“I have a dilapidated piece of mahogany veneer in dire need of renovation.”

The British film Personal Services directed by ex-Monty Python Terry Jones is based on the book An English Madam by Paul Bailey. The film begins with a disclaimer stating that it is not a true depiction of the life of the infamous British Madam, Cynthia Payne (Madam Cyn) and advises the viewer to read Bailey’s book for details of Payne’s life.

The protagonist of the film is named Christine Painter (Julie Walters)–an attractive, harried waitress in a London restaurant. Christine has a child in boarding school whose fees must be paid, and so she earns extra money by renting out rooms and subletting flats to prostitutes. Now, the idea is that the prostitutes will pay Christine rent, but Christine soon discovers that collecting rent is easier said than done, and before too long, Christine faces her landlord empty-handed. The landlord, however, is fully prepared to make an acceptable alternative arrangement, and Christina slides into prostitution.

The film details Christine’s foray into the world of prostitution where she offers a “personal service” to those older gentlemen who are in need of her unique talents. Christine begins by advertising in the local newsagents and working from a tiny flat. But the “future lies in kinky people,” and so Christine–learning on the job–begins including role-playing assignations, and moves on to sex parties, and the infamous Luncheon Voucher Programme–which entitled the bearer of the coupon to a meal and a girl.

This funny film glosses over the seamier side of prostitution and concentrates, instead, on Christine’s unique worldview, and the community of friends and customers she surrounds herself with. Christine’s friendships provide a great deal of amusement in this film–numerous transvestites, slaves, fellow prostitute, Shirley (Shirley Stelfox) the maid, Dolly (Danny Schiller) and the immortal ‘Morten’–(a retired RAF Squadron Leader played by Alex McGowan) who declares that he intends to “grow old disgracefully” and delights and entertains many of Christine’s partygoers with his comic attitude. Morten, by the way, boasts that during WWII he “flew 207 missions over occupied territory in bra and panties.”

The film has its serious undertones. Christine is initially portrayed as someone who longs for a husband and a home, and her flat sports a tattered poster of that faux-fairy-tale relationship–Charles and Di. It’s darkly amusing that these now-fallen icons of romance oversee the financial arrangements of the kinky assignments taking place in Christine’s flat. And this motif of royal romance is something Christine aspires to–even though part of her realizes that it’s just a fantasy. Christine actually has a very matter-of-fact, no-nonsense approach to sex, declaring “too many things can go wrong with sex. Too many bits and pieces.”

Several scenes illustrate the hypocrisy of British society, and this seems to be the thing Christine despises above all else. She never forgets the former vice copper who approaches her for sex, and she sees the illegality of prostitution as hypocrisy. She argues that her sex parties are “just a Tupperware party, really, but I sell sex instead of plastic containers.” And Christine’s circle of friends and customers share her view. Wing Commander Morten embodies the liberation of sexuality, and he argues: “Since my retirement I have devoted my life to transvestitism and the pursuit of sexual deviation. I am now a very happy man, having escaped an extremely overcrowded closet.”

Julie Walters excels in this sort of role–her personality shines, and she takes the role of Christine Painter and makes it her own. The book An English Madam by Paul Bailey is highly recommended for further reading. In this book, Cynthia Payne’s early, difficult life is explained, and many of the details fill in the blanks. Additionally, the film Wish You Were Here is the story of Cynthia Payne’s early life. It’s another marvelous film, and I recommend it without reservation.

Some great lines:

“The world is full of naughty schoolboys.”

“Snap it up now before senile dementia runs me down.”

“I intend to grow old disgracefully.”

“What’s the point of being old if you can’t be dirty?”

“Every naughty boy gets a spank on his bot-bot.”

“How could you bring a sexual pervert to your sister’s wedding?”

“Call it an indulgence, Madame, of an aging pillock in the autumn of his days.”

“My sister’s marrying a cop. Silly cow.”

“What’s sex ever done for me? Up the duff at 16.”

“Get your knickers into gear.”

“Whenever I deal with something dirty, I always get a little soiled.”

