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Frontrunners (2008)
7/10
It's Just Politics As Usual...
16 October 2008
If you're not from the tri-state area, chances are you've never heard of Stuyvesant High School. Though it is the top math and science school in New York City, with an average SAT score in the 1400s, the school that receives twenty-five thousand applicants a year but only accepts the top 750 runs more like a university than a public secondary school. Stuyvesant, therefore, is by no means a "typical" American high school, so just what, then, made this the quintessential place for Director Caroline Suh to study a "typical" high school election?

"The minute I said I wanted to do a film about the lives of high school candidates, a friend said I had to check out Stuyvesant," Suh explains. Perhaps simply for the fact that it is so unlike any other place: it is a surreal, seemingly fictional world all on its own that tries to run like a microcosm of the real world, just in a place where everything is really trivial in the end.

Frontrunners is not about Stuyvesant, though; it is about the students at Stuyvesant-- a very select few who, although each are unique, do not seem interesting enough to warrant their own documentary. When thrown together, though, their different personalities compliment each other in an odd way and serve to show their school as a bit more well-rounded than is assumed when someone hears the words "math and science technical school." Suh does not turn a blind eye to the biggest part of high school, though-- the popularity of the students-- but she allows her subjects to be the ones to point out the fact that the "cheerleaders would vote for Hannah, and the quieter Asians would vote for George, and the Russian kids would probably vote for Mike."

Suh focuses on who these candidates are and how they campaign, from the reflective George who integrates science terminology into everyday speech in a way that you know would get him stuffed in a locker at just about any other place in the country, let alone the rough and tough city that is New York, to the eager and outgoing actress Hannah, who aside from her political aspirations has also appeared opposite Ellen Barkin in a feature film and guest starred on Law & Order. Suh's camera is a fly on the wall inside these hallowed halls, watching as these kids agonize over such seeming adult decisions during the primaries. Some may have to re-prioritize their extracurriculars, but all have to put themselves out to be judged in the "public eye" in a place and time when most just try to fit in. If nothing else, the sheer amount of pressure and stress these kids put upon themselves is courageous but also simply stunning to watch. Perhaps the one slight injustice is that Suh does not mention the elephant in the room: though racial politics certainly come into play here, not one of the candidates for Student Union President represents the majority of the school as an Asian American student. Suh may not have been given such a candidate, but she doesn't interview and explore why not either.

Suh met surprisingly little resistance from the Stuyvesant community, and she knows she is blessed for it. Should one candidate (or candidate's parent, since they were all under the age of eighteen at the time of filming) refused to be on camera, her production would have been virtually shut down; she had to be free to roam wherever her subjects roamed and experience whatever they did. Perhaps as a thank you for the hospitality, then, Suh does not exploit the missteps of the young politicians; she shows where they make mistakes or slip up, sure, but she does not linger the way for which a reality show camera has trained us to look out. Never biased, she never leads her audience toward supporting one candidate or another, and even when one in particular takes some mean-spirited advice from a bitter gym-teacher-turned-dean about how he should rip apart his opponent in the debate, Suh skates over the scene, as if trying to soften the blow and dilute the implications to protect the scrutiny of her young subject. In a way, Suh's documentary is much more mothering than one might expect for the harsh, cold world high school has become (or at least fictionally depicted) of late.

