In human lives, 40 may be the new 30, or so Bowflex salesmen and the staff of Men's Health would have us believe. In the lifespan of film festivals, though, 40 is the equivalent of a century. Forty years ago, "independent film" meant Stan Brakhage, not Juno; Sundance was just Butch Cassidy's pretty-boy pal; and a scuzzy, druggy yet artistically ambitious biker picture called Easy Rider undermined the studios' every idea of what supposedly made a successful movie.
That year, 1969, was when Mary Jane Coleman founded the Sinking Creek Film Celebration on a farm in the community of Tusculum. For decades, even after its move to Vanderbilt's Sarratt Cinema, the pioneers of American experimental film and documentary passed through its ranks—from Scorpio Rising voluptuary Kenneth Anger to the folklore guardians of Appalachia's acclaimed Appalshop.
Times changed, however, and the festival altered with them. In the mid-1990s, as the rise of Kevin Smith, Quentin Tarantino and others turned "indie" into a brand that essentially meant "mainstream but cool," Sinking Creek ditched its unwieldy homespun name—and its longtime focus on the bleeding edge of cinema—for an ambitious new life as the Nashville International Film Festival. A decade later, the NIFF is the NaFF, and an event that once attracted only several hundred viewers to a college cinema now tops 22,000 at Regal's Green Hills megaplex.
Forty is a transitionary age for everybody. The NaFF is no exception. This is its first year with a new artistic director, Brian Owens, who takes over from the abrupt departure last year of the NaFF's highly visible (and valuable) movie maven Brian Gordon. Gone too is longtime festival coordinator Mandy McBroom. A new logo positions the festival as part of the city skyline—a sign of its ambitions as the NaFF steams toward the half-century mark.
The 40th annual NaFF gets underway Thursday night for a week of movies, workshops, schmoozing, people-watching, parties and hardcore movie geeking at Green Hills. The opening night exemplifies the NaFF's all-things-to-everyone approach: something local (The Lonely, Brent Stewart's behind-the-scenes doc about the making of Harmony Korine's Mister Lonely, with Stewart and Korine in person); something fiction (the Zooey Deschanel-Joseph Gordon-Levitt romantic comedy 500 Days of Summer); something non-fiction (Capturing Reality: The Art of Documentary). Over the following week, there'll be music docs, animation, retrospective screenings from throughout the NaFF's first 40 years, and red-carpet arrivals every night.
Below, you'll find capsule reviews of more than 30 features at this year's NaFF, with more available online at nashvillescene.com. (Watch the Scene's blog Pith in the Wind also for festival updates.) We've also provided sidebars on retro screenings, films of local interest, and some of the workshops scattered throughout the week.
We leave you with some tips for getting the most out of the 40th annual NaFF, whether you're a first-timer or an old hand. First, purchase advance tickets ($11, $9 for students and seniors) whenever possible at the NaFF box office, located in the Green Hills downstairs lobby. That goes double for films with visiting celebs or which have only one screening. (The black comedy How to Be with Twilight heartthrob Robert Pattinson has already sold out one screening, thanks to some timely Internet rumor-mongering; he's not attending, as far as anyone knows.) Also watch the lobby for announcements of last-minute screenings, rush tickets, cancellations and other breaking news.
Arrive at least a half-hour early, as the lines gather quickly. That's a good thing: talking to people in line lets you ride the buzz, or score tips on word-of-mouth favorites you might not have planned to see. Take a chance on a movie you know nothing about, as those are frequently the festival's biggest surprises: one candidate this year is an Irish sleeper called Kisses (screening 4:15 p.m. April 17 and 8:30 p.m. April 21). It could be the subject of a retro screening at the 2019 Nashville Film Festival—where 50 may be the new 40.
