DVD releases for June 2009

Ten of the more interesting DVD releases from last month (originally published on In Review Online):

Pick Up the Mic (2005) directed by Alex Hinton
First pick of the month is one for those celebrating Pride. It has taken four years, but this independent documentary about the queer hip-hop scene is finally out on DVD. The fact that gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people are infiltrating every aspect society is thankfully taken for granted, but in other cases it is an extraordinary act of bravery and confrontation. Such is homohop, where being out means challenging the homophobia that permeates the scene. Pick Up the Mic profiles over 17 hip-hop artists, their music and what it means to be an out MC. Standing up against the stereotype of being ‘gay’ and the stereotype of being a hip-hop artist, all these individuals are forging a new road. Pick up the Mic is a powerful celebration of diversity.

Last Year at Marienbad (1961) directed by Alain Resnais
At long last, Alain Resnais elusive and mesmerizing film Last Year in Marienbad is available domestically on DVD, and available in a very big way. Criterion packages a restored transfer and all the extras you might expect available on Blu-Ray, or just a plain ol’ 2 DVD set. I still find it shocking (and further proof we are moving backwards) that Alain Robbe-Grillet’s surreal script was nominated for Best Original Screenplay for the 1963 Academy Awards. (Just as amazing is that it was beat by Divorce – Italian Style.) The film was incredibly controversial at the time with most critics finding it pretentious and incomprehensible. Time has been kind to the film as it slowly transitioned from being considered one of the worst films ever made to one of the best. Having just seen the film six months ago during a Robbe-Grillet retrospective, I can attest that its enigmatic narrative and haunting visuals are as cutting edge now as they were 30 years ago.

Waltz With Bashir (2008) directed by Ari Folman
Equally as haunting as Last Year in Marienbad but immeasurably more relevant is Ari Folman’s memoir to the 1982 Lebanon War, Waltz With Bashir. Chasing after a phantom, Folman goes on a personal journey in search of the memories of the war he has lost. Painstakingly animated at a rate of 4 minutes per month by a 10-person crew, the result is visually unbelievable. As a person who watched a fair amount of alternative animation, I was completely blown away by the look of the film. Being snubbed at the Academy Awards in favor of the Japanese tearjerker Departure was a huge, if not predictable, injustice to most. Waltz With Bashir confronts the very personal and subconscious effects of war that we should all be thinking about. Experimental composer Max Richter contributes an engrossing soundtrack.

Une Femme Mariee (1964) directed by Jean-Luc Godard
Tapping into what seems an endless mountain of films, comes yet another elusive Jean-Luc Godard film. Personally I can’t keep up, although Une Femme Mariee (A Married Woman) hardly emerged out of nowhere. Made between Band of Outsiders and Alphaville, Une Femme Mariee is at the heart of Godard’s most influential filmmaking period. As you can guess from the title, the film centers on a woman and the various men that revolve around her. Originally titled A Married Woman: Fragments of a Film Shot in 1964 in Black and White, the film follows this mode, pulling together vignettes that make up a less-than-straightforward narrative.

Evening’s Civil Twilight in Empires of Tin (2009) directed by Jem Cohen
Jem Cohen is an experimental filmmaker that you really don’t expect to find on DVD. Maybe the times are a changin’. Empires of Tin is less a film and more of a performance. Commissioned by the Vienna International Film Festival, Empires utilizes film, live music and live narration for what he calls “a documentary musical hallucination.” Without a doubt, ‘Empires’ is a heavily theoretical project marrying the decline of the Habsburg Empire with the crumbling of our own American empire. But the performance is something completely unique and, until now, only witnessed by a handful of people worldwide. Furthermore, it is bolstered by an incredible group of musicians including Vic Chestnut, Guy Picciotto, and musicians from The Quavers and Silver Mt. Zion.

Henry Hills: Selected Films (1977- 2008)
Also in an experimental vein is this new compilation of Henry Hills’ videos. Associated with the Downtown improvisers and the “Language” poets of New York City, Hills is a mind-boggling visual innovator. Hunt down his frenetic 1985 fourteen minute Money on the web and you might be the first to plunk down your hard earned cash for a personal copy of this DVD.

