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, AUG. 30 - Thursday, SEPT. 5 ::


Erich von Stroheim's GREED (Silent American Revival)
Northbrook Public Library (1201 Cedar Lane, Northbrook) - Wednesday, 1 and 7:30pm (Free Admission)

Spoilers!  The story of GREED, of von Stroheim's slavish fidelity to the text of Frank Norris's Naturalist novel, McTeague, of his obsessive, tyrannical treatment of his actors while on location for months in Death Valley, of MGM's butchering of his 8-hour cut into shreds and melting down the cut scenes for scrap silver, is surely so legendary that whatever dubious relationship to truth it once had is no longer relevant. It is the go-to example to illustrate so many spurious arguments: the impossibility of 'straight' adaptation, the dangers of trusting the Money Men, the dangers of allowing directors too much freedom, and so on. Von Stroheim's lost original version has become, not merely a sort of Holy Grail of silent cinema enthusiasts but an Icarian fable all it's own, warning through example of the punishment meted out to the hubristically ambitious, the psychotic perfectionist. But let us set all this aside, for GREED is so very much more than a mere legend. Quite simply, in this critic's estimation, GREED is the single best film ever made. Let me be clear: the GREED that was taken out of von Stroheim's hands, that Thalberg and his hackworkers took to pieces, the GREED that von Stroheim found so upsetting to watch years later that he compared seeing it to peering into a coffin—this shortened, adulterated, mutilated, damaged, and disavowed movie is the best I've ever seen. Whatever von Stroheim's original version might have actually been, the intensity, power, and overwhelming beauty of the GREED we have far outweighs the longing we might feel for the GREED we don't. There's a tremendous amount in GREED to discuss—its discussions of capitalism and violence, the masterful handling of a romance poisoned over time by its own lovers, the complex network of symbolism echoing through its iconography, the emotive and heart-rending performances by Zasu Pitts and Gibson Gowland. But think now just of the closing moments of the film. Having murdered his wife, McTeague has fled the authorities into the desolation of Death Valley, pursued to the end by his friend and betrayer, Marcus. Marcus has McTeague at gunpoint. McTeague's horse suddenly bolts, carrying off with itself the only canteen of water left between the two men, and Marcus, panicked, shoots the animal. What follows is the most moving moment in any work of art I know of, delivered through the crystalline perfection of von Stroheim's direction: a close up of a pair of fists, a lolling, crushed head, the briefest of kisses pressed atop a freed canary. As the visual patterning draws to a close, McTeague's avariciousness has proven itself the greatest, but it is the world itself that will dominate him, exterminate him, and indeed, as Nature must, forget him. No film more magically dwells on, depends on the fleshy interstices that we do our level best to imagine separate us from mere beasts, more tragically understands the depths of depravity humanity will sink to in any effort to maintain the illusion of civilization. In that rift between our selves and our actions, our dreams, pouring out like the film's bloodied gold through a dead horse's saddlebags, never fail in von Stroheim's world to be the final casualties. (1925, 140 min., Unconfirmed Format, though the library almost always shows prints, so we suspect 35mm or 16mm) KB
More info at

Onion City Experimental Film and Video Festival - Opening Night Program
Gene Siskel Film Center — Thursday, 8:15pm

