Mubi is hosting the exclusive global premiere of Gary Walkow's Radio Mary (2017), which will be showing November 28 - December 28, 2017.Gary Walkow’s filmmaking career has a peculiar shape. For a while he looked like a low-key American indie success story waiting for his breakthrough. His first feature The Trouble With Dick shared the Grand Prize at the 1987 Us Film Festival, which was renamed to Sundance a few years later. Notes From Underground (1995), a modern-day Dostoyevsky adaptation, premiered at Toronto and got good reviews and a modest bit of distribution; but Beat (2000), with Kiefer Sutherland and Courtney Love as Bill and Joan Burroughs, had a rocky reception at Sundance and seemed to mark the end of Indiewood’s flirtation with Walkow. After a hiatus that included an unfinished film, Walkow’s career began a second, more clandestine phase with Crashing (2007), a very low-budget comedy that eventually received DVD distribution, boosted...
- 11/28/2017
- MUBI
Gary Walkow's The Trouble with Dot & Harry is one of those extremely rare family comedies that is funny and sweet, yet so incredibly intelligent. All of the moments feel incredibly authentic, as if they have been lived through by the screenwriter, lending the story the feel of a memoir. (Note: Walkow is Dot and Harry's real-life father.) Walkow brilliantly captures the awkward and uncomfortable moments as Richard flounders his way around child care. Richard constantly finds himself negotiating with the kids, as they are always pushing boundaries and testing limits. Dot and Harry try to learn as much as they can about this strange man, whether it be by Google searches or sneaking their mother's signed copy of The Trouble with Dick (Richard's first novel) along on the road trip. Richard learns an important lesson: by treating Dot and Harry like adults, he earns their respect and admiration.
- 1/28/2015
- by Don Simpson
- SmellsLikeScreenSpirit
The most extensive previews of this year's Slamdance, opening tonight and running through Thursday, come from Paul Sbrizzi at Hammer to Nail and Twitch. Sbrizzi has notes on Perry Blackshear's They Look Like People, Pavan Moondi and Brian Robertson's Diamond Tongues, Patrick Ryan's Darkness on the Edge of Town, Alexandre Paschoalini's Asco, Johanna Moder's High Performance, Jiyoung Lee's Female Pervert, Gary Walkow's The Trouble with Dot and Harry and Stephen Richter's Birds of Neptune, plus two documentaries, Maurizius Sterkle Drux’s Concrete Love – The Böhm Family and Paul-Julien Robert's My Fathers, My Mother and Me. We'll be collecting full-blown reviews as they appear. » - David Hudson...
- 1/23/2015
- Fandor: Keyframe
The most extensive previews of this year's Slamdance, opening tonight and running through Thursday, come from Paul Sbrizzi at Hammer to Nail and Twitch. Sbrizzi has notes on Perry Blackshear's They Look Like People, Pavan Moondi and Brian Robertson's Diamond Tongues, Patrick Ryan's Darkness on the Edge of Town, Alexandre Paschoalini's Asco, Johanna Moder's High Performance, Jiyoung Lee's Female Pervert, Gary Walkow's The Trouble with Dot and Harry and Stephen Richter's Birds of Neptune, plus two documentaries, Maurizius Sterkle Drux’s Concrete Love – The Böhm Family and Paul-Julien Robert's My Fathers, My Mother and Me. We'll be collecting full-blown reviews as they appear. » - David Hudson...
- 1/23/2015
- Keyframe
The writer and king of London psychogeography is curating a season of 70 classic and unusual films throughout his 70th birthday year, presented in cinemas and quirky venues across the capital. Here he explains the project's genesis
Approaching a birthday I had no particular desire to record or commemorate, I was seduced by an enticing offer: the opportunity to nominate 70 films, one for each year survived. The man floating this folly across the table of the Little Georgia restaurant on Hackney's Goldsmith's Row was Paul Smith, underground impresario and secret magus of King Mob, Blast First, Disobey, and other shortlived but potent cultural manifestations. We had some previous, through a series of spoken-word CDs involving Ken Kesey, Charles Bukowski, the Black Panthers, Stewart Home. The CDs existed and I had copies to prove it, but they never really made the transit from warehouse to retail counter. I had performed, under Paul's promotion,...