Tight Spot AKA Dead Pigeon is a little known but surprisingly good crime film, loaded with excellent performances, strong dialogue, and a very tight script. If you’re a fan of 50s gangster films, then there’s a good chance you may enjoy this one

The film begins with the murder of a snitch–would-be government witness Tonelli is assassinated before he can start singing in the courtroom. With the government case against mobster Benjamin Costain (Lorne Greene) weakening, district attorney Lloyd Hallett (Edward G Robinson) arranges for the transportation of the only remaining possible witness, good-time girl Sherry Conley (Ginger Rogers) from the state prison to a swanky hotel room. Here Hallett hopes to convince Sherry to get up into that witness stand and testify against the brutal Costain. Hallett has two carrots to help entice Sherry to testify: he promises to cut the remaining eleven months of her original 5 year sentence, and he also lectures her about her “debt to society.”

Costain’s trial is due to begin Monday morning, and on Saturday Sherry is transferred without a word of explanation from the prison to the fancy hotel. Her escorts are a prison guard, Willoughby (Katherine Anderson), and a hardened cop Vince Striker (Brian Keith).

The film is based on a play and the film certainly maintains a tense claustrophobic atmosphere with its limited, mainly interior scenes and very controlled situations. Over the course of the weekend, Sherry is pressured to comply with Hallett’s request to testify, but wise-cracking, tough-talking Sherry has learned all about self-preservation. She’s not about to put her life on the line to ‘protect’ a society that’s largely screwed her over, and when it comes to the idea that she owes a debt to society, Sherry doesn’t see it that way at all. Sherry is portrayed by Ginger Rogers as a basically decent person whose Achilles’ Heel just happens to be men. As far as I’m concerned, Ginger Rogers stole the film from her very first scene when she lectures a new prison inmate about how to slack off inside (”See if you can’t think about this joint as a training ground for future life”). This is an important character-setting scene as it establishes that Sherry is no dummy, and she’s not a pushover either. She’s not about to break her back working in the prison to help facilitate a system she despises.

Locked in the hotel room, Sherry begins to build relationships with Willoughby and Striker. While Willoughby treats Sherry with compassion, natural adversaries Sherry and Striker eyeball each other warily. To Striker, Sherry is just a gangster’s dame, and to Sherry, Striker is another no-good cop put on the planet to harass her. As Sherry’s story becomes clear, she earns grudging respect from Striker, and they begin to see each other as three-dimensional human beings. When Sherry’s sister arrives on the scene, even the DA begins to feel sorry for his potential star witness.

One very clever element used in the film is the concurrent television charity marathon, which features a soulful, annoying crooner. Just as the crooner is locked into the weekend’s action, Sherry and her protectors are stuck too. Sherry, however, is fully aware that she’s a sitting duck, and she’s not about to let herself be used in anyone’s game–no matter the bribes she’s offered. Alienated from a society that’s taught her to be wary of any government offers, she’s interested in self-preservation–until caring about other people finally breaks through her brittle veneer. From director Phil Karlson.

Some lines from the film:

“You mean you brought me up here to let me be insulted by some cheap dame even if she is my sister.”

“I don’t suppose it would do any good to ask if my civil rights is being violated.”

“Look sister, I wouldn’t know styles if you shoved ‘em down my throat.”

“Men–they ought to trade themselves in for something a girl really needs.”

“And being a cop, you can’t imagine it might be a phony rap, could you?”

“I thought newspaper reporters were supposed to be drunk by this time on Saturday night.”

“Here’s to the men who blow up prisons.”

“You’ve no idea how utterly desirable you are to a girl.”

“Government officials bribing people. I thought it was the other way around.”

“Maybe it doesn’t pay to be an honest hardworking woman.”

“If you were a fuckknuckle all your life, that would be hell.”

“Not catching too many crims, are you?”

Noise is this month’s selection from the Film Movement DVD-of-the-month club. As I noted in an earlier post, foreign or independent films never arrive at my local cinema, and since I really enjoy the titles selected by Film Movement, I decided to sign on with their DVD club. Monthly membership works out to be less than the cost of two cinema tickets.

Noise from Australian writer/director Matthew Saville is nothing short of brilliant. That said, I will add that after watching this stunning film, I toodled across the Internet to see what reviewers were saying. I was surprised to read some lukewarm reviews of this wonderful film, but after chewing this over, I’ve decided that it’s due in part to the film’s theme, which is likely to attract a wide audience–some of whom may expect something a bit less elusive.

