Submission, from Sweeden, is this year’s An Inconvenient Truth. And if the filmmakers and interviewees are to be believed, the threat of industrial chemicals accumulating in our bodies may well seal the fate of the human race (and others) well before global warming destroys the planet. The film is accurately described as more of an essay than a documentary. These screenings at the Mill Valley Film Festival were the film’s North American premiere.

The film begins with  veteran filmmaker Stefan Jarl deciding to have his own blood tested for foreign substances. He finds more than 200. It then proceeds through intercut interviews with credible scientists from around the world on what it all means. In parallel, Jarl recruits pregnant actress Eva Röse for a similar experiment, ultimately to make the case that most of these chemicals are passed from mothers to their children through the placenta, even before birth, and breast milk.

The movie is designed to scare us, and it’s quite successful. For me, the big takeaways are (a) this is a remarkably recent phenomenon affecting us (cumulatively) for only the past three generations, (b) because many of the substances are global, persistent and bioaccumulative, we’re on course for a devastating impact on our entire race in just the next two or three generations, and (c) unlike global warming, virtually nothing is being done to address the problem.

Jarl makes his case quite skillfully, building the intensity of dire consequences over the course of 87 minutes. By the end, you may agree that this is one of the most depressing films you’ve seen. That’s in part because unlike An Inconvenient Truth, which convinced us to trade in our Jeep Cherokee for a Prius, the film doesn’t give us much hope or offer a call to action. Although most of the interviews aren’t in English (but are subtitled), this is an important film, which I do recommend.

This is what a good film festival is all about. About 100  of us were treated to the U.S. premiere of Lo Más Importante de la Vida es No Haber Muerto, a great first feature from a trio of young directors (Olivier Pictet, Pablo Martin Torrado and Marc Recuenco) who have worked on shorter projects in their nine years since film school in Barcelona. It’s a mix of classic Buñuel surrealism, Ricky Gervais comedy and Eternal Sunshine impressionism.

The story is of Jacobo (played  marvelously by Spanish star Emilio Gutiérrez Caba) a third-generation piano tuner who, in his senior years, questions the mystical and existential aspects of his own life when he admits to his doctor that most of the pianos seem to have been tuning themselves. (Imagine catching a glimpse of Santa Claus in your living room. Was it real or were you dreaming?) Okay, so that doesn’t give you a clue what this movie is really all about. But this is one of the most original and creative scripts to appear in the past few years. Producer Saskia Vischer, who was at the screening along with the three directors and editor Jordi J.Recort, deserves a lot of the credit for helping the script make it to the screen pretty much as originally envisioned.

The film is beautifully shot, 95% in film-noir B&W and much in an angular Buñuel style. The original score, mostly of solo cello, piano and occasional string quartet is excellent. The opening animated title sequence, while gorgeous, is self-indulgently long and inappropriate for the body of the film. Cessna thought it was a bit long, but I think 17 films (so far) in 10 days may be catching up with her. This isn’t a mainstream movie. It’s definitely for foreign-language film buffs, but if that’s you, keep an eye out for this one. I don’t think it has distribution outside of one or two EU countries yet.

And for once, this trailer does give a reasonably accurate portrayal of the film itself.

The Housemaid, from South Korea, was a big hit a this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Jeon Do-yeon won the Best Actress award there, and she along with two other women in this film really are quite good. The film also received a lot of attention there for some very racy scenes. It’s a remake of a 1960 South Korean film. Lat night was the U.S. premiere.

At first I graded this a C or C-. But like some films do, it has grown on me. Cessna and I found we had more to talk about after this film than any, and that’s usually a good sign.

It’s an Upstairs/Downstairs story about a young housemaid employed in an over-the-top wealthy household. The aristocratic family are supposed to be creepy and scary, but for the first half of the film they’re just posing. Not just the actors, but the director keeps giving us visual tableaus to show off their Hearst Castle of a home. It’s unnecessary and boring, hence my original low score. But just when I was ready to give up, a new character (played brilliantly by Park Ji-young) enters and the creepiness begins in earnest. From that midpoint on, things get satisfyingly stranger and stranger. It’s becomes less superficial and more deeply psychological. Yoon Yeo-jeong, as the older servant is terrific throughout.

