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Review: The New World4.0
The New World's sociological and emotional heft is encased in a swirl of hallucinatory images. This is a fitting description given that Terrence Malick approaches the story of John Smith and Pocahontas as if it were a specimen of lost time trapped in amber. He turns the fossil in his hands, reflecting the light of the sun through the resinous shell of history and onto his characters from many remarkable, expressive angles, illuminating the tragedy of John Smith and Pocahontas's impossible love through the horrible conquest of the Powhatan tribe's paradise and the sad spectacle of Pocahontas's conversion into an English woman. The purpose of this lyrical experiment is an attempt to regain lost time—to substantiate the lore of John Smith and Pocahontas with profound, adult feeling. It takes back the story Disney hijacked and infantilized in 1995's Pocahontas.
A lesser filmmaker might have used shallow dramatic busywork and a thousand unnecessary words to communicate the same sense of moral and social consequence a single forlorn image from The New World conveys. Malick's vernacular is predicated on transcendental impulses and a liberal use of ellipses. This is why many critics and audiences have a hard time with his films: Like Terence Davies, he's a poet working in a medium whose audience is unused to unconventional expressions of thought and emotion. Malick's lyrical style befits the The New World's long-storied context, and the beauty of the film is how he uses the reverie of his cinematic language to radiate the collective sensation of a half-remembered dream. This is the way this great filmmaker intimately connects us to the past—through the language of the soul and imagination.
Malick tells a better story through the subversive cartographic title sequence that opens the The New World than your average historical drama divulges during its entire running time. The maps Malick uses not only provide the story with geographical specificity but they also vibrantly portend the colonization of the new world and its inevitable spiritual destitution. This expressionistic artifice whets our appetite for the tour de force of sight and sound epitomized by the film's opening minutes, during which the 100-plus aristocrats of the London Virginia Company arrive in America and settle in Jamestown. As the Englishmen make their way nervously through the chest-high grass surrounding their new colony, Malick's images—combined with the alternately menacing and enchanting sweep of James Horner's score—evoke a weighty sense of danger and discovery.
Great poet that he is, Malick has a gift for parallelism and an affinity for romantic motifs. John Smith (Colin Farrell) arrives in America a prisoner. Chained deep inside the ship's hull, he uses his hands to catch falling drops of water and reach for the warmth of the sun that shines in the distant sky. This image of imprisonment at once contrasts and corresponds with the equally mythic vision of Pocahontas (a remarkable Q'Orianka Kilcher) swaying her arms in the wind toward the heavens. John Smith and Pocahontas find each other as if by chance; it's not exactly love at first sight but Malick's stunning shifts in register impart the intense feeling of history being set in irrevocable motion when they catch glimpses of each other in the warm summer wilderness. "Eden lies about us still," says Captain Christopher Newport (Christopher Plummer) late in the film, a fitting allusion given that Malick plays the love story between his main characters as the rapturous birth of a nation, if not the world.
Malick may or may not have waited an eternity for a bird to strategically soar across one of his compositions, but you never question the organic aura The New World exudes. Malick's camera is so connected to his environment it's as if the nature of the film is responsible for directing the action; this is most instructive in the major battle scene between the Powhatan tribe and the Jamestown settlers when the flight of a lone bird seemingly launches both camps into battle. The abandon with which Malick gives himself to the world shames the calculated, unfeeling aesthetic of Theo Angelopoulos's fatuous The Weeping Meadow, which weeps only for its own besotted sense of seriousness, while the unease of John Smith and Pocahontas's impossible love affair—which Farrell and Kilcher beautifully carry out as performance art—shows-off the banality of Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain.
The exquisiteness of The New World and how it reveals itself to its audience is flabbergasting—like a heretofore unknown cave painting impeccably preserved except for a few spots here and there eroded by time and nature. It's this purity of presentation and spirit that gives the film its universal attraction. With minimal dialogue and dramatic fuss, Malick examines the lifestyle and traditions of the Powhatan people on an elemental level, using visual and aural rhythms that feel as if they've been cued to the beat of the human heart—none of that blue-corn-moon Disney bullshit the director responds to when a broken Pocahontas asks, "Why does the earth have colors?" Some may scoff at the film's sudden tonal shifts, but these leaps in time (and faith) are profoundly in sync with the story's turmoil. Malick never loses sight of the story's history but his daring montage still leaves some things to the imagination, like the process by which the hungry British men of the original Jamestown colony went mad and how the Native Americans came to trust their new neighbors enough to trade with them.
The New World certainly calls attention to itself—any work of art this commanding always does—but it does so without arrogance about its design. It doesn't belabor historical accuracy the way Master and Commander does, which is not to say the film's details are arbitrary. Along with every other component—from the cinematography and score to the many fine performances—the film's attention to historical detail is just one composite of a Zen-like mise-en-scène bursting at the seams with emotion and inquisitions about idealism and a world being remade in the image of another. It's this serene, intuitive conviction for truth that annoys some critics (fans of Titanic no doubt), who confuse Malick's generosity for pretense. Seriously, is there a more expressive and succinct illustration of Pocahontas's estrangement from her people—and the end of the new world as they knew it—than the images scattered throughout the film of birds moving further and further away from the girl's sightline? The birds retreat as she retreats into the gilded cage held ajar by the British.
Malick equates the union and separation of John Smith and Pocahontas to two worlds drawing near, grinding together, and subsequently pulling apart. In this way, The New World's epic scale has equal room for humanist compassion and breathtaking action. Banished from her tribe for cavorting with John Smith, Pocahontas goes to live in the Jamestown colony, where she marries the widowed John Rolfe (Christian Bale) and bears him a son. The film begins to lose some of its elasticity around this point, but that's only fitting given the restrictive social vice that ensnares the girl. Arriving in England, she is a stranger in a strange land, but while her displacement may be devastating, a reverential Malick conveys through the film's breathtaking final minutes a sense of divine reconnection through death. The English may have exorcised her freedom but not her spirit. It's an appropriate sentiment for a film that also refuses to shake itself loose from the confines of our memories.
Cast: Colin Farrell, Q'Orianka Kilcher, Christian Bale, Christopher Plummer, Ben Chaplin, Jamie Harris, Joe Inscoe, Eddie Marsan, Ben Mendelsohn, Michael Greyeyes, Jason Aaron Baca, Jonathan Pryce, Kalani Queypo, Jeremy Radin, Will Wallace, Noah Taylor, Irene Bedard Director: Terrence Malick Screenwriter: Terrence Malick Distributor: New Line Cinema Running Time: 150 min Rating: PG-13 Year: 2005 Buy: Video, Soundtrack
Review: Rocketman Is Dynamic and Formulaic in Equal Measure
As a musical, Dexter Fletcher's film is just fun enough to (mostly) distract us from its superficiality.2.5
Dexter Fletcher's Rocketman is yet another biopic about the psycho-sensual highs and lows of being a rock star. The story of Elton John's life suggests a narrative arc that is, at this point, awfully familiar: a musically gifted boy from working-class England is inspired by the sonic freedom evoked by American rock music; his dissatisfaction with his own life propels him to great success but also makes him susceptible to the temptations of the decadent pop-star lifestyle; his drug habit ruins his personal relationships and even threatens his career; he eventually confronts his demons and stages a comeback—with his new, healthy attitude mirrored by renewed professional success. Roll titles telling us where Elton is now.
To its credit, Rocketman is at least partially aware that we're familiar with these types of Behind the Music-style biopics. It doesn't abandon the template, but it does toss us a colorful, energetic musical sequence whenever the protagonist's family life or struggles with stardom threaten to get too dark. Fantastical song-and-dance scenes, built around some of Elton's most well-known songs and enhanced by CG effects, serve to express the characters' submerged feelings ("I Want Love"), transition between Elton's childhood and adulthood ("Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting"), link the performative decadence of mid-'70s glam rock to that of mid-'70s sex ("Bennie and the Jets," somewhat oddly), and simply offer some visually pleasing spectacle ("Crocodile Rock"). Their main effect, though, is to give the film the quality of a karaoke stage musical: Even as Elton nearly overdoses on prescription meds, we're not here to contemplate mortality, but to enjoy some fondly remembered pop songs. As a musical, Rocketman is just fun enough to (mostly) distract us from its superficiality.
In between the musical sequences, Elton (Taron Egerton), born Reginald Dwight, is portrayed as the unhappy genius inside the sequined chicken costume. Loved insufficiently by his selfish mother (Bruce Dallas Howard) and not at all by his stiff-upper-lipped father (Steven Mackintosh), the young Reggie longs to be somewhere and someone else. It turns out that he's almost preternaturally gifted at the piano, able to reproduce complex pieces upon hearing them once, and this gift turns out to be his ticket out of working-class London. Starting as a back-up musician for Motown artists on tour in Britain, Reggie soon breaks out on his own, inventing his new stage name by stealing the first name of one of his bandmates, and taking the last name from John Lennon—improvising the latter when he sees a photo of the Beatles hanging in the office of Dick James (Stephen Graham), head of his first record label, DJM.
Rocketman makes clear that Reggie's adoption of a stage name is more than just marketing, as he'll insist, later in the film, that his family also call him Elton. The invention of a new persona allows him to escape his humble origins and demeanor. As one of the Motown performers advises him in one of those programmatic lines that these sorts of films specialize in, "Kill the person you are in order to become the person you want to be." The irony of John's public image—the mild manner and small stature offset by flamboyant, glittering stage performances—is expanded into a Reggie/Elton dialectic in Rocketman, in which the adult Elton must eventually learn to reconcile himself with his inner child. It's a reconciliation that will be presented in the most literal of images toward the end of the film.
At DJM, Elton is paired with lyricist Bernie Taupin (Jamie Bell), and the two form an instant bond. Together, they write many popular songs, some seemingly inspired by their friendship. There's an ambiguous sexual tension between them, and the film implies that the duo's "Your Song" may have been an outgrowth of this tension—or, at the very least, that the lonely Elton mistook it as such. Elton's ultimately platonic friendship with Bernie is the emotional core of Rocketman, depicted as the most stable relationship of Elton's life. (The film concludes in the '80s, just before the singer would meet his eventual husband, David Furnish.)
Fletcher's film is less squeamish about Elton's love life—including sex—than a big-budget biopic about a gay star would have been years ago—or, rather, as recent as last year. Elton has an intense and predictably doomed romance with callous music manager John Reid (Richard Madden), but what drives him to booze and drugs is a loneliness and discomfort with himself that goes beyond his marginalized sexual identity. Which is to say, the Elton John of Rocketman doesn't fit into to the stereotype of the tragic, self-destructive gay man.
