Copyright
©
1995-2009 Scott Larson
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Zahrada (The Garden) 
The Garden is one of those eastern European films that is part
Buster Keaton comedy and part metaphysical, quasi-religious exercise.
Most of the action takes place (no surprise) in a garden that belonged to
the grandfather of Jakub, a teacher. He goes to live there after his
father, a tailor, kicks him out because he (very) brazenly carries on
with one of his married customers. Many wondrous and perplexing things
happen in the garden, and Jakub befriends a strange young girl named
Helena (called The Virgin Miraculous in the title cards that appear
regularly) who seems to have strange powers. Lots of other bizarre things
occur in this film by Slovak director Martin Sulik, including an
encounter with a man named Jean-Jacques Rousseau, but it probably helps
to have been raised in eastern Europe to get something out of it. (Seen 24 May 1996)
Zawrocony (The Convert) 
This Polish film is set in 1981 when Poland was still in the Soviet orbit
and Solidarity was only a dissident movement. After the screening, I
heard someone describe it as “Chaplinesque” and that is apt. Tomasz, the
main character, is a hapless, comic figure whose misadventures often
tickle us. But, as in Chaplin’s Modern Times, he gets caught up in
a system that has become inhuman. At the beginning of the story, Tomasz
is a flunky, brown-nosing party member. He volunteers to attend a
Solidarity rally and collect the names of participants who work at the
same nuclear plant he does. But when the marchers begin singing a
political hymn full of Catholic references, he gets swept up in the
fervor and sings more loudly than anybody. When the Communist militia
break up the rally, he is pursued in one of the funniest chase scenes I
have ever seen. (This chase is grimly echoed later when Tomasz is in
police custody.) The film depicts brutality, but to its credit it glides
from slapstick to pathos seamlessly and does not make you feel as though
you are watching two movies. Through Tomasz we see why Communism in
Poland never really stood a chance in the long run. (Seen 1
June 1995)
The Zero Effect
The Zero Effect is a low-key little detective yarn that would not
be inconceivable as a TV pilot. This is not to say that it doesn’t make
for a good flick; it’s just that we wouldn’t mind seeing further
adventures of its hero, Daryl Zero (Bill Pullman), and his slow-steaming
sidekick, Steve Arlo (Ben Stiller). On the big screen, the film has less
action and violence than we are used to these days, but that’s not
necessarily a bad thing. More of a problem is some flabbiness in the
script, but we can get past that too. Kim Dickens does a nice job as the
obligatory (but strangely innocent) femme fatale, and Ryan O’Neal
seems continually out of breath as the wealthy client hiding some nasty
secrets. Clear and sunny Portland, Oregon provides a refreshing setting
for this kind of story. And in brilliant but geeky, work-efficient but
socially-insecure Daryl Zero, writer/director Jake (son of Lawrence)
Kasdan may have given us the perfect crime solver for the 1990s. (Seen 3 February 1998)
Zonad
Frankly, the description and photo in the Film Fleadh program made this movie seem a bit dodgy. But I went anyway, on the strength of its having been directed and co-written (along with his brother Kieran) by John Carney, who gave us On the Edge and Once. So how was it? Well, dodgy. It looked like everyone had a great time working on the film, but it’s essentially a three-joke comedy sketch stretched out to feature length. We know right away we may be in trouble when our rural village setting turns out to be Avoca, County Wicklow, and no effort is made to disguise the fact that it’s the same place where Ballykissangel was filmed. And then the characters seem to have stepped out of a US 1950s sitcom and are one-note/two-dimensional types. The fact is that this could have been a pretty good comedy if it had been treated a bit more seriously and the Carneys weren’t so busy amusing themselves. It could have been a sci-fi version of The Music Man. But instead we get leering jokes about promiscuous teenage girls and idiot villagers. Simon Delaney (Spin the Bottle, The Actors, Intermission) shows up in our idyllic and space-obsessed hamlet in a strange costume and is presumed to be an extra-terrestrial visitor. There are some laughs along the way, but after it’s over, you don’t really feel like you’ve seen a real movie.
