MIFF 2009 Day 6 - 29/7/09

• Aruitemo aruitemo (Still Walking, Hirokazu Kore-eda, Japan, 2008)
• Red Riding: 1980 (James Marsh, UK, 2009)
• Tatarak (Sweet Rush, Andzrej Wajda, Poland, 2009)
  

Still Walking
MIFF held a Kore-eda retrospective a couple of years ago and I think I saw them all, or maybe I missed one. Consequently, I was keen to see this latest effort and wasn't disappointed. Basically, it's a day in the lives of a family that unite (begrudgingly) each year to observe the death of a family member thirteen years earlier.

The son, daughter and their respective families travel to the home of their parents, an aging and retired doctor and his wife. It's summer and straight away I'm reminded of Olivier Assayas' sublime Summer Hours, especially the opening scene which similarly depicts the various dispersed branches of a family in an infrequent rural get-together in the family home. While Assayas' film procedes to explore other themes, Kore-eda's remains very much in the small details of the inter-family interactions.

Kore-eda is a very talented director. It is the observational nature of the film in capturing details of otherwise very ordinary people that makes this film a delight to watch. It feels almost a privilege to be privy to their lives, to see what makes them tick. It reminded me of a funeral I attended a couple of years ago for the father of a work colleague. I knew not the deceased man but attended to support my work pal, who had shown me support in various ways after my son's passing. At the funeral, I heard various eulogies that brought tears to my eyes as I received some insights into this man's life. And so I felt with this film, which becomes a meditation on the nature of relationships and ultimately, their passing.

Still Walking is a quietly satisfying film, certainly no headline act, but the type and quality of film I look forward to each year at MIFF, largely because this is the only time of year we get to see films like it. If quiet, nuanced, insightful, contemplative cinema is your thing, you'll want to see it.

Red Riding: 1980
As expected, with James Marsh at the helm, this is a big improvement over the previous instalment (Red Riding: 1974). The story seems to have a closer alignment to the Yorkshire killings, plays out with more realism and is more convincing all-round. Paddy Considine puts in a good performance and all-in-all, this ain't a bad genre film. I'm now looking forward to the final instalment, 1983, tomorrow.

BTW, while there are some slight connections between this and the previous film, you don't need to have seen the earlier one at all. This is self-contained.

Sweet Rush
It's Wajda in his twilight years; old age is here and death can't be too far away. And so it is with this film, a very strange creature indeed, that requires some further information to glean its meaning. It mixes a film's fiction with events taking place in the life of the film's protagonist and we switch between different 'realities'.

Technically, the talent is obvious and the visuals are very nice. A bit more narrative clarity would have been nice. By the end, I had some idea of what it's about and, if you ever consider seeing it, make sure you read up about it first.

MIFF Day 14

Tuesday August 7, the day Inland Empire premiered in Melbourne at MIFF. And it was worth the wait. More below, and more to come when time permits.

Distance (Hirokazu Kore-eda, Japan, 2001)
This is the last of the Kore-eda screenings at MIFF. Time constraints prevent me writing in detail right now about this film or the retrospective as a whole, and I hope to do this some time soon. The film is very quiet and a bit of a strange beast as it's slightly obscure narrative unfolds, switching between at least three different time frames.

Basically, it's about people associated with a cult that was responsible for the mass poisoning of the water supply some years earlier. It's not concerned with the criminal act itself as much as the interactions between these five people. It has a common aesthetic with the other Kore-eda films, though each film in his body is very different from the others. Once the dust has settled on MIFF, I'd like to revisit this and all the other Kore-eda titles to appreciate them without the crowd of other films in my mind. Briefly, Distance is another quite but powerful film.

Distance was the final screening of the Hirokazu Kore-eda retrospective at MIFF.

Inland Empire (David Lynch, USA, 2006)
Where were you on Friday 13 July at 11am? I was at my computer at work booking tickets for Inland Empire. I was a man on a mission. To hell with the other 267 films - must... book... Inland... Empire. In my naivete, I feared the film would sell out on day one of tickets going on sale. In actuality, it took a week or two, the first film to completely sell out.

