Today’s DVD donation? The “Jesus Kid” comes to Oviedo

I am writing the review of this Brazilian satire shortly, but suffice it to say, it’s a hoot. A riff on politics, writers and writing and a movie maker who insists on getting this nom de plumed hack who writes paperback Westerns under the name Paul Gentleman to become his “Barton Fink.”

Eugenio, our 50something novelist, has been threatened by the Bolsinaro regime for being blasphemous — his novels always feature the amoral gunfighter, The Jesus Kid. That same regime is willing to resort to violence to get Eugenio to write the president’s biography.

Paranoid, hallucinatory, subtitled fun. I hope the residents of Seminole County Florida are ready for it!

MovieNation, spreading international cinema to the southeast, one DVD, one library at a time.

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Movie Preview: Rob Zombie’s take on “The Munsters”

Talk about a trailer that screams “Svengoolie,” “Elvira” and “Remember how much his ‘Halloween’ sucked?”

September.

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Documentary Review: Courtney Barnett invites us on tour, into her “Anonymous Club”

Australian “slacker rock” star Courtney Barnett and her longtime music video collaborator Danny Cohen team up for a Courtney-and-nothing-but documentary, “Anonymous Club.” It’s not so much an invitation into her world as a peek at it from an almost safe, emotionally-muted distance.

She shows us something of her process, but little of “the Real Courtney” comes through as she and Cohen keep things at a personal arm’s length, if not an emotional one.

Barnett talks about her “feeling sad days,” which produce such self-deprecating singles as “Depreston,” “Anonymous Club,” “Pedestrian at Best” and “Nameless Faceless.” This raw confessional style is her brand. She’s noticed that people “never look up,” they’re always staring at the ground or ahead, or at their cell phones.

“Well time is money and money is no man’s friend. And all eyes on the pavement, I’m not gonna touch ya don’t worry so much about it.”

Cohen gives her a recorder to make an audio diary, where she talks about what she’s doing, the tour she’s on, often just before bedtime. She reads comments from her blog, where she invites fans to talk about rough emotional times they’re going through. And she reads one suggestion about how she should never do another interview again.

It’s only when we see her interviewed — awkward, bored and boring, evading faux complex questions and doing it in the same flat voice (“deadpan,” her fan-critics call it) we hear her sing in that we get it. She’s pretty bad at this part of the career-making exposure.

There are little glimpses of her personal life (she’s gay) and lots of short cuts from her concerts, large venues and small, sing-alongs with fans and one or two actual interactions with them.

There’s little about that screams “rock star,” with her unruly Chrissie Hynde mop and obscure, Ani DiFranco-meets-Chrissie songs-as-therapy songbook. I dare say she could walk most city streets and not earn a second glance — no hint of glam to her.

Honestly, I didn’t get enough of the music and the “process” — picking out tunes to go from long, closely-typed pages of lyrics and phrases in the studio — to come to a conclusion about her as an artist, other than the voice is nothing special squared.

The film’s aesthetic mistake is in limiting the movie just to her, denying us any vocal or visual variety, not letting the folks who made her an AIR (Australian Independent Records) awards maintstay, onetime Grammy nominee and global touring hit tell us why she’s special.

Kurt Vile is her fellow “slacker rock” star and has written for her and performed with her. She doesn’t need his validation, but one monotonous voice makes for a monotonous movie.

At one point, she covers “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” — an apt choice, considering her self-confessed malaise — so plaintively and emotionally flat I almost cried.

One gets a hint that maybe her inspiring backstory — a ballerina’s daughter, self-produced and distributed debut LP (five years before a “Best New Artist” Grammy nod), “born in Sydney, raised in Hobart (Tasmania), based in Melbourne” rise to stardom — makes better copy than hard analysis of why the work speaks to so many.

The audio diary is something of a non-starter, in which Barnett sounds weary, references “Nico, the singer” and suggests “I was an EMO kid before I knew what “EMO” was,” as if we hadn’t figured that out.

All of which circles round to my original point. “Anonymous Club” isn’t an invitation. Don’t know the lyrics? Kind of hard to make them out. Underwhelmed by this guitar snippet or that one? Well, she does like the label “slacker garage rock.”

Leave this one to the fans.

Rating: unrated

Cast: Courtney Barnett

Credits: Scripted and directed by Danny Cohen. An Oscilloscope Laboratories release.

Running time: 1:23

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Movie Preview: “Ooo-Woo here she comes, she’s a ‘Maneater'”

Great White? Maybe a she, maybe a he.

Aug. 26, “Maneater” makes chum out of a lot of young swimmers.

