Live Action Short Film Nominees (Oscars 2020)

Yesterday I saw all five of the nominated films in the Live Action Short category. I'll present my reviews in the order the films were shown.

A SISTER (Belgium)

We join the film as a woman in peril makes a phone call from the car she's riding in with who appears to be her date. A date that has gone horribly wrong. Next, we see the person receiving the call who tries to make sense of the situation. It's a tense, simmer-beneath-the-surface thriller that we're not sure will turn out the way we hope. I was glued to the edge of my seat.

BROTHERHOOD (Tunisia, Canada, Qatar, Sweden)

A Tunisian family's harmony is disrupted when the eldest son, who has been gone for a long time, returns home to introduce his new pregnant Syrian bride. His father doesn't approve of what he suspects his son has been up to during his hiatus from their community and tensions rise. Perhaps I have dysfunctional oppressive family fatigue, but I didn't feel like there was anything new in this one. My least favorite of the bunch.

THE NEIGHBORS' WINDOW (USA)

A New York family of five is going through the motions of life—Dad works, Mom cares for the kids, they're comfortable financially. One night after the kids are in bed, the couple notices a couple in the building across the way making love with no inhibitions or worries that people may see them (though they have no blinds on their windows). At first they laugh, but then they become borderline obsessed with watching this couple, who appears to have an active sex and social life. Then, something changes and the perspective shifts. Basically, this is a good "grass is always greener" tale that was inspired by a true story. I had no idea I'd cry at the end—but I did.

SARIA (USA)

In March of 2017, 41 children lost their lives in a fire at a safe home in Guatemala. This film recounts the days leading up to the fire, including a riot led by female residents (who suffered sexual abuse and torture at the hands of their caretakers), who briefly escaped only to be captured, beaten and locked back up. In that lock up, a fire broke out and those responsible for guarding the girls didn't unlock the door to let them out, resulting in mass fatalities. This film was especially hard to watch because at the time of the real event, I worked for a Guatemalan company and spent time in the city near where it happened just a month later. The citizens were still raw with grief and searching for answers. Unfortunately, justice has not yet been achieved for the victims; perhaps this terrifying glimpse into what it was probably like will help that.

NEFTA FOOTBALL CLUB (France, Algeria, Tunisia

The final film in the presentation was the only one that provided solid comedy, but for that I was grateful. The story follows two Tunisian brothers who find a donkey wearing headphones. Yes, you read that right—the donkey is listening to tunes on a mountainside, so the boys make the most of the encounter, listening to the music and stealing the contents of the donkey's load to take home to their village. What they do with those contents left me smiling and caused the audience around me to spontaneously clap. The most charming of the five films, this just may be this year's winner.

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Wine Calling

Today I screened Wine Calling, a documentary about French wine producers who are committed to producing their wines with natural methods.

Even if you're not a wine snob, you can probably appreciate the elegance of a great glass of vino, made with care in one of the most beautiful regions in the world. If so, you may enjoy this casual journey to meet some of the passionate winemakers in the French Riviera, dedicated to leaving the unnatural "extras" out.

What I enjoyed: The people behind the wines who in many cases started from scratch and built up their brands with good, old-fashioned hard work. Hearing from the makers directly and realizing how down-to-earth they truly are resolves any perception of pretentiousness. They also make a great case for their reasoning behind natural wine production.

What I didn't enjoy: A lot of B-roll with dogs playing, kids frolicking, grassy hills, etc. set to music that didn't always match the vibe the narrative was creating. I'm not adverse to non-linear storytelling, but sometimes the jumping from one frame to another seemed unnecessary.

