Chicago Guide to Independent and Underground Cinema
x x x x x x
> Sign up
> Editorial Statement
> Last Week > Next Week
a weekly guide to alternative cinema- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
:: Friday, JULY 26 - Thursday, AUG. 1 ::


Francis Coppola's ONE FROM THE HEART (American Revival)
Northbrook Public Library (1201 Cedar Lane, Northbrook) — Wednesday, 1 and 7:30pm

Box-office bomb, grand experiment in filmmaking technology, and cornerstone of visual delirium, ONE FROM THE HEART represents the last time any organization would be allowed to attempt to redefine cinematic production without the cultural affiliation of crummy comic books and/or their corporate extension (the special-effects industry). The film itself—featuring a bickering couple (Teri Garr and Frederick Forrest), living in some psychedelic studio-lot Las Vegas, on hiatus with their respective suitors (Raul Julia and Nastassja Kinski), and accompanied by a non-diegetic soundtrack of torch-song cabaret by Tom Waits and Crystal Gayle—takes place at the improbable (and at times laughable) intersection of Jacques Demy and John Cassavettes. For lesser fans of Waits, much of the spectatorial pleasure involves the beautiful, complex set design, colorful lighting and general cinematographic hubris—DP Vittorio Storaro makes every shot look like it took a week to stage, and set decorator Leslie Frankenheimer would wind up transporting much of the film's expensive neon lighting to the set of BLADE RUNNER. But ONE FROM THE HEART was also a (now largely forgotten) technical experiment in disembodied directing, with Coppola wired to closed-circuit cameras and loudspeakers in his Airstream trailer, which was in turn enabled with early non-linear video editing systems; and the result (presented here on 35mm) could be truly inspiring to a new generation of digital innovators, if only they would leave their house. (1982, 107 min, 35mm) MC
More info at

CAT Film Festival 
Chicago Filmmakers (in the parking lot at 1478 W. Farragut Ave.) - Friday, 8pm / Cafe 53 (1369 E. 53rd St.) - Saturday, 7pm

Since this site is dedicated to promoting independent and underground cinema, it is only fitting that our taste in those oh-so-endearing 'cat videos' would veer towards the abstract. Though Garfield and Grumpy Cat will always hold a place in the hearts of many cinephiles—the former as a bonafide star of various films made a la traditional auteur theory, the latter as an emerging virtuoso born of YouTube's garish brand of vulgar auteurism—we much prefer the feline stars found on celluloid and shot by those filmmakers who understand the inherent unlikeness of these furry, four-legged creatures and their manic sensibilities. Chicago Filmmakers and South Side Projections have collected several such films in order to present the (first annual?—here's to hoping it's a regular thing) CAT Film Festival. The lineup includes films from filmmakers Yvonne Andersen, Stan Brakhage, Bill Brand, Pola Chappele, Tom Chomont, Martha Colburn, JoAnn Elam, Stephen Beghardt, Pat Jaffe, Rita Nachtmann, Celia Kendrick, Sara Petty, David Tucker, and Joyce Wieland, and all will be projected in their original 16mm format. The content of these films is as varied as the YouTube search results of the same topic, but obviously much more nuanced; their 'catlike' complexity eclipses the emotional manipulation typically found in the standard narrative fare uploaded on the video-sharing Web sites. It's understandable why cats are the subjects of and inspiration for experimental and avant-garde filmmaking—science would suggest that cats view the world much as many experimental filmmakers attempt to show it, and the audiences of those films likewise experience the visually perplexing works in a similar manner. In Brakhage's THE CAT OF THE WORM'S GREEN REALM (1998), footage of cats comprise only a small percentage of the film, but when they do appear, they are mostly in focus. The surrounding footage is much as one would expect from Brakhage, with the surreal imagery suggesting the viewpoint of the cats. In and of itself, experimental filmmaking is distinctly cat-like, lacking in the obvious sentiment put forward by narrative film (much like cats are considered reserved creatures), but intimate in a wholly different way. The cat of Bill Brand's ZIP-TONE-CAT-TUNE (1972) is somewhat obscured by the effects of a screentone device, suggesting a distance between the cuddly subject and its viewer. Yet the cat's innate coolness manages to seep through the effect, and the result is footage that suggests how a cat might view itself—shrouded in mystery, with its familiarity layered below the detachment. As these and other films in the lineup are often nonsensical, but always beautiful, its no wonder that cats sometimes act as muse to their cinephile companions. (1965-2002, Unconfirmed Running Time, 16mm) KK
More info at and