* = Strongly recommended
Friday, 17th
SORRY, THANKS
(6:15 p.m.; also 4:30 p.m. April 21)
What is it about dweebish, self-absorbed man-children that so many women find irresistible? The answer: sorry, thanks. Or, uh, something like that. (Awkward pause.) Wiley Wiggins (Dazed and Confused) is the obscure object of desire—or, like, whatever—in this tale of not-that-young-anymore young people adrift in the tepid seas of self-doubt, ambivalent hook-ups and small talk. Lots of small talk. (As one character puts it, "I'm speechy.") Though the tone is a bit uneven, Sorry elicits its share of grimaces—some of them earned—and when the story finally takes shape above all the stream-of-self-consciousness mumbling, director Dia Sokol brings it to a deft and poignant conclusion. STEVE HARUCH
* YOUSSOU N'DOUR: I BRING WHAT I LOVE
(7 p.m.; also 7:15 p.m. April 21)
Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi's film at times lacks the frame of reference and exposition Westerners might need to truly penetrate the story of N'dour and his controversial album Egypt, but the Senegalese pop sensation's message still comes through clearly. Despite critics' accusations that a pop star—a hedonistic profession in many eyes—shouldn't have released an album so fraught with Muslim subject matter, especially during the holy month of Ramadan, it's truly inspiring to see N'dour's steadfast message of harmony and international understanding eventually bring Egypt enormous critical and commercial success. Perhaps most notably, his relationships with his family, country and religion present challenging, even educational parallels with Western artists and cultural icons. D. PATRICK RODGERS
MOTHERS & DAUGHTERS
(3:15 p.m.; also 3:30 p.m. April 18)
Nearly all the men in Canadian filmmaker Carl Bessai's film are either dead or gone; their noticeable absence frames this tense, sometimes heavy-handed work about the attendant complications—mainly guilt and resentment—of familial closeness as six women fret, nitpick and agonize over everything from cheating husbands to career ambitions. There are wincingly universal moments: one unhealthily close pair (played by Babz Chula and Camille Sullivan) master the art of the explosive mother-daughter relationship that fractures and repairs itself in a dizzyingly short span, all over a shopping spat. Though the shaky faux-documentary style makes the acting feel better suited to the theater, the movie ultimately succeeds as a work about the fates we cannot escape: all the daughters who, in spite of their best efforts, will still inevitably hear their mothers' voices in their own one day. TRACY MOORE
* SITA SINGS THE BLUES
(6 p.m.; also 12:30 p.m. April 19)
Nina Paley's one-of-a-kind animated film combines Hindi mythology, shadow puppetry, a wistful account of the end of her marriage, and a soundtrack of knowing 80-year-old blues recordings by the late Annette Hanshaw. The result: my favorite movie in the festival, and the most original feature debut in a blue moon. Serving as writer, director, editor, designer, producer and animator, Paley intersperses her modern-day breakup with the plaint of Sita in the Sanskrit epic the Ramayana, who survives fire, kidnapping and multiple brush-offs by her fickle husband Rama—every detail of which is picked apart and analyzed by a chorus of Paley's Indian friends. Paley's pulsing animation is eye-popping, quick-witted and kaleidoscopic, and her movie is never less than a joy to watch—the kind of singular, personal, impossible-to-reproduce vision for which festivals were invented. Go, already! JIM RIDLEY
AMERICAN HARMONY
(3:45 p.m.; also 7 p.m. April 22)
Each year, a fiercely fought singing competition takes place to reward the best vocal talents—and it's not American Idol. Nope: It's the Barbershop Harmony Society's yearly International Convention. But as the documentary (edited by two-time Oscar winner Kate Amend and Grant Kahler) follows three quartets on their quest for the gold from the 2005 through 2007 conventions, you get to know the individuals and the love and passion they have for their craft. While hard-core barbershop fans probably saw the initial screening at last year's convention here in Nashville, this is the chance for outsiders to peer into a world that can appear corny, cheesy—or both—and very, very white, but its harmonies are transcendent. Director Aengus James will attend. BRENT ROLEN
FOR THE LOVE OF MOVIES: THE STORY OF AMERICAN FILM CRITICISM
(6:15 p.m.; also 1 p.m. April 20)
You get a better sense of why film criticism matters from reading Gerald Peary's passionately informed reviews than from watching his documentary, which struggles valiantly against the futility of its mission: using film to discuss print writing, with limited footage at best of the principals. Peary hits all the necessary touchstones, from James Agee to the heyday of Pauline Kael and Andrew Sarris, and it's great to see personal heroes such as Jonathan Rosenbaum and VVM's own J. Hoberman, however fleetingly. (On the other hand, watching former colleague Nathan Lee's face fade into the ether depressed me like nothing I've seen in years.) But the doc comes alive mainly when it swerves off the Ken Burns timeline onto more discursive terrain—as when this year's NaFF guest Elvis Mitchell describes the childhood trauma of seeing Herschell Gordon Lewis' Two Thousand Maniacs! Peary will attend. JIM RIDLEY
* WILLIAM SHATNER'S GONZO BALLET
(7:15 p.m.; also 1:30 p.m. April 18)
Don't be fooled by the title. If you're expecting an over-the-top Priceline Negotiator in a tutu, you've fallen for a major bait-and-switch—but for once, what you end up with is much better than what you were buying. After hearing Shatner interviewed on NPR, choreographer Margo Sappington was inspired to create a ballet based on Has Been, the album Shatner made with producer Ben Folds. The documentary includes interviews, behind-the-scenes clips of the recording sessions, and footage of the actual ballet. But the best part is Shatner himself, who reveals a heartfelt soul. Whether discussing his lonely childhood in Ottawa, the love he has for his wife or the passion he has for the arts in all its forms, it feels like this is the genuine man behind the myth. Shatner, Folds, Sappington and Brad Paisley will attend. BRENT ROLEN
THE NARROWS
(8:30 p.m.; also 3 p.m. April 22)
Kid from the neighborhood wants to go straight and get out, but whaddaya know, bada bing, the Mob just keeps pulling him back in. If stealing from Mean Streets, GoodFellas, Fingers, The Pope of Greenwich Village and every Mob melodrama since George Raft flipped his first coin were a crime, director François Ville would be sharing a cell with the dude who made Deuces Wild. But the movie's well acted by Kevin Zegers as the would-be photography major, Vincent D'Onofrio as his disabled dad and Eddie Cahill as the addicted pal who precipitates a crisis, and The Black Keys pack some needed punch on the soundtrack. D'Onofrio and producer Ami Armstrong are scheduled to attend. JIM RIDLEY
ASHES OF AMERICAN FLAGS: WILCO LIVE
(8:45 p.m.)
