Ok, so by this point you’ve already seen War of the Worlds and Batman Begins and decided whether it’s Herbie or Lindsay Lohan who’s really Fully Loaded. Now it’s time for the fun part of the year, when those little independent movies start to sneak into multiplexes. Boosted by solid box-office showings in Los Angeles and New York, these pics are eager for nominations and acclaim.
Independent film is of course a misnomer: In this day and age, it refers to films produced with small to medium budgets, without huge stars and with the participation of smaller studios like Focus Features or Warner Independent. There are very few true “independent” films—done completely outside of the studio system—that get distribution deals.
Smaller budgets, however, do not mean small-name directors. Among the directors with films being released later in 2005 are acclaimed auteurs Jim Jarmusch and Wong-Kar Wai, as well as a bevy of new, aspiring voices.
In July, a number of early-summer darlings begin to expand nationwide, as Focus rolls out My Summer of Love, a delicate love story set in a small British town, and Sony Pictures Classics releases the final Merchant/Ivory Production, Heights. My Summer of Love plays like a Sofia Coppola film, featuring brilliant performances by the two female leads, an excellent score and lovely photography. Heights, which assumed its weighty canonical role after producer Ismail Merchant passed away earlier in 2005, features Glenn Close as a New York mother caught in turmoil. The film isn’t Merchant/Ivory’s best, but Close asserts herself again as a distinctive talent.
Newcomer Miranda July (see interview) bridges the gap between performance art and film with the lovably bizarre Me and You and Everyone We Know (see review), a critically lauded, truly independent picture that is hilarious and touching. It has a grasp of the idiosyncrasies of modern life that should propel it toward the awards season; in fact, Everyone We Know has already won awards on the film festival circuit across the country.
Rounding out the month are a trio of fantastic documentaries: March of the Penguins, a nature documentary narrated by Morgan Freeman about the Emperor penguin; Rize, a wham-bam-jam dance movie from Dave LaChapelle (note the La) featuring “krump-dancing;” and Murderball, the Sundance Festival award winner about disabled athletes playing wheelchair rugby. All three documentaries follow in the footsteps of the indie genre’s recent success, which should allow them to find relatively wide audiences.
August marks the arrival of the big boys, with Jarmusch’s Broken Flowers—the Cannes Palme d’Or winner—and Wai’s 2046, a sequel of sorts to his classic In the Mood For Love. Flowers has already started to gain Oscar buzz for its lead actor, Bill Murray, who is looking for Oscar redemption after being robbed in 2003 for Lost In Translation. The story follows Don (Murray) after he receives an anonymous note alerting him to the existence of a son. Egged on by his neighbor (Jeffrey Wright), Don visits his ex-girlfriends in search of answers.
Later in August, City of God director Fernando Meirelles helms Focus’ The Constant Gardener, adapted from the John Le Carre novel and starring Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz. It will be Meirelles first American-funded project. 2046 is a futuristic love story that features the same style made famous in In the Mood for Love. Wai is a master of mood, tempo and composition, but it is his remarkable ability to infuse small objects and small moments with massive importance that makes him so extraordinary. 2046 should be a hit with critics—as it was in Hong Kong, where it won numerous Hong Kong Film Awards—though its appeal may be limited in American theaters.
The end of the summer also marks the end of a film tour by Rialto Pictures. Rialto focuses primarily on restoring classic, little-seen foreign films to mint condition and re-releasing them. This summer, they bring French noir Elevator to the Gallows (see review) to theaters. Gallows is a true gem, still incredibly enjoyable decades after its initial release.
Although “independent” may not mean the same thing as it has in the past, the set of films from minor studios mixed with truly independent work from firmly established directors and talented newcomers makes for an exciting summer. If everything is as good as it gets, the art-house films might even be good enough to wash the foul stench of The Adventures of Lava-Boy and Shark Girl from everyone’s palates.
That could only be a good thing.
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