Now in it's 25th year, the Onion City Experimental Film and Video Festival, produced by Chicago Filmmakers, opens this Thursday at the Gene Siskel Film Center and continues next week at Columbia College and the Music Box (check next week's list for more information). The festival is an absolutely vital resource for Chicago—providing the most exciting and the most passionate cinema you'll likely see this year. Opening night of the festival is always especially exciting in that the largest names and the largest formats are usually reserved for the Film Center's space. Tonight we'll get to see SOLAR SITE III, a new 16mm film by Lawrence Jordan, who has been making mind-blowing animated delights since the late 1950s. I AM MICRO by Shai Heredia and Shumona Goel is a mournful trip around an Indian film factory shot in beautiful 35mm black and white. Phil Solomon's THE EMBLAZONED APPARITIONS crackles and melts early film imagery with shimmering beauty. Ben Rivers chops and collages a photographer friend's archive in PHANTOMS OF A LIBERTINE, a work unlike any of River's others. The universally beloved Jodie Mack brings us a new 16mm delight, BLANKET STATEMENT 2: IT'S ALL OR NOTHING. Also screening is a new 35mm piece from James Sansing, and new digital pieces from Deborah Stratman, Neil Henderson, Alfred Guzzetti, and David Gatten(!). (2010-13, approx. 94 min total, Various Formats) JBM
Note: Onion City is organized and programmed by C-F editor Patrick Friel.
More info at

Gus Van Sant's MALA NOCHE (American Independent Revival)
Doc Films (University of Chicago) - Saturday, 7 and 9pm

The highly erratic career of Gus Van Sant is comprised of rabid contradictions—not only between his "commercial" and "personal" projects, but between the divergent ideas of character, plot, pacing, and the modes of address deployed in each. A calculated awards season striver like MILK shows Van Sant at his most evasive—taking a heroic figure like Harvey Milk and turning the nasally, paunchy, resolutely flaming queen into a solidly monogamous, essentially de-sexualized, non-threatening gay spokesman that even Middle America can embrace. The "play nice" ethos of Van Sant's recent output is nowhere evident in the director's debut feature, MALA NOCHE. From the first frames of this low-budget regional wonder, we encounter a literally throbbing need to "drink this Mexican boy." (Fittingly, Van Sant financed this innately subversive film with his Madison Avenue ad agency earnings.) Every shot in MALA NOCHE exudes a blunt insistence upon sex right this minute—a sensibility notably absent from the well-behaved, inspirational independent features that have dominated LGBT film festivals in recent years. (MALA NOCHE isn't the kind of film where someone's conservative mother reluctantly learns to accept her child's queerness after realizing that gays know all the best showtunes.) The infrequent bursts of color are, like the rest of the movie, ecstatic and sad. (1985, 78 min, 35mm) KAW 
More info at

Richard Linklater's Before Trilogy (American Revival/New American)
Gene Siskel Film Center
BEFORE SUNRISE (Saturday, 2:15pm, Sunday at 3pm, and Wednesday at 6:30pm)

A French woman and an American man (Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke) spontaneously disembark from a train in Vienna and spend the afternoon, evening, and wee hours of the morning together—talking, walking, listening, flirting. Before this slender movie became the opening chapter of a trilogy, it was easy to dismiss its premise as flattering, post-collegiate wish fulfillment—a narcissistic ode to pitter-prattle interpersonal profundity that bears a striking proximity to resoundingly conventional male fantasies. Yes, but—viewing BEFORE SUNRISE in narrowly heterosexual terms or pigeonholing it as a precociously alt-Gen X love story would be enormous errors. More so than any screen romance I know, BEFORE SUNRISE exalts the pliability of gender roles and records a desperate, joyous urge to inhabit another person's consciousness. (By contrast, the deflationary exhaustion of BEFORE MIDNIGHT endorses a middle-aged imperative to live in one's own stubborn body and to ridicule and repudiate youthful idealism; but see below for an alternate opinion.) The closest direct antecedent to the radical vision of BEFORE SUNRISE is Jean Vigo's L'ATALANTE, but that film is about characters who can't talk to each other, who thrash about and dream of faraway cities and disembodied hands in jars. BEFORE SUNRISE, instead, is about the endlessly fecund possibility of connection. When Delpy sits in a restaurant, leans into her imaginary telephone, and belches, "Hey dude, what's up?," we're witnessing one of the most quietly utopian moments in movies. In another one of BEFORE SUNRISE's key moments, we watch Delpy and Hawke in a cramped record booth, listening to a Kath Bloom LP and trying so hard to conceal their mutual interest in one another: she cannot let him know that she's looking at him, just as surely as she must not know that he's looking at her. It's a scene that bedeviled Robin Wood's famously inexhaustible powers of analysis, perhaps because the content, form, and emotion are thoroughly irreducible and inseparable. In this movie, where people cannot help but reveal the totality of themselves to strangers, a single glance could prove fatal. Eschewing the concentrated intensity of its even finer follow-up, BEFORE SUNRISE manages to present a parade of deftly sketched supporting characters as well, none appearing for more than a minute or two but each suggesting an infinite expanse of possible feeling outside of Delpy and Hawke's bodies. A landmark of modern cinema. (1995, 101 min, 35mm) KAW
BEFORE SUNSET (Saturday, 4:15pm, Sunday, 5pm, and Wednesday, 8:30pm)

