Let the Dance Begin (2023)

This may be the first time in eight years that I attended the Latin American Film Festival at AFI. It took my parents' invitation to get my attention. The plot of this entry sounded more fun than most.

Carlos (Darío Grandinetti) is a famous former tango dancer who went on to coach in Spain. One day, his old friend Pichuquito (Jorge Marrale) reports that Carlos's erstwhile wife and tango partner, Margarita (Mercedes Morán), has committed suicide. Carlos flies to Argentina, goes to the funeral, and then learns that "Marga" faked her death, largely because he wouldn't come otherwise. She confesses to lying about an abortion 40 years ago, and she wants his company in visiting their son for the first time since she gave the baby up for adoption. Carlos makes up an excuse to his current wife, Elvira (Pastora Vega, not that one), for not returning on schedule and joins Marga and "Pichu" (not that one) on a two-day road trip.

As you may have guessed, Carlos is very reluctant. First he furiously denies the possibility of a son. He and Marga had not parted on good terms, so he wouldn't put it past her to seek vengeance. Then he worries about riding in a van about as geriatric as its passengers. Elvira gets suspicious and says that he's much needed back home. And setbacks along the way reinforce his conviction that the drive was a mistake.

Wikipedia lists only eight actors in total; IMDb stops at six. It's not like no one else gets spoken lines. My parents and I wouldn't be surprised if most had no professional acting background and were simply geographically convenient. Several minor characters do appear smiling during the end credits.

At any rate, we don't doubt the professionalism of the leads. They really tie the picture together with their complicated feelings, including between Carlos and Pichu. It soon becomes clear that Marga and Pichu continue to share secrets they haven't told Carlos by the start of the journey, which adds to the tragicomic awkwardness.

The theater audience laughed quite a bit. I found the humor just OK. Maybe it works better for people of relevant heritage, of whom there were many in attendance. As it happens, my parents and I had visited Argentina briefly, but only now did we realize how difficult it is for us to understand Argentinians compared with other Spanish speakers, even with subtitles to hint what words they might have used.

Fortunately, the humor was adequate for alleviating my mood in light of the more serious moments. Things move pretty slowly for 99 minutes, but I hardly noticed; the pace no doubt serves its purpose. And for all the characters' flaws that drive each other nuts, we see why they care. As do we.

For a story of three seniors driving across open country, LtDB is engaging. My family may well have chosen the best option in the festival.

The Spirit of the Beehive (1973)

The fact that most if not all of the major characters in this picture use the actors' real names led me to assume that it was an indie. IMDb tells me that it was just to avoid confusion for six-year-old lead actress Ana Torrent. But independent or not, this art film doesn't exactly look expensive.

In Spain circa 1940, Ana and her slightly older sister, Isabel (Isabel Tellería), watch a dubbed airing of the 1931 Frankenstein. Ana takes special interest in the scene where the monster befriends a little girl. Meaning to poke fun at her, Isabel says that the monster is a spirit who can be summoned in real life. Ana fully believes it, or at least wants to, and goes looking in a vacant sheepfold. Outside of her imagination, the closest thing she finds to that spirit is an injured fugitive (Juan Margallo).

Blonde Venus (1932)

This makes the fifth collaboration of Marlene Dietrich and director Josef von Sternberg that I've seen. Ordinarily, I wouldn't watch it only a month and a half after the previous, but again, I'm prioritizing oldies in anticipation that they'll soon be hard to find.

When chemist Ned (Herbert Marshall) learns that his best hope to survive his radium poisoning is an expensive, multi-month treatment overseas, his wife Helen (Dietrich) resumes her nightclub singing career to help pay for it, with the titular stage name. Then she finds a more profitable method: dating rich patron Nick (Cary Grant), who advises her to quit the stage so she can properly look after her young son, Johnny (Dickie Moore). They plan to discontinue before Ned comes home, but he does so earlier than expected, discover's Helen's infidelity, and kicks her out. Refusing to surrender custody, she goes on the lam with Johnny, until she realizes how bad it is for all involved.

47 Ronin (2013)

I didn't remember whether this was supposed to be good, but its 118-minute run made it seem a decent choice to keep me occupied while donating platelets. I later learned that it bombed at the box office but still managed to get a Netflix sequel last year. Go figure.

Circa 1700, half-English, half-Japanese Kai (Keanu Reeves) is rumored to have been raised by demons or perhaps be one, which doesn't stop Lord Asano (Min Tanaka) from giving him shelter since boyhood. But one day, power-hungry Lord Kira (Tadanobu, heh, Asano) uses demonic connections of his own to deceive Asano into an act bad enough to demand seppuku. The shogun (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa) awards Asano's domain to Kira and orders Asano's daughter Mika (Ko Shibasaki), Kai's love, to marry Kira after a year of mourning. Asano counselor Oishi (Hiroyuki Sanada) spends a year in jail, then frees Kai from slavery as a combatant. Regretting his earlier acquiescence to such injustice, Oishi now plans to lead Asano's former samurai to illegal revenge on Kira before the wedding. Since ronin are considered honorless, they become more amenable to accepting help from Kai, who really does know a thing or two about demons....

