A/C

Friday Flickr Feature

2009-07-10T16:30:47Z

floozefactor snapped this photo of an unidentified object on the site of a former factory. To read the discussion about what it might be, see the original flickr page.

Student-made Street Art in Englewood

2009-07-10T13:56:29Z

About a month ago, Lindblom Math and Science Academy students placed a series of art installations in and on vacant buildings and adjacent lots in Englewood neighborhood.

"I Approved This Message" is a collection of site-specific sculptural objects that address a myriad of topics ranging from the culture of violence that is tragically taken the lives of 36 Chicago Public School students to homelessness. Some of the works will be driven by texts created by the students for installation on the viaduct while others will create large-scale installations in a variety of media using the public space as a billboard to express their growing concerns about society. Media range from vinyl on abandoned buildings to stickers to stenciled imagery.

The one-of-a-kind artworks were created through a partnership with The Museum of Contemporary Art, 35 students from Lindblom, teachers Nathan Diamond and Zack Linderman, and artists Mike Bancroft and Amanda Lichtenstein.

You can check out a photo gallery of the project here.

Brüno, The Hurt Locker, Blood: The Last Vampire, Il Divo and In Search of Beethoven

2009-07-10T05:00:01Z

Brüno

A review of Sacha Baron Cohen's latest sort-of documentary featuring a character that brings out the very worst in American behavior and prejudices is set loose on the world this weekend, and while there are many differences between the flaming Austrian fashion show host Brüno and Kazakhstani traveler Borat (or the British hip-hop wannabe Ali G, for that matter), it's the things that are similar to Cohen's other characters that make the film work so well despite a few shortcomings. With the very clear objective of finding the ultra-shallow and the wildly homophobic in the world today (Brüno does travel the world a bit in this film), Cohen is a master manipulator and instigator; he also feeds off other people's discomfort, and I completely understand how addictive that is, because I certainly enjoy watching it. And while a review for this film could easy just be me describing or transcribing joke after joke, I'm not going to ruin any more of the fun than the trailer already has. Well, maybe a little.

First of all, there are things in this movie that I didn't know you could show in an R-rated movie, and most of them have to do with big floppy penises. Most comic actors might make one joke per movie that involves someone catching him in a compromising position that could be interpreted as gay. Ha ha, big laugh, very funny, because of course no comic actors are gay. But Cohen's Brüno bathes naked in those moments, and he would be exceedingly disappointment if his gayness came across as anything but authentic. He has determined that every gay man is looking for sex all the time and that every one wants to be a star. Or, more precisely, he's determined that that's what much of the world thinks of gay men. He flaunts his designer fashions, loose and free attitudes, and sexual aggressiveness to anyone willing to look at him, including a group of four of the scariest hunters I've ever seen, soldiers at a boot camp, church leaders who specialize in de-gay-ification, a frenzied audience of wrestling fans, an angry daytime talk show crowd, and even Republican Congressman and former presidential candidate Ron Paul. The level of anxiety I felt at times watching Brüno was immeasurable.

Still, the film is a lot more scripted than Borat, which isn't necessarily a bad thing; it's just different. While Borat had something resembling a loose story about man making his way across America to meet Pam Anderson, Brüno's objectives seem a little less clear. He wants to be a celebrity for some reason, and the result is a series of disconnected pieces connected by Cohen's narration that seems to serve no other purpose than link the segments. There are also perhaps a few too many scripted moments between Brüno and his assistant Lutz (Gustaf Hammarsten), which are still funny but clearly not made up spontaneously. The two have something resembling lovers' quarrels, but they aren't a fraction as interesting as the encounters Brüno has trying to solve the Middle East peace crisis, or searching for exactly what his charitable cause will be to make himself cool in the eyes of the world. In a particularly despicable meeting with an agency that helps celebs find charities, Brüno inquires about what the new trendy charity is: "Clooney has Darfur. What is DarFive?"

Cohen doesn't seem as willing to drag innocent victims into his fun and games, which isn't to say a few folks don't get caught in his crossfire. He seems more intent on going after establishments and large groups of frightfully bigoted people. The aforementioned wrestling scenes starts up as a very funny experiment, but quickly degenerates into one of the ugliest displays of mob behavior that you'll ever see on film or anywhere else. Cohen lingers on the crowd's reaction to seeing two men kiss and slowly begin to undress, and he might as well have flashed, "Vassup, USA!" during the prolonged sequence. It's not one of America's finest moments, for sure.

For those who are curious, the version of the film I saw did have the LaToya Jackson interview taken out, which I'm kind of bummed about, but I completely understand. I'm sure the exchange will show up on the DVD in a few months, and the film certainly doesn't suffer from lack of laughs because of it. In fact, you'll be hard pressed to find two consecutive minutes of Brüno where you aren't laughing. Cohen and his Borat director Larry Charles have again assembled some fantastic footage that emphasizes both Cohen's abilities as a comic writer and a man who knows how to think and react to any situation or danger with comic timing fully intact. This movie is wall-to-wall laughs. Yes, there are huge sections of the film that are exceedingly stupid, but that doesn't mean you won't lose yourself in giggle fits. The film ends with a song, a tribute to Brüno and his never-ending quest for greatness and some level of stardom. Won't you help this gentle Austrian achieve his lifelong goal to conquer the world one nation at a time like his idol, Hitler? Make Brüno your charity, today.

The Hurt Locker

How can I put this as gently as possible? Let whatever higher power I believe in help me find the words. Ah, here we go: You're a fucking idiot if The Hurt Locker is playing within a 50-mile radius of where you live and you don't go see it. OK, I understand there might be extenuating circumstances that could keep you from going to see what is one of the best films of the year and easily the finest set in the midst of the Iraq War, but unless you're in a vegetative state, you've really go not excuse. If you don't have a car, start walking. If you're too young to see this R-rated fare, they're doing wonders with aging makeup these days; take advantage of this. The truth is, I don't think director Kathryn Bigelow's film about three men in the Army's Explosive Ordinance Disposal unit (in other words, they disarm bombs to the tune of hundreds per tour of duty) is going to make a lot of money, but that's entirely up to a nation that has for the most part dismissed films about war in any part of the Middle East or ones about soldiers returning home, whether the works are features or documentaries. It's shameful and it's very telling.

Look at it this way, American troops just pulled out of Iraq's largest cities last week. If this news makes you happy, go celebrate by checking out this extraordinarily tension-filling character study of these soldiers who locate and dismantle roadside bombs, often booby-trapped to explode when someone just like them tries to disable it. It was the 4th of July last week. Did it make you feel even a little patriotic? Then go honor our troops by celebrating their unfathomable bravery by checking out The Hurt Locker, based on a screenplay by Mark Boal, a journalist who saw much of what is portrayed in the film when he was embedded with an EOD squad. The film doesn't even have what I would consider much of a story, and that's OK. What we get instead is something so much more powerful and insightful; we get characters doing the scariest job on the planet over and over and over again, until we are right there inside their heads, moving our fingers across dusty wires right along with them, and holding our breath for as long as we can. Does this bomb have a timer? A trigger? Or will it be activated remotely by an unseen terrorist with a cell phone? Each bomb is different, and each situation brings a new set of circumstances that would drive most human beings to a resounding and well-earned mental collapse.

The actors' names in this film won't mean much to you, but they are well worth mentioning and learning for future reference (because there will be future reference). I've admired Anthony Mackie's work for quite a number of years in smaller roles in 8 Mile, The Manchurian Candidate, Million Dollar Baby, We Are Marshall and Eagle Eye. He's been in a couple of lesser-known Spike Lee offerings, and I believe he's set to play Jesse Owens in a biopic due next year. In Hurt Locker, he is meant to be the voice of reason in the ear of his new partner Jeremy Renner (The Assassination of Jesse James, North Country, 28 Weeks Later), a man so confident in his abilities that he forgets sometimes that he works as part of a team. Mackie is the voice of God that keeps Renner alive mission after mission in 120-plus-degree heat. There are a few more-familiar faces tossed in just to make sure you're paying attention (David Morse, Evangeline Lilly, Guy Pearce and Ralph Fiennes all show up briefly), but these exceptional actors don't distract us in the slightest from the real work at hand.

Although Bigelow has been known to get her testosterone on in the past with such films as Point Break, Strange Days, Near Dark and K-19, this film isn't about action as you know it. The Hurt Locker certainly incorporates certain action elements, but it does so in very different ways. The use of music is sparse; she uses silence and long stretches without dialogue to build tension; there's not a lot of yelling during a missions (the soldiers seem to store it up and let it out back at the base). It's almost impossible to fathom when death is a fingerslip away that people can be so outwardly calm and steady of hand.

