BishopAccountability.org
	Documenting the Rest of the Day By J.A. Montalbano Albuquerque Tribune December 10, 2006 http://blogs.scripps.com/albq/film/2006/12/documenting_the_rest_of_the_da.html Let's catch up with the rest of the films we saw on Saturday, as real life took center stage. (On the slate for today, the last day of the Santa Fe Film Festival, we're looking at dramas, as we finally get to spend quality time at the Screen, our favorite venue. On the agenda are: "Family Law," from the Argentine director of "Every Stewardess Goes to Heaven"; "Vocal Parallels," a Russian director's playful dalliance with opera; and the Turkish drama "Climates" to close out the festival. If we have the energy, we'll probably also squeeze in the documentary "Sofia," about a surfer girl in Peru, and/or "Ghost Stories," a series of frightful shorts, including one by the writer of "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.") Read on for "Hand of God," "Sacco and Vanzetti" and "Into Great Silence." Finally saw "Hand of God," the tale of former Albuquerque resident Paul Cultrera's abuse by a priest and the effects on his family. (We previewed it here.) His brother, Joe, made the film, and I got to chat with Joe before the screening. He says it is scheduled to air on PBS' "Frontline" on Jan. 16 (but check KNME's schedule, which often varies from the national slate). The movie did not disappoint. It's a powerful, inventive look at how one family deals with Catholicism. I have two quibbles: (a) Like most films at the fest this year, it could be cut by at least 10 minutes (it runs 97) and (b) I wouldn't tell it in such a chronological fashion. Early on I would hint at a couple of the twists that came late in the process, including the closing of his parents' church in their Italian neighborhood in Salem, Mass. The movie doesn't mention Albuquerque (Paul lived here in the '90s), but it mentions New Mexico, and his former Duke City housemate, Lee, is a powerful life force in the film. "Sacco and Vanzetti," is a slick, sympathetic retelling of the tragic tale of the Italian immigrant anarchists put to death (wrongly, by most accounts) in 1927. What's fascinating is to see survivors with firsthand accounts, including a former neighbor in the U.S. and a niece back in Italy. This film is straight out of the Ken Burns school of filmmaking, which isn't bad in my book. There are powerful dramatic readings of the men's own words by John Turturro as Bartolomeo Vanzetti and Tony Shaloub as Nicola Sacco. The small audience was swept up in this one. I saw only about one-third of the nearly three-hour epic "Into Great Silence," a mostly silent examination of an ancient monastery in the French Alps. This is one of the most beautiful pieces of film you'll ever see. The question is: Can it be sustained over 164 minutes? Well, I don't know. I just sampled the first hour. I sensed some folks getting restless, and a few people did leave (though that doesn't necessarily mean they didn't like it; it's a film fest, and they might have had something else pressing, like I did). And there are only so many shots of sun-dappled concrete hallways one needs in a feature. German writer/director/cinematographer Philip Groening lingers elegantly on scenes (too long, I thought, on the monk shoveling snow) and gives us very personal close-ups and peeks into the private lives of the men. I would have paid money just to see the scene of a very old monk preparing fabric for making robes; the shot of his hands smoothing out the material is breathtakingly beautiful. Congratulations, too, to the audience for its rapt attention. There are no voices in the first 15 minutes of the film (we finally get some chanting). And it's another 10 minutes before someone speaks. The person behind me actually heeded his wife, who whispered to him as the film started that she could hear him crunching his food. He put it away. Enjoy the silence.
Any original material on these pages is copyright © BishopAccountability.org 2004. Reproduce freely with attribution.