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A fine film that has yet to receive its due, The Merry Gentleman has now sparked a lawsuit.

I was just hipped to this story by Ruth Ratny in her online publication, REEL Chicago, which is the bible of Chicago production news; but check out this link to the actual court documents from the lawsuit (included in her article), which detail chapter and verse the plaintiff’s allegations against Michael Keaton.

According to the suit by Merry Gentleman, LLC; Keaton’s bad behavior during and (especially) after principal photography for the film The Merry Gentleman unnecessarily added millions to the budget and essentially doomed the picture to low box office revenues.

The suit alleges that as production for the film approached, slated director Ron Lazzeretti (who also wrote the screenplay) fell ill, and the company began looking for another person to direct the film. That was when Keaton offered to take on directing duties, and in 2007 two separate agreements, one for acting and one for directing, were drawn up between Keaton and the producers. This is when the shenanigans allegedly started on Keaton’s part:

First off, he refused to hire an editor to help him look at and evaluate the footage shot each day during production (aka “the Dailies”) and shirked the task himself, leaving an integral part of the director’s job undone.

After primary filming wrapped, despite the contractual understanding that he was responsible for producing a “first” cut, but not a “final” cut (the responsibility of the producers), Keaton still refused to hire an editor and went back home to California. The producers then used their own money to set up a professional editing suite in Santa Monica near Keaton’s home so he could participate in the editing process. Whereupon Keaton announced that he was leaving for a fly fishing trip to his estate in Montana.

The producers spent their own money again to build yet another professional editing suite in Montana and even hired an assistant, so Keaton could edit between trout outings. Yet he spent little or no time in the editing suite during the weeks in question, leaving important issues to be decided by subordinates.

When he returned to California his haphazard work habits continued, costing the production further delay and expense, and when he did finally produce a rough cut of the film, all parties (Keaton included) agreed that it sucked (technical legal term). After some negotiation between the producers and Keaton’s attorney, it was determined that Keaton would be given another try and the producers would also work on their own cut back in Chicago, whereupon Lazzeretti and company would decide which one was best. When Keaton found out there was another cut being worked on in Chicago he refused to have any further contact with anyone he had previously disagreed with- which happened to include basically everyone involved in the higher levels of production.

The two cuts were screened a few months later and it was determined by consensus that “the Chicago cut” (as it became known) was far superior to Keaton’s second attempt, which not only was still flawed but now had a score done by his son (who had no experience) that was intrusive and amateurish. The producers decided to go with the Chicago cut, which was totally within their rights under the contract.

The Chicago cut was submitted to the prestigious Sundance Festival and was accepted by them, which would have positioned the film to at least be an Art House hit if not a mainstream one. But when Keaton found out about this he and his people pitched a hissy fit (another legal term) to the Sundance authorities,  telling them that he would refuse to appear at Sundance if his cut wasn’t shown at the festival. The Sundance people, intimidated by his clout and star power, sided with Keaton. This forced the producers to cut a deal with Keaton allowing his cut to be shown, but just at Sundance, provided Keaton put in some work to clean up and fix some remaining flaws in his cut. Keaton allegedly also blew off these duties/obligations and in addition forced the producers to pay expensive licensing fees for some popular songs he insisted be included in his cut at Sundance (for which they got a one-time licensing fee). Despite everything the Keaton cut was well received at Sundance.

The suit goes on to allege that Keaton’s hijinks delayed the movie from being able to be released during Christmas season of 2008 (which would have been perfect as the film is set during the holidays- plus dark dramas always fare better during that time period), thus depriving the film of its optimal release time and causing the revenues to suffer because of it. They also detail Keaton’s bizarre and distracted behavior during promotional appearances for the film, which contributed to the poor box office showing (less than $350,000).

ALTHOUGH THEY ARE NOT PLAINTIFFS OR INVOLVED WITH THE SUIT IN ANY FASHION, two of the individuals identified in the complaint as people involved in the film whom Keaton later refused to deal with (Producers Steven A. Jones and Christina Varotsis) are actually featured in Hollywood On Lake Michigan, 2nd Edition.

I have been told that the suit was brought by an investor whose lack of film experience and own emotional excesses may have contributed to the situation.  So we shall see how this plays out.

The biggest irony in this whole ordeal is that the version of the film I saw in a theater in 2009 and later on DVD (apparently a mixture of Keaton’s second cut with several tweaks by Lazzeretti and a different score) is an excellent piece of work. A really fine dramatic film that deserves much more recognition that it has received. I will rent it again and whip up a review in the next week or so.