One, Two, Three (1961)

It took me a while to understand the reason for this movie's title. The story is based pretty loosely on a Ferenc Molnár play by the same title in Hungarian. Both use the counting briefly in dialog to indicate a hurry, which befits a His Girl Friday-like pace. In light of that, I would have omitted the commas and possibly added a comedic exclamation point, but too late now.

In West Berlin shortly before the wall construction, "Mac" McNamara (James Cagney) leads business operations and hopes to get promoted further, which would explain why he agrees to host Scarlett (Pamela Tiffin), freewheeling 17-year-old daughter of his boss (Howard St. John), at his home for two weeks. Most of the plot takes place two months later, when Scarlett is still there -- and has just eloped with avid communist Otto (Horst Buchholz). Fearing a blacklisting when her father finds out in the near future, Mac tries to get Otto put away for the long haul. Then he learns that Scarlett is pregnant, so it would be better to give Otto a Pygmalion treatment in a matter of hours....

The Spanish Prisoner (1997)

I had seen several movies written by David Mamet but none directed by him. This one was probably recommended to me because more than one reviewer found it Hitchcockian. I welcome an intelligent thriller.

Joe Ross (Campbell Scott) has devised a new and potentially super-profitable corporate strategy, a MacGuffin cryptically known only as "the Process." To celebrate, his boss (Ben Gazzara) invites him to a Caribbean retreat, where he meets affectionate new secretary Susan (Rebecca Pidgeon) and apparently rich and friendly tourist Jimmy (Steve Martin in a rare non-comedic role). Upon hearing of the Process, Jimmy advises Joe to contact a non-company lawyer so the executives don't stiff him on dividends. But Joe has no idea what lengths some people will go to for theft. Pretty soon, he starts to look and sound like a lying thief....

48 Hrs. (1982)

I picked this not so much for promising entertainment as for a lesson in influence. People credit it with launching the buddy cop subgenre, despite only one member of the duo being a cop. It inspired one of the leads in Miami Vice and left its direct fingerprints on Last Action Hero and even Zootopia.

Officer Jack Cates (Nick Nolte) of San Francisco is determined to catch prison-breaking Albert Ganz (James Remar) and accomplice Billy Bear (Sonny Landham), especially after they make off with Jack's pistol. Not knowing where to look for them, Jack requests the guidance of convict Reggie Hammond (Eddie Murphy in his big-screen debut), who used to work with the others but now has a bone to pick with them. Reggie agrees only on the condition that he can come along. Jack gets him a pass for the titular duration, hoping Reggie doesn't get away for good but mostly hoping the others don't.

To be clear, Albert and Billy are murderers and hostage takers, but Reggie appears to have done nothing worse than armed robbery. The crimes he attempts during his, shall we say, working vacation are nothing so bold. We could almost root for him to escape.

For most of the movie, Jack and Reggie have rather acidic interactions. Jack in particular doesn't shy away from openly racist remarks. Others deliver slurs against Billy's Indian heritage. If this kind of talk offends you greatly, you may have a tough time enjoying the picture.

Even in the end, it would be a stretch to call Jack and Reggie friends. It's more that they've learned to put up with and are willing to do favors for one another. This enabled a sequel, but I wouldn't call it heartwarming.

Frankly, if not for the casting of Murphy, I wouldn't think to label this movie a comedy. All those foul-mouthed, sardonic lines rarely came close to tickling me, and the filmmakers rightly worried that the violence would counteract the humor. Jack's pretty unprofessional and finds many co-workers worse still, but they're not played for laughs. Even Reggie's cop impersonation in a hick bar, which makes for an exaggerated scene, could easily be dismissed as just a little lighter than a typical action flick moment.

And how is it for action? Pretty packed for the time, but low on innovation. The moments of resolution are predictable to the point of dullness. I noticed that quite a few of the people involved, including writer-director Walter Hill, had previously made The Warriors, which, for all its fun, is similarly anticlimactic.

I'm afraid 48H is neither the next TW nor the first Beverly Hills Cop. Everyone here had done and/or would go on to do better. At least I achieved my goal of information.

The Secret of Roan Inish (1994)

I don't remember hearing about this story before, but I can guess why I added it to my queue. Family-friendly Irish fantasies have a good track record with me. Anyway, it was rather different from my most recent viewings, despite being set in the aftermath of World War II.

In '46, possibly nine-year-old Fiona has lost her mother, and her father's in a poor state to take care of her, so she moves to her grandparents' seaside village. She comes to learn of nearby Roan Inish, which means "Island of Seals," but rumor has it they're really selkies. In fact, she's said to have descended from one, tho evidence lies only in the occasional dark-haired family member with a strong marine inclination. Fiona learns that she had one such baby brother, who disappeared with his cradle at sea. Intrigued, she starts repeatedly visiting Roan Inish with slightly older cousin Eamon -- and makes a discovery that few even among the locals would believe....