#2009films

I'm worried some will hear the premise of Reel Injun and be turned away. This documentary about the representation of Native Americans in film does not seek to guilt or shame anyone, only to educate and entertain. You don’t need to have a stake in the issue to find it enjoyable.

Directed by Cree filmmaker Neil Diamond as well as Catherine Bainbridge and Jeremiah Hayes, Reel Injun shows Diamond traveling through North America, visiting film and historical locations to explore the way Native Americans have been portrayed on-screen throughout the years. To properly examine Hollywood stereotypes such as the Noble Savage and the Drunken Indian, and recent trends in movies, he sits down with people like Clint Eastwood, Adam Beach, film critic Jesse Wente and others.

This could have easily been a bitter, angry film, but it isn’t, which shows a lot of strength on the filmmaker's part. I don’t know if I could’ve watched hours and hours’ worth of footage of my people depicted as barbarians ready to be slaughtered by cowboys and come out with a positive attitude about it, but Diamond does. The film walks a delicate line, showing clips that are simultaneously funny and offensive. You find them off-putting but (like Diamond) manage to find the laughs in them.

As any good documentary does, Reel Injun enlightens. More importantly, it’s fun to watch. You don’t realize how much film influences people until you see a bunch of extremely white and thoroughly earnest children pay tribute to “Indians” by imitating characters they’ve seen in decidedly un-politically correct films. You don’t know if you want to correct them and possibly ruin their fun, or let them go along with their game of make-believe in the hopes that they discover what the people they’re so enamored with are really like on their own.

If you’re a fan of cinema, there’s a lot of interesting history here. I found a short segment about headbands downright fascinating. Headbands? Yes. One of the most memorable sections of this picture looks at the films of old and asks “Why do these people look like this in every movie?” The answers are alternatively embarrassing and hilarious. If you’re intrigued by Aboriginal films, there are some good recommendations throughout (though the picture is a little bit too much in love with Atarnajuat: The Fast Runner for my taste). It also makes you think.

At times, Reel Injun moves too quickly or doesn’t properly explain things, which might make those who aren't intimately familiar with Native American affairs feel a bit lost. It’s also prone to spoiling big events in the films it refers to, which I have mixed feelings about. With the occasional lack of context for people and events, this might make it more for those who already care than those who don't. It’s still worth catching and even if you have no idea what they're referring to, context mostly fills in the blanks.

If you’re passionate about the portrayal of Native Americans in film, you like movies, or you want to see someone speak about political correctness without making you feel guilty about what privileges you may or may not have, Reel Injun is a great pick. Rent it, along with some of the pictures it discusses, and you’ve got a combination of films that elevate each other. Invite a bunch of friends, set some time to discuss them and you’ve got a full day's worth of entertainment. (On DVD, July 8, 2016)

I’ve seen The Road twice now and it’s still a wallop of an experience. This is not a horror film or a thriller but it will have you sweating throughout.

This post-apocalyptic story follows a man (Viggo Mortensen) and his son (Cody Scott-McPhee) traveling in a desolated North America. After an unspecified global disaster, nearly all animal species have gone extinct and all plant life has been wiped out. Most humans have resorted to cannibalism to survive, but our heroes insist on holding onto their integrity in a world without hope.

Based on the novel by Cormac McCarthy, The Road shows us the deepest depths of desperation. While searching for greener pastures, our protagonists have to dodge marauding gangs armed with guns while having to confront their own demons and the appeal of letting go of their ideals. This film is frightening in the same way that a zombie movie is frightening. With limited resources and rampant paranoia, who is more dangerous: them, or us? It’s interwoven with a powerful drama. A father, a son. Probably the last living family left on earth. How did they get there, where will they go next?

For what it is, this is a great-looking, film. The use of color is particularly striking because there’s hardly any. This world is so bleak you wonder if suicide isn’t better than another day of uncertainty. Then, we slip into flashbacks of before the disaster and see how carefree these people were. It helps you remember that survival isn’t enough, that hope and joy are what will keep you going. A warm fire, a treat that’s been overlooked, a pleasant memory, those are what will keep our heroes going.

