Shutterfly Films

Meet Sergio.  Sergio is an aspiring writer/director whose Western script “Sal” (Salt) has been turned down by every producer he meets.  There’s no story, they say.  It is clear that nothing has ever happened to you, Sergio, they tell him.  It reads like you have never been to the (?) desert, Sergio.  So, in an attempt to get a better feel for the place and hoping that the change of location will help him infuse some soul into his script, Sergio flies out to Chile.

The last thing he expected was to be mistaken for the local hero, Diego.

Only, not everyone is thrilled to see “Diego” again.  Victor, the man Diego had an altercation with before leaving, is especially displeased.

What follows is Sergio’s continuing embroilment with the locals’ problems as well as his unwilling descent into being Sergio.

There’s a particular bit I like where Sergio/Diego is treking barefoot through the desert and instead of having the actor pant or moan about how thirsty he is, water water water, or any of those clichés, the filmmakers have instead opted to use sound to get their point across.  As Sergio shuffles through the sand, each of his footsteps is replaced with the sound of sloshing water.

One of the joys of independent films is how they can tell regional stories.

Winter’s Bone is an example of pitch-perfect independent filmmaking that is steeped in the region of its story.  Set not so much as against the backdrop of the Ozarks as

and filmed in the rural Ozarks of Missouri, teenager Ree Dolly is searching for her father in order to save the family homestead.  Mr. Dolly had placed the house as collateral for his bail and now a few days before his trial, looks to be skipping town.

Ang Lee’s Ode to 1969

Taking Woodstock is not a concert film.  Let’s get that out of the way first.  If you’re looking to see footage of Janis Joplin or hear the strains of Jimi Hendrix, this is not the movie for you.

The use of what looks like archival footage is lovely touch as is the now-dated look of split-screen action.  In most films they wouldn’t work, but in a film about an era in which they were originally used, it would be out of place not to use the techniques.

The film is rosy-tinted in its view.  Though it hints at a darker side with police raids on gay clubs and angry neighbors painting swastikas, it remains a brightly-colored world of love and hope and joy.

I can see why Mr. Lee wanted to make this film; as he said, after six tragedies in a row, he wanted to do a comedy.  This light, effervescent film is a love song to bright new beginnings and to what might be.

The American, directed by Anton Corbijn and starring George Clooney is a moody little gem of a film about an assassin Jack (Clooney) on what his to be his last assignment: to build a custom rifle for the woman Mathilde while hiding away in  a small mountain town in the Abruzzo region of Italy.

It is a thriller light on the thrills, but heavy on atmosphere.  The film is beautifully shot and while the dialogue is sparse, it adds exactly what it needs to the story and no more.  And when the wrong person says the wrong words, it all goes downhill from there.