USA, 2003
Director: Nathaniel Kahn
Score: ***

The discovery of a strange man found dead at a train station with the address crossed out on his identification would trigger a reactionary interest in anyone, even more so when this person turns out to be famed American architect Louis Kahn.  The mysterious death, Kahn’s influence in the architectural field and the need to know more of his secretive personal life are some of the impetus that drives his son, director Nathaniel Kahn to render this well-conceived 2003 Oscar nominated best documentary feature.  My Architect, made 30 years after Louis’s death is his son’s personal journey of discovery.

There is much material for director Nathaniel Kahn to work with. For one, his father, Louis had three families, kept apart and unknown from each other.  His accomplishments combined art and architecture resulting in works from the Yale Art Gallery to the monumental capital complex in Bangladesh.  Documentaries generally fascinate as much as the subject is of interest.  It is here that director Kahn succeeds in gradually building up momentum culminating with Louis being praised as a God for his last work in Bangladesh – the openings of his structures compared to communication with the Deity.  Kahn takes his camera crew over the world to film his accomplishments.  Fortunately, a lot of footage were originally available from the New York Foundation For the Arts.

It is difficult to fault Kahn’s film.  He exhaustively covers his father’s life from childhood to his emigration from Estonia, to his encounters with the three women of his life to his achievement in his work, despite being broke at the time of his death.  He introduces humor in his father’s impractical ideas and sustains drama during interviews with his half-sisters and mother.  His respect for his father gets a bit overblown at times, especially during the half hour of the film, with the film sliding a bit towards sentimentality.

Louis Kahn’s work is described by an admirer as rigorous, principled and exhilarating.  Though director Kahn’s film resolves most of what he set out to do, he fails to bring all his points to a satisfying closure.  If he only did, his film might be described by those same three words.

Review by Gilbert Seah

Well, Adam Sandler has finally done it.

He’s finally really as bad as everyone always said he was.

For years, I have always been one to defend Sandler—from the hilarious highs of Billy Madison and the Wedding Singer to the laborious lows of Bulletproof and Little Nicky. But after the dreck that was Anger Management and now this cold-sore of a film, unless it’s a P.T. Anderson film, I think I’ll take my next Sandler vehicle on video.

I hate to say this because I find Sandler to be a true comedic genius. He was one of the most influential artists growing up, when I first saw him on SNL when I was about 10 or 11.  No one cracked my brother and me up harder—from Canteen Boy to the DIY Halloween costumes, along with Farley, Spade and Rock, Sandler created a Holy Quadrangle of comedy that I still laugh at heartily today. And when I first saw Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore and the Wedding Singer, I was as equally enthralled by his work. And you know, I kinda liked Big Daddy. The Waterboy was OK. And then what’s this? Little Nicky? Um… not so good.  Mr. Deeds, yeah I laughed once or twice…

Then came the aforementioned Anger Management. It wasn’t funny, it wasn’t entertaining—it was barely a film. Sandler was clearly losing any credibility he had (I am not really counting Punch Drunk Love, as it’s not a true Sandler film—sorry) and his next film was going to make of break him. So when I heard news his next film was going to reunite him with Drew Barrymore (who as much as I don’t like, will admit she really made The Wedding Singer work), so I was pretty excited. Then I saw the trailer.

“What the Hell is this ***censored***?” I thought, watching it.

But, trailers can lie right? I’m still gonna give it a chance. I will still watch it on opening day. And I did.

And it sucked.

No, “sucked” doesn’t even do it justice. “Sucks” is too nice. This movie is pure, uninspired, retreaded ***censored***. Sandler obviously doesn’t give a ***censored*** anymore—he just cruises from one goofably likable love-lorn character to the next, with little change in plot or ideas. And somehow poor li’l Rob Schneider always ends up in the mess.

In 50 First Dates, Sandler is Henry Roth, a player (who’s also very sweet, per the Sandler usual) who beds women non-stop on vacation in beautiful Hawaii. One day, he meets Lucy (our little Drew!) and they hit it off immediately and agree to meet the next day. So they do, but there’s one problem: Lucy has no short term memory and remembers nothing after she goes to sleep. Enter various comedic fracases.

While this could have been played for meaner laughs (as Sandler would of done about ten years ago), Sandler, preying on the sensibilities of the Valentine’s holiday crowd who loved his sweet Wedding Singer character (the one he pretty much plays all the time now), tries even harder than before to make you fall in love with him. That means cutting the dick jokes to the minimum and making the thing practically a drama towards the middle. I only wish I could tell you the unsatisfying, horrible ending that will lead you shaking your head in disbelief, saying to yourself “How does she live like that? And they got… and there’s a …that’s makes no ***censored*** sense!”