Honestly, there isn't much more to say about The Hurt Locker beyond "Go see it." I don't want to reveal too much more about what little plot there is, and the film's true enjoyment comes from watching these character do their jobs and interact with each other in some of the most revealing and beneath-the-skin moments of any film set during this conflict. I suppose you might see the film as part ultimate suspense film-part character study (the film is roughly divided in half in just such a fashion), but all I saw was a master tension builder at work. The more we learn about these men, the more we care about them entering each new mission and the more we know about their fragile state of mind as they do. Watching The Hurt Locker terrified me at times, both for the physical and emotional well being of its characters. My psyche was seriously fractured after watching this movie, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Seek this one out like your life depended on it.

Blood: The Last Vampire

Let me see if I remember this correctly. There is a half human-half vampire 16-year-old named Saya running around Tokyo trying to kill vampires in the hopes they will point her in the director of the leader of all vampires, Onigen, who killed a bunch of people she knew and has haunted her dreams since she was a little girl. Somewhere along the line, Saya gets tangled up with an American high school girl whose father just happens to be a general on an American Air Force base. For those of you into Japanese anime, the title and story of Blood: The Last Vampire may sound familiar. I remember seeing the original animated version less than 10 years ago, and it was OK, I suppose, but hardly worth turning into a live-action feature. Apparently the people who made this film thought the same thing, since it looks like they spent almost no time or money putting together a halfway interesting horror-action movie.

Pretty much every drop of blood is CGI created, and it ends up looking like globules of oil or mercury rather than blood. If I've said it once, I've said it thousand times. CGI is not scary or gross, and dumping tons of fake blood into this movie doesn't mean much when 95 percent of it is computer generated. Zzzzzz. I guess I'm more curious why French director Chris Nahon (who did the decent Jet Li film Kiss of the Dragon) chose to make this film in English, while filling it with mostly Japanese characters. At least if it had been dubbed in English, I might have gotten some comic relief out of that, but instead we get characters clearly not speaking their first language, and perhaps not even understanding what they're saying much of the time.

Blood's bloated story and over-stylized look annoyed me from the first frame, and it only gets worse from there. Sure, Gianna Jun, who plays Saya, is cute and wields a sword like a sexy warrior, but once you get over that, the rest of the film is just plain dull and uninspired. Having the American girl character is particularly annoying because it's a clear plot to make American teens curious about this film (they'll get over it). But these are minor problems compared to the awful special effects, camera work, editing, writing and acting. Aside from those things, the film's a winner! But seriously, just because the film's token white girl (Allison Miller) looks remarkably like Kristen Stewart and the film has young, good-looking vampires in it doesn't mean you Twilight fans should start flocking to Blood: The Last Vampire. Please show at least a modicum of taste. Thank you.

Il Divo

Winner of the Jury Prize at last year's Cannes Film Fesival, this Italian work is both a perfect companion film and a great counter-offering to Gomorrah from earlier this year. For those who like a little more flash in their old-country organized crime movies, Il Divo has got you covered... sort of. Certainly quirkier and dealing with a higher class of criminal than Gomorrah, Il Divo tells the story of seven-time Italian Prime Minister Giulio Andreotti (portrayed by award-winning actor Toni Servillo, who was also in Gomorrah, coincidentally), whose sole purpose in live is to stay alive and stay in power as a member of the Christian Democrat party. He's like a shark that does nothing but swim and eat, only this shark is a little more scary. When he kills, you never see it coming because he never does the deed himself and somehow always manages to escape blame or criminal charges for his deeds.

The film makes it clear that, although Andreotti did sometimes have to cross paths with the Mafia, he wasn't a fan. Like all great villains, Andreotti viewed every terrible thing he did (all of which were followed by a quick trip to the confessional) as maintaining and supporting a greater good. And lest you think this is a story about a man who lived decades ago, think again. At age 90, Andreotti is very much alive after having served as minister of the interior, defense, foreign affairs and his current position of "Life Senator." As portrayed by Servillo (accurately, from what I hear), Andreotti is a soft-spoken man with bad posture, and an absolute understanding of human behavior. He managed to anticipate — sometimes encourage — a compatriot's deception and respond accordingly. While Gomorrah addressed crime at its lowest levels in Italy, Il Divo covers the upper echelons of political corruption with staggering camera work and freakish camera angles that seem more Wes Anderson than Francis Ford Coppola.

The film's final third focuses on the early 1990s as the Christian Democrats are finally brought down from power thanks to a series of investigations and a trial that tore the veil off Andreotti and his machine. The impact on the political system in Italy was so severe that many top-level officials committed suicide. And lest you think that crooked politicians on the level of Andreotti sit back laughing at the justice system during such trials, Il Divo shows us that simply wasn't the case for him as he goes through the worst kind of anxiety as his life is rehashed and ripped apart for the media and the people to see. With so many characters to keep track of, director Paolo Sorrentino does an effective job keeping the important figures and events straight for us with title cards identifying each character, their nickname (there are some great ones), and their position either in government or in Andreotti's organization. He doesn't quite take it to the level of a Guy Ritchie gangster drama, but it certainly kept me from getting confused.

The only thing I would have liked to see in Il Divo is maybe a bit more about how Andreotti's actions (good and bad) impacted the common people he was always claiming to help. We see a few scenes of him meeting with peasants and handing out small gifts and cash for bills, but I was left wondering what the general public thought of him. Journalists never missed an opportunity to verbally abuse him at press conferences, and sometimes they paid the price. The glimpses into Andreotti's past, passions and quirks are endlessly fascinating thanks to a flawless performance by Servillo, and the film is a beautifully executed drama that makes politics and the power hierarchy of Italy extremely interesting. Seek this one out. Il Divo opens today at the Music Box Theatre.

In Search of Beethoven

I'll admit right off the bat that I don't know that much about classical music or opera, but the two composers I know the best are Mozart and Beethoven, both of whom have been the subjects of two fascinating documentaries by director Phil Grabsky. In 2006, he released In Search of Mozart, an extensive and thought-provoking work that wisely featured long stretches of Mozart's music surrounded by analysis by musicians and conductors, who placed the works in context. On its surface, the film was a biography, but the musical selections and dissection of the music made it a wonderful journey through Mozart's life that went beyond the eccentricities and took us into the emotional heart of his works. It seems only proper that Grabsky has now turned his attention to one of Mozart's most popular admirers, Ludwig van Beethoven with the doc In Search of Beethoven, which uses a similar structure to the Mozart movie but with somehow even more emotional punch. Or perhaps it just feels that way because the subject himself was such a creature of feeling and sensitivity.

Once again loading his film with loads of gorgeous (and often familiar) musical performances (55, according to the press notes) and excellent interviews with Beethoven disciples, Grabsky's latest work, which makes its American premiere at the Gene Siskel Film Center for a four-week run, puts all of the composer's into a context and perspective that quite simply makes the casual classical music listener a lot more invested in this lovely material. I didn't know who a single one of the experts who converse about Beethoven were, but Grabsky has assembled quite the knowledgeable bunch. If names like Emanuel Ax, Claudio Abbado, Fabio Luisi and Sir Roger Norrington mean any thing to you, you'll be in heaven during In Search of Beethoven.

I think even more than the Mozart film, In Search of Beethoven maps out Beethoven's extensive life, loves and works, and pulls them all together in a chronology that helps each part of Beethoven's life make sense of the other part. He had a habit of falling in love with women who were out of his social class, he was often in ill health, he was a deeply spiritual man, and he didn't become fully deaf until much later in his life than I was aware. The film also explains why it may have taken Vienna and the world a little longer to appreciate Beethoven's genius in light of all of Mozart's accomplishment shortly before Ludwig became more popular. It seems obvious in a biography to do such things, but you'd be surprised how many films about artists don't. I wouldn't be surprised if PBS snatched up this film and aired it soon. It's a marvelous work and a worthy successor to Grabsky's previous effort. I'm told the director will be at select screenings, but I'm not sure which ones, so be sure to keep on eye on the Siskel Film Center's website for details, showtimes, and advanced ticket sales.

Calling All Hilarious Heretics

2009-07-09T15:36:51Z

Are you a Doubting Thomas with a sharp tongue and a penchant for reilgious satire? If so, the Best Church of God may be looking for you!

The local sketch comedy group has been a favorite of audiences and critics alike, and they recently were part of Chicago's inaugural Just for Laughs festival. They're hoping to expand their congregation of writer/performers as they prepare to begin a run at the Lakeshore Theater. Audition information is below:

Auditions for Best Church of God

Monday, July 20th from 6-10pm
Location: The Theater Building at 1225 W Belmont Ave., Chicago, IL 60657
Call Backs: July 21st from 6-8pm at the Theater Building
Email resume to: auditions@BestChurchofGod.org

Best Church of God, the critically acclaimed, hard-hitting religious satire is adding ensemble members. You must have at least 1 year of improv and/or professional theater experience. Comedic writing skills a plus. Prepare two (2) contrasting 1-minute comedic pieces; at least one must be original. You may also prepare 30 seconds of a song (optional). Accompanist provided. Email resume (include any writing credits) and availability to secure a spot. BCOG will run Sundays at 1pm beginning September 6th at the Lakeshore Theater. No pay.