Approaching a birthday I had no particular desire to record or commemorate, I was seduced by an enticing offer: the opportunity to nominate 70 films, one for each year survived. The man floating this folly across the table of the Little Georgia restaurant on Hackney's Goldsmith's Row was Paul Smith, underground impresario and secret magus of King Mob, Blast First, Disobey, and other shortlived but potent cultural manifestations. We had some previous, through a series of spoken-word CDs involving Ken Kesey, Charles Bukowski, the Black Panthers, Stewart Home. The CDs existed and I had copies to prove it, but they never really made the transit from warehouse to retail counter. I had performed, under Paul's promotion,...
- 7/16/2013
- by Iain Sinclair
- The Guardian - Film News
Casting has officially begin for Gary Walkow's Callers, which begins shooting June 3 in Los Angeles. In this dark comedy a law student gets a telephone call from his fiancée after she is in a car accident ...in which she was killed. From then on, he finds himself on a party-line with the dead, who keep horning in on conversations and demanding that he help them out, which ends up getting him implicated in an unsolved murder.
- 4/21/2008
- bloody-disgusting.com
Film review: 'The Beat'
If you're fanatic about getting a film into a film festival, making one about the "beat" writers, namely the triumvirate of Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs and Jack Kerouac, would be a shrewd way to win favor among the various festival programmers. Such "cats" tend to go for those sorts of things. If this sensational but leaden story were made about anyone not famous, it's unlikely that it would see the light of a single projector. Stagnant, redundant and utterly moribund, "The Beat" is noteworthy only in its encapsulation of some of the more tawdry moments in the early lives of these writers. Possible distribution will rest mainly only on the power of its principals, Kiefer Sutherland and Courtney Love, to draw offbeat audiences.
Even someone who has never inhaled or imbibed might recognize the desultory highs that pass for brilliance among those getting "lit." In writer-director Gary Walkow's distillation of a "true story," we come upon writers Burroughs, Ginsberg and, for a nanosecond, Kerouac, in their formative years. We meet them in early 1944 as they gather around the apartment of one rather daring and nubile Columbia student, Joan (Love), who has a yen for "Ben" and uses her flashy charms to induce the local druggist to load her up with not only Benzedrine but some other happening prescription drugs.
Joan's enclave is not exactly a salon in the Paris literary sense; it's more reminiscent of the geek wing of a freshman dorm, save for the appearance of the older, more urbane Burroughs (Sutherland). Poseurs and poets, they prattle about large romantic quests -- in this particular instance about Kerouac's failed attempt to take a merchant vessel to Paris for the liberation of Europe. But mostly they get lit and grope about for romance; the steamiest is a young writer named Lucien's (Norman Reedus) dalliance with Dave (Kyle Secor), a gay man who has fallen for him. Things later get nasty when Lucien spurns Dave's advances and stabs him to death. This causes some discomfort among the group, and Lucien goes off to prison for a while.
We're not sure what anyone's moral -- or even artistic -- reaction is to this killing, but it doesn't matter since filmmaker Walkow transports us seven years hence into Mexico and the off-road adventures of Burroughs and Joan, who have now taken up. It's not your standard '50s pairing, since he's gay and she isn't. Why they're grubbing together in the crummy slums of Mexico is explained only in the most officious of dialogue exposition: He had heroin problems with the law back in the States.
Bereft of viewpoint and punctuated with erratic skips in time, "The Beat" is not much more than a heap of humdrum repetitions. Who needs Benzedrine when you've got scene of two characters in car talking followed by a scene of two characters at a dining table talking, followed up by a scene of two characters walking and, of course, talking? Ultimately, all this meandering leads to a sensational climax.
There are amusements along the road, however. Sutherland's performance is captivating and amusing. With his off-handed mannerisms and low-key utterances, we're not sure if Sutherland's doing Burroughs justice, but he's certainly doing one heck of a Jack Nicholson. Love provides the only sparks in this downbeat drudge with her casually sultry performance as Burroughs' tarnished Golden Girl.
Aesthetically, "The Beat" looks like it has been pounded out on an old Underwood, such is its outdated look and listlessness. A cup of espresso, however, to composer Ernst Troost for the film's jaunty woodwind sounds, giving "The Beat" a much needed bounce.
THE BEAT
Millennium Pictures
A Pfilmco, Donald Zuckerman
and Pendragon Film Ltd. production
in association with Walking Pictures,
Martien Holding and Background Prods.
