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In theaters October 29th, 2010

Synopsis
In THE GIRL WHO KICKED THE HORNETS’ NEST – the final installment of the “Millennium trilogy” – Lisbeth Salander is fighting for her life in more ways than one. In intensive care and charged with three murders, she will not only have to prove her innocence, but also identify and denounce those corrupt government institutions that very nearly destroyed her life. Once upon a time, she was a victim. Now Salander is fighting back.

By Alessandra A. Alma

On Wednesday, August 11th, Dewars and 7-57 Releasing hosted the premiere for “La Soga.” The film stars Manny Perez, who also wrote and produced the film, former Miss Universe Denise Quinones, and Juan Fernandez.

The action packed thriller is set in the Dominican Republic and tells the story of Luisito (Perez) who sets out to avenge the death of his father, after watching his murder by a deported drug dealer. As Director of the Dominican Secret Police, General Colon (Fernandez) feed into Luisito’s desire for revenge and turns him into a ruthless killer. Luisito is reunited with Jenny (Quinones), a childhood sweetheart unaware of his family tragedy and occupation, and quickly falls for each other. When Luisito gets closer to vengeance, he is framed for a crime he didn’t commit and must take justice into his own hands.

La Soga is a story of the life, the culture and the landscape of the island nation. It took Manny ten years to write the film. “Everything that happened in the film happened to me growing up in the Dominican Republic, so it’s very personal”, says Manny Perez. “It’s a work that will make you think about life, animals, and people in third world countries.”

Combined with solid acting, a powerful and well written script, a passionate soundtrack and beautiful cinematography, La Soga is a cinematic work of art.

La Soga opens national wide on August 13. For more information on the film visit

www.lasogamovie.com

THE TIGHTROPE
http://www.rooftopfilms.com/2010/schedule/24-the-tightrope

WHERE:
On the roof of El Museo Del Barrio
1230 5th Ave. at 104th St. (East Harlem)
New York, NY 10029
6 to 103rd St. or 2/3 to 110th St.

WHEN:
8:00 Doors Open
8:30 Live Music by Rana Santacruz
9:00 Film begins
11:30 After-party on the roof: Open bar courtesy of Radeberger Pilsner

THE FILM:

A pink poodle leaps on the back of a horse–or tries to over and over.
A trapeze artist literally scrapes his shoulders against the
stars–the fabric of the big top is wearing thin. A clown’s face
brightens up–imperceptibly, perhaps, to all but the closest observer.
The images are evocative, the performers are passionate, but for this
classic family circus, passing through small towns in Mexico, the show
is suffering and the crowds are sparse. The noble search for glory is
giving way to the mere struggle for survival.

Filmmaker Nuria Ibanez has pointed out that in cinema, as in the
circus, there has always been a divide between “the machine of dreams
and the mirror of reality,” between fiction/fantasy and
documentary/reality. Ibanez, trained as a screenwriter, expertly melds
the two forms in her stunning debut film, The Tightrope. With a deft
eye for symbolic details, a remarkable gift for artistically
representing key story points, and the ability to quietly build
narrative tension, Ibanez has crafted a realist documentary that feels
like a dreamy fiction.

Ibanez illuminates the way the circus itself attempts to cross fluidly
between these realms. We see the performers practice and theorize, out
of costume and in the bright of day, as they aim to create wondrous
illusions that are remarkably real. But with this circus a forlorn
reality has settled on their lives like the meticulously observed
sawdust on their sweat. They are caught in a cycle spiraling downward:
decreasing crowds portend less revenue; lack of funds means broken
props, misplaced costumes and lost animals; low morale leads to
sub-par performances.

At the end of her rope, in love with a performer who doesn’t have the
circus truly in his blood, Jaque, the eldest daughter of the circus,
considers leaving. Her ongoing contemplation–sometimes seen in
frustrated exchanges, sometimes coyly hidden behind a
curtain–comprises the emotional crux of the film. It’s easy to
understand why she would leave this difficult life. But she sees in
her father, who impressively demonstrates his expertise at many circus
arts, the pride and dignity of the hardworking performer-craftsman.
And as she discusses with her mother, if she leaves the spotlight, “no
one will ever applaud you for cooking dinner.”

Jaque gazes beyond the bigtop, the circus balances on a tightrope, and
viewers of this lovely and intimate film will be riveted to the
screen.

—

And yet there were very few critics at one of the only New York press screenings of Letters to Juliet, which suggests to me that it’s somehow viewed as disposable, a movie not worth bothering with. Their loss. If even half the movies coming out of Hollywood these days, regardless of the genre they fit into, were made with as much care and spirit as Winick and his cast have poured into Letters to Juliet, the current moviegoing landscape would be a much greener, happier place.

The plot of Letters to Juliet is the sort that generally gets the word “formulaic” slapped on it: Amanda Seyfried is Sophie, an aspiring writer who is, for now, toiling away as a fact checker at The New Yorker. (Her boss there, the big cheese, is played by Oliver Platt — just call him Oliver Plattnick.) Sophie is engaged to be married to Victor (Gael Garcia Bernal), who’s preoccupied with the restaurant he’s about to open. The two have planned a pre-wedding pre-honeymoon to romantic Verona, Italy. But upon their arrival Victor, busy tasting cheese and buying wines at auction, proceeds to ignore her.

Sightseeing by herself, she makes her way to one of the city’s landmarks, a house that might have belonged to Shakespeare’s doomed heroine Juliet had she been a real person. To plenty of people, Juliet is real — visitors, most of them women, pour their hearts out to her in hand-written letters, which they then place along the house’s outer wall. At the end of each day the letters are collected and answered by a group of volunteers, Juliet’s “secretaries” (played here by a four actresses who twinkle just enough, but not too much, including Luisa Ranieri).

After befriending these women, Sophie makes a discovery that could be the subject of her first big story: Hidden behind a loose brick in the wall, she finds a letter dated 1957, from an English girl who fears she’s made a mistake by walking away from her young Italian lover. Sophie responds to the letter, and is astonished when a stuffy young English twerp, Charlie (Christopher Egan), shows up in Verona along with the writer of the letter, his grandmother Claire (Vanessa Redgrave), now a 70-something widow. Claire hopes to reconnect with her lost love, a guy named Lorenzo, and Charlie is none too pleased about it: He doesn’t want to see his grandmother hurt or disappointed. Nonetheless, the three find themselves criss-crossing the Tuscan countryside in the hopes that Claire will find her Lorenzo, among the dozens of Lorenzos with the same surname who live in the area. Their search — and Sophie’s gradual realization that Charlie isn’t such a dink after all — constitutes the “formula” of Letters to Juliet.