Keaton’s performance in it is brilliant and he seems to have a fine eye for directing. If only he could have done all his work on time and played nice with the other kids. Or at least hired an editor!

Not seen this man lately? Turns out there may be good reasons for that.

Made in 2002 by writer/director P.J. Hogan (Muriel’s Wedding, My Best Friend’s Wedding), shelved by its studio for several years, then released directly to the Starz Cable Network and then to DVD with virtually no mention, Unconditional Love is another of those gems which has fallen through the cracks of the capricious Hollywood distribution system. Kathy Bates (Misery, Fried Green Tomatoes, Fred Claus) stars as frumpy Chicago housewife, Grace Beasley, who idolizes a cheesy love crooner, Victor Fox, played with manic glee by Jonathan Pryce (Brazil, Pirates of the Caribbean). When her husband (played by Dan Ackroyd) leaves her the day before Victor is murdered in Chicago (on his way to a television appearance where Grace was to finally meet him); Grace is inspired to hop a flight to England to attend his funeral.

In a bizarre turn of events (few things in this film aren’t bizarre), she bonds with Victor’s grieving gay lover, Dirk Simpson, played by Rupert Everett (My Best Friend’s Wedding, voice of Prince Charming in the Shrek films). After arranging a comeuppance for Victor’s homophobic sisters (Lynn Redgrave, Stephanie Beacham, and Marcia Warren), Grace and Dirk return to Chicago to solve Victor’s murder and bring his killer to justice. This quest leads the pair, along with Grace’s daughter-in-law (Meredith Eaton, who almost steals the movie), on an odyssey through the bowels of downtown Chicago in pursuit of “The Crossbow Killer” (Did I mention that Victor was killed by a serial killer?). And if all that weren’t enough, Julie Andrews does a cameo that will forever change the way you look at her.

The film makes good use of Chicago as well, featuring the Billy Goat Tavern for an extended scene (more than I’ve ever seen), as well as long sequences in the dark and often foreboding underground areas that the Goat leads to. Many films have showcased lower Wacker Drive, but Wacker is actually just one of a whole array of streets in Chicago that have a “lower” version. Lower Randolph, Michigan, Columbus and numerous other streets, byways and subterranean loading docks combine with pedways and tunnels to create a vast labyrinthine “Underground Chicago.” And since the underground is where the Crossbow Killer lurks, Unconditional Love lingers there for a long time with hilarious results. The lower portion of the Michigan Avenue bridge even comes into play during the film’s climactic scene.

Now I could definitely see how this movie could not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it tickled me to no end. If you’re yearning for a comedy that feels completely different and has a sense of humor that is by turns twisted, silly, painfully clever, and delightfully campy (Jonathon Pryce as the Liberace-esque/Iglesiasish/Humperdinkian love crooner is worth the price of admission in itself), Unconditional Love will definitely float your boat.

The Company is an interesting film that was poorly received when it was released in 2003, mostly because it didn’t conform to certain expectations that film goers had about it. It was marketed as “a Robert Altman film,” and while Altman was the director, he was basically a hired gun and not as intimately involved in the entire process as he was with his other films. Therefore, audiences went to it expecting to see a Robert Altman film when The Company was, for all intents and purposes, actually a Neve Campbell film. Allow me to explain.

When Neve Campbell was nine years old, she entered residence at Canada’s prestigious National School of Ballet, training full time and performing in numerous productions. Dance was her first love and the focal point of her life until her late teens, when she transitioned into acting.

Throughout the first several years of her acting career (first gaining fame in the television series Party Of Five and continuing through the Scream franchise and other films) she dreamed of mounting a project that would be her homage to the world of the dance. A film that would illustrate both the artistry and intense athleticism involved in the form, and the complete emotional, physical, and spiritual commitment required by it.

After an abortive attempt to produce this project through a major studio, she found a home for it with an independent production company. She and collaborator Barbara Turner spent four years visiting Chicago and interviewing members of the city’s renowned Joffrey Ballet Company in order to glean enough narrative material for Turner to fashion a script. Campbell also took classes with the Joffrey during that period (between her acting gigs).

Once the project became a go, Campbell then began the laborious process of returning to world class dancing form after an absence of almost ten years. She trained over eight hours a day for four months on her own, then spent another month and a half training eight plus hours a day with the Joffrey itself to learn the dances required. To further complicate this already near impossible feat (imagine an NBA player trying to return after a nine year hiatus), she broke a rib just four days before she began the Joffrey training period and was in constant pain throughout the rest of the preparation for and shooting of the film.