Great locations. Australia? Just beautiful. Except for the blood, of course.

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Movie Review: A Marriage takes maybe its final turn, “The Wheel”

At certain points, relationships can develop their own momentum, careening headlong towards affirmation or collapse. And heaven help anybody trying to stall the inevitable, put the brakes on or turn “The Wheel.”

Albee and Walker are hurtling towards the abyss when we meet them in Steve Pink and screenwriter Trent Aktinson’s intimate indie dramedy. Or rather she is. Walker (Taylor Gray) is grasping at straws, dragging Albee (Amber Midthunder) out for a romantic weekend getaway at an AirBnB. Albee is resigned to “this sh—y thing” she’s agreed to do, and she never lets him or us forget it.

Walker has this plan, consult a self-help book he picked up for little or nothing — “Seven Questions to Save Your Marriage.” They’ll spend a weekend, “four questions today, three on Sunday,” and sort things out.

Question one? “What was the first thing that drew you to me?”

They’re very young, their hostess Carly (Bethany Anne Lind) notices. And yet they’ve been married eight years.

“We were 16,” Walker blurts. “It was Texas.”

Maybe they’ll hit that Ferris wheel they drove by on the way up, Albee tells Carly, “if we’re not divorced.”

They’re both given to blurting.

“The Wheel” is about that marriage about to break up, and co-owners Carly and Ben (Nelson Lee), who are about to marry, trying to intervene. Well, she wants to intervene. He’s picked up on toxic Albee acting like “a monster.”

“Maybe they’re not supposed to be together,” he reasons. “She doesn’t need help. She needs an exorcist!”

“Bad relationships are contagious,” he adds as a warning.

Over the course of the weekend, both couples will be tested. Revelations will explain characters — some more than others — the marriage and the desperate way it began. And we watch and shake our heads and wonder if this plunge over a cliff can be averted, or even should be.

The intimacy of this movie seems to raise the personal stakes among the four. Aussie TV writer Atkinson makes up our minds for us about this character or that one, and then upends those formed opinions.

Midthunder (TV’s “Roswell”), affecting a sort of cruel-cloying Aubrey Plaza vibe, is perfectly believable as a 24 year-old aspiring actress out to sabotage this marriage, come hell or high water. Gray (“Walt Before Mickey”) comes off as that all-in very young guy who can’t imagine life without Albee, mainly because he has no perspective.

Prospects don’t look good, and seeing the waves Albee makes in the about-to-marry couple, we don’t dare hope for any sort of happy ending for “The Wheel.” With this cleverly unassuming script, anything could happen, no matter where the momentum is taking them and us.

Rating: unrated, profanity

Cast: Amber Midthunder, Taylor Gray, Bethany Anne Lind and Nelson Lee.

Credits: Directed by Steve Pink, scripted by Trent Atkinson. A Quiver release.

Running time: 1:23

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Movie Preview: A “transitioning” rom-com from Billy Porter, “Anything’s Possible”

“He’s only dating you for the ‘WOKE’ points!”

Fighting words in this Billy Porter (TV’s “Pose”) art school romance, with one character transitioning. July 22 on Amazon.

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Netflixable? A sober-minded memoir of Israeli Independence — “Image of Victory”

National foundation myths are dearly held, but the more recent the “foundation,” the trickier it is to get a myth out of the cold hard facts.

On its surface, “Image of Victory” is a piece of Israeli agitprop, a triumphalist/martyred take on one corner of the first Arab-Israeli War, the one fought when Israel declared its independence as a “Jewish state” in 1948.

But in framing its story within an Egyptian journalist’s memory of the battle for the coastal Nitzanim kibbutz, writer-director Avi Nesher (“The Matchmaker”) pays just enough lip service to the opposing points of view about this conflict to make it interesting.

Israeli actor Amir Khoury, who played a terrorist in “Seven Days in Entebbe,” is Hassanni, an aged Egyptian journalist embittered at the news of the Camp David Accords, furious that his president, Anwar Sadat, has signed a treaty with “the enemy.”

Hassani thinks back to the decades of strife and slaughter, the lives lost “in vain.” Oddly enough, it’s a defiant Israeli Jew from that kibbutz battle he covered that sticks in his mind.

“It’s her I cannot forget.”

Back in 1948, Hassani was summoned to a new gig, as the reporter sent along with a cameraman to film newsreels for Egyptian cinemas. A hardcase producer wants him on the ground, covering the strife between the new kibbutz (Israeli communal settlement) and the neighboring Palestinian village of Hamama, many of whose poor farmers lost their land when the landlord sold it to well-financed Jewish settlers.