Got $300k? Buy This Landmark

2009-07-08T23:22:19Z

Looking to buy some property? $300,000 might fetch you a nice two-bedroom condo in Lincoln Square, or you could invest in something more spacious: how about a 14-floor, 3 million square foot fixer-upper in the West Loop? Something that, say, straddles the Eisenhower as it becomes Congress Parkway?

On August 27, 2009, the United States Postal Service is liquidating the former Chicago Main Post Office at auction with the suggested starting bid of just $300,000. The building has been vacant since 1997, when the need for modernized sorting equipment forced a move from the old location at 404 W. Harrison to its current site at 443 W. Harrison. But vacant buildings still require heat, and the owners still have to pay property tax. So this hulking structure -- which occupies four city blocks -- has been a major thorn in the Postal Service's side for 11 years. In fact the Postal Service has tried to sell the facility by "traditional methods" before, resulting in a few failed bids.

Enter Rick Levin and Associates, the auctioneers hell-bent on bringing the gavel down once and for all on this massive structure.

The real estate auction firm announced in June it would offer the building, "to be sold absolute, regardless of price." Postal Service higher-ups believe the transparency of an open auction -- not to mention the eyebrow-raisingly cheap starting bid -- will result in its sale. Finally.

Obviously it's not your every day home buyer who'll end up the winning bidder. (Who do you know who needs 60 acres of floor space near Union Station? And it is near -- the building's structure rumbles with every incoming Amtrak.) Marketing materials designed to promote the building's sale are directed at companies looking to make Chicago their new headquarters, or so it seems. They contain phrases like "regional manufacturing output," not "loft-style condos." And a $250,000 cashier's check is required for all registered bidders at the event, to be held at the Intercontinental Hotel.

Still, the next month offers interested parties an opportunity to check out the landmark, which was built in 1921 and featured in several films, including Dark Knight. On-site inspections occur July 20 and 29, and August 6, 12 and 20.

What will the Postal Service do if the building doesn't sell? The future is uncertain. In 2005 the building was still considered "endangered," according to the Landmarks Preservation Council of Illinois, after it was put on their Chicagoland Watchlist in 1997. But even future buyers have proposed its dramatic renovation, which may not be in line with what architecture purists envision.

But a sale, regardless of the buyer's plans, will finally mean some cash for the burdened Postal Service -- and just before another winter spent heating 60 acres of parquet-floored vacant warehouse space.

Check out more photos from the vacant Main Post Office building here.

Call for Artists: "Chicago Week" from GB and Wall Blank

2009-07-06T17:42:38Z

Chicago visual artists are invited to submit their work to a competition sponsored by Gapers Block and the Rockford-based arts purveyor Wall Blank.

The four winning artists will be featured on Gapers Block, and their work will be offered as prints for sale on Wall Blank during "Chicago Week" in August 2009.

Works in any visual medium or dimension will be accepted. The only criteria are that the work be by Chicago-area artists and their finished work be available at the minimum dimensions of 8"x12" at 300dpi.

Proceeds from sales are contingent on print price and number of sales and will consequently be discussed with winning entrants after selection. No cost will be borne by the artists.

Submissions should be emailed to SubmitArt@gapersblock.com with the subject "Chicago Week Entry" by July 31, 2009 with the following elements:

* One jpg of the work that is 1000 pixels wide on its longest dimension
* Title (if applicable)
* Name
* Address
* Email address
* Website (if applicable)
* Phone number
* A statement about the piece

The statement is open ended. It can be anything from a traditional statement to a fiction narrative to a description of your process.

Artists may submit up to three pieces for consideration.

Questions about the competition should be emailed to David Schalliol at dcs@gapersblock.com.

Website Helps Working Actors Find Auditions

2009-07-06T14:22:06Z

It is hard enough to break into the acting scene without having to deal with searching for and deciphering audition requests. Now Chicago actors and actresses are getting some help from TheatreInChicago.com and its new Auditions Page. A comprehensive list provides Equity and Non-equity theater and film auditions throughout Chicago, making it easy for actors to find job opportunities.

The Auditions Page is updated frequently, and each listing shows all the information actors need such as audition material, time commitment, locations, play and character summary, and who to contact. Right now there are auditions separated into Equity, Non-equity, Dance, and Film, but another section for technicians, directors, etc. will be debuted soon. On top of auditions and job postings, there will be a Resources Page available to locate head-shot photographers, acting classes, and various other networking tools.

No sign-up or registration is necessary to use this web page, so actors can start using it today. For further questions, inquiries, or suggestions, please email auditions@theatreinchicago.com.

Friday Flickr Feature

2009-07-03T16:16:09Z

Watercolor by Vaughnda Johnson. Join the A/C Flickr Pool!

Public Enemies, Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, The Girl from Monaco and Herb & Dorothy

2009-07-03T05:53:18Z

Public Enemies

Although the trailers for Michael Mann's latest slice of magnificence emphasize the more action-oriented scenes from his film about the latter days of bank robber and cultural icon John Dillinger, in truth the strength of Public Enemies is not entirely in those moments. There are certainly a handful of bank robberies and moments where law enforcement corner Dillinger and his gang that feature some ferocious gunplay, but it's what happens between the scenes of bullets flying that impressed me the most and helps this become one of the greatest films about the birth of modern day crime and crime-fighting that I've ever seen.

Public Enemies also serves as a much-needed reminder that Johnny Depp gained his reputation as one of the greatest actors living today by actually acting and not simply creating real-life cartoon characters with pale skin, funny makeup and wigs. With Mann's guidance, Depp breathes life and soul into a man who has served a lengthy prison sentence and learned much while behind bars about military-style bank heists and what's important to him. Depp doesn't play Dillinger as overly tough or as some ridiculously suave ladies man. His flaws and qualities aren't nearly as easy to spot immediately, but Depp does a fantastic job of parceling out personality details about John Dillinger in a way that we grow eager to discover more as the film goes on.

Before seeing Public Enemies, I felt certain that the love story aspect of Dillinger's story would interfere with the story I really cared about. Quite to the contrary, Dillinger's whirlwind relationship with Billie Frechette (La Vie en Rose Oscar-winner Marion Cotillard) was the fuel that propelled his engine. And while Dillinger didn't have a great love for planning too far into his future, it's clear that part of Billie's impact on his life was getting him to consider getting out of the bank-robbing business for good after one big score with the help of cohort Alvin Karpis (Giovanni Ribisi). Cotillard's beauty comes on like a second sun — she's such a natural vision, but beyond the ever-present smile, she gives us a Billie that loves so deeply that she pays an awful price for remaining faithful and loyal to her Johnny. In the end Cotillard might be the finest thing about this film.

But all this talk of love doesn't sound like much of an action movie, does it? Mann's fluid HD cameras glide through the heists and over the shoulders of the robbers so effortlessly that you feel like one of the gang. Sometimes Mann puts the cameras so close to people's faces, you can almost smell the sweat when a character senses that something is about to go wrong or at least not entirely right. Watching the Dillinger gang pull off a crime is like watching a great movie about a Special Forces unit begin a covert mission — they move in for the quick strike, every man with his assignment, and move out before the cops can arrive and assess the situation. There's a bit of gunfire, but only enough to cause the right amount of chaos to escape behind. If a skirmish actually does break out with the law, Mann changes gears and shoots the scene like a war movie, hiding behind any protective cover while bullets explode around the actors and the camera. The camera peeks out from behind walls and cars to find out who's shooting, then retreats as soon as fire is returned. The gunplay is a far cry from the sleek, almost-choreographed battles in Mann's Heat. Don't believe for a second this is a Depression-era version of that awesome movie. Public Enemies is a product of the times it is portraying, and Mann's vision of Chicago and the surrounding areas that Dillinger called home are not particularly glamorous (or even recognizable much of the time), but they do feel damned accurate.

On the other side of the law is J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup, complete with a radio- and Movietone News-ready voice) and his newly formed FBI, which was allowed to do something no law-enforcement organization was able to do — chase criminals who crossed state lines, as well as compile and analyze evidence in ways that had never been done before. It was Hoover that both created the moniker of "Public Enemy Number One" and assigned Dillinger the title. I was truly intrigued by the birth of procedural investigative methods, and the man who used these new techniques most effectively was Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale), who made his career by capturing or killing the most notorious bandits in the land. As the film opens, we see Purvis personally kill Pretty Boy Floyd (an almost unrecognizable cameo by Channing Tatum). In many ways, the shift Purvis makes is as interesting as the character study treatment given to Dillinger. In order to capture Dillinger, Purvis had to call in a much rougher and more experienced set of agents from Texas (some Hoover was not in favor of) and employ methods of harassment and torture to gather evidence. It's clear that Purvis was a man who knew right from wrong, and Bale does an admirable job showing this slow chipping away at his character's conscience and beliefs. In many ways, he reminded me of Kevin Costner's Elliot Ness in The Untouchables who "became what he beheld" as he learned how to fight crime "the Chicago way."

