Jan Dara

Jan Dara A film review by Don Willmott (Copyright © 2005 filmcritic.com)

Jan Dara, a Thai import adapted from a well-known Thai novel by the feverish mind of writer/director Nonzee Nimibutr, is a thoughtful tone poem about the bonds between father and son and the importance of family loyalty in a troubled…

Wait. Let me start again. Jan Dara is about sex. Lots of sex. Lots of hot sex of every imaginable kind. Any other thematic concern — and there are a few — is hopelessly lost in the wake of all that sweaty, mosquito-net-shrouded sex.

The title character (Suwinit Panjamawat) is born into a well-to-do Bangkok household, but his mother dies in childbirth, and his father Khun Kaew (Patharawarin Timkul) hates him for causing her death. (He also hints that Jan Dara may not be his flesh and blood.) As Dad surrounds himself with an ever-changing retinue of hot girlfriends, maids, and nannies, Jan Dara grows up like Cinderella, forced to do chores and endure severe beatings, even as he watches his younger half-sister enjoy her status as Daddy’s little princess. It’s all humiliating and impossible to bear. No matter where Jan Dara walks in the house, Dad is screwing someone on a chaise lounge.

Eventually, Dad’s number one girlfriend Khun Boonlueang (Christy Chung) takes a shine to Jan Dara, and on one especially hot day, she asks him to join her in her budoir to work her over with an ice cube. Jan Dara, who at age 15 has already been introduced to sex by various horny housekeepers, takes Khun Bo as his lover. What better revenge on Dad than bedding his woman? Sex as a weapon. Let the war begin.

Although Jan Dara also longs for a virginal local schoolgirl, he’s always sucked back into the sexual cesspool of the family manse. We see cousins boinking cousins, girls boinking girls, Dad boinking everyone, and Jan Dara boinking Khun Bo. When Dad happens to see this last one, he has a massive stroke. The war is over, but for some reason involving real estate deeds, it won’t truly end until Jan Dara marries and rapes his half-sister. Too bad they didn’t have air conditioning back then. These people really need to cool off!

Hot blooded, I'm hot blooded!

Crash (2005)

A film review by David Levine - Copyright © 2006 filmcritic.com

In Crash, a simple car accident forms an unyielding foundation for the complex exploration of race and prejudice. Thoroughly repulsive throughout, but incredibly thought provoking long after, Paul Haggis' breathtaking directorial debut succeeds in bringing to the forefront the behaviors that many people keep under their skin. And by thrusting these attitudes toward us with a highly calculated, reckless abandon, Haggis puts racism on the highest pedestal for our review.

There is no better place for this examination than the culturally diverse melting pot of modern-day Los Angeles. In just over 24 hours, Crash brings together people from all walks of life. Two philosophizing black men (Ludacris and Larenz Tate) steal the expensive SUV belonging to the white, L.A. District Attorney (Brendan Fraser), and his high-strung wife (Sandra Bullock). A similar vehicle belonging to a wealthy black television director (Terrence Howard) and his wife (Thandie Newton) is later pulled over by a racist cop (Matt Dillon) and his partner (Ryan Phillippe). Soon, many of these people get mixed up with a Latino locksmith (Michael Peña), a Persian storekeeper (Shaun Toub), and two ethnically diverse, dating police detectives (Don Cheadle and Jennifer Esposito).

Every confrontation leads to an inexcusably violent, outward display of racism. Haggis and co-screenwriter Robert Moresco have crafted a scrupulous script that keeps the film's tension near the boiling point with merciless verbal assaults and disgusting physical demonstrations of hatred. There's little redeeming value to any of these individuals. Looking for a hero? Forget it -- you'll be hard-pressed to find anyone without flaws. One moment, they're behaving in the most loathsome ways; later, they're performing acts of kindness you wouldn't think these characters are capable of.

And that's the primary point Haggis seeks to drive home with Crash. We're all in some way swayed by our preconceptions of others, and our behaviors and attitudes are affected by the situations we find ourselves in. In one example from the film, when Dillon's racist cop happens upon a serious traffic accident, he risks his own life to save the life of a black woman trapped inside her car. Dillon, the previous night, sexually assaulted this same woman while showing off to his rookie partner during a routine traffic stop.

Superbly crafted and visually stunning from start to finish, Haggis's follow-up to Million Dollar Baby is on par with similarly structured ensemble stories like Robert Altman's Short Cuts, and Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia. All of the performances in Crash are first rate; to single out one would be an injustice to the others. Even those with the smallest roles generate a large impact.

Crash is not without some minor flaws. While the pure bluntness and confrontational nature these people take with their racist remarks delivers the film's strong message, many times it feels like overkill. It also seems like a bit of a reach that all of these individuals would cross paths multiple times in the second largest city in the U.S -- one too many conveniences for my liking.

Crash packs a giant emotional punch that keeps us watching and constantly demanding a closer look at our own attitudes and belief systems. This powerful and important film should not be missed.

The DVD includes commentary track and behind the scenes footage.

You have the right to remain silent during the movie.

No Man's Land Review

No Man's Land: A film review by Christopher Null - Copyright © 2001 filmcritic.com

Patton would have been disgusted.

Modern wars (at least, those not involving the U.S.) aren't fought man to man, or even tank to tank. They're fought in the dead of night, when everyone thinks the United Nations "peacekeepers" aren't watching. By day, the U.N. "smurfs" (so called because of their ridiculous blue helmets) try in vain to broker half-assed ceasefires between sides that have extremely complicated reasons for fighting and have little respect for the men in blue.

Unlike any of the recent rash of rotten films about the conflict in Bosnia (Savior, Welcome to Sarajevo) No Man's Land presents a balanced and devastatingly accurate look at the conflict, lambasting the west for its inability (or apathy) to do much of anything to stop the carnage.

And while No Man's Land is really about presenting its political goals, it still manages to hold our attention by telling a very personal and engaging story from the front lines. Or rather, from between the front lines, as we fine two soldiers, one Bosnian and one Serbian, stuck in the no man's land between the trenches. A standoff develops when a third man becomes trapped, lying upon a live land mine that will obliterate the area if he is moved. And an uneasy détente forms among the men as they wait from help from the U.N. in defusing the mine. Their innate hatred for one another makes it difficult for any kind of peace, however short, to be reached -- and as a result, the whole situation self-destructs.

The ending is unfortunately both expected and curiously unmoving, though it's not without a certain sense of irony and a hands-in-the-air surrender about the reality of the modern civil war. All of the performances are spot-on, though the use of a half-dozen languages that come at you rapid-fire gets unnerving quickly. While No Man's Land doesn't quite redefine the war genre, expect to see it on a number of top ten lists come year-end (and in fact, it just won Best Foreign Language Film at the 2002 Oscars, Best Screenplay at 2001 Cannes Film Festival and Best Foreign Film at Golden Globe Awards).