Arts

Lost and Found

Although fashion is known to take more risks in cosmopolitan cities like Paris and New York, vintage shops have slowly been making their way to Boston over the last couple of years. In fact, vintage stores seem to have found their niche in Davis Square, which is now home to consignment and thrift shops like Poor Little Rich Girl, Goodwill and more recently, Artifaktori Vintage and the Buffalo Exchange. In with the old, make it new.

Capitalism: A Love Story' profits from creative direction, insightful message

"Capitalism: A Love Story" (2009) can be seen as the crescendo of documentary director Michael Moore's film-making career. He attempts to examine and critique America's — or more accurately, corporate America's — economic practices. The first part of the film recounts the United States' economic history since the last half of the 20th century, looking at how the U.S. descended from its economic golden age into the hole it's in now. This downward spiral is traced back to former president Ronald Regan and the members of the Treasury Department, which is depicted as a thinly veiled cartel run by Goldman Sachs ex-executives.

Rock supergroup delivers fantastic live show

These days, there are few rock bands that can sell out a gig in mere minutes. Fewer still can inspire ticket-holding fans to line up four blocks from the venue before doors open, and even fewer can inspire such anticipation that audience members will heckle the opening act before they even start. But the House of Blues in Boston played host to no ordinary band on Sunday night, nor even an ordinary supergroup. With nary a single to their name, Them Crooked Vultures brought their first-ever tour to Boston and stunned the audience with a lean, mean set of never-before-heard songs.

Caryn Horowitz | The Cultural Culinarian

I had been waiting for this past weekend since 4:49 p.m. on May 27. At that precise moment, my mother received an e-mail update from the Food Network's New York City Wine & Food Festival telling her that tickets for the event would go on sale June 15. We immediately circled the date on our calendars — this was not going to be a repeat of last year, when the unthinkable happened: Tickets sold out before I even heard that Food Network was finally hosting a festival in NYC.

No 'Lie': Fox crime drama hits the mark

From white lies to malicious distortions of the truth, the things people say often do not reflect reality or their feelings about it. But the protagonists of Fox's show "Lie To Me" are able to see beyond individuals' attempts to conceal the truth by noticing minute details of their body language.   

Say 'Oui' to the energy and color of 'Paris'

To feel the spirit of a place after living there for just a month is a near-impossible challenge; to feel it through a brief movie is even more difficult. Yet "Paris" comes close to reveling the heart of its  featured city in the space of two hours, thanks to the efforts of the talented director Cédric Klapisch and an extraordinary group of actresses and actors.

Williams wails on 'Brand New Eyes'

If pop enthusiasts have seen Paramore as a guilty pleasure since the release of the group's first album four years ago, then they'll be feeling slightly guiltier about "Brand New Eyes". Paramore's latest album, though adequate on its own, simply pales in comparison to the group's sophomore album, "Riot!" (2007).

Knep's 'Exempla' uses interactive digital media to explore serious questions

    Boston-area artist Brian Knep reinterprets the drives that motivate humanity in his exhibit, "Exempla," now at the Koppelman Gallery in the Tufts University Art Gallery. Heavy topic though this may be, Knep makes the refreshing choice to breach the serious subject with a sense of humor. Using an interactive digital medium and whimsically drawn creatures, in his six pieces Knep examines the impetus behind our choices as human beings.     The pieces, with titles such as "Escape" (2008), "Excel" (2009) and "Embark" (2009), are all projected onto the darkened gallery walls. The digital images begin with thousands of small stick-figure characters in a certain formation. The characters themselves resemble line drawings of eggs with crude faces, legs and arms. They are very expressive, evoking something between human and animal.     One piece starts with a projected grid with one animated character inside each square. The viewer can then manipulate this initial formation with the aid of a button, by turning a knob or by starting a timer. Each of the six pieces has a different tool with which the viewer can change the figures on the screen, and all produce different results.     The piece "Erect" (2009) starts with thousands of animated figures forming a massive, precariously wobbling, tower-like pile, which is projected into a simple, round area of light. Underneath the projection is a small metal knob which, when turned, causes the tower made out of the figures to collapse. The figures then turn around like socks in a dryer as the knob is continually turned by the viewer.     This collapse of the tower formation is not just caused by the viewer's turning of the knob. After watching the projection for a while, it becomes clear that the wobbling tower formation made by the figures continuously collapses after a period of time. Despite the repeated collapses, the figures ceaselessly reform the same wobbling tower shape — only to fall once again.     This cycle is thus affected by two factors: the interference of an external stimulus (turning the knob) and the small figures' own ceaseless efforts and failures. Knep makes a strong statement about the things humans strive to build and create, but which inevitably are destroyed by an outside force or simply fall to the passage of time. Perhaps more disturbing is the implication that man will be the cause of the destruction of his own creations.     Another piece, entitled "Embark," depicts a similarly fruitless scenario. This time, the projection of light is set up in two parallel, vertical test tube shapes. One of the test tubes is crowded with tiny drawn figures, all struggling and bumping around the shape of the projected light, while the other is more sparsely populated but with the same attempts at escape by the figures inside it. By holding down one of two blue buttons next to each projection, a bubble of light is formed, and a number of the small figures flock into it. This bubble then travels across the dark space in between the two projections, melds with the other projection and releases the animated figures into the other test tube.     Pressing either button results in an ongoing migration of animated forms from one test tube to the next. But once an animated figure has reached the other side, its struggle to escape does not stop. Like the animated figures in "Erect," the figures seem to be motivated by a ceaseless, irrational force that makes them set on one goal only — movement — with no regard for the result. "Embark" questions the purpose of the human desire for movement: Is it just a longing for change? Are there any plans for our movements? Or are they just a way to leave behind a situation we have created for ourselves and will create again in a new location? Again, Knep brings up heavy questions in a whimsical manner.     "Exempla" is a disarmingly entertaining exhibit that forces us to examine our own ceaseless habits, the patterns we repeat without thought every day. What are the forces that drive us? Do we even think about what is behind our actions, or do we, like the animations in "Erect" and "Embark," merely respond to stimuli?