There isn't much to Bernie and Elton's creative process as depicted in the film. Repeatedly, Bernie shows up with lyrics, and Elton comes up with the music on the spot, as if the tunes came to him from on high. At one point, his mother claims accusatorily that everything has always been too easy for Elton, and as a viewer, one is tempted to agree. Here, Elton's music is less the outgrowth of hard work and more on the order of religious revelation: Witness, for example, the trippy musical number in which "Crocodile Rock" makes the audience at the famous Troubadour club in Los Angeles levitate. The visually engrossing title-song sequence plays, in overblown glam-rock fashion, with Christ-like images of death and ascension.
Egerton delivers a dynamic performance as the alternatingly sullen and exuberant star, one that fits in perfectly with the film's embrace of Elton's loud, diamond-encrusted aesthetic. But if the musical sequences feature spirited performances and colorful mise-en-scène that are pleasurably diverting, much of what surrounds them is bound to elicit groans, from the hackneyed way the film uses minor black characters as props to legitimize its aspiring white rock star, to the one-dimensionality of every character who isn't Elton or Bernie, to the final delivery of a complacent moral. As a vision Elton has of his beloved grandmother (Gemma Jones) tells him during his stint in rehab, "You write songs millions of people love, and that's what's important." Is it, though? This seems less like a reassurance for a character in the grips of addiction, and more like a reassurance to the audience that they matter.
Cast: Taron Egerton, Jamie Bell, Richard Madden, Gemma Jones, Bryce Dallas Howard, Steven Mackintosh Director: Dexter Fletcher Screenwriter: Lee Hall Distributor: Paramount Pictures Running Time: 121 min Rating: R Year: 2019 Buy: Video
Cannes Review: In Pain and Glory, Life and Art Are Wistful Bedfellows
Pedro Almodóvar's latest only occasionally captures the spry, comedic rhythms and impassioned intensity of his finest work.2.5
A film about an aging artist struggling to recapture his yen for creation, Pain and Glory has the makings of a deeply personal, career-capping work for Pedro Almodóvar. His name may be Salvador Mallo (Antonio Banderas), but the gay filmmaker, with his tussled hair, white beard, and red turtleneck, may as well call himself Pedro. One of the very few differences between them is that Salvador has stopped making films while Almodóvar continues to work at a relatively steady clip. Pain and Glory is a ballsy admission on the Spanish auteur's part that he hasn't made a film in more than a decade that can compare with his most outrageous and subversive output, which makes it all the more dispiriting that his latest only occasionally captures the spry, comedic rhythms and impassioned, melodramatic intensity that defined, say, Law of Desire, Matador, and Bad Education.
Pain and Glory is most surprising at the outset, as the stern narration that we've come to expect from an Almodóvar film is audaciously paired with CG graphics and abstract animations that illustrate Salvador's anatomical and psychosomatic conditions. The man suffers from tinnitus, chronic back pain, severe headaches, anxiety, depression, and various other ailments. It's a literally visceral way to begin a film that soon settles into the more familiar pattern of a two-track narrative: There's Salvador in the present, who works toward repairing a friendship with the heroin-addicted star, Alberto (Asier Etxeandia), of his recently restored and most celebrated film, Subor, and there's Salvador as a young boy (Asier Flores), preternaturally intelligent and perpetually optimistic, living in poverty with his ever-harried mother, Jacinta (Penélope Cruz), until he's finally sent off to a seminary.
Perhaps all of this might have landed with a little more impact if Almodóvar hadn't already covered so much of the same territory in Bad Education, which also centers itself around a film director's relationship with an actor and tells the story of a young altar boy's life, much of it spent at a seminary, through a series of flashbacks. Another rehash of a nearly identical plot point from that 2004 film is Pain and Glory's intriguing meta conceit: Alberto convinces Salvador to let him perform a one-man stage adaptation of a monologue the former wrote long ago, an obvious nod to Almodóvar's longtime collaborator, Banderas, playing a version of the filmmaker here. Pain and Glory is, in fact, defined by its abundance of conspicuously placed Easter eggs. Even in the scenes between the present-day Salvador and his dying mother (Julietta Serrano), namely the moment she tells him not to make films about her, Almodóvar points to the personal turmoil that led to the making of All About My Mother.
Putting aside the boldness of the sequences that kick Pain and Glory into motion, Almodóvar's formal approach is generally subdued and disciplined throughout. His screenplay is also quite neat in its structure, relating its two plotlines in almost stubbornly linear fashion, reliably hitting standard narrative beats of interpersonal conflict and reconciliation. Almodóvar wouldn't be the first filmmaker in the history of cinema to mellow with age, and there's a sense that Pain and Glory's artistry is a reflection of that trajectory, but that only makes the too-fleeting snapshots of Salvador's hard-scrabble early years—which includes living inside a white cave with Jacinta and other migrants—feel as if they never transcend easy nostalgia.
Still, Almodóvar's singular use of color as a barometer of characters' interiorities and the emotional temperature of a scene remains on vibrant display throughout Pain and Glory. There's also some wonderful comic repartee between the disheveled Banderas, so exquisitely committed to imparting a sense of his character's almost ghostly status, and the perpetually bug-eyed Etxeandia. Alberto, upon reuniting with Salvador, almost immediately introduces him to heroin, and, improbably, the way in which they bond through their horrible addiction results in some of the funniest scenes in an Almodóvar film in some time.
It's another reunion, though, between Salvador and Federico (Leonardo Sbaraglia), an ex-lover he hasn't seen since the '80s, that finds Almodóvar delivering on the heightened promise of the film's title. The men are brought back together through an absurd coincidence, after Federico wanders into the performance of Salvador's play and recognizes that his life has been incorporated into the monologue, but the scene thrums with that distinctly magnetic force of love that's fundamental to Almodóvar's best work. Also, the actual moment of Salvador and Federico's reunion is a gracefully staged dance of advance and retreat, beginning with a late-night conversation at Salvador's apartment that never leaves the common area. Finally, after an intense kiss, Federico departs, and though he invites Salvador to come visit him and his family, both men seem to implicitly realize that they'll never see each other again.
Salvador and Federico's meeting unfolds almost in real time, and touches on their shared past, the lives they lived in the interim, and how much they've always meant to each other. The scene recalls other intense emotional meetings in prior Almodóvar films, but more than that, in its duration and focus, it seems drawn from more contemporary inspirations: Richard Linklater's Before trilogy, the final stretch of Barry Jenkins's Moonlight, even "Looking for the Future," the finest episode of Andrew Haigh's Looking. It also arguably packs even more of an expressive force than any of those works, and serves as a reminder that, however much Almodóvar's formalist bona fides may have cooled, his ability to craft emotionally acute, achingly felt scenes between men in the throes of love is as vigorous as ever.
Cast: Antonio Banderas, Asier Etxeandia, Penélope Cruz, Leonardo Sbaraglia, Nora Navas, Julieta Serrano, César Vicente, Asier Flores, Julieta Serrano Director: Pedro Almodóvar Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics Running Time: 113 min Rating: NR Year: 2019
Cannes Review: Joan of Arc Never Coalesces into a Fully Rounded Character Study
Bruno Dumont seems perpetually aware of the trap of familiarity, which may be why he indulges in some of his most inscrutable filmmaking.2
Bruno Dumont's Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc may not have earned the French filmmaker many new fans, but it did serve to further his apparent embrace of a more mirthful directorial approach. As radical as any film that the New French Extremity-adjacent auteur has made, Jeanette is also unexpectedly accessible: a full-blown pop-rock musical in which a preteen Joan of Arc frets over her God-given mission to save France during the Hundred Years' War, all the while head-banging to heavy metal music.
Dumont's follow-up, Joan of Arc, now takes on the task of covering the "adult" years of the martyred saint, from her waning days as a warlord to her trial and inevitable execution for heresy. And while it's almost as surprising as its predecessor, it's considerably less exhilarating. Whereas the latter half of Jeanette, following a time jump, replaced child actor Lise Leplat Prudhomme with the teenaged Jeanne Voisin, the now 10-year-old Prudhomme has been reinstated in the title role here as the 19-year-old Joan. Right away, this recalibration is extremely dissonant, and it's one that Dumont exploits particularly well in the lengthy scenes depicting Joan's trial, during which she's lectured and berated—like the child that she physically is—by misogynistic, condescending "graduates of theology."
Much less easy to parse, in terms of intentionality and of classification, is the film's proximity to the musical genre. An early scene features a suite of songs—sung theatrically by French indie-pop group Kid Wise's Augustin Charnet—that play over a series of stoical tableaux shots of Prudhumme's armor-clad Joan, looking pensively into the camera. Dumont briefly seems to be up to something rather brilliant here, reconfiguring the musical tropes of his Joan of Arc saga as a means to manifest the "voices" that the Joan of historical record claimed she heard in her head. But that interpretation gets ever more foggy as the filmmaker goes on to present various musical-esque scenes, but in fractured and recontexualized forms. The most jarring example of this is a lengthy, wordless interlude that features a battalion of soldiers on horseback moving in elaborate patterns, dance-like, a sequence which Dumont shoots in a way that recalls Busby Berkley musicals, with shots from above of the choreographed horses.
At least one aesthetic decision carries over from Jeanette: Only a handful of sets are used in Joan of Arc, and each change usually heralds a major shift in Joan's lived experience, from battle to trial to imprisonment. (The film's first third is largely adapted from French Catholic poet Charles Péguy's play Les Batailles, while the remainder, almost entirely concerned with Joan's trial and punishment, is based on another Péguy work, Rouen.) However, whereas Jeanette mostly limited itself to exterior shots of the idyllic French countryside, the contrasts in Joan of Arc are striking: The film moves from its opening passage, set amid cascading dunes, to the clean, vertiginous, and imposing interior space of the Royal Chapel, a place that serves to decisively dwarf an already diminutive Joan.
It's in the pristine halls of the Royal Chapel that ornately dressed men of aristocratic pedigree and high authority—each drolly introduced in a kind of roll call—gather and almost instantly turn into savages, indiscriminately lobbing insults and explicating their own intolerance with unfeeling displays of intellectualized theological reasoning. Naturally, Joan retaliates, steadfastly refusing to disavow her devotion to her own spiritual dogma.
The best part of these trial scenes, and of Joan of Arc in general, is Prudhomme, who, despite her age, gives an extraordinarily committed, and convincing, performance as the teenaged Joan. The cinema is filled with iconic portrayals of the Maid of Orléans, but Prudhomme fully deserves a place among those. It's a pity, then, that Dumont's film doesn't really manage to find many new dimensions to the Joan of Arc mythos—apart from its one inspired casting choice. The filmmaker's effort to tap into the currents of modernity that run through this centuries-old story can be traced back through film history, at least as far as Robert Bresson's The Trial of Joan of Arc, if not to Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc—which is, of course, predicated on the particular presentation of the cinematic image.
Dumont does, at least, seem perpetually aware of the trap of familiarity, which may be why he indulges in some of his most inscrutable filmmaking—the aforementioned horse dance, and a musical cameo from the film's composer, French popstar Christophe—and attempts subtle gestures of subversion. Take the final shot of Joan of Arc, which is not unlike the last act of grace and salvation (and blatant homage to Robert Bresson's Mouchette) that concludes 2010's Hadewijch. Here, the instantly recognizable composition from the Dreyer film—for which Bresson infamously voiced his distaste—is rejected twofold, as Dumont shoots Joan's fatal immolation in profile, and from a considerable distance.