Producers:Donald Zuckerman, Andrew Pfeffer, Alain Silver
Screenwriter-director:Gary Walkow
Executive producers:Avi Lerner, Willi Bar, Danny Dimbort, Trevor Short
Director of photography:Ciro Cabello
Editor:Steve Vance, Gary Walkow, Peter B. Ellis
Production designer:Rando Schmook
Music:Ernest Troost
Color/stereo
William S. Burroughs:Kiefer Sutherland
Joan Vollmer:Courtney Love
Allen Ginsberg:Ron Livingston
Jack Kerouac:Daniel Martinez
Lucien Carr:Norman Reedus
Dave Kammerer:Kyle Secor
Lee:Sam Trammell
Running time -- 90 minutes
No MPAA rating...
Even someone who has never inhaled or imbibed might recognize the desultory highs that pass for brilliance among those getting "lit." In writer-director Gary Walkow's distillation of a "true story," we come upon writers Burroughs, Ginsberg and, for a nanosecond, Kerouac, in their formative years. We meet them in early 1944 as they gather around the apartment of one rather daring and nubile Columbia student, Joan (Love), who has a yen for "Ben" and uses her flashy charms to induce the local druggist to load her up with not only Benzedrine but some other happening prescription drugs.
Joan's enclave is not exactly a salon in the Paris literary sense; it's more reminiscent of the geek wing of a freshman dorm, save for the appearance of the older, more urbane Burroughs (Sutherland). Poseurs and poets, they prattle about large romantic quests -- in this particular instance about Kerouac's failed attempt to take a merchant vessel to Paris for the liberation of Europe. But mostly they get lit and grope about for romance; the steamiest is a young writer named Lucien's (Norman Reedus) dalliance with Dave (Kyle Secor), a gay man who has fallen for him. Things later get nasty when Lucien spurns Dave's advances and stabs him to death. This causes some discomfort among the group, and Lucien goes off to prison for a while.
We're not sure what anyone's moral -- or even artistic -- reaction is to this killing, but it doesn't matter since filmmaker Walkow transports us seven years hence into Mexico and the off-road adventures of Burroughs and Joan, who have now taken up. It's not your standard '50s pairing, since he's gay and she isn't. Why they're grubbing together in the crummy slums of Mexico is explained only in the most officious of dialogue exposition: He had heroin problems with the law back in the States.
Bereft of viewpoint and punctuated with erratic skips in time, "The Beat" is not much more than a heap of humdrum repetitions. Who needs Benzedrine when you've got scene of two characters in car talking followed by a scene of two characters at a dining table talking, followed up by a scene of two characters walking and, of course, talking? Ultimately, all this meandering leads to a sensational climax.
There are amusements along the road, however. Sutherland's performance is captivating and amusing. With his off-handed mannerisms and low-key utterances, we're not sure if Sutherland's doing Burroughs justice, but he's certainly doing one heck of a Jack Nicholson. Love provides the only sparks in this downbeat drudge with her casually sultry performance as Burroughs' tarnished Golden Girl.
Aesthetically, "The Beat" looks like it has been pounded out on an old Underwood, such is its outdated look and listlessness. A cup of espresso, however, to composer Ernst Troost for the film's jaunty woodwind sounds, giving "The Beat" a much needed bounce.
THE BEAT
Millennium Pictures
A Pfilmco, Donald Zuckerman
and Pendragon Film Ltd. production
in association with Walking Pictures,
Martien Holding and Background Prods.
Producers:Donald Zuckerman, Andrew Pfeffer, Alain Silver
Screenwriter-director:Gary Walkow
Executive producers:Avi Lerner, Willi Bar, Danny Dimbort, Trevor Short
Director of photography:Ciro Cabello
Editor:Steve Vance, Gary Walkow, Peter B. Ellis
Production designer:Rando Schmook
Music:Ernest Troost
Color/stereo
William S. Burroughs:Kiefer Sutherland
Joan Vollmer:Courtney Love
Allen Ginsberg:Ron Livingston
Jack Kerouac:Daniel Martinez
Lucien Carr:Norman Reedus
Dave Kammerer:Kyle Secor
Lee:Sam Trammell
Running time -- 90 minutes
No MPAA rating...
- 2/3/2000
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
Film review: 'Underground'
FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. -- Contemporary films don't get any darker than "Notes From Underground", a faithful but updated adaptation of the Dostoevski novella that will delight misanthropes everywhere. Although the film faces an extremely rough ride commercially, it is an intense and riveting experience that boasts a superlative performance by Henry Czerny. The picture was one of the highlights of the recent Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival.
The story revolves around the Underground Man (Czerny), who narrates via a series of videotaped confessions. He is confessing to the camera the most painful episode of his life, which took place 12 years earlier. The story is told as a series of flashbacks, beginning with his job as a low-level building inspector, where he takes great delight in the petty abuse of his power.
