The Luzhin Defence (2001)
Posted in Hot Pics on July 29th, 2009 andCo-directed by Virginie Despentes and Coralie Trinh Thi, “Baise-moi” apes
the “Thelma & Louise” model of raging chicks on the lam by following blase
hooker Nadine (Karen Bach) and crusty porn actress Manu (Raffaela Anderson) on
a remorseless killing spree across France.
That’s the whole story right there: Find a man, have sex with him, then
kill him and laugh at the remains. The film’s attitude is found in its name:
The official English title is “Rape Me,” but the literal translation can’t be
printed here.
In a prologue, “Baise-moi” creates a social context for its tale of hell-
bent female reprisal. After Manu and a girlfriend are gang-raped in an
abandoned garage, she goes to her boyfriend, who only wants to know who did it
– not how she feels. By the time she meets Nadine and invites her on her road
trip to hell, both women are ready, as Manu says, “to let rip the motherf–
side of our soul!”
The more they kill, the more they like it. John Waters used to make movies
like this — about nasty, asocial women who turn to anarchy when the world
gives them a raw deal — but he did it for laughs and didn’t mix his satire
with half-baked messages about corrective revenge and the power gap between
men and women.
The politics are blurry at best in “Baise-moi.” Whatever message it wants
to impart is overwhelmed by shoddy technique (it was shot, badly, on digital
video) and a tendency to embrace the kind of exploitation with which it’s
supposedly in conflict.
Advisory: This movie contains raw language, graphic violence and sex.
Download Flo Rida free mp3
– Edward Guthmann
‘ONE NIGHT AT MCCOOL’S’

Comedy. Starring Liv Tyler, Matt Dillon, John Goodman, Michael Douglas.
Directed by Harald Zwart. (R. 90 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)
Liv Tyler, your dad called. It seems he and his band want their video back.
What? You don’t know what we’re talking about? Why, “One Night at McCool’s,”
where you get all wet and soapy while washing that car. It’s a shamelessly
dumb scene — notable for the growling Joan Osborne song to which Tyler scrubs
– in a shamelessly dumb movie. Tyler must have gotten the whole shooting
script wet filming that scene because there’s really no evidence of there ever
having been one. Aerosmith videos are more fun.
She’s all video ‘ho here — decolletage and short-shorts first; character
second — no, fourth, really. To her credit, Tyler seems to be going for some
kind of low-rent Ashley Judd femme fatale. But the movie lurches from bad
comedy to sinful pathos, leaving noir under the very Dumpster that violently
buries one character — and 90 minutes too late, frankly.
Tyler’s Jewel gets thrown out of her hubby’s car one night at McCool’s.
Matt Dillon tends bar there, and soon he’s tending to her. Soon after that,
her husband’s dead. Then detective John Goodman shows up, then somehow
attorney Paul Reiser gets involved, then so does hired assassin Michael
Douglas, then final-insult Andrew Dice Clay shows up for the shootout finale
cued to “YMCA.” It’s Kmart Tarantino all the way.
Blinded by horniness, the men here can’t think straight, and neither can
the movie, which is why it all feels like a needless, thankless, charmless
shout-out to the ’80s rock video. That was an art form where it was cool, in
its brevity, to let a pair of bodacious ta-tas and breathy speech patterns
make the entire project go lame. But 90 minutes of drooling? For that, the
studio executives who green-lighted this thing should be consigned to wipe the
mouths of the underage boys who’ve sneaked in to ogle.
Advisory: This movie contains sexual situations and profanity.
– Wesley Morris
‘THE LUZHIN DEFENCE’

Tragicomedy. Starring Emily Watson and John Turturro. Directed by Marleen
Gorris. (PG-13. 106 minutes. At Embarcadero Center Cinemas.)
Chess genius Alexander Luzhin is monomaniacal about the game until he
glimpses Russian emigre aristocrat Natalia and instantly makes a niche in his
life for something else: her. Otherwise, he is unkempt, preoccupied, awkward,
socially inept, can’t follow an ordinary train of thought or talk straight. In
fact, he has no small talk whatsoever. She thinks he is the most interesting
man she has ever met.
In “The Luzhin Defence,” director Marleen Gorris (”Antonia’s Line”) and
screenwriter Peter Berry have freely adapted Vladimir Nabokov’s novel about a
distracted chess master who goes over the edge. When the film sticks with the
eccentric comedy of a highborn woman attracted to a preoccupied genius, it
works splendidly. When it strays into melodrama, it is as ill-equipped as
Luzhin.
Emily Watson and John Turturro’s performances make the film. Soignee but
with a gleam in her eye, Natalia (Watson) resists her snobbish mother’s
distaste for Luzhin. The awkward chess genius calls for a bravura performance,
and Turturro delivers one. As Luzhin slides further into disarray, the
audience will want to protect him as much as Natalia does.
With all too much regularity, however, Turturro gets a distant look in his
eyes that signals a flashback to childhood and his parents’ troubled marriage.
Putting these pieces together becomes hardly worth the effort. By the time the
center of gravity shifts to a villain who exploits Luzhin, the pleasure of
following this film has turned to impatience.
“The Luzhin Defence” depicts a sparkling present, in the late ’20s at a
lavish hotel on Lake Como in Italy, and a dark past in St. Petersburg.
– Bob Graham
‘CHOPPER’

Drama. Starring Eric Bana. Directed and written by Andrew Dominik. (Not
rated. 94 minutes. At the Lumiere, Shattuck in Berkeley, Rafael Film Center in
San Rafael, Towne 3 in San Jose.)
In Australia, where he bungled a kidnapping attempt and sliced off his ears
to secure a prison transfer, Mark “Chopper” Read is a folk hero and a best-
selling author. In this blunt, hard-edged comedy from writer-director Andrew
Dominik, he’s equal parts monster, buffoon, wounded child and cunning,
tattooed sociopath.
Dominick has a distinct visual style — Kubrick austerity seems to be his
model — but his portrait of Chopper is episodic, impressionistic. It feels
ragged and inspecific, as if he hadn’t made up his mind about his central
character and was content to let scenes play out without an authorial overview.
It’s Eric Bana, a popular Australian stand-up comic, who justifies our
interest with a dazzling performance of blunt humor, unpredictability and an
edge of menace. There’s no way to predict the mood swings of this Chopper: He
may stab a prison mate in the eye, then collapse in pitying tears. Remorse
morphs into rage; lies and truth form one unruly knot.
Although Dominick remains unresolved about his character, his wry take on
the deification of criminals in a tabloid world is spot-on. The press, the
public, even prison officials are enchanted by Chopper’s goony bluster.
Never mind that he killed upward of 19 people: He’s got star quality, he
makes good copy and he’s a distraction from dull routine. For Chopper, crime
not only pays; it’s also sexy, scintillating and an antidote to tedium.
Advisory: This movie contains raw language, extreme violence, nudity, drug
use.
– Edward Guthmann