I found myself wishing I understood how this film would be perceived in the context of South Korean culture, about which I know nothing. Given the attention it received at Cannes and the fact that it has been picked up by IFC Films, I’m sure it will be talked about quite a bit. An unusual number of viewers were turned off by the overt sex and walked out. If that doesn’t bother you, this is a film worth seeing if you’re willing to wait until the second half for the best performances and story.

By the way, the trailer below is quite misleading. There’s no English-language song in the film like that in the trailer. You’re better off watching it without sound.

Going to this film was a gamble for us. Unfortunately, it was a gamble that didn’t pay off. We’re generally fans of Japanese cinema and television, everything from Kawasaki masterpieces to taiga dramas and TV serials. Cast Me If You Can was accurately billed as a romantic comedy. It’s just not a good one.

Director Atsushi Ogata was there for Q&A and explained the genesis of this film. He’s obviously a talented guy, and he pulled together an impressive cast including some of Japan’s most popular actors. But Ogata gets very poor performances from the cast.  It’s just a very weak script, painfully awkward pacing and aimless direction that make for a rather boring 97 minutes. Ogata’s previous films are all shorts, and this one feels like it should have been a short as well.

If you’re not a fan of Japanese TV, stay away. Even if you like JTV, I’d still say skip it, but keep your eye out for better films from Ogata in the future.

I loved this movie. It’s a modern-day “kangaroo western” (yes, from Australia) in an updated Sergio Leone style. I’m generally not a fan of westerns, but I have the feeling that if I were, I would have caught all sorts of references to other films. The lead character is a rookie deputy named Shane, if that’s a clue.

If you like the films of Tarantino and Rodriquez, this is one for you. Not only is it hilarious — think Pulp Fiction on horseback — but it is one of the most gorgeously photographed films I’ve seen in recent years. Every shot is a work of art, and I mean that: every one. The music and sound are also superb as are the actors. I don’t know how wide a U.S. release Red Hill will get, but this is one that’s worth going out of your way to see. Fun and great filmmaking.

My Brothers is a good try, but in the end just doesn’t make it. It’s an Irish film about three brothers who’s father is dying. It’s a combination road-trip and coming-of-age film, although the ages of the brothers are roughly seven through 18. The actors are superb, but I just never got into the film. IT was just too slow and self-aware. The cinematography was self-indulgent and the music was driving me crazy. I’m sitting here trying to figure out what would have saved this movie that really does have potential. Maybe it could have been saved in the cutting room. I wish I could recommend this one, but I can’t.

We got to see the US premiere of Miral, the true story of four Muslim women in Jerusalem from the creation of Israel in 1948 through recent times. In addition to their personal stories, there’s a strong political context of the argument for a fully integrated Israel versus a two-state “solution.” I fully expected Julian Schnabel’s Miral to be one of the hits of the Mill Valley Film Festival. But Wow, what a shocker! Instead, I’d say it was the worst of the ten films we’ve seen so far this year. So disappointing.

It’s a mess of a film. The the script is stilted and awkward. The dialogue is at once simplistic and heavy-handed. All of the performances sub-par, which suggests that the direction is to blame. Even the actors’ accents are awful. Some of the most important characters are nothing more than superficial. Schnabel did an amazing job with Diving Bell and the Butterfly, but as he admitted during the Q&A, he’s a painter, not a filmmaker. Perhaps part of the problem is that he’s way too close to the material. He’s a compassionate two-state-fan Jew. This film isn’t art for him. It’s more literal than that. His mother was the first president of Hadassah. He filmed many of the scenes in their actual locations in Jerusalem. I don’t think he had anyone on the team in a position to tell him it’s just not a good movie. Great story, okay. But it’s got to work as a film.