The cast is passable—Drew Barrymore (who I know most of you hate, but, while I find her personality in real life to be ***censored*** and fake as all Hell, I think she’s still super cute.) is even more annoying than usual. She wants you to love her more than you love Adam—it’s like they’re locked in an eternal struggle for your heart. The girl can’t act, sorry.  Rob Schneider does his contractually-obligated “sidekick who talks in a funny accent” shtick and Ring-er Sean Astin is a ***censored***-erotic steroid juicer. I don’t even want to get started on Dan Aykroyd—let me just say that Sandler better take a good look at Aykroyd hard, because that’s where his career is headed. Adam’s career is in critical condition and it’s time to perform some resuscitation, stat, because pretty soon it’ll be him starring alongside Britney Spears in Crossroads 2 (Yeah Dan—you know I saw you!)

I tried, but there is absolutely nothing to recommend in this movie. As a matter of fact, if someone you love recommends seeing 50 First Dates, punch them. 50 times, if necessary.

Review by Louis Fowler.

1997, Japan
Director: Kiyoshi Kurosawa
Starring: Koji Yakusho, Tsuyoshi Ujiki, Masato Hagiwara,

Detective Takabe (Koji Yakusho) is investigating some mysterious murders with the assistance of his psychologist friend. There is no link or motive for the suspects, and the suspects don’t know or remember what they have done. The only link between the murders is an X mark on each victim’s neck. As they continue deeper into their investigation, they discover a horrific and sinister element behind the murders.

I believe there are two kinds of films. The kind of film that makes you feel and the kind of film that makes you think. Cure fits in latter category. It is a strange but good psychological thriller. The story and characters, especially the main bad guy, are very strange. It does puzzle your mind throughout the film. The film focuses on Takada and his investigation of the murders. There are many characters involved in the story and while some are very essential, most are really just signs on the side of the road. Just like his other films, Cure really requires you to think. And yes, it is filled with an eerie atmosphere throughout. One thing that I don’t like about his films is that they all begin with a very engaging story but at midpoint they turn into social commentaries.

This film should perhaps be viewed twice to have a better understanding. It is very subtle and atmospheric, but it may not be for everyone.

Review by Shogo.

Hong Kong, 2002
Directors: Andy Lau and Alan Mak
Cast: Andy Lau, Tony Leung
Score: ****

Infernal Affairs is the biggest Hong Kong hit in decades, drawing a record HK$7 million when it opened during the Christmas of 2002. Not only does the film boast two of the city’s hottest stars (Andy Lau and the more recognizable Tony Leung of Happy Together, In the Mood for Love and other Wong Kar Wai films) but it has a multi-layered plot skillfully executed by its two directors in a film that is as entertaining as it is handsome to look at – a rarity in Hong Kong films.  (Infernal Affairs has already spawned a prequel and a sequel.

Lau and Leung play moles, one planted in the police force and the other in a gangster triad.  The film begins with the two young men training in the force.  Leung is expelled but secretly hired to infiltrate the triad while Lau clandestinely reports to his triad boss while serving in police uniform.  The rest of the film interweaves the action of the two culminating in a confrontation as both discover each other’s identity.

Directors Lau and Mak develop a compelling tale by focusing on twin parallels - reflected in the nature of the two bosses – the chief inspector and drug king-pin; in the similarities encountered in the tasks performed by the two moles and again in the emotional trauma resulting in the prolonged playing of an uncomfortable role.  It is clear that the play in the cops and robbers game is interchangeable as it is ambiguous.  The loyalties that the moles develop as a result are as disturbing as it is real in life.  The action sequences (car crashes, chases on-foot and gangland executions) are sufficiently exciting, complementing the moody nature of the crime drama.

As a bonus, there are some magnificent looking shots, for example, in the shoot-out sequence in the covered car park - the floor scattered with puddles of dark water reflecting the action taking place.  Master cinematographer Chris Doyle (mentioned in the opening credits) clearly must have left in his imprint here.  On the other hand, cheap theatrics like the elevator doors opening and closing on a slain body look too staged.