Audiences soak in 'Beaches'

    Enchanting trapeze artists on the beach, a crazy cartoon cat with a robotic voice, the protagonist dressed up as a talking potato — all whimsical moments which make up the patchwork account of Agnès Varda's life.     Surreal events, such as a complete office staff relocated to work on a sandy beach, mix with old footage and jolt viewers out of their comfort zones. Varda lets her imagination and playfulness shine through in every scene, creating a visual biography that accurately reflects her nature.     "The Beaches of Agnès" is not a strictly chronological story. More than a simple autobiographical documentary, it is a montage of memories and images, both historical and personal. A boat on a river from a bird's-eye view, first-person perspectives and shots from the ground looking up are just some of the complexities used in the movie that make it stunning and unpredictable.     Agnès Varda is a renowned director who was part of the French New Wave, a movement that favored personal expression through film and long takes instead of many quick cuts. Her first film was "La Pointe-Courte" (1954), which she followed with what many call her most important film, "Cléo from 5 to 7" (1962). "The Gleaners and I" (2000) is a more recent film — a documentary about foraging, whether at flea markets, in fields or in trash bins.     Varda's latest film begins with a windy day on a beach, as tilted mirrors reflect the waves and sand. Agnès plays herself, walking barefoot in the sand while directing the crew to set up the camera facing the ocean. Her fuchsia scarf blows in the wind, whipping across her face. The wavering mirrors are indicators of the feeling of the movie — a slightly disorienting view of reality.     "Beaches of Agnès" incorporates history as well as personal details of Varda's life, giving every personal moment a historical context. Each decade has a different defining character for Varda — women's liberation, hippies and peace rallies, for example, characterize the sixties in America.     The movie is in French with English subtitles. The few words in English are jarring, breaking up the flowing French. In one scene, a couple has a nasty fight all in English, with the language making the cutting words seem even harsher.     The beautiful shots of the North Sea and later, the river beneath the Victoire and Tivoli Bridges, are continuous reminders of the importance of water and place. Varda says that she calls any man who looks out on the sea Ulysses, because he does not want to return home. Her enigmatic comments reveal a depth beyond her jokes and humor.    The vivid, saturated colors highlight the environment in which Varda lives. The background bursts out of the screen, and the film keeps the viewer's attention, waiting to see where Varda will go next.     This movie cannot be watched in the same way as a regular American action movie or chick flick. The viewer has to take each scene independently, as most of them are connected by nothing but Varda herself. Even though this film takes more effort to follow and enjoy than a predictable romantic comedy, it is worth it.     The movie becomes more emotional at the end, when Varda talks about the sickness and death of her husband, Jacques Demy, who died of AIDS at age 59. She films roses and begonias lolling on the floor in memory of her husband.     The most powerful shots in the movie are the close-ups of her dying husband. Varda explains that she deals with his illness by filming. At first it is hard to tell that the snowy hair and sallow skin belong to Demy. In 1989, AIDS was shameful; he never talked about his illness to his family or friends.     The fragmentation of the documentary corresponds with Varda's memory. She explains that her memory does not organize events by chronology; there is objective time, but also subjective time. Varda compares memory to "confused flies," which appear in a grotesque scene showing flies buzzing and crawling all over a nude woman.     Reality is played with and distorted in this film. There are scenes in which four separate narratives happen in four squares on the screen; mirrors reflect the cameramen and sound equipment; and Varda's face is superimposed over a shot of a desolate beach.     "If we opened me up, we'd find beaches," Varda says in the film.     "Beaches" stretches out Varda's vibrant experiences and visions in a luscious montage of comic, tragic and surreal moments. All the tiny grains of sand — in this case, the moments making up one woman's life — grip the viewer from start to finish.

