The Screengrab : luc besson

DVD Digest for May 12, 2009

Paul Clark — Tue, 12 May 2009 14:00:00 GMT

This week, a bunch of new tie-in DVDs for a little movie called Star Trek flood the market, as well as a new Criterion release from an old master.

But first, recent releases! For most moviegoers, this week’s big ticket title is the Euro-flavored kidnapping thriller Taken. Produced by Luc Besson and helmed by Pierre (District B13) Morel, Taken became the first action hit of 2009 by combining the high-octane grit of its action scenes with the unexpected gravitas brought to the story by star Liam Neeson. Not faring so well at the box office was Underworld: Rise of the Lycans (Sony, also Blu-Ray), the third in the seemingly deathless vampires-versus-werewolves saga. Also this week, Terence Davies’ Liverpool doc Of Time and the City (Strand) hits stores, along with a trio of high-profile direct-to-DVD releases: the Donnie Darko follow-up S. Darko (Fox, also Blu-Ray), Michelle Pfeiffer and Ashton “Twitter King” Kutcher in Personal Effects (Universal, also Blu-Ray), and The Grudge 3 (Sony), the not-particularly-anticipated third entry in the Grudge series.

In classics, the Trek love continues today with Paramount’s Star Trek: The Motion Picture Trilogy (also Blu-Ray), which thankfully doesn’t include the boring-ass first Star Trek movie, but instead encompasses films two through four. And if Trekkers are in need a few laughs and don’t feel like watching IV (or V, for that matter) again, they can pick up the Galaxy Quest Deluxe Edition (Paramount), which for my money is the best (unofficial) Trek movie since Kirk and Co. saved the whales. Or if you’re all Trekked out, the folks at Eclipse are releasing their latest box set, Eclipse Series 16: Alexander Korda’s Private Lives, which includes four high-spirited big-screen peeks into the lives of Henry VIII, Catherine the Great, Don Juan, and Rembrandt. And finally, Criterion’s releasing John Huston’s beloved “late” film Wise Blood (Criterion), one of the last “great” Huston films I still have yet to see. This of course would make it a key candidate for a Reviews by Request column except for oh wait.

This week’s TV on DVD slate is highlighted by the release of The Dana Carvey Show (Universal). Despite airing only eight episodes before getting the axe, this series has a cult following among TV fans. In fact, I’d be tempted to call Carvey a genius for surrounding himself with such promising talents as then up-and-comers Stephen Colbert, Steve Carell, Robert Smigel, and Charlie Kaufman, if not for the fact that he was also responsible for The Master of Disguise. Also this week, Seth Macfarlane’s Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy (Fox, also Blu-Ray).

In Blu-Ray only news, today brings the release of Star Trek: The Original Motion Picture Collection (Paramount), which collects all six of the original cast movies in one spiffed-up Blu-Ray Collection. And Paramount’s got plenty of comedy hitting stores as well, with Black Sheep (Paramount), Major League (Paramount), Wayne’s World (Paramount), Wayne’s World 2 (Paramount), and Without a Paddle (Paramount) on the way. Also this week: CSI Season 1 (Paramount), Force 10 from Navarone (Fox), and The Grudge (Sony).

Finally, our Synopsis of the Week takes us to the world of kiddie animation, with the four-part Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 25th Anniversary Edition, Season 7, available today in four parts from Lionsgate. Dig this crazy premise:

“Mutated into anthropomorphic fighting machines when they fall into the sewer at a young age, four turtles--Michelangelo, Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael--have been trained in the martial arts by the sewer-dwelling Hamato Yoshi. Now, they fight crime in New York City, using their ninja skills as well as the aid of news reporter April O'Neil to counter the efforts of their enemy, Shredder. In this collection of the first six episodes from the 1987-96 animated series’ seventh season, the Turtles tangle with both natural and man-made elements while on adventures involving a massive tidal wave, melting glaciers, and the Eiffel Tower.”

Wow, who thinks of this stuff? And whoever thought it would play to kids?

