Dog Day Entertainments
by Marty and Martha Roth

“Norwegian comedy” isn’t exactly an oxymoron, but the film “Elling,” the only example of the genre we’ve seen recently, struck us as a TV-sitcom inflated to two hours. The title character (Per Christian Ellefsen) suffers from extreme social withdrawal, and when his mother-—who has always shielded him from contact with the world-—leaves it, he finds himself in a mental hospital. This being Norway, the institution is a bright, cheery place full of kind and gentle people who want to help Elling live independently, so they find him an apartment, which he shares with Kjell Barne (Sven Nordin), a giant former mental patient whose single aim in life is getting laid. A tired, impatient social worker named Frank (Jørgen Langhelle) looks after the guys, forcing them to leave the flat, bathe, and take tentative steps toward socialization. By film’s end both men have achieved a modest degree of autonomy and even happiness, but we didn’t care all that much because the psychological damage that the film records seemed to have infected the experience as well. We came away from the film thinking that the level of social services that Norwegians take for granted could make you weep. Of course, they don’t support a large and inefficient military establishment.
Speaking of a large military, we expected good things from John Woo’s most recent war film, but “Windtalkers,” a promising story of Navajo Marines whose language provided the U.S. military with a secure, unbreakable code in World War II’s Pacific campaigns, disappointed us. As Pvt. Ben Yahzee, the fresh-faced Adam Beach might have been an unorthodox action hero; but Woo paired him with Nicolas Cage’s battle-weary sergeant, and the result is just another movie in which the ghastliness of war provides an excuse for weepy male bonding and lots and lots of explosions. Not that we aren’t always happy to be reminded of what a poor technique of conflict resolution war is, but “Windtalkers,” like all war films now and evermore, we fear, comes wrapped in a dense layer of patriotic drivel. There’s, like, one woman in this film, Frances O’Connor as a wafer-thin, beautifully coiffed military nurse.
“Road to Perdition” also lacks women. Director Sam Mendes and cinematographer Conrad L. Hall have magical powers, and Martha wishes they’d used them on better material. The tired story of gangsters scheming and betraying each other, wiping out each others’ families, and fleeing into endless rainy nights may never have been more beautifully shot nor more soulfully portrayed, but come on (Martha exclaims)! You’ve seen it a million times. Marty was entranced by the film’s visual repertoire, and its almost total, symphonic use of the film frame. Echoes of Visconti danced in his head.
Mendes evokes terrific performances from his actors with the exception of Tom Hanks, whose performance screams “Nominate me!” Paul Newman does his best work in the trite role of an Irish Godfather; Stanley Tucci restrains himself admirably; and Jude Law turns in a skilful, creepy performance as a hired assassin. Oh, shucks, everyone in this film is a hired assassin, but Jude is interesting to watch. Not so young Tyler Hoechlin, as a gangster’s child: it must be delicate work finding a kid actor who won’t upstage Tom Hanks.
Hungry for a movie with women in it? In “Lovely & Amazing,” writer-director Nicole Holofcener focuses on a Los Angeles family of strong, loving, neurotic women at a moment when the mother, Jane (Brenda Blethyn), is having liposuction. Jane has two grown daughters, Michelle (Catherine Keener), an unhappily married, unsuccessful artist who has a silent little daughter of her own, and Elizabeth (Emily Mortimer), an actress who goes through life in an agony of social and professional insecurity. Jane expects to be back in charge within a day or two, but complications set in and Michelle and Elizabeth must take turns looking after their little sister Annie (Raven Goodwin), a smart, fat, unhappy African American kid whom Jane adopted from a crack-addicted mother. Head-in-oven territory, you might think, but Holofcener not only makes these unpromising people appealing, she writes an amusing and quite plausible screenplay out of their struggles.
One of Catherine Keener’s strengths as an actress is that you can see wheels turning and gears meshing behind her blasé manner, and her character is the one that appears to change most in the course of the film — which, at 89 minutes, is blessedly compact. Men may enjoy “L & A” somewhat less, because the male characters aren’t as rewarding as the females; still, James LeGros and Clark Gregg, as the sisters’ partners, Michael Nouri as Jane’s cosmetic surgeon with narcissistic L.A. hair, Jake Gyllenhaal as a teenager with a crush on Michelle, and especially Dermot Mulroney as an actor who has a fling with Elizabeth, are all great fun to watch.
