The Extra Man--worth checking out (Except for the Katie Holmes character--more on that later--this was a lot of fun to watch)

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Posted: Wed., Jan. 27, 2010, 3:37pm PT

The Extra Man

A Wild Bunch presentation of a Likely Story/3 Arts production. (International sales: Wild Bunch, Paris.) Produced by Anthony Bregman, Stephanie Davis. Executive producers, Jonathan Ames, Stefanie Azpiazu, Agnes Mentre, Vincent Maraval, Robert Pulcini, Shari Springer Berman. Co-producer, Rebecca Rivo. Directed by Robert Pulcini, Shari Springer Berman. Screenplay, Pulcini, Jonathan Ames, Berman, based on the novel by Ames.

Henry Harrison - Kevin Kline
Louis Ives - Paul Dano
Gershon - John C. Reilly
Mary - Katie Holmes
Vivian - Marian Seldes
Lagerfeld - Celia Weston
Katherine - Patti D'Arbanville
Aresh - Dan Hedaya
Lois - Lynn Cohen
George - John Pankow

By TODD MCCARTHY

An imperious older New York eccentric mentors a promising young one in "The Extra Man," a highly entertaining character comedy exemplified by the same virtues the titular leading man ascribes to himself -- wit, intelligence and joie de vivre. Kevin Kline soars in one of his best screen roles, that of an impoverished self-styled aristocrat who contrives to live the high life as an escort to wealthy old ladies. Although too devoted to matters literary, theatrical, operatic and sexually outre to make it with general audiences, this adaptation of Jonathan Ames' novel exudes the sort of smarts and sophisticated charm specialized audiences seek.

Bouncing back to form impressively from "The Nanny Diaries," "American Splendor" writer-directors Robert Pulcini and Shari Springer Berman have made a sort of timeless New York story, one centered on a relative innocent who comes to the big city and ends up being tutored in ways he could never have expected by an idiosyncratic gentleman of high style who expresses cracked opinions with such eloquence and authority that they brook no argument. There have been many such tales, but this one brings to mind "My Favorite Year," primarily for the theatrical flamboyance of the older characters and for the brilliance of the actors playing them, then Peter O'Toole and now Kline.

One key difference is that the young man here is not a total blank sheet waiting to be written upon, but a genuine oddball with his own extreme eccentricities. Louis Ives (Paul Dano) is a gangly, polite, formal, dough-faced prep school English teacher whose twin obsessions -- old literature and cross-dressing -- are expressed in a dream he has of "The Great Gatsby" in which he appears in drag.

Let go from his job, Louis arrives in New York to explore new horizons and, answering an ad for cheap accommodations, is confronted not only with a shabby apartment and very Spartan quarters, but with its occupant, Henry Harrison, who's offering the extra room. A college literature teacher himself and allegedly a playwright, Henry is a throwback in style as well as perspective; he speaks in the British-tinged stentorian tones of early 20th century actors, has a wardrobe almost that old, and polishes his gray hair with black tint when he goes out on the town. Admitting to views about sex and women that are "to the right of the Pope," he believes that American education started declining when females were admitted to colleges and will not allow Louis to bring visitors to the apartment. "No fornication!" he bellows.

Not that there's much imminent danger of that. Other than his discreet visits to a tranny bar and to a couple of women who assist him with his cross-dressing wardrobe, Louis seems almost unformed sexually; his "bipolar fantasies," as he puts it, are to become a young gentleman and to see a girl when he looks in the mirror. While he tries to work that one out, he begins accompanying Henry on his social rounds -- at dinners where the acerbic older man tries not to insult his hosts so he'll be invited back to Palm Beach for the winter season; and to the opera, where Henry teaches his protege his technique for getting in for free.

In due course, Louis gets a job at a small environmental magazine, where he sort of befriends co-worker Mary (Katie Holmes), whom he may see as a "Gatsby" Daisy -- and whose lingerie he covets. There's also a subplot concerning Gershon (John C. Reilly), a building weirdo with giant hair and beard who, despite his frightening appearance, speaks in a very odd falsetto, as well as one involving Henry's former boarder, whose arrival on the scene precipitates the somewhat arbitrary and indifferent wrap-up.

But the core of the film remains the interactions between teacher and student. Henry and Louis have major differences -- there's no one who could possibly agree with all of the curmudgeon's outrageous views -- but Henry likes Louis because they speak the same language. For all the aggravation, Louis knows he has a lot to learn from his unique host, who has such a commanding presence that it's hard not to come under his sway, even when looking askance at the substance of his remarks.

