Ashley Cahill on the set for his debut film, "Charm."

Sporting a red-checkered jacket and sunglasses with a copy of “The New York Times” tucked under his arm, independent filmmaker Ashley Cahill strolled onto Larchmont Boulevard on a sunny Wednesday afternoon to discuss his debut film “Charm,” as well as his influences and favorite films.

“There are people who like movies, and there are people who like their movies,” said the 34 year-old Englishman.  “I like movies,” which speaks to Cahill’s great enthusiasm and knowledge about film.

“The Hunger Games” took in 155 million dollars last weekend, making it the third largest grossing film on an opening weekend of all time.  The odds were certainly in their favor.

Given the massive fanbase and hype surrounding the film, there was very little doubt that “The Hunger Games” was going to be a massive hit.  But amidst a box office dry spell and a prior 200 million dollar, big-budgeted bust, anything that breaks the 100 million mark in March is worth taking notice.

This marked the first of a 3 day series celebrating McDowell’s career by American Cinematheque, a non-profit organization that presents a variety of films – many of which are little known or forgotten – to the public.  The rest of the series will be held at the Aero Theater in Santa Monica, with “If…” and “Evilenko” playing on Saturday, and “O Lucky Man!” on Sunday.  McDowell will be at the Aero Sunday to present the film personally.

Continue reading on Examiner.com American Cinematheque raises its glass to Malcolm McDowell – Anaheim Film | Examiner.com http://www.examiner.com/film-in-anaheim/american-cinematheque-raises-its-glass-to-malcolm-mcdowell#ixzz1pQF6tmM5

Trailers for “Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter” and “Iron Sky” recently hit the Internet.  Those who have heard of these films are understandably excited, and those who are unaware of either will be marking their calendars shortly thereafter.

Well.... at least it's not "Daredevil."

I walked out of Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance not really knowing what I had just seen.  It is a terrible movie, but it is unabashedly ambitious in a way that somehow manages to wrestle from the audience something that resembles respect.  Not actual respect, mind you, and not enough of it to warrant any real praise, but there is something so odd about a film this bad, but made with this much passion.

Continue reading on Examiner.com Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance – Anaheim Film | Examiner.com http://www.examiner.com/film-in-anaheim/ghost-rider-spirit-of-vengeance-review#ixzz1mzsjyX2t

A bit unfocused, but very funny and well acted. 3 out of 4.

The trailers for The Trip make the film out to be a madcap comedy.  Truth is, The Trip contains a number of genres, from comedy to foodie to road movie to character drama, and for the most part, they all work.

The Trip follows actors Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon (playing exaggerated versions of themselves) as they travel around the Northern English countryside and visit the best restaurants in the area.  The whole trip itself is backwards and ridiculous from the get go: Rob is a last minute replacement for Steve’s food savvy, possibly ex-girlfriend (Margo Stilley), neither Rob or Steve is into fine dining, and Steve is trying to salvage his career in England and America in a part of the country virtually devoid of cellular phone reception.  Furthermore, the two men have nothing in common: Coogan is a glum, self-loathing man perpetually unhappy with his professional and personal life, and Brydon is a cheery, light-hearted family man absolutely content with his place in the world.

Naturally, misery and incongruity tends to breed comedy, and The Trip is at its best when it focuses on the two men on their reluctant journey.  The conversations between them revolve around pop culture observations and one-upmanship involving impressions; in one scene, both men recite the same set of lines in the style of a Bond villain just to see who does it best.  Other times, the two compete over who can do the better Michael Caine (the biggest showdown in the film) or the best Woody Allen.

Much of the dialogue between Coogan and Brydon was improvised, and as it should have been.  Their antics involve the same conversations friends have with one another that are innocuous to the outsider, but impossibly important to those from within.  It would be very difficult to recreate such natural, yet absurd relations from reading lines off of a page; one would have do it in the moment, and follow them through to their most ridiculous conclusion.       