I did, however, want to drink an entire bottle of wine once the film concluded, so perhaps it was more effective than I'm giving it credit for delivering.

~~~

Wine Calling screened at the 45th Annual Seattle International Film Festival.

At Eternity's Gate

Tonight I saw At Eternity's Gate, starring Willem Dafoe and Rupert Friend.

The famed painter Vincent Van Gogh (Dafoe) was not accepted as the artistic genius he was during his time on earth. The connection he felt to nature and the closeness he felt to his work weren't fully appreciated while he was alive, but this film aims to validate those aspects of his career.

Filmed on location in Arles, France, where Van Gogh spent his final weeks, Director/Co-Screenwriter Julian Schnabel puts the viewer in a stream-of-consciousness time machine that offers a glimpse of how the artist absorbed and visually shared his surroundings. A friend described the movie as "hypnotic" and that to me was the perfect interpretation of the vibe.

Dafoe, moving easily between English and French throughout the narrative, was captivating as the troubled painter. Aside from physically resembling the real artist (which undoubtedly helps), his manner, the confusion behind his eyes, his passion—it all made us viewers sure we were stealing an intimate look at one of the most fascinating characters in all of art history.

Though the pace is slow and the story not entirely linear (except that it's chronological), it keeps your attention, as you want to know why Van Gogh felt the things he felt and acted the way he did.

There's tragedy in the suffering his mental illness causes; there's sadness in the lack of recognition he received while he was in his prime, but most off all there's light in the beautiful landscapes and people he brought to life through his timeless paintings.

That's what's illuminated so magically in this film.

~~~

Fifty Shades Freed

On Sunday I saw Fifty Shades Freed, starring Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan.

In this third (excruciating) installment of the most popular worst trilogy ever made, Anastasia (Johnson) is married to Christian (Dornan) and has to navigate their new life, which includes taking an extravagant honeymoon to France; preparing a new mansion/love nest; 'working' as a book editor and fending off the attacks of her disgruntled former boss (who harbors a secret that involves her husband).

Before you question why I even sat through this, let me provide you two reasons:

1) The films are set in Seattle, near where I live and work, so I enjoy seeing "home" on the screen.
2) My friend's birthday is this week and she planned a girls' night around the film to celebrate.

See—I had no choice. But no, this wasn't good.

Was it fun to hoot and holler at during the saucy scenes? Sure. Was it great to see beautiful scenes of France and Washington? Absolutely.

But dear God, that dialog couldn't be worse. Honestly, Ms. Johnson and Mr. Dornan should get some kind of award just for keeping a straight face during what are supposed to be "dramatic" scenes. They are amazing.

And for pure visual pleasure, I still think we should have had more of Christian than Anastasia, but that's not how it played out.

At least in a few moments Anastasia truly exerted her girl power and took control of her situations.

Small consolation for such a dud.

~~~

Paris Can Wait

Today I saw Paris Can Wait, starring Diane Lane and Arnaud Viard.

Anne (Lane) is the wife of a successful film producer, Michael (Alec Baldwin). They are headed to Paris via Budapest from the South of France when Anne's ears begin bothering her and the pilot of their private plane advises against her flying. Michael's business associate, Jacques (Viard), offers to drive her straight to Paris since he's headed there anyway. She accepts the offer.

At first, Jacques sightseeing stops along the way feel spontaneous, but Anne soon realizes he has no intention of getting to Paris that evening. At what can only be described as an 'intimate dinner' they share, the wine flows and things are revealed and Anne begins to see her travel companion in a different light.

From there they experience car trouble, money issues, a former girlfriend, cultural pit stops and a staggering amount of delicious French cuisine. Throughout the journey you wonder if the feelings they have for one another are mutual; you wonder if they'll act on them; you wonder if they'll ever make it to the City of Love.

The elegance of Diane Lane helps the tension stay enjoyable and Arnaud Viard is a feasible smitten bachelor, completely unbothered by the fact the woman he courts is married to his friend.

Watching this will make you want to take a road trip through the back roads of France to smell the lavender, drink good wine and fall in love.

~~~

SIFF Sighting: WINNIE (documentary; France)

Last night I screened Winnie, a documentary about South African leader Winnie Mandela.

Though I'd seen countless documentaries and films about her former husband Nelson, I'd never seen a film dedicated to Winnie's story alone, so it's good I began with this one.

Things I learned:

• She was much angrier than her husband, even at the time of his imprisonment.
• She was treated horribly, with repeated arrests and harassment throughout the saga.
• She makes no apologies for her actions, but admits the years of bloodshed should never have happened.
• She is blamed to this day for a murder by activists loyal to her (some claim she ordered it).
• She has no desire to slow her activism, though she is now over 80 years of age.