Barrymore 'whips it' good

Autumn is typically the time of year in which movie studios begin releasing more serious, thoughtful fare. A film about roller derby, then, might seem a little out of place in the fall lineup. But like any good sports story, this one is not just about a competition; there's more to it than meets the eye.

Folk super group puts 'Monster' effort into album

Colin Beavan becomes the 'No Impact Man'

Owen boosts 'Boys' with brilliant performance

How can someone take complete care of someone else without knowing how to take care of himself? It's easy to assume that parents know exactly what they're doing as soon as a child is born, but this is decidedly not the case. "The Boys are Back" tries to address these issues and succeeds most of time, largely thanks to an incredible performance by Clive Owen.

Bye Bye Brownies!

I was sitting on my couch with a friend last week when I first heard that the New York City Department of Education (DOE) has effectively banned bake sales. We both looked at each other after skimming the post on Epicurious.com we were reading, utterly bewildered, and proceeded to have two very different visceral reactions to the story.

Take a ride in 'Zombieland'

In the ebb and flow of Hollywood trends, there are a few film archetypes that inevitably return and see a resurgence in popularity every few years: pirates, vampires and, of course, the undead. Strict horror movies rarely appeal to a wide audience, hence the adaptation of the hormone-ridden "Twilight" (2008) and now "Zombieland,"  a zombie comedy with touches of romance. Eschewing genre conventions and employing a very modern and hip brand of humor, "Zombieland," despite a lack of any serious weight, is a thoroughly entertaining romp through post-apocalyptic America.

Cougar Town' home to gender stereotypes

Most college students find it hard to believe that 40 is the new 20. It seems impossible that someone roughly our mothers' age could toss back shots, flirt with bouncers and bring younger guys home for the night.   

Hugh Laurie back in the 'House' for sixth season

There's no denying that any sane person would refuse to be diagnosed by a brilliantly cynical doctor with no morals and a crippling Vicodin addiction. But fans of Fox's hit show "House" agree that watching Hugh Laurie as Dr. Gregory House torment others with his cruel sarcasm is not only okay, it's much more entertaining than they'd care to admit.    

Harrelson and Eisenberg talk zombies, costumes

"Zombieland," out now in theaters, follows a few survivors of the zombie apocalypse and details the unlikely bonds they forge with each other. The Daily participated in a roundtable interview with the film's two principal actors, Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg. Question: What part of the script really caught your eye and made you want to do the film? Woody Harrelson: For me, it was mostly the 100 pages in between the front and back covers. Jesse Eisenberg:  That's a good part. Yeah, I would say everything except the title page, because when I saw it was a zombie movie, I couldn't imagine how it could offer a character that an actor would actually want to play. But from page one, it was clever, the lines were actually funny, the characters were nuanced and real and even the drama was touching. WH: I felt the same way, that it was bound to be stupid, but the writers really did a great job. Q: Did you find that the director had a specific vision, or was there leeway in where the scenes could [go]? WH: The director had everything storyboarded and was really very prepared, and I think that's best kind of director — almost over-prepared, but not to the point where he didn't allow spontaneity and input into things like blocking. He was pretty open-minded, which I think helps a film a lot. Q: How much creative input did you have into the characters? JE: The characters were very well-written and well-defined, except for Woody's character, who was supposed to wear "thick, ironic glasses" and I never knew what that meant. WH: I actually kind of liked the idea, but it was nixed. But I had never taken that much time over a character's outfit in my life, and I felt that the look was so important to the character. There were so many meetings over it, but you want to see the character and believe it right away. JE: The director originally wanted shirts with funny sayings, like [shirts from] BustedTees, and it was so over the top. There's a fine line with this movie, and it would have become an annoying kitschy thing, and thankfully it didn't. So we ended up just going to American Apparel and picked out some clothing. Q: What was the process of getting into character? WH: I mostly just smashed s--t up. JE: I've been getting into character for 25 years. So there wasn't much research to be done, it was mostly about defining how comedic you could be while staying realistic. Q: Was there any improv in the scenes? JE: We were filming on video, not film, and that gives you a lot more leeway to improvise, so after we finished a scripted scene, the director would let us improvise, which lends a sort of freshness and spontaneity that's lost after like 20 takes, so some of that is in the movie. Q: Both of you have done work in both theater and television. How would you relate those experiences and would you like to return to them in the future? JE: I want to be a playwright, ultimately, and people are reading my play now because I'm in a zombie movie. I wrote a musical that's going to be produced soon, it's called "Me Time." It's a satire on modern self-indulgence. WH: Theater is what really drew me to this fine profession. I love it and want to get back to it soon. I was in London recently, doing Tennessee Williams' "The Night of the Iguana," and I really liked the production and how it turned out, so I'm eager to get back to it. Q: Are there any projects that you've done that you regret making? WH: Oh yeah, although, there's no point in really talking about them. JE: Usually you know on the first day of shooting, "Oh, this was a mistake." Every day on the set of "Zombieland," I thought "What am I doing here, I'm doing terrible," but when I saw the end result, I was a bit more happy with my performance. WH: And you realized it was all in your head.