It is important to point out that The Trip is Coogan and Brydon’s second film of this sort; in 2006, the two men starred in A Cock and Bull Story, in which the actors also portrayed themselves trying to make a film adaptation of the British novel, Tristram Shandy, making The Trip something of a tangential sequel.  So much of the two lead’s shtick relies on working together without appearing to work together, and the level of insight and chemistry both men have on their act and on each other works beautifully.

The drama in The Trip comes as something as a surprise, and sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t.  Sometimes the drama seems superfluous and misplaced, rendering the film a bit longer than it should, and the scenes feel misplaced in the grand scheme of things.  In the U.K., The Trip was a six-episode, 180-minute television series that was edited down to an hour and forty minutes for its feature release.  No doubt that some of the scenes, namely the ones involving Steve and his soon-to-be ex, had more to offer in its televised format, but in this film version, it doesn’t quite work.

However, there are some scenes that do work, and this is to Coogan’s credit.  Steve is a man stuck in a professional and personal rut who struggles with unfulfillment, a broken family, a breaking relationship, and is, in general, lost.  The scenes where he and Rob tour the homes of a few famous poets carry a certain weight, as the discussions of the poets’ troubled lives often seem to mimic Steve’s own life.  There is also a phone conversation between Steve and his son, and it is one of the few phone call scenes that work; it offers a rare glimpse at Steve’s humanity that is underplayed, but wonderfully sincere and poignant.

While he does play the man of a thousand silly voices, Brydon injects a strength of character into what could have been a mere sidekick’s role.  As a man content with who he is professionally, and more concerned with who he is personally, Rob is more than just a comic foil for Steve, he is a figure of reason for the film.  What’s more, Brydon plays it with absolute subtlety, and never undermines the comedy of the situation at hand.

Like any road movie, The Trip is many things, most of which come off quite nicely, and for all its unexpected seriousness, you will laugh.  Hard.

Weird, original and enticing, but very misguided. 2/4

Rubber is about a sentient tire named Robert that rolls around the highways of the American Southwest, becomes infatuated with a young woman, and blows peoples’ heads off via telekinesis.  Naturally, when word of this film hit the Internet early last year, people were understandably perplexed and excited; it was the right side of bizarre.

So it would surprise people that the saga of Robert the Telekinetic Tire serves as its own B-story.  Rubber revolves around an exercise in the absurd; a kind of deconstruction between audience and filmmaking.  Sometimes it’s funny, but more often than not it’s unnecessary and gets in the way of what could have been a very fun film.

As a result, Rubber is part quirky horror comedy, and part absurdist art film.  If one were to edit together the homicidal psychic tire parts, it would make for a great short film, the one people paid the price of admission to see in the first place.  Unfortunately, writer/director Quentin Dupieux seems more concerned with making an undergraduate philosophical-artistic statement than tell a story that he forsakes the best bits for its worst.

The film opens with the town sheriff (Stephen Spinella) addressing an audience- both a group of binocular-armed bystanders and us- about the reason behind any aspect of a film:  Why is E.T’s skin brown?  Why do the two main characters in Love Story fall in love?  The answer: no reason, which is the driving force behind everything in Rubber.

As far as the scenes involving Robert, “no reason” works.  The lack of origin or explication works in Rubber’s favor; we don’t need a reason for why a tire suddenly comes to life, nor do we need to know what his motives are in the first place.  After all, pitting a laughable villain that defies all notions of reason and reality against the atypical constraints and conventions of your average horror film would make for proper deconstruction, and would satisfy the curiosity of those intrigued by the films trailer.

Unfortunately, the “no reason” philosophy behind Rubber is its own downfall.  Rather than build a story out of his own idea of a homicidal tire, Dupieux renders Rubber a pseudo-postmodern deconstructionist statement that has little to do with its rubber protagonist.  I suppose Dupieux did this for “no reason,” but “no reason” is not the same as “no point,” and if the latter is the backbone of a movie, then there is no reason for it to even exist.                                  