Ernst Lubitsch's LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN (Silent American Revival) 
Doc Films (University of Chicago) - Friday, 9:30pm

More than anything, Lubitsch worked with timing, constructing in his scenes triangular, dance-like editing rhythms that provoked audience members to see actions from multiple angles not to understand them but rather to perceive and judge more clearly the misconceptions and prejudices of his characters. A master of shifting points of view, Lubitsch was never satisfied with allowing us simplistic character identification when he could complicate things by making us at the same time mock each communication gone awry, each gesture misunderstood, each secret reluctantly kept. When it came to adapting Oscar Wilde's play, Lubitsch gleefully excised all of Wilde's celebrated witticisms and word plays, maintaining from the text only the skeleton of a plot: a young wife, who thinks her husband is sleeping with a disreputable older woman, decides to take a lover of her own in revenge. Lubitsch knew that any attempt to appropriate Wilde's language in his intertitles would result only in stillborn cinema. The film instead is filled with visual and temporal analogues to its source: meaningful glances that can be multiply decrypted; overflowing sexual longings compressed into a twitch of an eyebrow, the curl of a haircut; cataclysmic social faux-pas outlined in mysterious chiaroscuro. Lubitsch breaks the world of the film into two contradictory designs, each oppressive, heartless, and ultimately maddeningly insular. Within the interior world of the wealthy, strong vertical lines predominate, turning the inhabitants of these houses, particularly the stunningly diminutive Lady Windermere, into permanent strangers to one another. They move through their spaces as though each of them is the only free creature left within a world of exhibition and captivity. This is contrasted to the outside world, a place of horizontal chaos, in which social bonds exist only so that they can be used to hurt one another, to destroy fervent hopes, and to exploit small ideals. Grouped uncomfortably together by the sly eye of their director, characters here behave furtively, recognizing their intimate vulnerability, as though at any moment each one's neighbors will realize that their friend and companion is a fraud. Lubitsch's famous touch, built on synecdoche and implication, directs our imaginations far more than his actors, for his is a hieroglyphic style of cinema in which what ultimately most matters never actually occurs before our eyes but only between our ears. Things are rarely exactly what they're presented to be in a Lubitsch film—there's always a complication, always a nuance, always another side to every story—and this tendency is at its most delicious height here, in his greatest silent film. It was reported when the film was released that Wilde's estate would give its permission to adapt the play only on the condition that Lubitsch be the director. They couldn't have chosen better, and Wilde's play couldn't have been better served. (1925, 89 min, 16mm) KB
More info at