Brace yourselves, fellow Wilco fanatics: Chicago's pride and joy have finally released their first full-fledged tour doc. Despite editing that verges on frantic, Ashes of American Flags meshes live footage with brief anecdotes from Jeff Tweedy & Co. that vividly portray what life is like for a hard-touring band of increasingly massive proportions. Filmed at a handful of venues from Tulsa to Washington, D.C., the performances (including one at the Ryman) feature tunes that span the better part of Wilco's catalog, Summerteeth included. Footage shot onstage also provides rare close glances at Glenn Kotche's explosive drumming and Nels Cline's insane shredding—like it or not. D. PATRICK RODGERS
*POUNDCAKE
(9:30 p.m.; also 11 a.m. April 18)
The City of Good Neighbors' most dysfunctional clan since the Brown family in Vincent Gallo's Buffalo 66, the Morgans are exemplars of late-1980s Rust Belt repression. Carol (Kathleen Quinlan) and Cliff (Jay O. Sanders) are headed for divorce, while Robby (Troy D. Hall), Brooke Morgan (Deshja Driggs-Hall) and Charlie (Kevin Logie) putter away at dead-end jobs and misguided aspirations. Though Rafael Monserrate's dark comedy has its flaws—Sanders' bumbling patriarch is a tad Central Casting, and the film's serious moments can be forced—it provides more than enough twisted yuks to make it worth a look. Quinlan gives a strong, nuanced performance; as hook-handed, sleazeball real estate agent Ed Spade, Rob Bogue provides the film's biggest laughs. But the period-correct, guilty-pleasure soundtrack—Supertramp, Tears for Fears, Toto, Billy Idol—may be the real star. Hall, Sanders, Driggs-Hall, Logie, Bogue and Monserrate will attend. JACK SILVERMAN
THE CHASER
(10 p.m.)
A blockbuster in its native South Korea, director Na Hong-jin's voracious, densely plotted bloodbath may be the most sure-fire piece of remake bait since Infernal Affairs. Smug anti-hero Joong-ho (Kim Yun-seok), an ex-cop turned pimp, loses his smirk about the time he realizes one of his girls disappeared after her last assignment—and he just sent his single-mom favorite (Seo Yeong-hie) to the same client. What follows is a pounding array of clockwork suspense devices (ill-timed cell-phone messages, near misses, etc.) pulped together with sickening sexual violence, a cynical yet half-baked municipal-corruption subplot, and lots of foot chases and beatings. It's undeniably effective at raising your bloodlust, but its gloating regard for its own brutality makes you long for the tenderness of nihilist-cruelty poster boy Park Chan-wook. In Korean with subtitles. JIM RIDLEY
Saturday, 18th
* AUTISTIC-LIKE: GRAHAM'S STORY
(11 a.m.)