The same holds true for the viewer, given the mesmerizing allure of Kline's outsized but impeccably calibrated performance. Perhaps no contemporary American actor can carry off the sort of classical stage enunciation he can, and here he applies it to a character who uses it both for the effect he knows it creates but, even moreso, out of personal affinity. Henry has a tremendous sense of style, only it's a style of 80 years ago, which is what makes him so funny, an effect compounded by Kline's exceptional sense of timing.

By contrast, Dano soft-pedals his characterization to excellent effect; Louis seems like a rather calculated sort of misfit on paper, but Dano's underplaying and innate physical oddness make him not only palatable but oddly sympathetic. The actresses playing the women in the men's social orbit, including Marian Seldes, Celia Weston, Patti D'Arbanville and Lynn Cohen, are all delights.

Terry Stacey's lensing is vibrant, production designer Judy Becker has poured considerable detail in Henry's worn apartment, Suttirat Larlarb's costume designs show real wit and Klaus Badelt's score is a vigorous asset.

Camera (Deluxe color), Terry Stacey; editor, Pulcini; music, Klaus Badelt; music supervisor, Linda Cohen; production designer, Judy Becker; art director, Charles Kulsziski; costume designer, Suttirat Larlarb; sound (Dolby Digital), Damian Canelos; supervising sound editors, Julia Shirav, Kent Spalding; re-recording mixer, Lora Hirshberg; assistant director, Mariela Comitini. Reviewed at Sundance Film Festival (Premieres), Jan. 25, 2010. Running time: 108 MIN.

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Sundance 2010

Got in on Monday afternoon to Park City, where 5 feet of snow had fallen over the weekend. The energy and the buzz is always amazing. I love the mix of folks who are diehard film buffs, industry folks, young filmmakers, and those who never see a movie while they are here but do not miss a party.

Crazy altitude headache lasted an entire 24 hours, along with the huffing and puffing that goes with mountain air until your body adjusts. You instantly feel for your asthmatic grandmother.

The shuttles are the smartest thing going. You can basically get anywhere you need to go. Overheard the other day, these women were doing a play-by-play of a film a lot of us were on our way to see. I wanted to choke them. Everyone around them was shooting daggers of hate. "Do not f*c# up my moviegoing with your loose lips," was the translation of the hatestares. There was also a first time filmmaker who was talking extra loud about needing to "GET TO MY SCREENING. OF MY FILM. THAT'S SCREENING HERE. MY FILM. AT A THEATER HERE. SCREENING. HERE. MY FILM." Yeah, we all got it.

Got a last-minute invite to Chefdance. Great food and people watching. It was set up in the basement of Harry O's niteclub/live music venue. Mya performed upstairs after dinner to a jam-packed house of people. Even the club here is getting in on the movie business. There was a roving pack of cameras mostly focused on whichever female patron was most likely to have a wardrobe malfunction while dancing. Naturi Naughton, of Notorious and Fame performed, as well. She is crazy talented, definitely one to watch. I talked to her later about possibly working together to shoot a classy and beautiful video to spotlight her talent and beauty. Went to another party or two. It's all blending together. Blame it on the al-al-al-al-al-al-titude.

Saw a graffiti art piece by British artist Banksy. There is a film here on his work:

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Banksy's 'Exit' to premiere at Sundance Film, narrated by Brit Rhys Ifans, is fest's Spotlight Surprise By Gregg Goldstein Jan 20, 2010, 09:41 PM ET The infamous (and anonymous) graffiti artist Banksy is pulling what may be his biggest prank ever at Sundance -- with the help of fellow Brit Rhys Ifans. The guerrilla pseudo-documentary "Exit Through the Gift Shop," billed as "A Banksy Film" and narrated by Ifans, will have its world premiere Sunday night at the Library Center Theater as the fest's Spotlight Surprise. Cinetic Media is repping sales for the stealth project. Hopes are that an adventurous distributor will pony up as many millions for the film as Banksy earns for the "street art" he secretly leaves in urban spaces. Several of his works have appeared on Park City walls this week. Insiders say "Exit" takes audiences on hairpin twists and turns as it chronicles renegade urban artists and pranksters from around the world. The film is billed as an exploration of street art. According to a description, "Los-Angeles based filmmaker Terry Guetta set out to record this secret world in all it's thrilling detail. For more than eight years, he traveled with the pack, roaming the streets of America and Europe, the stealthy witness to the world's most infamous vandals. But after meeting the British stencil artist known only as 'Banksy,' things took a bizarre turn." Jaimie D'Cruz of U.K.-based Keo Films produced the project. Holly Cushing and James Gay-Rees exec produced. But whether the artist known as Banksy helmed the film himself is still a mystery. "Sundance has shown films by unknown artists, but never an anonymous one," said fest director John Cooper. He described the film as "part personal journey and part expose on the art world, with its mind-altering mix of hot air and hype." Adding to questions surrounding the film, U.K. crop circle hoaxter John Lundberg was said to be enlisted by Banksy for stealth promotion. However, a spokesperson for the film said Lundberg had no involvement with it. "Exit" is a separate project from "docuBANKSY," an in-the-works documentary about the artist discovered last year on the Internet. Much like Banksy's work, more about the film can be easily found now in Park City, hidden in plain sight.