Wim Wenders' WINGS OF DESIRE (German Revival) 
Music Box Theatre - Sunday, 6pm

In 1971, Wim Wenders and other luminaries of New German Cinema (including Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Werner Herzog, and Alexander Kluge) founded the famous Filmverlag der Autoren to produce and distribute their own films, and Wenders and Austrian novelist and playwright Peter Handke completed their first feature film collaboration, THE GOALIE'S ANXIETY AT THE PENALTY KICK (1971). Nearly twenty years later, they co-wrote WINGS OF DESIRE, a beautiful film in the tradition of the German fairytale and dedicated to the angels and to master directors Yasujiro Ozu, François Truffaut, and Andrei Tarkovsky. Wenders tells the story of an angel, Damiel (Bruno Ganz), falling in love with trapeze artist Marion (Solveig Dommartin), who flies through the air at the Circus Alekan (named in honor of the film's cinematographer, Henri Alekan). Damiel fervently desires to abandon his spiritual existence to become a human being and experience the pleasures and pains of life, particularly that of love, which can be both. He and the other angels experience the world in black and white, but Wenders uses bursts of color to indicate the magnificent difference in the way humans see it. WINGS OF DESIRE is also an ode to Berlin, recalling the city films of the early twentieth century, such as Walter Ruttmann's BERLIN: SYMPHONY OF A GREAT CITY (1927) and Dziga Vertov's MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA (1929). The original German title is DER HIMMEL UBER BERLIN, meaning The Sky, or Heaven, over Berlin. Wenders begins shooting the city from an angel's point of view in the sky, and his camera later descends to the streets, looking at or out of cars, buses, and trains. He concerns himself with Berlin's history and the stories of its people, particularly since World War II.  Recurring shots of the Berlin Wall covered in decorative graffiti figure prominently as does old war footage of air raids and of the victims they claimed lying amidst the rubble. Ultimately, WINGS OF DESIRE is a story about time—as longed for by angels, as lived by Berliners, and as experienced by us in watching the film unfold. Q & A with Sara Hall, Associate Professor of Germanic Studies at UIC, and Lorraine Groleau Darrow, Director and screenwriting faculty at DePaul University. (1987, 128 min, 35mm) CW
Jean-Pierre Melville's UN FLIC (French Revival) 
Music Box Theatre - Wednesday, 7pm

Jean-Pierre Melville's last film (released posthumously in the US in 1979) is a blue affair from top to bottom. Shot in a sickly cobalt, UN FLIC is largely affectless and methodical but no less captivating as it pairs cop (Alain Delon) and robber (Richard Crenna) as two sides of the same coin. Both are supposed friends, and both play the long game—albeit with different target: one intricately plans and executes well-timed bank heists and smuggling operations, the other is equally as calculating and patient in pursuit. Both men are infatuated with Cathy (Catherine Deneuve), adding something tangible to their otherwise inexpressive—and passively homosexual relationship. Melville is masterly in creating a mysterious and unseemly atmosphere out of seemingly very little. The extended opening heist sequence is intentionally mechanical, but it is also held together by an inherent urgency and tension. Mostly, though, Melville imparts the feeling of down-and-out apathy of going through the motions, overriding the generic film noir conventions. All the waiting and planning, false leads, sterile locales, etc., coupled with Melville's interest in showing us such things, suggests that criminal and detective might simply be filling their roles for the sake of the film and by extension the audience. Is Melville? (1972, 98 min, 35mm) BW
Both showing at part of the 3rd Annual Chicago French Film Festival
More info at



Sergei Parajanov's SHADOWS OF FORGOTTEN ANCESTORS (Soviet Revival/Special Event)
Constellation (3111 N. Western Ave.) - Friday, 9pm (doors)/9:30pm (show)

Sergei Parajanov's adaptation of Mykhailo Kotsibuynsky's novel is a sweeping epic, a Romeo and Juliet story about a boy and a girl from a small village in the Ukraine who try to overcome the animosity of their families through love. But the film is not really about the story, or its characters, but rather the wild pageant of Ukrainian village life that Parajanov and crew create through costume, landscape, and, most importantly, a unique and baroque style of camerawork. Cinematographers Yuri Ilyenko and Viktor Bestayev's camera seems totally unhinged, liable to take off running at any time, park itself miles from the action, or take on the identity of a murder weapon as it sees fit. And yet we always have the sense that the whole strange universe of the film is all around us, just out of frame. As the film goes on and the characters grow up, the profusion of technical wonders begins to slow and the story takes more of a center stage. We find ourselves in a world more D.H. Lawrence than Shakespeare, a bleak pastoral world of small farmers, bad memories, and marital frustrations (albeit hinted at with a coded Soviet prudery). But naturalism is never a priority for Parajanov or his actors, who jump back and forth between mad happiness, dull resignation, and murderous rage so quickly that it can be a little confusing. The romantic leads are wooden and stilted, but the craggy ensemble, whose expressionism and physicality borders on mime, is wonderful. Co-presented by The Chicago Underground Film Festival and The Nightingale Theatre. The screening will have a live score performed by the Eastern European inflected folk duo A Hawk and a Hacksaw, who will be playing alongside the film's soundtrack. (1965, 97 min, Digital File Projection) ML
More info at