Last night I arrived at ACMI half an hour early to find a huge queue, the longest I have seen there ever. I was at the bottom of the stairs (the cinema is upstairs), and the ushers had managed to get the queue to spiral around the stairs, around the perimeter of the ACMI space until it wound up near the box office. It was a sight. I still managed to get a prime seat close to where I normally sit.

Well, was it worth it? Was I disappointed? Yes to the first and a qualified no to the second. Look, not only is this Lynch's most cutting edge film to date but I'm going to put myself out on a limb and say this is an historically important work. Whether cinema history will come to regard it as same, only time will tell.

Some of my anticipated fears were realised. I'm not a fan of digital film-making, though there have been notable exceptions. Last year's Em 4 Jay was my favourite film of the year, and it was shot on high definition digital camera. It wasn't evident to me at all, and I later learnt that it underwent an expensive labour-intensive transfer process to film, the first Australian film to achieve this (which was done by the lab at little or no cost to the production). Still Life's use of digital cameras was more evident but remains my favourite film at MIFF so far. (Incidentally, it's second screening had to be replaced last night when the print didn't turn up.)

Lynch films usually incorporate lush, vibrant visuals. His use of HD digital on Inland Empire is well-known, and reviews of the film from overseas had pre-warned me that this film would not share the same aesthetics. One online reviewer described the experience as akin to "looking through four screen doors". These types of reactions did prepare me, and I was able to cut the film some slack.

Lynch is using a new medium and he's not afraid to experiment. Not afraid? Hell, he's charged full bore into the medium with enthusiasm, pushing various boundaries, achieving new effects. Focus and composition are some of the obvious experimentations. Digital looks different, and Lynch has used a whole range of manipulations of the medium to try to harness it. Some aspects won't appeal to all, including myself.

It somehow doesn't sound quite right calling Inland Empire an experimental film, as those two words conjure up visual incoherence, an euphemism for something that didn't quite work or a project that belongs at a cinematheque rather than a regular cinema. Inland Empire IS an experimental film by a highly competent master. Any incoherence is more a matter of creative freedom that Lynch has allowed himself, more so than any other feature film with his name on it.

This film takes the surrealism and investigations of consciousness and identity in Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive, and ups the ante to a whole new level. Don't think you can come out of this film understanding it. You can't, and (as I wrote about Lost Highway) that I believe is the intention and part of the enjoyment of the experience. This is seriously freaky shit - much more so than Lost Highway, which until now I have considered Lynch's least accessible film (and, I might add, my favourite film of all time). So not only has Lynch experimented with a new medium, but he's also experimented with cinema narrative. This is why I think this film is so important, in spite of its flaws.

What is the film about, I imagine you asking. Already much reported, this is not easy to answer. All I can do is quote Lynch, it's about "a woman in trouble". Thematically, it is closest to Mulholland Drive. Laura Dern certainly puts in a remarkable performance, and this is well and truly her chance in the spotlight. Lynch is brilliant in his placement of actors. He intuitively knows that we have expectations of someone's screen history, and totally reinvents it by placing the actor in a completely different setting to what we're accustomed to. What Lynch did for Bill Pullman in Lost Highway he has done for Dern in Inland Empire. With due respect, I don't think either of these actors has done much of note with any other director.

It was great to see Grace Zabriskie (Sarah Palmer in Twin Peaks) in a small but powerful and convincing role, a little like some of the bizarre metaphysical characters from Twin Peaks or Robert Blake's Mystery Man in Lost Highway. Harry Dean Stanton, Jeremy Irons and Justin Theroux all had good support roles.