I probably don’t need to mention this after such a pan, but the production values were also weak. Schnabel kept switching in and out of visual styles such as a 1950 color-negative look, but there was no discernable thematic reason for doing so. Editing, music and sound were likewise poor. Need I say it? Skip this one even if it ends up getting huge sentimental popularity.

There have been many documentaries about the Jewish/Palestinian conflict in Gaza, and quite a few of them have appeared at the Mill Valley Film Festival. Precious Life is perhaps the best. Jewish filmmaker Shlomi Eldar has been an Israeli war correspondent for two decades, but in this film he’s become part of the story. A Palestinian baby is born with no immune system in Gaza. Normally the baby would die not long after birth. But under incredible circumstances, Eldar manages to get the baby and his parents through the checkpoint to an Israeli hospital. Together with the Jewish doctor, they manage to raise $55,000 for a bone-marrow transplant procedure from an anonymous Jewish donor who lost his own son in the war. The baby’s parents are in complete disbelief. They’ve been raised to believe that the Jews were monsters. That’s just the setup. The true-life story just gets better from there.

The reason I particularly life this film is that more than any other film, it helped me understand how the people on either side of this conflict see one another. It also shows how deeply one needs to dig into their own beliefs to truly understand people of other cultures and religions. Just believing you’re tolerant and not prejudiced isn’t enough. You have to work hard at it.

Everyday Sunshine is the story of the black/rock band Fishbone that was created by a half-dozen kids who met in a San Fernando Valley high school, all of them bussed in from Watts, South Central LA, etc., during those forced integration years of the ’70s. Fishbone is one of those musicians’-musicians bands that those who really know what’s happening in the music world always know. (I admit that I didn’t know them. I had to ask my bassist son about them.) The band was (and to some extent still is) extraordinary. It’s clear that co-founder Norwood Fisher is not only an awesome musician, but has strongly influenced Flea, Les Claypool and other great rock bassists. Flea, Claypool and a handful of other top musicians appear in interviews that are far more interesting than the usual: “Oh yeah, those guys were great!”

The problems for Fishbone were that they were an amazing live-performance band. Their music just doesn’t work well on audio CD. The band is outrageously talented with an over-the-top eclectic style. They seem so out of control, but everything is musically very tight. An audio recording probably misses the point entirely. The music industry just couldn’t deal with them. The were a punk band, but they were black. They weren’t R&B, they were rock. But it wasn’t the usual blues-based rock. The music is rich, complex and rewarding. Much of it sounds almost Zydeco to me.

Co-directors Lev Anderson and Chris Metzler, both of whom answered questions after the screening, spent years tracking down old footage and old band members. At one point in their history guitarist Kendall Jones left the band to join a cult-like group here in Marin County. The other band members and Kendall’s ex-girlfriend attempted to physically intervene and get him out of there. They were charged with kidnapping and ultimately found not guilty. It’s just part of the wild story of this band’s history, and Anderson and Metzler cover it all.

It’s one of the best rockumentaries I’ve seen. One reason is how brilliantly Anderson and Metzler have pieced it together so non-linearly. It’s not in chronological order. It’s not even in a theme-oriented order. I can’t tell you after just one screening what the sequence of the film is based on, but it works and it works really well. It just flows. And of course, the music is great. You get neither too much music nor too little. It’s just right.

Cessna rated this only a C, so I’d say it’s probably only for those who are musicians (I’m not) or those who are particularly interested in documentary filmmaking. Or if you’re a Fishbone fan, in which it’s obviously a must-see.

This 2009 film from the Czech Republic is a marvelous part-drama, part-thriller about family secrets and Communist-era Czechoslovakia conspiracies. I want to call the movie “charming” but that makes it sound like something cute and fluffy, and it’s definitely not that. The cast are universally superb are all of the technical filmmaking elements. Director Jan Hrebejk is masterful at how he reveals both the background (with thankfully little exposition) as well as the unfolding plot. This one has a lot of twists and turns, and Hrebejk delivers them in that way that’s so satisfying and rewarding to experience. I came out of Kawasaki’s Rose thinking “B”, but the more I thought about it, the better it felt. Try to find this one if you can.