Film Reviews: Angels in the Dust, Hannah Takes the Stairs, Trade

GREAT WORLD OF SOUND See film feature.

HANNAH TAKES THE STAIRS This third feature by the Chicago-based director Joe Swanberg (Kissing on the Mouth, LOL) could be considered the ne plus ultra of the American indie filmmaking movement christened Mumblecore, in which hyper-verbal yet fundamentally inarticulate twenty­somethings — noncommittal in life and in choice of apartment furnishings — engage in copious literal and figurative naval-­gazing while navigating their way through romantic relationships that teeter on the precipice of going the distance or ending that very moment. If you’ve seen Swanberg’s earlier films, or those of Mumblecore doyen Andrew Bujalski (Funny Ha Ha, Mutual Appreciation), you’ll have a reasonable idea of what to expect from Hannah, whose title character (actress/playwright Greta Gerwig) is a gamine writer for some sort of Internet TV series, looking for love and not quite finding it in the arms of three successive suitors (one played by Bujalski and another by The Puffy Chair writer/star Mark Duplass). The rotating boyfriends become more or less indistinguishable from one another as they lie next to Hannah on her Ikea floor mattress — which is, I reckon, more or less the point. It’s Hannah herself who’s the star attraction here, whether going into meltdown mode over the blue towel fuzz that won’t come unstuck from her nipples, or sitting pensively in her bathtub in swimsuit and diving mask. She’s that kind of girl, and Gerwig is a modest (like everything in Mumblecore) revelation in the role, with a lithe, teasing sexuality and a vibrant personality that seems to be darting off in as many directions as her tousled blonde hair. Like most of the men in the film, we would happily follow her anywhere. (Sunset 5) (Scott Foundas)

ITTY BITTY TITTY COMMITTEE Writer-director Jamie Babbit’s follow-up to But I’m a Cheerleader, while flawed and in need of at least one more script overhaul, is smarter, funnier and more accomplished than its predecessor. It’s also refreshingly unapologetic about its far-left politics. Brooding after being dumped by her girlfriend, Anna (Melonie Diaz), who works in a plastic surgeon’s office, stumbles onto the radical-feminist collective C(i)A — Clits in Action — and into a crush on their sexy blond leader. The film wobbles mightily in many spots, uncertain of what tone it’s going for, with the biggest problem being that newly politicized Anna’s dogmatic, undergrad feminist speeches are a little too straightforward in delivery for the satiric spark being sought (and that is desperately needed). Babbit’s biggest accomplishment is in showing how the line between awakened political consciousness and grating self-absorption can so easily be blurred. But that insight often seems accidental, especially when applied to Anna, who often just comes off as a pill. Still, the sly digs at dyke relationship drama, the insightful depiction of the sugar mama/kept girl scenario (with dykon Melanie Mayron as the benefactor), and a very sexy cast (including queer goddess Jenny Shimizu) goes a long way in smoothing over tonal glitches. (Sunset 5) (Ernest Hardy)

THE KINGDOM See film feature

THE OTHER SIDE A horror movie is an ideal Hollywood calling card for a first-time director. One can be made on a shoestring budget — you can mix up your own blood — and, by its nature, the genre offers a budding filmmaker the chance to show visual flair. By that measure, this debut feature by USC graduate Gregg Bishop is a true success. Shot in Athens, Georgia, on a reported budget of $15,000, this unapologetically bloody movie tells of a recent college grad named Sam (Nathan Mobley, excellent) who’s murdered on the very night his girlfriend goes missing. Upon his death, Sam wakes up in hell (literally) but escapes “the Pit” with several other sinners who join him in a search for the missing girl, even as they attempt to elude the three “reapers” the devil has sent to retrieve them. While the acting is uneven (a staple of the genre) and the finale full of clunky exposition, the steady stream of wittily staged action sequences — involving gunfights, sword play, and a black hat that’s forever tumbling in the wind — are pretty terrific. Bishop has chops; someone give this man a meeting. (Showcase) (Chuck Wilson)

RAISING FLAGG In theory, Alan Arkin playing a stubborn codger who holes up in bed and pretends he’s dying should be comic gold. In Raising Flagg, however, this conceit — and the ragtag subplots that support it — is about as funny as a rusty plow. Last year’s Best Supporting Actor Oscar winner plays Flagg Purdy, an Oregon farmer even less believable than his name (Arkin’s fake, cornpone accent further strains credibility). The rest of the likable, accomplished cast — including Austin Pendleton, Glenne Headly, Lauren Holly and Clifton James — appears uncomfortable and stilted, as if directed with a cattle prod. The director, Neal Miller, also co-wrote the script, which is equally awkward, relying on old checkers rivalries, farm irrigation and tired family squabbles for drama — and knee-slappers like “cellulose phones” and sheep-urination jokes for comedy. Even fans of the 1984 PBS–American Playhouse special Miller wrote, A Matter of Principle, which also starred Arkin and Barbara Dana as a rural married couple, will find this slow going. Erich Roland’s HD cinematography is the only element of the film one can honestly enjoy. Roland gives the Oregon settings a bucolic beauty, but his professional camerawork only serves as a reminder of just how bush-league everything else about Raising Flagg really is. (Monica 4-Plex; One Colorado) (James C. Taylor)