When fates deals out a devastating hand, some people flee, others shut down, and still others spring into action and fight. For Erik and Jennie Linthorst, a fuzzy diagnosis on the grayscale spectrum of autism in their young son Graham elicited a combination of these responses—plunging their family into a confusing, exhausting daily existence filled with various therapy programs and constant purposeful engagement with their son. This affectingly personal and hopeful short documentary follows the Linthorsts as they struggle daily to find the right diagnosis, effective therapy and acceptance for Graham while illuminating the issues and uncertainty faced by families with "autistic-like" children. LAURA SMITH
PRESSURE COOKER
(11:30 a.m.; also 1 p.m. April 21)
From Spellbound to Wordplay to The King of Kong, the countdown-to-competition doc has become as formulaic as Christopher Guest's mock-doc analogues. Perhaps that's because the genre is practically foolproof, as directors Mark Becker and Jennifer Grausman prove yet again by following inner-city Philadelphia high-school kids (and their tough-loving instructor Wilma Stephenson) on a quest to win a citywide cooking competition, with life-or-death scholarships at stake. Bolstered by Prince Paul's hip-hop score, it's the rare doc that might actually benefit from the sprawl of the reality-show format—but the pluck and perseverance of its subjects shine despite the bare-bones formula. JIM RIDLEY
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LENS
(2 p.m.; also 3:30 p.m. April 20)
Reed Cowan's documentary would make an instructive double feature with Afterschool (see below), and not just because both use stock footage of Saddam Hussein's hanging. Cowan's film starts as an indictment of TV-news sensationalism, leading with a parent's nightmare: In 2006, the director, a Salt Lake City TV reporter, was paged to the scene of a child's accidental death—only to recognize the heartbreakingly familiar address. Grief-stricken, Cowan decided to honor his son's memory by founding a Kenyan village school. The director's noble intentions and good deeds cannot be faulted, but his insistence on telling the entire story first-person, often on camera, sometimes edges queasily close to narcissism—especially when he leads a guided tour of a compound filled with children's corpses. Cowan will attend. JIM RIDLEY
* PRODIGAL SONS
(4:45 p.m.; also 1:15 p.m. April 20)
Kimberly Reed, a magazine editor, goes home to Helena, Mont., for her 20-year high-school reunion and a fence-mending mission with her resentful adopted brother Marc. I'd tell you what follows, but that would ruin one of the chief pleasures of Reed's astounding family memoir—that of never having a clue what might come next. The twists and turns of her story, from gender bending to ancestral history, are flabbergasting but never exploitative: instead of a Tarnation-style look-at-me geekshow, she uses her candid, sometimes bruising footage with scrupulous concern for all, treating everyone as people first and material second. Still, I'd love to be at every screening the moment we learn who Marc's grandparents are. (The title font is a clue.) Reed will attend, in what should be the Q&A of the festival. JIM RIDLEY
* THAT EVENING SUN
(6 p.m.; also 12:15 p.m. April 19)
Give Hal Holbrook a part, no matter how sketchy, and he comes back with a person—a fleshed-out human being with a history written in his craggy face. As Abner Meecham, a retired farmer who escapes a nursing home only to find his homestead has been handed off to a despised ne'er-do-well, Holbrook endows the character with flinty defiance, a bowlegged stance, and a calculating stare that makes his battle of wills with the land's new tenant seem seriously mismatched. Adapted by writer-director Scott Teems from a William Gay short story, the movie's path is evident early on, but the actors are full of surprises—including co-producer Ray McKinnon, unrecognizable as the star of last year's genial NaFF hit Randy and the Mob, who's a wary, slow-burning wonder as Abner's nemesis. And the movie's a portfolio piece for Tennessee location shooting. Holbrook, McKinnon, co-star/producer Walton Goggins and Teems will attend. JIM RIDLEY
* AFTERSCHOOL
(7 p.m.; also 1:30 p.m. April 20)
Antonio Campos' shockingly assured debut evokes high-school life in the era of surveillance culture, when all feeling and interaction are held at a remove by lenses, real or intuited. The setting is a prep school where extracurricular activities include Internet porn and drugs; the hero, Robert (Ezra Miller), numbly circles from computer to class to cafeteria like a disembodied eye—until a school tragedy gives him a new kind of multimedia project. The 24-year-old writer-director palms off the thinness of his characterizations as an indictment of YouTube-age alienation—a detective named for Antonioni's L'Eclisse gives the game away—but his long-take widescreen compositions display a formal rigor some directors never develop in a lifetime. The deliberately skewed, partially obscured framing, worthy of Michael Haneke, always keeps us aware of the camera as an obstacle to human interaction—as fitting a metaphor for the Aughts as anyone's devised. Campos will attend. JIM RIDLEY
* PRINCE OF BROADWAY
(7:30 p.m.; also 1:15 p.m. April 21)
After this and his 2004 NaFF award-winner Take Out, writer-director Sean Baker belongs on anyone's radar of the most promising indie filmmakers to emerge this decade. Baker's protagonist Lucky (the appealing Prince Adu), an immigrant from Ghana working a knock-off clothing hustle in the New York garment district, becomes the unwilling caretaker for his ex-girlfriend's infant son, while the clothing shop's Armenian proprietor (Karren Karagulian) tries vainly to save his own crumbling marriage. Baker's unaffected handheld shooting seems natural and right, his pungent location work is beyond convincing, and his concern for his characters extends to something as perilous yet mundane as lugging a stroller up icy subway steps. Could this guy be the long-lost Dardenne brother? JIM RIDLEY
NOBLE THINGS
(9 p.m.; also 2:45 p.m. April 19)
Regardless of the film or the budget, veteran actor Michael Parks has never phoned in a part in his life. From the moment he walks on as a backwoods sheriff and dominates a group of joyriding hooligans without raising his voice, it's clear he deserves his top billing. Less clear is whether the movie deserves him: it's an OK but unevenly acted, increasingly far-fetched melodrama about a wayward honky-tonk hopeful (co-writer/producer/director Brett Moses) who comes home to face the music and his sheriff dad's imminent death. The cast includes Ryan Hurst, Ron Canada, Dominique "Lolita" Swain, and country singer Lee Ann Womack, who looks perpetually startled playing a deputy. Parks, Womack and Moses will attend. JIM RIDLEY
SAUNA
(10 p.m.)