Joan of Arc, though, has bigger problems than an over familiarity with its source, as its themes and dynamics also recall other, stronger Dumont films. The articulation of interiority through stylized visualizations of the adolescent Joan is audacious and intriguing, but its philosophical meaning isn't nearly as fleshed out, nor as emotionally accessible, as the transformation undergone by a devout young woman into a radicalized religious extremist in Hadewijch. And the psychological understanding of Joan—the process of her victimization—isn't as acute, nor as visceral, as Dumont's similar biopic on institutionalized sculptor Camille Claudel. Joan of Arc can't even claim to have the same conceptual rigor that ignited Jeanette—all of which amounts to a film that feels like a nexus point for Dumont's influences and his preoccupations, but one that never coalesces its potential into the major work it clearly strives to be.
Cast: Lise Leplat Prudhomme, Jean-François Causeret, Daniel Dienne, Fabien Fenet, Robert Hanicotte, Yves Habert, Fabrice Luchini, Christophe Director: Bruno Dumont Screenwriter: Bruno Dumont Running Time: 138 min Rating: NR Year: 2019
Cannes Review: Zombi Child Radically Grapples with Colonialism's Legacy
Bertrand Bonello's quixotic, slow-burn genre film is political largely in the abstract.3.5
Restlessly shuttling between 1960s Haiti and present-day France, Bertrand Bonello's Zombi Child roils with colonialist tensions. But as with the director's prior Nocturama, this quixotic, slow-burn genre film is political largely in the abstract. While there are moments here where a history of exploitation informs the relationship between the French, lily-white Fanny (Louise Labeque) and Haitian refugee Mélissa (Wislanda Louimat)—classmates at an all-girls school established by Napoleon Bonaparte—Bonello's interests go much deeper then race relations. Indeed, the decision to switch back and forth between Mélissa and Fanny's perspectives in the film's present-day scenes opens the story up to a more complex examination of how the girls view and relate to their own heritage and culture.
Not unlike Bonello's House of Pleasures, which in its final moments made a jarring jump from a brothel in the early 20th century to modern-day Paris and prostitutes working a city street, Zombi Child explores the factors that have allowed a social practice, voodoo, to become a constant of history. Mélissa's aunt, Katy (Katiana Milfort), is a "mambo," or voodoo priestess, and she's the only surviving member of Mélissa's family in the wake of Haiti's 2010 earthquake. Mélissa is drawn to Fanny because the two share an affinity for Stephen King and horror fiction, and as they get closer, Fanny facilitates Mélissa's initiation into her tight-knit "literary sorority." But after this act of bonding, the young women begin to move in opposite directions: Mélissa makes an effort to fit into the sorority, singing along to angry French rap when she'd rather be listening to music sung in her native Créole language, while Fanny, reeling from her sudden breakup with her long distance lover, Pablo (Sayyid El Alami), discreetly digs into Mélissa's past and decides to use voodoo as a remedy for her heartbreak.
The other half of the film's time-jumping narrative concerns Fanny's grandfather, Clairvius (Mackenson Bijou), who, in 1962, becomes the victim of a voodoo curse that puts him in an early grave and results in the reanimation of his corpse and him having to perform manual plantation labor in a perpetually "zombified" state. Throughout this section of Zombi Child, Bonello fractures the spatial and temporal coherence of scenes, stringing together elemental, horror movie-adjacent visuals, like the recurring image of an iridescent moon shrouded in clouds and first-person perspective shots that careen through dense sugarcane fields. A clear contrast is established early on between the perpetually dark Haitian landscape and the antiseptic, white-walled interiors of the classrooms in which Fanny and Mélissa are lectured by professors spouting one-sided lessons on world history. But just as its racial politics start to seem too explicit, Zombi Child suddenly and radically reframes itself.
Clairvius's death turns out to have been the consequence of familial jealousy, and his exploitation as a slave comes at the hands of black plantation farmers, not white men—at least not that we're made aware of. And if the film is rendered with a veracity that a documentarian would envy, that's a result of Bonello drawing inspiration from accounts of Haitian slaves being put in medically induced states of "zombification" during the early 20th century. This has the effect of recasting a supernatural fiction narrative as reconstructed history.
Bonello also never gives us the racially charged confrontation that Mélissa and Fanny's relationship seems to be building toward, as he's interested in their racial backgrounds only insofar as it shapes their modes of self-identification. Fanny's refusal to accept her life in the present sets her on a collision course with the forces of Mélissa's ancestry, and leads to a cataclysm of psychological horror that sees one of these forces to take possession over the other—an undead history rising up to claim a living one. Mélissa, though, draws her identity from her past and her present, and in the same moment that Fanny has her communion with the spiritual forces of voodoo, Mélissa delivers an aural history on the subject—a kind of counter-lecture to those of the white, blowhard professors in Zombi Child.
The film's off-kilter mix of horror, historiography, and youth movie affords Bonello plenty of opportunity to indulge his pet themes and motifs. He spends much time lingering throughout scenes set at the academy on the sociality of the young women and their engagement with pop culture (notably, Mélissa gives a presentation to her class on Rihanna). In fact, Bonello's fascination with the dynamics of these relationships seems to drive his interest in the horror genre more so even than the film's most obvious antecedent, Jacques Tourneur's I Walked with a Zombie—as is indicated by a pretty explicit homage to Brian De Palma's Carrie.
The film's most intriguing facet, though, is the way Bonello plays with temporality. The dialectical relationship between past and present has become a central organizing principle of Bonello's artistry, evident in his anachronistic soundtrack choices and his unmooring of characters from their period settings through decidedly modern behaviors or situations, but here he approaches that dialectic in a crucially different manner. Instead of overlaying modern-day signifiers on a period piece setting, as he did in House of Pleasures, Zombi Child suggests two temporalities that exist parallel to each other. And the anxiety this creates—through discursive editing and match cuts—leads to a feverish payoff, one that uses genre and supernatural elements to further Bonello's idea of there being one historical continuity.
Cast: Adilé David, Ginite Popote, Louise Labeque, Mackenson Bijou, Mathilde Riu, Ninon François, Patrick Boucheron, Saadia Bentaïeb, Sayyid El Alami, Wislanda Louimat, Katiana Milfort Director: Bertrand Bonello Screenwriter: Bertrand Bonello Running Time: 103 min Rating: NR Year: 2019
Review: In Diamantino, Strident Political Satire and Whimsy Go Toe to Toe
The film is at its strongest when depicting how Diamantino becomes a tool of politicians hoping to oust Portugal from the EU.2.5
Part absurdist character study, part satire of various European political crises, Diamantino envisions a Candide-like soccer megastar, Diamantino Matamouros (Carloto Cotta), possessed of naïve but intense imaginations. He lives in a colossal chateau and sleeps on pillows and sheets with his face printed on them, and spends much of his waking life riding the seas on a yacht that's big enough to ferry a small army. Despite being arguably the most famous person in Portugal, and among the most famous in the world, he's oblivious to his star power and the weighty expectations placed on him by soccer fans.
Throughout the film, writer-directors Gabriel Abrantes and Daniel Schmidt delight in playing up the precarious balance between Diamantino's self-absorption and his sweet absent-mindedness. Unencumbered by an entourage, Diamantino rarely interacts with anyone besides his loving, supportive father, Chico (Chico Chapas), whose humble kindness is rather jarring when set against the palatial trappings of the family's digs. Even on the soccer pitch, Diamantino doesn't exude the focus one associates with an elite athlete, as he spends matches fantasizing about running with colossal, fluffy puppies—playful daydreams that somehow guide his movements as he slips past other players and scores goals.
Diamantino's carefree, seemingly unflappable temperament, however, is disrupted when he spots a raft of refugees while boating, and his glimpse at real human misery shakes him to the core—so much so that during a make-or-break penalty kick that will decide the World Cup final, he's too distracted to make the shot, costing Portugal the match. The film's manic tone swings into overdrive at this point, as Diamantino's daydreams of haunted refugees are contrasted with his tear-streaked face when it's blown up on jumbotrons, effectively positioning him as a symbol of his country's spectacular defeat. And all the while his evil twin sisters (Anabela Moreira and Margarida Moreira) scream at the television set playing the game inside the family's living room, causing Chico to have a fatal stroke.
This delirious sequence, touching on a celebrity's political preoccupation and viral media culture, exhibits an audaciousness that's disappeared from much contemporary comedy, and it sets the tone for the film's freewheeling style. Humiliated into early retirement, Diamantino announces his embrace of the sort of celebrity activism that regularly comes in for ridicule, declaring that he will adopt a refugee child to honor both the humanitarian crisis and his late father. The Portuguese secret service, already investigating him for suspected money laundering, uses Diamantino's proclamation to set up an undercover agent, Aisha (Cleo Tavares), to pose as a Cape Verdean refugee child, Rahim, in order to get into his house to gather clues for their case. And while Aisha only finds hilarious evidence of the player's innocence (his computer files consist of nothing but pet photos), she continues her ruse, if only for the filmmakers to add yet another wrinkle—a lesbian relationship with her colleague, Lucia (Maria Leite)—to the film's already dense array of plots and themes.
Aisha and Lucia's presence in Diamantino may turn the dial up on the film's hijinks, but in the process stalls its satirical thrust. To be sure, the film wrings much humor from Aisha's infiltration of Diamantino's home, mostly from how quickly she discovers that his innocence is beyond a doubt and that his cruel sisters are comically guilty, as they keep their offshore accounts on a desktop shortcut. Diamantino's interactions with Aisha are amusing insofar as Cotta commits fully to his character's over-eager treatment of "Rahim," serving his adopted child breakfast in bed and getting into tickle fights that underscore the man's emotional stuntedness. Yet these moments soon come to feel redundant, leaning too much on Lucia's petulant anger for comic effect as Aisha grows increasingly close to Diamantino.
That Diamantino and Aisha's relationship comes to define the last act of the film ultimately detracts from the riotous vision that Abrantes and Schmidt sketch of roiling EU tensions and the way celebrity culture can be just another element in the viral branding of extreme politics. Diamantino is on its strongest footing when depicting how its main character becomes a tool of politicians hoping to oust Portugal from the EU. One scene sees him starring in "Pexit" commercial as a folk hero from the Reconquista, during which Muslims were expelled from the Iberian Peninsula. The right-wing politicians who fund the ad clearly pledge allegiance to the historical figure's Islamophobia, though it's also obvious that they hope that the pleasure Diamantino takes in dancing around in his costume will undercut that impression.
Elsewhere, Diamantino is used as a lab rat for a company that attempts to clone him in order to produce the world's best soccer team. This stretch finds the film at its most profound, in part because it's impossible to believe that scientists and supercomputers fail to fathom how a man who lives on an all-sugar diet and daydreams about puppies on the pitch could be the world's best athlete. The filmmakers draw a line between the absurdity of these experiments and the insidious quest for racial purity behind most eugenics movements, suggesting that neo-fascists are so prone to celebrity worship that they might mistake their favorite star for the master race. It's rich, relevant material for satire, so it's a shame that the film pivots away from it to resolve around Diamantino's relatively straightforward pursuit of happiness.