The Seventh Seal (1957) directed by Ingmar Bergman
The most iconic foreign film of all time gets the extra special 21st century Criterion treatment. Well-loved and well-parodied, The Seventh Seal is timelessly allegorical. The well stocked Blu-Ray and DVD set includes: introduction by Bergman, commentary by Berman and Peter Cowie, documentary Bergman Island (2006), audio interview with Max von Sydow, 1989 tribute from Woody Allen, video filmography Bergman 101, an essay by Gary Giddins, and of coarse a restored high-def transfer that includes uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-Ray.

Kaidan (2007) directed by Hideo Nakata
If there is a king of contemporary J-horror, it is Hideo Nakata. Ring (or Ringu if you prefer) brought with it a flood of remakes and formulaic imitations that all contained the elements of women and hair. With Kaidan Nakata takes a right turn with a period horror film in the tradition of Nobuo Nakagawa. It is a grand homage, not only to the origins of Japanese horror but also to classic Japanese cinema, referencing the austere and precise aesthetic not only of Nakagawa, but also masters like Kenji Mizoguchi and Masaki Kobayashi. Nakata pays tribute without parody creating a visually stunning experience with every frame. Although the most memorable elements of Kaidan may be the aesthetic, the remaining components render nothing less than an absorbing film.

The Strange One (1957) directed by Jack Garfein
A film lost to history until its uncelebrated release on DVD this month, The Strange One was Ben Gazzara’s first feature film, and, wow, is he young and handsome. Homoeroticism, hookers and a producer’s strong will seems to have sent this film down the road to no success when it was released in 1957. Put together by the Actor’s Studio in New York, The Strange One is a dark misanthropic look at the manipulative psychology of young men. Gazzara plays a ring leading bully who gets a young classmate expelled and wages an atmosphere of fear so others won’t squeal. Thankfully resurrected, The Strange One may have a second life 50 years after its release.

Hansel and Gretel (2007) directed by Yim Phil-sung
In the vein of Pan’s Labyrinth, Yim Phil-sung attempts to create a fairy tale for adults. When a young man is in a car accident, he wakes up only to be charmed by a young girl who takes him to her strange house. You brace for the worst when it becomes more than apparent that not all is well at the quaint cottage home. The overall style of Hansel and Gretel is absolutely lavish in its visual detail. Unfortunately, the narrative is a little lacking with weak writing and acting. The DVD is a Canadian release, but not too hard to find State side.

VOLTAIC, a Trylon preview

Perhaps it's a testament to how boring my life is, but there is nothing more exciting to me right now than the introduction of the Trylon Microcinema to the Twin Cities film scene. Birthed and groomed by Take-Up Production's Barry Kryshka, the Trylon offers something totally new for the cinema goer. A cinema on a small scale, it combines the best components of you local theater and the intimacy and comfort of your own home. The 50 plus seat space has two 35mm film projectors, one of the best digital setups in town, and plush rocker seats that are way more comfortable than my sofa. Last Wednesday the Trylon opened its doors to the public for the first time for an early Sound Unseen selection. Bjork fans, some unwittingly, got a sneak peak of the Trylon for a screening of Voltaic: The Volta Tour Live in Paris and Reykjavik. I love Bjork, but the star of the evening was the Twin Cities new microcinema.

The Trylon is located in the building on the northwest corner of 33rd Street and Minnehaha Avenue in south Minneapolis. Signage was one thing missing, so I was glad to see posters in the front window on the Minnehaha side—with the promise that there will be a more permanent sign soon—but I was even more thrilled to round the corner on the 33rd Street side, past the fish mural, and see the "Trylon Microcinema" mega-sign being painted on the wall right at that moment. Further proof that the Trylon is here to stay.

The interior of the space has undergone a major transformation. From a bare-bones space a few months ago, the Trylon has been built from scratch into a very respectable screening room. A platform was built, enclosing the two behemoth projectors, and a terraced floor for the fantastic seats that were procured from the Waconia 6. Although there are still some finishing touches to be done in the next couple of weeks, the change has been pretty incredible. Even though I was helping screw down rows two and three just a few days before the Voltaic screening, walking into the space with appropriate cinema lighting and the hub-bub of fellow patrons filling the room made me pretty giddy. I wanted to turn to all my fellow rocker-chair neighbors and introduce myself by way of enjoying the communal experience. But I didn't. I calmed down and decided not to creep everyone out.

