This was Christopher Nolan’s first full-length movie. At a tick under 70 minutes, it’s efficiency is one of the several reasons why it’s worth a look. Another is clearly that it was Nolan’s first, and completists and other enthusiasts should take note. Maybe most importantly, crazily, is that it’s actually good.

The following of the title is done by the main character, who calls himself Bill (at first). Bill’s a writer, otherwise unemployed, and at the outset is telling someone – a therapist, possibly, or an official of some sort, whoever – about the pattern of behavior that led him to the office where he now sits. Curious as many writers are, Bill would shadow a random person for a certain length of time, thankfully with some self-imposed rules designed to curtail truly threatening behavior before it starts. We see him on the street tailing a few people here and there, and then, for what has the look and headiness of an “art film,” something amazing happens: The film takes a daring turn into plot. I was thrilled by this declarative choice. Another, not to say lesser, filmmaker might have let this protagonist follow people for ages, far longer than 70 minutes, without anything compelling actually happening to this guy. But soon enough, something does, and the film earns a good two of its stars right there.

What happens is that Bill is quickly caught spying, by a man in a suit named Cobb (just like DiCaprio’s character in Inception). Cobb looks like a banker but admits to being a burglar – already, we see a pitfall of perception. Bill follows Cobb on a burglary, and the film carries on from there. Moreover, it carries on in fits and starts, a bit out of joint. We skip ahead and then back, but going ahead in this case doesn’t give anything away, in fact only complicating things before at least some measure of resolution is provided.

Because we now know all that Nolan did soon after Following – Memento was released just two years later – maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised how well-crafted this movie was. (Speaking of Nolan’s future movies, one apartment in the film has the Batman logo on its front door!) For a simpler production, one with only a few characters and a few locations, a fascinating little story was told. Shots weren’t indulgent or showy. I didn’t get the impression that Nolan was trying to do more with less. Because the narrative had enough energy of its own, the cinematography didn’t have to bear too much of the creative weight.

The acting was actually pretty good, considering the two lead roles were filled by actors who didn’t go on to do much other film acting at all. Cobb was played by Alex Haw, with the sharpness of mind and features of Rupert Everett, while Bill was portrayed by Jeremy Theobald. There’s also a femme fatale played by Lucy Russell entangled in all this. I’d say the movie only really strained when playing up some of its more noirish elements, particularly when Bill is forced to be the heavy. Otherwise, Following is commendable, especially the dialogue which is to be lauded not because it sounds like people really talk, but like people really talk in the movies.

The movie merits at least one viewing, but might be best with two or three to see how it all fits together. Yes, it ends up being one of “those” movies, without giving too much away. Thank goodness, then, that Following is good to begin with. With Christopher Nolan, I’ve come to expect nothing less.

In brief: Only 70 minutes or so, no fuss, nice little mystery.
3 stars/4 (B+)
Available on Netflix Instant

The husband of Elisabeth Shue knows something of sexiness, so I’m not entirely surprised by Davis Guggenheim’s evocative treatment of guitars and their players in this fine documentary. It’s rare that my mouth waters and I get chills down my spine while watching movies or television – usually it’s food preparation that does it – but the awe with which the camera depicts the hardware involved in this production, especially early on, bringing you in, made those physiological responses kick in almost immediately.

And this movie is about the guitar as much as it’s about Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White. Likewise, their stories are told in the context of rock music – and its ancestors – over the last seventy or eighty years. These three men are interesting and worthy choices, because of their talent and their stature, but also because of the way their styles mesh and differ. Their selection might have been with an eye towards covering a lot of musical ground, and time: Page’s heyday in the late 60s and 70s, The Edge’s in the 80s, and on-and-off since then, and Jack White’s over the last decade or so. All are clearly intelligent men, articulate, and willing to share the details of their life’s passions. The openness wasn’t startling, exactly, but it was refreshing and captivating: Jimmy Page doesn’t really sing, The Edge only a little, and Jack White (as he admits here) often keeps behind a gimmick to let, as they all do, the music speak for them.