One day, he shows up at a friend's house, which is filled with college acquaintances who are clearly less-than-delighted to see him. Inviting himself to their dinner party to celebrate one of the clan's new job, he proceeds to thoroughly humiliate himself in his desperate quest for their friendship; when spurned, he reacts with hostility and indignation.
Despite their clear rejection, he follows the party to a local brothel and soon finds himself in a close encounter with a beautiful prostitute, Liza (Sheryl Lee).
He senses her discomfort with her occupation and, in an impulsively nice move that he instantly regrets, offers her a place to stay. When she suddenly shows up at his door one night, a relationship is formed, but he soon finds that he cannot help himself from his compulsively lacerating behavioral patterns.
His brutish treatment of her culminates in a sexual encounter that is shocking in its hostility and intensity.
What is surprising in this compelling and haunting tale of a self-described "spiteful man" is the generous amount of dark humor. Anyone who has ever had a negative thought, who has ever felt uncomfortable or inferior in a social situation, who has ever taken delight in some small degree of power or control over someone else, will find something to relate to in this insightful and witty black comedy. Gary Walkow's meticulous screenplay and precise direction never hits a false note and never pushes too hard. This is a truly elegant piece of work.
Lee, in a performance of striking emotional and physical honesty, is quite moving as the Underground Man's victim. But the film belongs to Czerny, a truly fearless actor who is absolutely mesmerizing here and who makes his character alternately sympathetic and hateful, funny and horrific. It is a fascinating performance that deserves wide exposure.
NOTES FROM UNDERGROUND
Walker/Gruber Prods.
Director-screenplay Gary Walkow
Producers Frank J. Gruber, Alicia A. Dollard,
Chris Beckman
Executive producer Gary Walkow
Director of photography Dan Gillham
Editor Peter B. Ellis
Color/stereo
Cast:
Underground Man Henry Czerny
Liza Sheryl Lee
Simon Eamonn Roche
Jerry Charlie Stratton
Tom Geoffrey Rivas
Zerkov Jon Favreau
Running time -- 88 minutes
No MPAA rating...
The story revolves around the Underground Man (Czerny), who narrates via a series of videotaped confessions. He is confessing to the camera the most painful episode of his life, which took place 12 years earlier. The story is told as a series of flashbacks, beginning with his job as a low-level building inspector, where he takes great delight in the petty abuse of his power.
One day, he shows up at a friend's house, which is filled with college acquaintances who are clearly less-than-delighted to see him. Inviting himself to their dinner party to celebrate one of the clan's new job, he proceeds to thoroughly humiliate himself in his desperate quest for their friendship; when spurned, he reacts with hostility and indignation.
Despite their clear rejection, he follows the party to a local brothel and soon finds himself in a close encounter with a beautiful prostitute, Liza (Sheryl Lee).
He senses her discomfort with her occupation and, in an impulsively nice move that he instantly regrets, offers her a place to stay. When she suddenly shows up at his door one night, a relationship is formed, but he soon finds that he cannot help himself from his compulsively lacerating behavioral patterns.
His brutish treatment of her culminates in a sexual encounter that is shocking in its hostility and intensity.
What is surprising in this compelling and haunting tale of a self-described "spiteful man" is the generous amount of dark humor. Anyone who has ever had a negative thought, who has ever felt uncomfortable or inferior in a social situation, who has ever taken delight in some small degree of power or control over someone else, will find something to relate to in this insightful and witty black comedy. Gary Walkow's meticulous screenplay and precise direction never hits a false note and never pushes too hard. This is a truly elegant piece of work.
Lee, in a performance of striking emotional and physical honesty, is quite moving as the Underground Man's victim. But the film belongs to Czerny, a truly fearless actor who is absolutely mesmerizing here and who makes his character alternately sympathetic and hateful, funny and horrific. It is a fascinating performance that deserves wide exposure.
NOTES FROM UNDERGROUND
Walker/Gruber Prods.
Director-screenplay Gary Walkow
Producers Frank J. Gruber, Alicia A. Dollard,
Chris Beckman
Executive producer Gary Walkow
Director of photography Dan Gillham
Editor Peter B. Ellis
Color/stereo
Cast:
Underground Man Henry Czerny
Liza Sheryl Lee
Simon Eamonn Roche
Jerry Charlie Stratton
Tom Geoffrey Rivas
Zerkov Jon Favreau
Running time -- 88 minutes
No MPAA rating...
- 11/25/1996
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
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