I’m an avid reader of film blogs, websites and magazines, which means I’m constantly learning about films that are really good, but have no chance of playing in the Capital Region. I don’t mean to disparage The Spectrum, the independent movie theater in Albany, which always hosts a fairly eclectic line-up of films, or the fine work of the Saratoga Film Forum or Proctors Theatre. But there are always going to be films that slip through the cracks, that open to positive reviews in New York City and Los Angeles, and then disappear from theaters without a trace. This is why online movie services, such as Netflix, are invaluable. But if you’re an adventurous moviegoer and you feel like taking a drive, Hudson has a lot to offer. The city is home to Time & Space Limited, an independent arts organization that brings some pretty interesting films to upstate New York.
I’m on TSL’s weekly e-mail list, and I often drool over their offerings. But because Hudson is almost an hour away, I rarely go there. Which is too bad, because everything I’ve seen there has been very good. Last weekend, I finally managed to make it back to TSL for a screening of the animated film “Sita Sings the Blues.” I first read about this film on Roger Ebert’s blog. Ebert learned about “Sita Sings the Blues” when he received a copy of the film in the mail. The description of the film — “An animated version of the epic Indian tale of the Ramayana set to the 1920s jazz vocals of Annette Hanshaw” — initially failed to entice him, but eventually he decided to check it out. Personally, I don’t know what Ebert’s problem was. I love weird animated films, and “Sita Sings the Blues” sounded like the weirdest animated film since, oh, I don’t know, “The Triplets of Belleville.” Ebert fell in love with “Sita,” and went on to rave about it in a four star review on his website, which you can find here.
Subtitled “The Greatest Break-Up Story Ever Told,” “Sita Sings the Blues” tells two stories. One, about the collapse of the filmmaker’s marriage when her husband took a job in India, is animated in a spare and simple style that wouldn’t look out of place in the funny pages. The other, which tells the famous story of the Ramayana, uses three different styles of animation. The Ramayana recounts the tale of prince Rama, whose wife Sita is kidnapped by Ravena, an evil demon king with 10 heads. Sita refuses to submit to Ravena, and waits patiently for Rama to come and rescue her. Eventually Rama does show up, accompanied by an army of monkeys, and slays Ravena. But he is unconvinced of Sita’s loyalty, and makes her undergo a trial by fire, which she passes with flying colors when the gods rescue her from the flames and proclaim her innocence. Anyway, these sections are brought to life using Indian paintings, traditional Indian shadow puppets, and, in the film’s most striking passages, vector animation, which creates a colorful, cartoony world that, with its monkeys and one-eyed bird-monsters, reminded me of a little bit of Super Mario Brothers. (No, that is not an insult. I love that game.)
Director Nina Paley spent five years making “Sita Sings the Blues,” on her home computer, and it really is pretty remarkable. It’s an adventure story, with a subtly feminist perspective, and although all the Hindu names and characters can be a little confusing at first, it doesn’t take too long to figure out what’s going on. And the Annette Hanshaw music is really good, too. My one quibble is the film’s depiction of the dissolution of Paley’s marriage. There’s a scene where Paley calls her husband and weeps into the phone, but the next time we see her she’s reading the Ramayana and is seemingly at peace. For me, the transition from totally distraught to perfectly happy was a bit too quick. (For more information about the film, visit Paley’s website, here). But in a film this creative, it’s a minor point.
MORE NIXON
I was such a huge fan of the film “Frost/Nixon” that after I watched it I put the original Frost/Nixon interviews in my Netflix queue, along with a little-known Robert Altman film from 1984, “Secret Honor,” in which the great character actor Philip Baker Hall plays Nixon.
If you liked “Frost/Nixon,” both discs are worth a look. Frank Langella was terrific as Nixon in “Frost/Nixon,” but Hall is equally formidable. Based on a play, “Secret Honor” is a one-man-show, in which Nixon, circa 1979, raves into a tape recorder while pacing around a wood-paneled room in his New Jersey home, drinking heavily and waving around a gun. He is full of self-loathing and hatred, and explains that he was just a pawn in a wider conspiracy — that a secretive cabal named the Committee of 100 got him elected president, and that he engineered Watergate to distract from the more serious crimes taking place under his watch. “Secret Honor” is an intense, sweaty, claustrophobic film. It’s interesting and well-put-together, but not always easy to watch. Unless you think watching Nixon scream and yell for 90 minutes sounds like a really good time.
I decided to check out the original Frost/Nixon interviews after reading — can’t remember where — that they were more compelling than the reenactments in “Frost/Nixon.” And they are pretty compelling, but more compelling? I’m not sure. Certainly, it was interesting to go back and watch the real thing, and I definitely gained a better sense of what a slippery, defiant character Nixon was. (Not for nothing did they call him Tricky Dick.) But I preferred the movie treatment — the back-story and drama. Whereas sitting down to watch a 90-minute one-on-one interview felt a little bit like schoolwork.
MORE TREK
My friend Eric Perkins recently reviewed “Star Trek” on his blog, Ray Bradbury’s Love-Camel. He liked the film, but thinks there was too much Spock. “I got a little Spocked out by the end,” he writes. “Not that Spock isn’t a cool character, but c’mon. Enough is enough. It’s like if a band has someone who plays the ukulele. It’s a fun instrument, kind of a novelty. But you certainly don’t need two of them, and they don’t have to be playing front and center on nearly every song.” Personally, I couldn’t get enough of Spock. But that ukulele analogy makes me laugh. (You can find Ray Bradbury’s Love-Camel here).
Got a comment? A ukulele? Add your thoughts below or e-mail me at sfoss@dailygazette.net.
