9/1/14 (Part Two): Sisters From Another Mother

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action, Amigo, auteur theory, Best of 2013, cinema, crime thriller, Don Harvey, drama, Edward James Olmos, Elizabeth Sung, female friendships, feminism, Film auteurs, film reviews, films, friends, friendship, Go For Sisters, Hilary Barraford, independent films, indie dramas, Jesse Borrego, John Sayles, Kathryn Westergaard, LisaGay Hamilton, Mahershala Ali, McKinley Belcher III, Mexico, missing son, Movies, parole officer, Vanessa Martinez, writer-director, Yolonda Ross

True friendship is a rare beast, indeed. Not the friendships of convenience that the modern age makes so necessary, mind you, but the honest to god, flesh and blood, right in front of your face kind of friendships that last for lifetimes. These are the kinds of friendships for which the cliché “take a bullet” is actually a truth…the kind that blur the line between kin and acquaintance. If we’re lucky, we’ll all have one of those friendships at some point in our lives, although it’s not a given: friendships like this need to be worked at, maintained and that kind of dedication just isn’t for everyone. It’s easy to say that you’ll always be there for someone but much harder to actually deliver on said promise.

In many ways, legendary writer/director John Sayles’ most recent film, Go For Sisters (2013), is a tribute to true friendships of the type described above. It’s also a whip-smart, fast-paced, lean and mean crime thriller but that’s just how Sayles has always done things: from as far back as The Brother From Another Planet (1984), Sayles has mixed social critique and genre conventions to dizzying effect, resulting in some truly unforgettable films. Under the guise of historical dramas, thrillers, police procedurals and sci-fi films, Sayles has managed to comment on everything from race relations and immigration to U.S. colonialism, the sins of the father, corruption and greed. While his body of a work as a writer/director is impressive enough on its own, Sayles has also been something of a writing “gun for hire” in Hollywood, as it were, churning out the scripts for everything from Roger Corman’s original Piranha (1978) to Alligator (1980) and Clan of the Cave Bear (1986). In every sense of the term, John Sayles is a living legend and any new Sayles film is an event worth celebrating: Go For Sisters reminds us that the filmmaker is as relevant today as he was way back in 1979.

The “true friends” in Go For Sisters take the form of Bernice (LisaGay Hamilton) and Fontayne (Yolonda Ross), life-long friends who’ve become separated by the inexorable march of time and change. While they used to be quite the wild pair, Bernice’s current job as a parole officer bespeaks of a rather significant life change. The two reconnect when Bernice ends up being Fontayne’s parole officer: Bernice may have gone the straight and narrow but Fontayne still struggles to escape the cycle of crime and drugs that’s held her down for so many years. At first glance, it seems like these former friends won’t have a lot of common ground to stand on but life, as always, is never that simple.

It turns out that Bernice is having her own problems, namely the disappearance of her wayward military vet son, Rodney (McKinley Belcher III). Since Rodney is a bit of a wild child, himself, Bernice isn’t sure whether her inability to contact him is due to his lifestyle or a genuine problem. When she sees Fontayne again, however, Bernice sees her ticket into the “underworld” via her wayward friend’s illicit connections. While Fontayne is less than thrilled with the prospect of violating her parole nine ways to Sunday, Bernice assures her that it can’t be a violation if her parole officer is sanctioning it. Before long, the pair get a lead and head for Mexico, putting Fontayne into a potentially boiling pot of scalding trouble: if hanging out with known felons is a parole no-no, skipping the country must rank as some sort of hell-no.

Once in Mexico, Bernice and Fontayne team-up with disgraced former police officer-turned bounty hunter Freddy Suarez (Edward James Olmos) and continue their hunt for Rodney, coming ever closer to the truth behind his disappearance. The truth, of course, ends up being even crazier than they imagined and involves illegal Chinese immigrants, a vicious Mexican drug lord and the mysterious, sinister Mother Han (Elizabeth Sung), who just may be pulling the strings behind it all. As Bernice and Fontayne get deeper and deeper into the muck, they rekindle their formerly extinguished friendship and find out the clearest, most important truth of all: when you have real friends, you can overcome any obstacle, fight any foe and win any battle. Bernice and Fontayne may be outgunned, outmanned and out-maneuvered but as long as they have each other, the bad guys just don’t stand a chance.

