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"The Rocket" Blasts towards the 86th Academy Awards

Palm fronds swaying in the breeze, moon-lit mountains, petal-strewn altars: Laos may be the most paradisical place on Earth. But this paradise harbors a darker superlative: At nearly 80 million cluster bombs (minus the 500,000 that have been cleared), it's the most bombarded country per capita in history.

rocketposterLaos's beauty and bête noire are on full view in Kim Mordaunt's redemptive tale, The Rocket. The Laotian-Australian production centers on 10-year-old Ahlo, an artful operator who is born under a bad omen as a twin. Ahlo is held culpable for his family's accruing misfortunes as they're forced off their land to make way for the construction of hydro-electric dams by an Australian corporation. To overcome his jinx, Ahlo sets his eyes on the prize at the Rocket Festival. This rambunctious Spring ceremony, rooted in a traditional phallic rite, entails firing rockets at the sky deities to bring on the rainy season. 

One of the most memorable scenes in The Rocket plunges us underwater as Ahlo discovers buddha heads, wat ruins and sundry village detruitus that have sunken with the dam project. "It's a foreboding of what was about to happen to this ancient community and also what was going to happen to his mother," explained Mordaunt. Shot in a real hydroelectic lake, this haunting sequence anticipates the literal and figurative submerging of local culture, or what Mordaunt described as the "ghosting of their traditions by this Australian-Lao dam."

Behind this saga of dislocation lurk digs at today's economic aggression and its eerie echoes of the American strafings that drove a million Laotian peasants from their homes during the Vietnam War. Mordaunt probed the lingering fallout from that campaign in his 2007 documentary Bomb Harvest.

With his fiction debut, the Australian writer-director now takes aim at Australia's dealings that he believes threaten to destroy indigenous Asian traditions and resources. "Australia does a lot of ethical business in Asia, but a lot of unethical business as well," he told Film Festival Traveler. Lamenting that developers are currently planning 52 dams across Laos, he stated, "That's really why I made the film -- I could see what was happening in 
Laos and elsewhere in Asia."

The Rocket, like its young hero, is out to reverse a curse. Happily, though, Mordaunt resists all temptation to AhloBlossomspreach. This makes The Rocket a far more cheerful experience than its war-torn landscape and unkindly taboos might suggest. Mordaunt is making a statement, but his bully pulpit is adorned with blossoms. An especially lyrical example is Ahlo's friendship with Kia (Loungnam Kaosainam), which begins as the 9-year-old orphan literally rains down purple flowers on him from her perch in a tree.

Both fledglings revel in adventure while allowing audiences a close view of tender sorrows. Played by former street urchin SitthiphonKiDisamoe, Ahlo blends pathos and pluck with such naturalism it's sure to leave a nick. That Ki's performance would be so raw wasn't apparent from the outset of his new acting gig. At first Mordaunt "couldn't get to the core of his emotions," he recalled. "I thought, this guy is never going to open up because he's learned to protect himself on the street. It was only when the director shared that he too had lost a parent at age 10, like Ahlo, that Kai started to "talk about his losses" and to reveal emotion.

Mordaunt's ode to fallibility advances another unsung hero, Kia's Uncle Purple. The man who plays him, Thep The-RocketPhongam, is a veteran Thai-Lao entertainer; he's also the only professional actor in the cast. Inspired by a Laotian villager that the director had met while making Bomb Harvest, this spiky war veteran fought alongside the CIA and displays a weakness for James Brown and liquor. He is both a wise man and a fool, an avatar -- like the ubiquitous explosives -- of conflict and a Laotian hippie who wields his ostracism as social critique. Both Purple and Ahlo recognize their pariah link, yet the older man's dysfunction ignite the boy's fuse to rocket towards something higher.

The Rocket, with its totems and taboos, makes for a feast of archetypes and aphorisms. Garnished with humor and soul, it makes up in humanity what it may lack in narrative simplicity. "Lao culture is full of folklore," said Mordaunt, "so we decided we'd give the film a fable-like quality."

Armed with awards garnered at such fests as the Berlinale and the Tribeca Film FestivalAustralia's submission to the 2014 foreign-language Oscar pool has resonated with cinephiles in various countries, though it has yet to be screened in Laos. Mordaunt was hardly surprised that it didn't clear that country's censorship board. "The dam issue is very, very political; it's worth hundreds of millions of dollars," he noted. But he has no regrets. "The Lao-Australian community didn't want to make a piece of propaganda."

Film Review: "Diana"

"Diana"
Directed by Oliver Hirschbiegel
Starring Naomi Watts, Naveen Andrews, Douglas Hodge, Cas Anvar, Daniel Pirrie, Charles Edwards, Geraldine James
Biography, Drama, Romance
113 Mins
PG-13

A princess locked away in her castle has never been quite as dull as in Diana. Even her knight in shining armor is a touchy troglodyte, so petrified of being in the public eye that he'd sooner bury his passion under a callused doctoral turtle shell than mumble "I love you" one more time. Diana keeps telling us to root for this unlikely and spotted relationship and yet we see it clearly for how fickle and irrevocably broken it is, eviscerating all emotional attachment and leaving its audience with cold feet.

While Diana the woman was a visionary humanitarian, Diana the movie is blind to its own half-baked inconsequentiality - a relic of biography as bore that has no place in the rom-com market it nearly exists in. A shining example of the tail wagging the dog, Diana is tugged through the mud with its lackluster "universal love story" front and center, a mistakenly proud icon of this flunky biopic.