Because the film had multiple characters and involved large amounts of naturalistic improvisation (it would have been impossible to get a troupe of dancers who weren’t actors to sufficiently master large amounts of dialogue), Campbell knew the film would be “Altmanesque” in many respects and would require a director with a similar toolkit to Altman’s. But much to her amazement, Turner (who was an old friend of his) and Campbell were able to get The Master himself to consent to direct the film.

This turned out to be a blessing and a curse for the project, because while they were blessed with Altman’s considerable genius, they were cursed with an audience who expected the biting satire and brilliant ensemble acting of Mash or Nashville or Short Cuts. And although The Company is many things, it is certainly not a biting satire or expose of the world of dance, and while it features several fine actors (including Malcolm McDowell and Neve herself) it isn’t the full on thespian onslaught that is Short Cuts, The Player, or any of your prototypical Altman films.

The plot of The Company is very simple, it highlights a year in the Joffrey Ballet Company, focusing on Campbell’s character, an ensemble dancer who has a chance to take on a featured role. The film follows the trials and tribulations of the dancers, with an emphasis on the challenges of being both a committed artist and world class athlete. Most of the cast is comprised of the “real” dancers of the Joffrey, and the movie contains several of the company’s actual dances in their entirety.

Many people who saw this film when it was released (myself included) were put off by the fact that it doesn’t contain much in terms of dramatic arc or character development (again expecting an Altman experience), but this is also true to the realities of being a dancer in a top tier ensemble. When you spend 8 1/2 hours a day in a grueling training regimen (one you’ve adhered to since your were nine or ten years old), there really isn’t a lot of time left over for anything else. To inject artificial drama or action into the film would have betrayed the truth of the material and rung very false.

It is also unfair to compare The Company to other Altman films in terms of acting because he was mostly working with a group of dancers, instead of several dozen of the best actors in the business. Even Neve Campbell isn’t really the star of the film, the Joffrey Ballet (really the Art Form Of The Dance) is the star of this picture. It was only after seeing this film on DVD years after its theatrical release (and reading more about the project) that I was able to appreciate these distinctions.

So if you enjoy the dance, particularly the Joffrey’s wonderful brand of it; The Company could be a very entertaining and satisfying rental for you. Just don’t go into it thinking “Robert Altman Film.”

You can learn much more about the making of The Company here and here.

And after you’ve watched the movie itself, check out the bonus feature on the DVD entitled “Play All Dance Sequences From The Film” and be blown away by the artistry of the Joffrey Ballet.

Of all the Chicagoland shot films that I was hoping to see before handing in the manuscript for Hollywood On Lake Michigan, 2nd Edition, Were The World Mine was probably the one that I was most sad to have missed out on. I had heard great things about this empowering gay musical made on a shoestring budget, and how the film’s makers were desperately trying to get it a mainstream theatrical release.

Unfortunately, that mainstream release never materialized, and I was forced to wait until it was recently released on DVD. While the film was definitely worth the wait, viewing it made it painfully clear what a travesty of cinematic justice it was that this delightful little picture never received the exposure it deserved. Hopefully, the DVD release will bring it some wider recognition.

Were The World Mine is an enjoyable film on several levels; an exuberant and charming musical, a touching and tender coming of age story, a meditation on the nature of love and acceptance, and a wacky, surreal and sometimes campy comedy.

The project grew from a short musical screenplay, written in 2003 by Tom Gustafson, about a young gay teen who finds solace and strength in the words of Shakespeare (the piece was inspired by his experiences growing up gay in a small Illinois town). Gustafson’s partner, Cory James Krueckeberg, was impressed by the script and they both embarked on an attempt to actualize the work.

Gustafson, a graduate of Northwestern University, used contacts developed from working as a casting assistant on Road To Perdition and Master And Commander: The Far Side of The World to marshal resources and assemble a devoted team of collaborators and crew members. Krueckeberg, an accomplished actor, designer, and director; also drew upon his tenure in the Chicago theater community to assist the cause.

The result was Fairies, a short musical film. Fairies received a rave response at a screening in a Boystown venue, and they were quickly able to raise money for festival submissions. The film ended up appearing at over 75 festivals around the world. A year later, during a flight from LA to New York, they decided to expand Fairies into a full length feature. By the time the plane landed, Gustafson and Krueckeberg had already sketched out the framework for the picture.

After the pair completed the script (working in conjunction with talented Chicago composer Jessica Fogle on the songs), Gustafson and Krueckeberg then methodically set out to acquire financing for the feature film. Their efforts were a primer on the right way to fund and create a low budget independent movie; using staged readings of the script to garner interest in the project from potential investors, presenting a well constructed business plan to those investors, and doing research to locate all other possible funding sources. Meanwhile, they were also working hard on a production schedule so as to be able to hit the ground running when the financing came through, and searching the country for the talent to perform the various roles in the film.