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Director Interview at Arpa International Film Festival, Los Angeles

http://arpafilmfestival.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/16-meet-charise-studesville/

#16: Meet CHARISE STUDESVILLE

23102009

CHARISE STUDESVILLE, writer/director/producer

Film: THE HANDS

Screens: Saturday Oct. 24, 4:45 pm – Emerging Stars: Filmmakers on the Edge program

The Hands is a story of the love between a father and daughter that can’t last in its original pure state. As the grown-up daughter now sits at her father’s bedside in his final hours, she becomes fixated upon his hands and how they have come to represent all of who he was, as a man and as a father.

1. Tell us a little about yourself and where you have lived, highlighting any major cultural identities that define, influence or challenge you in your life.

I have spent most of my life in the midwest, growing up for much of my childhood in Madison, WI, and returning there to attend the University of Wisconsin. Since graduating from college, I have lived in Chicago. For the past two years, I have split my time between Los Angeles and Chicago.

I was born a multi-cultural baby before it was chic. Coming from different worlds on either side of my family, I learned very early on to look beyond the surface to view who people really are, at their core.

While there were definitely times when my being culturally different from the blond-haired, blue-eyed standard of beauty that defined the population where I grew up, I have to say that I always felt my mixed-race status was a bonus. From the very beginning, I loved and was loved by very different people from very different worlds. It’s funny, but no matter where I go in the world, people assume I am one of them, a member of their cultural tribe. I really think this has informed my filmmaking. I have always been able to hone in on the humanist element in people, and in the characters I create in my writing and filmmaking. You can’t learn that in school. You either have the sensibilities, or not. I am thankful for all of the nations that live within my heart, and I think the world is finally catching up with my view.

2. How did you come to be a filmmaker, and where/how did you learn the “craft” of filmmaking?

I was trained as a journalist at the University of Wisconsin School of journalism. I went on to use my writing skills within politics, the law, non-profits, etc., but always circled back to fiction writing.

A few years ago, I began studying screenwriting and filmmaking, first during my graduate studies at DePaul University, and then at the Iowa Writers Workshop. I subsequently wrote several screenplays that won awards in various writing contests. After learning the production side of the business during an internship at Martin Chase Productions (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Cheetah Girls, The Princess Diaries), I knew that the one piece left to learn was directing. I was accepted into the USC/Warner Brothers Directing & Producing Program, where it all sort of came together for me. I was able to come out of the program and head directly into production of my directorial debut, along with executive producing another film.

My instructor at USC really helped me in placing a template of organization over the already-honed film aesthetics that came from studying the craft for so many years.

With all of that said, I still feel that my most useful training came from the year I spent as a young girl in a body cast, literally forced to watch the world go by. My imagination served as my friend all of those months, and now it serves as the basis for my career.

3. What prompted the idea for your film and how did it evolve?

One of the screenplays that I wrote is a modern version of The Big Chill, but populated by a multi-culti cast of women friends. Each woman has a complicated and sometimes haunting background story as they come into the present.

The Hands is one such back story. It is based upon the real-life experience of many women I have met, myself included, who idolized their fathers as little girls, but who as adults had to come to grips with the reality that Daddy was just a man, a flawed human being. It is a pivitol moment for both daughters and fathers, and I wanted to look at it up close. I also wanted to explore the ideas of memory, loss, and forgiveness within the confines of the father/daughter relationship. This story seemed the perfect way to do just that.

4. What is your single favorite line from your film?

It’s the last spoken words of the film: Joy and sadness are not exclusive of one another. One can be happy to be free of the imprisonment, but still long for the familiarity of the captor.

It applies to a lot of different kinds of relationships.

5. What movies would you say have transformed or changed the way you see the world?

Room With A View was the first film I remember seeing and thinking that I would love to create something that could transport the viewer so completely to another place and time, and relay the longings and experiences of the characters to the viewer, both visually and emotionally.