Rather than focusing on Princess Diana's chest of civil achievements, Oliver Hirschbiegel contends himself with this turkey of a love story. In doing so, he misses out on establishing historical interest and wholly makes us wonder why he choose to make a film about Diana at all since this lame love story could have belonged to pretty much anyone else.

Read more: Film Review: "Diana"

Film Review: "Thor: The Dark World"

"Thor: The Dark World"
Directed by Alan Taylor
Starring Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston, Natalie Portland, Stellan Skarsgård, Anthony Hopkins, Christopher Eccleston, Jaimie AlexanderZachary Levi, Ray Stevenson, Tadanobu Asano, Idris Elba, Kat Dennings, Chris O'Dowd
Action, Adventure, Fantasy
112 Mins
PG-13

Between Chris Hemsworth's washboard abs and the FX razzle-dazzle signature of Marvel's brand, Thor: The Dark World uses blinding awesomeness to cast shade on its portended plotting. First and foremost a Marvel movie, this second (or third if you're counting The Avengers) outing for the God of Thunder rounds all of the superhero studio's likely bases, but a gilded touch from Game of Thrones director Alan Taylor helps bring an epic scope to the proceedings. Far exceeding the first film in terms of visual panache and high stakes action beats, the crowning gem of the Thor camp continues to be Tom Hiddleston's Loki. Deviant, seething, and locked away for treason, Loki may not be as much of a focal point as he was as the big baddie in The Avengers but he persists in being the most complex and unpredictable character in Marvel's stable.

This time around, Thor lacks the megalomaniacal egoism of the first installment, his (massively sized) head distracted by the clout of his lost love, Jane Foster (Natalie Portman), waiting for him back on Earth two years after Thor's first departure. But a new evil stirs in the Dark Elves, a race that predates all living beings, warriors born of darkness (whatever that means) and intent on bringing all nine realms back under their control, demanding Thor and his (named) hammer's attention.

Read more: Film Review: "Thor: The Dark World"

CD Review: Paul McCartney—New (Hear Music)

Whenever Paul McCartney puts out a new album, the usual trolls come out of the woodwork to tell us that he’s done, he’s over the hill, he hasn’t done anything good since Band on the Run, he hasn’t done anything good since the Beatles broke up, he never did anything good, he should have stayed “dead.” Har har.

 

 
Of course, some of this nastiness is self-inflicted since McCartney is sometimes his own worst enemy: saccharine songs like “My Love,” “Ebony and Ivory” and “Freedom” are what detractors trot out when they try to knock him down. But for those listening closely to a half-century’s worth of music know better, and a new album, cheekily titled New, provides more ammunition.
 
For his first album of entirely original material in five years—his superb 2008 Fireman collaboration with producer Youth, Electric Arguments, was preceded by a solid 2007 solo album Memory Almost Full—McCartney sought out outside producers, deciding to keep it partly in the “family” by having Beatles producer George Martin’s son, Giles Martin, to be executive producer. Of the album’s 16 tracks—12 official songs and 4 extra tracks, depending on the configuration one gets—Martin produced 7, with Paul Epworth producing 4, Mark Ronson 2 and Ethan Johns 3.
 
But as always with McCartney, his own musical vision and personality add up to a wholly cohesive album despite the disparate musical personalities he worked with. When 1997’s Flaming Pie was produced by Jeff Lynne—who made a cottage industry of turning the likes of George Harrison, Tom Petty and the Travelling Wilburys into sound-alikes—I was worried that Paul too would become Lynne-lite. Instead, Flaming Pie is the only Jeff Lynne-produced album that happily retains its own character.
 
So New, while shot through with an aural eclecticism courtesy of his four collaborators, remains a McCartney record through and through. The opening “Save Us,” a straight-ahead riff rocker, and the bouncy “Queenie Eye,” a hummable piano-driven sing-along, were both helmed by Epworth, along with “Road,” a dramatic ballad that falls just short of bombast. Those are the only songs where McCartney takes a co-writing credit (with Epworth): apparently they were improvised in the studio by the two men.
 
The rest of New is a glorious mélange of styles and sounds that finds Paul at his most effortlessly melodic and adventurous. The title tune is a joyous love song harkens back to “Penny Lane”-era Beatles, “Hosanna” and “Looking at Her” marry naked emotions with sly arrangements, while the haunting piano ballad “Scared” (relegated to “hidden cut” status) shows Paul opening up in a way rare for him. On these songs—none of them in any sense “silly love songs”—Paul sings in the plaintive, cracking voice of a 71-year-old, which fits with their melancholic but hopeful optimism.
 
On “Alligator,” “Appreciate” and “Struggle,” Paul’s Avant-pop leanings show through in the intricately busy rhythms, but those who say that he’s trying to keep up with contemporary sounds hasn’t been listening to albums like McCartney II (“Temporary Secretary,” “Secret Friend” and “Check My Machine”), Press to Play (“Pretty Little Head”) and Flowers in the Dirt (“Ou Est le Soleil?”)—to just pick three from the decade of the ‘80s—where Paul mashes up rhythm tracks and tape loops with heavily processed vocals: it’s just Paul being Paul.
 
This wouldn’t be a McCartney album without an explicit nod to that other band he was in (no, not Wings): the earnest acoustic number “Early Days” harks back to when the Fab Four scrambled for gigs long before they were on top of the world. But on an album so consistently good, even filler like “Everybody Out There,” “I Can Bet” and “Get Me Out of Here” remains cheeky fun. On New, McCartney composes and performs with nothing to prove: he loves what he does, and he’ll keep doing it until the end.

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