This film has gotten quite a bit of attention since its Sundance best picture win, not all of it good. Much was made of the director Debra Granik’s virtual embedding in the Ozark community, of the film’s gritty, authentic realism. But I heard Monsieur Porterfield give a rather arch assessment of the film. Is he simply jealous of its success? Or was Sundance mistakenly dazzled by Frozen River part deux? I decided to see for myself.

The plotline is somewhat similar: a drug-dealing father runs off and leaves his family to fend for themselves. But in this case the slack is taken up by the teenage daughter (well played by Jennifer Lawrence). She fights to feed and care for her two younger siblings as well as her mentally-ill mother, barely getting by on squirrel meat and hand outs from neighbors. The breaking point comes when the sheriff delivers the news that their father has put the house and land up for bail. Faced with the loss of their home, and desperate to survive, she unflinchingly goes after him, and her search brings her into violent conflict with the local meth-dealing clan.

Despite some narrative parralels I wouldn’t really equate Winter’s Bone and Frozen River. The greatest similarity is the anchoring performances of the leads, in the previous case Melissa Leo’s Oscar-nominated turn, in this case Jennifer Lawrence. The sombre, clipped dialogue doesn’t give her much to work with but Lawrence brings a compelling depth to the role. Compared to the flinty women she comes up against, with faces cut like granite, she would seem to be at a disadvantage. But Lawrence draws a quiet strength from a deeper well, and the subtle emotions flitting across her face make her seem somehow more formidable than the heartless folk around her.

Perhaps the greatest difference is in the visual style – Winter’s Bone trades up. Instead of shaky, tinny video we get elegant compositions of silvery blues and grays. I heard the DP paid out of pocket to help finance the film, and his commitment to the material shows in the care he took. It looks beautiful.

Despite these strengths I can see where Porterfield is coming from. There is a borrowed feeling about the whole enterprise, as if Granik dared to go only so far. We never get an insider’s sense of how or why the community functions as it does, and treats with such cruelty a struggling young woman who only wants to care for her family.

For more go to wintersbonemovie.com.

A fan’s portrait of the singer and musician Billy Paul, this documentary by a Swedish team brings Continental appreciation to a quintessentially American story.

Loose in structure, the film is based around the crew’s travels with Billy Paul as he tours the world. Though he is well into his seventies he’s still got it, and there are some great live performances as well as more intimate, unrehearsed improvisatory singing.

The other threads of the story – making it as a Black man in America, making it in the cutthroat music industry, dealing with drug addiction and infidelity – are handled by Billy Paul with the candor and grace that is earned with age. Equally as compelling is his wife, manager, and life partner Blanche Williams, who has been by his side through it all. Fans such as Questlove add more measured commentary and some comic relief.

Overall the film is a bit rambling and slow, and it lacks a decisive narrative. But the music buffs in the audience didn’t seem to mind, and everyone grooved to his iconic Me & Mrs. Jones. We were lucky enough to see a 35mm print, which added luscious shadowy tones and a seventies flair to the film’s look (supplemented by archival footage). I’m not sure how the film will translate on a smaller, digitized screen, but I guess that’s my reward for trekking out to BAM (smile).

Watch the trailer for Am I Black Enough for You?