Lynch aficionados will recognise many of his other devices as he further explores themes developed in earlier films. While there's a common aesthetic to any Lynch film, Inland Empire deviates more than any other from what people have come to expect of him. The recognisable sound of Angelo Badalamenti's music is there, but less obviously. The brilliant fusion and placement of music is still there, but also used with mostly restraint yet at times extravagance, particularly the end. And speaking of the end, this one is truly different to anything Lynch has done, with a kind of homage that references the film itself as well as others, particularly Twin Peaks and Mulholland Drive. Speaking in strange tongues we have seen in Twin Peaks, but in this film we have a foreign language (Polish) at times, with subtitles.

In short - because this post is just about my initial impressions and I'll have more to write about Inland Empire after my second or third viewing (the DVD is on its way) - I think this is a brilliant piece of work by Lynch. It's not my favourite. It's probably even not in my top five. It is, however, an important film that commands respect. The digital medium has a long way to go, and Lynch is in the forefront of those pioneering the creative use of it.

I'm now racing out the door to see my next MIFF session. If I can make the time, I'm going to see Inland Empire again tomorrow night (even though the session is long sold out, my festival pass gives me a prime reserved seat if I choose to use it).

Inland Empire screened as part of MIFF's International Panorama. It screens again on Thursday 9 August at 9.15pm at the Forum Theatre. Official website.

Links: Index of MIFF films reviewed to date / MIFF website

MIFF Day 10

Day ten is over, with nine to go. The time is just flying, and I feel I've paced myself quite well. When I booked a full festival passport, there was a bit of concern that I might OD on cinema. So far that hasn't happened. I have had a couple of days where I had booked four films, but on each occasion I bowed out of a session. Most days I'm seeing two or three films and on one occasion (not counting opening night), just the one. Maybe I can make this an annual thing - taking time off work and attending the festival full-time.

Today's two screenings were both Asian films (which I seem to be seeing a lot of, especially with the two Japanese retrospectives). In between the screenings, there was a meetup between a few bloggers - Mathieu Ravier from Last Night With Riviera, Matt Clayfield from Esoteric Rabbit, Olga from Ghost in the Invisible Bikini and the Melbourne Cinematheque blog (Olga, Matt C and myself are all current or past Cinémathèque committee members), Jana from mono no aware and her partner, Gareth (momentarily), and myself. It's great to be able to catch up with people that one mostly interacts with online.

After Life (Wandâfuru raifu, Hirokazu Kore-eda, Japan, 1998)
As Matt Clayfield mentioned after today's screening of After Life, this film should be compulsory viewing for film students. It proves that a good story put together inventively is all it takes to produce a compelling film. With scarce resources and mostly non-professional actors, Kore-eda has ingeniously contrived an alternate reality, where people go at the time of death. No pearly gates, no angels, no hell-fire - just bureaucrats in government buildings (or so they seemed to this writer), processing the dead, and extracting from them their lives' fondest memories to be made into videos.

This idea is almost comical, yet it works beautifully. Clearly there's a humorous element, but Kore-eda plays it matter-of-fact serious, almost like a documentary. For me it strongly recalls some of the early fiction films of Kieslowski (like Camera Buff) which evolved out of the documentary format. The film shares the beautifully raw aesthetics of Camera Buff and Blind Chance and with the latter's metaphysical exploration. Having seen at MIFF all but one of Kore-eda's films (Distance, which I plan to see on Tuesday), this is my favourite so far. But each of the films I have seen thus far are very different in content and style to each other. This film is both enjoyable and moving.

After Life had a single screening at MIFF as part of the Hirokazu Kore-eda retrospective. Also still to be screened: Distance

Woman on the Beach (Haebyonui yoin, Hong Sang-soo, South Korea, 2006)
In Woman on the Beach Hong Sang-soo has expertly crafted a drama of the ordinary, using great character development, insight and excellent attention to detail and without resorting to manipulative or sentimental devices.