There are no twists to Frontrunners; there is no high drama involving a personal scandal or fledging grades affecting the outcome of a campaign. In fact, we rarely see these kids outside of their safe zone of Stuyvesant High School, and perhaps because of that, they don't really drop their guard, and we don't get to know them much as people beyond what's on their resume. Frontrunners can be seen, then, as almost a video diary for their college application-- all squeaky clean, professional, and trying to change the world-- but that can't be genuine all of the time, can it? So in that regard, Frontrunners is mundane, but nothing in it was faked for dramatic effect, either, so it's hard to compare it to anything in the past and call it dull. Stuyvesant is like no other high school, but it's student election is surprisingly similar to those held in every high school in every city or town across the country. There are no surprises here, no matter how much your post-millennium film viewing has trained you to expect otherwise. The only real thing left to wonder about after viewing Frontrunners is whether or not the cut-and-dry way it plays out will mirror itself in the real November 4th election. At any other time, this film would probably screen only in private, to lightly sprinkled crowds made up of only Stuy alumni, but the timing couldn't be better, or the subject matter be more relevant, so Frontrunners will be granted a run of its own in select theaters on October 24th.
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9/10
Dying To Make A Statement
10 May 2008
Warning: Spoilers
The Lone Star State has become known for a few things: cowboys, oil, football, and death. The state of Texas leads the country in the number of executions performed on a yearly basis since George W. Bush set the record with one hundred and fifty-two more in his six year term as Governor than any other in recent history. That is also the same state that finds it bemusing to have a roadhouse diner that advertises the "killer burger" on its menu right across the street from one such "death house." Granted there is much debate over the death penalty nowadays: some believe in the "an eye for an eye" theory while others feel one cannot use "two wrongs to make a right," but IFC's new documentary, At The Death House Door, works to answer both theories by offering a deeply personal look at a controversial, and more importantly, universal, subject.

While neither director— Peter Gilbert nor Steve James-- nor their co-producers at the Chicago Tribune, publicly admit they wanted their film to take a firm stance one way or another on the death penalty (but instead to merely open up the discussion further), At Death House Door's main subject, retired Reverend Carroll Pickett, clearly states his case time and again within the documentary in such an emotional way it would be nearly impossible for the audience not to emphasize with him. In that way, the filmmakers let Pickett do their dirty work for them; they sit back and allow his sober voice to lead the revolution, echoing how unlawful and cruel murder in the name of "justice" can be.

At The Death House Door is one-part profile on Pickett himself and one part profile on Carlos De Luna, an inmate De Luna "counseled," and who repeatedly professed his innocence to the robbery and murder of which he was accused and for which he was ultimately given a lethal injection. Almost two decades after he was put to death, investigators have almost certainly corroborated said innocence. The documentary uses this one rare case as an example for why the death penalty does not work. There are occasional blanket generalizations made by interviewees about how the death penalty doesn't deter further crimes, but such commentary is flippant and unfortunately not backed up with statistics or specifics. Therefore, if At The Death House Door is viewed with the attitude and assumption that it is a profile piece, it is a much stronger film than if the audience goes into it expecting a documentary on the successfulness or even the morality of the death penalty.

Pickett worked as a death row minister for thirteen years and oversaw ninety-five executions during his run. After each, he made an audio cassette of his thoughts and feelings while sitting with the inmate strapped to the table, watching the needle hit the vein, and hearing the men (and women)'s final words. Hearing some snippets in this documentary is eerie; the poeticism in his audio diary couldn't have been scripted better, and it is almost like he knew his legacy in life would be the stories on those tapes. To a cynical viewer, they come across almost as forced and at times, overly theatrical.

What is perhaps most interesting about At The Death House Door, though, are the questions with which Gilbert and James leave the audience after the credits roll, namely how a self-proclaimed "man of God" feels about aiding in taking these lives prematurely. Does he think that it will all work out in the end because they are going to a better place? When he recalls the memory of one particular inmate whose injection gets so badly botched that it takes the man eleven minutes to die, all the while suffering from excruciating, radiating pain, he grimaces as if he will become physically ill. Yet for over a decade, he stood by and allowed these executions to take place. The film shows Pickett briefly speaking to a group of like-minded Christian conservatives, ultimately speaking out against the death penalty and trying to get them to see why events like the aforementioned are neither Christian nor American. Where was that tenacity during those years he stood quietly on the sidelines in a murder room, praying for both the victims and their families but also for the prisoners about to join those victims wherever you believe they may be after their lives have ended? It's an extremely interesting case study, worthy of a follow up article from the Tribune.