Most of Rubber involves some kind of meta-commentary on filmmaking and film watching.  There are people watching Robert from a distance, providing stray observations and snarky commentary, and the sheriff goes about his job as though he were on set, acting and reacting as though none of what is going on is real, and that it is all a show.  Near the beginning of the film, it is appropriately odd and it works, but as the ruse continues, it takes up most of the film’s space, and it quickly wears out its welcome.

I haven’t the faintest idea what Dupieux is trying to say or do with Rubber.  He is not all too concerned with telling a story- at least, not the story of Robert, the reason people attended the film in the first place.  Instead, Dupieux seems to be experimenting, but in doing so, he has totally missed the point of filmmaking, storytelling, and deconstructionism.  The problem with most self-proclaimed post-modernists is that they misunderstand that deconstructionism is about: deconstructing something in attempt to discover a new way to understand whatever it is you’re looking at.  Dupieux, however, is just deconstructing for the sake of leaving something in pieces and calling it art.  Despite what some modern artists may think think, leaving something in shambles isn’t art, it’s just a pile.

Manohla Dargis of the New York Times wrote, “By embracing irrationality as his operating principle (or at least by pretending to), Mr. Dupieux lets himself off the narrative hook.”  I disagree.  Relying on superficial post-modernism does not- nor should it- get you out of providing a narrative; it’s just lazy writing.  What’s unfortunate about Rubber is that it had a lot of potential to be a legitimately clever, post-modern genre film, and when Rubber focuses on its initial premise, it is well worth watching.

Note: When he is not making films, Quentin Dupieux is a French DJ who goes by the name “Mr. Oizo.”  I’m not sure what most would make of this, but it seems relevant nonetheless.

Utterly Charming. A True Delight. 4/4.

Since his cinematic move to Europe, Woody Allen has continued experimenting with a variety of styles and genres, ranging from mysteries to romance to morality tales, most of which were of a much darker tone than what one would expect from the famed filmmaker.  In Midnight in Paris, Allen breaks away from this trend and delivers one of his most charming, optimistic films of his career.

Midnight in Paris finds successful screenwriter and struggling novelist Gil (Owen Wilson) on holiday in Paris with his high maintenance fiancé Inez (Rachel McAdams), her stuffy parents (Kurt Fuller and Mimi Kennedy) and intellectual friends Paul and Carol (Michael Sheen and Nina Arianda).  Although Inez and her circle are virtually uninterested in anything-save for Paul’s pompous lectures on everything from wine to fine art- Gil is enamored with the Parisian lifestyle and yearns to relocate there to work on his novel.

One night while drunkenly walking around Paris, Gil hops into an old fashioned taxi that somehow takes him to the Roaring Twenties where he comes across F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, and countless other prominent artistic figures of that era.  Gil periodically visits this Golden Age to escape his own vapid time period to socialize with the artistic elite, get advice on his novel, and gains some insight on his own life and time.

Owen Wilson does a great job in film, and manages channel Woody Allen’s persona while retaining his own.  There are physical ticks and neurotic inflections in Gil that are classic Allen, and it is obvious that he would have played the part himself had the film been made thirty years ago.  At first glance, Wilson seems like an unlikely pick for this kind of character due to his laid-back attitude in his past films, but the actor has always had a nervous energy inside of him that really makes  him perfect for the film.  Along with this blithe neurosis, Wilson is just so likeable, and he gives the film most of its charm.

Of course, it is Gil’s (and Allen’s) ideal perception of the Roaring Twenties that is truly magical.  Allen paints this dimension like a Modernist Brigadoon, where everyone is charming and intelligent, where the Cole Porter songs and gin never stops, yet Allen keeps it from being too soapy and retains the era’s intelligence and class.

Gil’s paradise would be nothing for him- or us- if it were not for those who inhabited it; every character is exactly who you would want them to be.  Kathy Bates is wonderful as the direct, sensible Gertrude Stein that acts as a voice of reason, and Tom Hiddleston plays F. Scott Fitzgerald as smooth, yet sincere and very cool.  But it is Corey Stoll who plays Ernest “Poppa” Hemingway that steals the show as the godfather of all that is masculine.  Stoll nails Hemingway’s cadence and rhythm, and when he speaks of charging elephants and bullfighting and courage and grace under pressure, it feels as though the real Hemingway is speaking directly to you.

