By Erin Free
Worth: $17.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Yiannis Niarros, Kostas Nikouli, Alexandros Chrysanthopoulos, Giannis Tsortekis
Intro:
...signals the arrival of a profoundly interesting writer/director who marches determinedly to the beat of his own drum.
Awash with gorgeous imagery courtesy of cinematographer Jorg Gruber, and rich in a distinctly 1970s-derived aesthetic, Brando with a Glass Eye – executive produced by Wayne Blair and produced by Australia’s Bronte Pictures and Ficino Films – is the swirling, occasionally dreamy tale of Greek mechanic Luca (a big, bold turn from Yiannis Niarros), a wannabe actor with a murky family history potentially on his way to New York to join the legendary Actors Studio. With old video footage of famed acting coach Stella Adler loudly extolling the meaning of performance in the background, Luca appears near-obsessed with the craft of acting. But when Luca and his younger brother Alekos (the very affecting Kostas Nikouli) engage in an ill-advised heist, rich kid Ilias (the excellent Alexandros Chrysanthopoulos) ends up shot and in hospital. In a bizarre attempt at redemption, Luca befriends the injured Ilias, who is blissfully unaware of who his freewheeling, dramatic, iconoclastic new pal really is. Ilias’ uncle Vasilis (the imposing Giannis Tsortekis), however, is instantly suspicious of his nephew’s larger than life friend.
Despite its crime thriller-ish accoutrements, Brando with a Glass Eye is certainly no Greek take on Tarantino. Obviously hung up on the American films of the seventies (surely, it’s no coincidence that Niarros rocks a Serpico-era Pacino beard and long locks, as well as a wardrobe that would make Vincent Gallo envious), Brando with a Glass Eye actually has the feel of a Paul Schrader “god’s lonely man” flick, as Luca flies high on his own energy, but also succumbs to the demons of his past and the decidedly less likeable aspects of his personality. Luca is insufferable at times, but you can’t take your eyes off him as he scratches and claws desperately for redemption.
Highly unusual and unlike most other films to come around the pike in recent times, Brando with a Glass Eye signals the arrival of a profoundly interesting writer/director in Melbourne’s own Antonis Tsonis, who marches determinedly to the beat of his own drum.