Though at time their footage seems a bit dated-- in part due to technical style, and in part due to crediting George W. Bush only as "Governor"—Gilbert and James tow an interesting line between informative and artistic in At The Death House Door, choosing to incorporate not only interviews with De Luna's very emotionally involved sister but also footage of her watching coverage of his case on what sounds like an old episode of Geraldo (the clip is not chyroned). They have no qualms about tugging on their audiences' heartstrings, and their incorporation of a haunting and sentimental score by Leo Sidran only further proves that point. Neither director is a novice when it comes to such material, and the story they weave with At The Death House Door might be their most profound and therefore successful one to date.
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Meet Market (2004)
9/10
It's The Cast That Sells This Crude Romantic Comedy...
13 February 2008
Warning: Spoilers
Meet Market Seedsman Group, 2008 Directed By Charlie Loventhal

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Charlie Loventhal's Meet Market jumps right into the action in his no-frills comedy about a group of L.A. singles who troll the supermarket on Saturday nights to hook up. Breaking the fourth wall, his characters introduce themselves as they stand in their pre-chosen aisles, surrounded by the items that make them feel the most comfortable, allowing their eyes to stray in brief moments from the camera lens to patrol those passing by, setting the tone that as much as they may talk about wanting to find love, they have wandering attention spans. Meet Market is a story about awakenings for its many, many characters, who all want basic things out of life but go about searching for them in the wrong places.

To an outsider, it seems nearly impossible that in a metropolis as large as Los Angeles, every other person could work in the entertainment industry, but spend a day here, and you'll see that this town truly does run on the blood, sweat, and tears of filmmakers. Meet Market uses that city-specific quirk to its advantage, creating laugh out-loud jabs at the ridiculousness that often comes out of such people's mouths, most notably that of Hutch (Julian McMahon, who also Executive Produced). He is the stereotypical self-absorbed actor—a soap opera star, no less-- who loves to hear himself talk, a trait which McMahon pulls of with such ease it is like he has had years of experience to pull from and dozens of cast members to mimic. He thinks everything that pours out of his mouth is purely philosophical, even when his pearls of wisdom include: "An actor is only as good as his teeth." Somehow McMahon's half-swarmy, half-charming Hutch ( (perhaps because he never wears a shirt) still manages to rope in two intelligent women of substance, creating the very soap opera staple of a love triangle.

Aisha Tyler is one of those women as Jane, the self-proclaimed "kooky" character who dresses like a librarian (complete with the pointy glasses), uses words like "poopy," and sprays air freshener in sporadic bursts while she still sits on the toilet. Her knack for comedy is at its best here, playing something of a "stars in their eyes" simpleton to her best friend Lucinda (Krista Allen)'s more sardonic, jaded realism (even when thrown into absurd situations). In another actress' less capable hands, Lucinda's blunt nature ("I tell it like it is," as she puts it with an unapologetic shrug) could come off as overly aggressive and offensive, but Allen's natural down-to-Earth demeanor lends itself well to a character who is as free in spirit as she is with the F word. There is some question as to how these two opposites became friends in the first place, but as the film goes on, they learn about themselves, each other, and their friendship as much as we learn about them, and they rub off on each other in obvious ways.

Meet Market is the type of cheeky, slightly crude romantic comedy that countless young filmmakers attempt to make in just as many variations, but what makes Meet Market unique and ultimately successful is it's amazing-- and large-- cast of "That Guy" actors: you will surely recognize their faces from tons of Television Guest Star roles, even if you don't know their names. Without such talent in place, the majority of the subtler, drier humor would undoubtedly be lost and the shock value stuff would be over the top. The extremely underrated Alan Tudyk once again shines as Danny, the screenwriter who uses his art to try to get laid, going on a string of dates that start out with potential but quickly spiral downhill. Missi Pyle is one such woman, as a chuckle worthy hash-sniffing sexual predator who resorts to taunting him when he doesn't want to sleep with her… as is Jennifer Sky, the weight-obsessed woman he picks up at said supermarket. He spends the majority of the film digging advice out of his trainer (Laurie Holden) but can't quite grasp the deep intimacy that has been right there in front of him this whole time. Elizabeth Berkley redeems herself quite nicely from Showgirls purgatory as Linda, the doe-eyed small-town hopeful who believes every "You've got what it takes" she hears from men who just want to get her on the casting couch… until one such meeting takes a wrong turn, and she finds salvation in a new power. Susan Egan is Tess (and Christine Estabrook is her mom)—an existential drone who embarks on an impetuous relationship that for the first time makes her really feel alive, only to realize she still needs more.