In the beginning voice over of Manhattan, Allen mentions a “decay of contemporary culture,” and in Midnight in Paris, Allen seems to have created his own little escape from that decay; the idealized, rose-tinted recreation of the past is enticing, not just to Gil, but the audience as well.  Living in an era where Stephanie Meyer is a bestselling author, Lady Gaga is heralded as a musical genius, and people seek intelligence solely to be pedantic and portentous, it is an delight to see truly artistic, insightful individuals who seek enlightenment and truth while engaging in charming, friendly conversations while simply enjoying life.

Many will criticize Allen for getting a little too carried away with his depictions of life and fantasy. In his real life, Gil surrounds himself with self-absorbed, awful people, and it sometimes becomes inconceivable that Gil would surround himself with them.  What is more unbelievable is that this crowd would ever invite him into their circle in the first place.

As for the film’s golden era, the Twenties were by no means a picnic; fraught with anxiety, hopelessness and a total loss of identity, the decade was called “The Lost Generation” for a reason.  However, that is precisely the point; we tend to forget the previous generations’ troubles and yearn for the pasts’ definitive wonders to escape our own uncertain present and future.

Hardcore Woody Allen fans may scoff at the director’s newfound sense of optimism, but after years of neurosis, stress, unhappy endings, and a never-ending fear of cultural entropy, maybe a stroll through the best of Paris is what he, and the rest of us, needs.   

With the succession of Marvel films throughout the last three years, The Avengers has become the most anticipated film of the film season, more so even than The Dark Knight Rises.  With the film’s principle photography having begun in late April, the upcoming comic book epic is no longer an upcoming project discussed on the internet and Comic-Con, but can now be seen upon the horizon.

It almost goes without saying that Avengers will be a massive project; not only does the film feature a bevy of Marvel’s most beloved superheroes, but it has also created an overlapping franchise, starting with 2008’s Iron Man, and ending- pre-Avengers release- with Captain America: The First Avenger this summer, all with even more guaranteed sequels thereafter.

However, “with great power comes great responsibility” the old adage goes, and a project this massive needs to be handled with an equal amount of responsibility and care, which is why one cannot help but be at least a little skeptical on whether or not The Avengers will live up to the hype and do filmgoers justice.

The Avengers is going to feature an ensemble cast, consisting of Samuel L. Jackson, Robert Downey Jr., Chris Hemsworth, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner, Tom Hiddleston and Cobie Smulders, to name a few.  All of these characters-barring- Smulders and, technically, Ruffalo- are coming from other solo Marvel hero films, whether they were the lead, a supporting character, of featured in a cameo role.  Quite an ambitious move on Marvel’s part: orchestrating each film so that it stands alone, yet simultaneously works in tandem with the others to create an epic for the ages.

However, with a film as ambitious, multi-layered and eagerly awaited as The Avengers, the outcome can only go one of two ways: it will either be a massive achievement-and not just financially-, or it will be a massive failure, and if the film turns out to be “ok” or “not bad,” it will still fail.  The hype is simply too big to allow for mediocrity.  That being the case, one must give a great deal of thought towards the possible pitfalls that those behind the camera and curtain face in taking on such a task as assembling the Avengers on the big screen.

The greatest threat to The Avengers is a common one amongst films with an ensemble cast: a clustercuss of face time and character-based sub plots.  Ensemble films like The Great Escape and Inception require a restraint- something uncommon, if not looked down upon, in blockbusters- in the use of its actors.  The cast of The Avengers will have to function as a unit of supporting characters rather than a battle royale for the spotlight, which could happen.  Most of these Avengers are coming from their own films as the central heroes, and some of the actors may not appreciate being relegated to the second tier of the film’s players, but if they want to look their best and make a great movie, they’re going to have to work as a team, and not compete over who gets to be the biggest star.

