Its producers tout The English Surgeon as a powerful, emotional analysis of one man’s struggle between “God-like surgical powers” and fallible, imperfect humanity. I, however, supposed that the film might actually be the manifestation of one man’s colossal ego sweeping through examination rooms and over operating tables, untroubled by how delicate patients or scrutinizing audience members might react. I have a history of hating doctors; naturally, I assumed I would not find myself swept up in sentiment after viewing this movie about a “benevolent” English surgeon submitting himself to “pro bono” neurosurgical work in the Ukraine. However, for the most part, I have become an unwavering fan of this film, its beautiful cinematography, its captivating characters, and its simultaneously hopeful yet solemn soul.

Fittingly, I attended a screening of this movie at the 2008 Silverdocs film festival, in a beautiful Silver Spring theater just a block away from the Discovery Channel’s headquarters. While Discovery Health Channel documentaries are quite fascinating indeed, The English Surgeon is much distinguished from its television, health-chronicling counterparts; the movie is so artfully shot, so perfectly scored, that it plays like a feature length film. The documentary’s premise goes something like this: On a trip to the Ukraine, English neurosurgeon Henry Marsh found few to no brain tumor treatment options available to the country’s neurosurgical patients. Amidst a landscape filled with incompetent, unethical medical personnel, Dr. Marsh discovered Dr. Igor Kurilets working furiously to help his patients in the KGB hospital where political prisoners had received brutal electroshock therapy treatments up until just a few years before. Igor dreams of opening his country’s first independent neurosurgical clinic; until then, Dr. Marsh agreed to be his mentor while saving as many Ukrainian patients as he can.

The bulk of the movie surrounds Marian, a young man, living in rural, Western Ukraine with an epilepsy-inducing brain tumor considered inoperable by his homeland’s doctors. When Dr. Marsh meets Marian, he is candid about the damage brain surgery might inflict on Marian’s mind. However, for Marsh and Marian, the risk of surgery shrinks in comparison to the consequences of such a deadly tumor. Preparations are made and suspense builds up to the most climactic, if not intense sequence of the film: a fifteen minute, graphically illustrated brain operation that requires Marian to remain awake the entire time. Surprisingly, these moments spent cutting through Marian’s skull and slicing through his brain tissue are worth much more than shock value; the patient is so endearing, so filled with faith, that he graciously endures the operation with smiles and silly faces. Marian survives; the operation he would have never received from Ukrainian doctors seems almost a cinch for Dr. Marsh.

This is not to say that Henry Marsh is filled with medical miracles; he is haunted by the death of a young Ukrainian girl he tried to save with a series of operations that went terribly, awfully wrong. Both he and Geoffrey Smith are adamant that the film is not intended to “sanitize” the scope of human suffering or make claims about one doctor’s “monopoly” on cure. Indeed, perhaps the most agonizing moment of the film features the clinic visit of a gorgeous young woman faced with a very rare, inoperable tumor beyond the help of even Dr. Marsh’s saving grace. While the two surgeons discuss the dire situation in English, the girl awaits a translation she can understand; eventually, diagnosis is postponed until she can summon her mother from Moscow. I still do not know what to think of this scene. It was a truly remarkable and panic inflicting experience, the likes of some type of terror I have never before encountered in any documentary film. I was disturbed that such a discussion was carried out in front of its dying subject, but I suppose to critique this aspect of the film would be to critique Dr. Marsh’s morals (which I otherwise agree with) and not the work of the filmmaker.

There was one other sequence in this film that perturbed me: a visit to an empty field for which Igor had drawn plans to erect a new neurosurgical hospital featuring a beautifully constructed central courtyard. This part of the documentary occurred near a discussion centered on how brain tumors commonly cause blindness before they kill. It felt it rather odd that a surgeon from a country with hardly any neurosurgical care at all should worry about aesthetics when planning the type of clinic he might have a difficult time filling with competent staff. Furthermore, it seemed a strange irony to attempt to accomplish visually appealing architecture in a hospital designed to treat those who might not be able to appreciate it. Because I felt this film was otherwise so successful at allowing the audience to walk in a neurosurgical patient’s shoes, I was distracted by the insensitivity of this particular sequence.

All in all, this film - its artful composition and its probing connections –had tremendous effect on me. Though I feel I left the theater with a dose of Dr. Marsh’s wisdom, I also left with tremendous sadness for the souls he could not save. Perhaps what The English Surgeon shows us is that God-like powers are not all they’re chalked up to be. The movie is a stunning portrait of a struggling country, a piercing look at the fate of its sickest; it is also an almost overwhelmingly sad venture into the meaning of life and the essence of humanity.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@ElitesTV.com

It seems that SOP’s only real revelation about the abuse at Abu Ghraib was the final verdict surrounding which of the controversial photographs contained evidence of torture and which depicted Standard Operating Procedure. While it is certainly important to distinguish between humane interrogational methods and those which cross the line, I’m not sure that this clarification alone made the film worthwhile. I think I might have appreciated this movie more if it had been more socially comprehensive; at least a few interviews with American and Iraqi civilians would have put the photographs in larger context. The scandal at Abu Ghraib isn’t only worth examining from the inside; the media coverage and cultural reaction surrounding the outbreak of the photographs is just as important to analyzing the whole scenario. The non-stop string of military personnel interviews seemed as unnatural to film as war is to human decency; maybe this was the effect Errol Morris was going for, but in order to expose a situation, I think it’s best to take the issue out of its element.