A film director, Kim Jung-rae (played by Kim Seung-woo), goes away to the beach for the weekend with his assistant Chang-wook (Kim Tae-woo) and Chang-wook's girlfriend, Moon-suk (Go Hyun-jung). Jung-rae sets about bedding both Moon-suk one day and another woman, Sun-hee (Song Seon-mi) the next. Complications arise when the smitten Moon-suk returns the following day.

It's interesting that Hong depicts a film director. Is he criticising what he has seen in his own industry? Or maybe he's mocking himself. Superficially, it recalls Takashi Miike's Ôdishon (Audition, 1999) in which a film director sets up auditions in search of a wife. Without any of Miike's horror or fantasy, Hong uses an entirely plausible setup where a director uses his celebrity to beguile women for his selfish and short-term purposes.

Hong depicts a complex scenario with understatement, with nuanced characters who do not slip into gender stereotypes. While the males could have been caricatured and demonised, the setup is tempered by showing the complicity of females who also go against stereotype by refusing to be passive victims.

I haven't seen any of Hong's earlier films, so I can't place it in the context of his other work. I find it disappointing that we don't see more Korean cinema in this country on theatrical release. With just one minor quibble - the music was sometimes a little intrusive - this film is well-written, intelligent, very accessible, engaging and superior to most of the middle-of-the-road dramas we've been getting in recent months. This film should appeal to both casual arthouse film-goers and more serious cinephiles alike. It really deserves a theatrical release.

This was the second and final screening of Woman on the Beach as part of MIFF's Neighbourhood Watch, one of my favourite strands of MIFF (the other being International Panorama).

Links: Index of MIFF films reviewed to date / MIFF website

MIFF Day 9

Prior to MIFF starting, I was hoping to get to some film-related events such as Q&A sessions. As it turns out, today was the first one I attended, An Introduction to Shohei Imamura, a discussion of the films of Imamura given by Freda Freiburg. I found the talk quite fascinating, as it gave an historical context of Imamura's work. Various perspectives were covered, such as the Japanese New Wave emerging in the midst of an explosion in television as a medium and the young new directors having to push boundaries to differentiate cinema.

Imamura was discussed in relation to other directors of the time and how he differed. Other aspects covered were use of the symbolism of animals, the use of a documentary format, his recasting of Japanese stereotypes and the depiction of woman (both sexy and motherly, in contrast to the whore/mother paradigm). Freda mentioned that while Japan is generally known as a patriarchal society, Imamura depicted woman as stronger in will than men - perhaps a type of matriarchy, a concept that I have much sympathy for. As someone new to Imamura's films, it was great to be able to put some perspective to his work at a time when several of them are screening.

The Ballad of Narayama (Narayama bushiko, Shohei Imamura, Japan, 1983)
The screening of The Ballad of Narayama directly followed Freda Freiberg's talk, and sure enough, many of the points she made were visible in this film. Most notable was the regular appearance of animals, mirroring the actions of the humans, reinforcing humans as part of nature and the natural order. There were mating animals such as snakes, representing human lovers, a fox representing a thief and an owl devouring a mouse representing the village's killing a family.

In The Ballad of Narayama, set late nineteenth century rural Japan, Imamura doesn't differentiate between humans and other species as inter-related with nature. Birth and death are handled dispassionately. The final journey of the film involves a tribal custom of carrying one's parent to the top of the mountain to die. The concept and execution are poetic. Ken Ogata once again stars, and has good screen presence. He is handsome in an unconventional way. The film is infused with humour and a sense of humanity. It won the Palme d'Or at Cannes in 1983 and I enjoyed this it a lot.

The Ballad of Narayama had a single screening at MIFF as part of the Shohei Imamura retrospective. Also still to be screened: Black Rain, Eijanaika, Intentions of Murder, A Man Vanishes & The Pornographers.

The Night of Truth (La nuit de la vérité, Fanta Régina Nacro, Burkino Faso, 2004)
The Night of Truth refers to a peace accord between government and rebel troops who are joining at the camp of the rebels to celebrate peace at the end of a civil war. But terrible atrocities have been committed by both sides, and animosity threatens the peace. Taking place in one day, this little gem really engages right from the start and is a terrific tribute to peace and forgiveness, a common theme with Dry Season, also set in Africa.