John Sayles’s new film, “Sunshine State,” has all of his virtues and most of his defects: it’s a long, leisurely, episodic movie with some wonderful performances, many didactic conversations, and a few good jokes. The jokes and conversations here are about developing ocean-front real estate near Jacksonville, Florida. Predatory developers have their eyes on two communities, one black and one white, and in true Sayles fashion there are pro and con factions among the citizens of both. Edie Falco and Ralph Waite stand out as father-and-daughter owners of a seedy motel and restaurant, as do Mary Alice and Bill Cobb as old friends who also happen to be doctor and patient.
Many stories begin to take shape and some are abandoned; none really gets a full treatment. Sort of like life, when you think about it: “Whatever happened to those people, you remember...?” Florida’s lovely coastline, hideous small-town malls, and pleasant, exclusive gated communities all thicken the film’s texture. Watching it was almost as good as an actual trip down south, especially considering the weather that greeted us on leaving the theater.
Until Finnfest begins, U Film Society is showing an Israeli film called “Late Marriage,” set in the Georgian community of Haifa, that offers the weird anthropological thrill of watching people bow to their parents’ wishes against their own inclinations. The central character is a nice-looking layabout in his early thirties named Zaza (Lior Ashkenazi), a doctoral candidate in philosophy. His prosperous parents have given him an apartment, a car, a dog, good clothes, and spending money and in return they expect him to marry a nice girl (tr.:“young virgin”) and give them a grandson. Ungratefully he has fallen in love with a slightly older divorced woman (Ronit Elkabetz) who has a child already, and the film is a chronicle of family struggle. 
Many things about “Late Marriage” fascinated us, although writer-director Dover Koshashvili has a somewhat primitive cinematic sense. His camera stays in one position throughout most scenes, but some—notably a sequence when Zaza’s extended family come to his divorcée girlfriend’s apartment to confront the guilty lovers—are so painfully riveting we didn’t mind. Not being Hebrew speakers we felt at a disadvantage, because the subtitles seem to tell only part of the story. Nevertheless, we recommend this film as an experience of true strangeness.
At Red Eye an unruly troupe that calls itself Jerungdu Theater put on a silly, bawdy, mostly delightful show called “Dragon Fist Hidden Gerbil,” billed as “A Kung Fu Rock Musical.” We won’t tax you with the plot, which features a sissified hero named Cooty who gets his best martial-arts move from a giant gerbil and a dominatrix Dragon Lady who commands a corps of lesbian ninjas. The cheesiness of the piece is underlined by multiple references to “The Gouda (or Guddha),” “good/bad Parma” —as in Parmesan, we assume—and “attaining Velveeta,” but Galway McCullough provided good tight direction for the alternately hilarious and repulsive script. The performers, headed by Chris Kelly as Cooty and Mo Donahue as the Dragon Lady, sang and danced like pros and acted like—well, like kung-fu movie types. We especially admired the live band: Aaron Belamy, Michael Donahue, Jeff Moon, and Montana Scheff. Here’s a bit of the gerbil fight song: “Nibble, nibble shake, dig, claw squirm, run/ Everyone will fear the wrath of my feral gerbil death threat.” You gotta love it . . . or not.

And over in St. Paul, Park Square Theatre has mounted an inexplicable revival of a show called “June Moon,” by those icons of American literature, Ring Lardner and George S. Kaufman. It was their only known collaboration, and Lardner’s only work for the theater, and unfortunately we saw too easily why this is so. The story of a brash young provincial who takes the big city by storm but (nearly) loses his perspective and his homespun values was old when Flaubert and Stendhal did their riffs on it in the mid-nineteenth century, and Lardner/Kaufman don’t bring anything fresh to their treatment of the theme. 
Park Square’s performers are bright and sassy, especially Virginia Burke as Lucille, a songwriter’s unhappy wife; Kevin Dutcher as Maxie the piano player; and Mikki Daniels as a leggy blonde, and they do their best with a pretty sketchy script. Director Peter Moore tries to flesh it out with some historical poignancy. “June Moon” was written in 1929, on the lip of the Depression, and is full of references to money troubles, but the dialogue creaks and most of the jokes have passed their use-by date. 
The livelier second act includes a few songs for which Lardner wrote both music and lyrics that send up Tin Pan Alley (“Hello Tokyo ... this is no joke-yo . . for you I’d go through fire and smoke-yo, &c.”; “Why must a father’s carnal sins/ Be visited on babykins? Please give our child a name—a last name”) and wrung a few chuckles from us. Rich Hamson’s costumes are gorgeous and Richard Cook’s scene design is elegant and atmospheric. “June Moon” plays through Aug. 24.
Once again, we’re sorry to report that the Minnesota Fringe has timed itself badly for our deadline, but we do urge you to go and see anything that takes your fancy at this year’s much expanded festival. Check it out on the web at www.fringefestival.org .