Each film in the Delpy/Hawke/Linklater BEFORE series has succeeded as a dialogue by being, in reality, a trialogue—with the screenwriting a collective process, the content is always closer to WAKING LIFE than MY DINNER WITH ANDRE, a lattice of thoughts and ideas, sequentially highlighted in each new setting and context. The character of Jesse, for example, can be initially characterized by an unlikely oscillation between "Ethan Hawke" mode—the disenchanted downtown celebrity who'd rather keep it real writing novels, turning down blockbusters, and picking up girls in the Chelsea Hotel lobby—and "Richard Linklater" mode: the everyman intellectual, reading voluminous quantities of philosophy and literature but deliberately never using any words a freshman UT stoner wouldn't use. And in BEFORE SUNSET, Celine becomes rather more "Julie Delpy"—a dedicated artist and musician (and now, composer and director)—with Delpy's own songs (from her self-titled 2003 album on the Belgian PIAS label) bookending the film. The ingeniously relaxed acting and Steadicam cinematography is especially impressive given that the location shooting here (much more so than 1990s Vienna in the middle of the night) was undoubtedly a total nightmare; more so than its engaged interrogation of the possibility of thoughtful and reflexive romantic love among creative artists, filming 15 straight summer mornings in Paris without filling the frame with tourists might be the most heroic achievement of the entire series. (2004, 80 min, 35mm) MC
BEFORE MIDNIGHT (Check Venue website for showtimes)

Told in a few, spare movements, BEFORE MIDNIGHT reacquaints the audience with Celine and Jesse—whom have been together for some years now—rather than each other, as in the chance or bittersweet meetings of the previous films. Gone is the giddy romance and impressing-by-way-of-theorizing of their youthful first encounter. Instead, almost twenty years and one movie later, Celine and Jesse are now in their 40s and have grown into themselves, their lives, and their choices. On extended holiday in Greece with their children, Celine and Jesse's conversations feel so natural, so mired in the details of their life, that the exuberance of ideas about love and the fullness of life are far more weighted here. Though together as a result of their genuine loving bond, BEFORE MIDNIGHT openly and boldly questions why they remain connected. A lengthy scene during dinner with friends young and old allows for an egalitarian discussion of just this idea, expressing in a different way what Linklater's films are: interim reports on the shifting definition of love as we age. The scene also sets up one of the most remarkable quarrels on film, elegantly shot and staged. The abundance of interpersonal connection is followed by a gradual understanding of the inherent separateness of their lives, yet they maintain an ongoing union out of something much more than convenience or habit. Is this love? It's close enough. (2013, 109 min, DCP Digital Projection) BW
More info at


David Fincher's THE SOCIAL NETWORK (American Revival) 
Gene Siskel Film Center - Saturday, 6pm and Thursday, 6pm

