This feature documentary from first-time filmmaker Shaina Koren Allen follows the Miami Heat Wheels on their journey towards the National Wheelchair Basketball Association Championship.
The Rebound hits all the standard sports-doc beats, with plucky underdogs overcoming adversity in their quest for success, but the film’s real MVP is the inspiring team it portrays. The Miami Heat Wheels boasts a cast of engaging and entertaining characters, who talk openly and honestly about their experiences. The film focuses on three: Jeremie, a young man born with spina bifida, who is also pursuing a musical career in hip hop; Orlando, who was shot during an attempted kidnapping and now hopes a basketball scholarship will be the key to getting into college; and Mario, who after a shooting turned his back on his criminal past and devoted himself body and soul to basketball.
The film’s focus is deeply personal, giving the audience some highly emotional insights into the issues faced by those with disabilities and the impact it has on their everyday lives. It is also a joy to see the confidence that wheelchair basketball gives these men, and how the sport can open so many opportunities in other areas, such as higher education.
In regards to the nuts and bolts, the film is well shot and cut together, with the players’ stories brought to life with some cinematic scenes, while the games sequences are well-paced for maximum energy and tension.
The film might have benefited from a little more social and political context; relevant issues like state funding for wheelchair sports and America’s gun violence epidemic are only touched upon, and there’s precious little female perspective. But perhaps keeping the story focused on the team, its struggles and its successes, plays to the film’s strengths.
It might not be reinventing the wheel, but The Rebound is a heartening and inspiring watch, and definitely not just for sports fans.
Sexist, backhanded compliments are a sure-fire way to impress a woman in 2018; a sentiment that Punchline relishes in tearing apart. A woman’s basketball practice is interrupted by a man who tells her that she plays as well as a man. For the following few minutes, Punchline focuses on the appropriate reaction to such a comment. It is a premise that works perfectly for a short format, but not one that particularly holds room for development into a longer piece. To serve the agenda, the characters do not succeed a single dimension, though are played wisely by actors Molly McNerney and Bill Evans.
Despite it’s brief running time, Punchline succeeds in entertaining, carefully sidestepping the trap of the “bait and switch” structure most short films favour. The plot relies on an inherently cinematic trope – a protagonist imagines what they wish they could say or do, before it is revealed what actually happened. A technique used particularly strongly in films like Ben Stiller’s The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, writer/director Zen Kiddo takes things a step further. Defining the polish term “Jouska” at the beginning of the film, Kiddo is able to repeat the inciting event not just once but multiple times, allowing the protagonist to determine which of her many options was the correct response to have.
Unapologetic and more than a little relevant, Kiddo’s film is a testament to a rightfully prevailing attitude in cinema, and the western world in general. Female characters who aren’t defined by their male screen partners are a scarcity in film, but film’s like this are a step in the right direction. Perhaps one day a woman will be able to play basketball without the insufferable comments of a man, but until then we’re happy to see said woman fighting back. Indicating Kiddo’s knowledge and ability, Punchline wears it’s influences proudly on it’s sleeve, or printed on it’s basketball in this case. As short films go, this one is very much worth the few minutes of play time, even if you can guess the ending by reading the title.
The latest addition to Adrian Buitenhuis’s ‘I AM…’ series provides an intimate look at the life of Paul Walker, the Hollywood actor who was tragically killed in a car accident in 2013. Walker shot to fame as Brian O’Conner in the Fast and Furious franchise, and gained a huge following, mainly made up of screaming girls desperate for a smile from the blonde haired, blue eyed heartthrob. However, this documentary shows that there was much more to Walker than good looks. His friends and family touchingly remember Paul as a devoted family man, who was willing to do anything for those close to him.
Buitenhuis brings us home videos of Paul from a young age, and it is clear why his angelic looks made him a desirable candidate for commercials. We watch as he grows into an adult, and the way his life changed when he realised he was going to be a father in his early 20s. Acting was never a passion for Walker, rather a way to make ends meet, and we watch as he struggles to balance his work with his home life. After the birth of his daughter, Meadow, he became devoted to being a present father that he sacrificed a lot of his professional obligations. He distanced himself from the spotlight and began spending time working with sharks, which he said was the happiest time of his life
What is striking about Walker is how much he was loved. When he died, we all witnessed the devastation from the fans of Fast and Furious, but his friends and family describe the pain of losing someone who was so kind and genuine that it was almost to his detriment. Tyrese Gibson heartbreakingly describes his late friend as “the nicest man on human feet”.
The candid interviews and the never-before-seen footage of Walker behind the scenes, with those he was closest to, provides a moving and intimate look at an actor who was private, and therefore difficult to understand. Rather than focusing on a sparkling selection of A-list friends, Buitenhuis interviews people that have known Paul for the longest, who knew him before the fame, and therefore were most important to him. It doesn’t concentrate so much on the actor, rather the father, the son and the best friend, and that’s what makes this such a touching film.
Penny (Adjoa Andoh) is struggling. Due to cutbacks at work she is close to losing the facilities in which her special needs group practices and performs. At home her husband and son are facing debilitating conditions of their own. House Finch covers a day in the life of a woman who gives freely and willingly but doesn’t receive the support she so desperately desires.