Victor Fleming's GONE WITH THE WIND (American Revival)
Gene Siskel Film Center - Saturday, 3pm and Wednesday, 6:15pm

Critic Dave Kehr said it best about the classic film that has largely escaped in-depth critical scrutiny while likewise enjoying mass acclaim: "A critic-proof movie if there ever was one: it isn't all that good, but somehow it's great." Kehr perfectly encapsulates the mystery that is the enduring popularity of GONE WITH THE WIND, a success that can only rightly be attributed to the book's author and the film's passionate producer; according to Molly Haskell's book, Frankly My Dear: Gone With the Wind Revisited, the film had five directors, including George Cukor and Sam Wood, and though Victor Fleming was the final, credited director, it would be highly inaccurate to credit the overall result to any one of those people. Instead, it was a combination of Margaret Mitchell's best-selling book and David O. Selznick's dedication to the source material, a trait for which he was known, that elevated the film from far-fetched pipe dream to worldwide phenomenon. The critical success of an epic film is often attributed to its director, but Selznick was not interested in people looking to advance their own vision—instead, he sought to bring the story to the screen as it existed on the pages. As is also noted in Haskell's book, one critic called the film "the supreme custom-built movie," referring to the leveled process used to amalgamate all the parts that would comprise an ardent representation of the novel. Legend surrounding the film's production recalls the desperation for Clark Gable to play Rhett Butler and the serendipity with which Vivien Leigh became Scarlett O'Hara. Such lore seems to suggest an endeavor in which the sum of its parts is equal to the 'whole,' which provides a sharp contrast to several other films of the same year that are known almost solely by who directed them. Standing out amongst the crowd is William Cameron Menzies, whose art direction presents the South during the Civil War aflame with defeat and Technicolor. (1939, 238 min, 4K DCP Digital Projection) KK
More info at

Paul Gordon's THE HAPPY POET (New American)
Gene Siskel Film Center - Thursday, 8:15pm

'It's hard being in a relationship when you're unemployed,' lead character Bill (Gordon) states objectively. 'She begins to think you're a loser, and after a while, you believe you're a loser.' Unemployed, a resigned poet who has lost all of his words, Paul Gordon's character could have easily fallen into the typical self-hating, trying-to-be-witty Generation X male. But instead of wasting quick one-liners to further complain about his life, ex-poet Bill begins his life anew as an entrepreneur intent on living off his vegetarian food stand. A poet who has trouble with words, Bill encompasses the idea of transition: of wanting a change, but not knowing how to achieve it. With only a master's degree in creative writing and brief experience working in a Chinese restaurant as his only partners, the meat-eating Texan starts his business with almost no money to his name. Learning the business as he goes along from a jolly drug seller and a bum who enjoys the free food, Bill manages to stay afloat and even earn a name for himself, based on his former writing life. Finding help in the friends he makes along the way, Bill turns his business into a small success that, in turn, helps his own life prosper. Gordon creates solid characters, though this sometimes makes minor characters seem a little clichéd and underdeveloped. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that the most nuanced character is Gordon's own. THE HAPPY POET is an inspiring light comedy, dressed in wry humor delivered in the deadpan styling of Gordon. Director Gordon in person. (2010, 85 min, DCP projection) SW
More info at