Transported: The Jason Statham Think Piece

John Constantine — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 04:00:00 GMT

I had traveled half-way across the country to spend some quality time with my father. We were drinking Tomintoul scotch whiskey in his Colorado cabin. It was snowing outside and we were quiet, watching a movie, entranced. I turned to my dad and shared with him the undeniable truth I had gleaned from the film: "Transporting is the greatest job on earth." He sipped his drink, reflected on his years of wisdom, and nodded: "Yes. Yes it is."

If you're unfamiliar with Luc Besson's Transporter series — or wonder why a father and son would spend a portion of their few, precious hours together watching a movie about a guy and his car — its appeal can be summed up in two words: Jason Statham. The titular star doesn't make transporting look easy, of course. Adhering to a strict moral code while transporting goods for less-than-reputable businessmen is taxing. The guy has to make BMWs perform stunts that would confound a physicist. Cars just don't move like that, and if you're carting around a petite young woman in the trunk, as a transporter often does, you've got to factor in her continued survival as a goal. Plus, the job keeps you so busy — maintaining your pristine black suit and kicking the crap out of nameless thugs — that you don't get much of a chance to enjoy your secret seaside villa. (Incidentally, The Transporter has five named thugs in its credit list — Thugs 1 through 3, Little Thug, and Giant Thug — but Statham seems to brutalize quite a few poor, uncredited thugs, as well.) And getting your work finished in a timely manner is complicated by your nagging sense of honor. Human trafficking? Crap, you can't transport when you know that's going down. A wan model, wearing nothing but an unbuttoned nursing uniform and two uzis, kidnaps the rich toddler you're driving to school? Shit, doesn't look like you're punching out early today. And with all that going on, when does Statham find the time to sculpt his guns?

This is what you think about when you experience Jason Statham movies. You ask the big questions. The biggest of which is: why the hell can't I stop watching him?

Take 2006's Crank and its sequel, Crank: High Voltage, which opens this Friday. That a sequel to Crank even exists is a testament to Statham's rising star power: the original Crank ended with Statham's character falling umpteen-hundred feet from a helicopter, landing on a car, then bouncing onto the ground and dying. (Poster tagline for new film: "He was dead, but he got better.")

Crank is one of the worst movies I've ever seen in my life, a brutishly stupid set-piece pileup that finds Statham getting maimed by an army of racial stereotypes. Statham's character, hit-man Chev Chelios, has been injected with the poisonous "Beijing Cocktail" and therefore needs to maintain a constant stream of adrenaline running through his system or he'll die. The plot, in Statham's own words, is: "Run, run, fucking run. I do not stop." It features a sex scene between Statham's and Amy Smart's characters that's (I think) supposed to be funny: when Chelios feels himself flagging at a bus stop, his only choice is to have street-sex with Smart, on a mailbox in front of a gaggle of picture-taking Japanese tourists. It's about as titillating as a porta-john. I couldn't look at mailboxes for a week, I was that embarrassed for them. But now, when I see trailers for Crank: High Voltage, which actually manages to look stupider in two minutes than Crank does in eighty, I think, "Hmm. Yes. I cannot wait to see it. I needed plans for Friday night and thankfully they have presented themselves. Thank you, Mr. Statham."

Perhaps it helps that Statham appears to feel much like I would, if forced to stimulate sex with Amy Smart in front of a large group of strangers: slightly disgusted, but willing to get the job done. Speaking about a public-sex scene in the Crank sequel (we can only imagine), Statham said, "Trying to do an aggressive sex scene is quite difficult, especially in a public place with a crowd of screaming extras with their little camera phones going click-click, taking pictures of your pasty white ass." Statham is the action-star who isn't afraid to tell it like it is, or insult his own ass cheeks.

But where the hell did this sort of self-denigrating hero come from? The twenty-first century rebirthed the marquee action star, but today's dominant, male-fantasy models are a far cry from their Reagan-era forebears. The big-muscle, low-vocabulary Schwarzeneggers and Stallones have given way to the sad, silent, and speedy Matt Damons and Daniel Craigs, intelligent action peddlers who — off-screen — deplore the violence they peddle. Statham doesn't play in their league, though; he's a C-lister. In some ways, he's closer to the Clinton-era, thick-skulled, martial-artist-as-actor tradition of Seagal and Van Damme, but that lineage doesn't quite fit him either; though Statham's acting has never won an Oscar, and his American accent has been derided, he looks like Orson Welles next to the Muscles from Brussels.