Cast: Carloto Cotta, Cleo Tavares, Anabela Moreira, Margarida Moreira, Carla Maciel, Chico Chapas, Maria Leite, Filipe Vargas, Joana Barrios Director: Gabriel Abrantes, Daniel Schmidt Screenwriter: Gabriel Abrantes, Daniel Schmidt Distributor: Kino Lorber Running Time: 96 min Rating: NR Year: 2018
Review: The Tomorrow Man Gets Too Caught Up in Its Pursuit of Preciousness
The film is content to peddle the naïve notion that love is the panacea for all that ails you.2
The retired recluse at the center of writer-director Noble Jones's The Tomorrow Man spends his days intensely preparing for the apocalypse. When Ed Hemsler (John Lithgow) isn't meticulously organizing his home and secret fallout shelter, he's posting conspiracy theories on an internet forum or glued to the local news. At least, that is, until a female news anchor (Wendy Makkena) starts to directly address him, at which point he turns off his television and tries to get his head straight. But Ed can't really seem to find a way of easing his troubled mind. Indeed, even after engaging in extended human contact via phone conversations with his son, Brian (Derek Cecil), the old man inevitably launches into diatribes packed with half-baked ideas and comprehensive survival advice.
You'd be correct in thinking that Ed sounds a lot like Michael Shannon's Curtis from Take Shelter, and for a short time, he follows a similar trajectory. But where Jeff Nichols's film thrives in the ambiguous space between objective reality and the mind of its strange yet plausibly prescient protagonist, The Tomorrow Man never gives credence to any of Ed's protestations of doom and gloom, seeing them as symptoms of his loneliness and isolation. And while his extreme paranoia is unmistakably a form of mental illness, Jones increasingly treats it with less and less concern as the film moves forward, instead using it as fodder for both quirky comedy and the catalyst for a light-hearted septuagenarian romance.
Enter Ronnie (Blythe Danner), the beautiful but equally socially awkward woman whom Ed meets while stocking up on supplies at the local grocery store. Her subtly twitchy awkwardness serves as the perfect balance to Ed's boisterous neuroticism; her steadfast use of cash and strategic purchasing leads Ed to believe that he's found a kindred spirit, one who's equally prepped for the end of the world. Naturally, there's a catch, and the ever-fastidious Ed eventually discovers Ronnie's deep, dark secret: that she's a hoarder.
It's a fairly ridiculous odd-couple scenario, but when Jones keeps things small and focuses on Ed and Ronnie's burgeoning love affair and Ronnie's clumsy efforts at tempering Ed's cantankerousness, Lithgow and Danner imbue the film with a warmth and generosity that lends their characters a bit of humanity. The two actors' effortlessly charming rapport enlivens, at least in brief spurts, a film that otherwise reduces its characters to their eccentricities, from her love of war documentaries to his appreciation of ball bearings.
But The Tomorrow Man displays an utter lack of interest in exploring how Ed and Ronnie came to be so reclusive. Following their initial meet cute, the film gets caught up in its pursuit of preciousness. And Jones's indifference to the more disturbing elements of his characters' interior worlds effectively reduces serious mental health issues to harmless neuroses. Late into The Tomorrow Man, Ed takes to the message boards to post that "sometimes people need to be who they are even if they don't want to be who they are." It's a sentiment of acceptance that's hard to argue against, but one that ignores the fact that Ed and Ronnie are in dire need of psychiatric help. And that's because Jones is content to peddle the naïve notion that, regardless of your situation, love is the panacea for all that ails you.
Cast: John Lithgow, Blythe Danner, Derek Cecil, Katie Aselton, Sophie Thatcher, Eve Harlow, Wendy Makkena Director: Noble Jones Screenwriter: Noble Jones Distributor: Bleecker Street Running Time: 94 min Rating: PG-13 Year: 2019
Cannes Review: The Dead Don't Die Is Undone by its Meta-Film Aspirations
In Jim Jarmusch's film, what starts as a subtle undercurrent of knowing humor curdles into overt self-referentiality.2
Jim Jarmusch's strength has always been his ability to craft films that seem lackadaisical and navel-gazing on the surface, but which are actually very methodical, revealing essential truths about the socioeconomic conditions of modern American life. The filmmaker's latest, The Dead Don't Die, zips through vignettes set in the small town of Centerville in the days leading up to the zombie apocalypse, and for an hour-plus, the film is sharp, acerbic, and surprisingly melancholic, probing at the generational divides between its characters, who behave in vastly different ways throughout the end of days.
Eventually, however, and perhaps because Jarmusch senses that his trademark deadpan doesn't have the same novel appeal that it once did, what starts as a subtle undercurrent of knowing humor curdles into overt self-referentiality. It's not so much a snapping-into-focus as a whiplash-inducing lurch into meta-film territory that Jarmusch doesn't seem to realize is already a very stale play for this genre of film.
Or maybe he just doesn't care. There's much evidence here to suggest that Jarmusch's prime interest in making a zombie movie is to emphasize the soul-deadening state of America, maybe even the world. So when the film's zombies roam around murmuring the names of the products they consumed when they were alive (Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, coffee, and so on), writing this all off as a lame literalization of the most prevalent theme from George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead isn't so much a scathing critique of his approach as a confirmation of the message he's imparting: that our culture is nothing but a zombified version of itself.
The Dead Don't Die is at its best when mulling the contours of the relationships between the cross-generational cast of characters. Neither Cliff (Bill Murray), the resigned, veteran cop, nor Ronnie (Adam Driver), his self-aware but generally unfeeling rookie partner, are particularly well drawn in and of themselves, but their repartee makes them interesting, as Cliff's air of wisdom and experience dissipates when he finally realizes that Ronnie understands the rules of their genre-inflected universe better than he ever will, and Ronnie, all stoical resolve, is unable to process Cliff's sobering, earnest emotional outbursts.
The Venn diagram of all things Jarmuschian and all things Lynchian has always shown a significant bit of overlap, but in working with an ensemble cast that throws together longtime collaborators with a gallery of fresh faces—all populating a mosaic of small-town life that's pervaded by ethereal dread—Jarmusch mounts something akin to his own Twin Peaks: The Return. The greatest affinity between The Dead Don't Die and David Lynch's series, though, is the shared interest in investigating how a younger generation can assimilate into the filmmakers' highly idiosyncratic styles and affect the tenor of their worldviews.
To that end, The Dead Don't Die feels most poignant when it threads the experience of its various characters and exerts a kind of equalizing force over them. The best example of this, and also something like the film's philosophical lodestone, is the eponymous country theme song, recorded by Sturgill Simpson and played in various contexts throughout. The song's ingratiating, hummable melody eventually illuminates how art can have disparate effects on audiences. For the carefree hipster played by Selena Gomez, the tune is an outlet for escape as she drives through the countryside. But it becomes downright oppressive when Cliff gets sick of Ronnie playing it in their police car and chucks the CD out the window.
That range of response is also reflected in the overall trajectory of the film, which begins in a register of playful irreverence—even as characters spout pronouncements of environmental disaster wrought by fracking, or ponder what kind of creature may have mauled two women found dead at a diner—before gradually succumbing to its anger. That isn't inherently bad, of course, but the film's dreary, didactic denouement proves that Jarmusch is unable to translate his righteous fury at the state of the world into a cinematic statement as compelling, creative, or weird as The Dead Don't Die manages to be when it's simply content to be a hangout movie that just so happens to be set during the zombie apocalypse.
Cast: Bill Murray, Adam Driver, Tilda Swinton, Chloë Sevigny, Danny Glover, Caleb Landry Jones, Selena Gomez, Austin Butler, Luka Sabbat, Rosie Perez, Eszter Balint, Iggy Pop, Sara Driver, RZA, Carol Kane, Larry Fessenden, Tom Waits Director: Jim Jarmusch Screenwriter: Jim Jarmusch Distributor: Focus Features Running Time: 103 min Rating: R Year: 2019
Review: John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum Sees a Series Resting on Its Laurels
The choreography is as brutal as you expect, but the repetition in style from the first two films makes the effect less surprising.2.5
At the end of another knock-down, drag-out pummeling in Chad Stahelski's John Wick 3: Parabellum, the man with the samurai sword sticking out of his chest says to Keanu Reeves's John Wick, "That was a pretty good fight, huh?" It's a throwaway gag, the kind that action directors like to use for a breather after a particularly bruising melee. But it also comes off as something of a gloat—one of a few signs in the film that stuntman turned director Stahelski, for better and worse, is content to coast on a winning formula.
The third installment in this series about a hitman who would really like to stay retired and mourn his dead wife and dog picks up about five seconds after John Wick: Chapter 2 ended. Winston (Ian McShane) gives Wick a one-hour grace period before he's "excommunicado" from the Continental, neutral ground for members of the criminal underworld, after killing a crime lord. A $14 million bounty has been put on his head, and as roughly one in seven people in the world of the film appears to be an assassin, that means that at least two or three killers with dollar signs in their eyes chase after Wick down every Manhattan city block.
The immediate result of this in the film's pell-mell opening stretch is that the ever-resourceful Wick kills many, many, many people. He kills them with knives, hatchets, and in a particularly imaginative sequence set in a stable, by getting a horse to kick an assailant in the face. Much of this stretch is mindful of what made the prior films in the John Wick series tick. In other words, Stahelski puts Wick through an increasingly absurd and bloody series of confrontations whose intensity plays off Reeves's hangdog demeanor with deadpan comic timing.
That fidelity to what's expected of a John Wick film is initially a relief, at least before the filmmakers start looking for new dramatic terrain to explore. Normally this would be a positive development. After all, just how far can you stretch a concept that's essentially Run John Run? But all the little story beats that break up the central chase narrative, mostly in the form of hints about Wick's origin story, ultimately do little to develop the story or character and just serve to pad out the running time with more human obstacles for Wick to stoically annihilate.
Having more or less set the entire criminal universe against him, Wick has to call in just about every favor he has. Given his long and only hinted-at backstory, that leaves the film's writers a lot of room to play with. Jumping from one roost to the next, Wick asks for help from the Director (Angelica Huston), a member of the high-level crime lords known as the High Table, and Sofia (Halle Berry), an ex-assassin who owes Wick a debt and who's just as good as he is with a blade and a gun, only she has a pair of kill-on-command canines at her side.
It's satisfying to watch as John Wick 3 expands the glimmers of fantastical world-building that had previously gilded the series's retired-killer-on-the-run narrative. The outré garnishes like the gold-coin currency, the killer spies disguised as homeless people, and the Continental—lavish, crooks-only hotels that suggest what might happen if Ian Schrager got the chance to whip up something for the mob—work as a baroque counterpoint to the stripped-down economy of Wick's dialogue. His response to what he needs for help as the High Table's stormtroopers close in for the kill? "Guns. Lots of guns."
The returning cast continues to provide greater and more nuanced depth of character than is called on from Reeves, especially Lance Reddick as a serenely authoritative Continental concierge, a scrappy Laurence Fishburne as the lord of the homeless, and the ever-lugubrious McShane as the New York Continental's sherry-sipping manager. Asia Kate Dillon also makes a fierce new entry to the series as the Adjudicator, a steely emissary from the High Table.