Before <--------> After

Bjork has never come to Minneapolis, so Voltaic at the Trylon seemed like the second best option. (The closest I have ever come to a Bjork concert is when the Sugarcubes opened for PIL in Kansas City back in the day.) The program was presented by Sound Unseen, gearing up for their 10th edition this Fall. The bulk of the film was a complete live concert in Paris. She was accompanied on stage by a drummer, a keyboardist, two gadget guys (with very cool gadgets) and—the icing on the cake—a ten piece all female horn section! The trumpets, trombones, french horns and tuba added a dimension to the electronic music-making that was pretty impressive. She played songs spanning from Post to Volta. I was disappointed that she didn't play anything from Debut, and was also kind of waiting for "Oceanic" which would have been awesome with the horns, but whatever. Voltaic made me realize how long it had been since I listened to any Bjork and how much I love her music. I was incredibly jealous of the people in the crowd, dancing and singing aloud, doing all the the things that might get me kicked out of the Trylon on my first visit. But then I contemplated, gently rocking in my seat, just how expensive a ticket to see Bjork would be and then further contemplated just how expensive a ticket to see Bjork would be in Paris, and decided I was content with the 8 bucks I spend on my ticket and the dollar I spent on my soda.

Seeing Bjork perform is the draw, and a concert video should provide you with the best seat in the house. The frenetic editing, however, made me feel like I was watching the concert from a roller coaster. I was desperately trying to count how many horns there were on stage, but the camera would move or the shot would cut to another shot before I could count to ten. Someone in the editing room decided that if the music got really crazy, so should the editing. As if the various outfits weren't jarring enough, you had to deal with constantly being unable to focus on anything. The concert turned political with her encore of "Declare Independence" as much of the audience waving Tibetan flags. I couldn't help but wonder how much of that was staged. I would be glad to wave a Tibetan flag, but I don't exactly keep on in my pocket.

Post Paris romp was an excerpt from a much more subdued concert held in a church in Reykjavik. The ambiance and acoustics couldn't have been more different from the full-on production in Paris. Audience members stayed in there chairs, politely clapping when the song was fully over. Bjork also sported a more matronly look, staying very serious for the performance. Backed once again by her horn section, but also adding a chorus and a harpsichord to mix. The Reykjavik show offered an interesting contrast that reminded me of the beautifully staged Sigur Rós concerts in Heima. No screaming fans, just fellow countrymen sitting down to enjoy their cultural icons.

Bjork + Trylon = true love? Almost. Voltaic was screened from a DVD, and even though it looked great, I can't wait to hear the hum of those projectors. The Trylon is building up to its grand opening in July when six Buster Keaton films will be screened over three weekends starting July 17. All films will be accompanied with live music from the Dreamland Faces on accordion and singing saw. Excited? Hell yeah! And so are other people. The first screening is almost sold out, so buy your tickets soon!

Queer Takes at the Walker

Read my rundown of the Walker's film series Queer Takes in the Star Tribune here.

On the eve of Sacha Baron Cohen's blockbuster excuse to laugh at the gay guy comes a batch of films that not only acknowledges the audience's intelligence, but make the assumption that we are not homophobes. Crazy! The Walker's annual Pride Week film series begins tonight and runs through Thursday. Queer Takes: Standing Out starts out with a comedic bang and builds to the grand crescendo of a masterpiece. John Greyson's Fig Trees, screening Thursday night, is a work to behold. Visually stunning and cerebrally exciting, Fig Trees balances artistic experimentation with an authenticity to reality. It is completely unique and I can not stress enough that it is not to be missed. (It's free, for god's sakes.)

The Talkies with Guy Maddin

Last week marked the the fifth installment of The Talkies series (and the second to be featured at the Heights Theater in Minneapolis) with Guy Maddin and The Saddest Music in the World. Offering a live director commentary to a film is a brilliant idea, and one that has been well utilized with eclectic selections: Herschell Gordon Lewis and 2000 Maniacs, John Waters and Polyester (if you can imagine), George Romero and Night of the Living Dead, John Cameron Mitchell and Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and Thursday's Guy Maddin and The Saddest Music in the World. If you are a film geek, The Talkies presents the kind of production that is hard not to be excited about.