In his essay for the Criterion Collection DVD release of David Fincher's THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON, critic Kent Jones had this to say about the film whose protagonist defies time: "Just as in [Fincher's] ZODIAC, there is an extremely precise sense of what it's like to be alive in a certain place, during a certain time, from moment to moment. It's not just the curtains and the clothing and the music and the cars that are right, but the gestures, the sounds, the blending of the public and the private, the way that every sign of this or that filtered through personal experience." Though he's primarily talking about a film in which a man ages backwards and referencing a film about a serial killer from the 60s and 70s, his remarks ring especially true for one of Fincher's more recently released films. THE SOCIAL NETWORK is an "extremely precise" representation of that which it is portraying, but as with most Fincher films, there's a catch: it isn't a story about bygone times or set in the typical alternate universe of narrative cinema, but instead is a film based on true events that took place within the last decade. In 2004, Harvard freshman Mark Zuckerberg revolutionized the way we communicate from his dorm room. Just six years later, Fincher made a film about the origins of his creation, Facebook, and those who brought it to fruition. Fincher's distinct style of filmmaking has worked wonderfully with those previously mentioned "bygone times," but his styling of such recent events exemplifies Fincher's status as a current master of American cinema. One could argue that it is more difficult to capture the essence of a time still fresh in memory, and Fincher's technical expertise, along with his excellent choice in cinematographers (Jeff Cronenweth for THE SOCIAL NETWORK, Harris Savides for previous collaborations), exhibit Fincher's ability to overcome that conundrum. One scene in particular feels oddly out of place—Edvard Grieg's "In the Hall of the Mountain King", performed by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross for the film's soundtrack, crescendos as the infamous Winklevoss twins participate in the prestigious Henley Royal Regatta. This scene feels more like an ode to yesteryear rather than a depiction of modern-day life, complete with a concert band and men in boater hats. It feels most alien in its focus on a physical activity, with the Winklevoss' arduous rowing providing a strict contrast to the seemingly lazy lifestyles of the programming clan. But despite their healthy lifestyles and go-getter attitudes, the Winklevoss twins lose the race, and while they would eventually win their lawsuit, they are shown in Fincher's film to be continuously skimming the surface of true success. Zuckerberg blended the public and the private to create a beacon of modern communication as we know it, and Fincher uses both of those aspects of the real-life events to filter out the zeitgeist. And not dissimilar to ZODIAC, it's a scary one in which fresh air is passé and pernicious obsession is all the rage. (2010, 120 min, DCP Digital Projection) KK
More info at

Michael Palmieri and Donal Mosher's OFF LABEL (New Documentary) 
Facets Cinémathèque - Check Venue website for showtimes

In an era where documentaries can easily be made with a flip camera or a cell phone, quality, for some, can seem diminished with the expansion of affordable recording devices.  Anyone can create a manifesto with no regards to the art, and only focusing on the message at hand—much akin to stale instructional videos. Therefore, it is always refreshing to find a film where each shot brings an onslaught of enchanting and disarming visuals, of successfully balancing the repellent and the intriguing to create a richer viewing experience. Exploring the excesses and haphazard practices of the American private pharmaceutical industry, filmmakers Palmieri and Mosher bypass the sell pitch of the industry and instead focus on the people that it most directly impacts. Weaving together eight interviews and covering subjects ranging from the unusual tale of a 'professional' guinea pig to the familiar story of a war veteran suffering from PTSD from citizens of a town where people make a pilgrimage to die, the filmmakers present personal narratives from all across the U.S., each person a victim of the excessive, legal drug culture of the country. The connections between the subjects' various experiences are sometimes disjointed, and the film alternates too much between more fully formed ideas and fragments. But the eclectic group of interviewees and their individual stories keeps the attention of the viewer. OFF LABEL may falter at times in the coherence of its message, but the power and strong delivery of its subjects is compelling and it raises important questions about the current state of medical care and practices. (2012, 80 min, Unconfirmed Format) SW
More info at

Roman Polanski's TESS (English/French Revival) 
Gene Siskel Film Center - Sunday, 7pm and Monday, 3:15pm