Jason Statham's early life seems as oddball and awesome as some of his roles. The son of a lounge singer and a dancer, he was on Britain's National Diving squad for twelve years, which led work modeling for the French Connection. To bankroll his scuba-diving hobby, he hustled perfume and jewelry on London street corners. This, plus his modeling and his martial-arts training, led him to his acting debut in Guy Ritchie's hipster-faves Lock, Stock, & Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch at the turn of the century. He played one-named roles, guys called Bacon and Turkish, swarthy Cockney con men who spent their onscreen time doing everything to avoid violence, not dole it out. But how did he go from skinny, balding Brit spouting witticisms to becoming the Transporter? And why do I like him so much as the Transporter?

Let's be honest. Statham's never as cool as Craig, but no one can be. No man has that many smooth things to say and, even if they did, no random woman on a beach is going to respond when you say them. He's never as collected as Damon, but Jason Bourne is a government-made super-spy. Chev Chelios doesn't jump off a bridge because it's the strategic maneuver he's been trained to take. He jumps off a bridge because, well, that's about the only choice he has. He's hassled and busy, annoyed by the demands of survival, but will do whatever it takes to survive.

Maybe it's that hint of everyman exasperation that makes Statham so irresistible, that, counterintuitively, makes his most outsized exploits (flipping luxury sedans onto moving trains, etc.) seem plausible. When Statham's interrupted while transporting, or he's given a drug that's going to make his heart explode, he responds with a begrudging sigh. A rolling of the eyes. God, why did it have to be today? I have things to do! That hint of reality establishes that for all his toughness, Jason Statham is One Of Us. If I gave up carbs and worked out eighteen hours a day, he suggests, I, too, could live his golden life. And if I did, I would feel about life the way his characters feel. (There are differences, I suppose. I, for one, would gently caress Ms. Smart in the comfort and safety of the mail truck.)

I was wrong. Transporting isn't the greatest job on earth. Being Jason Statham is.

Trailer Review: Taken

Paul Clark — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 17:00:00 GMT

Of the dozens of Luc Besson productions that have come out over the past decades, Banlieue 13 (released here as District B13) was one of the better ones, due in no small part to the stylishly-directed action scenes courtesy of first-timer Pierre Morel. Morel’s follow-up Taken, which has already been released elsewhere in the world, shows similar potential as a high-octane thriller. The premise looks like an alpha-male-friendly cross between Ransom and 24, yet I liked the way the trailer actually concentrates on setting up that premise instead of simply cutting to the chase, so to speak. Of course, it helps to have Liam Neeson at the center of the story, as his tall, forceful presence and authoritative baritone voice give his character credibility in a way that most actors couldn’t. But I also liked the way the trailer ended- rather than building to a crescendo of thrills, it pulls back, taking time for an obvious but effective response from the kidnappers. Taken may be nothing more than a Euro-inflected thrill ride, but if the trailer is any indication, it could be a highly entertaining one.

DVD Digest for December 2, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 15:00:00 GMT

This week, the big studios continue to roll out their summer releases, and the holiday DVD cash grab continues.

DVD of the Week: While it certainly isn’t the most revered movie getting a DVD release this week, I’d say that the new Criterion Collection edition of Sam Fuller’s White Dog is almost certainly the biggest DVD news. A controversial indictment of violence and racism, Fuller’s adaptation of Romain Gary’s story was withheld from theatrical release in 1982 due to its subject matter and violence, which essentially killed Fuller’s career in the U.S. Now, after more than a quarter of a century, White Dog is finally getting a home video release for the first time, in Fuller’s original “uncut” version. Criterion has included a handful of special features on this DVD, but really- isn’t the fact that the film is out there for everyone to see enough?

This week’s recent releases coming to DVD include: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (Disney, also Blu-Ray), the second installment of the C.S. Lewis-penned fantasy series; James McAvoy and Angelina Jolie in Wanted (Universal, also Blu-Ray); Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly’s sibling rivalry writ large in Step Brothers (Sony, also Blu-Ray); Mulder and Scully’s return to the big screen in The X-Files: I Want to Believe (Fox, also Blu-Ray); Ice Cube in The Longshots (Weinstein Company), a film by Fred Durst; and Bam Margera Presents: Where the #$&% Is Santa? (Warner, also Blu-Ray), a title I’d say speaks for itself.

