As a hagiographic ode, Sebastian Dehnhardt’s documentary covers the life and career of Dallas Maverick’s all-world superstar, Dirk Nowitzki, from gangly kid in Würzburg, Germany, where he was often told he was “too small to play,” to NBA top gun. For such a rah-rah career-capping fist bump, The Perfect Shot offers enough surprises, insights and revelations to be more than just a Sports Center highlight reel.
Part of that comes in the fact that Dehnhardt is German too and has deep personal knowledge of Nowitzki’s roots and the history of basketball in their homeland, which was brought there in the ’30s, by an obsessive who went to America to encamp with the game’s founder, James Naismith. We catch up with Nowitzki, now in his mid-thirties, heading toward retirement and the Hall of Fame, at the doctor where we learn that most of his joints have severe ailments from the stress of the game. One teammate remarks that it’s amazing that Nowitzki is so stiff and gimpy yet can take the court and “drop in thirty or forty points, and [make] it look easy.”
One reason for that is Nowitzki’s longtime partnership with Holger Geschwinder, who’s been a mentor to Nowitzki since he was a teen and now serves as part of the Mavericks’ coaching staff. Their workout sessions are long, grueling ordeals during which Geschwinder—who teammate Vince Carter refers to as “the mad scientist”—is always looking for a new physiological or scientific (he has a physics background) means to give Nowitzki the edge. Geschwinder, Mavs’ coach Rick Carlisle and rival Kobe Bryant all weigh in on conditioning, endless practice and execution. In his down time, Geschwinder seeks the object of the film’s title—a shot that’s not blockable and able to drop through the hoop without possibility of hitting and bouncing off the rim (which he calculates to require an arc of sixty degrees). Continue reading
Beyond the tightly coiled energy of Kitana Kiki Rodriguez, who plays Sin-Dee, a motormouth streetwalker newly out of jail and anxious to catch up to her cheating beau, what makes “Tangerine” kick is the fantastic editing and scoring by Sean Baker, who also writes, directs and shoots. The combination boasts a kinetic buzz that simultaneously emulates and accents Sin-Dee’s vulnerable rage as she plows through trash-strewn streets and seedy alleys looking for Chester (James Ransone) who, as her bestie Alexandra (Mya Taylor) puts it, has taken up with “a real bitch, vagina and all, real bitch.” (If the word offends, skip “Tangerine.” because it’s dropped as frequently as the article “the”).
Heineman gained a perilous unlimited access to his subjects; it might be more accurate to say he’s embedded. The film begins with the steamy nighttime capture of an outdoor meth lab where the brewers wear bandannas to conceal their faces from the camera – and the noxious vapors. They do what they do out of opportunity. “As long as god allows it, we make drugs,” one offers meekly. They learned how to make their cocktail from an American chemist and his son. (Maybe Walter White is still kicking around?)
Much of what propels “Genisys” lies in the basis for James Cameron’s game-changing B-film some 30 years ago: the notion of rewinding the clock and altering history and destiny. Wrinkles upon wrinkle in time have changed the game so much you almost can’t tell where rebel leader John Connor (Jason Clarke, with a scar-marred face) ends and Skynet begins.
The roots for the documentary go back to when Moselle ran into the boys, a.k.a. the Wolfpack, on the street, caught by their eye-catching long hair (down to their waists) and demeanor. What unfolds is talking heads and recreations looking back to their early childhood, when the boys were kept under lock and key. Their father, Oscar, a Hare Krishna who met their mother, Susan, in his native Peru, blessed all his offspring with uber-long Sanskrit names. As a patriarch and a man, Oscar’s more hippie than overbearing despot, but his logic – to lock the boys within the plastered walls of a tenement apartment in the projects to keep them safe from outside harm and violence lurking in the streets – seems odd given the blood-soaked nature of their cinematic diet.
Bujalski’s first film cost just $30,000 to make (it grossed about $75,000) and starred no-name actors; here he’s blessed with the reliable Guy Pearce, Cobie Smulders (Agent Maria Hill in the “Avengers” movie and “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.” television series) and character actor Kevin Corrigan (“Superbad” and “Goodfellas”) who steps to the fore and delivers a knockout performance. “Results” is based on the well-being fad, in which everyone wants to get physically and emotionally fit and fortified. Danny (Corrigan) newly and painfully out of a marriage he didn’t want to exit, transplants to Austin. He’s doughy, rich and angry. He also wants to be able to take a punch, so he signs up for a personal trainer at Power for Life, a boutique health spa run by Trevor (a gaunt and toned Pearce) who pushes the philosophy that wellness is more than physical beauty, even though his crew of crack coaches look like magazine cover specimens. The upbeat but aggressive Kat (Smulders) gets the assign and spends time at Danny’s palatial spread trying to get him lean and buff, but he drags her down into his routine of single-malt scotch and weed. Turns out she’s a bit depressed and angry too. If there’s a deadbeat client, Kat’s more than happy to switch over to into loan collector mode, and boy can she run – look out Lola, she’s on your tail. 
For What it's Worth 