It was a solid film, though difficult to watch in many places because of the archival footage. I especially appreciated the candid insight from Mandela herself and her daughter.

~~~

Winnie screened at the 43rd annual Seattle International Film Festival.

Our Summer in Provence

Today I saw Our Summer in Provence, starring Jean Reno and Lukas Pelissier.

When Irene (Anna Galiena) takes in her daughter's children for the summer as she navigates a new world as a divorcee, her husband Paul (Reno) is furious. He has been estranged from their girl for 17 years and feels she's dumping her children upon them unfairly.

The children, Adrien (Hugo Dessioux), Léa (Chloé Jouannet) and Theo (Pelissier), are equally unexcited to be there, used to the fast Paris lifestyle. In their eyes, Provence is rural and boring and lacks a strong Internet signal. Plus, Theo is deaf, so only his brother and sister know how to properly communicate with him via sign language.

They all get off to a rough start with Léa's rebelling like her mother, and Adrian's typical teenage laziness acting as a catalyst for frustration from his grandfather. It seems for a while that Theo, who is proud to help with the olive trees on their estate, may be the only one willing to embrace the change.

As the summer continues, a problem Paul is battling comes front and center, and the family reaches a turning point. I can't say more than that without spoiling the film, but it's conventional, yet powerful.

In fact, that's a great way to sum up the whole film: conventional, yet powerful.

Where the main plot and characters are painfully formulaic, their story is redeemed my superb acting, gorgeous scenery and an abundance of scenes that don't take the dramatic too far.

The film made me think of my own family's dynamics and made me yearn for another European summer.

Our Summer in Provence screened at the 41st annual Seattle International Film Festival.

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Les Misérables

Today I saw Les Misérables, starring Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe.

The famous musical is so well-known at this point, I don't feel the need to recount the plot, but I will say that this rendition, sung live by its actors, certainly communicates the sentiment.

Director Tom Hooper thankfully doesn't add flash where none is necessary. Much like its anticipated awards season rival, Lincoln, it feels more like a stage performance than a film at some points, but that's forgiven in the context of the narrative.

Hugh Jackman couldn't be better as Valjean, with his earnest glances and dignified actions; Russell Crowe is equally superb as the rough Javert, nailing every line and mannerism.

Where I cringed a bit was when Anne Hathaway over-acted her part as Fantine, and her beautiful singing was overshadowed by her exaggerated looks of torture and despair. She would have been much more powerful if she'd played it understated. But oh, well. Her screen time is minimal after the first act, and others pick up where she left off—Amanda Seyfried as her daughter Cosette, and the refreshing Helena Bonham Carter as Madame Thénardier were welcome sights, as was Eddie Redmayne, who played an impressive Marius.

The aerial shots and meticulous costumes also add a grandeur to the film, which will surely be remembered at the Oscars for its sets and design, if not for its actors.

Overall, this is a satisfying, if not perfect, re-make of a story more often told as a play.

~~~

Heartbreaker

Today I saw Heartbreaker, starring Vanessa Paradis and Romain Duris.

We all have loved ones with partners we'd like to trade. Whether they be adulterous or simply annoying, at some point we all fantasize about breaking said couples up, but seldom follow through.

However, if there were a breakup-for-hire third party who we could solicit to do our dirty work, would we take the risk?

Many would, according to the premise of this film.

Alex (Duris) makes a living seducing women out of their current relationships with the help of his sister and her dim-witted husband. He makes it a rule not to break up what he perceives to be "happy" couples and ends his pairings immediately after accomplishing his task.

The father of Juliette (Paradis) has commissioned him for a rush-project of sorts—her wedding to a Brit they're not fond of is due to take place in a matter of days, so Alex will have to work fast to win her over.

During his "research" of the client, he learns she loves George Michael music and quickly rigs the car with vintage Wham! hits (though the way he achieves it seems needlessly elaborate). He also begins memorizing her favorite movie, Dirty Dancing, to learn the dance moves of Patrick Swayze's character.

Alex poses as Juliette's bodyguard to gain 24/7 access to her, and like many formulaic romantic comedies, he doesn't like her at first. She is the pampered princess; he the working-class simpleton.

Of course that changes, and he begins to make progress on his mission, but this is where the movie lost me. Vanessa is model-beautiful and her husband-to-be is Prince Charming handsome. Alex is skinny, somewhat unclean and sloppy. His actions are so exaggerated he comes off as a buffoon and the way he conveys his "love" for the things she adores isn't terribly convincing.

Throw in the slapstick nature of the supporting characters (his sister and brother-in-law, and her sex-crazed best friend) and all of the sweetness of the idea here is gone.