Aside from White Dog, the highlights of the week’s classics on DVD are: The Day The Earth Stood Still Special Edition (Fox, also Blu-Ray), a tie-in with the upcoming remake, featuring numerous new extras; and Casablanca Ultimate Collector’s Edition (Warner, also Blu-Ray), which is basically the same old edition in a snazzy new package.

Only one major TV on DVD release, but it’s a doozy: Saturday Night Live: The Complete Fourth Season (Universal).

Finally, plenty of Blu-Ray only releases this week. There’s Mike Myers telling the same half dozen jokes again and again in Austin Powers Collection (Warner)! The Christmas mayhem double feature of Home Alone (Fox) and Jingle All the Way (Fox)! A double dose of Luc Besson with La Femme Nikita (Sony) and Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc (Sony)! The first installment of the would-be X-Files movie franchise, The X-Files: Fight the Future (Fox), coincidentally released the same day as the DVD of the second movie! And finally, the perennial IMDb favorite and TNT standby, The Shawshank Redemption (Sony)!

Comic Book Movies Go Parisian

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 14:45:00 GMT

Let it never be said that the European film industry is so arty that it doesn't know a cash cow when one comes rambling by. In fact, Europe's reputation as a bastion of filmic integrity rests largely on the fact that, as a rule, only the best of their films are exported to the U.S.; we rarely see their big dumb moneymakers, which, in the Old World as the New, tend to be noisy action pictures, dopey romances and lowest-common-denominator comedies. Regardless of the assumptions some people make about Euro-film, producers over there aren't banking on a new Pasolini to pay for their winter vacation.

Witness the birth of Europa-Glenat. A brand-new amalgam of Luc Besson's powerhouse film production company EuropaCorp and the French comic book giant Editions Glenat, the new company -- headquartered in Paris and headed by Besson's right-hand woman, Eleanore de Prunele -- was formed after both companies saw the gargantuan box office business done by superhero movies in America over the last half-decade. Their initial deal calls for a straight 50/50 split on television and film developments based on Editions Glenat properties and and exclusive first-rights deal similar to that of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Live-action films of properties like Voyageur and Vinci are planned, but much of the production money may be sunk into animation, which traditionally has a larger adult audience in Europe than it does in the U.S.

We're looking forward to seeing some of the Europa-Glenat products (Vinci in particular has loads of potential), but we urge both parties to stay very far away from American comics companies' conception of European superheroes. Believe us, Mr. Bresson, no one is waiting eagerly for an El Aguila or Olympian movie.

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Jailbait Cinema: 16 Films That Make Us Nervous (Part One)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 22 May 2008 20:00:00 GMT

If we all hit puberty overnight on our 21st birthdays, American life would be a helluva lot less complicated. But, as the recent Miley Cyrus “back-gate” scandal revealed, teenage sexuality is a topic that America doesn’t want to think about, even as it just can't seem to stop thinking about it.

On the one hand, most of us had (or at least thought about) sex in high school...on the other hand, once we’re adults, we’re all supposed to conveniently forget our memories and fantasies of adolescent lust. On the one hand, sex education is viewed as promoting underage promiscuity...but on the other hand, abstinence-only education tends to lead to a lot of unwanted pregnancy, since teenagers somehow figure out how to have sex even without classroom lectures about condoms. On the one hand, innocent teachers, day care workers, 19-year-olds with 17-year-old girlfriends and that 6-year-old boy who smacked a female classmate on the butt have all been branded for life as sexual offenders based on false or flimsy charges in hysterical witch hunts to “protect the children” at all costs...on the other hand, research indicates 20-25% of girls and 5-15% of boys in the U.S. experience some form of molestation at the hands of adults, the Catholic Church ignored its own institutional abuse scandals and the international sex trade in young flesh is thriving.

Clearly, we’re a little conflicted about the whole sex thing. Sure, we’re all shocked and disgusted by those creeps on To Catch A Predator...but somebody out there is watching Gossip Girl, sneaking peeks at Barely Legal magazine, lusting after Zac Efron and buying sexy cheerleader outfits from the Frederick's of Hollywood catalogue...and it’s not all just teens and predators. In fact, if we here at the Screengrab didn’t know better, we’d almost think Americans fetishize taboos instead of just being honest about them, leading to some pretty screwy behavior...AND the following list of films that reside in that dangerous grey area between sexual initiation and exploitation.