I could have done without all the dramatic reenactments and the overabundance of unnecessary graphics. A great portion of Standard Operating Procedure is dedicated to determining exactly how many cameras took pictures at the prison, which photographs belonged to each photographer, and what time elapsed before, during, and between each frame. The conclusions reached about the cameras seem to have no real relevance to the rest of the film. I would have rather seen Morris give a better presentation of the psychology behind photographing torture in a way that’s so obviously incriminating.

The woman who started the string of picture taking read a letter she’d written to her partner back home in order to clarify her motives; according to this poorly written account, the reason she began taking pictures was so that she might reveal the ‘shit the army does.’ Yet the woman left out the most important part about exposing her pictures: she never turned them in. It seems that Morris is satisfied with her insincere and incomplete expression about why the first photograph was taken, and his other subjects never offer any additional insight about why other participants joined in to take thousands more pictures. One of the documentary’s more charismatic and insightful interviewees justly proclaimed that no one would have ever known or cared about what happened at Abu Ghraib if there hadn’t been any pictures. And so I wish that SOP had focused on those pictures and why they were captured instead of the cameras used and the minute distinctions between lawful interrogation and torture. It would have been a far more interesting film.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@ElitesTV.com

I even tried to liken all the Indiana Jones fans’ enthusiasm to my own passion for my favorite film franchise. As I thought about it, I determined that the Indiana Jones chain is much like the Terminator series. Both have enjoyed sequel after sequel of action packed adventure; both have crossed over to television success, become theme park favorites, and pushed the limits of the action hero actor’s biological clock. As a diehard T1 and 2 fan, I was up in arms and ready to condemn an aged Arnold Schwarzenegger as he attempted to pick up where he left off, a decade after T2, in Terminator 3. However, I actually liked this movie, in spite of how terribly I wanted to hate it, because T3 is consistent with the feel and thrill of both Terminators before. Crystal Skull however, is ludicrous in both story and action adventure. After seeing this movie, I am shocked that Indiana’s fans have reviewed it so positively. It’s amazing to me that Indianaites are so joyful to see Steven Spielberg ‘add’ to their empire, when they really should be plain pissed that he messed it up. I was hoping Indiana Jones 4 would find me a fan; it didn’t. But I might have gotten at least a part of my wish; this movie is so bad, it makes the first three Indianas look just delicious in comparison.

Where do I begin? I should start, I suppose, with a short synopsis. In the beginning, Indiana finds himself fresh out of the geriatric ward and into Russian captivity, where he is forced to uncover precious cargo in a nuclear test site’s warehouse. The Russian’s are after the crystal skull, considered the most valuable part of an ‘interdimensional’ alien’s skeleton because it possesses infinite knowledge. The head of this cast of characters is Irina Spalko (Cate Blanchett) a fiery, black bobbed Soviet who is after the skull’s intelligence because she believes it will help her perfect the art of psychic warfare. After Indiana escapes a nuclear blast, he is randomly teamed up with young Mutt Williams (Shia LaBeouf) who enlists to help Indiana track down his friend Professor Ox (John Hurt) and return the skull to its rightful resting place among ancient ruins.

It seems to me that the alien storyline is sketchy enough without existing in the world of Indiana Jones, the rugged, even ‘earthy’ action hero who is most exciting when he is escaping flesh eating insects and perilous patches of quicksand. The extraterrestrial element was just too much for me to swallow; it took Indiana Jones from sand pits to sci-fi way too quickly and haphazardly. It required such effort to sell the alien thing that the characters spent way too much time talking themselves through their next moves; there was hardly any action in this movie at all. My excitement level stayed close to zero over an hour into the movie; it peeked sharply and all too briefly when Indiana encounters an evil throng of ants capable of collectively swallowing humans whole and dragging them underground. I wish the entire movie had me on the edge of my seat like the bug scene did, but really, nothing else was that interesting.