On one level, Noise follows the investigations of two crimes that occur around Christmas time in a working class suburb of Melbourne. Lavinia Smart (Maia Thomas) a young woman whose headphones blunt her sensory perceptions, enters a late night train only to discover a scene of carnage. The grisly bloody discovery of seven victims inside the train is followed the next day by the discovery of the body of a missing woman. While the community reels from these two tragedies, residents of Sunshine begin to wonder if the crimes are connected.

Meanwhile police Constable Graham McGahan (Brendan Cowell) is experiencing persistent ringing in his ears. His unsympathetic grumpy supervisor assigns McGahan the nightshift in a community police caravan parked near where the missing woman was last seen. McGahan is the first person to admit he isn’t much of a police officer. This is a career he’s drifted into, and perhaps that explains why he doesn’t fit the mold. Stuck with a humorless coworker and an unsympathetic boss who thinks McGahan is a slacker, this lackluster less-than-gung ho policeman sits out his shifts in the caravan. He’s supposed to mesh with the community, gather tips, and talk to possible witnesses, so he hands out flyers and condoms and interacts with various locals, “Lucky” Phil (Simon Laherty), the grief stricken fiancé of the murder victim, and an aggressive weirdo.

While the film ostensibly revolves around the solution to the murders, Noise is not a police procedural. Instead it’s a character study, and while the film seems to begin with the dilemma of Lavinia Smart, the plot very soon shifts to its protagonist McGahan. Terrified that he may have cancer, and waiting anxiously for a Dr’s report, McGahan hides his fears under a veneer of detachment, but he also fights feelings of alienation and self-pity. His hearing problem is literally and figuratively isolating McGahan from his girlfriend, but forced to sit out his shifts in the community caravan, various characters pierce through McGahan’s isolation.

Ultimately the film makes some strong yet elusively subtle comments about Australian society. This is a society in which seven people are randomly and rapidly slaughtered and a young woman simply disappears. Noise may connect us to other human beings–but it’s just that–noise–a substitute for human interaction and emotion. The film presents a world of isolation: a world in which the stronger pick on the weak, and the psychotic slaughter at will. McGahan’s physical problem may isolate him from his girlfriend, but it’s the emotional isolation in society that is far more dangerous.

The film emphasizes sound elements–and sometimes the lack of them–throughout the story. There are some terrific scenes in the film: at one point, for example, McGahan driven almost mad by the ringing in his ears turns on every machine in the house in order to generate enough sound to drown out the constant buzzing.

Those of us who prefer neat, clear and definitive endings may feel a certain amount of frustration at the film’s ambiguous conclusion. Personally, I loved the conclusion and I think the film addressed the meaning of the ending through textual references that occurred earlier in the plot.

If you enjoyed Lantana or Jindabyne, then there’s an excellent chance you’ll enjoy Noise. It’s truly a superb film. Anyway, for more info on FILM MOVEMENT go to www.filmmovement.com

Brief Encounter

The plot behind the film Mademoiselle is fairly standard, but it’s this film’s execution of a fairly familiar story that’s so excellent. Lovers of French film should enjoy Sandrine Bonnaire’s wonderful performance, and the plot’s refreshing, surprising moments.

Mademoiselle, a frame story from director Philippe Lioret, is the tale of Claire (Sandrine Bonnaire) a regional pharmaceutical saleswoman who attends a meeting far from home. Extremely attractive, she could chose to philander with her fellow sales reps, but married with two children, she seems committed to her sales goals and the company she works for.

While attending the sales meeting, she meets Pierre Cassini (Jacques Gamblin), Alice (Isabelle Candelier) and Karim (Zinedine Soualem) who are collectively a group of traveling improvisations actors employed for special events. Known as “The Unpredictables,” they typically infiltrate social occasions, and they assume improvised roles concocted as a result of the type of feedback from the crowd they mingle with. Claire is impressed by the trio’s skills, and circumstances throw them together. Placed in a situation in which they must improvise, Claire and Pierre find themselves improvising a relationship, and the relationship seems so natural it continues into the night.