Of course, as far as character dynamics go, there will most likely be antagonism between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers over who will lead the Avengers, and if there are going to be two stars of the show, it is going to be Downey Jr. and Evans.  Given the status of Rogers and Stark within the Marvel universe, it is acceptable that they will be at the center of attention, yet this presents another problem entirely: if these two characters are to rival one another, shouldn’t they be equals?  Yes, they should, but how could anyone think that Chris Evans has a chance against Robert Downey Jr.?  Although Evans’ portrayal of Cap has yet to be seen, Downey Jr. is the better actor between the two and exudes a far stronger presence that makes for a more compelling leader.

Honestly, would you not follow this guy?

No one knows how the relationship between Captain America and Iron Man will play out.  Will there be a playful, professional rivalry, or will Stark be fine with being the Avengers’ second-in-command?  After all, when it comes to most crime fighting groups, it is the lieutenant who is always the most engaging one of the group.  Take Han Solo in Star Wars, Raphael in TMNT, or Sir Lancelot in the tales of King Arthur for example; each of these characters are favored by fans more than their respective superiors.  Even in DC’s Justice League of America, most people favor Batman over the group’s de facto leader, Superman.

Unlike Superman though, Captain America is the actual official leader of the Avengers, as far as this incarnation goes anyway (I can hear comic book geeks citing the post-Civil War line up in the comment section already), and any leader of any group needs to possess the bravado, the confidence, that ever-engaging presence that make those around him-or her, easy ladies- follow in suit.  So here is the dilemma: who in their right mind would choose Evans/Cap over Downey Jr./Stark as their leader?  Not very many, so Evans really has to step it up as Captain America if he wants to earn his stripes and mantle.

Of course, again, this is all speculative anyway; we have no idea how Joss Whedon has handled any of this through the script, or how he plans to direct it.  However, Whedon himself is an interesting choice as a writer and director.  Regular readers will already know that I have my reservations about Whedon (for a refresher, click here), which is not to say I am particularly against him either; I’m just not drinking the Kool-Aid.

Whedon is a smart writer, and is one of the leading cult figures in the entertainment industry.  Many of his programs, from Buffy to Firefly, to the web mini-series Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog have become touchstones for this generation’s pop culture consciousness.  Furthermore, Whedon has written a number of comic runs in the Marvel and DC Universe that has been praised by critics and common comic fans alike.

Sharp writing, wit, a handle on character development and a comic aficionado?  Sounds like Joss Whedon is the perfect man to helm The Avengers, and in many ways he is.  However, Whedon’s forays into the motion picture industry has been mixed; several of the films he has written, repaired and co-written turned out to be pretty bad, and were subsequently disowned by the writer himself, who has blamed any and everyone else for ruining his written vision.  It would be ignorant to say that Whedon is just making excuses for his less-than-stellar work; anyone who knows anything about the film industry knows that making a film is a collaboration between a variety of forces (many of which have conflicting motives), but to give Whedon a pass for every one of his failures is just hero worship.

Lest we forget....

Much of this, quite possibly, is due to the fact that Whedon’s work is too singular, too… Whedony, which only means that he should stick to his own projects that he alone can control; after all, Serenity, the cinematic continuation of the ill-fated, yet brilliant “Firefly,” was a fantastic film.  The characters in The Avengers do not come from the mind of Whedon, which means if Whedon is going to do this right, he is going to have to serve the characters -and sometimes the actors’ version of them- and not retrofit them into his own creations.  Basically, he needs to keep the film rooted in the Marvel universe, not the Whedonverse.

The biggest threat to the quality and integrity of The Avengers is the same entity that can jeopardize any film, especially something this big: the studio, which, in this case, is Marvel Studios.  The recent influx of Marvel films-save for The Fantastic Four films- have been designed for the purpose of making The Avengers.  Iron Man was the test, and with its great success lead to the go-ahead for the rest of the pieces to the cinematic puzzle.  The inherent problem with franchises, however, is that companies, or in this case, the studio, are more concerned with the overall franchise, and not the individual pieces that act as its structure, which is counterintuitive to the story and its success.

