Digital Week – February 19

How a quartet of British musicians—guitarist Jimmy Page, bassist John Paul Jones, drummer John Bonham and singer Robert Plant—got together to form one of the planet’s legendary rock bands is at the heart of Bernard MacMahon’s straightforward portrait. Introducing each member, born in 1940s war-torn England, and taking their story until the start of 1970—following the huge success of the group’s first two albums and tours—MacMahon lets the four speak for themselves: Page, Jones and Plant give new interviews, and Bonham (whose death in 1980 effectively disbanded the group) is heard in an unearthed 1970s interview. The result is two hours of musical bliss for Zepheads: not only are there fresh nuggets like the many mid-’60s hits Page and Jones both played on as session musicians or the besotted female fan calling Plant a “fox” in a call-in interview on an American radio station (“what’s that?” Plant ignorantly asks), there are also incendiary live performances of “Dazed and Confused,” “Communication Breakdown,” and other Zep classics, all looking and sounding brilliant in restored video and audio. A must-see in IMAX, with its killer sound, but even a smaller screen and less than optimal sound system aren’t a dealbreaker.

Charles Burnett’s 1999 romance starring James Earl Jones and Lynn Redgrave was never released after a bad review scared off the original distributor—although not THAT bad, it’s more than a bit of a mess. Burnett, who made “Killer of Sheep” and “To Sleep with Anger,” shows a less than sturdy directorial hand in this slapstick, rom-com, tragedy and heartache. Anthony C. Winkler’s scattershot script deserves its share of blame as well. Jones’ and Redgrave’s performances swing from wildly overdone to nicely subtle, sometimes in the same sequence, while Margot Kidder (whom I didn’t recognize at first) provides needed levity as the couple’s landlord.

Director-cowriter Antonio Méndez Esparza’s account of middle-aged Lucia’s horrifying spiral when she’s laid off and becomes a cabbie has been compared to “Taxi Driver” itself—but the outbursts of violence that climax Lucia’s story are miles from Travis Bickle’s cleaning the “scum” off NYC streets; rather, Lucia has been wronged, in her mind, by friends and lovers and exacts her own sort of vengeance. Malena Alterio plays Lucia forcefully but also with an understated ability to keep her sympathetic even if the bloody final act has been all but foreshadowed by Esparza and Clara Roquet’s script; baring herself emotionally and physically, Alterio makes Lucia and her plight worth watching however unnerving.

Jane Weinstock directed Nevin Schreiner’s script that’s a choppy look at a liberal Ohio family—father Rob, mother Kate (both professors) and their free-spirited 17-year-old daughter Bobbi—on their birthdays in the pivotal year of 1970. The movie brims with so many signposts of the “hippie” era—open marriages, female sexual awakening, racism, sexism—that when the Kent State shootings are brought in (Kate’s birthday is May 4, the day of the shootings), it tips the scales into lazy contrivance. It’s too bad, for some family confrontations are realistically fraught, while the acting of Josh Raynor (Rob), newcomer Nuala Cleary (Bobbi), and the always great Annie Parissie (Kate) is first-rate. I chuckled during the end credits at an aria from Camille Saint-Saëns’ opera “Samson and Delilah” mistakenly listed as being composed by Claude Debussy.

The sorrowful legacy of the atomic bomb, brought back into the spotlight after the success of Christopher Nolan’s supremely flawed Oscar winner Oppenheimer, is vividly if haphazardly recounted in Martina Car and Anthony Audi’s short but wandering documentary, which lets residents of New Mexico—site of the “Trinity” testing site—discuss the lingering physical, emotional and even political effects of the decades of stonewalling, sweeping under the rug and ignoring their plight by the government. Along with the often heartrending interviews, the directors also provide a broader political and human context, although even at a succinct 75 minutes, Trinity could use a bit more meat on its bones. 

Writer-director Alessandra Lacorazza’s auspicious feature debut is this intensely personal memory film about two sisters, Violeta and Eva, who visit their dad Vicente during several summers over a number of years. Although the drama is sometimes too on the nose as the girls discover how complex their relationship is with a father they only see a couple of weeks a year, only once does Lacorazza stoop to melodrama—a drunken car accident that injures Violeta—but even that sets the stage for a final, touching reunion. It’s enacted by a group of fine young actors playing the sisters at various ages and who rotate around the impressive Puerto Rican rapper René “Residente” Pérez Joglar as Vicente: best are Sasha Calle and Lio Mehiel as, respectively, the adult Eva and Violeta. The film looks splendid on Blu; extras include Lacorazza’s commentary, interviews with the director and cast, deleted scenes, bloopers and Lacorazza’s short film, “Mami.”

George Frideric Handel’s 1750 oratorio about fourth-century Christian martyrs Theodora and her husband Didymus contains some of the composer’s most glorious music—and has also been staged as an opera over the centuries, as this misguided Vienna production by director Stefan Herheim shows. Set in Vienna’s modern-day Café Central, which is inappropriate enough, the staging hits its nadir after the chorus sings movingly about Christ raising a man from the dead, and…a waitress brings out tea trays filled with desserts. The music, at least, lives up to Handel’s high standards: the Arnold Schoenberg Choir (under chorus master Erwin Ortner) and La Folia Barockorchester (under conductor Bejun Mehta) perform superbly, and Jacquelyn Wagner (Theodora) and Christopher Lowrey (Didymus) sing beautifully. There’s fine hi-def video and audio.