Mademoiselle is listed as a romantic comedy. Well I’d sort-of agree with the romance part, but scratch the comedy. Claire is luminous as the responsible, ordered saleswoman who has a fling with a spontaneous, creative man who’s her opposite in so many ways. One senses that their relationship would not survive the day-to-day demands of real life, but in the narrow confines of 36 hours, both Claire and Pierre emerge changed by their experience. In French with subtitles.

“It would be wonderful to die of love.”

In the film, The Chambermaid on the Titanic French factory worker Horty (Oliver Martinez) wins the company’s annual contest of strength (once again), but this year, the prize is a bit different. Horty is sent to Southampton, England to watch the launching of the Titanic. At first, Horty’s wife, Zoe (Romane Bohringer) is thrilled because she thinks she will go too, but the prize is for Horty alone, so he leaves for Southampton, and Zoe stays at home.

Horty goes to the Southampton hotel where he is supposed to spend the night, and once inside his room, a beautiful young woman knocks on the door and asks if she can spend the night. Horty, at first refuses, but the young French woman appeals to his chivalrous side. The woman, Marie (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon), says she is a chambermaid on the Titanic. Since she’s due to sail tomorrow and just needs a place to sleep for the night, Horty lets her stay….

Upon returning to France, Horty is greatly changed. His wife notices his altered demeanor, and soon a sulkily distracted Horty is down at the pub with his fellow workers. Someone notices that he has a photograph of Marie, and soon everyone wants to know who she is and exactly what Horty’s relationship is with this beautiful mystery woman. Horty begins to tell stories about Marie, and although the stories begin with romance, Horty’s audience begins to demand the salacious details. Night after night Horty entertains his fellows with his erotic tales. The audience members are all workers whose drab hand-to-mouth existence leaves little energy or money at the end of the day. Horty’s tale of sexual passion with a passing stranger begins to represent the workers’ entertainment and their collective fantasies.

When news that the Titanic has sunk reaches the factory workers, they frenziedly request Horty’s story about Marie over and over again–and the situation becomes intolerable for Zoe. But a quirk of fate leads Horty to an acting career and he takes his stories to a wider audience. Shaped by a savvy, seasoned manager, Horty’s performance becomes more and more elaborate as his audience becomes more affluent.

The story is really about the blending–and collision–of fantasy and truth. Horty and his fellow workers have no glamour or fantasy in their bleak lives until Horty begins entertaining everyone with his stories. Soon it isn’t even important if the stories are true or blatant lies. What’s important is the ability to weave fantasy. But there is danger in fantasy–as Horty discovers–fantasy has a way of getting completely out-of-control, and when fantasy take over your life, does fantasy then become reality?

This is a very clever and unusual film from Spanish director Bigas Luna. It is perhaps one of the most haunting foreign films I’ve ever seen–a very unconventional romance–packed with good, solid acting, a script loaded with surprises, and splendid cinematography. If you enjoy this film I recommend two other films: Patrice Leconte’s The Hairdresser’s Husband and Girl on the Bridge.

“You’re young. Don’t bloody your hands.”

In the film A Little Bit of Freedom Turkish-born director Yuksel Yazuv explores the immigrant question through two young boys who are living illegally in Hamburg. Baran (Cadgas Bozkurt) from a war torn Kurdish village in Southeastern Turkey works at a small kebab café delivering food via bicycle for his boss. A cousin who also works at the café arranges this tenuous job after the death of Baran’s parents. Lonely and alienated, Baran meets Selim (Necmettin Cobanoglu)–an African teen who lives in a derelict flophouse. Selim has a shady arrangement with his brutal landlord to hand over a percentage of what he earns from street drug deals.

Baran and Selim meet casually in the street and strike up a friendship that grows stronger in adversity. Both young men lack the necessary papers that allow them to work, so they scrape a living the best way they can. Knowing that any clash with the ‘authorities’ will bring deportation, the two teens avoid the police like the plague. Baran and Selim have no future in Germany, but then they have no future in their ‘home’ countries either. Cast adrift, all they can do is tread water, eat, and survive, taking their lives one day at a time. Baran and Selim are in desperate straits–although Baran has a network of fellow Kurdish exiles to fall back on.