But it is the darkness and moodiness of the film that finally captivates.  There are no heroes in this story – just survivors.  The Chinese title, which translates to Wujian Path tells it all.  Wujian is the name of an ancient form of hell – a continuous hell, the one in Buddhist mythology of the worst kind.  It also reflects the torment particularly faced by Leung as the traitor in the triad.  Only two high ranking officers in the police force know of his undercover.  When one is killed and the pressure mounts, he has to seek psychiatric help to retain his sanity.

Lau and Leung are charismatic in their leads, portraying both a vulnerability and strength in their characterizations.  Their mentors (triad boss and police chief) are also brilliantly played by Eric Tsang and Anthony Wong.  Pity the female roles are under-written.  The psychiatrist (Kelly Chen) helping Leung through his trauma appears to be just going through the motions and Lau’s fiancée (Sammi Cheng) is more irritating, whining and complaining most of the time.

For all the praise that can be bestowed on Infernal Affairs, one can only wish the film will reach local screens.  Miramax has bought the North American rights.  This might not be a good thing as their other Asian films notably Shaolin Soccer and Hero are still idling on the shelves. Still, Infernal Affairs is definitely worth viewing and it is available on DVD at present.

Review by Gilbert Seah.

USA, 2003
Director: James Cox
Cast: Val Kilmer, Kate Bosworth
Even with a maximum amount of buzz surrounding it, Wonderland all but skipped theaters, at least in my area. And while this type of theater booking reasoning has always bothered me, I can see why Hollywood does it. After working in a theater for so long, you begin to understand that most of the public are idiots who clamor for movies about souped-up cars and live-action versions of fat cartoon cats. Why lose money on a smaller film while you can fill up a stadium-seater with 168 screens of Lord of the Rings?

This brings me to home video. It’s really the only way to see any small films in Oklahoma. And even then, when all you have is Blockbuster and Hollywood, it’s still a ***censored*** Goonie-treasure hunt. While lately the Blockbuster by my house has been better (they did have plenty of unrented copies of Beyond Re-Animator and Lost in Translation last week), it’s always hit-and-miss. So, naturally, even though I did have low hopes for the film itself, I was glad to see that, ten minutes before closing on a Wednesday night, there were still plenty of copies of Wonderland, all waiting to be checked out.

One of my favorite sub-genres of film are biopics about the more outré members (no pun intended) of society, especially when it comes to porn and the like, and with a film like this, I bet everyone was expecting a more true to life version of Boogie Nights, or a brilliant mystery like Auto-Focus. Unfortunately, it was more like Blow, except with John Holmes and no actual blowing.

Horribly mis-directed by James Cox, Wonderland is a slap-dash retelling of the little-known Wonderland murders that apparently implicated the then ex-porn star/ then current coke-head John Holmes. It’s told in a low-rent Kurosawa multiple-POV non-linear fashion that’s more annoying than innovative. And that’s basically it. We learn nothing. We’re really not told anything. We’re just shown a glimpse into the lives of grimy, irritating characters that sit around non-stop, snort coke and plan botched heists.

Val Kilmer stars as Johnny “Wadd” Holmes, but I don’t think he knows it. The gloriously overrated current “it girl” Kate (no relation to Brian) Bosworth is his annoying girlfriend. Lisa Kudrow, Josh Lucas and Eric Bogosian are in there somewhere too. Heir/skank Paris Hilton has a wordless, less-than-a-minute cameo as a girl on a boat (actually, not giving her any lines was the only good idea this film had, but if he truly had any good ideas, he would of not had her at in this all).  Everyone overacts, everyone over-emotes, everyone in this movie sucks and should be blacklisted from Hollywood.

Also—don’t get fooled into thinking this movie is about John Holmes—it’s not. There is no interesting life-history, no behind the scenes and not one glimpse of his 13-inch manhood. Not one. Change the main character and this movie could have been a standard crime thriller. It could have been about Gary Coleman and you wouldn’t have had to of changed one line of dialogue. And how do you have a movie about John Holmes and not have any sex? That’s like making a movie about the Gospel of John and not including Christ—it just makes no sense.

On the plus side, included on the second disc is the feature-length, VCA-made documentary Wadd. This is a billion times better than Wonderland itself, and tells you more than the actual movie does. If it’s available individually, I say snap it up.

Overall, Wonderland isn’t even the price of a rental. It’s cheaper just to take a ***censored*** and smear it on the TV, because it’s the exact same thing at half the price.

Louis Fowler is a frequent contributor to Cinema Eye and Hitch Magazine. He is also the publisher of Damaged Magazine, a new issue of which is coming soon.