When poultry is not a paltry matter
The beguiling documentary “Chicken People” proves that truth is not only stranger than fiction but often more poignant and illuminating as well. This reallife “Best in Show,” directed by Nicole Lucas Haimes, follows a trio of competitors in the National Poultry Show who are driven to breed and raise exotic chickens through a mixture of passion, love, obsession and patient planning.
The film is a deep dive into this unique world of competitive show chickens, and Haimes has found the perfect subjects in breeders Brian Knox, Brian Caraker and Shari McCollough, who are warm, quirky and open.
Caraker is a singer in Branson, Mo., following his showbiz dreams while tending to his farm-boy heart with his chickens — creatures that provided an escape from the hell of high school.
Knox is an engineer who directs his intellect and love of systems to chicken breeding, a hobby he’s pursued since boyhood.
McCollough is a homemaker and mom of five who finds peace from a troubled childhood and addiction issues through her birds.
Haimes also interviews other competitors, coloring in the unique humanity of the participants, who are equally chicken-crazy.
But the film proves to be more than just a glimpse into a world that’s easy to titter at. Haimes delves into the larger issues and psychological motivations that drive the kind of obsession that allows one to breed award-winning poultry.
Welcome to the wonderful world of “Chicken People.” — Katie Walsh “Chicken People.” Not rated. Running time: 1 hour, 23 minutes. Playing: Laemmle Monica Film Center, Santa Monica.
Music rise from the garbage heap
The irresistible story of the Recycled Orchestra has been told many times, on “60 Minutes” and in news reports around the world — its basics, anyway: On the impoverished edges of a landfill near Paraguay’s capital, kids have been taught to play violins, cellos, flutes and drums, all crafted from garbage.
The documentary “Landfill Harmonic” is a welcome look behind the inspirational headlines and their occasionally loose grasp of detail. Case in point: It’s not the musicians who turn oil cans into cellos and X-rays into drumheads but an amiable genius named Nicolas “Colá” Gomez, whose screen time in the film is one of its chief delights.
Though it sometimes loses its melodic flow, the documentary (directed by Brad Allgood and Graham Townsley, with co-direction by Juliana Penaranda-Loftus) is a testament to spirited determination. The filmmakers offer intimate glimpses of life in Cateura, where many residents make their living as gancheros, sorting out the landfill’s reusable stuff from the mountains of trash.
Not just skimmed over but ignored is the matter of the group’s financial survival, no small detail in a town beset by poverty and environmental degradation. Whether founder and conductor Favio Chávez has found deep-pocketed donors or is involved in constant fundraising efforts, the film offers no clue. But it leaves no doubt that Chávez’s visionary cause is one to celebrate. — Sheri Linden “Landfill Harmonic.” In Spanish and English with English subtitles. Not rated. Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes. Playing: Laemmle Monica Film Center, Santa Monica; Laemmle Playhouse 7, Pasadena.
A fierce fighter for her people
The equally inspiring and enraging documentary “100 Years” emerges as a portrait of one remarkable rabblerouser, the late Native American activist Elouise Cobell.
If you’re unfamiliar with the 21st century plight of Native Americans at the hands of the U.S. government, prepare to get mad and ask questions. That’s exactly what Cobell, a Blackfeet woman and banker from Montana, did when she realized that the trust managed by the government to manage the leasing of Native American lands for natural resources appeared to have some murky accounting practices.
It turns out they were illegal and exploitative of a vulnerable, poverty stricken population who were beholden to the paternalistic government practices that expected them to be “good little Indians.” Cobell, the great-granddaughter of Blackfeet warrior Mountain Chief, filed a class-action lawsuit against the federal government on behalf of her people and their ancestors. The litigation and legislative fight lasted from 1996 to 2009.
At a swift 76 minutes, “100 Years” (the title refers to the time Native Americans lived under the conditions of the trust), director Melinda Janko efficiently communicates both the endless legal battle and the frustrating bureaucratic red tape but also the human elements of the story. It illustrates Cobell’s motivation in her dedication to this cause and the urgency with which she fought her battle against the government. It’s a maddening but ultimately uplifting tale about a fearless woman who fought tirelessly for her people. — Katie Walsh “100 Years.” Not rated. Running time: 1 hour, 16 minutes. Playing: Laemmle Monica Film Center, Santa Monica.