The production design doesn't disappoint, either, with its chiaroscuro portrait of an always rainy and crowded New York. Splashes of neon and lens flare play off the antiquated production design. Anachronisms like old-fashioned yellow cabs and 1970s-era computers are paired with a cutting-edge armory of high-tech weapons and oddball details like the criminal underworld secretaries costumed like Suicide Girls who decided to enter the work force.
As for the action choreography, it's as brutal as you expect, though the repetition in style from the first two films makes the effect less surprising. Wick piles up bodies by the dozen and never puts one bullet in a goon's head when three or four will more effectively splatter his brains over the wall. Besides the previously mentioned throwdown in a stable, though, the only other fight scene in the film that stands out is the one set inside an antique store: The unarmed Wick and his blade-preferring attackers have murderous fun smashing open and utilizing the contents of one display case, throwing knife after knife at each other.
But the further the film illuminates the spiderweb of criminal enterprise undergirding its world, the more burdensome the overlong story becomes. The somewhat blasé tone that played as just slightly tongue-in-cheek in the first John Wick is starting by this point to feel like complacency. But given the repetitive nature of much of this entry's narrative, the eventually numbing action choreography—punch, flip, stab, shoot, punch, flip, stab, shoot—and the setup for more of the same in a now seemingly inevitable John Wick 4, it's possible that even fans could wind up as exhausted as Wick himself.
Cast: Keanu Reeves, Halle Berry, Ian McShane, Laurence Fishburne, Asia Kate Dillon, Mark Dacascos, Lance Reddick, Anjelica Huston, Tobias Segal, Said Taghmaoui, Jerome Flynn Director: Chad Stahelski Screenwriter: Derek Kolstad, Shay Hatten, Chris Collins, Marc Abrams Distributor: Lionsgate Running Time: 130 min Rating: R Year: 2019
Review: Perfect Is a Series of Lurid Pillow Shots in Search of a Soul
Eddie Alcazar's film is a purposefully inscrutable, wandering, disconnected, symbolic, and highly precious mood bath.1
Eddie Alcazar's Perfect is the sort of purposefully inscrutable, wandering, disconnected, symbolic, and highly precious mood bath that you'll either adore or loathe. There are stilted allusions to everyone from Nicolas Winding Refn to Panos Cosmatos to Mel Gibson to the granddaddies of modern cinematic surrealism, Luis Buñuel and David Lynch. But these references add up to nothing more than a catalogue of fetishes.
There's a narrative in Perfect—sort of. A beautiful young man billed in the credits as Vessel 13 (Garrett Wareing) calls his equally beautiful mother (Abbie Cornish), who appears to be roughly the same age. Sonny boy has done something bad, having either beaten his girlfriend to death or nurtured an elaborate fantasy over the act, which, in this world, is more or less the same thing. The mother, all icy, well-tailored matter-of-factness, sends Vessel 13 to a remote spa somewhere in a mountainous jungle where she once spent time herself. There, he's advised to choose his path, which entails cutting chunks of flesh out of his face that resemble cubed tuna tartar, and inserting crystal silicon into the exposed wounds.
Vessel 13's acts of self-surgery are the film's most original flourishes, involving some fun horror-movie gimmickry. The instruments for cutting the flesh come in a see-through plastic container, with cardboard backing, recalling an action figure's packaging, complete with a mascot that suggests an anime Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Vessel 13's scalpel is basically a drafting knife—a nice touch, given that this man is tasked with making himself over.
But much of Alcazar's film is fatal hokum passed off as a mystical quest for transcendence. In place of most of the dialogue is an ongoing voiceover, which is composed of non-profundities such as "The way out is really the way in," "In this great illusion of love, an object cannot exist without something else to reflect itself back onto itself," and, most hilarious of all, "The problem with the truth is that once you know the truth, you can't un-know it." Few films could recover from such an unceasing tide of nonsense.
Meanwhile, Vessel 13 wanders the spa's grounds while gorgeous young women hang about an atmospheric pool seemingly posing for a special collaboration between Rue Morgue and GQ, which Alcazar complements with a neon-bathed lightshow designed to flout his bona fides as a serious arthouse figure. The self-surgeries gradually turn Vessel 13 pale and bald, fostering a weird likeness to Jason Voorhees from 1980's Friday the 13th. Why would the spa's treatment, which turned Mom into, well, Abbie Cornish, transform this young man into a ghoul? It has something to do with facing your inner ugliness and expunging it so that you may become a carefree hottie again, and frolic on the beach with a new, even hotter woman without fear of bashing in her brains. Erasing said ugliness also involves elaborate black-and-white visions of a quasi-Aztec society, where Vessel 13 sees himself as a barbarian eating a live human baby. By this point in the film, one might as well shrug and ask, "Why not?"
Perfect is desperately evasive about what it's actually eaten up with: sex. The film feels like an excuse to corral a bunch of good-looking people together at a hip location and fashion a variety of lurid pillow shots. That's not an inherently unpromising desire, though Alcazar can't lay off the self-aggrandizing mumbo jumbo, and a sense of humor would've helped. The filmmaker honestly appears to believe that Perfect is an examination of privilege, particularly our ruthless standards of beauty, when it's really just an embodiment of the same. This interchangeable collection of sequences has no soul.
Cast: Garrett Wareing, Abbie Cornish, Courtney Eaton, Tao Okamoto, Leonardo Nam, Maurice Compte, Alicia Sanz, Sarah McDaniel, Rainey Qualley Director: Eddie Alcazar Screenwriter: Ted Kupper Running Time: 87 min Rating: NR Year: 2018
Review: Ritesh Batra's Photograph Lives and Dies by Its Frustrating Excisions
In pushing so many seemingly crucial moments off screen, the film transforms its main characters into blank slates.2
Ritesh Batra's Mumbai-set Photograph is a film as reserved as its protagonists. Full of quiet, contemplative shots of would-be lovebirds Rafi (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) and Miloni (Sanya Malhotra), the film strikes a muted tone that serves as a conscious contrast to the high-blown romances of mainstream Indian cinema. Even as it takes a subtler, more realistic approach to romance across class and religious divisions in India, it almost self-reflexively resembles a Bollywood love story, but only in outline form, as if its stillness were an effect of its having lost the musical numbers that typically define such films.
In the tradition of so many works about star-crossed lovers, Rafi and Miloni come from different worlds. Rafi is a Muslim from a rural village who works as a street photographer, attempting to force his services on tourists visiting the Gateway of India. Miloni is a young, bourgeois Hindu excelling in, but not particularly excited by, her courses on chartered accountancy. They meet one day when Rafi convinces Miloni to pose for a photograph, using his usual pitch that a photo is a material memory—the preservation of a moment that would otherwise fade away. Miloni poses for the photograph, but lost in her thoughts, she leaves with one of the two copies before Rafi can hand her the other.
Separately, the twentysomething Miloni and fortysomething Rafi are each coping with pressure from their elders: Miloni's parents want her to move to America to study, while Rafi still deals with admonitions from his grandmother (Farrukh Jaffar) that he hasn't yet married. To mollify her, Rafi includes the photo of Miloni in a letter, claiming she's his fiancée, and soon the grandmother announces that she's on her way to Mumbai to meet the prospective bride. It's at this point that anyone who's ever seen a romantic comedy can guess where this masquerade is headed, and that the film isn't going to be interested in a rewriting any rules. If anything, the places where the story does diverge from the expected path, as in a conversation between Rafi and a ghost, are more mystifying than meaningful.
Rafi's plan to hoodwink his grandmother is contingent on Miloni's participation. Luckily, he runs into Miloni on the bus, but Batra leaves their conversation out of the film, cutting to Miloni agreeing to the scheme. Her motivation, beyond the general impression Photograph gives us of her kind-heartedness, is that she's lost the original photograph Rafi gave her. The photo was confiscated in class by her creepy accountancy teacher (Jim Sarbh), whose attraction to Miloni becomes a minor subplot. It appears Miloni liked her own image so much that she's willing to play the part of Rafi's fiancée in exchange for a new picture.
Batra excises other pivotal plot points from the film, giving scenes an elliptical, allusive tone. The point, underlined by Rafi and Miloni's visits to a movie theater playing Bollywood musicals, appears to be the filmmaker's belief that he's telling a familiar story whose more rote moments don't need reiteration. Photograph tries instead to focus on interstitial, lived-in scenarios, like Rafi lying awake in the one-bedroom apartment he shares with four other street photographers, or he and Miloni enjoying shaved ice and kulfi, an ice cream-like desert.
But in pushing so many seemingly crucial moments off screen, Photograph transforms its main characters into blank slates. For one, the absence of the scene in which Miloni agrees to lie to Rafi's grandmother makes Malhotra's character seem inscrutable, a meekly smiling void. In a society chock-full of imaging technologies, the prospect of a new photograph doesn't seem a particularly strong motivation to entangle herself in Rafi's lies—particularly considering that he involved her by using her image without her knowledge. Photograph's admittedly clever conclusion suggests that Batra wants to make his audience swoon, but the film's contrivances and conspicuous excisions undercut our connection to the characters.
Cast: Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Sanya Malhotra, Farrukh Jaffar, Vijay Raaz Director: Ritesh Batra Screenwriter: Ritesh Batra, Emeara Kamble Distributor: Amazon Studios Running Time: 108 min Rating: PG-13 Year: 2019
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text:
Take a quiz!Jan Andrea -- Thursday, May 29, 2003 -- 07:13:37 PM
Found a fun quiz, survey, or other interactive site lately? Post the URL and we'll chat about the results until it grows tiresome. Then we'll do another one.This thread is tagged: onlinequizzes,tests,games
(All users will see what tags exist for a thread. Please tag carefully!)
32. I'd have done much better if I hadn't second-guessed myself in some of them.
I found it best to go with my first instinct. If you think too much about it you do second guess yourself.
26. And I knew about Simon Baron-Cohen (as I should, given what I do for a living anyway). I think he deliberately has taken the eyes from films/famous people. At some point I considered using this for an experiment we still haven't done (we will do it differently). I probably should read up on it. I have no idea how I got some of them "right", but, well, I'm supposedly neurotypical so I should get them right without knowing how....
an occupational hazard, sadly.
29. I had a harder time with the women's eyes than with the men. Even the ones I got right I had to think over. I wonder if it's because there was much more hidden by makeup and airbrushing. Or if I can "read" men better than women.
(thinks about life, laughs at that.)
I did about 7 of those and got only 3 right. Feh. I've never been very good at reading just the eyes. Maybe I should get tested for Aspburgers or something.....
I've always depended more on a tactile analysis.
33. Huh...
I did about 12 before I lost interest/ran out of time, but I got kind of squicked because I was getting every single one right. That seemed odd to me.
33. So much for my theory that I'm high-functioning autistic. I blew the women with heavy eyeliner.
The only ones I got wrong were ones where I disagreed with the response or they were too close together for be to distinguish, like bored and annoyed. Those are almost like the same emotion for me, I find it annoying to be bored and boring to be annoyed.
33. And I too had more trouble with the women than with the men. But, I also noted that many times it wasn't the eyes, but the lines around and/or the eyebrows that I focussed on.
Clever tat.
Does it mean anything?
I do not care at all.
I think the tattoo is ridiculous looking.
Lori, I agree, but I'm sure the tattooee doesn't care at all what we think.
True dat.
Oh it's totally ridiculous, but clever all the same.