I missed John Cameron Mitchell and Hedwig in February, but there was no way I was going to miss Maddin and The Saddest Music. I've been a fan of Maddin's ever since I saw Twilight of the Ice Nymphs staring Shelley Duvall and Frank Gorshin. It's not exactly the most accessible film, but I still spent the two days I worked in a video store putting the DVD in the unsuspecting hands of customers. Since then I have worked my way back through his work and followed everything he has made since. It was almost too good to be true when the Walker hosted a dialogue and retrospective of Maddin's films in 2004, premiering The Saddest Music in the World. I was completely taken with this subversive stab at a straightforward narrative. I subsequently saw the film two more times theatrically and own the DVD which I have watched at least a few times. Have I admitted too much?

I've listened to my fair share of DVD commentaries, and more often than not will watch a DVD and turn right around and start the commentary if its available. This is the exact same tact of The Talkies: they provide a straightforward screening of the film, immediately followed by a screening with the director live. Maddin is no stranger to audio commentaries. The majority of his films on DVD contain fascinating commentaries that often include collaborator George Toles. The Saddest Music DVD, however, is one that doesn't contain a commentary but does have two 20 minutes featurettes that are perhaps even more revealing.

I bought tickets to both screenings in advance, and after a long day at work I considered skipping the first screening. I'm glad I didn't. The first surprise was the bonus of Maddin's The Heart of the World, a frenetic short film that nearly moves me to tears with its odd mix of humor, perversity and beauty. Like most things these-a-days, The Heart of the World is not that hard to find, but seeing it in the theater is really like nothing else. The second surprise was how much I found in The Saddest Music to revisit or discover. The film is rich in other-worldly detail and whip-cracking dialogue that I hadn't seen or heard for at least a couple years. It was definitely a good primer for the next screening.

Fortunately, the theater filled up a bit more for the second screening. I quickly got a Blizzard from the DQ next door and shuffled back in, noting Maddin in the lobby just hanging around talking to people. Maddin's personality is one you could probably intuit after seeing a few of his films: humble and polite, but wickedly funny with dry sarcasm and no filter. His delivery is so dry that you are never really sure whether to believe what he is saying or not.

Talkies coordinator Tim Massett introduced Maddin with little fanfare, and Maddin proceeded to explain what he was about to do (shoot from the hip was the feeling I got) as he tried to get comfortable on what looked like the most unstable chair someone could find. He admitted that he had recently sat down to re-watch The Saddest Music in preparation and indeed had some notes in case the whole improvising thing went south.

Instead of doing a commentary for The Heart of the World, Maddin had agreed to read the intertitles. Although there aren't many, they fly by at a break-neck speed and I noticed that Maddin was holding the microphone with both hands in concentration. But once he got to the end and the reverberation of "KINO KINO KINO" he was almost having as good of a time as the audience.

Maddin was sitting off to the right of the screen, slightly lit. Settling into to the film took a couple minutes with some pregnant pauses that made me a little nervous. But once Maddin got rolling telling stories and anecdotes about the movie, the flow went pretty well. One thing that I noticed right away was that it was counter intuitive to watch the film. Perhaps it was because I had just watch the film, but I spent almost the entire time watching Maddin as he spoke. And, much like a DVD commentary, there is little or no chance you would be able to hear the dialogue over the live commentary.

Maddin was incredibly free-wheeling, unspooling stories about how he met Isabella Rossellini and how the actor who played Gravillo the Great, Ross McMillan, had slept with his wife. When Maddin was at the Walker five years ago, interviewer and critic Elvis Mitchell sort of stole the show as Maddin receded, almost seeming shy. On his own, he was much more open and funny. Most of what he touched on about the film I had heard before, but I certainly didn't mind hearing again: Maria de Medeiros' issues with the temperature, the incredible inside set, and Rossellini's character being a form of Lon Chaney. It was his off-the-cuff remarks that really made the commentary interesting. When I was watching the film at the early screening I was making a mental note about how Gravello the Great looked like Hamburglar, with that big hat and huge eyebrows mimicking a mask, and ironically Maddin said the same thing: that there must have been some miscommunication with the costume designer and she somehow heard Hamburglar in reference to McMillam's character. I also enjoyed his story that about how he and Rossellini found their hands both in the same dogs mouth by chance, and his proclamation that the unspeakable 'c' word in his films is continuity.

The Talkies boasts the fact that the commentary is completely un-moderated. In theory, that is exactly the way it should be. But more than once throughout the evening I thought that there needed to be an open door for audience participation. Without acknowledging the fact that audience and director and film are in the same room, The Talkies verges on being very similar to the home viewing experience. That being said, I don't know how audience participation would work without some sort of moderation. During the first screening, there were moments in the film where I thought to myself, "Oh, I would like to ask him about that." or "I hope he talks about this." Perhaps there is a way to take questions from the audience during that first screening, organize them and present them to the director for the commentary.