Naturally, with characters this desperate, the status quo isn’t stable for long. Denied political asylum, Baran’s one chance may come through marriage to his boss’s bratty, spoiled daughter. But Baran resists the relationship–even though she makes it clear that she’s interested.

Baran’s cousin, Haydar (Nazmi Kirik) is a PKK guerilla fighter, and old scores are revived one day when Baran meets a fellow Kurd in the street. As is customary, he takes the man back to the café to integrate him into the exile community, but this meeting sparks a chain of tragic events.

The film covers several social and topical issues–poverty, immigration, homosexuality and the political struggle between the PKK and Turkey–without trying to provide neat little answers. Perhaps the film’s most touching scene takes place when Baran goes to deliver some kebabs to a party. With Selim in tow, the two teenagers take the food to an apartment full of young people. The film subtly places Baran and Selim on the outside looking in at a type of social event they will never be able to enjoy. As Baran and Selim absorb the attitudes of the carefree partygoers, the unspoken realization that they will never have the luxury of being ‘normal’ teenagers weighs heavily in the air between these two outcasts. A Little Bit of Freedom is in German, Kurdish and Turkish. If you enjoy this film I also recommend Journey to the Sun–a film that examines the treatment of Kurds in Turkey.

Here’s my top ten (not including my own - which I liked quite a bit, I’ll admit)

BOB LE FLAMBEUR - Jean Pierre Melville does a French gangster film based on American gangster films - and it’s amazing.

 
MODERN ROMANCE - Albert Brooks is in my top 3 favorite directors - this is probably his best.

SLEEPER - you gotta have a Woody Allen movie. Sorry but his earlier funnier movies were better IMO.

THE GRAND ILLUSION - one of the greatest…. It’s always great to watch prisoners trying to escape.

WAGES OF FEAR - the greatest idea for a movie ever made: driving nitroglycerine over a mountain in a crappy old truck. Genius. Remade as Sorcerer and it still worked, even though it bombed.

BLUES BROTHERS - John Landis is the perfect comedy/music film director. This is a work of pure genius mostly written by Dan Aykroyd. “I hate Illinois state Nazis.”

THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT - The Who at their finest. Again, cinema and music go together so darn well. I can watch Keith Moon drum for hours.

TAXI DRIVER - I built a shrine to Scorsese during film school. I wish I still had it.

TREASURE OF SIERRA MADRE - I should have also built a shrine to John Huston. He directs his dad to an Oscar and solidifies an already brilliant career.

MAGNUM FORCE - and to Clint Eastwood, who’s got a really dark sense of humor. He and Don Siegel outdid Dirty Harry and got laughs in some very subtle places.

And three recent titles:

BONUS: THERE WILL BE BLOOD - PTA did a brilliant job of writing such an incredible character. DD Lewis is really darkly funny in the way he deals with religious nuts… Channeling John Huston, but it works.

IDIOCRACY - sadly overlooked Mike Judge. But it’s something to show your kids!

JACKASS - have you ever laughed harder in a movie? Then it’s a great comedy.

(Tribe says: I asked writer/director Michael Addis if he’d contribute a list of his favourite films to the blog, and here they are. If you are one of the few people on the planet who has not seen POOR WHITE TRASH, then do yourself a favour and watch it. For more information about Michael Addis and his films, visit www.michaeladdis.com)

“You’re hotter than doughnut grease.”

The premise of the very funny comedy film Poor White Trash is that poor people have to resort to crime in order to maintain that American dream of sending their children to college. It’s a “Robin Hood kind of thing” with the have-nots taking from a corrupt society that includes the embezzling manager of a retirement home and a nasty fast food restaurant.

College bound Michael Bronco (Tony Denman) and his nefarious chum Lenny Lake (Jacob Tierney) are caught stealing a six-pack of Near Beer from the local mini-mart, and as a result, Michael’s college plans seem destined for the toilet. An inept Public Defender bungles the case, and the lads realize they need a lawyer to get them out of the mess they’ve created. Lenny’s brilliant plan is to get his Uncle Ron (William Devane)–who owns the Land O’Law to represent them ‘pro-bono’ (Lenny says this is Spanish for ‘half-price’). Uncle Ron, “the best lawyer in town since he got out of jail” isn’t cheap, and so Michael and Lenny burglarize a neighbour’s trailer as a quick way to get cash. Soon the lads embark on a crime spree, and Michael’s mum, Linda (a deliciously cast Sean Young) forms an inept gang with Michael, Lenny, and Brian Ross (Jason London)–the son of the local sheriff (and Linda’s one-night stand).

