Teethe (Sundance Film Review)

It’s hard to describe how bad this film was. The concept is great: a teenage girl, who runs a purity campaign, discovers that she has teethe in her vagina and begins to enjoy the power that comes with such a gift/curse. In a male dominated culture, it is easy to see the appeal of this film. It is summed up in the opening credits. The credits are a digital image of eggs and sperm swimming around. At key moments the music becomes very intense and several sperm attack one egg. This continually happens until the end the credits when one egg eats three of the sperm. Terms like “nail,” “penetrate,” and “prick” all reference the dominance of male masculinity. This rhetoric subtly works to keep women in subordinate roles. Thus, a film like Teethe becomes a powerful statement against male dominion over sex. It has the potential to reveal the power of women to “eat” men who do not see their sexual partner as an equal.
Alas, the end result was a very poor film. The acting was terrible. The music was overly dramatic. The plotline was weak. The character development was stereotypical at best. The only thing this film could do was make an audience laugh and convulse in the same breath. Three men were castrated and a gynecologist lost four fingers. Teethe was a film that did not know what it wanted to be, and the end result was mediocrity with a double-shot of shock value. Many women after the film laughed about how it redefines the term “chick-flick.” Unfortunately, this remains more true than most people will realize. This film is not a film about “girl-power.” It is a film that exploits girl, thus allowing women to enter the same game that men have been a part of for years. Thus, the same system this film may claim to go up against is actually the same system it is a part of. Thus, Teethe is just a like a “chick-flick” because it allows women to remain in their subordinate roles still playing the same game their supposed male rival is playing.

Banished (Sundance Film Review)

Racism is not a dead issue, and Banished is one of many documentaries that reminds people that it is not. This film focuses on the stories of several black families who try to trace their family roots back to their former family homes before their grandparents and/or great grandparents were run out of certain towns. The families found out that legal records could not justify the current ownership. One man tried to have his relative dug up to be given a proper burial, and upon requesting for the city to cover the burial costs, the city refused and tried to charge the man with stealing from the city.
While there are interesting parts to this documentary, it proves one of the classic flaws in many such films: too preachy. Michael Moore successfully ruined the documentary-director voiceover narration, and this film, like Moore’s, falls prey to the same awkward feel that leaves no room for dialogue. But this film does make incredibly sound points. In the hometown of the main leaders of the KKK, many people try to blame the KKK for creating a high image of racism. But the people do not want to admit that the KKK feels comfortable in this city for a reason. While some may argue that retribution for slavery is a dead issue, this film shows that it is not. The families interviewed in this film are not asking for reparations from slavery time but from 60 years ago. These are easily documented wrongs that only extreme denial can avoid. And the white people of the cities in this film do deny their responsibility.

The Island (Sundance Film Review)

The Island is a telling story about the pain of a saint. The story begins with a young crewmember who is forced to shoot his captain after they are captured by Nazis. The boat is then blown up and the young man is washed ashore near a monastery, where he would spend the rest of his life. The story then takes place when he is much older. People constantly visit him to receive healing. While he is a bit senile and eccentric, he heals everyone who comes to him and tells them what they need to hear. When he is not healing people or moving coal, he spends his time praying for forgiveness.
This is the story of a saint. Many ask questions about why certain people are blessed with such gifts while others are not, and this film does not bother to answer that but reveals the paradox. Many consider this monk crazy, but God chose him to be a healer, prophet, and servant. But for all his transcendent power, he has no peace. He is given this amazing gift, but his religion is so dogmatic that he can only obey and hope that God will see his redemption through his servant hood and grief. Yet there is hope in this film. Could someone evil truly do what God allows this man to do? The point comes through the implications of the story: God exists in people whether they realize he is there or not. This has profound implications for the rest of the world beyond the label “Christians.” I wonder if anyone will agree.

