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Ray Pride

By Ray Pride Pride@moviecitynews.com

Joshua (2007, ***)

joshua_benoit_debie_489.jpgDocumentarian George Ratliff’s fiction debut, Joshua, a variation on any number of bad seed-born-to-good-folk terrors, such as The Good Son and The Omen, does one thing very right in its cruel, clockwork machinations: the hiring of Benoit Debie as cinematographer. Debie’s work on Gaspar Noé’s Irreversible (2002), Lucile Hadzihalilovic’s Innocence (2004) and especially, Julia Loktev’s minimalist Day Night Day Night (currently in release), is stellar. While Sam Rockwell and Vera Farmiga do the so-simple-I-can’t-fool-a-kid turn to a whimpering T, and Jacob Kogan as the 9-year-old savant-of-slaughter and “weird son” by his own description, who boasts one of the scariest sets of bangs in recent movies and kittens up a lot against his gay, composer uncle (Dallas Roberts), and the pains inflicted on a newborn would never be allowed against a pet in an American movie, Debie’s light-flooded interiors, sly camera moves and inventively chosen focal lengths, convey moneyed Manhattan and privileged Brooklyn in a memorable mood of dread. (The editing is unpredictable as well, not in a jump-out-from-behind-the-door way, but in an unsettling one that’s a few frames sudden or elongated.) The ending is one of those rare ones that makes you reevaluate everything come before: when you realize one character’s motivation, the punchline to a song sung by a child (and written by Dave Matthews!), may make you first exclaim in surprise, and then perhaps, in frustration at the grotesquerie of the implications. Ratliff and co-writer David Gilbert have to know that the twist ending is much more than suggestive and will be more than noxious to a large percentage of its potential upscale audience. (Is this the movie’s selling point? The controversial ending you’re dying to give away?) Rockwell’s pretty terrific, despite his character’s stupidity, and Celia Weston is dreadfully good as fundamentalist grandma: she’s a fine enough actress not to mind playing a hateful character. (Much of the three-star rating I’ll attribute to Rockwell and to the look of the film.) [Ray Pride.]

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It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.

~ David Simon