Linda Bronco just wants to be a “normal mother,” but that’s not in the cards for this latter-day Ma Barker. In fact, there’s nothing normal in the entire film. Everyone lives in a trailer–even Uncle Ron–the legal eagle–who has made a formidable beer can sculpture garden to enhance his trailer’s attractiveness. And Uncle Ron has a pool–not quite the traditional idea of a pool–but a pool, nonetheless.

It’s the perfectly drawn characters in this film that make it so hilarious. Michael’s desire to be a psychologist runs as a standing joke, and Lenny treats his friend’s ideals with respect while noting “psychology causes people to have mental problems.” Michael’s dad is a pro-wrestler hoping for the cash to get a false eye–this is the one roadblock in scheduling a grudge match with an opponent. William Devane as sleazy lawyer Ron Lake plays the role to perfection–the clothes, the swagger, the jewelry–and don’t forget his t-shirt slogans–all add up to the lawyer who practices law with the intent of getting away with what he can. Ron Lake’s nymphette wife–the manipulative and grasping Sandy (Jaime Pressly) is the perfect complement to Ron.

But my favourite character of all the great characters in this film has to be Lenny Lake. His one-liners, antics, and faulty logic–along with the looks he casts–simply make this film one of my all-time favourite comedies. Poor White Trash is crude at times, has no socially redeeming values, and no moral message, but the film doesn’t compromise on laughs. The script is deceptively clever and moves along rapidly from the first hilarious scene at the mini-mart right up to the finale. From director Michael Addis.

Favourite lines:
“It ain’t your job to execute shoplifters.”

“I am not robbing some place with my mother.”

“For your information, my life is in the toilet.”

“You’re grounded–with the exception of your trial.”

“If you use the word angst in prison, you’ll have a five car pile up on your Hershey highway.”

“Sometimes the best way to deal with depression is to drink.”

“Disrespect me, and I’ll break it off and beat you with it.”

“Anyone fucks with us, they’ll be eating hot rifle grease.”

“Mikie, I’m a bad mother. Go to college, get good grades and write to me in jail.”

“Paris has got the Eiffel Tower and a few other things.”

When I asked filmmaker Brian Standing for a list of his favorite documentaries, I knew it would be a welcome addition to the Phoenix Cinema site. But beyond that, I had a selfish motive. I was hoping that I’d pick up tips for films I’d never seen. And so that brings me to This Is Nowhere–an excellent documentary that made Brian Standing’s list, and a film I tracked down and watched.

Concentrating on motor home campers who park their behemoth vehicles in Wal-Mart parking lots across the U.S., in This is Nowhere director Doug Hawes-Davis turns a sharp eye on one of the more bizarre aspects of American culture through his interviewees who are camped out on the cement in the Wal-Mart in Missoula, Montana.

I don’t understand the allure of motor homes, and to me, setting out driving one of these things across the U.S. would be a special kind of hell–a sort of No Exit scenario. So when I heard about the premise of This is Nowhere–well…I knew I had to see the film.

On one level This is Nowhere records the ruminations of an assortment of Americans who have taken to the road in various gigantic motor homes. For some of the interviewees who’ve sold their homes, this is a permanent way of life, and one camper rather whimsically refers to himself as a “gypsy.” Another man compares his travels to the expeditions of Lewis and Clark. These American travelers wax forth about what it means to be “free” on the road–driving from one destination to another.

On another level, the film captures some intriguing observations about American culture–a culture in which the modern pioneer spirit, and the pursuit of travel and adventure are distilled down to the predictability of selecting Wal-Mart as an ultimate travel destination. These intrepid campers pursue the familiarity and comfort of Wal-Mart stores to the farthest reaches of this corporate chain. An interviewee admits that shopping in Wal-Mart consumes a large amount of their free time, and the first thing the travelers do upon arrival is park and hit the Wal-Mart. One traveler marvels at the “freedom” the motor home offers by granting a change of views–while admiring the hills, she tends to overlook the fact that she’s parked on the tarmac in front of a Wal-Mart. Right next to that view of those beautiful hills is a brightly lit sign on the horizon blazing away the name ‘Wal-Mart.’ But apparently Wal-Mart–and the comfort to be rediscovered in its variations of the familiar–offers a seemingly safe predictability to the travelers in this documentary. So why not just drive around in circles and keep visiting your hometown Wal-Mart?

