Philadelphia Weekly

The New World

Black.Womyn.:Conversations With Lesbians of African Descent

Black.Womyn.:Conversations With Lesbians of African Descent is a talking heads documentary that categorically interviews 49 black lesbian women ("Sexuality & Religion," "Coming Out," etc.). While it's a hella long 90ish minutes for Q&A style, viewers without ADD will hear likable subjects break down the costs of being out-of-the-closet black gay women, a struggle one woman sums up as "the epitome of everything the world does not respect." Though much of it seems like a PSA to those not in the know (like the 101 on lesbian lingo), it's not packaged in a way--strange jarring punctuation and the constant piano tinkling--that would draw in outsiders and those who really, really need to move beyond Spike Lee stereotypes. C (Tara Murtha) Sun., July 20, 4:45pm. Arts Bank. Mon., July 21, 5pm. Prince Music Theater.

In this Canadian dramedy, a smarmy asshole ex-hockey player (Ed's Tom Cavanaugh) becomes considerably less of an asshole (but retains his smarm) after screenwriterly forces conspire to have him look after his partner's sister's kid. This subgenre blows (see also: Three Men and a Baby, Big Daddy, etc.) and Laurie Lynd's film doesn't make it any better by virtue of its progressive family politics. Annoyingly predictable, right down to the moment around the hour mark when this self-impressed comedy suddenly takes a turn for material too dark and serious for it to remotely handle. C- (Matt Prigge) Fri., July 18, 7:15pm and Sun., July 20, 4:45pm. Prince Music Theater.

A triple threat in his Israeli homeland--aging, Palestinian and gay--Ezra Nawi makes for an engaging and interesting subject. Too bad he couldn't attract a slightly sturdier documentarian. Though he starts the film out boasting that even Israel's notorious checkpoint guards "can't stop me from filmmaking," director Nissim Mossek stays devoutly fly-on-the-wall, his camera unblinkingly capturing everything from horrid tragedy, hurled epithets and extended bickering sessions between old friends. It lacks organization. Too often the film feels like home movies--messy but not cinematic. B-(M.P.) Thurs., July 17, 5pm. Arts Bank. Sun., July 20, 2:30pm. Black Box at the Prince Music Theater.

Claphman Junction

Ooh, proper TV actors you might have seen on BBC America. "The Bishop can be a bit of a prick when it comes to poofs." "Waiter, can you bring me a few more of those of those lovely sausages?" We're in London, where just because everybody sounds like they're gay doesn't mean they are. Most of the characters are bourgeois professionals, which isn't technically a crime. But in one scene an in-the-closet TV producer tells a writer that "gay stuff has been done to death." Well, yeah, some gay stories have been told again and again and these intertwining stories are hardly groundbreaking--except where they explore class. That said, Clapham Junction's a lovely bit of filmmaking. Sort of Love Actually with fewer laughs, less schmaltz and tons more man-on-man tongue action. And a bit of gay-bashing. B (Steven Wells) Wed., July 16, 7pm. Prince Music Theater.

Andy Klimpton-Nye's doc Derek Jarman: Life as Art is only four years old, but as the title suggests, Derek is a more intimate valentine to the experimental filmmaker anyway. Directed and written, respectively, by friends and colleagues Isaac Julien (Young Soul Rebels) and Tilda Swinton (who also puts in ample face time), Derek mostly stars Jarman himself, represented by a career-spanning interview done not long before his 1994 death from AIDS-related complications. His accounts make the film seem more straightforward 101 than it should be. A more formless exploration of his life and work would've been not only more useful but more moving. B- (M.P.) Mon., July 21, 7:15pm, Black Box at the Prince Music Theater.

Nate Merritt, played with total vacancy by Paul Preiss, joins the military because he feels pressure from his girlfriend and his mother, who work together at a restaurant that requires turquoise polyester uniforms. Nate lives in a place with wood paneling and a denuded backyard. Other similar details suggest, rather too obviously, that Nate is a Lower-Class White Person Without Hope. When he goes on leave from the Marines, he meets up with a wealthy emo kid whose eyes are so rimmed with liner, they look like they've been tattooed by Bobbi Brown's evil assistant. When Emo Boy wants to know why Nate is in the Marines, he answers, "I always wanted to be a mechanic. But my mom and my fianc�e told me there ain't no future in broken down cars." Now, I understand if there ain't no future in 8-track tapes or daily newspapers. But broken down cars? The rest of the movie's dialogue is equally vapid, which does a disservice to the whole fesitival, considering Dog Tags is a Centerpiece Screening. F (Liz Spikol) Fri., July 19, 7:15pm and Sat., July 20, 5pm. Wilma Theater.

Not to be confused with the 2008 film Dolls where, after "a garage sale turns violent, a mother reluctantly comes to terms with her teenage son's sexuality." Which sounds quite interesting. More interesting than this coming-of-age film from the Czech Republic where "baby-faced dyke Iska, scheming tart Karol�na and rotund, razor-tongued Vendula" go hitchhiking to Holland. Holland being a metaphor for adulthood. Probably. Some cultures make coming-of-age interesting with bizarre rituals, insane quests, crazy dancing and frightening body masks. In the industrialized world we just sort of stumble through it. And then make endless films about it. And these films are invariably touchy-feely and dull. It's a gay chick flick. And I'm a bloke. It needs guns and tanks. Sorry. C (S.W.) Sat., July 19, 4:45pm. Prince Music Theater.

An evening of hot same-sex rumpy-pumpy in a tent causes problems later when three young chums meet up at the San Franscisco Halloween Parade. The atmosphere? It's like a wigwam and a teepee. Two tents for words. This film gives a whole new meaning to the word "camp." Christ, I'm bored. Can you tell? Like most indie flicks that don't involve zombies, there's way too many uninteresting people having dull but meaningful conversations and tastefully shot and presumably symbolism laden shots of people walking on beaches and kinda looking at things meaningfully. Dull is what it is. And slow. And boring. The Lost Coast, it says here, takes inspiration from Antonioni, Truffaut and Godard. And therein lies its problem. Those guys were all shit. C (S.W.) Thurs, July 17, 5pm. Prince Music Theater.

With its made-for-TV quirk, conspicuous camera movements and a score that seems to be comprised of zesty salsa MIDI loops, The New World feels like the Mr. Bean's Holiday of lesbian conception fables. This French fetus and motorcycle film from 2007 looks and sounds about 10 years older than it is. While leads Luis (Natalia Dontcheva) and Marion (Vanessa Larre) are charming enough, the film falters in choosing its hat. Is this a sex comedy or a sudsy melodrama? Neither quite works, and the result is a shallow portrayal of baby blues in a woefully underused Paris. C (Paul F. Montgomery) Wed., July 16, 7:15pm. Arts Bank. Sat., July 19, 12:15pm. Wilma Theater.