I enjoyed the leading lady's performance, but without a believable match for her to have to decide between, this film just couldn't work as it was intended.

I may have to cleanse my palette and throw good-old Dirty Dancing into the DVD player.

~~~

Séraphine

On Saturday night, I saw Séraphine, starring Yolande Moreau and Ulrich Tukur.

Séraphine de Senlis was a famous French painter who died in a mental institution in 1942. This film gives us a glimpse into her life from the time of her discovery until the time of her death, which proves to be a detriment because the subject is so fascinating.

Séraphine (played by the magnificent Yolande Moreau) when we meet her is a poverty-stricken housekeeper who bows her head in compliance with every order that is barked in her direction. She worked in a convent before serving private families, so she maintains a strong religious faith and ethic. She also hears from angels.

After her grueling hours of scrubbing and cleaning each day, she retreats to her small quarters to paint as the angels instruct her to. She creates lush portraits of scenery—flowers and fruits in vibrant hues that rival those of any fine artist.

A guest who comes to stay in the home where she works, Wilhelm Uhde (Tukur), stumbles upon a piece of her artwork and begins questioning its origins. The affluent homeowner tells the truth: her housekeeper painted it and she can't wait to get rid of it. Uhde is an art dealer who has made many notable discoveries in the art world and believes her work could sell.

He encourages Séraphine to keep developing her gift, then must flee the area because of the looming war. She does continue painting—using ingredients of her own creation mixed in with traditional paints—and hones her craft to impressive new levels.

How did she learn to do this? What was her childhood like? Did anyone else in her family have the gift? All of these questions go unanswered in the film, but crave to be asked.

By the time Uhde returns in the late 1920s, Séraphine has an arsenal of works available for his purchase and promotion. He gladly obliges and sends the always-poor artist into financial freedom.

Unfortunately, the story does not have a happy ending. Séraphine spends her riches very rapidly despite the approaching Depression and continues to hear the angels sending her messages. Her behavior grows more erratic until finally the townspeople have her committed.

Moreau's interpretation of this possibly schizophrenic artist was stunning, even if the film's pace was almost painfully slow. Because you can't help but care for this fragile soul, you stick with the story and continue to hope she will be rescued.

Of course, once Séraphine entered the hospital, she was never again aware that her talent was celebrated. She lived out her years in a lonely, confused state of medicated isolation.

Her work survived her and continues to thrive today in museums around France and exhibitions around the world. Also, one of the ingredients in her paintings has apparently served as an incredible preservative so the colors continue to appear as they were when she mixed them.

If only the angels she heard could show her how much joy her work brought to the world.

~~~

Inglourious Basterds

Tonight I saw Inglourious Basterds, starring Brad Pitt and Christoph Waltz.

I was the perfect age to fall for Quentin Tarantino's magic when his first films hit the big screen. Reservoir Dogs happened in high school and Pulp Fiction defined college. I distinctly remember all of the "men" in my circle going to see Pulp Fiction opening night; then my polite boyfriend at the time taking me alone the following night, worried for my reaction. I apparently laughed harder than any of them had.

We could quote the 'Madonna' scene from Dogs in our sleep and the soundtracks of both films played constantly for the next four years throughout our apartments in Columbia, Missouri.

Now the most famous Missourian—Brad Pitt—is the star of QT's new flick about a Jewish-American group of soldiers (nicknamed the 'basterds') who, of course fictionally, terrorize Nazis who are occupying France (did I mention it's 1941?), scalping and killing them as savagely as they did their victims.

Pitt is intentionally funny as southern Lieutenant Aldo Raine. With a mustache like Hitler's and an accent that sounds as if Sling Blade and Dolly Parton had a child, he mugs throughout the movie pausing for laughs as often as we'll offer them (which I'll admit, is sort of frequently). Christoph Waltz who plays the Nazi Colonel Hans Landa, however, steals the show. His balance of slime, refined politeness and revolting evil comes out in a charming way that's somewhat difficult to explain, so I'll just say this: when the camera is near him, your focus is nowhere else. Not even on the former Sexiest Man Alive.

And of course, there is a damsel in distress by way of Shoshana (Melanie Laurent), the young Jewish girl who escaped the Colonel's wrath only to encounter him years later at her cinema in Paris. Her expressions and mannerisms play the role perfectly with minimal words and maximum intention. An especially great scene takes place over dessert with the Colonel.

