“Toast,” the tale of a Brit food writer, mostly meanders like a ditched dinghy – until final act

“Toast” is a peculiar “family” story where a father (played by Ken Stott) and son Nigel (Oscar Kennedy, when young; Freddie Highmore, when older) in 1960s England clash before and after the his mother (played by Victoria Hamilton) has passed on.

The family is used to simple, banal suppers: mom has the opposite of the Midas touch in the kitchen.  When Nigel asks his mum to bake a cake with him, she concedes “if we have to.”  Nigel daydreams about being either a grocer or cook, with grateful customers.  Frustrated, the middle school age Nigel is ambitious: he wants to cook for his family, show them that dinner can be something better than buttered toast – seriously!

Mum and son struggle to bake a cake in "Toast" (Courtesy: W2 media)

When Mrs. Potter, their housekeeper (Helena Bonham Carter) arrives, she excites the dad in ways he’d forgotten, and pushes Nigel’s buttons as she seems inclined to take his mom’s place.

As happens in some misguided movies, this one is vague and meanders without purpose, with the most interesting plotting waiting the final act!  By then, an older Nigel begins to compete with the new woman of the house, Mrs. Potter, to satisfy his dad’s stomach.  She won’t play nice.

And, then it’s fun.  This opens at the Edina Cinema on Oct. 14th.

This might be splendid inside baseball for foodies.  Until the final act, others’ll feel they’ve been plunged into the deep end.

A “Happy, Happy” story of love from Norway?

Lust blinds.  Love confounds. “Happy, Happy” is the feature-length debut of Anne Sewitsky.  Each of us has faced the questions of whether someone is the one for us.  Sometimes the answer to that question is easy; it’d be great to know that life.  What happens when you have to face the fact that you chose the wrong partner and lover?

This not quite love story opens at the Uptown Theatre on October 7th.

“Happy, Happy,” a Norwegian film, confronts that question in sensitive and sloppy ways.  There are two very different couples, neither of which is happy.  One man is fleeing from the memories of his wife’s infidelity.  One woman isn’t sure why her man feels nothing for and in fact belittles her.  And why he’s fine with ignoring his reasons why.

A happy marriage – each to someone else. (Courtesy: Magnolia Pictures)

Love is often a compromise, but how much do you give or give up for happiness?  In this story of love, which might not be a love story, an educated couple Sivge (Henrik Rafaelsen) and Elisabeth (Maibrett Saerens) rents a house from and is greeted by a provincial and friendly couple, Eirik (Joachim Rafaelsen) and Kaja (Agnes Kittelsen). Elisabeth and Sivge are professionals, while Kaja and Eirik do…we don’t know what.  Each couple has a son.  Elisabeth and Sivge is adopted from Ethiopia.  Why they are in this story is a mystery – neither helps the story.  Mysteriously Kaja no longer interests Eirik.  Some months ago Elisabeth cheated on Sivge.

Kaja, made vulnerable by Eirik’s chronic disinterest in and belittling of her, finds a role model in Sivge and Elisabeth, and a distraction in Sivge.  He finds a refreshing and welcome warmth and sweetness in Kaja.  But Eirik faces a different, confusing problem: why’d he choose Kaja?  What does he want?

This is a competent film with problems, which make you scratch your head: there’s a bizarre, awkward subplot concentrating on Elisabeth and Sivge’s adopted Ethiopian son.  For an inexplicable reason, after having found a children’s book on slavery, Kaja and Eirik’s son decides to play “slave” games with the boy.  He somewhat playfully treats him as one.

How does love look when you want the other's partner? (Courtesy: Magnolia Picture)

These distractions work like a musical segment from a circa mid-20th-Century movie: a Negro band plays a song, which is irrelevant to the movie, and, which when played in the South, could be removed so that it wouldn’t offend that region’s sensibilities.

There’s a palate-cleansing devise bombs:  a choral group, which sings between acts.  While the songs suit the story sometimes, they don’t serve it.  The subplots don’t support or propel the main story – they give nothing to it.  If the director had omitted either of these problems, she could’ve also omitted at least 15-minutes from the film.

This is a competent film with a nice, quiet and smart story.  But doesn’t need to run for much longer than an hour.