The film quickly builds tension with a believable sense of mutual mistrust between the parties. The leaders of each side are committed to the peace process and each faces obstacles within their respective ranks who do not share that faith. Some have agendas of their own that threaten to derail the process. This is an impressive debut by Fanta Régina Nacro. I wouldn't go so far as to say that the end was disappointing, but it wasn't quite able to maintain the same level of believability as the first two acts. An excellent story with universal and current themes, good performances and good visuals make this well-worth seeing.

The Night of Truth had a single screening as part of MIFF's Africa! Africa!

Hana (Hana yori mo naho, Hirokazu Kore-eda, Japan, 2006)
This is Kore-eda's most recent film, produced by Shochiku Studios. That fact would not normally hold much meaning for me, but having watched the film in the company of Freda Freiberg, who gave the talk earlier in the day on Shohei Imamura (and is renowned for her knowledge of Japanese cinema), I learnt that this film's part-comedy/part-pathos is typical product for this studio.

While the film's cinematography and attention to period detail (set in the slums of 1702 Edo, now Tokyo) were excellent, the story itself was pretty lame. A young samurai, incompetent with a sword seeks revenge for his father's death, but finds himself unable to carry out the act. There's no doubting the competence of the director and the film's visuals are a joy to behold. It's not something that particularly engages me, but is the sort of film I would love to take my six year old son to. The blend of humour and almost slapstick action would certainly be enjoyed by him. Mind you, this is not really a children's film, even though it has the appeal of a Japanese version of a Disney film. Many adults would enjoy it, but it's not my thing.

Hana screened as part of MIFF’s Hirokazu Kore-eda retrospective. It screens again on Sunday 5 August at 3pm at the Forum Theatre. Also still to be screened:Distance, & After Life. Official website.

Links: Index of MIFF films reviewed to date / MIFF website

MIFF Day 8

After a quiet day yesterday, I saw another three films today and it was a real mixed bag. Nothing stood out particularly, but it's great to have the variety. I'm sure for most people who attend many festival screenings, variety is what it's all about.

Nobody Knows (Dare mo shiranai, Hirokazu Kore-eda, Japan, 2004)
Nobody Knows opens to the statement that while based on real events, the characters in the film are all fictitious. The film is a totally unsentimental portrayal of a mother's abandoning her children in an apartment to fend for themselves while she moves elsewhere with her lover. While the film's narrative is grim, in reality it was much worse.

While Kore-eda's Maborosi is a gentle meditative film with many sweeping shots of natural beauty, Nobody Knows is largely confined to the claustrophobic confines of a small Tokyo apartment that the children have been instructed by the mother to keep to. While the two films are visually different, they unsurprisingly share a common aesthetic, Kore-eda preferring to let the visuals do the talking. His style is very observational, the camera capturing many seemingly mundane details, perhaps reflecting his start in film with documentaries.

Kore-eda doesn't artificially build up the drama by, for example, the use of manipulative devices like music to portray the increasingly dire situation of the children. He trusts the audience to take note of the film's narrative, and to understand themselves that these children are in desperate need of help. The escalating measures taken by the children, and the increasing squalor said it all. The naturalistic performances by the children in the film were excellent and Yagira Yuya, then 14, won best actor award at Cannes 2004. As I wrote about Maborosi, this film rewards the patient viewer but could well be boring for the casual movie-goer.

Nobody Knows had a single screening at MIFF as part of the Hirokazu Kore-eda retrospective. Also still to be screened: Hana (Kore-eda's most recent film, which has two screenings), Distance, & After Life. Official website.