Remember Severed Ways, last year's NaFF selection about Norsemen tromping through upstate New York—I mean, the medieval New World? Here's a more accomplished yet even murkier slab of Scandinavian lore, set in the 16th century after war between Russia and Sweden. Dispatched to mark the new border, studious Knut (Tommi Eronen) and warlike brother Erik (Ville Virtanen) have a deadly encounter with a Russian sympathizer and his daughter. Their travels carry them to a town besieged by a mysterious swamp, hellish visions and a 2001 monolith of a sweatbox with mind-bending powers. Director Antti-Jussi Attila (The Jade Warrior) creates a bleak, unrelenting mood of wintry foreboding, but the sub-Tarkovsky mysticism gets more diffuse and pretentious the longer the movie stays near that swamp. In Finnish and Russian with subtitles. JIM RIDLEY
RIP: A REMIX MANIFESTO
(10 p.m.; also 1:30 p.m. April 20)
Apparently there's been some controversy around copyright, file sharing and the Internet? Brett Gaylor's fleet, clever piece of agitprop won't likely change Lars Ulrich (shown acting like a total douche on Charlie Rose) into a cheerleader for BitTorrents. Nevertheless, Gaylor's historicized perspective on copyright law and rabble-rousing cadence are engaging (if a bit hipsterish). The film spends entirely too much time with mash-up auteur Greg Gillis, a.k.a. Girl Talk—a pointless Paris Hilton cameo is especially fanboy-indulgent—and perhaps not enough with Creative Commons founder Lawrence Lessig. But when Gillis' day job in biotech serves as the pivot point for the argument that intellectual property laws hamper progress in medicine as well as music, it's an ace maneuver. STEVE HARUCH
Sunday, 19th
* TRYING TO GET GOOD: THE JAZZ ODYSSEY OF JACK SHELDON
(2:30 p.m.; also 8:30 April 20)
Even if legendary jazz trumpeter Jack Sheldon's name doesn't ring a bell, you'd likely either recognize him as the dirty-minded bandleader from The Merv Griffin Show or, better still, as the voice of Schoolhouse Rock! (He's just the Bill, yes, he's only the Bill.) He's led a life so peppered with tragedy that lesser artists would have given up their instrument—and yet Sheldon continues lessons to this day, as this poignant and captivating account makes clear. With interviews from Clint Eastwood, Billy Crystal, James Baker and more, filmmakers Penny Peyser and Doug McIntyre paint a heartrending portrait of this painfully humble jazz cat that showcases both his remarkable talent and his childlike zest. Peyser and McIntyre will attend. D. PATRICK RODGERS
CRUDE
(4:30 p.m.)