Although many big name actors who expressed interest early on disappeared once the extent of the film’s gay content became apparent to them, casting people Carrie Barden, Mickie Paskal and Jennifer S. Rudnicke were able to assemble an amazing group of performers, the proverbial mix of seasoned veterans and talented newcomers.

Big name actors (and/or their agents) weren’t the only ones afflicted by uneasiness over the film’s gay content, investors were shying away as well, and for a while it looked as if financing would not materialize. But Gustafson, Krueckeberg and producer Peter Sterling were able to secure the final funds required. Pre-production reached a fever pitch in preparation for the shooting of the film, which was done in the Chicago area and took an amazingly short 4 weeks (it almost seems impossible when you watch the movie).

Were The World Mine is the story of Timothy, a shy and creative gay teen who often retreats into his musical daydreams in order to endure life in a private boys school and a stultifying small town. When he is cast as Puck in a school production of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, he becomes more aware of his talents and starts to blossom under the tutelage of his arty English teacher.

This process reaches full flower (pun mandatory) when he discovers a love potion recipe for Puck’s purple pansy secretly encoded in Shakespeare’s text (the pansy causes those sprayed by it to fall for the first person they see). Timothy creates the potion, then uses this magical flower to turn his whole town gay, most notably the hunky rugby player for whom he has been pining.

Tanner Cohen, who plays Timothy, was really quite a find for the production; possessing strong acting skills and an incredible voice (not to mention an uncanny resemblance to Nick Stahl). Cohen deftly captures the nervous insecurity of Timothy, but also really brings it in the musical numbers.

Nathaniel David Becker, who makes his film debut as Jonathan (the rugby playing love interest), has an excellent voice, handsome looks and solid acting chops. He should be able to write his own ticket in the musical film/theater world; in fact he already seems to be a bit of a gay heartthrob.

The supporting cast is unbelievably strong: the devilishly quirky Wendy Robie (Nadine from Twin Peaks) plays the English/Theater instructor (in a role she reprised from Fairies), revered Broadway stage performer Judy McLane shines in her first film work as Timothy’s mother, Daytime Television fixture Jill Larson (Opal on All My Children) is an absolute hoot as McLane’s eccentric employer, veteran Chicago character actors Christian Stolte and David Darlow do their usual brilliant jobs, and newcomers Zelda Williams and Ricky Goldman are adorable as Timothy’s best friends and confidantes.

In addition to the fine acting performances, the musical numbers really knocked my socks off (and I’m not generally a fan of contemporary musicals). Cory Krueckeberg seamlessly melded Shakespeare’s words with his own clever lyrics, Jessica Fogle’s melodies were excellent (catchy without being cloying or fluffy), and Tim Sandusky’s work on the score, arrangements and production was absolutely first rate (of course, he has a reputation for that in Chicago). Todd Underwood’s choreography was joyously kinetic but not too busy or cliched, Elizabeth Powell Wislar’s costumes were fab, and Director of Photography Kira Kelly was able to achieve a beautiful look with limited resources.

Hell, there wasn’t much about this film that I didn’t like. I know this big of a rave about a picture of this sort from a big butch breeder like me might seem incongruous, but hey, sue me. I call ‘em like I see ‘em.

Gustafson and cohorts worked hard for a wider mainstream release for the film and it’s a shame that they weren’t successful, because Were The World Mine is truly “The Gay Teen Musical For The Whole Family.” Seriously. Although there’s a certain intensity in the romantic moments that generates a bit more heat than the hook up scenes in your average WB-style teen dramedy (which comes more from having better actors being directed well); WTWM is much less salacious than the teen centered offerings on any network. The most graphic action in any of the love scenes is a chaste kiss and warm caress, which is positively Disney-esque compared to the bump and grind explicitness in standard teen fare (actually, WTWM has been likened by many to Disney’s High School High). And I think we can all agree that young dudes with their shirts off isn’t exactly pornographic (those who don’t agree probably wouldn’t have read this far anyway).

Of course it’s two guys doing the kissing, so the knee jerk reaction from mainstream execs (particularly gay mainstream execs) when confronted by a film that forthrightly portrays romantic affection between two males is to pronounce it “too gay.” Those two words are the bane of the existences of all gay filmmakers/artists/musicians/etc. seeking to expose their work to a wider audience.