One of Public Enemies' greatest assets is the presence of Stephen Lang, who plays one of Purvis' lead investigators, Charles Winstead, a cool-as-ice enforcer who reminds Purvis not only what the job at hand is but how best and most effectively to get it done. Lang has been one of the great character actors for decades, a man who dabbled in lead roles in his career in the stage, TV and movies, but for whatever reason is called upon to punctuate a production rather than lead it. He previously worked with Mann in Manhunter (he was the tabloid reporter set on fire by the Tooth Fairy), and has done devastating work in such films as Last Exit to Brooklyn, Tombstone, Mann's TV show "Crime Story," and he'll be featured in James Cameron's Avatar in December. Lang has a scene at the end of the film with Cotillard that will take your breath away with its simplicity and power. And the scene works because of Lang's steely delivery, tipped with just a hint of compassion. I hope to see him a great deal more as a result of this staggering performance.

Mann's script (credited to him, along with Ronan Bennett and Ann Biderman, from the book by Bryan Burrough) finds a variety of ways to bring tension and suspense to a film whose ending we already know. The sequence surrounding the events at the Biograph Theatre is shot as only a master could shoot it, but Mann adds a little something to Dillinger's journey. While it is certainly exciting to watch the G-Men plot the capture of the nation's top criminal, it's also rather touching to see Dillinger wander through his final hours of life having no clue what lies ahead after a showing of Clark Gable in Manhattan Melodrama, a film based partly on his persona. When gangster Clark Gable tells William Powell that he'd rather be sentenced to death than rot in jail for life, we cut to a shot of Dillinger with a hint of a smile on his face. When he stares at the vision of loveliness that is Myra Loy, we find out just a little bit more about why he found Billie so appealing. That is the greatest thing about Public Enemies: it's ability to teach us about Dillinger and Purvis and Billie and many other characters without feeling the need to spell out every personality trait or emotion. We watch their behaviors and their reactions, and we are allowed to figure these people out on our own.

And then there are the bank robberies and jailbreaks, staged so flawlessly, and punctuated with explosive gunplay and unflinching violence. Mann controls the action and drama in Public Enemies like a master conductor in front of the largest, loudest orchestra ever assembled. With films like Thief, The Last of the Mohicans, The Insider, Collateral and to a lesser degree Miami Vice, you get a sense that Mann is one of the few directors who cares as much about breathing life into his characters — no matter how much screen time they get — and making even the mundane seem important, as he does about the film's money shots. It makes me a little sad that whatever this mature and masterful work makes at the box office, it probably won't be a fraction of what the new Transformers movie has had so far (I hope I'm wrong), but this is the world we live in, and I get that. I just hope that when the dust settles, people are still watching and contemplating films like Public Enemies years from now. Anything is possible. A guy can dream, can't he?

Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs

I have very little love for the first two Ice Age films. They seemed like dumbed-down, largely storyless endeavors aimed at making a lot of money because little kids are going to force their parents to take them to look at the pretty pictures. If you put a gun to my head and told me that I either had to tell you the plots of the first two Ice Age movies or my brains would be on the wall, you might as well call the cleaning crew right now because I haven't got a single memory of what happens in the first two installments. I know I like some of the actors who provide voices, including Denis Leary, John Leguizamo and Seann William Scott, but beyond that I've found these films dull, forgettable, and hardly worth your money. All of that said, the third Ice Age offering (this one subtitled Dawn of the Dinosaurs and presented in spectacular 3-D) has its moments and is the best of the three so far by a longshot, probably because of the change of location. Rather than simply existing on an ice-covered world (or a world of melting ice, as in the second film), our heroes spend about five minutes on familiar ground before journeying down a hole in the ice that leads to a land where dinosaurs still exist, thrive, and have apparently mutated into pretty cool, more dangerous dinosaurs (that thankfully don't speak). Even the flowers and plants in this strange land are dangerous.

And with this new adventure, we get a new group of voice actors for the ice world and the dino world (just to clarify, the dinosaurs don't talk, but there are a few wacky mammals that live among the dinos that do), including Jane Lynch, Kristen Wiig, Bill Hader and the splendid Simon Pegg as Buck, a eyepatch-wearing, dinosaur-hunting weasel who has been driven certifiably insane from existing in a place where he could be eaten at any moment. In a funny way, some of the main characters (Ray Romano and Queen Latifah as wooly mammoths and Leary as Diego the saber-toothed tiger) are made secondary by the presence of so many more interesting things than them. Latifah's Ellie is pregnant and about ready to drop. Diego feels squeezed out by the forthcoming baby mammoth, so he decides to strike out on his own. When Sid (Leguizamo) goes missing, the group reunites to find him down in the lost world beneath the ice.

Maybe I liked the film because the threat of danger seemed slightly more palpable than the other films, or maybe I just liked having Hader, Wiig and Pegg around to make this stale franchise seem a little fresher. I also like that the filmmakers didn't try to make the dinosaurs look entirely believable; they have the same exaggerated quality as the main characters. And the 3-D really does add to depth and much-needed dimension to the proceedings. Beyond that, there's not much so say. It certainly doesn't come close to approaching the creative genius of Up, but it appears that co-directors Carlos Saldanha and Mike Thurmeier are at least trying to do something resembling original, and I'll acknowledge the effort.

As with the previous films, Leguizamo stands out among the regulars; there's something about his possibly retarded Sid that just makes me laugh. The scene where he tries to milk a male water buffalo: priceless. I'm in no way trying to imply that Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs is a perfect film — far from it. I'm just saying that if you somehow accidentally find yourself sitting in a theater that is playing it, you might actually get a few laughs out of the experience. And the kids at my screening certainly seemed to dig it about 50 times more than they did the last Eddie Murphy movie. What I'm really trying to say is go see Up again, but if you can't find a theater still playing it and you absolutely need to see a 3-D CG-animated film, you could probably choke this one down without dying.

The Girl from Monaco

One of the lighter offerings from the Gene Siskel Film Center's European Union Film Festival earlier this year is now being released on a limited basis around the country. Although The Girl from Monaco may come across as silly fluff, there's a slightly darker lining around the edges that eventually takes over the film about a highly successful French attorney (Fabrice Luchini) who is called upon travel to Monaco to defend a high-profile client (the legendary Stéphane Audran) in a murder case. The case seems difficult to win, but Luchini specializes in tough cases. Still, the nature of the case and the players involved necessitate that the attorney have a bodyguard (the fantastic Roschdy Zem from Days of Glory) with him at all times. The attorney marvels at the way the bodyguard can get women to sleep with him with very little effort of conversation. Sure, the bodyguard is more handsome and younger, but he tries to advise the middle-aged attorney as best he can.

When Luchini meets a stunning TV weathergirl (newcomer Louise Bourgoin) and she seems to take an interest in him, the bodyguard steps in since he too had a relationship with her two years ago. The lawyer is so smitten with this gorgeous woman that he neglects his duties on the case and slowly begins to lose his dignity along the way as well. There's no getting around the fact that any man in his right mind would be unable to resist Bourgoin's beauty or charms (she's about 90 percent leg), so Luchini in his delicate state of feeling underwhelming as a lover or a companion is an easy target. The bodyguard sees that the woman is simply using Luchini's fame to further her own career, and he does what he can to step between them.

The Girl from Monaco sounds like a bad episode of "Three's Company," I realize, but there's a little more going on than hijinks. The more we learn about the bodyguard's past, the more we realize just how serious he takes his job and how far he's willing to go to protect his client. The lawyer falls further and further into a pathetic hole, knowing full well this woman is bad news but still allowing her to lead him by the scruff of his neck wherever she wants. Bourgoin is a force of nature (like a tsunami for men), and it's remarkable how her smiling, sweet face turns particularly nasty when she addresses the bodyguard when Luchini isn't around. The one thing she can't stand in the world is someone who sees her for what she is, and the bodyguard represents a threat to her future happiness.

Writer-director Anne Fontaine (Dry Cleaning, Nathalie..., How I Killed My Father) puts forth a strong effort in showing us the gradual transition each character makes from light to dark as the film progresses. I'm not sure I particularly liked or bought the ending of the film, but there's a certain poetic justice to the whole conclusion that most people will probably get on board with. And while the film doesn't enlighten us much on unhealthy relationships or overly exuberant employees, that's not really its intent. These are three mildly interesting characters (four if you include Audran) put in somewhat crazed circumstances and each asked to react without time for thought. The results are chaotic, somewhat shocking and unpredictable. This is still a minor effort from a consistent director, but if you find yourself in the mood for something a little French, this ought to quench your thirst. The film opens today at the Landmark Century Center Cinema.