Though Meet Market features some physical comedy and fun with adult-themed props, Loventhal is never hokey. His characters are in-your-face in the way strong individuals need to be, but his seasoned cast, as no strangers to independent film, actually manages to keep them grounded. Thankfully Loventhal trusts his actors enough to rely on them to carry the story, instead of using crazy camera movement or odd staging to draw interest. He lingers on his actors' images—ones that are so saturated, they may as well be oil paintings—and allows their expressive faces to say it all. Meet Market is one straight-to-DVD release that deserves to be plucked quickly from its shelves.
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Snow Angels (I) (2007)
A Beautifully Crafted Tale of Adolescence At Any Age
11 February 2008
Warning: Spoilers
Writer/Director hybrid David Gordon Green returns to his pattern of beautifully entwining the lives of small town characters in his new drama, Snow Angels, which depicts the act of floating through life at its simplest and purest: all of these characters, despite their numerical ages, walk the dangerous tightrope between child and adulthood, leaning from one side to the other with every step.

Based on Stewart O'Nan's novel by the same name, Snow Angels is set in a confining New England town, where it seems that young love can only be found when an older love completely fizzles out. Glenn and Annie (Sam Rockwell and Kate Beckinsale, respectively) are that latter couple; as separated parents, they struggle with the maturity required to share custody of their young daughter while simultaneously resorting to the childish behavior of relying on their parents for help. While Glenn seems to be the one who has given up on any light life may have to offer, it is Annie who comes across as the most immature character at first glance. She is the young mother who is still putting her own juvenile needs first. She works a dead-end restaurant job (something usually reserved for teenagers) and engages in an affair with a co-worker's husband (Nicky Katt). Perhaps that is why she reconnects so easily with her former babysitting charge, Arthur (Michael Angarano). What redeems, though, Annie is the well-meaning but overwhelmed way in which Beckinsale portrays her: she paints on a bright smile to try to seem like everything is okay and together, but her eyes are tired behind it, allowing the audience a glimpse of just how beaten-down she really feels. Even in the moments when she snaps at her daughter, she comes across a lot softer than would be expected in such a situation.

Arthur is very much an old soul trapped in a teenage boy's body; though he is just a high school student, he is swiftly being introduced to all of love's grandeurs and pitfalls when he simultaneously falls for new student Lila (Olivia Thirlby) while facing the implosion of his own parents' marriage and monetary security. Angarano's big wide eyes are not those of wonder or awe in Snow Angels; they, too, seem prematurely exhausted with the weight of everything going on around him. It is no surprise then that he clings to the one person who used to take care of him when he was a child: Annie. It is their friendship that is the deepest bond in the film because it is a pure, agenda-less, emotional connection.

Green expertly weaves tales of the daily grind, from the mundane acts of Arthur's marching band practice, to Glenn's defeat when he momentarily lets his faith slip and reaches for the liquor bottle yet again, to the short-lived triumphs, like a stolen moment laughing between two friends. It is when Glenn and Annie's daughter goes missing that these men-children realize all of the pain in which they have been wallowing is petty, adolescent dwelling, and they have never before truly known horror but just tedium.

Snow Angels is never sappy nor melodramatic, as Green chooses subtlety and quiet desperation over loud explosions from his characters. Glenn is the one character that rides that line, sometimes sobbing to himself and something banging his head against a truck. Rockwell is an incomparable talent in the current film business, but he pulls out all of the punches here, going above and beyond to make his character the scared, confused little boy trapped in a grown man's body that is so common for those to whom life has just seemed to happen. It is only when Glenn is considered a suspect in his daughter's disappearance that he awakens from the stupor that has become his life. In the moments that follow, both he and Annie grow up in a profound way, being forced to reevaluate their situation and try to pick up the pieces of their lives.

Some may go into Snow Angels expecting a suspense thriller and therefore find the methodic pacing a bit slow. Upon walking out of the theater, though, it is impossible not to notice that you don't feel drained because you spent the last hour and forty-five minutes bored but rather because you went on an emotional journey that made you smile warmly one minute and tear up the next. Green and Snow Angels makes you feel, and that is the greatest gift a film today can give). More than a year after the film first debuted at Sundance to critical acclaim, Snow Angels is finally getting a wide release, and it couldn't have come at a better time. After the barrage of uninspired, formulaic rom-coms and CGI monster flicks of late, we could all benefit from some real, raw feeling.
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6/10
See the documentaries instead
30 July 2006
Warning: Spoilers
Note: If you did not watch the news around the time of 9/11 you might not know how this movie turns out. Therefore, this review contains spoilers for you. "World Trade Center" is a movie I went into not expecting to like but wanting to see anyway (just not willing to pay for it), and once again my instincts did not fail me.