After three years trapped with Metallica's dueling egos for 2004's Some Kind of Monster, Joe Berlinger finds a more hospitable climate: the Amazon jungle. At issue: Who dumped 18 billion gallons of habitat-destroying, cancer-causing crude, in one of the environmental calamities of the century? Working without longtime directing partner Bruce Sinofsky, Berlinger taps into the 13-year David-v.-Goliath legal battle between Pablo Fajardo, the charismatic former field worker turned lawyer representing 30,000 indigenous Ecuadorians, and the unlimited resources of worldwide conglom Chevron. What bubbles up is an exhaustive look at 21st century justice, if incomplete—as $27 billion lawsuits dubbed the "Amazon Chernobyl" tend to be. Berlinger will attend. CALEB HANNAN
* JOHNNY CASH AT FOLSOM PRISON
(5 p.m.; also 3:45 p.m. April 20)
Bestor Cram's superb documentary about Johnny Cash's groundbreaking performance at a California prison provides a wealth of fascinating interviews and background information that may surprise even dedicated Cashophiles. Cram worked as a cinematographer for Frontline and American Experience, and it shows in his inventive use of stills, contact sheets and flash animation, resulting in a film that is exceptionally compelling visually (particularly given the lack of film footage). Fleshed out with ominous shots of the prison today and backstories of some of the inmates—including the moving story of Glen Sherley, who wrote a song that Cash performed at Folsom—the film is poignant, haunting...and a sure NaFF hit. Cram will attend. JACK SILVERMAN
TRUE ADOLESCENTS
(5 p.m.; also 4:30 p.m. April 23)
Like Judd Apatow without the budget, director Craig Johnson delivers indie's answer to the Peter Pan-leaves-Neverneverland comedy. Mark Duplass (Baghead, Humpday) plays Sam, the Cusack-styled Seattle juvenadult whose band is, like, one really sweet demo away from making it. Simultaneously dumped and evicted, he ends up chaperoning a nephew's camping trip in exchange for a bed at Aunt Sharon's (Frozen River Oscar nominee Melissa Leo). Despite one particularly large untied loose end and an overlong mid-movie search sequence, Adolescents shines thanks to man-boy Duplass, an honors graduate of the Paul Rudd School for Charming Slackers. Johnson and producers Thomas Woodlow and Stu Pollard will attend. CALEB HANNAN
HOUSE OF NUMBERS
(5 p.m.; also 1 p.m. April 23)
Already gaining traction on sympathetic Internet sites, Nashville filmmaker Brent W. Leung's documentary examines the controversial belief among a segment of scientists that the HIV virus is not the cause of AIDS, if indeed it exists. That belief (known as AIDS denialism) is widely discredited, and Leung's framing of the doc as a wide-eyed inquiry takes on a faux-naive tone that sounds intended to camouflage an agenda. But he's done a staggering number of interviews, with opponents (including HIV co-discoverer Robert Gallo) as well as advocates (such as lightning-rod biologist Peter Duesberg), and he musters the footage (handsomely shot by Pouria Montazeri) to make troubling arguments that at the very least deserve an equally thorough rebuttal. Leung will attend, as will a supporter of the film, veteran producer/executive Jake Eberts (Dances With Wolves, Driving Miss Daisy). JIM RIDLEY
ASK NOT
(6:45 p.m.; also 5 p.m. April 20)
Putting a face on those affected by the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy, Johnny Symons' documentary focuses on three different factions. One is the Call to Duty Tour, a group of military personnel who represent the more than 12,000 soldiers who have been discharged as a result (some of whom possessed language skills critical to current operations). Another group is Soulforce's Right to Serve Campaign, highly qualified gay candidates who protest their inability to serve, even as recruitment standards are being lowered. The final perspective comes from a closeted soldier on a mission in Iraq, where he lives with the fear of being in harm's way and the fear of being outed. Symons' film is better as reporting than cinema, but no less necessary for it. BRENT ROLEN
* LAKE TAHOE
(7:30 p.m.)
With its long static shots intercut with brief blackouts, and deadpan actors adrift in a sea of ennui, Fernando Eimbcke's Lake Tahoe clearly owes a debt to Jim Jarmusch's groundbreaking Stranger Than Paradise. But while Jarmusch viewed his hipster-slacker protagonists with amused ironic distance, Eimbcke imbues his characters with a compassion and depth that belie their stone-faced exteriors. The arty ambitions laid out by Lake Tahoe's opening scenes only serve to make the film's creeping emotional complexity more affecting—a dry, offbeat comedy slowly morphs into a poignant story about three family members struggling to cope with tragic loss in very different ways. Diego Cataño, who co-starred in Eimbcke's well-received 2005 film Duck Season, is terrific as the shy, awkward teenager at the center of events, and he's backed by a superb supporting cast, particularly Daniela Valentine as the love interest. In Spanish with subtitles. JACK SILVERMAN
Monday, 20th
* ADAM RESURRECTED
(6 p.m.)
The torturer's greatest art, so it is said, is to make his victims go on torturing themselves—for life, if possible. That certainly seems the fate of Adam Stein (Jeff Goldblum), a Jewish comedian in prewar Berlin, who survives a concentration camp only by becoming the literal pet of the camp's commandant (Willem Dafoe). These memories torment Adam in 1961, when he is the star patient at a special mental hospital for Holocaust survivors. Director Paul Schrader and screenwriter Noah Stollman, adapting Israeli author Yoram Kaniuk's 1968 novel, establish a structure highly akin to Fellini's 8 1/2: The hero "takes a cure" while memories, dreams and reflections (and several complicated women) relentlessly crowd him. Goldblum is ideally, even blazingly suited to such a role, and his scenes with Dafoe are painful in the best sense. One cannot recommend this film strongly enough. Sponsored by the Nashville Jewish Film Festival. F.X. FEENEY
NO BOUNDARIES
(7 p.m.)