Herb & Dorothy

If you were making art or owned an art gallery or were collecting art in New York City any time in the last 30-plus years, then odds were that you knew who Herb and Dorothy Vogel; you may have even known them personally. The Vogels were not ritzy, high-class, stuck-up art dealers looking for the next hot artist to buy low and sell high. They were art lovers who spent a portion of every paycheck on art that caught their eye. They only bought what they could afford, which often meant they were buying works from new artists, a great number of whom went on to become celebrated pop, minimalist, expressionist, and/or conceptual artists. They were by no means rich — Herb worked for the Post Office, while Dorothy worked as a librarian — and they had rules about works they purchased: they would only buy what they could afford, they would never sell a piece (they believed their collection needed to stay together), and the piece had to fit in their modest one-bedroom, rent-controlled apartment that somehow managed to hold literally thousands of pieces that would rotate from boxes to the walls and ceiling of the flat.

The Vogels' (both of whom are still very much alive) passion and eye for art is the true focus of this documentary from director Megumi Sasaki. Through interviews with many of the grateful artists (including Donald Judd, Sol LeWitt, Christo and Jeanne-Claude, Richard Tuttle, Chuck Close, Lynda Benglis and Lawrence Weiner), gallery owners and museum curators, we learn that Herb and Dorothy had essentially pieced together one of the finest collections of modern art in the world in their tiny apartment crawling with cats and made all the more crowded with fish tanks filled with turtles. The film more than fulfills your curiosity just who these people are and how they had such an eye for these pieces. In many cases Herb would purchase an artist's rough draft or discarded work sketch because it was all he could afford. The couple also formed lasting friendships with many of these artists that last until this day.

Herb & Dorothy's highly satisfying final act sees the Vogels donating their entire collection to the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. After turning down many lucrative offers from other museums to house their pieces, the Vogel's very strict criteria about where the collection should land is explored in fascinating detail. The story of the moving of the art could have been its own film, it's so amusing and laborious. After watching the film, I was desperate to meet this warm and caring couple who have almost never spent a day apart in nearly 50 years. They go from gallery opening to artist's studio to their jammed apartment (which they immediately began filling again with more art after the National Gallery relieved them of their collection) with a vigor that is enviable. I enjoyed every second I got to spend with these lovely people, and I loved watching how they educated themselves on art history and movements and turned into the toast of the art world. You don't have to know much about art to appreciate this terrific work; and if you feel that movies today are void of interesting characters, look no further. The plays opens at the Gene Siskel Film Center on Friday, July 3 at 6pm, Sunday, July 5 at 5:30pm, and Tuesday, July 7 at 6pm.

Blackbird Brings Raw Emotion to the Stage

2009-06-30T16:18:12Z

Love knows no age. But when a passionate affair occurs between a 12-year-old girl and a 40-year-old man, love is questioned. Blackbird, written by Scottish playwright David Harrower, is the story of two unlikely lovers reunited 15 years after their forbidden relationship. After six years in prison, Ray changed his name and moved to another area away from Una, the young girl with whom he became sexually involved. When she sees his picture in a magazine, she traces him to where he works. The two are confronted with old feelings, pain, and resentment about their past. The play raises questions and confusion about sexual abuse, as well as the dynamic relationship between these two tormented individuals.

Blackbird received immense praise after its premiere at the Edinburgh International Festival in 2005, and it even won the 2007 Olivier Award, beating out competitors like Tom Stoppard's Rock 'n' Roll, and Peter Morgan's Frost/Nixon. Now the play is coming to Chicago. And with it the return of Chicago native William Peterson. This is only the second theater production Peterson has done since leaving CSI:Crime Scene Investigation, and now he is joining director Dennis Zacek (The Old Man's Friend) to perform as the guilt-ridden character of Ray. Joining him on-stage as Una is Mattie Hawkinson, a talented actress with a long list of credits in Chicago, including The Snow Queen and Half and Half.

Previews of Blackbird will start this weekend, July 3, at Victory Gardens Theater, and run until July 12. Regular showtimes will begin July 13 and go until August 9. For more information about this play or other productions visit the Victory Gardens website.

24 Great Walks in Chicago: Interview with Author Max Grinnell

2009-06-29T05:00:00Z

Max Grinnell knows if there's one thing that makes a city great, it's its walkability. An urbanologist and Chicago historian (he literally wrote the book on Hyde Park), his latest book chronicles 24 of Chicago's greatest walking tours -- and it's not just for tourists. I asked him recently about how he chose the walks in his guide, how walkability can be measured, and what Chicago's greatest neighborhood is.

How did you go about selecting the routes that appear in these walking tours? What makes a "great walk"?

I knew I wanted to take people into some of the city's less well-known neighborhoods, and I wanted people to have a sense of the historical and architectural milieu in each place. More than a few travel books consist of the well-worn troika of "Buy This," "Eat Here," and "Go to Hackneyed Attraction That Everyone Else Has Already Seen And Buy The Same 'Made in China' Schwag I Could Find Back Home." Pretty formulaic stuff for the most part, and I can imagine that 100 gibbons punching away on laptops could come up with the same stuff, provided they had access to the Internet and strong coffee to stave off utter boredom. This I knew I could not do.

To answer your second question, a great walk is pedestrian-friendly, first and foremost. Two of America's greatest walkers, John Muir and Henry Thoreau, didn't have to contend with these details, as neither of them were big fans of cities. These days, a good sidewalk with relatively few concessions to strip malls (which don't belong in cities in the first place) and high-end condo owners who must have their cars close by at all times, is a must. Jane Jacobs, chronicler of the urban condition and contrarian spirit, always championed this in her books, and she liked to talk about the "ballet of the sidewalk."

Cities' two greatest assets (and challenges) are density and diversity. I have to say that any walk in a city must put these things together in equal measure. For example, I love places like River North (which I believe is now referred to "RiNo," which makes me laugh), where you might have an old-school single-residential occupancy hotel like the Tokyo Hotel on Ohio Street within a Big Mac toss to the oddly compelling Rock n' Roll McDonalds, a slew of big-box chain restaurants (which shall remain nameless), art galleries, and so on. Density and diversity come together in River North, and in all kinds of funky ways.

What's a great walk you had to leave out of this book?

I had wanted to do a walking tour of Chicago's former synagogues and old blues haunts that have since been "shuttered" (this phrase is not mine, but I'm borrowing it from the Sun-Times. They like to talk things being "shuttered," rather than just closed, out of business, etc.). But if people are interested, they should drop me a line, and maybe we can all meet up and make it happen.

Tell me -- some of these walks are geared toward out-of-towners. But is there a great walk in a typically tourist location you think makes a great walk for locals, too?

I'm going to throw my hat in the ring with either my "Lions, Miro, Chagall: Sculpture in the Loop" tour or the "Transit Architecture in the Loop" walk from the book. Both of them point out some interesting gems that most of us with a harried lifestyle might never get to check out. I mean, there's a fantastic Louise Nevelson sculpture at Madison and Wells and I imagine thousands of people walk by everyday without giving it a second (or first) glance. And the Quincy Station in the Loop is a tremendous structure, and they even have period advertisements for hoop skirts on the platform!

Can you recommend a great walk -- with food and culture and booze included -- where Chicagoans can take their out-of-town friends, something a little off the beaten path?

Whew, a tall order. Let me get something going here. Take the Red Line up to Bryn Mawr Avenue before the sun sets so you can walk a few blocks to the east to see the fabulous Living 2007 mural underneath Lake Shore Drive. After the mural, you'll be hungry, so wander back west on Bryn Mawr to That Little Mexican Café at Bryn Mawr and Kenmore. Start things off with some table-side guacamole, and move on from there. After this, walk back west to Broadway and make a turn south. You'll walk south about eight blocks, passing some funky strip malls with various Asian goods, and you'll find yourself at the corner of Lawrence and Broadway. Cross the street over to the Green Mill and sit around to hear some jazz. I'll put my money on Patricia Barber (Monday nights) or Alan Gresik's Swing Shift Orchestra (Thursday nights).

Anything you learned while writing this book -- a fact, a place, etc. -- that astounded you? Or, at least, surprised you?

In two words: Albany Park. I've taken my students from the University of Chicago there for years, but this neighborhood is truly a microcosm of the future of cities in the United States. There's no majority ethnic group in the community, and it's such an interesting blend of Central American, Mexican, Middle Eastern, and Korean culture. I didn't really know it well enough until I started working on this book, and it is a place that all Chicagoans and visitors should visit.

Any new places you found while preparing this book that you now frequent?