Michael Klier's DER RIESE [THE GIANT] (German Documentary Revival)
White Light Cinema at the Nightingale Theatre - Saturday, 8pm

Not long after Michel Foucault's Discipline and Punish famously introduced the prison panopticon as surveillance metaphor, Michael Klier's video essay made a near-exhaustive cataloging of the myriad forms of surveillance found in early 80s Germany: from air-traffic control towers, to the gas station, to the recording of a sleep study, to the interrogation room, to shopping malls, to television broadcasts, and to the platforms of mass transit. The constantly moving CCTV cameras suggest an act of searching, their electronic gaze always shifting, looking to record something. Given the inherent subjugative power dynamics of surveillance (the observer remains anonymous and omniscient while the observed knows only of one's own observation), this panoptic gaze can only be in search of crime or deviant behavior, which brings with it an assumption of guilt. A trap waiting to be sprung. Soundtracked with both Wagner and Mahler, the audio both inflates the surveillance act into a majestic, romantic duty as well as highlighting the inherent banality of the work being conducted (see too the few moments of unmoving workers stationed at a wall of televisions). Hannah Arendt might term it the banality of privacy invasion. Underlying this surveillant concern however is the poetic, graceful display of traffic patterns (both vehicular and pedestrian), captured by the clunky, deliberate movements of the camera. DER RIESE takes its most revealing turn 45 minutes in, when, for a few minutes, we are afforded the gaze through a strip club's security camera. From an extreme high angle, shot through concealing foliage, we see two naked women dancing on a rotating stage, flanked by a handful of men. The surveillance state as peeping tom, compelled to observe all. Klier was a colleague of Harun Farocki, and it is unsurprising to see that he shares Farocki's interest in using recontextualization as a tool to decode the meaning of images. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the final moments of DER RIESE, which move us away from the CCTV footage to depict a miniature countryside, patrolled by a roving, mechanical piston-camera—an industrialized means of surveillance idealized. In this anonymous warehouse, there are no people, no cars, just a tireless god roaming the perfect German landscape, recording everything. (1983, 82 min, DVD Projection) DM
Note: White Light Cinema is a project of C-F editor Patrick Friel
More info at

Hayao Miyazaki's NAUSICAÄ OF THE VALLEY OF THE WIND (Japanese/Animation Revival)
Gene Siskel Film Center - Sunday, 4:45pm (English Dubbed) and Thursday, 6pm (Subtitled)

This is the film that made the whole Studio Ghibli animation factory operation possible, and—if we're setting aside all modesty—ushered in a veritable golden age of animation. NAUSICAÄ OF THE VALLEY OF THE WIND is in so many ways the prototypical Hayao Miyazaki film: a sprawling environmentalist parable with a headstrong female protagonist, a girl with blinding, childlike optimism who faces down a world thrown into chaos. Recurring Miyazaki themes, including his fascination with flight and his abiding love of nature, are front and center here, all wrapped up in a cavalcade of cartoon adventure for all ages. A princess with more agency, not to mention spunk, than Disney had yet to devise, Nausicaä is the favorite daughter of the Valley of the Wind, one of the world's last refuges against the ever-encroaching Toxic Jungle, the inhospitable fallout of a global war occupied by giant insects known as the Ohmu. Gradually, a larger picture of the world is painted, as neighboring military powers Tolmekia and Pejite threaten the safety of the planet in their misguided quests to push back against the Jungle. The film packs in an alarming amount of back-story, thanks largely to Nausicaä's knack for interior monologue, a habit forgivable not just because this is still ostensibly a children's film, but also for the gasp-inducing visuals that often accompany her chronic narration. Joe Hisaishi's score is a marvel too; an oscillating mix of nostalgia-inducing synthesizers and his typical swelling orchestral compositions. NAUSICAÄ remains one of Miyazaki's most arresting and under-appreciated masterpieces. (1984, 116 min, 35mm) TJ
More info at