Jake Willing and Violet Mendoza's romantic drama about the struggles of Isabela (Dani Garza), an illegal South American immigrant in Philadelphia trying to earn money to send home for her mother's medical care, is so sincere and well-intentioned that pointing out its many flaws feels a bit like shooting Bambi. But amateurish acting, poor production values, illogical plot twists and a cliché-riddled script, not to mention Isabela's contrived love affair with an ICE agent (Mark McGraw, half-brother of Tim McGraw), hamstring No Boundaries from start to end—despite (or perhaps because of) the filmmakers' noble motivations. Willing, Mendoza, McGraw and Garza will attend. JACK SILVERMAN
INVISIBLE GIRLFRIEND
(8:30 p.m.; also 5 p.m. April 22)
A gorgeously shot, quirky film from David Redmon and Ashley Sabin about a bipolar, paranoid schizophrenic named Charles (introduced in their previous doc Kamp Katrina) who is convinced his invisible girlfriend is Joan of Arc. The film follows Charles on a 400-mile bike ride to New Orleans to find Joanie's real-world incarnation—a bartender pen pal named Dee Dee. Charles is razor-sharp, witty and hyperaware of the nuances of his illness, and the real charm of the film is the slew of genu-wine marble-mouthed Southerners he chats up along the way—all amidst dreamily electric rural snapshots and surreal ghostlike images of dusk-time travel. The line here between fiction and documentary is blurry, though—at one point, Charles even accuses the filmmakers of purposely busting his bike to create drama. By the film's ending, we're unsure if it's Charles being set up—or us. TRACY MOORE
* BIG RIVER MAN
(8:30 p.m.; also 5:30 p.m. April 21)
Martin Strel is the Babe Ruth of endurance swimming—a barrel-gutted, beer-loving Slovenian beloved by children and the international press for his Herculean feats, e.g., swimming the length of the Mississippi to spotlight river pollution. John Meringouin's arresting documentary portrays the 52-year-old Strel initially as a lovable eccentric, providing a hilarious clip reel of his various pastimes (drunk driving) and side gigs (Slovenian action movies!). By the end of his quest to swim the 3,375 miles of the Amazon in 66 days, though, he's close to becoming one of Werner Herzog's quixotic madmen—driven to the brink by pitiless nature, hard living and the limits of his body. Photographed in part by Nashville filmmaker James Clauer, scored by Kevin Ragsdale and co-produced by his brother Rich, the movie has the nerve to ditch its ain't-life-cute tone for something darker and less crowd-pleasing. Maringouin, Clauer, the Ragsdales and co-producer Molly Lynch will attend. JIM RIDLEY
* NOT QUITE HOLLYWOOD
(10 p.m.)
Call this a two-hour film version of guest star Quentin Tarantino's NetFlix queue (another one?) and you're not off base. But this salute to the Australian exploitation cinema of the 1970s and '80s—a delirious assemblage of car stunts, exploding heads and extravagant T&A, edited into an orgiastic eruption to rival the ending of The Fury—may be the best cult-movie documentary ever made. Thank editor-director Mark Hartley, who expertly culls dozens of talking-head interviews (from Jamie Lee Curtis and Dennis Hopper to directors Richard Franklin and Brian Trenchard-Smith) for telling anecdotes and illuminating detail. And oh, the clips: Turkey Shoot, Stunt Rock, Mad Max, even BMX Bandits—in which the teenage Nicole Kidman's superstardom already looms as a sure thing. JIM RIDLEY
Tuesday, 21st
* GARBAGE DREAMS
(6:45 p.m.)
Egyptian-American filmmaker Mai Iskander's documentary focuses on the plight of the Zaballeen, Cairo's underclass of indigenous garbage workers, who for 150 years have been picking up trash from people's homes and taking it back to their villages for sustenance. The movie follows Osama, Adham and Nabil, three teenage boys in Cairo's largest Zaballeen village, Mokattam, a city literally filled with garbage. Buoyed by a deep sense of faith and dignity, the boys seem at peace with the cards life has dealt them. But that existence is now threatened by globalization, as the government has begun outsourcing much of its waste disposal work to private European contractors. The travails of the 60,000 Zaballeen are compelling enough to carry the film, but Iskander digs deeply into the boys' psyches, finding ultimately a universal tale about the perils of early manhood. Iskander will attend. JACK SILVERMAN
THE CEREMONY
(10 p.m.; also 4 p.m. April 22)
Buff psychology grad living in sweet pad Googles Satan, and the devil turns out to be one tricky prankster in James Palmer's slow, ambitious thriller, which ultimately trades style for substance. After finding a dusty occult book called The Ceremony in his roommate's bedroom—surrounded by a circle of candles, of course—Eric Peterson realizes he's found the perfect case study to secure that coveted Korean gig he's just been offered. After he recites a few of its Latin passages out loud, the movie descends into a Poltergeist-y nightmare of flying dishes, shadowy stalkers and hallucinations. The film is elegantly shot and sparsely scored for suspense—but nearly an hour passes before Peterson's shadowy intruder makes contact. Does evil usually take so long to muster its malevolent forces? TRACY MOORE
Wednesday, 22nd
CRIPS AND BLOODS: MADE IN AMERICA
(6 p.m.)