Now before you tune me out and call me insensitive, let me preface this rant: most of the filmmaker's nitpicky reasons I did not like the film will be the same ones that make others love it. For one, it is a typical Oliver Stone movie, which basically means he gets the performances and works with great actors, but he lingers on shots too long and treats the audience like they are not paying attention, therefore drilling every last little bit home.

"World Trade Center" can best be described as a docu-drama. Unlike "Titanic," or even "Pearl Harbor" (which I acknowledge is a bad example because it is a bad film), the relationship between John and Will cannot stand alone: if you took away the historical tragedy that serves as the backdrop, you would not have a story. There is no exposition to John and Will before September 11 (and I actually think the movie should be called "September 11" because of that): you meet them separately on the morning of the events. You never see them before: two men of different generations and ranks performing the same job, working in the same precinct, but not really knowing each other. Instead, you are thrust into hell with them.

I don't know what was actually said under the rubble, nor do I think either John or Will can recall exactly, as lack of oxygen and mind-numbing, bone-crushing pain must have made them pretty delirious, but I do not believe it was as written in "World Trade Center." If you watched the news after September 11, you knew the story of John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno: therefore, the ending of "World Trade Center" is no surprise. You go into the movie knowing exactly how it will turn out, and what keeps you in the seats are the performances. However, Oliver Stone still felt the need to create drama and suspense: will they die? Will one live? Which one? It felt fake and forced, which is the worst way to bastardize such an emotional story.

When Dave Karnes, the rogue ex-Marine who ultimately found Will alive, streams past the police officers and firefighters packing up for the night at Ground Zero, he actually looks around and says: Its like God created a sheet to shield us from what we shouldn't see. There's Hollywood writing, if I ever heard it. Fake and forced clichés. Like I said: unrealistic dialogue.

"World Trade Center" is rated PG. The studio wants kids to see it; they want them to remember and to understand just what could have been lost that day. No one curses in the movie: even when they should have, even when they did in reality, they don't in the film. But just like in "JFK," Oliver Stone utilizes real news footage to tie the narrative together, and one of those clips is of an extreme close up on the burning hole in Tower One, as someone jumps to their death. Children need to remember; we all do, but that was uncalled for, especially considering the whole first act leading up to that point was from John and Will's perspective. As members of the Port Authority PD, they were uptown when the first plane hit: neither of them saw it. As they bussed down to the site, no one knew what was going on. There were conflicting reports, and it wasn't even confirmed that the second plane hit. So thankfully the audience was spared certain visuals. But not everything.

The most interesting element to the film was one line within the first ten minutes-- one that was fleeting and unremarkable and even unnoticed by most: "Look out for this girl, she's eleven years old and a runaway out of Rhode Island expected to be on a bus to Grand Central this morning." The police chief holds up a picture at the morning's briefing, before everything goes awry. In the midst of the chaos, I wondered about her: did she actually come into NYC that day? Did her bus get in Grand Central or did she take a train to the World Trade Center? Was she found? Did she live? Is she home safely with her family now? Thats a new story amiss something I lived and then saw time and time again. And I want to know more about THAT. But it was dropped because they weren't out to create a fictional storyline, and they don't know what really happened there.

I think overall I was disappointed because it was not extraordinary. I wanted to see the sets recreated: I wanted to see how real they looked, and unfortunately so much was done with green screen, that fell short for me. In this case, the truth was the best narrative this story could possibly have: the real footage of people emerging from the burning buildings is ten times more powerful than anything staged could ever be. The personal memories and images are enough to feel, to be pained, to cry: this movie isn't necessary. In twenty or thirty years, maybe it will be. Maybe when everyone has started to forget, to move on, Ill break out World Trade Center and see it in a new light. But with all of the countless documentaries (including but not limited to the two I already mentioned), I doubt that Ill even need it then.