The Hottest State (Ethan Hawke, USA, 2006)
This was a surprisingly competent first film by Ethan Hawke as director. While it covers fairly safe territory - a romantic drama - it does it with nice visuals and some originality. While the protagonist William (Mark Webber) is a bit of a slacker, he was introspective enough to try to resolve some of his own issues when his lover Sarah (Catalina Sandino Moreno) splits and leaves him broken hearted. The fact that this was tackled from the male perspective, and grappled with some psychological insight gave the film some gravitas. Mind you, how deeply a twenty-one year old can delve into his psyche is another thing.

I found the film quite enjoyable, more than superficial, but still largely in the "middle-of-the-road" category - not that that's a bad thing. The cinematography was great, and there were nice camera angles. The music was nice but sometimes a little intrusive. While it's the type of film that's likely to do well at Sundance (maybe it has, I don't know), it's a lot better than the quirky comedies like Little Miss Sunshine et al. This film could do well on general release and was an OK film to add some variation to my MIFF viewings, but nothing to rave about. A good first effort by Hawke (who is also a guest speaker at the festival).

The Hottest State screened as part of MIFF's International Panorama. It has no further screenings at MIFF.

I Don’t Want to Sleep Alone (Hei yan quan, Tsai Ming-Liang, Malaysia/China/Taiwan/France/Austria, 2006)
This is a strange film, very strange, and not the type of film to get a release outside of a festival. There was virtually no dialogue for two hours - mostly visuals with background noises and music (played in the scene, not dubbed over). We see various strugglers on the streets and buildings of Malaysia and get a strong sense of alienation.

The film is almost a photo essay, constructed largely of beautifully composed shots of urban decay. There's the flooded building site, modest abodes, a huge butterfly and the surrealist streets choked in smoke from Indonesian bushfires. The film challenges an audience's patience and I was surprised there were only a few walkouts. My partner left after 90 minutes, and shortly after a little more action started to appear. A sex scene affected by the smoke was amusing. The final take is particularly poignant and poetic. The film is not something I would generally recommend, but if you like something unusual during a festival, it might be worth a look in. Just be prepared to be patient.

I Don’t Want to Sleep Alone screened as part of MIFF's Neighbourhood Watch. It screens again on Sunday 5 August at 5.15pm at the RMIT Capitol Theatre.

Links: Index of MIFF films reviewed to date / MIFF website

MIFF Day 7

I only saw one film at MIFF today. With evening French classes, I needed a bit of free time to regroup my energies for some of the heavier days ahead. I'm hoping to see four tomorrow, but we'll see if that eventuates. I met a MIFF regular yesterday whoMIFF is a marathon, not a sprint.

Maborosi (Maboroshi no hikari, Hirokazu Kore-eda, Japan, 1995)
Not having seen a Kore-eda film before, the style of this film took a while to get a handle on. It is a film about grieving, about loss. A young woman with a newly born child loses her husband, who has apparently committed suicide. There is little dialogue and little development of relationship dynamics with much of the gaps to be filled in by the imagination of the audience. The film had the style of a 1970's art film and with a disappointingly scratchy print, it certainly looked it. There was a sense of timelessness about the film.

Kore-eda has an aesthetic that won't appeal to the casual film-goer. It is very slow-moving, and some of the indoor shots are quite dark. After a while, I got the sense that the viewer's attention is not meant to take in the whole screen, but rather parts of the screen such as the illuminated side of a woman's face in a dark room or the shapes of people reflected in water. Kore-eda seems fascinated with light and exploration of its use. Frames of illuminated subjects are contained within the larger screen frame. Light reflects of different surfaces, and at different times of the day. This is a film where you really need to 'get in the zone'.

I liked the film. It rewards the patient viewer and the ending was very moving. A repeat viewing will enhance my appreciation and I look forward to seeing more of Kore-eda's films at MIFF.

Maborosi had a single screening at MIFF as part of the Hirokazu Kore-eda retrospective.

Also still to be screened: Nobody Knows, Hana (Kore-eda's most recent film, which has two screenings), Distance, & After Life.

Links: Index of MIFF films reviewed to date / MIFF website