subset: commoncrawl


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Sept. 11, 2005
On Saturday morning, an 8,000m course was cut short to 7,000m when the race took a wrong turn at the UC Irvine Invitational in Huntington Beach's Central Park. Sending a "B" team down south, the Gauchos wound up still finishing in third place with 104 points just ahead of UCI and UC San Diego. Chico St. won the Invitational with 18 points.
For UCSB, Justin Coburn (Jr.) got out near the front of the field. Coming through in approximately 4:55 through the mile he was looking strong as he entered the 2nd and 3rd miles. Just a few places back, a pack of Gaucho freshman helped each other out through the middle part of the race as they systematically moved up towards Coburn.
With the lead bike missing a turn, the field cut out 1,000 meters from the third mile. Coburn after getting out good continued to inch his way into the top fifteen. In one of his best cross country races for UCSB, he would wind up nabbing 11th place with a time of 23:15.8.
Waleed Totari (Fr.) and Daniel Cuevas (Fr.) ran together for the entirety of the race as they packed it up with teammate Scott Smith (Fr.) throughout the first half. A strong last mile saw them come up on Coburn with Totari taking 13th in 23:16.6 and Cuevas 15th in 23:18.2. Smith, continuing to show improvement in the early part of the season would wind up 27th in 23:42.8. The Gauchos fifth scorer would come from Stewart Harwell who crossed the line in 42nd with a time of 24:07.
The UCSB Men next travel to Palo Alto, CA to compete in the Stanford Invitational on September 24th.


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Regulating Wall Street Co-Editor Viral Acharya talks to Viv Davies, Chief Operating Officer at the Centre for Economic Policy Research, about the new book, Regulating Wall Street: The Dodd-Frank Act and the new architecture of global finance. He discusses the success and failings of the Dodd-Frank Act and its implications for the US financial system. He outlines the crucial role of derivatives, the new council of systemic risk, SIFIs and the different approaches to resolution in the US and Europe. Acharya compares the Basel III proposals with the US reforms and suggests what should be priorities for discussion at the upcoming G20 summit.
Listen to the interview on VoxEU.org.


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City Guides >
Electrical current is 230 volts, 50 Hz. European-style
two-pin plugs are standard.
Hungarian (Magyar) is the official language, but German
is widely spoken, especially in the areas close to the Austrian
border. English is spoken in tourist areas and most
Taxi drivers and waiters expect a tip of 10 to 15% in Hungary.
Waiters should be handed the cash, rather than have it left on the
table. Most people in the service industry expect to be tipped
about 10 to 15%.
Most visits to Hungary are trouble-free, but normal precautions
against petty crime should be taken. Pick pocketing and bag
snatching are common in Budapest, especially on crowded public
transport and other places frequented by tourists. Some bars, clubs
and restaurants in Budapest charge outrageous prices by means of
scams that target foreigners in particular. Be cautious of
invitations off the street to dine in certain establishments or of
recommendations by taxi drivers who are often in on the scam. All
political demonstrations should be avoided, as they have led to
violence in the past.
All travellers to Hungary must carry official identification at
all times; photocopies are not acceptable.
A handshake is the standard form of greeting when doing business
in Hungary and in mixed company it is usually women who initiate.
Conservative suits and ties are standard business dress and
business people should be addressed by their title and surname.
Business cards are often exchanged; Hungarians usually list their
surnames first. It is useful to have a local representative when
doing business in Hungary who can set up meetings and act as an
interpreter. It is important to invest time on building
relationships; socialising is a key element of this and
face-to-face meetings are vital. Punctuality is vital to all
occasions, and cancelling a meeting at the last minute may be
detrimental to a business relationship. Due to the communist legacy
there is an aversion to risk and plenty of red tape and therefore
negotiations can be slow-moving and patience is required. Although
Hungary remains male-orientated, being female is not a disadvantage
to doing business. Business hours are usually from 8am to 4pm
Monday to Friday, though summer hours tend to be shorter.
The international access code for Hungary is +36. The outgoing
code is 00 followed by the relevant country code (e.g., 0044 for
the United Kingdom). City/area codes are in use, e.g., (0)1 for
Budapest. There are often high surcharges on calls made from
hotels; it is cheaper to use public telephone boxes or calling
cards. Local directory assistance is available by dialling 198, and
international directory assistance is 199; callers may have to hold
for a few moments, but English-speaking operators are available.
The local mobile phone operators use GSM networks and have roaming
agreements with most international operators. Internet cafes are
available in the main towns.
Travellers to Hungary with goods purchased in the EU for
personal use do not have to pay customs duty on 3200 cigarettes, or
400 cigarillos, or 200 cigars, or 3kg of smoking tobacco; 10 litres
of spirits; 110 litres of beer; 20 litres of fortified wine, such
as sherry or port; and 90 litres of wine. Travellers arriving from
non-EU countries do not have to pay customs duty on 200 cigarettes,
or 100 cigarillos, or 50 cigars, or 250g of smoking tobacco, or a
proportional mix of these. Alcohol allowances (for passengers over
17 years) include 1 litre of spirits and 2 litres of wine; perfume
up to 50g and 250ml eau de toilette; and other goods for personal
consumption to the value of EUR175 per adult or EUR90 for children
under 15 years. Prohibited items include fresh meat and dairy
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© 2004 - 2019 LuxeMont.com All rights reserved. JustLuxe is an entity and trademark owned by LuxeMont.