Truthfully, there is a lot to like about this movie. With Ennio Morricone and David Bowie both appearing on the soundtrack, there is a distinctive flavor that accompanies each scene and beat almost perfectly, and the bold reds and blacks that paint the canvas of most Tarantino films are also present and effective.

But while his earlier hits and even the more recent Death Proof had a palpable pace, Basterds drags in many places that are intended to infuse tension.

There are also many 'shocking' violent scenes, but once you've gasped through the first bloody few, the remaining 15 or 20 seem glib. I dare say...they're gratuitous.

All in all, it's not really a war film or a crime caper or a black comedy. True to Tarantino's style, it's a wondersalad of all of the above without the major elements that make any of the genres work.

Clever dialog, superb actors and bad guys everyone wants to see 'get theirs' will go a long way, but unfortunately don't add up to a victorious directorial return to form.

Cheri

Tonight I saw Cheri, starring Michelle Pfeiffer and Rupert Friend.

Prostitution never looked so good.

Lea (Pfeiffer) is an escort-to-the-stars in turn-of-the-century France. Her friend Charlotte (Kathy Bates) is past her prime and concerned more with the upbringing of her teenage son Chéri (Friend) than with establishing more clients. The only women they mingle with are those in their shared profession and competition seems absent from their tangles, as there are plenty of men to go around.

But Lea only wants one man—or boy, really. She wants Chéri, who has seduced her into letting him stay at her Normandy estate for a greedy length of time. She shows him the proper way around a bedroom, buys him lavish gifts, feeds him, clothes him, and probably bathes him. She is his lover, but she is also his surrogate mother.

When his real mother returns to collect him and marry him off to another teenager, Lea is devastated but retains her dignity. As the new young couple heads to Italy for a honeymoon, Lea escapes to a new home and leaves no forwarding address.

Both parties are miserable apart—Chéri's marriage, though faithful, is completely loveless, and Lea seems to take on another lover only to pass the time.

When they finally realize they can't happily live apart, it may be too late to do anything about it. Oh, the perils of true love.

As a fan of the book, I knew what the outcome would be and I dare say the film is much lighter and funnier than the original text. The lead couple is convincing and well-matched with Pfeiffer's sharp, mature features directly contrasting the feminine curves of Friend's. But the real scene-stealer is the always-phenomenal Kathy Bates, who lights up the screen for better or for worse with her spunky energy.

To break this film down to one word, I'd call it a "romp."