Naturally all of those interviewed are Wal-Mart customers and fans. One interviewee finds the fact that his Wal-Mart shoes fell apart in a month a miracle in customer satisfaction. My reaction would be to feel annoyed at the low quality, but this optimistic fellow has the perseverance to acquire a series of ten pairs of free shoes from Wal-Mart as each subsequent pair falls apart. On another note, one traveler buried his cat in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Mexico.

With satellite dishes (in one case, a traveler has no less than four satellite dishes–just in case), multiple televisions and large comfy chairs, the motor home creates an ambulatory, easeful, yet oddly passive travel experience. The travelers (who often seem confused as to which state they are in) jumble memories of trips as images of numerous Wal-Marts merge. Sitting in their plastic chairs on the concrete Wal-Mart parking lot, life passes by, offering a kaleidoscope of images, and theoretically a change in accents. But isn’t travel about seeing and experiencing new things? Silly me, I thought those were some of the goals. But This is Nowhere subtly argues that travel has become a end in itself and by extension that the American travel experience is eroded and replaced by the predictability of urban design. These travelers express how the memories of the towns converge–one town looks pretty much like another with the obligatory shopping center layout and predictable corporate businesses. And of course this is where Wal-Mart comes in. Armed with their special Wal-Mart Rand McNally maps, these motor home owners travel the US from one Wal-Mart to another in the cocoon worlds created by their ambulatory residences.

 ”Know what makes a criminal?”

Seesaw is a British television miniseries, divided into three parts, that explores the kidnapping of a teenage girl. Well-to-do business owner Morris Price (David Suchet) lives with his decorator wife, Val (Geraldine Price) and their three children in a huge sprawling house in the suburbs. Things have not always been easy for the Prices, but Morris has built his security business from the bottom up. When the film begins, the Prices pose in front of son Theo’s (Joseph Beattie) flashy sports car for a photograph.

Naturally, there’s rot inside the family structure, but it’s largely covered by material wealth. Val is harried by job demands and catering to clients, and she doesn’t have a great deal of time for her children. The Prices’ middle child Hannah (Joanna Potts) has a tendency to feel sorry for herself. She’s at an awkward age. Spotty and without a boyfriend, she considers herself fat and unattractive. She also feels resentful towards her parents and is convinced, at least on some level, that she’s neglected.

One evening, instead of doing homework, Hannah goes off to a nightclub, and she doesn’t return home….

About one third of the film is devoted to the kidnapping, and the family’s reactions to the kidnappers’ demands. The rest of the film is devoted to the far more interesting fallout. The film follows not only how the Prices cope, but also what happens to the kidnappers. The kidnappers are a mismatched pair–there’s the complex, dangerous, seductive Eva (Amanda Omms) who really belongs on the set of La Femme Nikita, and her somewhat unwilling but sexually entranced cohort Jon (Neil Stuke). Eva’s alarming obsession with tarty outfits is matched by her desire for material gain.

The film’s fault lies in some of the truly awful lines connected to the entire kidnapping/Stockholm Syndrome episode. Cheesy, clumsy, and clichéd, this section of the film–delivered in flashbacks–was enough to make me wince (I love you so much I could peel you inside out and lick your intestines. I know the real you, etc etc). That said, the film really excels at portraying the ugly dynamics of the Price family. Hannah’s kidnapping, for example, brings out the sibling rivalry between Hannah and her younger bratty sister Becky (Jade Davidson). As corrosive blame and guilt for the kidnapping and its fallout spreads throughout the family members, the family structure disintegrates. Just how the Prices cope with the aftermath of the kidnapping is original and believable.

Fans of British television mysteries should enjoy this drama. It certainly doesn’t follow the hackneyed plots of this type of story. Seesaw is directed by George Case and based on a novel by Deborah Moggach.