A couple years back I had the pleasure of reviewing director, Joe Johnson’s previous short film, Something Blue. Melancholic without suffering through melodrama, the seven-minute piece focussed on a conversation in the kitchen between a man and a woman. We were given hints at a deeper history and glimpse of emotional scars struggling to heal. As a follow up, House Finch continues with these themes and leans harder into the lives we encounter.
https://vimeo.com/284642640
Adjoa Andoh is excellent here as Penny. She manages to leave an impression through a nuanced, naturalistic performance. As with Mark Gillis’ Sink from earlier this year, House Finch deflects the usual “misery porn” trappings by virtue of its performances. We believe in Penny and feel for her. Her struggles are something we can all understand to a degree, and the intimacy she shares with her family are both familiar and painful. The film ends with a striking visual that appears to be representative of the internal anguish of the protagonist. There is a poetry to our parting glance that leaves us with an ambiguous sight of the future. Without further time with Penny it’s this uncertainty that the audience is left with, and that is no small statement to make.
The only element I struggled with was the score which is a touch too heavy-handed for my taste. Lacking the subtlety so readily available within the dialogue and photography, the music really wants us to know how to feel at key points. That aside, House Finch is another fine work from Johnson who again situates the audience in the midst of stirring turmoil. I left this short wondering what was next for Penny and her family. Perhaps that’s the greatest compliment one can pay to a well written and effectively performed character.
Who doesn’t love a good film noir? There is something very special about the films that dominated Hollywood in the 1940s and early 1950s. Classics like ‘Double Indemnity’, ‘Sunset Boulevard’, ‘The Big Sleep’, ‘The Maltese Falcon’ and ‘The Third Man’ are hailed as some of the greatest movies of the era, and while the genre was very much of its time, the passion for it lives on, with noir themes influencing mainstream Hollywood productions even today. Films such as ‘L.A. Confidential’, ‘The Nice Guys’ and ‘Memento’ all contribute to the ongoing success of the genre, with varying generations of audiences.
Tom Konkle’s independent feature ‘Trouble Is My Business’ isn’t simply influenced by noir, but rather fully embraces it. The film is essentially one big homage to the time, created by a filmmaker with a clear passion for the material. It’s unashamedly a tribute to film noir itself, complete with all the genre tropes we’ve come to expect as well as particularly atmospheric cinematography.
The plot is a familiar one. Konkle himself plays Roland Drake, a private detective whose life is turned around when a young dame asks him for help. There is no need to go further into the plot here, mainly due to spoilers but largely because it’s exactly what you might expect from a film such as this. All the clichés are there; the PI, the femme fatale(s), the over-the-top dialogue, theatrical lighting, a good use of shadows. The film can be viewed in colour or black-and-white, but the latter is clearly the preferred option, despite being post-converted. The black-and-white simply suits the style of film we’re watching. One can’t help but wonder whether colour would actually have been particularly overbearing.
The production design is gorgeous and actually quite respectable for such an independent project. Everyone involved has clearly poured their heart and soul into ensuring the film stands out. It appears to be a cross between ‘Chinatown’, ‘Sin City’ and the video game ‘L.A. Noire’. Overall it works, but there are times when it isn’t quite as successful. The film uses a mixture of real locations and green screens, and sadly the latter sticks out like a sore thumb. It can sometimes look cartoonish, which is perhaps expected for such a budget, but it may have been a sensible idea to let go of that element completely and focus solely on the practical sets. It’s not a big enough problem to take enjoyment away from the film, but it’s certainly worth mentioning.
The cast are all charismatic enough and they do well with the material. The dialogue is witty, of-the-time, and mostly played for laughs. The comedic timing is well-judged, even if it can come across as cheesy on occasion. Konkle does a competent job in the leading role, but it might have been a better decision to focus solely on direction and cast somebody else as Drake. He’s not quite skilled enough to carry a film in which he features in almost every shot, but he does well with what he has and he’s clearly having a wonderful time with it.
The film might be a tad too long. Closing in on 2 hours, the twists and turns become a little much and the novelty of the film isn’t enough to carry it through to the end credits. Many classics of the era weren’t quite so long, and one can’t help but notice that ‘Trouble Is My Business’ simply doesn’t have enough ideas to warrant the minutes.
However, on the whole, this is a particularly enjoyable film that should please all genre lovers looking for an escape. It’s fairly admirable that the filmmakers would attempt something so ambitious for an independent production, and for the most part, they’ve pulled it off. This success is down to a clear passion behind the camera, and the obvious amount of work that went into the execution. It’s a nostalgic tribute to the classic days of Hollywood and it’s one that is sure to entertain.
Perhaps it is a little too long, the green screen can be off-putting at times, and Konkle might not be the most convincing lead, but the production design is far better than it should have been, the dialogue is particularly clever, the shot composition is inventive and the score is very fitting. It’s a fun homage to the days of old, and a respectable piece of independent cinema, even if it isn’t necessarily without its flaws.