Why is there so much violence in South L.A.? What are the historical roots of the Bloods and Crips? Stacy Peralta's documentary employs hip-hop beats and music-vid aesthetics (quick edits, slick cinematography, artful use of still photography) to answer those twined questions. With narration by Forest Whitaker, Peralta (Dogtown and Z-Boys) turns his cameras on former and current gang members who outline the origins of gangs, their evolution, and the American government's hand in turning Bloods and Crips from community activists into community scourge. Peralta does an admirable job cramming tons of history and insight into his reportage. But the film's glaring failure to adequately address the role of economic policies and job loss underscores his real-life remove from his subject. ERNEST HARDY
AN UNLIKELY WEAPON
(6:30 p.m.; also 2 p.m. April 23)
AP Photo hall-of-famer Eddie Adams, who died in 2004, is a textbook immortal for one Pulitzer frame: his snap of South Vietnamese General Nguyen Ngoc Loan's point-blank execution of a Viet Cong captive. Director Susan Morgan Cooper's tribute to Adams embellishes on original interview footage of the man, seen here perambulating near his East Village studio. Adams comes across as a professional, self-effacing, no-B.S. guy; the shame is that there isn't quite enough of his bracing candor to fill out a film. Infinitely more interesting than antiwar platitudes from the likes of Morley Safer is watching Adams negotiate with his own conscience—and an empathy for cut losses that bypasses political righteousness. Director Susan Morgan Cooper and composer Kyle Eastwood will attend. NICK PINKERTON
AMERICA'S LOST BAND
(9 p.m.; also 5 p.m. April 23)
Better known as the opening act on The Beatles' last U.S. tour than for their own singles and LPs, Boston's The Remains are practically the definition of a cult band: somewhat heralded at the time, but lionized after the fact. Michael Stich's documentary catches up with frontman Barry Tashian, bassist Vern Miller, drummer Chip Damiani and keyboardist Bill Briggs on the cusp of a Los Angeles reunion show, where the years fall away as the now middle-aged players reconnect with their garage-band mojo. You may not come away convinced they were rock's great missing link, but you can definitely glimpse an alternate universe where they rule the hit parade while, say, The Hollies slink away into the shadows. The band members will attend. JIM RIDLEY
* BIG MAN JAPAN
(10 p.m.)
Japanese TV comic Hitoshi Matsumoto, the writer, director and star of this loony satire, has enough faith in his warped premise to spend almost a half-hour evoking the tedium of earnest slice-of-life documentaries. His disheveled hero, Daisotou, gripes about his hours, misses his daughter and endures the scorn of his countrymen. Just at the point where you're losing patience with the deadpan put-on, the hero's job is disclosed. Suffice it to say that the makers of Hancock must have seen this, as surely as Matsumoto apparently absorbed every zipper-suited monster to emerge from the Japanese cinema. I confess that the timing and broad surrealism of much Japanese comedy often leaves me scratching my head, but this audacious allegory of Japan's conflicted feelings about its pop-culture exports, political alliances and international standing has big laughs—almost as big as one skyscraper-sized foe's rubber-band arms. In Japanese with subtitles. JIM RIDLEY
Thursday, 23rd
* WE LIVE IN PUBLIC
(6:30 p.m.)
NaFF saves one of its most provocative films for last with Ondi Timoner's disturbing, Sundance-winning documentary—one of several NaFF selections this year (including Afterschool and The Other Side of the Lens) that sees America as essentially De Palma Nation, land of omniscient surveillance and passive, ethically untroubled voyeurism. Not straying far from the cult indoctrination in her recent doc Join Us (or the celeb manufacture of her popular DiG!), Timoner follows Josh Harris, one of those Internet "visionaries" living on borrowed time in the heady '90s. Using his millions, Harris created an online art project where participants (including the director) lived without privacy, eating, screwing and shitting under 24-hour scrutiny in a fortified complex of camera-equipped pods. It started as the Warhol Factory and ended as the Stanford prison experiment—topped only in grotesque hubris when Harris decided to subject himself and his new love to the same focus. It makes a fitting closing-night feature—an exhortation to lay off watching for a while. Timoner will attend. JIM RIDLEY