The fact that this cowardly mantra is so often recited by corporate cultural gatekeepers who are themselves gay is especially puzzling. Particularly about something as heartfelt and wholesome as Were The World Mine. In a interview included in the WTWM press kit, Gustafson wonders:

Maybe it’s really that purity and innocence that scares people into saying the film is too gay? I think to some people, this innocence is even more dangerous than films that portray gay characters in very crude and sexual ways. Historically, ‘gay’ has been more prominent, and as a result more accepted in a way, as a dirty little secret involving bathroom stalls or sex clubs than when it involves real love, religion and the long term commitment of a marriage like institution. Regardless, it’s a strange irony to say that an incredibly innocent film is too gay. In some way I think it comes from a shameful place, and I think some of the non-straight people in the industry react this way to things as a defense mechanism. The same way our main character escapes an unsavory reality with daydreams, these people escape reality by saying it’s ‘too gay’ instead of putting support behind it and risking ridicule.

Whatever the true motivations of those who denied this film its due, the fact remains that it was a poor decision. With both filmed and live musicals pulling in the public in droves in recent years, Were The World Mine could have really made a splash had it been given a chance.

Hopefully, the recent DVD release will at least help get this picture seen by some of the legions of people, gay and straight, who would enjoy it.

Which is the really crux of the matter at hand, not to mention one of the most frustrating things about the capricious and arbitrary way that films are distributed by Hollywood, the fact that so many great pictures never get brought to the attention of the people who would most enjoy them.

Aside from the sheer injustice of it, it’s just bad business.

Tanner Cohen and Nathanial David Becker bring the sexy in Were The World Mine.

Uncle Nino is not only an example of the rare species, “the family movie that doesn’t suck”; it is a member of that rarest subset, “the family movie that is poignant and entertaining for all the various age groups of the family.” It is (unfortunately) also an example of that not-so-rare phenomenon, “the great little independent film that is crapped upon by the cold uncaring film distribution system.”

A labor of love of writer/director Robert Shallcross, Uncle Nino was actually shot in 2003 and wandered in the wilderness of studio indifference for several years unable to find a distributor. This despite a great reception at film festivals and a huge grassroots cult following (it sold out a theater in Grand Rapids, Michigan for an entire year). After much work by those associated with the film, it received a halfhearted limited release in 2004/2005 (again garnering a rave response). More corporate lethargy ensued before the film was finally released on DVD in June of 2009. Hopefully now Uncle Nino will finally get its due from a wider audience.

Joe Mantegna plays Robert Micelli, an overworked ad exec who has lost touch with his wife and children. In fact, the entire family has lost touch with each other, each living in their own world, unable to communicate except via arguments and screamed conversations from separate rooms. Basically the average suburban American family in the current age.

That autistic pattern is broken when Mantegna’s elderly Uncle Nino (deftly portrayed by Pierrino Mascarino) unexpectedly arrives from Italy. At this point, you’re probably saying to yourself, “Gosh, I bet Uncle Nino’s Old World charm and simple ways cause everyone to reevaluate their lives and the choices they have made; resulting in them all rediscovering the value of family and of a less complicated, not as goal directed life.”

And you’d be right, cynical smart ass; but it’s about the journey, not the destination. And Uncle Nino gets there with style and an easy grace. Whenever the movie threatens to dip into total bathos or hokieness, the actors and director manage to avoid veering off the Cliffs of Schmaltz. It sometimes feels a bit like an After School Special, but a really really good one. Besides, it’s a family movie, not a Tarantino flick; so back off.

Joe Mantegna’s real daughter, Gina (who was 12 at the time), plays his daughter in the movie and does a fabulous job. The two were able to translate both the bond and the angst from their actual relationship, and it gives their scenes a veracity beyond the standard Father/Daughter family film dynamic. Anne Archer, who had worked with Mantegna several times before, has the role as his wife, and their familiarity and comfort with each other adds to the genuine feel of the film.

Making Uncle Nino was truly a family affair for Mantegna; not only did he get to work with his daughter for a summer back in his hometown of Chicago (the Northwest ‘burbs, actually), but he took his whole family with him for an extended reunion with all of his relatives, who were scattered in the towns around where the film was shot (Joe and family ended up just crashing with them during down time). In fact, most of the extras in a large crowd scene toward the end of the film are members of the Mantegna clan.

So, to sum up: if you’re having a jones for a sexy high-octane shoot-em-up or a bracing look at the seamy underbelly of suburban America; give Uncle Nino a pass. But if you’re looking for something to pop in the DVD player at a holiday gathering that will keep the little ones and the old folks entertained, yet won’t bore the tweens and young adults (and you) to death; and even might elicit a few tears and hugs all around— Uncle Nino is a fantastic choice.