Jerry's Sandwiches is a place that I wish I had known about before. Great beer list and fantastic eats.

What do you think is the most walkable single street in Chicago?

In terms of aesthetic appeal, I'm going to put my hat in the ring for two streets that are close to my heart: Fullerton Parkway between Clark Street and Halsted Avenue, and Hyde Park Boulevard between 53rd Street and 56th Street. During the spring and summer they have amazing trees on either side and homes that telegraph the high-toned residential architecture of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

The least walkable?

The least walkable street in my opinion is Western Avenue. Too many businesses dedicated to cars and car maintenance, and it always feels dreary to me. Not a good walking street in the least!

What part of the city do you think most Chicagoans take for granted? What's just above our heads, or under our noses, that we don't notice -- maybe something that's profiled in this book, maybe not?

The Loop, the Loop, the Loop. The Loop is always surprising me, and in terms of sumptuous and provocative architecture, it's a brilliant spot. It could be the punch-card like façade of the Chicago Metropolitan Correctional Facility or the mosaics inside the Marquette Building. Every year, the Loop seems to get a bit more of a 24-7 feel, which is a most positive development.

More information about Max's writings and latest book, 24 Walks in Chicago, can be found at www.theurbanologist.com.

About the Author

Katherine Raz is a freelance writer and the Community Manager for a non-profit arts organization. She's trekked all over Chicago in search of thrift store and estate sale bargains, and writes BackGarage, a blog about stylish apartment living on a garage sale budget. A two fisted-drinker and Chicago resident for over a decade, she lives in Ravenswood with her fiancee, Jem, and loves the Chicago Bears.

Review of 500 Clown and the Elephant Deal

2009-06-28T17:15:24Z

It doesn't take much to imagine a play date. Everyone has at least one in their memory.
Depending on where you lived or who was present, several elements might be guaranteed: dress-up, singing, cops and robbers, changing the rules halfway into the game and little regard for tomorrow.

500 Clown and the Elephant Deal, loosely based on Bertolt Brecht's Man is Man, seems also to be based on one of these play dates gone just slightly wrong.

The closest I can get to a storyline is this: Madame Barker is the main act. Her crew, the audience, everyone buys into that mostly because they need her and she needs them. Madame Barker is there to entertain you, the audience.

Like any Queen Bee scenario, Madame Barker has her crew (who sometimes double as backup dancers), who are devoted wholeheartedly to their spectacular leader. They do everything from seating audience members in just the right location to see her, to frantically criss-crossing the stage to locate her chair or mic stand, to climbing scaffolding to maneuver the spotlight on the star: Madame Barker, quite naturally.

The DIY burlesque show's charm is the characters' lack of finesse. Madame Barker is no professional, and the show is certainly low-budget: characters periodically interact with the sound and lighting crews, and they are genuinely excited about each scene's success.

The overall "storyline" is about as linear as any kid-created game. Characters change roles mid-scene (maybe an audience member, or maybe an ex-lover). Bad guys turn into good guys. Good guys take control over the mic and order the rest of the cast (and audience) around.

However, by the end, certain scenarios have become reality. At least one person dies and several, including the Queen Bee, end up alone.

Molly Brennan's performance as the fabulously crass Madame Barker ranges from aggressive in "My Love is Coming to town to Kick Your Ass" to a sweet and tender duet with onstage songwriter John Fournier.

The show, which begins as a one-woman performances, progresses in a way that allows each character to rotate into their spotlight, displaying a glimpse of their needs, fears and goals.

Audiences will understand that the follow-the-leader Cheetah, played by Matt Hawkins, is quite sad; the devoted Viola, played by Jessica Hudson, is actually bursting with sexual appeal; the dopey Bruce, played by Adrian Danzig, is actually quite mad; and the dark Shank, played by Paul Kalina, will not be told what or who he is.

The cast's performance is impressive if only for the show's physical demands. Actors scale walls, struggle with a rope and pulley system, run in the aisles and display an outpouring of physical strength.

Watching Elephant Deal is not unlike watching kids figure things out for themselves from social cues and trial and error. The difference on this stage, however, is you see much deeper into these characters and, depending on which kid you were growing up, can connect in quite completely in a unique way.

500 Clown's mission is to use action-based performance to tell long-form dramatic stories. At the heart of what the non-profit company does is to get the audience to be an active player in a spontaneous moment.

500 Clown and the Elephant Deal is playing at Steppenwolfe Upstairs Theater, 1650 N. Halsted St., Wednesday through Saturday until July 11.

Friday Flickr Feature

2009-06-26T16:36:18Z

A fire hydrant made of canned goods on display at the Illinois Institute of Art - Chicago. Captured by swanksalot.

Chances Dances Offers Funds to Fierce Artists

2009-06-25T18:07:32Z

Are you an artist who identifies yourself (or your work) as LGBTIQ? Ever wish for some grant money to put toward your projects? Chances Dances, the popular monthly dance party that seeks to brings together the varied LGBTIQ communities of Chicago and create a safe space for all gender expressions, could grant you this wish--in the form of $500. The Critical Fierceness Grant provides financial assistance to queer artists in order to foster "personal exploration, community development and radical change through art." The application is available here, and be sure to apply soon! The deadline is June 30.

Catch Chances Dances on the third Monday of the month at the Subterranean (2011 W. North Ave.), as well as the spin-off dance party, Off Chances, on the second Tuesday of the month at Danny's (1959 W. Dickens Ave.).

Email chances.dances[at]gmail.com for more information.

The Room, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, Whatever Works, Cheri, Jerichow, Break-Up Date and A Wink and a Smile

2009-06-25T06:17:26Z

Before we dive into this week's offerings, I wanted to tell you about a little movie that you've probably never heard of (or only heard about in whispered tones in dark alleys) that is finally, after six long years of playing almost non-stop in a Los Angeles theater, making its way to a screen in Chicago. The film is called The Room, and that's really all you need to know about it, other than it's playing at midnight shows at the Music Box Theatre June 26 and 27, and July 24 and 25.

I get mad when I see critics attempt to review or even summarize The Room because it's impossible to capture in words just how truly bad this movie from writer-director-producer-star Tommy Wiseau is. I love that Chicago audiences will finally get a chance to watch this movie, one that needs to be seen in the comfort and safety of a crowd. The film is simply too dangerous to watch alone at home. That being said, the only thing greater than The Room as a theatrical event are the extras on the DVD release, which features an interview with Wiseau that is beyond hilarious. Free promo DVDs will be given out to the first 50 people at each Music Box performance.

Wiseau himself has taken to calling the film a dark comedy, which is a load of crap. I firmly believe he thought he was making high drama when he spent what I'm hearing is millions of dollars making this movie. But don't take my word for it. This film has a celebrity endorsement from none other than Paul Rudd, who first brought the film to my attention a couple years ago. More recently, Rudd's I Love You, Man director John Hamburg told me, "I've been in Paul's bedroom. He has a little table next to his side of the bed, and the only thing on that table is a copy of The Room." There you have it. If someone told me today that The Room was an elaborate hoax, made deliberately bad to make people laugh, I'd almost believe it, but not quite. There are things in this film that you just couldn't make this bad on purpose. See it and then see it again. You've been warned and encouraged; the rest is up to you. All else opening this week pales in comparison, but here it is anyway.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

I got home after watching the new Transformers film a little dazed, with a mild headache, ears ringing, slight vertigo, and a low-level depression knowing that a generation of moviegoers (perhaps even two generations) would watch Michael Bay's latest offering and consider it... impressive, groundbreaking? Who knows? But the film's complete and utter dismissal of anything resembling a cohesive story or even two-dimensional character building is what disturbed me most. And while I could be like many, and simply sit here and type a succession of expletive-punctuated statements about Bay's abilities as a filmmaker or the utter contempt he has for his audience's ability to appreciate a well-conceived plot, that's not what I'm going to do here. I'm simply going to walk through what I liked and what I did not, and hope that I don't let my emotions and my throbbing headache get the best of me.

I did something last weekend that I rarely do before going into a sequel — I went back and watched the original. I did this because I literally could not remember a single thing about the first Transformers movie. I also went back to reread my review of the film, and I was surprised by how accepting I was of large portions of what I saw two years ago. But I realized while watching Revenge of the Fallen that many of the elements I appreciated about the first film still hold true. The one thing I will always give Bay credit for is showing us something we have never seen before, and this film has about 5,000 such moments. Seriously, if I'd had the ability to turn off the audio on this film, I might have done just that, because the special effects are often pretty mind-blowing. From the tiniest insect-size robot to the enormous, pyramid-destroying Decepticon made up of about a dozen different construction vehicles, Bay literally hurls new robot after new robot at us to the point where we barely get a glance at the Transformer characters from the previous film.

