To Scott Foundas:

I'm Not There is such a knock off of Palindromes and Palindromes is a much better film. I'm Not There is so often called original and I'm so surprised that no one, especially L.A. Weekly, ever stated anything about Palindromes or Todd Solondz's truly original filmmaking.

This paper was too busy making a huge cover story hailing I'm Not There and Todd Haynes, when in fact his so called originality was stolen from a film that didn't have as much money put into it. I find it hard to believe that no one within L.A. Weekly, especially the film reviewers, ever made this connection as the Todd Solondz film was only released in 2004, so it couldn't be considered an homage.

Give credit where credit's due and Todd Haynes' horrible film should certainly be excluded.

-Reggie, Venice

Dear Reggie:

Actually, it could be argued that both Todds—Haynes and Solondz—”stole” their approach from Luis Bunuel, who used two actresses interchangeably to play the same character in his 1977 film THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE. Beyond which, Haynes widely acknowledged both this precedent, and that of Solondz’s film, in interviews while promoting I’M NOT THERE.

The novelty of Haynes’ film is that he uses this technique in the context of a biography, rather than a work of fiction. But just because someone has used an aesthetic device once, twice, or ten times before doesn’t mean it can’t—or shouldn’t—be used again. Novelty and originality are overrated (and lazy) evaluative criteria where films, books, plays are concerned anyway. Something can just as easily be unoriginal and good as it can be original and bad.

Kind regards,
Scott Foundas

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GO PATHOLOGY Crank creators Neveldine and Taylor — who apparently no longer require the luxury of first names — scripted this tale of deranged young doctors in the L.A. coroner’s office who test each other to come up with ever more elaborate murders in hopes of stumping their colleagues as to the cause of death. The duo bring their crazed, anything-goes sensibility to the table, but they aren’t a perfect match with German director Marc Schoelermann, who seems to like his horror more brooding and artsy. So while our main characters engage in plenty of gratuitous sex, violence, and combinations of both, Schoelermann will be damned if he lets the rather obviously named Dr. Grey (Milo Ventimiglia) look like he’s enjoying a second of it. As the new kid who gets swept up in all the madness, Ventimiglia is morose from the start, and not exactly the portrait of seduced innocence this story really needs. Nonetheless, when a movie opens with the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally as performed by cadavers, and later proceeds to sex scenes involving scalpels and needles, the actual plot is inconsequential. Fans of hard-R exploitation will love this; everyone else will likely be appalled. Screw ’em. (Citywide) (Luke Y. Thompson)

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GO THE RUINS If you turn the first page of Scott Smith’s The Ruins, a friend said astutely, you won’t put it down — but if you know what it’s about beforehand, you won’t pick it up. So let’s just say that if this reworking never approximates the abandon-all-hope ferocity of Smith’s hair-whitening source novel, it’s still a superior shocker with a mood-altering edge of hallucinatory madness. In an absurdist set-up that resembles Beckett by way of EC Comics, five tourists (four American, one German) are forced atop a remote Mayan temple, where they face two options: a quick death from the armed villagers who’ve surrounded the site, or a slow death from the snaky, insatiable tendrils of the ruins’ entrenched resident. What follows is a study in situational ethics, destabilized group dynamics, and existential panic, as each new choice between the lesser of two evils only brings greater evils. Though Smith adapted his own book, the briskly paced, neatly telescoped movie is too short to recapture its grinding psychological devastation, leaving a gory but strangely slight allegory of America’s dependence on creature comforts. But first-time feature director Carter Smith, working with resourceful cinematographer Darius Khondji, pulls off the neat trick of using the wide screen to claustrophobic effect. And the actors give such a convincing display of starvation-fueled fear that they deserve their own private craft-service table. (Citywide) (Jim Ridley)

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