Overall, Maddin vs. The Saddest Music in the World was more than worth my 20 bucks, and I will eagerly sign up for the next edition in the series. In a world where we blindly stumble into the multiplex, The Talkies is a new way to discover (or rediscover) a film and its director.

Kirby Dick's OUTRAGE

Check out my short review in the Star Tribune/Vita MN here (second billing to O'Horten.)

The Republican's are good at claiming the moral high ground, which is why it is so infuriating when one is exposed of the behaviors they demonize. The fact that conservative gays follow a trend of keeping it secret is simply a product of the political culture. The party line—hopefully one they are re-evaluating—is one that makes a 'gay Republican' an oxymoron. When they are a person of considerable political power, the is no limits to the deceit. Such is the subject of Kirby Dick's new documentary Outrage. The film follows the lead of Michael Rogers, who runs BlogActive—a site dedicated to outing politicians who have anti-gay voting record.

Part of me thinks that this is just generational. I would like to think once my generation starts gaining more political clout, that the homophobia will fall by the wayside. But of course, another part of me knows that one way conservatives can secure votes is through fear and hatred. It will be interesting to see how Charlie Crist's political ambitions pan out in light of the documentary.

The documentary is revealing, even if you too rolled your eyes when you heard Larry Craig's testimony that he "doesn't do those kinds of things." Kirby Dick has to be one of the most interesting documentary filmmakers working today. His last film tackling the absurdity of the film ratings board, "This Film is Not Yet Rated," was nothing short of hilarious, but he has also tackled subjects as diverse as Derrida and Bob Flanagan.

Camera Obscura: Live at the Cedar Cultural Center

My review of the Camera Obscura show at the Cedar a couple weekends ago is up on In Review Online. In a weekend where I went to three shows (Santigold, Holy Fuck and Camera Obscura), this one was the overall winner. I met up with fellow blogger and friend Joe who makes me feel a little more normal about my schizophrenic musical taste. (I'm pretty sure we were the only two people in the room who had been at Mastodon, Wolves in the Throne Room and Camera Obscura!) He also did a summery of the show here.

It was a good evening. All I wanted to say about the show I said here. In the photo on the left, Tracyanne is holding the awesome avocado maraca I mention in the review.

Home Movies - May

My picks for May are up on In Review Online: Home Movies - May. InRO's fearless leader, Sam, was in Cannes, so this week's is a double issue (to make up for all his slacking on Croisette.) Check out his coverage of Cannes as well as a new music podcast and a boatload of music and movie reviews.

The biggest news for May on the DVD front was the Criterion Imamura set which includes his career defining Pigs and Battleships, The Insect Woman and Intentions of Murder. I pre-ordered the set shortly after it was announce and have been working my way through the movies and the extras before I go back and watch them again. I'll offer my thoughts at some point, either individually or collectively.

I'm equally excited about Chris Marker's A Grin Without a Cat which I am going to pick up thanks to some birthday mad money. Not only does A Grin have re-watch value, but I will gladly pass this DVD around to friends. Unfortunately, the DVD is low on special features.

Check it all out here.

DRAG ME TO HELL + Dolsot Bibimbap + Guitar Hero = Happy Birthday

My perfect day? Pretty damn close. I don't get too worked up about birthdays but birthdays are an excellent excuse for selfish digressions.

Gift one: Drag Me to Hell
This year, May 29th was on a Friday, and I felt like films were opening just for me! And in my area of the world, that meant choosing between Up, Adoration, Rudo y Cursi, The Song of the Sparrows and Drag Me to Hell. Hidden within these choices is probably an excellent personality test: Which film do you most identify with? In my case, I am firmly, with no hesitation, a Drag Me to Hell girl. Equal parts guilty pleasure and sheer joyful entertainment, Drag Me to Hell was an excellent birthday gift.

Much has been made in the past few weeks about Sam Raimi's journey from cult horror hero to indie innovator to blockbuster salaryman. Whatever. Raimi marches to his own drum whether it is huge or small, great or schlocky. Ironically, Drag Me to Hell seems to be the amalgamation of all those things in the best possible way. If Drag Me feels like a return to Evil Dead, it is because the balance between scary, funny and completely offensive is perfect. But for better or worse, Drag Me has control and gloss that Raimi did not possess 28 years ago.