Tim Burton's PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE (Contemporary Revival)
Music Box Theatre - Friday and Saturday, Midnight

By 1985, Paul Reubens' bow-tied TV man-child Pee-wee Herman had claimed a successful stage run, HBO series and specials, and sold-out performances at Carnegie Hall. The culmination of this popularity was PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE. The premise of the BIG ADVENTURE is simple: Pee-wee's beloved bike, an awesome cherry-red cruiser, has disappeared and, bindle in hand, Pee-wee sets across the country to recover it, come what may. In store for Pee-wee are phantom adventures on the American highway, a trip to the Alamo, and the hazards of a thousand other oddball incidents, leading to a roaring, studio-crashing finale that rivals the best of Mel Brooks. PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE is of course the feature debut of Tim Burton, who is perhaps the perfect directorial match for Reubens' funhouse comedy, and the film offers the curious objects, candy colors, and spoiled suburban malaise that have since become the hallmarks of Burton's all too successful career. Some of the comedy has become even more relevant and complex (and unintentionally ironic) as the years have gone by, such as when Dottie asks Pee-wee if he would like to take her to the movies: Pee-wee responds that there are things she doesn't know about him—"Things you wouldn't understand, things you couldn't understand...Things you shouldn't understand." The two do eventually end up at the movies together, but thankfully Dottie and the audience are spared a TAXI DRIVER moment. (1985, 90 min, 35mm) LN
More info at

John Hughes' THE BREAKFAST CLUB (Contemporary American Revival)
Landmark's Century Centre Cinema - Tuesday, 7pm

For people of a certain age, Anthony Michael Hall's voiceover that bookends this film will forever define the only roles everyone at their high school had to play: a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. And for the brat packers who formed our ensemble cast, these labels would stick with them for the rest of their careers. Watching this film makes you recall a time when Molly Ringwald (the princess) was the Emma Stone of her day, and Emilio Estevez (the athlete) was the Zach Ephron. Both were young and cute, with girl/boy-next-door good looks, and it seemed that their careers could last forever. Hall was so good as the pressure-cooked nerd who couldn't get an A in shop class that he would spend then next decade-plus trying to show his range. Ally Sheedy (the basket case) is the exception that proves the rule, as she was able to lose that label as soon as the credits rolled. Our criminal, played by the now shaggy Judd Nelson, defined cool rebellion for the better part of a decade and is surely the highlight of the film. As John Bender, he insulted the school principal right to his face ("Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?"), hid dope in his locker (and in AMH's underwear), saw through everyone's bullshit and called them out on it, and got to make out with the prom queen. John Bender was also full of some real malice, and had the cigarette burns on his arm to show us why. Ultimately, he forced a bonding ritual on his fellow high school students, and seemed to be the life of the party. He was the hero of the film, but what is left out of the diegesis may be Hughes' most important comment of all. We know that Bender's triumphant fist pump to close the movie ("Don't you...forget about me!") is the high point of his life. At best he is destined for a crappy job in a bleak suburb, stuck in a loveless marriage with kids he can't stand. At worst he's drunk and alone, recounting how he blew his last best chance with that pretty little rich girl. Easily John Hughes' most mature effort up to that point, the film encapsulated the social structure of the white, middle-class, suburban high school experience of the 1980s. It celebrated the characters and the institutional halls they roamed, but also paid respect to their anxieties and problems, and never implied that these weren't the best years of their lives. (1985, 97 min, Digital Projection - Unconfirmed Format) JH
More info here.



The Nightingale (1084 N. Milwaukee Ave.) presents A North American Animation Road Show Presented by Stefan Gruber on Tuesday at 8pm, with Gruber in person. Gruber will be presenting a selection of his animated work, some of which involve life voice performances and audience participation.