In an era when women seem to increasingly get the shit end of the stick in both the “real world” and pop culture, it’s not only refreshing but downright necessary to have films like Go For Sisters. Not only are Bernice and Fontayne the central figures of Sayles’ film but they’re stronger than any male character in the film. Even the heroic, steadfast Freddy Suarez is nothing compared to the rock-solid female leads: if anything, Go For Sisters reminds of a less flamboyant, cliche-ridden version of one of Pam Grier’s classic blaxploitation roles. There’s no point in the film where either woman feels like a victim, someone in need of male protection or male guidance: one of the most telling points in the film is the one where Fontayne explains her homosexuality with the dismissive, “boys turn into men…you know how that goes.” If we don’t already, we get a pretty good example via the pairs various interactions throughout the film, with the exception of Edward James Olmos’ pseudo-white knight Suarez.

Far from being a clinical, cold treatise on racial and gender politics, however, Go For Sisters wraps everything in the guise of a cracking-good crime/mystery/thriller. Like his similar Lone Star (1996), Sayles wraps everything around a pretty good mystery: it’s no Chinatown (1974) but there are plenty of satisfying twists and turns, along with some truly kickass action scenes. The bit where Fontayne turns an empty liquor bottle into a “gun” is a classic (“I always carry a Colt .45 with me”) and Bernice projects nothing but fire and grit.

While the filmmaking is typically great (in particular, cinematographer Kathryn Westergaard puts some truly stunning visuals up on the screen, particularly once the action moves south of the border), the acting is a true thing of beauty. LisaGay Hamilton and Yolonda Ross are absolutely perfect as the former/current best-friends: their relationship never feels anything less than completely genuine, including their halting “getting to know you again” time. Anyone who’s ever fallen out with and then reconnected with a dear friend should certainly recognize more than a few beats here. As previously mentioned, Bernice and Fontayne are completely awesome, ass-kicking protagonists, the kind that any film would be proud to host and much credit must be due the flawless performance.

Just as good, for different reasons, is Edward James Olmos’ portrayal of the kindly bounty hunter: Olmos is, without a doubt, one of our most storied actors and there’s something truly cool about seeing him play such an unflappable, badass individual. Like something out of an old spaghetti Western, Olmo’s Freddy Suarez is a polite, well-spoken, barely contained tornado: “You musta been some hot shit behind that badge, Freddy,” Fontayne praises him, at one point. Freddy smiles and replies, “They called me The Terminator” and there’s absolutely no way we don’t believe him.

Ultimately, Go For Sisters is the kind of unflashy, old-fashioned, character-driven film that will probably seem like a museum fossil in this day and age. Tightly written, expertly crafted, beautifully shot, wildly entertaining…pretty much just what you should expect from a John Sayles film. If you’ve always been a fan, Go For Sisters is going to be another jewel in a long, illustrious career. If you’re new to the simple majesty of this master storyteller, strap yourself in and prepare yourself for one hell of an experience. It’s tempting to say that the master’s back but here’s the thing: he never went anywhere in the first place.

1/12/13: Toggling Your Brain – On

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Amigo, Chris Cooper, cinema, DJ Qualls, Film, Garret Dillahunt, independent films, Jim Jarmusch, Joel Torre, John Sayles, Lucas Neff, Philippine-American War, Steven Soderbergh, the Philippines, war films

As the perfect complement to Sunday’s viewing of the brain-dead Butcher Boys, I figured that I would go to the other extreme and watch a John Sayles film. I don’t think I could come up with two more polar opposites if I tried: Amigo definitely helped wash the mold from my brain.

Let’s get one thing straight, right off the bat: they don’t make ’em like John Sayles anymore. When I think of independent film, three names immediately pop into my head: Soderbergh, Jarmusch and Sayles. My first experience with Sayles came in the late ’80s, when I first saw The Brother From Another Planet. I’ll admit: I was hooked from the get-go. Here was a guy who somehow managed to mash together sci-fi, indie and message films into one delicious stew, creating not only a response to Spielberg’s ET (just two short years before The Brother…) but a powerful statement on the immigrant experience in America at that time (and now, to be honest).

After that first film, I devoured as much Sayles as I could get my hands on. The first Sayles’ film I actually got to see in a theater was Lone Star, which is also one of my favorites (perhaps these two things are related?) and I’ve made it a point to see whatever he deigns to release. Due to various outside factors, however, I’ve neglected to see his 2010 release, Amigo, until recently. As always, I only wish that I’d made more of an effort to see this earlier. Ah, well: better late than never, eh?

Set during the Philippine-American War at the beginning of the 1900s, Amigo is the heartbreaking story of what happens when the only available choices are bad ones. A small U.S. army regiment, led by Lt. Compton (Raising Hope’s Garret Dillahunt in an absolutely stunning performance) arrive at a small village in the Philippines, with the intention of occupying it and creating a U.S. garrison. The American soldiers have been getting hammered by Filipino guerrilla fighters and Col. Hardacre (Chris Cooper, so starched that he practically cracks whenever he walks) has charged Lt. Compton with securing the area.