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“Passione” for John Turturro’s documentary take on Neapolitan music

“Passione” is musical, but it’s not a musical.  This is an independent project of love for actor John Turturro.  Most documentaries share a trait: an agenda, mission, personal or political story.  They employ a narrative structure; not “Passione.”  It’s a movie but has neither a plot, nor a story, nor stars.

It opens at Minneapolis’ Lagoon Cinema on August 19th.

Sparring over love

A series of music videos, with interview sound bites cut in, most of “Passione” has groups or soloists performing in-place.  It documents Naples’ musical passion.  It emphasizes the performances over any expert’s historical points-of-view.

With neither a plot nor an obvious story to recount “Passione” is a series of music videos Napoli-style.  Maybe Italy’s MTV still bothers with its namesake programming unlike in America.

This’s John Turturro’s love letter to Naples, he says, and its music.  Maybe it’s like 1977′s “New York, New York” was for Martin Scorsese, as he has described it in interviews.

A couple of scenes stand out: one, early on, has several women writhe and gyrate on a multilevel building – a striking site – for what seems to be one of the few songs, without an on-screen singer.  Another one, half way into the film, has a trio of disparate sounding vocalists, including Peppe Barra and M’Barka Ben Taleb, take on “Lay that Pistol Down.”  It’s remarkable.  An engaging dissonance, which jars as much as it charms.

If “Lay that Pistol Down” is new to your ears, you might have to be patient, approaching it with an open, sonic palate or just await its finish.  It’s a vocal assault, which is none-the-less compelling if you can go beyond how foreign it might be to your ears.

Ms. Taleb alternates between singing and doing a tribal-sounding shout, the name for which escapes me!  Mr. Barra alternates between singing and rapping, aggressively.  A third vocalist, whose presence Barra and Taleb overshadow, completes a noteworthy trio.

If you like Neapolitan music, or even Italian style or architecture, this might suit you.

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“Point Blank” is a French thriller that gives good chase. Good smart chase.

“Point Blank” starts just as its title does, without foreplay.  The first shot jolts us into a story, of smart escapism.

On a typical workday Samuel (Gilles Lellouche), a nursing assistant in France, tries to stop a suspicious hospital visitor in a lab coat from messing with an injured criminal, Hugo Sartet (Roschdy Zem), being treated after having fled an attack.  He pursues the man in a lab coat, but merely shoos him.  In another world that wouldn’t even be a blip.

Too bad he and his pregnant wife, Nadia Pierret (Elena Anaya), are in for the shock of their lives: someone breaks in to their apartment and seizes her before he can see or sense anything.  But why?

Sam leaps into a situation well beyond him

“Point Blank,” from director Fred Cavayé, opens at Minneapolis’ Lagoon Cinema on August 19th.

This event up-ends loving pregnant couple, Sam and Nadia’s, work-a-day urban life, like a chainsaw.  Sam must deliver a dangerous package – that seasoned, violent criminal – to the man who has taken his pregnant wife.  His pregnant wife is in the middle of a volatile pregnancy.  The stakes couldn’t be more grave or personal.

This resembles a familiar, iconic character, right?  Smart and ambitious, Samuel is an ordinary man who’s thrown into extraordinary circumstances of crime, betrayal and corruption.  Remember Roger Thornhill in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1954 “North By Northwest,” or simply 1993′s “The Fugitive.”

The worlds of Sam, the abductor, and Hugo, his hostage, collide; the irony is that the innocent one is the abductor, pushed to desperation, to muscle and hustle a real criminal away from his guarded hospital bed to freedom.

The biggest irony is probably that these two disparate men amount to a good pair!  They cooperate with each other when one of his agendas – Hugo’s safety, or Sam’s, but particularly Nadia’s – is jeopardized.  This, while they spend most of their time tugging and yanking each other into opposite, rarely natural directions.  Against the American stereotype of non-Anglo criminals, Hugo is consistently calmer than Sam.  He’s also a complex, thoughtful semi-compassionate criminal, with copper skin and wooly hair.  In American crime stories, the brown, black or beige criminal is either foolish or viscious, if not both.

"Hostage" Hugo isn't to be trifled with

At 83-mins, “Point Blank” is just long enough to be seen as a feature-length film, but it still feels like a full movie.  When as an American, you think of a French thriller, “La Femme Nikita” pops to mind, and even “Taken,” although the latter merely takes place in Paris.  “Point Blank” is fast-paced, and has wit.  For a thriller, a chase thriller that’s rare.  It provides more than the basics: characters we care about and a gripping plot.