LOLITA (1962 & 1997)

Of course, no list of jailbait cinema would be complete without the grandmother of them all, or this previous Screengrab post on the screen adaptations of Nabokov's novel.

TAXI DRIVER (1976)

The best joke in Martin Scorsese’s masterful meditation on violence and alienation is when Robert De Niro’s Travis Bickle is turned into a hero for ‘rescuing’ Jodie Foster’s teenage prostitute by gunning down her pimps and johns; the best joke outside Taxi Driver is that a lot of critics actually believed Scorsese was being sincere in his depiction of the event. More than one film writer, including a few who should have know better, saw in the movie’s chaotic ending an endorsement of vigilantism, a baffling interpretation that came back to haunt Scorsese – who clearly couldn’t have been more taken aback by this turn of events – when realities like the assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan and the saga of subway shooter Bernard Goetz impinged on the fantasy of his film. The notion that Bickle is any kind of a hero is subverted at every turn: his diary is filled with racism and paranoia, his targeting of lowlifes and criminals only happens when he’s frustrated in his attempt to assassinate a politician; ordinary people can’t spend more than a few minutes in his presence without thinking he’s crazy; and even his targeting of Iris’ pimp (as with his targeting of presidential candidate Charles Palatine) is motivated as much by sexual jealousy as it is any kind of desire for justice. Travis is rightly appalled by the menu of sexual acts Iris will perform when read to him by the pimp Sport, and he does seem to have some genuine concern for her well-being, but he’s as oblivious to his own sexual desire for her as he is the impropriety of taking a date to a porno theater. Iris herself treats Bickle like he’s from another planet, and the film’s crowning irony comes at the end, when Travis, a marginalized psychotic only saved from suicide by a redemptive bloodbath and only saved from being a spree killer by his fortuitous choice of victim, receives a letter from Iris’ parents, filled with gratitude for having saved their daughter. It’s certain that if Travis ever took up the Steensmas’ invitation to visit them on their farm, they’d peg him for a maniac within seconds, but it’s the intricate chain of happenstance that turns a maniac into a hero which forms part of the genius of Taxi Driver – and totally upends Travis and Iris’ ‘relationship’ in a way no other jailbait movie has managed.

MANHATTAN (1979)

Woody Allen’s lovely, funny Manhattan is to movies about jailbait-chasing creeps what Citizen Kane is to, er, movies not about jailbait-chasing creeps. Mariel Hemingway earned an Oscar nomination for her performance as Tracy, the high school paramour of Woody’s Isaac Davis, and the Wood-Man himself got a nod from the Academy for his light, adept screenplay. So successful was Manhattan as a breezy, skillful romantic comedy that hardly anyone got creeped out by the fact that Woody’s character was technically committing statutory rape; when he explained “She's 17. I'm 42 and she's 17. I'm older than her father; can you believe that? I'm dating a girl wherein I can beat up her father”, he wasn’t being grammatical, but he was at least being really funny and self-deprecating. Those were the qualities that let us overcome our moral compunctions about what was really happening in the movie, and ignore the fact that, when Isaac tries to convince Tracy not to go away for six months to act with a theater group, he’s actually trying to talk her out of leaving him just long enough to be legal when she comes back. It was all very amusing, and even redeeming when he makes the ‘mature’ decision to start seeing Diane Keaton’s Mary Wilkie instead. Of course, all good things must come to an end, and the plot of Manhattan, one of the few times a Hollywood movie allowed us to not be utterly skeezed out by a middle-aged man jumping into the sack with a 17-year-old, took on a whole different dimension when the Soon-Yi Previn scandal broke. The prospect of a real-life Woody, then in his mid-50s, carrying on an illicit affair with a girl barely in her 20s was, somehow, much less appealing and light than a fictional Woody carrying on with a teenage girl, and all the worse that he was still married and the girl was his adopted daughter. For moviegoers, the worst thing about the scandal is that it’s made Manhattan almost impossible to watch without feeling an edge of ickiness it hadn’t previously possessed.