"Like everyone else, I was disappointed by TESS," François Truffaut wrote about Roman Polanski's adaptation of the Thomas Hardy classic. Like everyone else, Truffaut likely expected more from the director who seemed born to bring Hardy's tale of social inequality and sexual licentiousness to the big screen. Instead, that which could have been outwardly dark and dreary was rendered deceptively light by the most unusual of suspects. At his most artful, Polanski lurks underneath the pretty dresses and around the lush landscapes to expose a darkness hiding just below the seemingly brilliant surfaces. After discovering that her family is tangentially related to a noble one of yore, the film's protagonist, a young girl named Tess, is thrust into the outer fringes of a society to which she doesn't belong and then objectified by its male inhabitants as punishment for her inclusion. The first man to do so, her cousin Alec, asserts his dominance through overbearing flattery and underwhelming force; the story's central action, Tess's rape at the hands of that alleged cousin, is almost inconsequential. She is just as much a victim of her social circumstances as she is of a forced sexual encounter. Similar themes abound in the works of Hardy and Polanski, as both often focus on marginalized characters persecuted at the behest of an ambivalent civilization. The second man to do her wrong is the ironically named Angel Clare; though named after a heavenly being and born into a family of God's servants, it is Angel who betrays Tess in the most despicable way. Where Alec ravages her body, Angel ravages her soul, and Polanski's cinematic objectification of Tess further reflects that she is looked at by these men, but never truly seen. Polanski uses a bait-and-switch shooting style to first invite viewers into Tess's perspective and then alienate them from it. Wide shots of various landscapes serve as transitional devices, often framing Tess against her upcoming obstacles, and further presenting her as an inconsequential figure up against the only world she knows. At the time of its release, many decried the film as a standard period drama, but its masterful cinematography betrays Polanski's artifice; the outward naturalism enforces Tess's purity, even as a tortured soul, and exemplifies society's hypocrisy. The film was shot by two cinematographers: the late, great Geoffrey Unsworth, whose credits included 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY and CABARET, and Ghislain Cloquet, who took over after Unsworth died during filming. Polanski's first film after fleeing the U.S., it marks the beginning of his self-imposed exile in traditional Polanski fashion: by utilizing the bountiful beauties of Europe (both female and geographic) to evaluate the sexual duplicity of the rest of the world. (1980, 171 min, New Restoration - DCP Digital Projection) KK 
More info at

Federico Veiroj's A USEFUL LIFE (Contemporary Uruguayan)
Cinema/Chicago at the Chicago Cultural Center (78 E. Washington St.) - Saturday, 2pm (Free Admission)

It's not surprising that A USEFUL LIFE was a favorite on the festival circuit among film programmers and others of the cinephilic persuasion: its protagonist, Jorge (played with a fine reserve by Uruguayan film critic Jorge Jellinek), has worked tirelessly at the Cinemateca Uruguaya for 25 years. Scenes depicting projector problems, audiences of six for Erich von Stroheim's GREED, and a filmmaker's polite, but frustrated, inquiry into the aperture plate that's being used (all the more painful because of his politeness) should ring familiar to most programmers. But this insider minutiae does not circumscribe the film in a world only accessible to film geeks; instead, it is a means to illuminate character. The details of Jorge's life unfold in a similar manner to the domestic rituals we see in Chantal Akerman's JEANNE DIELMAN, providing insight into hidden aspects of personality and, perhaps, psychology. Jorge's passionate focus on film determines his identity and defines the boundaries of the world he lives in—a world that is slowly disappearing (did we mention the audience of six?) and then, suddenly, is gone. The second half of the film finds Jorge negotiating the real world, outside of the Cinematheque, and we watch to see if he is successful moving from the shadow to the light. Director Veiroj's second feature is unpretentious and charming; it is imbued with a sense of love for film (conjuring tonal parallels to many different films and filmmakers, including Manoel de Oliveira, whom the Cinemateca is celebrating with a 100th anniversary retrospective during the film). Over the course of the movie, this love for film opens up to a love for life—cinema has taught Jorge to see past the screen to the wider world around him. Showing as part of Cinema/Chicago's international film series. (2010, 67 min, Video Projection - Unconfirmed Format) PF
More info here.