For the Bible Tells me So (Sundance Film Review)

How could a first time director score interviews with Desmond Tutu and Mel White? Few films have been as moving as this one. To here the stories of Christians who can accept homosexuality as something blessed and not something to overcome is rare. Whether, I agree or not is irrelevant because these stories provide hope for people who would otherwise leave the church altogether. This film, by itself, it very bias, but so is the other side of the argument. If people can transcend their biases when watching this film, then they will be able to see a group of people that are still loved by God and, more importantly, can still remain part of the Christian community. Mel White has been a longtime hero of mine, and to hear what he had to say (and to meet him) was so encouraging. God is working through this man’s ability to bring about a more diverse community of God. Anyone should be able to watch this film and see what homosexual people have been mistreated and things must change. And the film is honest in its representation of Christian conservatives—who have caused much pain. I do not know if I believe homosexuality is acceptable or not, but I know that people can remain within the body of Christ in such a state. This documentary offers great insight into a growing trend in Christianity: people reinterpreting the Bible and finding out that they may be wrong and should change their approach to those they considered sinners.

On the Road with Judas (Sundance Film Review)

This is one of those films that takes forever to simply explain. Director J.J. Lask is in the film as himself, an author of the book On the Road with Judas, and in the film he has created the screenplay for his book. There is a fantastical interview show, where the characters of the book and the screenplay actors meet. Each version of the characters tell the love story they are embarking on. While oddly complex, Lask does a decent job of making it easy to understand. This is truly one of the cliché indie films. In true postmodern form, this film is all about taking a seemingly ordinary love story and telling it in an extraordinary way. People’s inability to move past broken hearts drives this story, causing all those emotional, love-sick, anti-Valentine’s day people to be reminded, once again, that they are alone and it’s their own fault. The end of this film accents this nicely. While the story of the major characters in the novel and screenplay is happening, a subplot about Lask occurs where he tries to convince the novel’s romantic interest to allow him to write the book and eventually screenplay about her. In the final moments of the film he is sleeping with her and talking to her about how she was portrayed. But when the camera pans back to the bed, she is gone. It’s a powerful moment that reveals that the paralyzing nature of love cannot change without choice.

Black Snake Moan (Sundance Film Review)

From the director of Hustle and Flow, Black Snake Moan proved to be a great surprise. Finally, a film that is sexual with a purpose. It’s a story about a woman (Christina Ricci) who was sexually abused and has grown up constantly needing sex to survive. She comes in contact with a bitter farmer (Samuel L. Jackson) after a bad night of partying. This farmer suddenly feels the need to nurse her back to health. During the process, he finds out that she has a deeper pain going on. He then takes it upon himself to cure her of her “wicked ways.” He then chains her to his living room as a way to make her go “cold turkey” on her addiction to sex. What follows is a lot of hysterical dialogue and surprisingly engaging characters. There are two intriguing aspects of the film. First, Samuel L. Jackson sings several blues songs, and they are extremely well done. The music and the lyrics are well thought through. Second, the symbol of the chain is quite powerful. We are given the its literal when Jackson chains Ricci to his living room. We are then given its symbolic use when Ricci has a small golden chain wrapped around the waste of her wedding dress. In one of the final moments of the film, she must choose to use sex to solve her problems or change, and she grabs hold of the chain and decides to take a new path.

Hounddog (Sundance Film Review)

Pre-viewing controversy surrounding Hounddog turned out to be more interesting than the film itself. Dakota Fanning is a very talented actor, but her ability to fascinate a crowd with her youthful performance could not deter the lack of intrigue built into the screenplay of Hounddog. Hounddog is about a little girl who is forced to grow up too quickly, lacking sufficient support from her family. Lewellen (Fanning) is able to be a playful youth until her father is struck by lightning and can no longer take care of himself. Add to this a stereotypically fire, brimstone, and whisky Christian grandmother, and Lewellen must forget about a happy life. Her only joy is in the music of Elvis—particularly his rendition of “Hounddog.” It is this redition that the stereotypically pimpled face milk boy sees Lewellen perform and halfway through the film rapes her. This was not an exploitive seen, and actually was not a strong enough event in the plot to matter—it should have occurred earlier in the film. And yet another stereotype (the black man as primitive witch doctor there to serve the interests of surrounding white), the neighbour and snake export helps Lewellen come to terms with her demons by singing the one song she feels caused her rape. But she sings “Hounddog” in its original context before Elvis redid it for a white audience. This is the only redeeming moment in this incredibly boring and over-dramatized film. The continually changing context of “Hounddog” creates an interesting look at the power of music to seduce and liberate. Unfortunately, the film is simply boring and relies on one-dimensional characters that have been created through far too many Deep South period pieces before this one.