In this we have something of a paradox: if Marvel is solely concerned with The Avengers, rendering the solo-Marvel here films as a means to an end, those films will be of a lesser quality.  If these films are not any good, their joint efforts concerning The Avengers will not carry the necessary impact to make The Avengers enticing, anticipated or good.  Essentially, if Marvel wants The Avengers to be the big success they want it to be, they should really focus on its respective solo features.

Which doesn’t sound like a big deal; after all, the more great superhero blockbusters you make, the more money you make, so there is the financial motivation.  But in creating the buzz for The Avengers- and promoting continuity within the storylines- Marvel is cramming a lot of Avengers references into their solo films, which could, in turn, suggest that these solo films are more advertisements for the big Marvel moneymaker, and less quality films.

Marvel has been hit and miss on this, and its best seen in their last two movies: Iron Man 2 and Thor.  The presence of S.H.I.E.L.D. fit in perfectly in Thor, as did Jeremy Renner’s cameo as Clint Barton (Hawkeye), and the Avengers’ post-credit tie-in was exactly what it should have been: relatively self-contained and apart from the film at hand, while offering us a tantalizing taste of what is to come.

Iron Man 2, on the other hand, shot itself in the foot by being too preoccupied with The Avengers.  For one, the palladium-poisoning subplot was hijacked by Nick Fury, making one wonder if Stark’s illness was just an excuse to shoehorn S.H.I.E.L.D into the film.  Secondly, there was a tug-of-war within the narrative between the key villains and pre-Avengers material.  As a result, the much-awaited sequel of Marvel’s crown jewel became a 2-plus hour reminder that The Avengers was on its way, with some Downey Jr., Rourke and Rockwell thrown in for good measure.

The film even led to the exit of director Jon Favreau, who said, “In theory, Iron Man 3 is going to be a sequel or continuation of Thor, Hulk, Captain America and [the] Avengers.  This whole world…I have no idea what it is.  I don’t think they do either from conversations I’ve had with those guys.”  Did Favreau see the writing on the wall?  If Iron Man 2 is of any indication, probably.  Each of these films must stand on their own two feet, and their respective sequels must be sequels in the strictest sense: a continuation of a single story; any overlap between storylines and characters should be minimal and unobtrusive.  If for some reason Captain America must make an appearance in the next Iron Man movie, make sure it is just for a scene, and not a substantial chunk of the film.

Criticisms and cynicism aside, Marvel is enjoying a much-deserved success with its new canon of superhero films.  The floodgates of new films on new, lesser known heroes has burst open, which also allows a number of different filmmakers to give this genre a (possible) new look.  So far Marvel’s choices for directors has been unconventional, and that is a breath of fresh-and welcomed- air for the blockbusters; Jon Favreau, Louis Leterrier and Kenneth Branagh are hardly people you would expect to be involved in projects like this, and now with the equally unconventional Shane Black helming Iron Man 3, we can hopefully continue to experience more genre gentrification within Marvel Studios.

Captain America: The First Avenger is due out in July, and the film will spark what it will amongst the fans, but all eyes are on The Avengers.  Nothing that massive has ever been done before within the genre or sub-culture, and it will stand as a testament for Marvel’s power as a studio, and will serve as a major watershed moment for this generation’s cinematic landscape.  So in regards to those behind The Avengers, let us hope they are up to the challenge: the eyes of geeks, cinephiles and movie house laymen are on them.

Don't mess this up guys.

Smart, engaging, funny, thoughtful, and doesn't collapse under its own weight. 4 out of 4.

There is a scene early on in Jesus of Montreal in which one of the characters performs a voiceover to a video depicting the Big Bang, and the inevitable end of the universe.  The presentation is both scientific and philosophical, and all in all, quite moving.  After he is done, the voice over artist turns to the sound technician and says, “Leaves a lot unanswered,” a question that not only addresses the cosmology at hand, but the nature of the human experience betwixt the beginning and the end.  In many ways, the scene sums up the film: curious, introspective, and reverent towards scientific explanations and religious experiences.