Lying' is a cinematic sin

There is no fiction and no flattery in Mark Bellison's world, just facts. Mark is Ricky Gervais' character in the new comedy, "The Invention of Lying," and, as the title suggests, the only person in his world who can tell a lie. The unfortunate truth is that the film only works for a while, and then takes a tragic dive into snide mockery.       

Five' is not quite heaven

    Do you ever wonder what it would be like to mix a bunch of different foods together in a blender and eat it? Sure, by themselves the ingredients all taste great, but together they just don't mix.     The same concept applies to Oliver Hirschbiegel's new Irish film "Five Minutes of Heaven." As separate entities, the acting, tone, screenplay and directing style all could work, but together they struggle to produce a coherent movie.    The film opens with a flashback, revealing 17-year-old Alistair Little who wants praise and acceptance from his Protestant crowd in Northern Ireland. Circa 1975, times are tense, and violence looms around the corner between Protestants and Catholics. Alistair plots to murder a Catholic teen, and although the justification is murky, he decides to go through with the plan. When he gets there, his target's young brother, Joe, is outside kicking around a soccer ball. They lock eyes, but Alistair is in too deep to turn back; he puts three bullets into his target and flees.     Fast forward to a few decades after the murder. Joe (James Nesbitt) and Alistair (Liam Neeson) are in separate cars on their way to meet each other for the first time. The details are a bit vague, but the media has organized a get-together for the two men in an effort to promote reconciliation and forgiveness. With revenge on his mind, Joe attends the meeting with an ulterior motive while Alistair simply wants to express his deep regret.     The acting anchors the film throughout its 90-minute running time. Even though the script leaves very little to work with, the two headliners squeeze every ounce of juice they can from it.         As Joe, Neeson is Mr. Reliable, giving the audience a quietly powerful performance. Alistair, the supposed villain of the film, seems arrogant at first, but beneath his exterior lays a sullen man full of regret for his past actions.     Surprisingly, though, Nesbitt outshines his counterpart. This is partly because the script gives him much more to work with, but it is also attributed to his acting talent. With distinct, blood-shot eyes, Nesbitt brings an obsessive weariness to the role. He's always so full of anger that he could snap at any moment. In a better film, he would be on the fast track to awards and big-time recognition.     Hirschbiegel is best known for directing the lauded 2004 Hitler film "Downfall," but here he fails to live up to that standard. His style employs too many stagnant medium shots that would better fit a documentary. The flashback works well and maximizes the stakes, but the rest of the film is not quick enough to keep up. The subject matter requires built-up tension, but the slow pace works against the slim potential the script offers and never achieves that heart-throbbing sensation.     That being said, Hirschbiegel's use of sound is fascinating. Portions of the film are dominated by the ticking of a clock or heavy breathing and allow for some tension to seep through. The sound comes across as desolate and bold without being too gimmicky, and it stood out as a major plus.     Then there's the ending. Screenwriter Guy Hibbert must have been trying to send some optimistic message, but it definitely falls flat. The first 80 minutes of the film deal with such strong personal issues and would seem to build up to some amazing crescendo, yet it never climaxes the way one might expect. The ending is too neat for a movie that tries to live in reality. Everything gets wrapped up in a bow and loose ends are tied. How do feelings brewing for decades get resolved in mere days? It is illogical and cheats the viewer.     Hirschbiegel and Hibbert present some very valid questions about reconciliation and revenge. Unfortunately, those questions may best be answered in a documentary dealing with this subject matter instead of through an action flick set in Ireland. Ultimately, "Five Minutes in Heaven" has great ambition but only average execution, leaving the audience wondering what could have been.