Another interesting surprise: when’s the last time you got opera music in a thriller, it fit and worked for you?  “The Man Who Knew Too Much,” with Jimmy Stewart, had an orchestra scene, hmm almost a motif, but that’s different.­  Well, after an intense chase scene (one among many) we get this vocal, which let’s the pace and our hearts slow down.

“Point Blank” borrows music and specific shots from “The Bourne Ultimatum” and takes cues from Bernard Hermann’s music, which marked a few different Hitchcock oeuvres, such as “The Man Who Knew Too Much.”  It’s worth noting that family, the protection of family is at the heart of both that film and “Point Blank.”  That’s atypical for a thriller.

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“Vincent Wants to Sea” is a charming German roadtrip about escape, both real and imaginary

“Vincent Wants to Sea” is a German-made story of escape and healing, both real and imaginary from director Ralf Huettner.  The original German title: “Vincent will Meer.”   Vincent’s a young man with the socially isolating Tourette Syndrome,  who’s mourning his mom’s death, and also has to deal with his dad.  A dad whom he barely gets, and who barely gets him.  With all this in his head and heart, he simply wants to escape or vacation to the sea.  In Italy.  Where his mom finally wanted to be.

Troubled young people on a roadtrip in "Vincent Wants to Sea" (courtesy Boston.com)

But he’s left with his dad.  Vincent’s (Florian David Fitz) tics seem to be worse with his mom gone and his dad not.

This worthwhile small German story is showing at the Lagoon Cinema from August 12th.

Vincent’s Alpha-male dad, Robert (Heino Ferch), fits a stereotype.  He doesn’t understand, how to help his son, or even want to.  When life events clash with his plan, as with a dead wife and a troubled son, he acts like a child: picture Gordon Gekko’s infantile outbursts in 1987′s “Wall Street.”  Robert  finagles a spot in a therapeutic clinic, and drops his son there.

Soon after, Vincent clashes with his obsessive-compulsive and anti-social roommate, Alexander (Johanne Allmeyer) and might click with a curious, coy anorexic woman, Marie (Karoline Herfurth).  But the clinic is too much for this odd, needy fledgling couple.  Vincent and she decide to seize and flee in the doctor’s car, and take the at-times man-child Alexander with them so, he doesn’t tattle.  They become a surprising team.

A healing, erotic connection? (courtesy fanpop.com)

After the clinic’s doctor, Dr. Rose (Katharina Muller-Elmau), tells Vincent’s dad about the incident, he comes to help her bring them back.  The duo cooperates to find the trio.  They also become a team of sorts.  Their teamwork is the sort, which we’d expect to amount to kisses and more.  But maybe not.

“Vincent Wants to Sea” is a simple, amusing road trip with wit.  Laughter marks the teams’ run-ins with car theft, petty gas station robbery and car accidents.  There are touches of 1986′s “Stand By Me,” albeit with different brush strokes on power, self-discovery and adventure from that.

“Bride Flight” is a great romantic drama about three disparate 1950s brides who reunite in 2000s

“Bride Flight” is an engrossing, dramatic romance from the Netherlands, and director Ben Sombogaart.  According to the film’s website, the story was inspired by 1953′s Last Great Air Race, from London to New Zealand.  Three eligible & engaged women meet on the bride flight, and in the process are touched and beguiled by a magnetic outdoorsman, Frank de Booy (Waldemar Torenstra when young, Rutger Hauer when old).

Marjorie (Elise Schapp) is photographed for record-breaking posterity (courtesy Music Box Films)

Each is bound to meet a man, other than him, who is all but a stranger to her, and choose between doors one and two à la “Let’s Make A Deal.”

This plays at the Edina Theater for a week starting on June 17th.

The flight’s turbulence ensures moments that attach each of them to the other for a generation to come, and more, whether they think they want to or not.  That’s where they click with one another; the flight leaves them shaken and stirred!  It sparks fears of flight, mortality and other equally profound personal qualms and questions.  Each of these beauties and their stories is drawn and portrayed fully, beyond being simply one-offs of archetypes or stereotypes.

