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In theaters
THE KID STAYS IN THE PICTURE, directed by Brett Morgen and Nanette Burstein, written by Morgen, 93 minutes, rated R. Now showing, Movie City 8.
Brett Morgen and Nanette Burstein’s fantastic documentary, “The Kid Stays in the Picture,” is smashing, a beautifully conceived, stylish plunge into the tumultuous life of Robert Evans, the infamous Hollywood producer whose success in the late ’60s through the early ’80s soared with such films as “Rosemary’s Baby,” “The Godfather,” “Love Story” and “Chinatown” before it all came crashing down around him.
Based on Evans’ 1994 memoirs, the film chronicles the man’s life from “pretty-boy actor” in the 1950s, when some thought he’d become the next Valentino, to the vilification of his acting career in 1958, when he bombed in “The Fiend Who Walked the West,” to his position as head of production at Paramount Pictures, which he lifted to the top of the heap after spearheading a remarkable string of hits.
Narrated by the 72-year-old Evans with a tough, gangster-style sensibility that smacks of old-school Hollywood and recalls the grittiness of a Raymond Chandler character, the film seethes with an element of noirish sleaze.
Indeed, with the exception of those scenes that follow Evans’ relationship with his former wife, Ali McGraw, a woman he genuinely loved yet lost to Steve McQueen, a cutthroat atmosphere slices through the film, giving it enormous power as it explores the business end of moviemaking during the last golden age of Hollywood, the 1970s.
While there’s no denying the film is slanted in Evans’ favor, focusing more on his rise to power than on his downfall from cocaine, his tangential role in a murder case, the crushing failure of “The Cotton Club” and a stint in a mental institution, it’s nevertheless riveting, one of the year’s best films.
Culled completely from old photographs, old newsreels and clips from Evans’ best-known movies, the film is alive with mischief and is often very funny, charged by Evans’ eagerness to throw open his closet doors and shake out some of the more noteworthy skeletons.
It’s curious what Morgen and Burstein have left out, such as Evans’ three other failed marriages, especially the one to Phyllis George, but the stories they do cover more than make up for what’s missing, especially Evans’ reflections on McGraw, whom he eventually calls Snot Nose McGraw; his bitter feuds with Francis Ford Coppola and Roman Polanski; his withering impersonation of Mia Farrow; and his deep friendship with Jack Nicholson.
For those who love movies, there is no other movie to see right now. Evans’ genius was in knowing that “if you own a property in Hollywood, you’re a king. If you don’t, you’re a pe-on. The property is the star. You can have stars up the a-, but if it’s not on the page, it’s not on the screen.”
That philosophy no longer rules in today’s celebrity-obsessed Hollywood. Watch this nostalgic look back get nominated for an Academy Award.
Grade: A
Also in theaters
MY WIFE IS AN ACTRESS, Written and directed by Yvan Attal, 93 minutes, rated R, in French with English subtitles. Now showing, Movie City 8.
Yvan Attal’s “My Wife is an Actress” blends elements of fiction and reality, shakes them up and hopes for the best.
It stars Attal and his real-life wife, Charlotte Gainsbourg – a popular actress in France – in roles that intentionally draw direct parallels to their lives and their marriage.
In the film, Attal is Yvan, a fiercely jealous man struggling to deal with his own insecurities and the suffocating atmosphere created by his wife, Charlotte’s, fame.
Based on Attal’s script, the movie has an engaging first act, when Yvan’s neuroses are sparked with a comedic edge. But by the second act, those same quirks become cloying and repetitive, darkening the film’s mood as the couple’s troubled relationship sours when Charlotte falls for a fellow actor played by Terence Stamp.
There’s a lot to like in “Actress,” particularly the superfluous side story in which Yvan’s sister (Noemie Lvovsky) and brother-in-law (Laurent Bateau) fight over whether their unborn son should be circumcised; she’s Jewish, he isn’t. Also strong is how the film questions what it means to be in a relationship with an actor whose work involves having implied sex with strangers.
But the film is uneven and sometimes slow. Worse, by beginning with stills of some of the greatest screen actresses who ever lived – Bette Davis, Greta Garbo, Louise Brooks, Theda Bara and Clara Bow among them – Attal immediately, some might say unfairly, courts comparisons to his wife, whose sweet yet limited on-screen appeal has nothing on these women and which isn’t enough to keep his film fully afloat.
Grade: B-
Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, Tuesdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5” and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ 2 and WCSH 6. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.
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