Bay stages battle sequences the way a three-year-old plays with Legos. He dumps everything out at once in one loud crash, and just starts snapping pieces together and tossing them into each other. I'll admit, there is something mildly awe-inspiring about watching that much money get hurled around the screen. And much like a child at play, things get loud, there's a lot of screaming, and shit gets destroyed. I could go through all of the terrible plot decisions, confusing story elements that never really get cleared up, but there just isn't the time and I don't have the inclination. OK, maybe one thing — if the Decepticons can make themselves look human (as one robot who visits Sam at college does), why don't they all just do that? Wouldn't that make their job of infiltrating and destroying humans so much easier? Here's another question, Do any of the woman in Michael Bay's universe own skirts that go below the upper thigh other than Sam Witwicky's mom (which still doesn't stop her from being the butt of some pretty overt sexual humor)?

As much fun as it is driving a semi through the plot holes of a Michael Bay movie, that's not really reviewing the film. But it is part of the movie-going experience of seeing Revenge of the Fallen. So much of the film and the decisions the characters make seem counterintuitive. For example, why would there be dumb robots? For all of the discussion and sensitivity displayed about the home-bots, Mudflap and Skids (both voiced by a white voice actor named Tom Kenny, best known as the voice of SpongeBob SquarePants), nothing will quite prepare you for just how patently offensive these characters are. And I understand that all the Autobots pick up human characteristics and voices from watching our media, but what the hell were these bug-eyed, gold-toothed, illiterate robots observing, an Al Jolson movie? The filmmakers decided to bring back John Turturro for this second go-round, so we don't really need additional comic relief in a film like this.

What else do you really need to know? Shia LaBeouf and Megan Fox are back as now-established couple Sam and Mikaela. Sam is off to college, leaving Mikaela to work in her auto-body shop with her dad (now released from prison and largely dialogue free). The Autobots have incorporated themselves nicely with a special branch of the military that seeks out Decepticons and kills them. So all is right in the world until an ancient race of Transformers who visited earth thousands of years ago and were frozen deep in the ice are set free. Then there's some crap about Decepticons who still exist on the rapidly crumbling home planet of the Transformers. Then it turns out that some of the exhibits at the Air and Space Museum in D.C. are actually Transformers, but having just seen the Night at the Museum Sequel (and having grown up in the D.C. area), it's very clearly not the real museum. Then there's the old British Decepticon who it turns out has switched sides; then there's the Decepticon named The Fallen (voiced by Tony Todd) who's even more evil than Megatron (still voiced by Hugo Weaving). Then Sam gets a secret robot language imprinted on his brain. Then they end up destroying pyramids in Egypt. Got all that? Now explain it to me, please.

Look, I don't need a film to make 100 percent sense to me for me to enjoy myself watching it. But when a film like Revenge of the Fallen does everything in its power to create as much noise as it can to push you away from the screen, how am I supposed to get engaged in a film like that? The truth is, I've always appreciated Michael Bay's ability to direct large-scale, complicated action sequences, but this is the film that finally defeated him. The sequences just don't make any goddamned sense a lot of the time. There are too many characters, and, yes, I'll say it, a lot of these robots look alike, so sometimes I can't even tell who I'm supposed to be rooting for. As I mentioned earlier, the special effects in this film are seamless, while being almost impossible to appreciate fully. This was the absolutely most frustrating part of watching this movie. I could tell something cool was going on behind all the dust and spare parts, but I'll be damned if I could pass a test on what I was seeing or hearing.

Look, I'm neither a Michael Bay apologist nor a knee-jerk hater. I admired some of what he accomplished in the first Transformers effort, and was utterly turned off by most of what was going on in Revenge of the Fallen. The entire experience watching this film was like witnessing a filmmaker dare his audience to try to understand or even like his movie. I'm not the sort of person who can turn off my brain entirely or lower my expectation in advance of any movie, but Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen really made me wish I could have done either. This isn't the worst film I've seen this year, or even this summer, but it's the one that tries the hardest and still manages to fail so completely.

Whatever Works

The story goes that more than 30 years ago, Woody Allen wrote the script that became Whatever Works for Zero Mostel to star in. Motel died in 1977, so Allen put the script aside. When the most recent writers' strike loomed last year, Allen took the script, updated it, and made it his latest film starring the great Larry David ("Curb Your Enthusiasm") as one of the least likable men on the planet, Boris Yellnikoff. Everyone is assuming that Boris/Larry is a stand-in for Allen, a mistake a lot of critics and fans have made over the years. But the truth is Allen would never have played a character as cruel toward and judgmental of others; if anything, he would have turned that loathing against himself. But Boris is a certifiable genius, making everyone else he comes into contact with a microbe, a worm, an imbecile, and he has no problem letting them know that he feels this way about them.

Putting aside the brilliance of Vicky Cristina Barcelona (which to me was a perfect blend of comedy and drama), Whatever Works is one of Allen's most consistently funny films in years, but it might be difficult for some to recognize that with David's often venomous diatribes against humanity (sometimes aimed at young children or at those in his life who care about him most). When a barely legal young woman from the South named Melodie St. Ann Celestine (The Wrestler's Evan Rachel Wood) enters his life seeking shelter and food after roaming the streets of New York, Boris naturally rejects the very notion of her, but her unbridled optimism and sunny nature gets the best of him. Boris is also intrigued by her unformed and uninformed feelings and philosophies, and he's more than happy to school her on his doom-and-gloom window to the world.

I've always had generally positive feelings about Wood as an actress, but between The Wrestler and Whatever Works, she's transformed into a performer whose work I will actually anticipate from this point forward. When she enters the story, you assume she's going to be a one-note Southern ditz, but there's a wonderful, subtle metamorphosis going on here that is pretty special. Melodie begins to quote Boris to others without truly understanding all of what his theories mean, and when she spouts off about "We're all going to die, so what's the point?", it doesn't ring true.

Patricia Clarkson enters the story as Marietta, Melodie's Bible-thumping mother, who is appalled to find out that her daughter has taken up with this much older man. Once again, Allen surprises us in his script by making Marietta's adventures in the big city perhaps even a bit more interesting than her daughter's. Eventually Melodie's father (Ed Begley Jr.) comes searching for his ladies as well, and eventually Melodie's connection to Boris changes in ways she does not anticipate. I don't want to ruin all of the surprises in Whatever Works (and there are quite a few), but throught it all, Larry David barrels through all of the new-age nonsense and the Up with People attitudes to deliver a character that is quite different than the one he plays on "Curb," while maintaining what it is I've always loved about the guy — he delivers every line like it's the unmistakeable, undeniable truth. Although he doesn't do it often (and that's a good thing), occasionally Boris addresses the audience directly — he even makes mention of the fact that there's an audience in a theater watching him, people who paid good money to hear him tell his life story. The other characters around him see him talking to someone, but they don't see an audience. Boris' reason for this? Because he's the only one who sees the big picture. I guess in that sense, I do see the relationship between Boris and Allen.

Whatever Works is yet another example of Allen coaxing out a romance between an older man and younger girl, a theme that I thought he maybe had gotten all the mileage he could have years ago, but this story feels fresh thanks to its Pygmalion/My Fair Lady twist (despite the fact that Boris says right off the bat that his story is not like those; he's both wrong and right). But the simple truth is, the film made me laugh a great deal, and about as much as it made me think about a variety of subjects, including the impossible art of letting go and how there is almost without a doubt someone for everyone. I've heard Whatever Works described as "classic" Woody Allen, and I respectfully disagree. There's a maturity and intelligence in this movie that I'm not sure Allen could have pulled off when he'd originally intended on making it. If my chronology is correct, this film would have been his follow-up to Annie Hall, and I'm by no means saying that lovely work is lacking either of these qualities. But I firmly believe that Whatever Works could only have been successfully written by a much older man than Allen was in the mid- to late 1970s. I can't remember when something that showcased a character so uncomfortable in the world still felt like comfort food to me. This is great stuff. The film opens Friday at the Landmark Century Center Cinema.

Cheri

There are few filmmakers I can count on to deliver a film I will inevitably like or love that rival Britain's Stephen Frears. Going back to My Beautiful Laundrette and continuing through such marvels as The Grifters, High Fidelity, The Snapper, Dirty Pretty Things and The Queen, Frears is so consistent and reliable that he was bound to disappoint me to a degree sooner or later. His latest work, Cheri, based on the scandalous books by Colette and adapted by Christopher Hampton (who adapted Atonement and Dangerous Liaisons, which Frears also directed), is something of a misstep if only because the titular male leading character (or at least the actor who portrays him, Rupert Friend) is such an obnoxious, annoying fop that I had an impossible time believing that anyone as refined and lovely as the aging courtesan Lea (Michelle Pfeiffer) would ever fall for this colossal douche.

