
Sometimes you get thrown off-schedule by long lines, late starts, transit problems, whatever, and you go for a wild card, or at least a name you recognize. I saw that Page Eight was directed by David Hare—who I temporarily forgot wrote The Reader, my most hated film since Signs, and The Vertical Hour, an overwrought, post-Iraq war play for which I paid too much to see Julianne Moore yelling ineffectually in on Broadway—and I knew who that was, somehow, so I went for it.

I really enjoy me a loose ensemble drama-comedy—they mostly come in teen-type films like Empire Records, Can’t Hardly Wait or American Pie, just a lot of promising actors pairing off in interesting combos with low stakes. I enjoy that. Ten Year follows a decent group of 28-year-olds hitting their 10-year high school reunion.

Imagine making a movie that got some wrongfully convicted people out of prison, but not in enough time to fix the movie? That’s what happened to Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky, whose Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory was finished on August 15. Four days later, the three men they’ve been following for nearly twenty years who’d been convicted of killing three young boys were released from prison.
Whit Stillman hasn’t made a movie since 1998—The Last Days of Disco with Kate Beckinsale and Chloe Sevigny—which I was able to see at Empire Bedford, that’s how long ago.
I’ve always appreciated Todd Solondz—I wouldn’t call myself a fan, exactly, because even I don’t hate people that much—but for a guy who riles up such rage, what he’s doing is always interesting, nothing more so than Palindromes, in which eight different actors, including a dude and Jennifer Jason Leigh, played the lead character.

Always nice to start your festival with a clusterfuck—Alexander Payne’s much-anticipated George Clooney-starring Oscar bait The Descendants came at a very early-seeming 9am, until it didn’t start until 10am, meaning over 500 people, many with entitlement issues, were furiously Tweeting their outrage and, in the case of the British man next to me, calling his editor to announce that they must do a story on this. (I was happy to stand next to Stephanie Zacharek from Movieline for awhile and hear people ask her what she saw at Venice. Sigh.)
Afghan - directed and produced by Pardis Parker
Discrimination of the Dead - directed and produced by Angus Swantee
Like Father - directed by Jesse Harley and produced by Chris Turner
Pawnshop - directed by Andrew Bush and produced by Angus Swantee
Rhonda's Party - directed by Ashley McKenzie and produced by Nelson MacDonald
Super Science - directed by Joel MacKenzie and produced by Mark Purdy
Treevenge - directed by Jason Eisener and produced by Rob Cotterill
The Wake of Calum MacLeod - directed by Marc Almon and produced by Nona MacDermid

An improbably PG rock movie, Janie Jones stars Abigail Breslin in the title role as the long-lost daughter of Ethan Brand (Alessandro Nivola, who does great rock star). When her crackhead mother (Elisabeth Shue) abandons her in Little Rock, Ethan’s stuck with a vibe-harshing 13-year-old on tour. Then his band is dropped by its label, tour support is pulled and the rest of them bail, leaving Ethan to finish up this former arena, now dive bar string of dates alone. But wouldn’t you know talent is inherited and Janie’s a gifted singer-songwriter herself? (Breslin does all of her own singing—and none of her own guitar-playing—and it’s awesome. The music was written by Mercury Prize nominee Gemma Hayes.) It’s even tamer than Almost Famous, but it’s not about The Music, it’s about Fatherhood. It reminds me of one of those Disney movies about sports. I liked it.
Now that the festival is past the halfway point, to say fatigue is setting in is not quite right—it’s seeping, it’s blanketing, it’s practically a plague. People are falling asleep regularly, and if you think you’re fighting against it, that you’re young and vital and alive, well, wait until a middle-aged man’s sweet, rhythmic breathing is two seats away from you. Close your eyes once and you’re a goner.
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