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Website Design Company In India
TENET IT Solution is a professional Website and Software Development Company in India. Our company is providing reliable outsourcing software development solutions like MLM, (Multi Level Marketing), Travel and Tourism, Finance, E-commerce, E-learning, IT solutions, Corporate, NGOs, School, Colleges etc. TENET IT Solution provides creative & responsive Web Design, Web Development, Software Development, Internet Marketing, Domain & Hosting services in India.
We have an expert team of Web Designers, Web Developers, Software Developers and SEO, who try to provide best services of our client. You may rely on us to give your company a cutting edge, because we use the most efficient, flexible and cost-effective approach to software development.
We work according to clients requirements and their business goals. We always use latest technology which is running in IT World?? like PHP, ASP.net, Ajax, Flash, Flex, Cold fusion. So please come with us and find a finest technology in India.


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2007 Audi Q7 3.6 Premium quattro
OVER 300 QUALITY PRE- OWNED CARS IN TWO CONVENIENT LOCATIONS PLEASE VISIT OUR WEBSITE AT '''''' www. carsearchusaonline.com You are viewing another quality pre-owned vehicle from Car Search USA . We offer Very Easy Financing for everyone, NO CREDIT, BAD CREDIT, 1st TIME Buyers and BK (Bankruptcies). We also welcome all international buyers.
OVER 300 QUALITY PRE- OWNED CARS IN TWO CONVENIENT LOCATIONS PLEASE VISIT OUR WEBSITE AT '''''' www. carsearchusaonline.com You are viewing another quality pre-owned vehicle from Car Search USA . We offer Very Easy Financing for everyone, NO CREDIT, BAD CREDIT, 1st TIME Buyers and BK (Bankruptcies). We also welcome all international buyers, Clear title in hand. No disappointments. Don't miss out! We carefully hand select all our vehicles in an effort to deliver a superior product. We take great pride and care with all our vehicles, this is not just a business it's a passion. Feel free to call (818) 980 2277 and ask any and all questions prior to making your purchase. For over 25 years Car Search USA is a family-owned business that takes great pride to maintain the highest possible standards in customer's satisfaction. We strive to provide excellent customer service. Our Friendly and courteous Sales Team is ready to help you with any concerns. Our low-pressure relaxed environment creates a pleasant buying experience. We offer high quality pre-owned vehicles at absolutely unbelievable prices. Car Search USA attempts to provide accurate information on the automobile listed above. The actual equipment may vary. Please confirm all vehicle options, accessories and prices with a sales associate to assure accuracy. Excellent Extended Warranties up to 5 YR or 100.000 additional miles are available on most vehicles. We offer Very Easy Financing for everyone, NO CREDIT BAD CREDIT 1st TIME Buyers and BK (Bankruptcies) ALL WELCOME. Advertised price INCLUDES a cash discount of 20%, buyers paying with credit card and or financing the vehicle this cash discount will NOT apply. Advertised price EXCLUDES tax, title documentation and/or smog and regulatory fees. Monthly payments are based on excellent credit rating with comparable credit highs and 30% down payment. PLEASE VISIT OUR WEBSITE AT www.carsearchusaonline.com or call us at (818) 980- CARS. .TOP DOLLARS PAID FOR YOUR CAR.
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Our payment calculator tool is based on you having tier 1 credit and is provided as an estimator of your payments only. Your actual payment may differ from that shown.


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LOS ALTOS HILLS — Pinewood will be looking for its sixth state championship in school history Friday when it plays La Jolla Country Day for the girls Division V title in a 10 a.m. start at Sleep Train Arena in Sacramento.
Virtually the entire team remembers the state championship experience a year ago when the Panthers lost to Sierra Canyon of Chatsworth 47-33.
"Last year was a heartbreaker," senior forward Leeana Bade said.
As the one senior in the starting lineup, Bade also has memories of the state championship win the team experienced her freshman season, a 67-56 victory over St. Bernard of Playa del Rey.
"This is my last game ever in high school," Bade said. "I want to end it with a bang."
Pinewood (29-3) is coming off an impressive 61-38 win over No. 1 seed Brookside Christian-Stockton in the Northern California championship game.
"My confidence has jumped out after the way we played Saturday," Pinewood coach Doc Scheppler said. "I thought we'd have a lot of trouble with that team, and we didn't."
La Jolla Country Day won the state championship two years ago with a juggernaut squad that went 32-1 and beat Salesian by 31 points in the state final. That team was led by junior Kelsey Plum, who earned Pac-12 Freshman of the Year honors this season playing for Washington. Candice Wiggins, the former Stanford star, also played at La Jolla Country Day.
The team Pinewood will face Friday is not quite as imposing as Country Day teams of the past. The Torreys are 20-11. They went into the Southern California Division V playoffs just 16-11, but won four games by an average margin of close to 30 points.
"Their schedule was very difficult," Scheppler said. "There are a lot more great teams down south."
Mai-loni Henson, a 6-foot sophomore, leads Country Day at 15.2 points and 11.0 rebounds per game. Senior Sabrina Callahan averages 13.5 points and 7.5 rebounds. Sophomore Mariana Ecija, the team's primary 3-point shooter, averages 10.8 points.
"They don't have a lot of depth," Scheppler said of the nine-player Country Day squad. "They have an overall size advantage on us, but who doesn't? Their tall players are more skilled than Brookside Christian.
"It's not like we're playing the Heat. If we play our game, follow our plan, stay poised and confident we can have a good outcome."
With a 10 a.m. game on a Friday, Pinewood is going to Sacramento on Thursday and staying overnight.
"They've worked so hard to get there, now they're going to have some fun," Scheppler said. "Miss a half day of school."
And once the game starts, Scheppler is hoping for a pro-Pinewood atmosphere.
"We expect about 40 percent of our school to be there for the game," he said. "I don't think there will be a lot of people making the trip from La Jolla."


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Netscape is back, only this time it looks a lot like Digg.com, the social news aggregator that allows readers to submit and vote on news stories. The more votes, the more likely a story appears at the top of the list.
AOL-owned Netscape includes videos, as well as news stories, and categories include News, Technology, Music, Autos and Celebrities.
As well as reader-submitted stories it also uses in-house editors to compile news. These 'top' stories feature at the top of the page, housed in a rather charming AJAX mini-browser.
The Netscape launch was stage managed by Jason 'Mad Dog' Calacanis, who recently sold his Weblogs Inc blog network to AOL for lotsadosh.
Michael Arrington reckons this is a Digg killer and says it isn't a clone, largely because of the editor-selected stories. I'm not so sure… it seems like a very smart move by AOL/Calacanis.
But who knows what Kevin Rose has in store for us with Digg 2.0?
Digg is currently undergoing the redesign treatment and plans to broaden its reach to include more populist subject matter. Despite some reservations about the current voting system we think Digg could be a contender, it could go all the way.
Will Netscape steal the social media crown? With heavyweight financial support behind it we can expect big things, though AOL is a brand in decline and for me it remains synonymous with a poor online user experience. Presumably there's no chance of Netscape becoming a walled garden though.
Digg suitors should act now…


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NYU Fast Track Meet
Friday, February 24, 2006
at 168 St. Armory
New York, NY
The men's and women's indoor track teams competed in the NYU Fast Track Meet on Friday, February 24th at the 168 St. Armory in New York City. The men's 4x400m Relay team of Reggie Routier, Shane Smith, Jason Chin-Chitty and Armann Leiffson ran 3:26.46 to qualify for the ECAC Championships on March 3-4 at Ursinus in Collegeville, Pennsylvania.
Freshman Kara Grech broke her own school record in the Pole Vault with a vault of 8'10 1/4" (2.70m). This is the second time this season that Kara has set the school record.
Other notable performances:
Ian Lovergie - 4th place - High Jump - 6' 3 1/4" (1.91m)
Akil Williams - 6th place - High Jump - 6' 3 1/4" (1.91m)
Mike Landi - 1000m - 2:38.22 - personal best


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(1938-62) Bert Topham's observatory at 1250 Castlefield Ave., Toronto.
Castlefield Observatory was built in Bert Topham's back yard in 1938 and housed a 6" refractor. Some information about his observatory was given in the Chant Medal citation for 19411:
The dome of his own observatory is of his own design and construction, and is very light, cheap, and serviceable. It is driven electrically by an ingenious method of his own manufacture.
1 - JRASC (March 1941).
Observatory, Castlefield


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WLS could become an easy way out. Part 1
I couldn't sleep, and I found this website. I came across this topic of discussion, and found no one has "chatted" about this issue. This could have something to do with the fact that this surgery is just now becoming more and more popular. I experienced this with my ex roommate. She is a very [..]
Integrating Yoga Part Three
If you have reached a plateau where you are beginning to wonder how to expand your practice of yoga or how to get to the next level, this article will give you definite positive suggestions and solutions. By now you've seen the video, studied the various yoga postures on FitnessHeaven.com, you can do the Full [..]
Word Association
A method more likely to succeed is word association. You randomly choose a word. Then you sit down and try to think of as many words as possible that are associated with the word. They could be synonyms or antonyms. They could be similar things or related concepts. They could be adjectives or adverbs describing [..]
Polling for Dollars
Being a teacher and a counselor has allowed me to spend many hours working with that fragile segment of the population suffering from schizophrenia. Those most seriously afflicted are prisoners of the hallucinations in their tortured minds. This experience has taught me to keep the world of sports in perspective. Wins and losses, batting averages, [..]
Can add fun to exercise. Part 1
Imagine for a minute that you are not a fitness professional but, instead, an average health club member. In this mindset, what would you think and how would you feel during a typical cardiovascular workout? Your routine might be something like the following: Stare at workout time. Pick up towel. Wipe sweat off of forehead. [..]