Don't get me wrong, I believe every story is worth being told, and every film is worth being made, but I reserve the right to criticize them all, too.
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Rent (2005)
8/10
Falls Short of the Play but Still Amazing
23 November 2005
Warning: Spoilers
WARNING: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS

If you have never seen Rent in any form, I urge you to see the play first. The movie captures the spirit of Jonathan Larson but must dumb it down a lot to comply with FCC standards that gave them their PG3 rating. Songs are lost ("Halloween," "Contact," "We're Okay" and most disappointingly "Christmas Bells") and others are turned into spoken word dialogue ("You Okay Honey," "New Years Eve"). In other songs, some of the characters are removed (such as Joanne in "Rent" and Angel in "You'll See Boys") in order not to confuse the audience.

The opening sequence of the film—from the cast standing on the stage at the Nederlander through the most expensive four minutes in a non-action film (the singing of "Rent")—sets the tone perfectly. The quick cutting and loud rock edge introduces these characters the way the play does—with no holds barred as they toss flaming pieces of paper out the window. The camera work is flawless here, as it is throughout the film, with high crane angles, sweeping jib motions, and the smooth pans of a steadicam. It is perfect.

Unfortunately the rest of the film doesn't quite match that initial tone: suddenly "New York" became very colorful and bright—a bit too well-lit and jovial for a serious story about relationships and hard times falling on a group of friends. While film was shot in 2.35 ratio to give the effect that you are still watching a stage performance (and thus you can see a great deal of the scenery around the characters), none of the subsequent scenes are as dark in texture or as high-energy (in terms of production value) as the opener. They put everything into it and came out spent, taking a breather in "You'll See Boys" which pretty much holds two camera positions throughout the dialogue and song. The pacing never found its flow: it jumped around and felt extremely rushed at the end as montage after montage was used to explain events that passed in the 525600 minutes of these friends' lives. For example, Mimi was only seen as a true addict throughout at the last few moments; up until then she just appeared like the majority of young New Yorkers in the art scene—a dabbler, an experimenter.

What was the most upsetting to me, though, was how the play was an ensemble cast, with Mark as a narrator throughout. The film tried to duplicate that but fell short: by cutting solo songs for Joanne and Angel, they became secondary characters. The balance was never retrieved. I'm not quite sure what Christopher Columbus actually did with this film: the cast didn't need much coaching, as the majority of them originated in these roles, and those the characters were already theirs. Each and every one of them gave an impeccable performance. Stephen Goldblatt's cinematography (as always) was complex and beautiful and added to the vibrant world, especially in "Life Support," when the camera took a 360 around the circle, always over the shoulder of one member to another and never once losing focus. Only once did it distract from the moment: when Mimi has just come back from nearly ODing she and Roger are sharing a moment, and they are in the far left corner of the screen, leaving an evenly spaced Maureen and Joanne to fill the middle and right side of the screen, and leaving the eye to naturally be drawn to them, even though it is a clear moment for Mimi. However, the fact that I can't find Chris Columbus in this film is not, by any means, a negative comment: he is no auteur, and if he tried to make too great a mark, he would have ruined the film.

Don't get me wrong, though: just because I am being critical does not mean I did not enjoy my time in the theatre. I saw the film at 12:01 AM on November 23rd— the very first showing on the west coast, and I was surrounded by other true Rent fans. We cheered, we clapped, we sang along, and we mooed with Maureen (as we should have). I am perhaps overly critical of this film not just because I work in this industry but also because I had such high expectations for the film—being such a die-hard fan (I saw the play on Broadway six times before I moved out of New York and once in LA since). Jesse L Martin was especially endearing: he took Tom Collins to a new level and clearly had a lot of fun doing it. The high moments of the film (other than the performances) were the almost "Chicago's" Roxanne moment in "Tango Maureen," "La Vie Boheme," (even though they took out parts of it) "Take Me Or Leave Me," and "Without Me."

Rent will make you laugh, make you cry, and most importantly, make you feel for and relate to its main characters. To some the subject matter is still controversial, but at the core is the most endearing and heartwarming story about true friends that I have ever seen. Rent is a great film, but an incomparable play. They should set up a three-camera shoot at the Nederlander and put that on DVD.
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