The dialogue was extra dumb in Crystal Skull, even by Indiana Jones standards. The on-screen chemistry between Ford and LaBeouf was just horrid, and so moments when Indiana gives proverbial, fatherly advice to Mutt ( “Now you’re jumping at shadows”) are stiff and down right laughable. LaBeouf is extremely annoying as Mutt, the comb-carrying, greasy ‘The Fonz’ -esque type character who looks a total fool flying with jungle monkeys and swinging from tree branches. Even though Harrison looked bored and the other actors got on my nerves, I really did appreciate Cate Balnchette’s performance as Irina; she absolutely nailed that wicked Russian accent and she looked absolutely fierce in bangs.

I thought that I would dislike Crystal Skull for pushing the Harrison Ford novelty to the limits. I figured that if Arnold can step down and let the Terminator continue on without him, Harrison should have the dignity to do the same. However, after seeing the sixty- five-year-old actor back in action, I think the Indiana character works better when he’s eligible for that senior citizen discount – especially in this latest installment. We’re not supposed to take Indiana Jones meets the aliens seriously, right? It fits the mood to see Harrison hobbling around Indiana’s sound stage set.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@Elitestv.com

The film’s title might best be translated as “airport novel”; indeed the script has all the elements of a classic travel tale: an escaped rapist/murderer, a lost and gullible young damsel in distress, and an iconic cultural hero who turns out to be nothing but a big fraud. Though all the set-up seems in tact, I think that if I were to read this movie as a novel on my next flight, the story might have me asleep well before my plane touched ground. Roman De Gare starts out as a rather fascinating and suspenseful character study but peters out with a poorly contrived, anticlimactic ending.

I loved the first half of this film; the suspense generated around the identity of Pierre Laclos (Dominique Pinon) is very well executed and had me on the edge of my seat. I was especially excited when he, a possible predator, was quite accidentally swept up in a plot pulled together by his potential prey, the young ‘hooker hairdresser’, Huguette (Audrey Dana.) The family drama that play’s out at Huguette’s home in the French country side is delightfully humorous and packed with poignant expression. Because parts of this movie were so sit-com funny, I almost wish that Roman De Gare would have let itself shine as an interesting, quirky story instead of stretching for the Hitchcock-like thriller status it never really achieved anyway.

Here’s the bottom line: I really like the core concept of this film – the sort of wicked, enterprising, zero-talent big name ‘novelist’ who is ‘haunted’ by her hard working, unacknowledged, yet gifted ghostwriter. Even though the word play on the writing ghost got a little old, the whole notion is an interesting thought for viewers to sleep on (if not before they watch their next movies) before they buy their next books. Go see this film; even if you (like me) only enjoy the first half while scoring an interesting topic of conversation, it should still be worth your while.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@ElitesTV.com

Sixteen-year-old Shirley Lyner (Katherine Waterston) is a high school junior who’s being bombarded by SAT prep classes and sex education. Though she’s a math whiz and an ultra dedicated student, Shirley also baby-sits to make some extra cash on the side. When one of her paying parents, Mr. Beltran (John Leguizamo), steals a kiss, Shirley is inspired to begin an affair and make much more money than she would have just reading bed times stories and heating up leftovers. When Mr. Beltran’s friends find out that he’s sacking his sitter, they too want to hire their own babysitting call girls. So Shirley, eager to enterprise, enlists her friends at school to pick up the extra gigs. The babysitting business booms for Shirley until one of her recruits starts a competitive business of her own and Shirley discovers a scary something about what kind of clients her service is actually attracting.

The movie’s poster is provocative enough - a tight teenaged abdomen seductively offset by low-rise jeans and a white t-shirt that sits just below the bust line, en route to making its way completely off its body. Though babysitting prostitution rings should certainly be considered moral abominations, I can’t help but demand that the movie that makes babysitting a real ‘service’ should be well… sexy. If young twenty-something Christina Ricci, or (heck) even younger twenty-something Evan Rachel Wood were to have taken on this role, it would have done The Babysitters at least some glimmer of good. There was obviously enough money in the budget to sign on names like John Leguizamo and Cynthia Nixon, yet relatively unknown and generally very unattractive Katherine Waterston was curiously given the most important role in the film. Even with a different actress, The Babysitter’s character development would still have been extremely slim; its poorly written dialogue would still be dripping with unnecessary drama. But though The Babysitters doesn’t come close to selling its story, a fresh faced, beautiful, interesting leading young lady would have at least maximized the allure of the film’s premise (slutty sitters) which is, in fact, pretty good. Seeing John Leguizamo seduce a gorgeous young girl could have been captivating. Instead, his sex scenes with Waterston (who sported poorly covered up pock marks, a gigantic frame, and very awkward expressions) made me feel just gross.