Frank de Booy (Rutger Hauer) beguiles each woman while marrying neither of them (courtesy Music Box Films)

We find a sheltered, pregnant and buxom blonde beauty Ada van Holland (Karina Smulders when young, and Pleuni Touw when old).  who’s also sweet and provincial.  And she’ll find a polite, self-righteously religious man who’s morality is rigid.

Another bride is a pretty, flamboyant fashion designer, Esther (Anna Drijver, when young, and Willeke van Ammelrooy when old), She’s an independent-minded Jew who lost all biological ties in WWII; her persona and sensibility are out–of–time and –place for mid-20th-Century New Zealand – or anywhere.  She finds an affable, but conservative conformist.  Quickly she knows that, as he chafes her, she will him – much more so.  She ditches him and gets into “trouble” as pregnancy was called then.

This leads to a complex subplot with the final woman, Marjorie (Elise Schaap when young, and Petra Laseur when old), a beautiful, cheery brunette who hasn’t yet any backstory or baggage.  It’s she who winds up with the most conventional path.

This is a story more about the detours that these women’s lives take incidentally, than whatever plan that any of them had laid out on a map.  They get to know Frank better than they do either of their fiancés; Frank shuffles the playing cards in their minds.  As John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy doing other things.”

This film makes images from 1994′s “Legends of the Fall” and 1995′s “The Bridges of Madison County” bubble up in our minds: Frank is both the disrupting and uniting force in these beauties’ lives, like Tristan Ludlow in “Legends of the Fall;” Ada is like Francesca Johnson in “The Bridges of Madison County,” which takes place around the same time.  She’s cruelly torn between obliging love for her children, and erotic love for that flight connection.  Like Ludlow, Frank is the rock that each of these women though broke themselves against.

Esther (Anna Drijver) and Frank (Waldemar Torenstra) remain connected despite life's storms (courtesy Music Box Films)

There’s a power in the details, the nuances, the moments, which tell what dialogue, no matter how precise or eloquent, can.  It shares this with Robert Redford’s sensual and attentive visual style.  For example: the glances and body language between Ada and Frank.  In a scene where she tries on Esther’s wedding dress in the plane’s bathroom, and he walks in to check it out (airborne bathrooms must’ve been roomy then!).  This’s a great, chuckle-worthy scene.

In another, later in the flight Frank dozes off seated beside Ada, with has hand resting in a lewd spot.  When she wakes up, she blushes but doesn’t budge it.  In addition upon landing there are moments between Esther and her betrothed, which show they are clearly mismatched!  The mismatch is subtler between Ada and hers.  When she meets he and his father, one of her blouse buttons is unfastened.  The flight was rocky!

That rockiness leaves us wondering about and hoping for a continued spark between Frank and Ada beyond the airport.

After the pivotal flight, Esther and Marjorie make a poisonous pact, creating a dilemma.  On one end, when Esther is pregnant and her daring goals preclude her from keeping it; and on the other, Marjorie yearns for a child, but finds troubling news, that it’ll nary happen.  She and her husband take on Esther’s baby, but she holds chip on her shoulder because of how they got it.  That grabs us and creates a key subplot.  But when Ada’s story comes back in to play, after having begun with plum gusto before our characters land, it feel like when need to ask why this cherry star-crossed romance was put off.

The climax comes up as an afterthought – flacid – against these women’s great dramas.  But that criticism is petty against a strong drama with the quality of characters and portrayals that we receive, and the glimpse that “Bride Flight” gives us into the bounds of women’s opportunities in the middle of the 20th-Century.

“Applause” deserves a round. Paprika Steen shows an actor’s humanity within the tumult of redemption

“Applause” is an almost feature-length movie from Denmark, and director Martin Zandvliet.  It’s about a well-known, middle-aged actress, Thea Barfoed (Paprika Steen), who’s struggling to move beyond her toxic personal life.  She’s a recently divorced, recovering alcoholic who yearns to see her children again after having literally struck fear into them.

Paprika Steen needs "Applause" to keep up appearances

“Applause,” showing at the Film Society of Minneapolis/St. Paul from June 10th, is good.  You feel for Thea even when you don’t want to.