Once there, Compton charges the villages mayor, Rafael, with assisting them in setting up the garrison. Rafael, dubbed “Amigo” due to his answer regarding his name, couldn’t be in a worse position: his brother is actually the leader of the guerrillas, his young son is part of the movement and the guerrillas have pledged to kill anyone who assists the Americans. On the other side, the Americans have pledged to make impossible for anyone who aids the guerrillas. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Rafael marches ever closer to his own oblivion, while his world falls apart around him.

First things first: Amigo looks absolutely gorgeous. Sayles has used his Filipino locations to excellent effect, providing a place that is equal parts paradise and Hell. There are some truly beautiful, long shots in the film, shots that are so composed as to be almost painted. To a man/woman, the acting is top-notch across the board. Particularly impressive (and surprising, at least to me) were the performances by Dillahunt and his Raising Hope co-star Lucas Neff. I don’t recall seeing these two in anything other than their TV show (despite Dillahunt’s impressive resume, I can’t recall him in anything else, including No Country for Old Men), so I had no idea what to expect. Neff has more of a bit part but Dillahunt really shines. Quite frankly, Lt. Compton and Rafael are the beating heart of the film, their performances complimenting each other perfectly.

In fact, it’s Lt. Compton’s journey from disrespectful Yankee to cautious supporter that gives the film some of its most powerful moments. In one key scene, Compton complains to Col. Hardacre that his policies for the villagers are too harsh: “I have to live with these people,” he complains. Hardacre’s response? “No, you have to make war on these people.” By the time the film reaches its terrible, but inevitable, conclusion, Compton is as much a part of the machine as anyone else, powerless to stop its destructive force.

At first, Sayles portrays the American soldiers in such a way as to make them seem almost cartoonishly callow and crude. They have no respect for the Filipino traditions or culture, seeing the natives as just another bit of fauna on the island. For a time, I was a little worried that Sayles would be taking the easy way out, shooting fish in a barrel, as it were. If the U.S. soldiers are just a bunch of obnoxious S.O.B.s, the audience will have no more connection to them than we would the villains in Die Hard. Luckily, Sayles has been doing this for way too long to ever take the easy way out: he knows that, more often than not, evil is just another way of pronouncing bureaucracy and good can be completely dependent on your present situation. Over time, the soldiers (for the most part) warm to the villagers, coming to see them as human beings, not just another extension of the enemy in the jungle. Compton even allows the villagers to throw a festival for their patron saint, much to the chagrin of Col. Hardacre.

If there can be understanding between the soldiers and the villagers,  then, can there also be an end to the armed aggression outside the village walls? Alas, Sayles is also too smart to sugarcoat this: mankind is made to destroy and destroy it shall. By paralleling the activities of the guerrillas in the jungle (including Rafael’s young son) with those of the villagers and American soldiers, Sayles shows us how fundamentally similar these groups really are. They’re each fighting for what they believe to be right and have no problem dying to support it. The big problem: the poor village is caught in the middle, no matter what. Help the Americans and lose your fellow countrymen…help the guerrillas and lose your life…essentially, the villagers are born to lose. Nowhere is this made more clear than the heartbreaking finale, where Sayles shows us that it is possible to both gain and lose everything simultaneously.

Despite how much I enjoyed the film, I do have a few (minor) quibbles with it. I felt that Padre Hidalgo, the captive Spanish priest, was just one mustache twirl away from being a silent-film villain. I realize that Sayles was making a point about the role of the Catholic church in the subjugation of the Philippines but the priest has so little humanity as to be almost a caricature. This same problem is repeated with the character of Col. Hardacre (and isn’t that name just a wee bit precious?), a human-like android whose programming only contains commands for “growl,” “snarl,” “snark” and “yell.” We’re allowed to see a tremendous, if subtle, growth in both Compton and Rafael’s characters, but both Hidalgo and Hardacre are as static as the day is long. It was also disappointing to see Sayles introduce and then drop (relatively quickly) the characters of the two Chinese laborers. For a time, these characters serve as a kind of Greek chorus, commenting on the action around them and giving their own (admittedly skewed)  take on the proceedings. They exit stage left way to early, however, depriving the audience of a singularly unique viewpoint in the film.

Ultimately, however, these are very minor quibbles and really more a matter of my taste than anything else. The individual responsible for so many of my all-time favorite film experiences (the aforementioned Brother from Another Planet and Lone Star, the Return of the Secaucus and Matewan…even Corman’s original Piranha and The Howling, both written by Sayles) has come through once again. One of my favorite quotes from Sayles states that he makes the movies he does because no one else will. In my opinion, there can be no more noble or important reason to make films: may Sayles continue to impress and educate us for as long as we’re willing to listen.