Guido Brignone's MACISTE IN HELL (Silent Italian Revival)
Logan Square International Film Series at Comfort Station Logan Square (2579 N. Milwaukee Ave.) - Wednesday at Dusk (approx. 8pm) (Free Admission)

Despite international success with a number of costume epics in the 1910s, the Italian film industry was never the same after WWI (at least until after WWII, with Rossellini and others revitalizing film there). By the mid-1920s, Italy was only producing roughly ten features a year. MACISTE, from 1925, reaches back to the teens with its combination of the two dominant genres of that period: melodrama and the epic. Not a great work of cinema, MACISTE is still an entertaining and robust film about a virtuous "strong man," Maciste, who is lured to the underworld and is in danger of spending eternity there. The visuals are engaging, though everything feels like a 1903 Georges Méliès film on a bigger budget. It doesn't matter, though. The film has vim and is charming in its shortcomings. Showing with live music by [[[se am ripp er]]]. (1925, 66 min, DVD Projection) PF
More info at



The Nightingale (1084 N. Milwaukee Ave.) presents Tender Muscles: Films by Charles Fairbanks (2009-10, approx. 74 min total, Digital Projection) on Saturday at 8pm, with Fairbanks in person. The program of experimental documentaries includes THE MEN, WRESTLING WITH MY FATHER, PIONEERS, IRMA, and FLEXING MUSCLES.

Forever & Always (1905 W. 21st Place) screens Sam Davis' experimental film SLOWLY WE ROT (Unconfirmed Year, Running Time, Format) on Sunday at 8pm. A reception for the related exhibition begins at 7pm, and a discussion between Davis and writer Bryce Dwyer is at 9pm.

Terror in the Aisles and the McHenry Outdoor Theater Present The Drive-In Massacre! on Friday and Saturday (same program each night) at the McHenry Outdoor Theater (1510 Chapel Hill Rd., McHenry, IL). Gates open at 7pm, then at 8:30pm it's Fred Dekker's 1987 film MONSTER SQUAD (82 min, 35mm), with director Dekker in person; Lucio Fulci's 1979 film ZOMBIE (91 min, 35mm) is at 10:30pm; Robert Hiltzik's 1983 film SLEEPAWAY CAMP (88 min, 35mm) is at 12:30am; and Mario Bava's 1973 film HOUSE OF EXORCISM (aka LISA AND THE DEVIL) (92 min, 35mm) is at 2:15am. The event is a benefit for the theater to install digital projection; admission is $10 per person, $5 for kids under 12. 

The Northwest Chicago Film Society (at the Patio Theater) screens Ernst Lubitsch's 1932 film ONE HOUR WITH YOU (80 min, 35mm) on Wednesday at 7:30pm.

Also at the Northbrook Public Library (1201 Cedar Lane, Northbrook) this week: the 1953 Disney animated film PETER PAN (77 min, Unconfirmed Format, though we suspect a film print) screens Saturday at 2 and 7:30pm. Free admission. More info at

Chicago Filmmakers (5243 N. Clark St.) presents The Relativity of Motion on Friday at 8pm, in the parking lot behind their building (1478 W. Farragut Ave.). Screening are Charles Wiener's RUMBA (1989), Janice Findley's BEYOND KABUKI (1986), Hilary Harris' NINE VARIATIONS ON A DANCE THEME (1966), Bob Rogers' BALLET ROBOTIQUE (1982), and Christine Loizeaux's SLAPHAPPENING (1984). All 16mm.