Early on, the three men are shown in cars, headed to meet up with each other, ostensibly to play and talk about their craft. The result isn’t exactly a bait and switch, but the film is far less a recording of this summit and whatever is to go on there, than it is three oral histories interwoven and played against each other. The film is only very loosely organized, each story much more in relation to the others than to some linear chronological narrative. Their early lives are illuminated only briefly, most significantly in the context of the music and in particular of the electric guitar. While the focus wavers slightly as the documentary rolls on, the scope of the presentation is well and clearly defined.

The aforementioned summit is depicted every so often along the way, and frankly I was hoping for more of it. It’s true that much of the information that was to be communicated was shown and not told (though as with any documentary like this, plenty was also said). But this also wasn’t a roundtable discussion, an extended Charlie Rose interview, say, though I would have loved to have been a fly on that wall for a little while longer. I especially loved seeing them learning each other’s songs, just as they might have done with popular songs when they were just starting out. That’s the key, right there: Little was made of their rise to celebrity, but much was made of their interest, their love, really their decision to let fly and fully embrace this art.

I was also pleased to hear of their curiosity, to hear new music and to play music differently, seeking out whatever technology would bring their preferred sound into the world. The chance meetings they had in life, the influence that friends, family, co-workers have had by way of introducing new ideas or devices, these were fascinating things to hear about, but comforting, too – that there are real men behind this music, all from somewhere, all touched by this wonderful piece of hardware.

In brief: Guitar porn. Recommended if you love rock music, highly recommended if you play guitar, essential if any of these guys’ bands are among your top three.
3.5 stars/4 (A-)
Available on Netflix Instant

Make no mistake, we live in interesting times. Given all the generations that preceded us, and all that might follow if the whole 2012 thing blows over, consider how blessed we have we been to be present for the creation and exhibition of The Human Centipede (First Sequence). And I say, “Finally!” Haven’t we all wondered what it would be like to surgically modify and connect three people via their mouths and anuses?

Dr. Heiter is a first-rate surgeon from Germany whose specialty is disconnecting conjoined twins. But he’s also a man that has dreams. And helping him on the road to the realization of those dreams are a random trucker, poor sap tourist girls who should know better, a Japanese guy, generally people who are unaware until it’s too late of which integral part they might play. Dr. Heiter has been saddened by the loss of his 3-dog, the beast with three backs (sort of), the first iteration of a hypothetical creature of his own design: The title of the movie. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves. In this one, it’s just three human beings who get the nod.

Two of them are American tourists of bottomless stupidity, and… I can’t do it. I can’t continue to summarize the plot, it’s just too ridiculous. To analyze it is needless. To begin to put down the decision-making of these girls right out is fine, but to be judgmental at all is to assume that this movie isn’t centrally about taking the digestive systems of three people and making them one. If the premise alone wasn’t convincing enough, luckily the movie wastes no time before letting you know to throw any, and I mean any sense of artistry aside and to get ready to laugh and feel morally violated. It’s a movie to joke your way through, and in that regard, totally worth it.

If anything else, it’s a litmus test for your own constitution. I’m sort of squeamish; in real life I’m not really a fan of wounds and surgery and other people’s body parts in non-sexual situations, reasons all for not becoming a doctor. But I’m all right with most of that on-screen. Except for teeth stuff, a little bit of eye stuff, and dismemberment. I thought all that going in, but some of those fears were confirmed with this film while I remained indifferent to others. In one scene I see the helplessness in the eyes of a poor girl as she ingests the fecal matter of the Asian man she’s been sewn to, but that bothers me less than a tooth extraction scene, during which I did leave the room under the pretense of fetching another beer, which I needed anyway. (But then, I don’t even like the full-stop tooth extraction in the claymation Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, which beyond being frightening is actually really sad.) Actually, for a theoretically graphic movie, there wasn’t an excess of gore or blood or other bodily fluids to be seen beyond one short sequence.

It’s long out of theaters – unbelievably – but this one’s definitely one to watch with a group of people, to make merciless fun of it and for solidarity during the more gruesome parts. I also recommend Daniel Tosh’s excellent walkthrough for a post-viewing denouement (or as a stand-in if the movie sounds too horrible to exist).

And there’s going to be a sequel!

In brief: So bad it’s bad, but practically unmissable.
1 star/4 (D)
Seen on: Netflix streaming