Other problems with this film: though the third act twist is quasi-exciting, it’s terribly enacted and inconsistent with the rest of the film. It is also horribly unclear who, exactly, Shirley’s character is supposed to be. She’s obviously quite a nerd with her argyle sweaters and she seems friendless throughout the beginning of the film. Then, suddenly, she’s the head madam of all of the cool girls at school. Finally, Shirley is supposed to be ‘saving up for college’ a notion that is inherently ridiculous; who saves for college? College is $100,000 dollars, and with Shirley’s whiz kid skills, she would have been much better off studying for scholarships than organizing weekend orgies with her friends and her town’s soccer dads. Though The Babysitters seems pretty interesting, don’t be fooled; this one’s not worth staying up past bed time.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@ElitesTV.com

Here’s a quick synopsis. Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is the son of a World War II weapons manufacturing genius and the newest head of his company, Stark Industries. Though Tony is partly the typical picture of second generation wealth – he enjoys riding fine automobiles and elite tier women- Tony is also hardworking, fearless, and determined not to fail.

As the twenty first century’s war on terror reignites his customers’ demands, Tony devises a new round of all powerful, top of the line, never before seen artillery and markets it personally overseas. During a trip to Afghanistan, Tony’s transport van is overtaken and he is captured and tortured by terrorists. The injuries from the explosion threaten to finish Tony off until a fellow captive doctor saves his life; he surgically implants an ingenious contraption consisting of a magnet attached to a car battery, designed to keep shrapnel from entering Tony’s heart. The terrorist organization knows Tony is worth more to them alive than dead, and so after ordering his repair, they force him to construct a top rate missile for the enemy side. Instead, Tony builds an Iron Man suit and busts out of captivity.

Back in America, Tony has a change of heart about weapons, and decides to perfect his suit design so that he can single handedly fight terrorism while saving American soldiers and Middle Eastern civilians. While ever so slowly falling in love with his beautiful assistant, Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow,) and keeping his mission secret from his Air Force friend, Lieut. Colonel Jim Rhodes (Terrence Howard), Tony runs into just a few small snafus before he is put to the ultimate question: Who is Iron Man?

It is probably next to impossible for audiences and critics alike to consider Iron Man in a vacuum; after all, this is a movie that’s part of the fairly competitive superhero movie genre and it’s set square in the middle of a pretty hot political topic: terrorism. It seems many moviegoers are already coming to profound and grandiose conclusions about what statements Iron Man makes about 911, Osama Bin Laden, and the Iraq War. But I would argue that Iron Man, though it is set in real world time and place, should be enjoyed for its action, its humor, its characters and storyline alone; in my opinion, people really shouldn’t look for any type of political instruction or vindication from an action flick that utilizes such deliberately terrible technological dialogue as “Just press the master bypass button!” When it comes to superhero movies, I think it’s best to keep figures like Batman in their Gothams – that way the audience isn’t too tempted to look for hero antics in America.

This is not to say that there isn’t any larger cultural message to be taken from Iron Man. During an intense scene, Tony’s eventual friend-turned-villain taunts him, “Do you really believe that just because you have an idea it belongs to you?” Iron Man is the creator of his fantastic suit, his incredible one man attempt to use weapons for good. When his nemesis steals his technology to thwart Tony’s humanitarian efforts, he creates an interesting scenario that really does function nicely as a springboard for an interesting intellectual discussion: “Who is Iron Man?” and “Does the artist own his art?” If there is a moral to Iron Man, the answer to these questions is it, but even if this film is entirely void of any morality at all, it’s still an enjoyable ride.

Robert Downey Jr. is prime cut for this role; he juices the elements of arrogant playboy, genuine do-gooder, and loveable love interest together into quite a fabulous cocktail of courage. Gwyneth Paltrow is lovely, fresh faced, and freckled – adorable and thoroughly convincing in her role as the beautiful Miss Pepper Potts. Terrance Howard is an on screen genius in this film as in all his others. Iron Man is wrought with humor and top rate dialogue; go see this film and just… have a good time.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@ElitesTV.com

The story in this movie is very scant, and although the vignettes are woven together, they aren’t as cohesive as they could be. Part of what makes this movie so genuinely genius to me is that what elements first left me dissatisfied, I later learned to love. For instance, several of the dream sequences seemed incomplete and unfinished - as though Andersson got bored with one short story and decided to pack up and go shoot another. But as the film sunk into my subconscious, I realized that the surface skittishness of this style exemplifies exactly what profound, long lasting, soul enveloping dreams will be. After I allowed myself time to take everything in, it didn’t bother me too much that the wannabe dish-magician’s imagined execution had no climactic centerpiece; it is all too real that he should loose this thought or choose another while trying to stay awake in tedious traffic.

I saw a screening of Du Levande with a very drowsy dose of the flu, and this might be why Andersson’s pasty-faced characters appealed to me so much. But I think I would have loved this movie in good health too. Furthermore, something tells me that additional viewings of  will reveal even deeper levels of human suffering and absurdity – enough to make both the happy and the sad think twice about their states of mind. I strongly recommend this film; though you might find yourself literally quite lost in the stories on screen, you will feel more alive in the aftermath.

Liz Licorish
LizFlix@ElitesTV.com