Raimi, fully aware of genre expectations, throws the handbook out the window. Scary things happen only at night? Forget it. Our poor heroine, Christine Brown, is taunted by demons during the day. Aren't you men tired of being the maniacal horror film menaces? Well, you can rest easy this time: it is an old lady who is turned into one of the creepiest characters you will ever have visit you in your dreams. Think horror is all about torture these days? Aw hell no. Raimi does more with mucus, maggots and nose bleeds than Eli Roth can shake baseball bat at. And lastly, don't be so friggin' serious! Let's have some kitten sacrifices, some crazy girl fights with biting (sans teeth) and hair pulling, and corpses that fall out of their coffin and spew embalming fluid all over the place. Yeah! And as for the good girl never dying...you're just going to have to check out the movie to find out about that one.

Gift two: Dolsot Bibimbap
Actually to be a little more precise: haemul pajeon, kimchi jeon, dolsot bibimbap and a big can of Sapporo beer at the best Korean Restaurant in the Twin Cities: Kings. If you live in the area and you haven't been to Kings, I suggest you go there as soon as you can. Don't let a strip mall in Fridley fool you: this place is a hidden gem. (Vegetarians beware: the wait staff will have a hard time not laughing when you ask for suggestions that do not have meat or seafood.)

Gift three: Guitar Hero III
I got a PS3 a while ago for Blu-Ray capabilities only. As much as I love playing video games with my nephew, I need another distraction like I need a swift kick to the head. So I have been resisting the game option that the PS3 offers (while silently perusing the video games at Target.) Best way to not feel guilty about playing video games? Receive them as a gift! My friends got me Guitar Hero III and NBA Live so I can get away from all those movies and join the real world occasionally. We spent a good part of the evening practicing "Barracuda" and "Talk Dirty to Me." Seriously fun and seriously funny. As for NBA Live, I am looking forward to deluding myself with a video game that Minnesota has a good NBA team.

Until next year (its a big one!), happy birthday to me.

Time for me to exit, TERMINATOR X-it

My halfhearted attempt to avoid summer blockbusters has been thwarted by the simple desire to have companions at the movies. Terminator Salvation won out two to one over Anvil, and I only shrugged my shoulders in protest. Leaving the film with a pulsing machine drone in my head, it was clear I made the right decision: Terminator might just be the best comedy of the summer.

I'm sure that I have seen all three Terminators prior to this one, but I sincerely forgot where we left off or the nuances of the narrative threads. John Connor is still alive, but momma's boy is having trouble, namely with those darn machines again. As the heartbeat of the resistance, Connor faces a new nemesis who is poised to challenge his living messiah status: prototype Marcus Wright, part death row villain, part Skynet machine. Connor might have the corner on the inspiring speeches, but Marcus is way, way more cool. Connor wants to be his friend, but Marcus is a machine! What is he to do? That's when he pulls out the cassette tapes and his vintage player-recorder circa 1985 and listens to his Mom's audio diaries just one more time in search of a clue. Salvation! Find Dad and kill the machines!

Christian Bale, wow, does he have some funny soliloquies. But what I like best is his new Corleone manner of talking. I know he was working on this in Batman, but by gosh, I think he has it down in Terminator. When he first confronts Marcus on his very obvious machine-ness, it was just like seeing Dubya confront Saddam Hussein while channeling Don Vito Corleone. Oscar winning material, my friends.

Taking a bite out of Bale's comedy routine is the burning apocalyptic aesthetic, that at moments, had me hoping that The Road would look as convincing. Like Oshima back in the day, McG has eliminated green from his pallet in Salvation (except for Kate Connor's eyes, that is.) And then there are the machines: very unemotional and very loud and my favorite part of the film by a long shot. I can't help rooting for the machines, especially when they are as crazy cool as the big one that shows up at the gas station.

Having just read an article about Ray Kurzweil (that went much better than me trying to read his book), I wondered how the Terminators fit into his singularity. Is the the future he envisions? I don't think so. I think his future is a little more optimistic. Mine is a little more pessimistic. If the machines have their way, we won't have a chance, especially against those shooting motorcycle ones.