Watching The Road, you become determined not to lose hope, no matter what. You desperately want to see this father and son make it out alive. They became avatars for you. If they make it, you will too. Perhaps more important than their lives are their code of ethics, their desire to remain good people in a world where all morals have been abandoned. This is the crucial human element that makes the picture an unforgettable experience. Though things get as bleak as they possibly could, you’re constantly reminded that hope can still burn bright.

I won’t call this is a depressing movie, but it’s a depressing story. You thought a zombie apocalypse was bad? At least zombies can’t help but eat people, and once you turn into one, there’s nothing you can do about it. Our heroes are dying. They’re starved, haven’t seen sunlight in years, regularly talk about suicide as an option, and have seen horrors only hinted at in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre time and time again. It’s not a question of “if”, but “when”. In their shoes, what would you do? Director John Hillcoat forces you to confront a scenario with no alternatives. It's kill or be killed. When confronted with such extremes, you're compelled to examine who you are.

All that and it’s got some powerful performances. It boils down its themes to the essentials, stripping away everything but the crucially important. What’s left makes a powerful impact. Is it the kind of movie you can just pop into your machine and watch anytime? No, but you’re going to forget it anytime soon and it will provoke something inside you. The Road might be the stuff of nightmares, but I can’t help kind of loving it. (On DVD, April 22, 2016)

If you’re going to bring a familiar story or well-known historical figure to life on the big screen, you’ve got to bring something new to the table. That's what The Countess does. You may not know Erzsébet Báthory, but you probably recognize "Elizabeth Bathory", the notorious 16th-century serial killer.

This psychological gothic horror/drama details the life of the countess (played by Julie Delpy), from her birth in 1560 to her death. After her husband’s passing, she rules over his estate. As her army keeps the Turks out of Hungary, the kingdom grows increasingly indebted towards her. Today, she is known for abducting, murdering, and then bathing in the blood of virgins to keep herself young. Were these accusations based on real events, fabrications by her political rivals, or somewhere in between?

Julie Delpy (who stars, writes, and directs) offers a wholly original take on the history of Bathory. I never thought twice to question the stories of the woman who lived in a castle and murdered virgins so that she could feed on their youth. Why not? Isn't it just as likely the stories we've heard are wild exaggerations or even full-blown folklore? Let's keep in mind the period. The 16th Century is not particularly well-known for its gender equality. Is it possible that a scheming, jealous rival of Báthory could have framed her and that other men joined in to remove a powerful woman from her position? It sounds more plausible than a real-life vampire, that's for sure. Alternatively, I'd believe Báthory did murder all of those young women but that her accusers wouldn't have cared unless they saw something to gain from her conviction. Complex ideas and differing interpretations can be drawn from individual scenes and the film as a whole. Once those floodgates are opened, you wonder what other historical monsters might've been created by those who outlived them.

This angle is the most interesting part of the film, but there is plenty else to like. This is a passion project; a great-looking period piece with elaborate, authentic-looking costumes and sets (I’m no expert on mid to late 16th Century Hungary). It gets ghoulish and unsettling, but never too much that someone who isn’t accustomed or drawn to horror couldn’t bear to sit through it. The characters are well developed and the relationships compelling to follow. I enjoyed seeing as Daniel Brühl as István Thurzó and Sebastian Blomberg as Dominic Vizakna. The way those two play in the story adds a whole lot of complexity.

Keep in mind, this isn't a documentary. Many events are depicted in a deliberately ambiguous way, and it's all told in flashback by someone who wasn't present for many of the events. You shouldn't criticize its authenticity. Actual flaws include the pacing during the early years of Báthory’s life and some of the performances by the young cast. There are extensive flashback sequences that could've been dropped for time, particularly when it seems like later years are merely touched upon, even when multiple murders are committed. Perhaps spreading those out to bridge the seasons would have worked better and made the film more digestible for audiences who are not familiar with gothic storylines. The bad acting is self-explanatory. Whenever you see a kid on-screen, get ready to cringe.

Small flaws aside, The Countess is a horror/drama with a brain. It's about much more than a singular character we're "getting to know for the first time"; it'll make you wonder about women of the past, and any historical figures that seem too good (or rather, bad) to be true. (On DVD, October 2, 2015)