Set during the Belle Epoque era in Paris, Cheri is set in a world where courtesans were able to make enough money in their prime from rich clients that they could retire at a respectable age and live the rest of their lives comfortably. Lea is at such an age and time in her life when an old friend and fellow woman of ill repute, Charlotte Peloux (Kathy Bates), recruits her to teach her lazy, sometimes cruel son, nicknamed Cheri (Friend), a thing or two about women. Quite unintentionally, Lea and Cheri fall in love and spend several years essentially living together in unwedded bliss. Suddenly Bates' swoops in once again to alert Lea that the relationship must end so that her son may marry a nice girl from a disgustingly rich family. But neither Cheri nor Lea are quite ready to give the relationship up, which leads to countless complications.

As much as I loathed Friend's performance, I was impressed with what Pfeiffer achieves. She manages to be radiant, without being afraid to show us the cracks (both physical and emotional) on her face. She knows that she's getting to the age where Cheri might stop loving her because she's simply too old and society would shun him for remaining with her. While it was hardly unusual at the time for older courtesans to take up with much younger men, Cheri's station in life would be compromised by looking like a fool. Watching her emotional journey in this film is the only reason to pay money to see it. Pfeiffer is still a viable, vivacious, talented actress, and it is my most sincere wish that she find some quality roles to sink her teeth into. This is certainly a step in the right direction, especially since her last couple of efforts went right to video or she's be demoted to supporting roles in such films as Stardust, Hairspray and White Oleander. Those aren't terrible movies, but she deserves so much better. I realize it's a broken record heard often that actresses over 40 have a tough time getting work, and while I don't know if any actress can have the kind of career that, say, Meryl Streep does, I'd hate to see Pfeiffer vanish from the scene. I for one still very much enough looking at her, and her highly sexual and sensual performance in Cheri is exactly the kind of proof I've needed to make my point. She's pretty damn flawless here, and the quality of her work makes it easier to ignore the idiot playing her leading man. The film opens Friday at the Landmark Century Center Cinema.

Jerichow

This film from Germany features one of those great stories that starts out like a solid slice-of-life tale and turns into a complex and layered works that gets so deep under your skin that it makes you edgy and weirdly uncomfortable at how intimate things get. That's a good thing, by the way. Jerichow, named after the small, impoverished town where it takes place, follows a former solider named Thomas (Speed Racer's Benno Furmann) whose mother has just died. Rather than sell her place, he wants to hold onto it and renovate it himself. But after using what little money his mother left him to pay off his debts, he's left with nothing. After fruitlessly searching for a job through an employment agency, Thomas meets a Turkish man named Ali (Hilmi Sozer), who owns a chain of small snack bars throughout the region. Ali has lost his driver's license, so he hires Thomas to drive him on his daily rounds, visiting each store location to replenish supplies, collect money and receipts, and see who's ripping him off. With Thomas' soldiering skills, Ali has unknowingly hired himself a grateful bodyguard as well, and the two settle into a nice routine and become friends.

Ali's attractive wife Laura (Nina Hoss) is fairly cold toward Thomas at first, but soon he begins to realize that she is a deeply unhappy woman who Ali is suspicious of and cruel toward. During the course of the film, the dynamic among the three changes gradually, almost so slowly you don't notice this, and then without warning, Laura and Thomas are kissing on the beach after Ali has wandered away drunk. This small but significant event sets off a chain reaction of emotions and goings on that generate a genuine sense of suspense and anxiety. When Thomas drops Ali off on what is supposed to be a quick trip to Turkey, we see Ali head into the airport but the double back and catch a cab. Where is he going? Thomas and Laura seize the opportunity to hump like rabbits, and Laura details her life story and how she ended up with Ali and why she can never leave him. Yes, folks, this tricky little film becomes a modern film noir by the end, and I loved it for that.

As careful and the new couple are in their schemes, naturally there is one flaw that gives them away. But nothing quite prepared me for how this sharp and smart film concludes. It's sudden and completely unexpected. Writer-director Christian Petzold (Yella) manages to keep a lid on his plot's twists and turns with much more style and grace than most directors would have. He seems to relish in letting developments slowly trickle to the audience rather than pack the film with one explosive surprise after another. We're never quite sure who we can trust in this film, outside of Thomas, whom we're pretty sure is being taken on a ride by somebody, or perhaps two somebodies. Make an effort to track down and see Jerichow. It's a great burst of strong storytelling from a filmmaker who is coming into his own as a visionary. That's always a good and exciting thing. The movie opens Friday at the Music Box Theatre.

Break-Up, Date

This fun, insightful and endlessly amusing documentary on the world of modern dating manages to gather a fairly eclectic group of Chicago-area singles (most in their 20s and 30s) who share their stories of dating, rejection, and the endless and often painful search for someone to spend all or a significant chunk of your life with. While clearly the age of online dating is upon us, the film isn't entirely about coupling in the electronic age, despite the fact that one published expert on the subject does liken the pick-and-choose nature of dating in the 21st century to buying a pair of shoes. While managing to stay fairly neutral on the subject himself, director Collin Souter does present a group of players who range a great deal in their approach to finding the perfect man or woman. Some are experts at playing the game and following "the rules," while others seem to prefer (or at least they say they do) casual hanging out with someone for months or years on end until a more serious and committed contender makes an appearance.

Break-Up, Date covers familiar ground like speed dating, blind dates, casual sex, and web sites that match you with your "perfect" mate, but Souter also uncovers some less traditional paths such as Dating for Nerds, which actually looks like a great way to meet people whether you want to date them or not, and the hug-fest Cuddle Party, which looks something strikingly similar to my worst nightmare in a pair of flannel pajamas. The film never gets too serious, nor does it explore just how immensely lonely people get when they can't quite seem to conform to society's expectations of pairing up with someone. But this isn't that movie. The film features students, creative types, mothers and sons, strong independent women, professionals, and even WGN Radio's Nick Digilio, who provides what might be my favorite date story involving taking a woman to see David Cronenberg's Dead Ringers as what he refers to (regrettably) as "some asshole test" on his part. Film geeks will understand perfectly; my go to test film for years was Dawn of the Dead.

The film has enough people of depth to make you really learn something from their experience whether you are single or otherwise occupied, but more than anything, Break-Up, Date makes you want to know what has happened to these folks since the cameras stopped rolling. Hell, there's at least one woman in this film that I would have pursued without a second thought were I single today. It's easy enough to get people to talk about themselves — and sure enough, listening to people chronicle their own dating histories made me think about my own way more than I had in years — but it's quite another thing to pull together an interesting film that isn't afraid to laugh at its subjects while still respecting their pain. For reasons I can't quite explain, this film cheered me up and gave me a small amount of hope for our future. Break-Up, Date opens Friday for a weeklong run at the Gene Siskel Film Center. Director Collin Souter will be present for audience discussion at the 8:15pm show on Saturday.

A Wink and a Smile

This new documentary about the modern burlesque phenomenon isn't attempting to be an all-inclusive history lesson about the practice as much as it is a look at how a group of women in Seattle are using the practice to bring out the confidence, sensuality and creativity in their own personalities. For many of these women, these elements have remained long buried in themselves, and it took a six-week course at the Academy of Burlesque taught by one Miss Indigo Blue (assisted by Shanghai Pearl) to coax the wilder side out.

During the course of the film, we watch the ladies piece together choreography, costumes and make-up choices into a routine and a character that will debut on stage in front of an audience. The prospect of being semi-nude in front of strangers and loved ones is terrifying for each woman, but there's an anticipation in each one that the class and the final event will be the final step toward something their lives have been lacking for far too long. Director Deirdre Timmons goes back and forth between the rehearsals of the amateurs and watching routines from some of Seattle's best-known burlesque performers. And Miss Indigo Blue is a great instructor to both her students and to us about the various types of burlesque performers. It's a fascinating world that is brought into the light, and Timmons and her subjects do an admirable job distinguishing this art form from simply stripping.

I found myself far more interested in watching the women in the class slowly pull together their routines, and their lives in the process. In essence this is a 10-person character study, and each woman has a story to tell. I was particularly curious about the pupils who led fairly mundane lives, and were just looking for a lightning bolt of excitement in their world before they got much older or lost their nerve. The film offers up a few unexpected twists — first and foremost when one student drops out for a pretty disappointing reason — but even without those developments, the film is an excellent profile of world that exits just off the radar.

A Wink and a Smile opens for a weeklong run at the Gene Siskel Film Center. Following the Friday screening, director Deirdre Timmons and Chicago's own burlesque queen Michelle L'amour will preside over the first public performance of Studio L'amour's latest graduating class. Performers making their debut on the Gene Siskel Film Center stage include: Kami Oh!, Ivy Fabulous, Vicky Sin, Elisa Purls, ZsaZsa Galore, Lana Bijou and Lime Rickey. A very special performance by L'amour herself rounds out the program. I honestly don't know how you can afford to miss this.