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It looks like your browser is out of date.
To use all features of KLM.com safely, we recommend that you update your browser, or that you choose a different one. Continuing with this version may result in parts of the website not being displayed properly, if at all. Also, the security of your personal information is better safeguarded with an updated browser.
The history of Nyhavn is almost as colourful as the famous gables along the quay. Ships, sailors and a lot of booze have marked the history of this harbour. Drinking beer is still the preferred pastime: on a sunny day all of Copenhagen seems to come out for a glass of cold Carlsberg on the quay. But there is much more to Nyhavn.
Many of the houses in Nyhavn were once inhabited by artists and writers. Hans Christian Andersen lived here in 3 different houses over the course of time. Several of his famous fairy tales were written here. Andersen lived for years at number 20, where he wrote the story of the Princess and the Pea. Later he moved to number 67, and after 20 years he moved to number 18 where he lived for another 2 years.
Copenhagen's many canals are perfect for a boat tour. Dozens of boats depart every day from Nyhavn, taking passengers on a tour of the waterfront attractions such as the statue of the Little Mermaid and the modern opera house. There are canal cruises, hop-on-hop-off tours and dinner cruises. Less well known and highly recommended is the jazz cruise. This boat carries a complete jazz band and offers an hour and a half tour of the city's highlights.
Nyhavn, Copenhagen, Denmark
It may be hard to choose from the large number of cafés along the quay. One of the best known bars is Nyhavn 17, a pub that has been popular since the 18th century. Back then, sailors came here to drink, but today a diverse public stops in to enjoy whisky and various beers. The cosy interior of the café is decorated with dark wood but outside is even more fun: on sunny days there are patio tables on the quay, a great spot for people watching and seeing the boats come and go.
From the 1960s to the 1980s, the Hong Kong bar was the bar of choice for sailors looking to blow off steam until the early hours of the morning. Even today, the club is still very popular as the bar remains open after all the other bars have closed. Bartenders tap beer 7 days a week, 24 hours a day. This is the place for a late-night after-party, or for a cup of coffee in the early hours of the morning.
At the end of Nyhavn we find the Mindeankeret, a large monumental anchor in memory of the Danish officers and sailors who died during the Second World War; there were over 1700 men who never returned. The monument was first composed of a wooden cross. In 1951, it was replaced by the anchor of the frigate Funen which was stationed at the Holmen naval base during the war. Every year on 5 May, the day when Denmark was liberated in 1945, an official ceremony is held to commemorate the dead.
Nyhavn 7, Kopenhagen, Denmark


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IRONMAN Boulder Announced
Boulder, Colorado named as host of new IRONMAN triatlon - August 3, 2014.
Registration to open July 17: www.ironman.com/boulder
TAMPA, Fla. (June 21, 2013) – IRONMAN announced today that Boulder, Colorado has been selected to host the tenth race in the IRONMAN® U.S. Series. The IRONMAN® Boulder triathlon is scheduled to take place on Sunday, August 3, 2014.
"Boulder is a great triathlon city and IRONMAN has a rich history here through our IRONMAN 70.3® Boulder event and our partnerships with several Boulder based companies like Newton Running and TrainingPeaks," said Andrew Messick, Chief Executive Officer of IRONMAN. "We are excited to bring an IRONMAN® triathlon to this amazing city and to continue to help advance the sport here."
"Boulder is the training ground for both past and present world champion triathletes," said Dave Christen, Race Director for IRONMAN Boulder. "Because of its proximity to Denver, Boulder is the ideal Rocky Mountain region addition to the IRONMAN triathlon national calendar. The city is already buzzing about the event."
One of 30 events in the global IRONMAN Series, IRONMAN Boulder leads athletes through a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike and 26.2-mile run on a course that covers a variety of Boulder's scenic areas. The race will start with a single loop 2.4 mile swim at the Boulder Reservoir, which also hosts the first of two transition areas. The bike course will head north of Boulder onto a single 112 mile bike loop that includes Carter Lake. The second transition will be at Boulder High School just two blocks away from downtown Boulder. The two-loop, 26.2-mile run course will be entirely on the Boulder Creek Trail. The finish line will be on the famous Pearl Street Mall and will provide athletes and spectators alike an incredible completion to the race.
"Boulder is an athletic community that embraces elite sports and challenging competitions," said Boulder City Manager Jane Brautigam. "IRONMAN represents our community values and affords amateur athletes, many of whom are Boulder residents, an opportunity to demonstrate their extreme mental and physical endurance. We're proud to see IRONMAN bring this iconic race to our community."
"We are thrilled at the chance to host the IRONMAN Boulder triathlon in 2014. This race is the perfect fit for Boulder's iconic outdoor brand and lifestyle" said Sean Maher, Executive Director of Downtown Boulder Inc. "We've put a lot of time into research and planning and we are excited about the economic impact that IRONMAN can bring to our area and local businesses. Bringing this race to Boulder is a win/win for all involved."
IRONMAN Boulder will have a $75,000 USD professional prize purse. Additionally, the race will offer 50 age-group slots to the 2014 IRONMAN World Championship on October, 11, 2014 in Kailua-Kona, Hawai`i.
Registration for IRONMAN Boulder will open at noon EST Wednesday, July 17 on www.ironman.com/boulder. For more information on the IRONMAN® brand and global event series, visit www.ironman.com. Athlete inquiries may be directed to . Media may contact .
The IRONMAN 70.3® Boulder will take place June 15, 2014 and the Boulder Peak will be July 13, 2014.


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Learners with DisabilitiesPage address: http://www.mnsu.edu/access/learnerswithdisabilities.html
Prospective Students
Dear Prospective Student,
Choosing a college is an important decision. There are many things to consider when choosing a particular school such as degree programs, curriculum, financial aid, campus programs, and housing options. This is no different for students with disabilities. There are, however, some additional considerations that students with disabilities need to investigate when selecting a college.
Prospective MSU students with disabilities are invited to contact Accessibility Resources via phone, email or by appointment to discuss their particular issues and concerns and to learn more about how accommodations are provided at MSU, Mankato. We look forward to meeting you!
Julie Snow, Director
Current Students
The primary role of Accessibility Resources is to ensure equal access and opportunity for students with disabilities to programs and activities offered through Minnesota State University. The office also acts as a resource and referral agency for students needing additional services.
Students with disabilities are encouraged to schedule an appointment with Accessibility Resources to discuss their needs and access services. The student should provide current documentation of their disability so an accommodation plan can be appropriately written. It is preferred that documentation is provided prior to the meeting so we can review documents. Current documentation is generally considered within the last three years. Accessibility Resources maintains confidential files for the student throughout their career at Minnesota State Mankato.
Detailed information about the nature of documentation preferred to establish eligibility for support and assign accommodations can be found within our Documentation Guidelines.
With supporting documentation, students may be eligible for accommodations routinely provided through Accessibility Resources including:
- Notetaking
- Text in alternative format
- Alternative testing
- Sign language interpreting
- Early registration
- Assistive technology
The following pages provide specific information and procedures and request forms for the various, routinely provided accommodations. All of the following forms can be made available in an alternative format upon request.
Instructor Notification
At your request, Accessibility Resources will issue you a Student Academic Accommodation Request (SAAR) form which states that you are on file with Accessibility Resources and indicates what types of accommodations or adjustments in the class or instruction will better support your learning and/or demonstration of learning. Please provide your schedule at the start of each semester to Accessibility Resources so the SAAR forms can be completed. It will be your responsibility to deliver the SAAR letter to professors in a timely manner. You are encouraged to meet with your instructors early in the term if the format of lectures, classroom materials or exams makes it difficult for you to fully participate or to be successful.
Online or 7700 France Learners with Disabilities
Minnesota State University, Mankato students with disabilities who are enrolled in online only or 7700 France classes should contact Accessibility Resources if possible at least one month prior to the start of class to schedule an appointment and visit about their disability related needs. It is preferable that a meeting be held in person but phone meetings may be acceptable.Students should provide documentation of their disability prior to the meeting so we have time to review the documents. Documentation can be mailed, faxed, e-mailed or provided in person. Additional information including documentation guidelines and the university's role in providing equal access can be found under the "Current Student" tab.
Accessibility Resources
Minnesota State University, Mankato
Memorial Library 132
Mankato, MN56001
800-627-3529 or 711 (MRS/TTY)
Fax: 507-389-1199
To reach our office by e-mail please contact Director Julie Snow at firstname.lastname@example.com or Assistant Director Beth Claussen at firstname.lastname@example.com


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WAG Student Art Board Stages First Event
The Winnipeg Art Gallery's newly formed Student Art Board will stage its first event at 7:00pm, on Thursday, December 17, exploring and interpreting stories inspired by works on view in the EUROfix exhibition. Although STORYfix is created by teenagers, children and adults of all ages will find the evening entertaining and informative.
The Student Art Board provides young people between the ages of 15 to 18 with the opportunity to explore their creativity and design their own WAG-inspired events, while earning a high-school volunteer credit. Nominated by their schools, the students meet regularly with WAG staff to discuss and implement programs and events aimed at a teen audience.
"The WAG has programs such as Art for Lunch and Art After Dark to engage adults, and Family Sunday and Young Weekends aimed at younger children," explains Aline Frechette, Youth Programs Coordinator. "School Programs tours, although interactive and informative, are not initiated by the teens themselves. The Student Art Board offers this age group the chance to create their own programs, getting involved in projects that speak to them. As they plan events, members of the Student Art Board will gain valuable leadership and organizational skills working alongside WAG staff, and, we hope, create a lifelong bond with the Gallery and its collection."
"We are delighted to be able to expand our audience in this way," states WAG Director Stephen Borys. "Programs aimed specifically at, and organized by, teenagers will bring unique and fresh ideas to the Gallery."
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I am sure you all know that A.Seguso made a lot of these bottles. In fact I watched this one and it got too much for my retirement funds to cope with.Well done it is gorgeous.
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Yesterday, I took jaunted over to my neighborhood discount store (I live for bargains) after work and, after two hours of scouring everything from clothing and housewares, I walked away with a cute new dress (for $30—hello!) and a trio of hurricane candle holders that look fab in my living room.
You know what I also got? A workout. Boom.
According to a new British poll, the average woman walks 208 miles a year just by shopping, which can equate to approximately 14,844 calories (depending on your body weight, of course)—or about the same amount of calories in 67 bars of chocolate.
While perusing the mall can't outright replace steady workouts, it's good to know that shopping doesn't just provide retail therapy, but a legit supplement to your normal exercise routine.
Plus, I'll gladly take another excuse to make a pit stop at T.J.Maxx on my commute home. (Advance apologies to my wallet…)
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