Daughters of The Dust and Eve’s Bayou left a longing in my heart for the experience of actually becoming a filmmaker. Both of these films drove me to begin the dig, to figure out how story and picture become one.

---

CHICAGO BLACK HARVEST FILM FESTIVAL

The Hands had the honor of being given a slot on the 2009 Opening Night roster of films a few weeks ago.  That, in itself, was an honor.  Then the countdown whirlwind began with everyone within a hundred mile radius trying to get their hands on a ticket for this event that was basically soldout before the programs were even back from the printer.  After sending out more "sorry" emails than I ever wanted, the reality hit that I was really bringing my project back to my home crowd.  Butterflies in my stomach doesn't begin to describe the nerves I was feeling.  After I figured out what to wear (I am a girlie-girl to my core), I was on my way with my dates--she who gave birth to me, and she to whom I gave birth.  

The Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago was buzzing with energy and excitement.  It was the 15th Anniversary of the Black Harvest Festival, and there was a reverence in the air for what had been accomplished during that time.  Awards were bestowed.  One went to actor Hill Harper, who joined the festivities via a humorous and heartfelt recording, as he was stuck in NYC taping his hit show "CSI:  NY."  The other went to maverick local journalist Hermene Hartman.  The latter was given out by Chaz Ebert, noted Chicago attorney, and wife of Roger Ebert.  As I sat there in the room, witnessing these powerhouse women with whom I was sharing stage space, I was completely humbled.  As Chaz noted, this was an especially special night.  The festival has become known for launching and fostering wonderful new talent.  We were sitting in the house that Siskel and Ebert built watching films that were born of fresh, new voices...and then my film cued up to play.  When I was called up to the podium to speak about my project, I left my body and began to watch from  above.  The words I spoke were coming from the mouth of a new director who had somehow found her way to living and making good upon a dream that once had seemed only remotely possible.  The faces in the audience were engaged.  The energy still palpable.  I still don't recall what I said as coming from my own mouth.  I remember it as being from that woman up on the stage.

A few minutes later, The Hands was on the screen, in living color.  Thanks to the unbelievable technical powerhouse that is the projection and sound of the Siskel Center, I saw my film as it has never been seen before.  Crowd smiled when they were supposed to smile, winced when they were supposed to wince, and cried when they were supposed to cry.  Doesn't get much better than that.

Followed up the screening with a too-much-fun radio interview later in the week with the ever wise and ever funny Brian Babylon, http://vocalo.org/explore/content/46214.  We had so much fun, in fact, that he has invited me back to do some adlib media-talk.  Brought back the good 'ol days in the basement of the University of Wisconsin School of Journalism where my friends and I spent a summer running a daily radio news show.  Fun then.  Fun now.

Finished up the week with a little birthday celebration.  Thirty-three is a good place to be.  I think I'll stay.

LA SHORTS FEST--THE NAKED TRUTH

The L.A. Shorts Fest was a great festival.  The Hands screened on the opening Friday night, in the block after Demi Moore's directorial debut.  It was partnered with some really great films, which is high compliments for our work.  Very cool.  Got great feedback, and a few requests for screeners (screening copies) by a couple of studio people.  Always good.

Here's the part I wasn't expecting.  I received a little email with a pictorial gift that I could have done without...someone who felt the need to make his privates, well, public.  I have a friend who is an anchor at CNN who has been dealing with a few oddballs (no pun intended) of her own, and it all just leaves me perplexed.  I just don't get it.  Is this supposed to make someone more appealing to the recipient?  WTF?!  I have found new ways of screening my mail that will hopefully keep that from happening again.  One friend joked that receiving the x-rated fan mail means you have hit a new high in popularity.  I'd rather have a golden statue.