We see her in two settings: as an actress on-stage arguing with an unseen foe and as a mom off-stage fighting addiction and fighting to spend time with her two sons, William (Otto Leonardo Steen Rieks) and Matthias (Noel Koch-Søfeldt).  The bits we see of her performance on-stage are deftly used two-fold: to show her power as an actor and to show how that performance can reflect her broken, needy “former” self.  Because while she plays someone else, that character is no fiction, but her as she was before daring to recover.

She’s angry, bitter and has a lot of regrets or at least a few big ones.  She keeps those reigned beneath a skilled mask of friendliness that she struggles to hold still.  Her ex-hubby Christian (Micheal Falch) is wary of her, and weary after having left her and taken their sons away from her violent hands.  But he knows she’s made progress.  This story is about what unfolds after a key conversation.

Even if you’re won by the poster or DVD case, you might underestimate “Applaus” if you see how brief it is; you might assume that such a brief story would be mediocre.  85-minutes is as a short as a film can be and still be a feature.  This film could be short and succeed because it’s about the woman, and those in her immediate life.  The characters, other than she, her ex-husband Michael and their sons and his new wife, are minor.  As she’s a constellation – they don’t matter.

As she tells Christian that, away from the stage (where she isn’t herself) she sits or paces in her apartment, she has nothing else – no anchor, apart from alcoholics’ meetings, for her life.  She’s a mess.  Her life’s a mess.  Having contact with her sons would give her a life – or a reason for one.

Thea clings to her ex's new wife, and hopes of time with her boys.

Most movies are concerned with placating, and amusing, but not challenging viewers.  Maybe the messy movies are the most potent.  The story’s strong as are the performers.  Most people know someone just as screwed up as Thea.  They’re probably related to their own version. Those stories, which put us off because they’re too close to reality, they make us shift in our seats.  That’s good.  Why not?

“Applaus” is simple in many ways.  The best stories have simple premises.  It has a petty problem: its look.  Maybe it’s not a “problem,” but something literally foreign to North American viewers.  While the lighting is awkward and even off-putting, you can’t ignore the look – definitely indie.  But you get used to it.

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“Potiche” is a French retro farce of sexual & workplace politics, which might remind you of “Nine to Five”

“Potiche” a French farce of sexual politics, set in the 1970s is an amusing, campy and retro story.   This story of a trophy wife (the translation of potiche) who takes her CEO husband’s place at the umbrella factory, which he claimed from the marriage.

This feels like a flipside telling of the 1980 workplace comedy movie, “Nine-to-Five.”  The look, feel is out-dated, but that retro view helps to make this basically smart, but also shallow story amuse us.

“Potiche” takes place when the U.S. was amid its feminist and labor revolutions, which were also marked by “women’s work” sections of the newspaper want ads.

Landmark Theatres’  shows this at the Edina Cinema for a week from April 29th.

There is une petite leçon beyond the campy and ironical comedy.  It’s worth seeing.

“The Princess of Montpensier” reminds us that wars have been fought over women

“The Princess of Montpensier” is a costume romantic drama, from Bertrand Tavernier, and set in the 1500s.  The fight over the princess’ favors reminds us of what much of classical poetry and literature has observed: “wars have been fought over the favors of a woman.”

This is an era that damns the men, even the kingdom and dooms her.  Marie (Mélanie Thierry) is torn between two men, two cousins’ love (unrelated to her).  One she wants, Henri de Guise (Gaspard Ulliel).  The other, who she doesn’t, Prince de Montpensier, (Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet) but her father does – for politics and property.  He coerces her into marrying the prince, but the prince is too young and too immature to be a good match for his newly arranged wife.

poster (courtesy Flickr/Creative Commons)

This will be showing at Landmark Theatres’ Edina Theater for a week from Aprill 22nd.

This princess’ life and the story become more fraught when we see that all the men who spend a lot of time around the princess are enchanted by her, succombing to her assets.  The prince’s mentor and tutor, the Comte de Chabannes (Lambert Wilson) a gentleman, warrior and scholar – a rarity.  And the prince’s commander, Duc d’Anjou (Raphael Personnaz), also vies for Marie.  While the Comte is deliberate about this, showing his maturity, the Duc is younger, impulsive and urgent (or just lusty) about it.

This is one of those “if only” stories, where you notice that, if not for one road taken, there’d be none of this trouble – but also this intricate story, this romantic and political tumult and suspense wouldn’t interest us.