Religion has always been a controversial topic, and most films that challenge religion always stir up condemnation from the most faithful of the flock.  Ironically, the most protested films (Last Temptation of Christ, Dogma, Life of Brian) do not ridicule or demean faith, but dogma, interpretation and religious establishment.  Like those who came before and after him, writer and director Denys Arcand challenges the authority of the powers-that-be, but eschews smug cynicism for a receptiveness to faith in something more abstract than convention or doctrine would allow.

In an attempt to boost church attendance, Father Leclerc (Giles Pelletier) contacts respected underground actor Daniel (Lothaire Bluteau) to direct and star as Jesus in a modernized passion play at a Montreal basilica.  Daniel recruits four old actor friends to perform the play with him, and bases the play around historical accounts, theology and philosophy rather than staging a literal, and rather dry, reenactment straight from the Bible.

We get to see Daniel’s take on the Passion in its entirety about forty minutes into the film.  At one point in the play, it is stated that, “[Jesus’] miracles became more popular than his sermons,” which lies at the heart of the play, as well as the film.  The production denies the supernatural elements of Jesus’ life – including the virgin birth, Jesus’ miracles and the physical resurrection- and asserts that there is very little known about the actual life of Jesus; “disciples,” the actors say “embellish and lie.”  Instead, the play focuses on relaying the tenants of Jesus’ message: chief among them, “Seek your own salvation,” and “love one another.”

The play is a big hit with the public, who all seem genuinely moved by this new grasp on post-modern spirituality.  Church officials, on the other hand, are livid by what they deem as a blasphemous, atheistic rendering of the Passion, and having their authority questioned by a lowly troupe of actors does not help matters either.  Various members of the media take an interest in the performance as well, but are more motivated by the popularity the play generates and not what it has to say.

A modern, French-Canadian Jesus if I ever saw one

In a case of life imitating art, the film itself is something of a modern-day Passion play, with Daniel playing Christ on and off stage.  Daniel’s life also parallel’s Jesus’ life off stage: he butts heads with authority (the Church), resists temptations from nefarious forces (talent agents), and even drives out money collectors from a place of worship (in this case, advertising execs out of a theater).  Arcand skillfully retrofits the life of Jesus into a modern tale without being too obvious, and     Bluteau is perfect at exuding a calm, tranquil demeanor, and there is something very real and genuine in his actions and words, which is, perhaps, the most important element of the film; if Daniel is to be the real thing, he better make for a convincing Christ.

The film was, for obvious reasons, controversial in its day, and could still be considered so in this day of age.  Fundamentalist religious forces are still at work today, as are fundamentalist anti-theist movements, drawing battle lines, and clinging to warped concepts of deities (see: God and reason), leaving the rest of us to marvel (in confusion) in a polarized polemic between two groups who, frankly, resemble one another more than not.

As a student of history and a lapsed Catholic, Arcand has an intertwining view faith and reason, God and the universe, the natural and supernatural that is often glossed over by the media- crazy and rage make for the most entertaining stories- but has been around for centuries, if not even longer.  Arcand doubts the intentions of religious authority and remains skeptical over the supernatural, magic parts of the Bible, but there is an underlying respect, and even an acceptance, of some kind of humanistic spirituality.  There are no deux ex machinas or burning bushes in Jesus of Montreal, but the ideas, the sensations, the essence of what Daniel and his actors discover, and later go on to represent, are presented with a sense of wonder and transcendence, as if they have tapped into some kind of ground of being.

After the voiceover artist refers to the Big Bang presentation of being vague, the sound technician responds, “Yeah, on though it’s valid today, in five years it may change,” reflecting Arcand’s own gospel of hope, doubt, growth and faith.  Jesus of Montreal embodies these qualities, and does so by exploring religion in a very clever, unorthodox way that avoids being smug in its skepticism, or sanctimonious in its soul-searching.  On the one hand, it is a modern re-telling of Jesus, but in Montreal and in the Nineties, but on the other, it asks questions and makes revelations on religious thought that are profound and modern, all while providing a very smart, entertaining film that anyone can appreciate and respect.