Five Dollar Footlong + Entourage=FUN

Was under the weather on Friday, so I missed the opening night at the International Black Women’s Film Festival.  After having to cancel all of my travel reservations, I re-booked, switched hotels, and was back on my way Saturday evening.  It’s a short plane trip from L.A. to San Francisco.  Just as we entered the Bay Area, I was treated to the most incredible sunset I have ever witnessed.  An orangey blaze across an aubergine sky.  Felt otherworldly.  Checked into the Clift Hotel…just in time for the party, apparently.  It made me wish I could travel with an entourage.  I so get why folks who find success in the entertainment business often bring with them their closest friends.  For one thing, it gets lonely.  And, then there is also the fact that inside jokes without an accomplice are a little pathetic, as they are only inside your head.  Plus, if you are only in a place for a night or two, the kind of connections that are there for the making are not normally of the kind that a happily married woman wants.  I have never had a problem taking myself to a movie or dinner.  I learned at the age of sixteen that solo movies can be quite a treat.  But, there are times when you just want another human who knows you to bear witness to what you are exploring and experiencing.  My oldest daughter was with me for a festival in Lake Arrowhead, CA a few months back.  The sheer white-knuckled terror we experienced heading up the mountainside to 6000 feet above the rocky valley below is now fodder for us to laugh about until we are doubled over.  We must have looked like a really bad Thelma and Louise meets Twin Peaks smash-up…and speaking of Twin Peaks (and that is where it was filmed), we were convinced that the woods held the most treacherous of mass murderers, just waiting to make furniture and clothing from our body parts.  (We are avowed city people.  It’s official.)  And who else would have had a mutual attack of the juvenile sleep-deprived giggles over the suddenly funny “$5 footlong” Subway song.  Point is, you had to be there…with someone. 

Next...

I have now been on the festival merry-go-round for three months.  The line that keeps coming to mind is, "Be careful what you wish for."  And, I don't mean for this to sound as though I am ungrateful.  I am anything but that.  I am simply experiencing what a lot of newbies discover.  You make this film that you are passionate about.  You hone the best writing you can muster.  You choose the most talented people to work with to make it shine.  You get on set, and the ups and downs are incredible. Passions flare, urging one another to do work that is better for it. When post-production time arrives, the excitement of dissecting and melding the initial vision with the reality of what was captured is at hand.  Editors call this part "polishing the turd."  Not very eloquent, but it must be what it feels like to be given hundreds, sometimes thousands, of tiny pieces to make one coherent whole.  It is said that a movie is written three times:  the screenplay by the writer, the shooting by the director (and cinematographer), and the final meld by the editor.  I always understood this.  The part I didn't really consider, albeit naive of me, is the running around the world to talk about it phase.  But it has to be done, especially in this age of YouTube.  Everybody and their brother, twice removed, feels that they are a filmmaker.  I have talked to folks who claim that they have done 8, 12, 20 movies.  Then I find out that they turned the digital cam upon themselves going to the loo, and called that "film." But, legit movies with rich stories and characters are still competing for the same viewers' attention.  And to do that, you have to run around the world talking about the film you put your heart and soul into.  All of the people who gave time and effort to the film deserve for me to give it that effort.  And, I owe that to myself so that I can continue to tell stories that otherwise wouldn't get told...kind of the mantra of Lotus Girl Films.

So, my days have shaken out like this:

•Joining a women's brainstorming group, as an offshoot to a networking group of women in the industry.  (More about this in the next post.)

•Research at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences on my next project, a political thriller

•Watching old suspense/thriller/political films as inspiration and research (maybe the best perk of the job)

•Supporting other women directors...go see "The Hurt Locker" directed by Kathryn Bigelow!

•Polishing a script for a table reading next week with actors

•Trying to make the moments that I spend with my kids happy and connected ones

•Trying not to rely too heavily on caffeine, even the green tea kind

•Trying not to freakout when my four-year-old lands us in the ER with a "broken chin" on the 4th of July  (four stitches and a few days out of the pool, and he's fine; mommy is still re-living watching the numbing of the wound--oy!)

•Talking to other writers and story people about new projects

•Talking to folks about money for the next projects

•Getting ready for two festivals coming up in the next 10 days

All in all, it has been a good couple of weeks.  A good night's sleep, or two, and I should be ready to talk it up some more.  At the end of the day, the whole scene is just a heap of "high level problems."  Like I said, be careful what you wish for.  You will probably get it.  And then some. 

Someone asked me so long ago, why was there even a need for "Black" film festivals.  I answered that the film market still seems to forget that the world is made up of many stories, and that universal stories can be told from the vantage point of any human capable of experiencing it...thus making it universal.  We need places where it is alright not to be one of the boyz in tha hood, no disrespect to those who are.  In so many festivals, a brown face on the screen means marginalization, generalization, and the assumption that whatever story that brown face portrays couldn't possibly be one to which the average non-brown face could relate.  Sometimes, white festival programmers and directors just don't see us as individuals.

Just before I left Chicago, I received a photo from the director of a festival I screened The Hands at a couple of months ago.  The envelope was addressed to me...the only Black filmmaker at this particular festival.  To my surprise, the envelope contained a picture of the only other Black women to attend the festival besides myself and my daughter. I will post the pic of the women and a pic of my daughter and I when I get back to Chicago.  I will let you be the guest as to how far we have come in truly seeing each other...or not.