Complications derail love story
Well-intentioned and earnest, “The Gemini” is the type of film that you want to succeed. It openly rails against its native Myanmar’s laws against homosexuality, presenting a love story between two men with genuine emotion. But this melodrama struggles with serious postproduction issues and an unnecessarily complex story, losing any of its intended impact in the process.
“The Gemini” begins with the sound of a bed creaking and pounding against the wall, with a slow pan to the sheets pooling on the floor. Two men swing their legs into view, introducing a central romance that is illegal in Myanmar.
The film cuts to a cold discussion between Thit Wai (Okkar Min Maung) and his wife, Honey (Aye Myat Thu). Honey is shattered when she soon learns her husband’s plane has crashed, and an unfamiliar man shows up at the funeral claiming to be his college friend Nay Thit (Nyein Chan Kyaw). Flashbacks reveal Thit Wai and Nay Thit’s relationship and Honey becomes more suspicious of both her husband and his mysterious friend as she learns more about their past.
The drama introduces a plot twist and thriller elements that overly complicate what could have been a more successful, progressive film. Directed by Nyo Min Lwin, “The Gemini” is at its best when it focuses on the simple story of forbidden love, but the twitchy editing, sound troubles and issues with the subtitles throughout distance the audience. — Kimber Myers “The Gemini.” In Burmese with English subtitles. Not rated. Running time: 2 hours. Playing: Laemmle Music Hall, Beverly Hills.
Unfunny ‘Gun in Your Pocket’
Aristophanes’ “battle of the sexes” comedy “Lysistrata” has inspired everything from Broadway musicals to real-world sex strikes, but there’s rarely been an adaptation as misbegotten as writer-director Matt Cooper’s “Is That a Gun in Your Pocket?” Good intentions and a decent cast and can’t save a film this painfully unfunny.
Andrea Anders stars as Jenna, a small-town Texas wife and mother whose son swipes the family’s handgun and accidentally shoots up his school. When none of the local men seem concerned, Jenna organizes the ladies, suggesting that they lock their husbands and boyfriends out of their bedrooms until the whole community disarms.
“Is That a Gun in Your Pocket?” has the misfortune of arriving less than a year after Spike Lee’s similar— and much better — “ChiRaq.” Cooper’s take is less complex than Lee’s. It mostly consists of crude comments meant to serve as jokes, peppered with the occasional statistic about mass shootings in America. What’s missing is any kind of attempt to capture the nuances of Southern culture or modern gender roles. Every male character is a redneck chauvinist. Every woman is a happy homemaker type — with the exception of one stereotypical sexpot Latina and a foul-mouthed grandma played by Cloris Leachman.
Quickly, “Is That a Gun in Your Pocket?” becomes less about the gun issue than about randy dudes and their icy ladies. The movie tries to wrap an important social message in comedy, but it’s unpalatable all the way through. — Noel Murray
“Is That a Gun in Your
Pocket?” R, for sexual content and language. Running time: 1 hour, 37 minutes. Playing: Laemmle Music Hall, Beverly Hills
Converging conspiracies
Vanity projects don’t get any weirder — or much worse — than the Ferrara brothers’ “New World Order.” An Italian conspiracy thriller utterly devoid of thrills, the film will be of interest only to fans of the quirkily wretched.
Writer-director-editor Marco Ferrara and writerdirector-cinematographer Fabio Ferrara cast producer Mario Ferrara as police commissioner Massimo Torre, who uncovers a secret tribunal of global power-brokers. Their aim: to destabilize civilization, establish a one-world government and enslave humanity with mind-controlling microchips.
Across two grueling hours, the Ferraras tell their story via badly staged shootouts, prolonged death scenes and long sequences where men in suits and uniforms sit around conference tables and make speeches. All of this is set to an incessant Francesco Marchetti score, filled with synthesized strings, martial rhythms and ethereal choirs.
Aside from the odd bit of gratuitous nudity, there’s little of visual interest in this low-budget project, darkly lit and shot on underdressed locations — with as many close-ups as possible to obscure minimal backdrops.
What is semi-interesting — in a “huh?” kind of way — is how the Ferraras take various paranoid speculation from the darkest reaches of the Internet and weave it into a barely coherent supertheory. The cautionary tone doesn’t make “New World Order” any better. — Noel Murray
“New World Order.” In Italian with English subtitles. Not rated. Running time: 2 hours, 2 minutes. Playing: Laemmle Playhouse 7, Pasadena.