If you are having a hard time taking me seriously, this is exactly how I felt watching Terminator Salvation. Yeah, yeah, I know, I know: it's not supposed to be serious. Well, don't tell that to Christian Bale. He will get mad. The high production values, big explosions, even bigger sounds (I think it is one of the loudest movies I have ever been to) are all good summer fun, but I think it takes itself maybe a tad too seriously. Lighten up on the melodrama, please.

I don't want to ruin it for anyone, but the joining of forces between Marcus Wright and John Connor may be the beginning of something very beautiful. After getting all worked up by seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger naked ala T-800, Marcus and John find a male bonding that few men will ever be able to understand. I am just sure that there was a pre-op kiss that was cut from the film, because you can just feel the love. Like John Connor says, what makes us human is the strength of our beating hearts. If you are listening, you are the resistance.

Interview with Louis Lapat: WIN OR LOSE - A SUMMER CAMP STORY

I always try to have a nose for the smaller films that get overlooked, but when the schedule was announced for MSPIFF, my objective was to find the biggest films in a bucket of small films. Hence, my lame excuse for passing over Win or Lose: A Summer Camp Story, a short documentary by Louis Lapat. I had already mapped out my plan for conquering MSPIFF when Louis contacted me about seeing and review his documentary. Although I was unable to make it to his film, he joined Daniel (from Getafilm) and I for our film goat gathering. Over a drink and a chat, Louis was kind enough to pass along a screener. We went our separate ways and I said that I would be in touch.

Embarrassingly, over a month later I finally got around to watching Win or Lose and I was pleasantly surprised. Like great things that come in small packages, Louis' short documentary, under an hour, is about as engaging as anything that is likely to come down the pipe. Win or Lose takes place at Camp Ojibwa in Wisconsin, an all boys summer camp that focuses on sports. The camp's trademark is a competition among teams called Collegiate Week. As one of the campers says of Collegiate Week, "There is winning and absolutely nothing." What starts out as a frat-boy testosterone driven narrative, slowly morphs into a sensitive and thought provoking real life drama.

Louis was kind enough to talk to me about MSPIFF, his film, summer camp, The Blues Brothers and what it takes to be a Ojibwa boy:

First of all, how did the screening at the Minneapolis St Paul International Film Festival go?
My whole experience at the film festival was very positive. My favorite part was meeting so many people in such a short period of time from the festival director Ryan Oestreich to local film bloggers such as yourself. For the screening, I was worried that I wouldn't have a huge crowd because the film was competing against some bigger films that night. Also, I had noticed that the festival was just beginning to hand out programs two hours before the screening. With that said, there was about 60 people that showed up for the screening. It played great. All the laughs came in the right spot. I'm pretty sure most people liked it, they all stayed for the QNA and no one asked really ignorant questions like 'what were you trying to say in the film?' or 'what's the deal with the animation?' They all got it.

Was there anyone at the screening that had been to Camp Ojibwa or had a similar experience?
Yes, there was one person from Camp Ojibwa at the screening. The Camp Ojibwa people always pretty much love the film. There are so many things about camp that stay with you. The sound of morning taps or the way your arms feel after losing a Tug of War. The movie just brings all these emotional memories back. Also, Camp Ojibwa is so hard to explain to people. As someone that went to camp, you want to be able to express how important winning a box hockey match is, but no one would get you, and no one would care. This movie makes these unexplainable camp-concepts understandable.

When is the next chance to catch Win or Lose?
It is being screened twice this Sunday in Highland Park, Illinois. It was just something that was assumed from the get-go. There would always be a screening in Highland Park because everyone that went to Camp Ojibwa is from Highland Park. If you were born in Highland Park, you know about Camp Ojibwa. I think it is going to be an exciting screening. Remember the part in The Blues Brothers before Jake and Elwood go on for their final show at the end of the film? There's like a thousand people in the theater and they are going crazy. That's how I imagine it. We'll see how reality compares.

But aren't people who go to the camp from all over the country?
Not really, there are people from all over the country but a majority, like 90% are from Highland Park, Illinois and the surrounding suburbs just north of Chicago.

