he was killed by the president of Guatemala, as he was researching a double murder that was carried out by hitmen; Marzano believe that the government may have had something to do with these deaths, so he recorded his video in which he states that anyone watching it would know that he blamed the government for his death.

This is a riveting film, directed by Justin Webster, that takes the form of a police investigation, but in this instance the whos and whys of the crime are looked into by an official of an organization set up by the United Nations to look into mysterious political situations such as this. Slowly this prosecutor, Carlos Castresana, pieces together the elaborate details of this bizarre case, talking to Marazno's son, chauffeur, best friend and several other individuals. As he discovers more and more details, the case becomes more mysterious and his final opinion on the events of this case are controversial, to say the least.

As with The Verdict, the system of justice and government come into question in I Will Be Murdered. The filmmaker supports Marzano's belief that violence is intertwined into the culture of Guatemala, so perhaps the government did kill Marzano, if only to shut him up. Then again, there really is no proof, so the final decision will probably catch the viewer off guard. There is a point made early on in the film that half of the Guatemalan people immediately believe the government was behind Marzano's murder, while the other half think it is a coup to try and overthrow the government. The answers are not so easy.

Both films deal with justice - one with a fictional story, the other with a true one. Both leave us wondering about the people that are sworn to protect us on an everyday basis. As one lawyer remarks in The Verdict, the main character was "let down by the legal system." Tough words to think about.

Chicago International Film Festival - "The Harvest"

There are certain movies you just have to see. Maybe the cinematography is breathtaking or there's a bravura performance by a performer that will move you. Perhaps the music is unforgettable or the overall film is a great technical achievement.

Then there's a film such as The Harvest, the latest work from John McNaughton (Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, Mad Dog and Glory). You have to see this film if only because you may not believe what you're seeing on the screen - and I mean that with great praise. This is one of the most bizarre stories I've ever seen and it's handled with great assuredness by McNaughton, who takes us on one wild ride. How else to describe a modern day horror/love story?

I can't even begin to describe what happens in this film and I certainly wouldn't want to give much away, so the little I can tell you about the plot deals with a young boy of about 12 years old named Andy (Charlie Tahan), who has a physical condition that has left him very weak (basically, he can't walk more than a few feet) and is limited to his bedroom, except when he joins his parents for dinner, as he maneuvers his wheelchair to the kitchen.

He lives in an isolated countryside setting along with his parents, Katherine, a medical doctor (Samantha Morton) and Richard, a registered nurse (Michael Shannon). They are his life support team and do what is necessary to improve the boy's condition.

One day, a young girl named Maryann (Natasha Calis), who is about the same age as Andy, moves into a house not far away. She is cared for by her grandparents, as her father recently passed away. As she is in a new place, she is understandably forlorn, as she misses her old friends.

One day, she sets out for a walk and finds the house where Andy is living. She sees him in his bed and Andy lets her in through the window, as he is both curious and in need of a friend his age. However, once Katherine discovers this, she clearly doesn't approve of Maryann being around and tells her so in no uncertain terms.

Why she doesn't approve is the basis of the story and as I said, I won't spoil anything in this review. The plot takes several turns, all the while pitting Katherine's strong will against the wishes of Maryann and her son to become friends.

There's a bit of dark humor here and there, but this is definitely not a comedy. McNaughton takes the material and finds all sort of oblique angles here and there, all the while keeping the action flowing. This may be a slightly offbeat story (OK, more than slightly), but it's a pleasure to watch the director at work here, teasing us with a shot of an open doorway or window that may or may not lead to safety.

What most people will be talking about after they see this film (apart from the plot) is the performance of Samantha Morton. There will be some that will say she is over the top, but I think she is wonderful in the role of a woman who slowly has been losing her sense of reality for some time. You can't take your eyes off of her in this film, that's for sure!

I'd love to write more about this film, but I don't want to reveal its secrets. Go see it - you won't forget The Harvest anytime soon! I loved the film, and while I am certain there will be some that think this is a bit absurd, I'm betting a lot of people will be discussing this work for quite some time - and in a positive way. John McNaughton, welcome back!