Here's the thing about several films screening at the 10th annual Newport Beach Film Festival,
which opens Thursday, April 23, and continues through April 30: many
entries have been shown at earlier festivals in New York, Los Angeles
and elsewhere. Since the Weekly is part of a chain with papers in those
towns and others, we can check out how critics there felt about some of
the repeat pictures. So, to joining our "10 for the Tenth"--reviews of some of the best festival
features, documentaries and shorts--we add 5 More NBFF Recommendations (and 4 Other Ones):
PRODIGAL SONS Like Jonathan Caouette's 2003 Tarnation, Kimberly Reed's Prodigal Sons shows that DIY cinematic autobiographies can be much more than just indulgent grad-school-thesis navel gazes. Sons
has all the pitfalls of the genre--self-realization, troubled past,
lack of structure--and yet it transcends them thanks to Reed's ability
to get out of the way and let a great story tell itself. The film
begins as a record of Reed's return to Helena, Montana, where she grew
up as Paul McKerrow, a co-captain of the high-school football team,
only to later undergo successful gender-reassignment surgery and start
a new life back east. Reed's homecoming is upstaged by her adopted
brother, Marc, who's still jealous of Kim/Paul's childhood popularity
and confused by the fact that his brother is now his sister. Marc, who
suffers from the effects of a massive head injury in his youth, then
finds out he's the biological grandson of Orson Welles and Rita
Hayworth. And this is still only the first half-hour. While Reed's doc
lacks the wild iMovie exuberance of Tarnation, she has a patient eye, and this is what ultimately makes the rough but entirely captivating Prodigal Sons
a true documentary rather than a freak show, personal essay or rant.
Reed keeps the camera rolling as her filmed diary develops into a
portrait of an entire family--one that's bizarre, unbelievable and,
deep down, not that different from most others. (James C. Taylor) Edwards Island 4, Fashion Island, 999 Newport Center Dr., Newport Beach, (949) 640-1218. Mon., April 27, 5:30 p.m.
ELEVEN MINUTES Two years after winning the first season of Project Runway,
flamboyantly charismatic fashion designer Jay McCarroll
still hadn't launched his first clothing line, the pressure of being
internationally famous for being famous playing hell on his nerves and
insecurities. Beginning production then, doc filmmakers Michael
Selditch and Rob Tate's charming and unexpectedly perceptive
portrait-cum-procedural proves the DIY-authentic corrective to Unzipped, a warts-and-all chronicle of McCarroll's year-long preparation for his inaugural show at New York Fashion Week.
Hardly a glamorous daily existence, McCarroll--a stressed-out but
good-humored teddy bear whose naked sensitivities balance his
ego--scours Chinatown for cheap material, milks as much as he can out of
hemorrhaging budgets and unpaid employees, attempts to micro-manage
when outsourced work gets botched, and squabbles with his publicist
over creative compromises. What truly elevates it all is how the
directors (deliberately appearing on-screen at times) subtly address
our perceptions of filmed "reality," from their even-handed vérité here
to the more grossly manufactured confines of reality TV, a medium
McCarroll is quick to call "vulgar." Like Soderbergh's two-part Che--yes, I'm making this comparison--Eleven Minutes
is less about its subject and more about formalist processes (both
McCarroll and the filmmakers'), and shouldn't exist as a stand-alone
without viewers having experienced its other half, Project Runway. (Aaron Hillis) Edwards Island 1, (949) 640-1218. Sun., April 26, 4 p.m.
IDIOTS AND ANGELS Cult animator Bill Plympton's hand-penciled expressionism is most
recognizable from his shorts, likely because his deadpan,
spatial-distorting sight gags often can't sustain momentum in feature
form, almost by design. Yet his beautifully creepy fifth film somehow
transcends this limitation and proves his most fully realized yet--a
grim fairy-tale comedy, told without a word of dialogue, about a
truculent businessman who discovers angelic wings sprouting from his
back. The mean bastard undergoes a spiritual awakening as his new
appendages thwart his every transgression, a humiliating
rise-fall-and-rise tale that affects a bar owner and his salsa-dancing
wife, a conniving surgeon and a town full of arson victims. Less
concerned with gags than nimble storytelling and wide-screen aesthetics
(every brooding corner of the frame is blotted in monochromatic noir
hues), Plympton mines elegance from the utterly gonzo. (AH). Edwards Island 4, (949) 640-1218. Sun., April 26, 4:30 p.m.