(Seen 11 July 2009)
Zoo
I wish I could be as detached as the woman I overheard after the screening, who obviously knew her horses and was calmly explaining to her friends that, in at least one scene, the horse in question was a mare and not a stallion. I was really creeped out by this documentary. I went to see it, of course, because I thought it might assuage some of my homesickness for King County, Washington, where I still cast my votes. I was familiar with the incident at the center of the film—even all the way over here in Ireland. As with The Killing of John Lennon, I thought it might be good to know something more about a notorious event, but after the fact I can’t say that it was. The film’s central problem is that there is precious little primary footage available. So the film consists of audio interviews, accompanied by recreations by actors and a few of the actual people. The photography is shadowy and sinister and accompanied by music (by Paul Matthew Moore) that tries to sound as much as possible like Philip Glass. In other words, director Robinson Devor is trying to be Errol Morris. As well, the fact that these not-strictly-natural events were going on beneath the placid veneer of a Pacific Northwest town inevitably brings up echoes of Twin Peaks. Perhaps the most Lynchian moment is a surreal scene where we watch a group of authorities reacting in horror and disgust to a video of the sort of unnatural act that led to the accidental death of a Boeing employee. If there is any point to this movie, it is to allow us to get inside the head of people who call themselves zoo, i.e. zoophiles. I take full responsibility for freely choosing to see this movie, but in the end, that head was one more place that I really didn’t need to go.
(Seen 18 October 2007)
Zoolander
This is actually pretty funny, even though it is essentially a one-, well
maybe two-joke movie. Based on a character Ben Stiller created a few
years ago for a TV awards show, Zoolander has the feel of yet
another comedy derived from a Saturday Night Live skit, or even
one from Stiller’s own short-lived 1992 sketch comedy show.
Director/co-writer/star Stiller takes aim at two easy targets: the
vacuous, shallow world of (male) fashion modeling and Hitchcock-style
suspense thrillers. To his credit, it mostly holds our attention anyway,
thanks in part to many humorous cameo appearances, since many of the
people being lampooned (e.g. Fabio) are anxious to show their
hipness by being part of the joke. The most effective cameos by far are
by David Bowie and David Duchovny. Stiller gets good support from his
parents and his wife, who are also featured, but he is a bit unfortunate
in his timing since a lighthearted romp about brainwashed political
assassins feels a bit strange right now. And it doesn’t help that the
setting is New York City, since we find ourselves involuntarily scanning
the shots of Manhattan to see if the twin towers are there. (Seen 9 October 2001)
Zugvögel (Trains and Roses) 
For some reason the name Trains and Roses sounds to me like it
should be a Scottish heavy metal band, but it’s actually the English
title that’s been put on this delightful and gentle comedy from German
director Peter Lichtefeld. A quirky road (actually, train track) movie
about an introverted beer truck driver trying to realize his dream of
participating in and winning the international train schedule competition
(you have to memorize all the train schedules in the world and figure out
instantly the quickest way from one place to another), we get taken for a
pleasant journey through Germany, Sweden and the northernmost reaches of
of Finland. Coincidence, mystery, and an unlikely romance are the
ingredients in this comic mix. Lichtefeld says that one of his earliest
cinematic influences was Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in the West, and as a result the latter half of the movie features a sly and
clever homage to that film’s opening scene. (Seen 24
August 1998)
Zusje (Little Sister)
The idea behind Little Sister is one of those clever ones that
sounds neat but presents considerable problems for its execution. The
premise is that the film is made by a man with a video camera à
la cinéma verité. Martijn has returned to The
Netherlands after living in London for several years. He imposes himself
on his sister Daantje, intending to videotape everything that happens
while he is there. This gets constraining after a while, but the concept
gets expanded as other people sometimes get control of the video camera
and with the introduction of a second video camera toward the end. The
movie even includes flashblacks, which take the form of snippets of old
home movies that are inserted into the film. Maartijn is obsessed with
something that happened between him and Daantje when they were children
and eventually we find out just what it was. Much of the film is
discomfiting, as Daantje and her friends are annoyed by being videotaped
all the time. At the same time there is also a strange voyeuristic appeal
to the film as we feel we are seeing things we are not meant to see.
Overall, Little Sister is intriguing, but in the end that is owed
more to its concept than to its plot. (Seen 6 June
1996)
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