What made you decide to make this film?
I went to camp 10 years ago. The first 3 years were fantastic, the last year was tough. During my last year at camp I was 15 and I wanted to stay home that summer. My goals were to sleep in every day and play Madden '94 on my Sega till nightfall, then repeat. My mom thought that plan was not ambitious enough so she sent me away to camp. At camp I had one friend, the camp hippy, we'll call him Jeff. I also had one enemy, the camp bully, we'll call him Steve. I was banking me and Jeff would be best friends all summer and everything would be hunky-dory. But Steve came along and stole Jeff from me. Now I had two enemies. I felt alone and depressed so I quit camp vowing never to return. It turns out when you walk away from things they don't necessarily want to walk away from you. For the next 10 years of my life, I thought about camp constantly and had dreams about it all the time. I knew I had some reconciliation to do. I also just happened to have a thesis film that I had to shoot if I wanted to graduate and I always knew collegiate week would make an exciting story.

I admit I never went to summer camp, but it seems like every component of growing up, both painful and joyful, are magnified at camp, especially Camp Ojibwa where it is so competitive. It's like an intense microcosm of your peers.
At camp there is no MTV, no parents and I'm pretty sure there are no cell phones allowed. It's just you, your friends and a bunch of athletic equipment. Also everyone is very similar: for the most part Jewish and way into sports. The emotions associated with winning and losing are magnified because there is not much else for you to do or talk about. Also, the friendships can be stronger. Some people at camp will argue that a camp friendship is much stronger than a home friendship.

There is a lot of great tension and build up in a very short amount of time. How much footage did you shoot and have to edit down to the current 58 minutes?
I shot 130 hours of footage. All the shooting of the film took about a month and a half. 2 weeks to shoot the camp competition and about a month to film the characters at their homes. I figured in a year I would be done editing. That was a miscalculation. It actually took 3 1/2 years to finish editing the film. Part of the reason it took so long was I had never edited a feature length documentary. I also found editing documentaries extremely challenging. It's very similar to writing except you have a limited pallet. You have to follow all the rules of character development, turning points, climax and resolution but you don't necessarily have the footage to back it up. There were also so many people along the way that helped me make this film that without, the film would have sucked.

Part of me feels that this whole competition is terrible for some of these kids, but then when I see the camaraderie and a real love between these guys, I change my mind. It seems that there are great life lessons to be learned at Collegiate Week, but there is also some pretty messed up psychology behind the whole thing. Where does your opinion fall?
I think in the end, competition is a valuable activity for kids and teenagers. The most important thing it teach us is how to lose. If you learn this early in life while playing a game it's so valuable down the road when you actually do lose something important. The other great thing about sports and competition is it's acts as a kind of social lubrication for boys. After boys share an intense experience like winning or losing, they can't help but have some kind of mutual respect for their teammate or rival. Today I still love sports but tend towards ones that are less competitive like pick-up ultimate frisbee games. I wonder if the same positive lessons at camp could be learned if the competition wasn't as intense? What if Camp Ojibwa was just pick-up ultimate frisbee games and long distance running all summer? Would kids still walk away with the same friendships and lessons learned about losing? Not sure.

I was totally ready to condemn the whole summer camp, but you are very good about being even-handed with the material. Was it hard to put your personal feelings about the camp aside for the process of making the movie?
For better or worst, camp shaped me. Like, I always fantasized about being the best athlete at Camp. It would have been one of the highlights of my childhood to go 1-1 in the camp wide draft. So part of me gets completely caught up in the competition and hype surrounding collegiate week. I still tear up a little bit at the end of the movie when the winners are announced. Another part of me remembers that horrible feeling of loneliness at camp my last year. I don't think camp made me feel like a loser, it was more that I was an insecure teenager who shouldn't have gone to camp that summer. With all that said, if I do have a son, I'm going to be very careful about where I send him to camp. If he can hit 60% of his free throws and can sit through a full Sunday of NFL football he might just be an Ojibwa boy.

Are you still friends with people you met at Camp Ojibwa?
I'm friends with a lot of the characters in the film. The main character, Andrew Robinson, just spent the weekend at my apartment. I'm actually not friends with any one that went to camp when I was a camper unless you count facebook friends.

Can people buy a copy of Win or Lose on DVD?
Not yet, I'm still holding off to find a DVD distributor. The best thing to do now is to become a fan on the facebook page found off the website - http://www.winorlosemovie.com/ - and I'll notify people when it becomes available.

What's on deck for you? Any projects that you are working on or thinking about?
I'm working on writing an episodic comedic internet series. It will be similar in tone to a short film I made a few years ago. The film is here:

Thanks Louis! We'll be watching!

Win or Lose official website.
Louis' production blog