GHOST WORLD (2001)

Jailbait all-star Thora Birch’s performance as Enid Coleslaw in Ghost World is well-played on a number of levels: as we showed in our Girl Geeks list a few weeks back, she appealed to audiences (especially the, uh, male members thereof) because of her intelligence, hipness, cynicism and what seemed to be a wisdom beyond her years. But the other edge of the blade was the fact that for all her toughness and sophistication, she was still a high school girl. She was vulnerable and emotionally fragile and bound to get herself into situations she couldn’t handle. When she first encounters Steve Buscemi’s sad-sack loser Seymour, she toys with him the way she does her bewildered peer Josh; but when she gets to know him, she discovers that he’s as bitter, resentful, and out of step with the mainstream world as she is. They begin to develop a deep friendship based on the things they mutually hate (hey, there are worse things on which to base a relationship), but the astonishing thing about the way things develop between Enid and Seymour is that it’s an almost total inversion of the normal jailbait romance. Almost from the beginning, we sense that somehow, the two are going to end up in bed together, but unlike in most such movies, where no matter how much the writers try to pretty it up with the language of love, it’s still a predatorial relationship where the man has all the power, in Ghost World, we feel just as sorry for Seymour as we do for Enid. They’re both out of their depth, and as much as we like them both and are glad they’ve found each other, we know it can only end in disaster and we almost beg them not to hook up. When they do, we can tell it’s the beginning of the end for Seymour – and sure enough, he disappears from the film soon after, leaving Enid more vulnerable than she’s ever been. Because of this sense of sadness and loss, it’s one of the truest portrayals of such relationships ever put on film.

INNOCENCE (2004)

One of the principal allures of cinema has always been the way it affords its audience a chance to peek in on activities that would normally go unseen. However, this sort of voyeurism can occasionally feel like a curse when it confronts people with images they aren’t comfortable seeing. So it is with Innocence, a strange yet somehow magical film about a remote boarding school for young girls. Sequestered from the world, the girls are free to live and play without a single male gaze being cast upon them, which makes for the movie’s most fascinating conundrum- by showing us this hidden world founded upon the girls not being seen, director Lucile Hadzihalilovic forces us to deal with the question of why we’re so uncomfortable seeing them this way. Hadzihalilovic (wife of Irreversible director Gaspar Noé) doesn’t shy away from some potentially controversial images- a group of prepubescent girls swimming, a bathing teenager staring at her still-developing nude body in the mirror- which played a large part in the film being dismissed by many critics as fodder for the raincoat crowd. Yet Hadzihalilovic knows exactly what she’s doing, and this becomes obvious in the film’s final reel when we discover that the girls’ dance lessons are designed to train them for nightly performances the school puts on for shadowy male benefactors. That this revelation coincides with the beginning of the girls’ sexual development is deliberate, as Hadzihalilovic suddenly re-introduces men back into the lives of the girls just at the time they would begin paying them serious attention. With this final twist of the knife, Innocence asks whether the loss of the girls’ innocence is merely part of nature, or if others force it upon them, and Hadzihalilovic wisely leaves it for us to decide.

THE PROFESSIONAL (1994)

Luc Besson's violent fantasy about a hit man (Jean Reno) who takes in an orphaned twelve-year-old (Natalie Portman) and tutors her in the art of murder may go farther than any other commercial Hollywood movie in blatantly eroticizing a preteen girl. Other actresses not much older than Portman was here have played girls who aroused inappropriate feelings in older men; Portman, with her perfect little features set off by a Louise Brooks haircut and something around her neck that makes her look gift-wrapped, is treated as an object, or a pet, who first begs to be taken in by Leon the professional, and then (in a scene that was first cut from the American prints) begs him to make love to her. How did Besson get away with this? Partly by casting Jean Reno, who's a whiz at holding the camera while signaling that his pilot light has long since gone out, so you can feel confident that he'll stoically decline her entreaties. (Before she showed up, his best friend was a plant.) And partly by the black humor scenes of Leon teaching his little soul mate to become a killer, so that if you object to the film on moral grounds, you're liable to become dizzy from not being able to decide where to begin. It seems a little odd to complain about the unrequited, consensual pedophilia if you have no problems with the violence, but complaining about the violence just makes you feel like a square. The Professional is a truly outrageous movie, but it's extremely (and self-protectively) calculated in its outrageousness.