Comfort Station Logan Square (2579 N. Milwaukee Ave.) and the Chicago Film Archives present Extreme Summer Shorts (Approx. 60 min, 16mm) on Tuesday at 8pm. Screening are AN ABSOLUTELY NONAUTHORITATIVE HISTORY OF AMERICAN SPORTS (1976, produced by the City of Philadelphia), FLOATING FREE (1977, Jerry Butts), SAILING MOODS (1979, Bob Link), BMX: BICYCLE MOTOCROSS (1977, Lew V. Adams), and SKATERDATER (1965, Noel Black, color faded print). Outdoor screening; free admission.

The Northwest Chicago Film Society (at the Patio Theater) screens Joseph L. Mankiewicz's 1947 film THE LATE GEORGE APLEY (97 min, 35mm) on Wednesday at 7:30pm. Preceded by a to-be-determined cartoon.

The Silent Film Society of Chicago presents Frank Tuttle's 1926 silent Eddie Cantor film KID BOOTS (77 min, Unconfirmed Format) as part of their annual Silent Summer Film Festival at the Des Plaines Theatre (1476 Minor St., Des Plaines, IL) on Friday at 8pm. Live organ accompaniment by Tim Baker.

Black Cinema House (6901 S. Dorchester Ave.) screens Keith Miller's 2012 drama WELCOME TO PINE HILL (81 min, Blu-ray Projection) on Saturday at 6pm. Free admission. Seating is limited; email to RSVP.

Also at the Gene Siskel Film Center this week: François Ozon's 2012 French film IN THE HOUSE (105 min, 35mm) and Gilles Bourdos' 2012 French biopic RENOIR (111 min, DCP Digital Projection) screens for a week; Hayao Miyazaki's 1988 anime MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO (86 min, 35mm) is on Friday at 6:15pm and Sunday at 3pm (English Dubbed) and on Tuesday at 8:15pm (Subtitled); Martin Scorsese's 1976 film TAXI DRIVER (113 min, 4K DCP Digital Projection) is on Friday at 8pm and Tuesday at 6pm; and Steven Spielberg's 2001 film A.I. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE (145 min, 4K DCP Digital Projection) is on Saturday at 7:30pm and Monday at 6:30pm.

Also at Doc Films (University of Chicago) this week: William Wyler's 1931 film A HOUSE DIVIDED (70 min, 35mm) is on Saturday at 7 and 9pm; Joseph Losey's 1954 film THE SLEEPING TIGER (89 min, 16mm) is on Wednesday at 7pm; and Jim Trainor: The Bats, Harmony, The Magic Kingdom, The Moschops, The Presentation Theme (16mm), a great program of works by the local animator, is on Thursday at 7pm.

Also at the Music Box Theatre this week: the 3rd Annual Chicago French Film Festival runs Friday-Thursday with a dozen new and revival screenings, including Alain Resnais' new film YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHIN' YET (2012, 115 min, DCP Digital Projection). Also see UN FLIC and WINGS OF DESIRE above. Check the MB website for the full schedule; Nicolas Winding Refn's 2013 film ONLY GOD FORGIVES (90 min, Unconfirmed Format) continues; Sebastián Silva's 2013 comedy CRYSTAL FAIRY (98 min, Unconfirmed Format) is on Saturday and Sunday at 11:30am; Giancarlo Santi's 1972 Italian western THE GRAND DUEL (98 min, HDCam Video) is also on Saturday and Sunday at 11:30am; the 2013 omnibus horror film V/H/S/2 (96 min) is on Friday and Saturday at Midnight; and a free sneak preview (RSVP on the MB website) of Matthias Hoene's 2012 horror comedy COCKNEYS VS ZOMBIES (88 min, Unconfirmed Format) is on Thursday at 9:30pm.