With Cairo street agitators preaching (in Arabic) that “These foreigners colonized our sacred land in order to expel (our) brothers,” and raging at Egypt’s playboy King Faruk’s impotent reaction to the mass Jewish migration to Palestine, this is the story of the hour.

Hassani and his photographer embed in the village, watching the locals, with a little training from a professional soldier, undertake sniper attacks on settlers planting orchards.

Platoons of Jewish convicts were brought in as soldiers to help protect Nitzanim.

The film limits its depictions of the Egyptian and Palestinian Arab point of view to Hassani having to learn to toe the propaganda line, universal dismay at Faruk and annoyance by the local fighters at being filmed — in “our humiliations” and even possible “triumph.”

That’s why “Image of Victory” is an ironic title. Hassani may have visions of Frank Capra’s “Why We Fight” documentaries, humanizing conflict with these films, and bucking up Egyptian morale. Events and censorship might not allow that.

Most of the movie is about life inside that kibbutz, the toughness of the new or newish settlers, some with concentration camp numbers tattooed on their arms. None is tougher than the one Hassani “cannot forget.”

Mira (former child actress Joy Rieger of “The End of Love”) is an earthy true believer of the kibbutz “way,” the mother of a small boy (who sleeps in the communal “children’s barracks”) who has no more use for the boy’s father.

If Mira takes a shine to the new army brigade captain (Tom Avni), her less butch not-quite-ex had best just step aside.

We hear the chatter of many languages, not just Hebrew, as new settlers come from all over Europe and engage in group sing-alongs, communal swims at the beach, bickering over the group showerhouse, gathering around the radio to hear Israel declare its independence at the end of the British Palestine mandate.

There’s even lip service paid to the touchiest subject at hand, then and now — land and land-ownership and the intentional displacement and violence it brings — in one of the communal (some are communists, many are socialists) debates.

“All lands in the world used to belong to someone else,” a political commissar huffs. “When we crawled out of the crematoria chimneys,” he fumes, “we paid the landlord good money” and that settles that.

Yes, that’s glib, and I was reminded of the shock I had watching a documentary about Israel’s founding a while back, with British officials expressing concern in correspondence — in 1919 — of Jewish migration and settlement strategy that seemed like “apartheid.” No, former President Jimmy Carter wasn’t the first to label the efforts of the “monoethnic state” of Israel to separate, sequester and disenfranchise Palestine’s Arabic majority that way. It’s been the plan from the start.

The combat sequences are straightforward and well-handled, with the settlers having the upper hand with a machine gun, mines and professional soldiers (and ex-convicts), then the Arabs gaining an artillery battery, with the climax a final assault that gives Hassani his memory “I cannot forget.”

Nesher can be praised for at least attempting to show two views of that fateful founding back in 1948. This isn’t “Exodus” or “Cast a Giant Shadow,” Hollywood’s celebrations of Israeli statehood and the blood that was spilled to gain it.

But I dare say this lopsided, somewhat factual take on Israel’s founding myth won’t show up on most Middle Eastern streaming services. Even at its “fairest,” this “Image of Victory” is always viewed through Israeli Haganah binoculars.

Rating: TV-MA, violence, nudity

Cast: Joy Rieger, Amir Khoury, Eliana Tidhar, Tom Avni, Meshi Kleinstein, Ala Dakka,

Credits: Written and directed by Avi Nesher, based on a true story. A Netflix release.

Running time: 2:08

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Movie Preview: Oscar winner Olivia Colman takes an accidental Irish “Joyride”

You had me at “Irish.” And Olivia Colman. And “Joyriding.”

This has some sort of regional distributor for that corner of Europe, no US one listed yet. They don’t even have Euro release dates.

But again, Olivia Colman, Oscar winner, Irish and “road trip.” Throw in a cute car thief and a wee babe and a ferry ride. Come on, SOMEbody will pick this up in for North America.

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Monty Norman, “Bond Theme” composer, dies at 94

The perfect, timeless tune that outlived Bond villains, Bond films and Bonds

RIP, Monty Norman.

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Movie Preview: Another coming of age story from James Ponsoldt — “Summering”

Four girls find a body, and try to figure out who he is and what they should do about it over one magical/mysterious and “troubling” summer, in which they “come of age.”

NOT a Stephen King take of the “Stand By Me” variety. Not much, anyway.

Hard to get a bead on “Summering” from the trailer, but Ponsoldt is one of my favorite filmmakers, so I’m guessing it’s good.

Aug. 12, limited release.

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