For more jailbait: Part Two, Part Three

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Leonard Pierce, Paul Clark, Phil Nugent

Afternoon Deal Report: A Fitting Tribute to Hasbro's Tradition of Quality

Peter Smith — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 17:20:00 GMT

Dennis Quaid and Channing Tatum have joined the cast of G.I. Joe. This seems apt, given Tatum's startlingly realistic face.

Julianne Moore will star in the supernatural thriller Shelter.

After (ahem) a monstrous opening, Cloverfield has dropped 68% at the box office. Course, when you're up against an aesthetic triumph like Meet the Spartans, which made $18 million last weekend. . .

Crash is becoming a series on Starz. That's the ensemble drama Crash, not the Cronenberg flick about car-fucking, unfortunately.

Luc Besson's next project will be a three-film adaptation of Aventures, a beloved French comic about a novelist in World War I-era Paris.

Revisiting Diva

Peter Smith — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 18:00:00 GMT

Diva may have been the first foreign-language film I ever saw. I don't remember well enough to say for sure, but I do recall that it shared space with The Tin Drum and Mephisto on my hometown video store's shelf of foreign films. (When I say shelf, I mean that literally — the entire collection amounted to less than a dozen videotapes.) When I was sixteen, Diva's vision of a Parisian mailman who rides around the city on a motorbike, chased by thugs and hanging out with a waif who shoplifts jazz records, seemed impossibly hip. Just re-released in a new print by Rialto Pictures, it now seems slow and sedate compared to Paul Greengrass and Tony Scott's recent films.

In the '80s, Jean-Jacques Beineix was lumped in with Luc Besson and Leos Carax as one of the creators of the 'cinéma du look.' Diva had the misfortune of being ahead of its time for about six months, until MTV went on the air. Coincidentally, Blade Runner, made around the same time, is also being re-released now. The two films share several points of contact, especially a nostalgia for film noir and an indulgence in style that manifests itself in blue-tinged cinematography and impossibly detailed production design.

After initial failure, Blade Runner has gone down as a classic; Diva is largely a footnote in French cinema history. Yet Ridley Scott was essentially an Anglo proponent of the 'cinéma du look'; he just happened to be working from better source material and with more talented collaborators. Diva's 'exercise in style' sensibility still has its merits — the motorbike subway chase scene is exhilarating, and the characters' lofts are spaces to luxuriate in — but as a narrative, its crime story seems unwieldy and out of place. (With Collateral and Miami Vice, Michael Mann has finally accomplished what Beineix and Besson had often set out to do.) I'd rather see a film about the same people and places in which they sat around smoking cigarettes, taking nude photos and talking about opera rather than throwing awls at each other and tossing thugs down elevator shafts.

Diva has often been cited as a case of style over substance, but now that twenty-six years have passed, it's clear that Beineix had something on his mind: the conversion of art, as represented by opera singer Cynthia Hawkins' refusal to record her voice, into a commodity. The late French critic Serge Daney castigated Diva as an example of the influence of advertising upon cinema, but both media have moved on since 1981. The 'cinema du look' finally produced a masterpiece, Leos Carax's 1991 Les Amants de Pont-Neuf, but by that time, Beineix's career had entered free fall. Luc Besson figured out how to beat Hollywood at its own game; Beineix's films could never pass for American genre fare in multiplexes, as Besson's The Fifth Element did. His follow-up to Diva, The Man in the Gutter, was an interesting, ambitious failure that resembles Rainer Werner Fassbinder's Querelle and early '80s Francis Ford Coppola. I haven't seen any of Beineix's subsequent films; few Americans have.

Diva doesn't fit comfortably into the 'classic French film revival' slot that Rialto has created so successfully for itself. I don't think the middle-aged or elderly crowd that supports Jean-Pierre Melville re-releases would go for it, and I'm not sure that contemporary teenagers would find anything attractive about its quasi-punk posturing. But I'm thankful for the opportunity to test whether this vision that helped define the '80s has stood the test of time. — Steve Erickson