Facets Cinémathèque screens Jon Wright's 2012 Irish film GRABBERS (94 min, Unconfirmed Format) for a week's run; and Tamra Davis' 1995 comedy BILLY MADISON (89 min, Video Projection - Unconfirmed Format) is the Facets Night School film on Saturday at Midnight, with an introduction by Bobby Budds.

Also at Landmark's Century Centre Cinema this week: Gabriela Cowperthwaite's 2013 documentary BLACKFISH (83 min) and Michael McGowan's 2012 drama STILL MINE (102 min) both open; and Terry Jones' 1979 Monty Python comedy LIFE OF BRIAN (94 min) is on Friday and Saturday at Midnight. All Digital Projection - Unconfirmed Format).

The Whistler presents the Odd Obsession Foreign Film Series, screening Werner Herzog's 1970 film EVEN DWARFS STARTED SMALL (96 min, DVD Projection) on Saturday at 7pm). Followed by Impala Sound Champion DJs at 9pm.

The Blue Whiskey Independent Film Festival continues at the Cutting Hall Performing Arts Center (150 E. Wood St., Palatine, IL) through July 28. For more information and complete schedule, visit

The Museum of Contemporary Art screens Terry Zwigoff's 2001 film GHOST WORLD (111 min, DVD Projection) on Saturday at 6pm; and Zwigoff's 2006 film ART SCHOOL CONFIDENTIAL (102 min, DVD Projection) on Saturday at 8:30pm. Both screenings introduced by comic scholar Hillary Chute (University of Chicago), author of Graphic Women: Life Narrative and Contemporary Comics.

At various Chicago Public Library branches this week: William L. Cochran 2011 drama ENGLEWOOD: THE GROWING PAINS IN CHICAGO (96 min) is at the Woodson Regional Branch (9525 S. Halsted St.) on Saturday at 1:30pm; Ian Cheney's 2011 documentary THE CITY DARK (60 min) is at the Roden Branch (6083 N. Northwest Highway) on Tuesday at 6pm; Matthew A. Cherry's 2012 drama THE LAST FALL (98 min) is at the Douglass Branch (3353 W. 13th St.) on Tuesday at 5:30pm; and Pamela Sherrod Anderson's 2011 documentary THE CURATORS OF DIXON SCHOOL (80 min) is at the Legler Branch (115 S. Pulaski Rd.) on Wednesday at 5:30pm. All DVD Projection. All free admission.

The Chicago Cultural Center continues the Cinema/Chicago international film series with Songyos Sugmakanan's 2011 Thai film THE BILLIONAIRE (131 min, Video Projection - Unconfirmed Format) on Saturday at 2pm; and Yong-Joo Lee's 2012 South Koran film ARCHITECTURE 101 (118 min, Video Projection - Unconfirmed Format) on Wednesday at 6:30p (repeats August 3). Free admission.

The Logan Square International Film Series at Comfort Station Logan Square (2579 N. Milwaukee Ave.) screens Steve Barron's 1984 film ELECTRIC DREAMS (95 min, DVD Projection) on Wednesday at dusk. Free admission.

The Logan Theatre screens Brian De Palma's 1983 film SCARFACE (170 min, Unconfirmed Format) on Friday, Saturday, and Monday at 11pm; and Sergio Leone's 1966 western THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY (161 min, Unconfirmed Format) on Thursday at 11pm.



The Portage Theatre remains closed for the foreseeable future.

The Patio Theater will not be doing its own programming during the summer (tentatively resuming sometime in September) due to the excessive costs to repair their air conditioning system. The Northwest Chicago Film Society will be holding its screenings there, however, and additional special events may take place there.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

CINE-LIST: July 26 - August 1, 2013

Patrick Friel

CONTRIBUTORS / Kian Bergstrom, Michael Castelle, Jason Halprin, Tristan Johnson, Kat C. Keish, Mojo Lorwin, Doug McLaren, Liam Neff, Shealey Wallace, Brian Welesko, Candace Wirt, Darnell Witt

> Editorial Statement -> Contact