Black Cinema House (6901 S. Dorchester Ave.) screens Frank Peregini 1927 silent black cast film THE SCAR OF SHAME (85 min, DVD Projection) on Saturday at 6pm, with live musical accompaniment by Peter Speer (Modular Synthesizer and Electronics) and Alejandro Acierto (Contrabass Clarinet). Co-Presented by Experimental Sound Studio. Seating is limited; see the BCH website for RSVP instructions.

Also at the Gene Siskel Film Center this week: Sam Peckinpah's 1974 film BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA (112 min, DCP Digital Projection) screens on Friday and Tuesday at 6pm; David Fincher's 2011 film THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (158 min, DCP Digital Projection) is on Saturday at 3pm and Wednesday at 6:30pm; and Anne Fontaine's 2011 film MY WORST NIGHTMARE (103 min, DCP Digital Projection) is on Friday and Saturday at 8:15pm and Sunday at 3 and 5pm.

Also at Doc Films (University of Chicago) this week is King Baggot's 1925 silent William S. Hart western TUMBLEWEEDS (78 min, 16mm) on Friday at 10pm (yeah, we know—10pm??).

At the Music Box Theatre this week: David Lowery's 2013 film AIN'T THEM BODIES SAINTS (96 min) and Ziad Doueiri's 2012 film THE ATTACK (102 min) both open; Robert Hartford-Davis' 1968 British horror film CORRUPTION (91 min, New Restoration - DCP Digital Projection) and Joshua Oppenheimer, Christine Cyn, and Anonymous' 2012 documentary THE ACT OF KILLING THE ACT OF KILLING (116 min) are the 11:30am Saturday and Sunday matinees; and the Friday and Saturday Midnight films are local filmmaker Spencer Parsons' new independent horror film SATURDAY MORNING MYSTERY (2012, 83 min), with director Parsons in person, and Martin Brest's 1988 film MIDNIGHT RUN (126 min, 35mm). Unconfirmed Formats, except where noted.

Also at Facets Cinémathèque this week: Renny Harlin's 2013 suspense film DEVIL'S PASS (100 min, Unconfirmed Format) screens on Friday and Saturday at 11pm.

Landmark's Century Centre Cinema opens Wong Kar-Wai's 2013 film THE GRANDMASTER (108 min U.S. release cut, Digital Projection - Unconfirmed Format) and Ziad Doueiri's 2012 film THE ATTACK (102 min, Digital Projection - Unconfirmed Format).

The Logan Theatre screens Michael Curtiz's 1942 classic CASABLANCA (102 min) on Friday at 10:30pm; Tim Burton's 1985 film PEE- WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE (90 min) on Saturday at 10:30pm; Steven Spielberg's 1984 film INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM (118 min) on Sunday at 10:30pm; and Ivan Reitman's 1984 film GHOSTBUSTERS (105 min) on Monday at 10:30pm. All Unconfirmed Format.

 The Chicago Public Library's West Town Branch (1625 W. Chicago Ave.) screens Natalia Almada's 2005 music documentary AL OTRO LADO (TO THE OTHER SIDE) (70 min, Video Projection - Unconfirmed Format) on Thursday at 6pm. Free admission.

Also at the Chicago Cultural Center this week: the Cinema/Chicago international film series continues with Clarissa Campolina and Helvécio Marins Jr.'s 2012 Brazilian film SWIRL (90 min, DVD Projection) on Wednesday at 6:30pm (repeats on September 7). Free admission.

The DuSable Museum screens Thomas Allen Harris' 2005 documentary TWELVE DISCIPLES OF NELSON MANDELA (75 min, Video Projection - Unconfirmed Format) on Sunday at 2pm.


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: August 30 - September 5, 2013

Patrick Friel

CONTRIBUTORS / Kian Bergstrom, Michael Castelle, Kat C. Keish, Josh B. Mabe, Shealey Wallace, Kyle A. Westphal, Brian Welesko, Darnell Witt

> Editorial Statement -> Contact