And a pleasurable one, for what it's worth.

~~~

Summer Hours

Last night I saw Summer Hours, starring Juliette Binoche and Charles Berling.

The audience is brought into the film as if they are meeting the friends of the person they're dating for the first time. Immediately there is conversation, food and laughter in a setting that holds sentimental value for the attendees, but none of the witnesses.

Helene (Edith Scob), the family matriarch, is hosting a reunion of sorts for her three adult children: Frederic (Berling), Adrienne (Binoche) and Jeremie (Jeremie Renier) at their beautiful summer house. There is an elaborate garden where they cut fresh flowers for the tables, an elegant patio for entertaining, and an interior that features pricey works of art that Helene has collected throughout the years. The house is the main character in this film--and rightfully so.

In one of the earliest scenes, Helene takes Frederic on a 'tour' of the inside, pointing out items he'll want to sell when she expires. This rattles him, but she's intent on preparing him for life as the family's default leader (and let's face it, when elderly parents pass on, there's always one sibling that does all of the work).

When the children and grandchildren depart, we're only shown a brief hint of Helene's lasting depression, which confines her to a chair by the window. A few scenes later, she's gone.

When the children reconvene to make decisions about her estate, their needs and opinions differ. The artsy daughter is content leaving her childhood in the past and making a new life for herself in America; the enterprising younger son is happy to move his family to Asia to make more money; the eldest wants to keep the house and its contents to maintain a sense of continuity, which is already rapidly deteriorating. They all go about these negotiations peacefully.

The refreshing part of this story is that none of the children need the money from the sale of the house to live a good life. With this group, it's not about the money, or even about the material possessions. It's about doing right by their mother, who was a bit like a museum piece herself--visited infrequently, more valuable the older she got and desperately lonely, save for her caretaker.

The pace is slow, but the organic feel of the life lived by the film's characters keeps the audience wanting to know how it will all turn out.

It's a slice of life with a dash of depth.

Baby Love

Last night at SIFF I saw Baby Love, a charming French comedy.

For my full review, visit Cinebanter.com.

Tell No One

Today I saw Tell No One, starring François Cluzet and Kristin Scott Thomas.

It was the topic of Cinebanter #56, which is available here.

In the meantime, check out the book this film was based upon:

Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired

Tonight I saw Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired, a documentary by Marina Zenovich.

Thank goodness someone finally created a coherent timeline that is the mess of Polanski's life, because in all of my years I've never quite grasped what happened to him.

After seeing this, three things I suspected were confirmed:

1) Roman should be celebrated for the artistic genius that he is.
2) Roman should've undoubtedly been punished for the crime he clearly committed.
3) There was no way in hell Roman was going to get a fair sentence in the California courts with the corrupt judge that was assigned to his case.

If I'm correct in my assumption, Roman was just a typical party-scene Hollywood filmmaker in the 60s that loved his life and loved his wife until she was brutally murdered by a crazy man's cult.

Once Sharon was gone, his world seemed to tailspin, as often happens in times of desperate grief, and to endure the pain of the press crucifying him for having a hand in her murder (when really he was out of the country at the time and had nothing to do with it), he sought refuge in women, drugs and distractions.

One of the casualties of this distraction was Samantha, a California girl wanting to break into the business at the age of 13. They were alone, he was photographing her, clothes came off, drugs were ingested, sex resulted.

His actions were reprehensible. Inexcusable without question, but the way the system handled his case was also unfair. When the attorneys on both sides cry foul, you know something's wrong.

It could be argued that despite justice not being served, Polanski made the right decision deporting himself to France before his final sentencing. Assuming he's done no one else harm, he's certainly been more productive as a cinematic genius than he ever could have been eating up American taxpayers' money, rotting behind bars. Even his accuser didn't want that, and shouldn't she have a say in the matter?

I can't help but wonder what would've happened if he'd taken the offer to come back to the U.S. and had the case heard by a new judge.

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Man on Wire

Tonight I saw the documentary Man on Wire.

Visit Cinebanter.com to read my full review.

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The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Today I saw The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, starring Mathieu Amalric and Marie Josée Croze.

It's a tale told mostly through the eyes of the subject, Jean-Dominique Bauby (Amalric), the real-life former editor of Elle magazine in France. On the way to the theater with his son one day, he has a massive stroke that leaves him paralyzed save for his left eye. This "locked-in" syndrome is so rare the physicians at first seem as if they don't know what to do with him. But, with the help of speech and physical therapists, Bauby learns to communicate by blinking.

Marie Josée Croze plays therapist Henriette, who develops a revised alphabet arranged in order of use frequency to make conversation with the patient easier. This results in Bauby requesting that his publisher honor his existing contract to write a book and the company sending a representative to take his dictation. What transpires is The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, the book in which this film is based upon.

This memoir detailed the feelings of a formerly vibrant man who has been reduced to nothing more than a hostage in his own body. Thankfully (or perhaps tragically) he retains his wit, sadness, sexual desires and memory, which he examines throughout.

The film shows us crushes on his therapists, discontent with his ex-partner (he purposely never married the mother of this children), longing for his mistress and love for his father.

It spotlights an imperfect man in impossible circumstances with a necessity to express himself creatively by any means available.

It forces us to see how lazy we are by not accomplishing all we hope to in the here and now, and reminds us to treasure the time and people we have in our lives.

There is one scene where a well-placed U2 song illustrates the type of man Bauby once was and how he chose to live his life before the stroke. This scene in particular hit me hard because the normalcy of his world was so previously carefree. You got the sense that his status and charisma afforded him more leeway than regular men would be granted by their women, children, etc.

But he overcame the depression of his situation long enough to write the novel describing it and lived barely long enough to see it published.

We should all be so productive.

Sicko

Today I saw the documentary Sicko, by Michael Moore.

It is the topic of Cinebanter 34, which is available here.

Paris Je'Taime

Yesterday I saw Paris Je'Taime, starring Natalie Portman and Elijah Wood.

It will be the topic of Cinebanter 33, so tune in on July 3 for our review.