An exchange tells a lot about the princess’ and the prince’s bond: on their way into his castle…

He asks “When will you love me?”

She says, “When you order me to?”

–If only she didn’t cave in to her dad.

–If only women hadn’t been considered chattel and beasts of burden then.  And head-strong women were such oddities as to be thought mad.

The most interesting subplot belongs to the best-drawn supporting character, the Comte de Chabannes; he’s a warrior turned pacifist.  He laid down his long sword after having killed a very vulnerable woman by accident, but in the heat of a fight.

The romantic and political intrigues are complex to a Shakespearian level.  More than a few shades of truths and lies push Marie, her husband, her tutor and the Comte away from one another – but mostly her.

The beautiful colors used in the costumes and photography overall draw our attention, but the plot, the performances and the plotting over love and lust command that attention.  Those scenic colors are incidental to the great characters and the ways in which their stories clash with one anothers’.

See this film!

The big problem: the more than two hour sitting might make you antsy, even though the story’s great.  Also, if you want sword fights, serious ones from this, you might find the few in this to be pale and shallow.

“Cameraman: the Life and Work of Jack Cardiff” is a fun, witty treat for movie nerds (and their friends)

A cinematographer, Jack Cardiff, of England, waited until age 95 to leave us.  He had a story of 70 years of defining and designing how the light looks in movies – chiefly British ones.  His reputation across the pond was so eminent that independent filmmaker Craig McCall (not a household name in American movies) just had to make a film about his talents, his contributions and ambitious & zealous artistry.  That’s “Cameraman: the Life and Work of Jack Cardiff.”

When was the last time you went to a movie and considered who was in-charge of its look or visual attitude?  Cardiff and others talk about how he was inspired by painters, particularly impressionists, such as Vincent Van Gogh and Johannes Vermeer, to light for drama and emphasis.  In fact Christopher Callis, one Mr. Cardiff’s peers, said that he helped to found the British movie look.

In the late 1940s his work founded his reputation as a go-to cameraman, and as a man who was game for artistic risks.  His big break came with 1946′s “Matter of Life and Death” aka “Stairway to Heaven” in America.  His work on 1947′s “Black Narcissus” helped to forge his reputation; the lighting and look of it are extraordinary, bold and evocative.  It showed new ways to see and understand how artistic a film could be.  In addition, he worked on the first ever documentary that wasn’t a travelogue:  1945′s “Western Approaches.”

Martin Scorsese, a renowned American movie icon, whose voice seems to out weigh several of the others in this film, described Mr Cardiff’s work as “painting in-motion.”  To that point, Orson Welles once called movies “an enormously expensive paint box,” which is another way to say just how Cardiff expressed his talents when directors gave him the led-way.

In a couple of books about Mr. Scorsese, he describes how he reveres English filmmakers, especially Michael Powell, and the degree to which they inspired his own work.  “Cameraman” uses a brilliant split screen that briefly illustrates point-by-point, on how Mr. Powell’s “The Red Shoes,” from 1948, showed a daring new way to show point of view: from the mind’s eye of a performer.  Rewatch in boxing scenes in 1980′s “Raging Bull” after watching “Red Shoes’” dance scenes – you’ll get it.

This is a niche movie; there aren’t a lot of people who watch documentaries.  And this isn’t the first documentary about a director of photography, or a group of them.

During an audience Q & A with the filmmaker, Craig McCall, after the first screening, at the Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival, he said that this, which he spent 13 years making independently, was inspired at least in part by the American Film Institute’s (AFI) 1992 documentary “Visions of Light.”

That’s an extraordinary documentary about American movie aesthetics, and specifically about movie lighting and those men – mostly – who made movies like how they do.  McCall had wanted to make a version about cinematographers from the United Kingdom, but… he hadn’t the AFI’s wallet.

Jack among some of his subjects (courtesy JackCardiff.com)

McCall calls this a conversation with Mr. Cardiff – that’s the style.  Movie’s usually summarize some part of our world, and how we understand or want to understand it.  Maybe cinematography summarizes how freely we might use our imaginations, or how open it is, when watching movies.

If you’re the kind of movie-goer who goes to film festivals or habitually checks out the special features on DVDs, which are barely and rarely special these days, then “Cameraman” is great.  Even if you’re not…You’ll have a lot of fun while learning fascinating details about movies and how they’re made.

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