The Week in Review - 4/4/10

I haven't mentioned much yet about this year's La Mirada, one of my favourite local film festivals. I filled in a survey at the festival today at ACMI and for the question about what I like about the festival I put: [festival director] Rocio Garcia's passion and love for cinema (she introduces most of the films), the volume of door prizes, the atmosphere, the Almodóvar curated section and the pre-recorded intros by the respective film directors. That pretty much sums up for me why I go to the festival. A couple of years ago, I missed a real gem, In the City of Sylvia, which thankfully I caught at Melbourne Cinémathèque last year. Today I saw a similar gem, Paz Fábrega's Agua fría de mar/Cold Water of the Sea. More on this below.

During the week, I've been previewing some films for the Festival of German Films. I'll post a separate article on these films in the next week or two. Hopefully by then, I'll have my thoughts in writing on at least seven films, leading up to the festival's opening on 22 April.

FILMS:

• Tesis (Thesis, Alejandro Amenábar, Spain, 1996)
• Agua fría de mar (Cold Water of the Sea, Paz Fábrega, Costa Rica/France/Spain/Netherlands/Mexico, 2009)
  

DVD/BLU-RAY*:

• *Léon: The Professional (Luc Besson, France,1994)
• The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers (Judith Ehrlich/Rick Goldsmith, USA, 2009)
• Big Fish (Tim Burton, USA, 2003)
  
• Die Tür (The Door, Anno Saul, Germany, 2009)
• Die Standesbeamtin (Will You Marry Us?, Micha Lewinsky, Switzerland, 2009)
• John Rabe (Florian Gallenberger, France/China/Germany, 2009)

Thesis
This film interested me because (1) it's part of La Mirada's Almodóvar Presents. For me, Almodóvar's films provoke much discussion, even though (as I've often mentioned) I am greatly ambivalent about the films - see my post on Volver for more on that. And (2) because this is the first feature film by Alejandro Amenábar, director of such celebrated films as Abre los ojos/Open Your Eyes (remade as the inferior Tom Cruise vehicle, Vanilla Sky) and The Others (with the then Mrs. Cruise, Nicole Kidman).

What an impressive debut it is. According to festival director Rocio Garcia who introduced the film, Amenábar was only 23 years old when the film was made, still studying at university. He wrote, directed and composed the music. It's no high art, but a fabulous homage to cinema, and Hitchcock in particular. A female film student is doing a thesis on violence in the media and stumbles across a snuff film, leading to a dangerous journey in which her life is seemingly put at risk.

This is B-grade film-making at close to its best, and I mean that in the nicest possible non-disparaging way. The plot is pure B-grade. It's predictable and cliched (like the best Hitchcock films are), yet the writing is strong enough to capture your emotions anyway and I remained in suspense for the film's duration, even if it is slightly overlong. Despite this simple premise, Thesis works on other levels, too, for example questioning the audience's fascination with violence in film (something Haneke does in a more oblique and intellectual manner).

Amenábar demonstrates a great deal of film literacy, especially at so young an age. Being about film studies, students and teachers, he infuses the film with technical aspects of film-making and there are many filmic references. It was a blast to hear an academic deliver a lecture about what was wrong with Spanish cinema and what it needed, mirroring recent introspective discussions here about what's wrong with our industry. For the record, the academic was promoting the need for films to appeal to audiences, to attract bums on seats. Very familiar, indeed. Bear in mind that this was made fourteen years ago. I let out a big laugh at the time, and I'm sure those that heard me had no idea why.

There's a roughness, a crudeness, about this film that gives it both a bite and immense appeal, an appealing aesthetic. It's great to see what an inexperienced but talented film-maker can do on the smell of an oily rag. Not unlike Almodóvar, for that matter. The subject matter - the making of snuff films - is also challenging at times. Fortunately, the horror aspects are brief, just enough to put the fear of god into us at certain times, ratcheting up the suspense as we ponder what might transpire. Again, this is no high art, but well-worth seeing as part of Amenábar's oeuvre, to see where he began. It demonstrates that his later successes were no accident.

Agua fría de mar
I was in two minds about seeing this film. There's few reviews online, which appear mixed. In the end, I went with gut instinct and thought I'd take a risk because the film also appeared to take risks. La Mirada director introduced the film, mentioning that the festival is screening films by eight first time directors this year, including Agua fría. This film was a last minute inclusion after the festival's programming had already been concluded, which caused much inconvenience for rescheduling. Now, this is not a mainstream film - think Jose Luís Guerin, Pedro Costa (without his bleakness) or Lucrecia Martel (La mujer sin cabeza/The Headless Woman) - so my already high regard for Rocio Garcia expanded to an increased respect for her selection in cinema after seeing this.

So, as you can probably tell by now, I was impressed by this film. It has a minimalist aesthetic similar to the films by the above-mentioned directors, an understated confidence in story-telling without gimickry or overt manipulation, and a lovely eye for visuals that added perfectly to a particular ambience - and all with little or no music, other than what appears organically within the narrative and a cast of largely non-professional actors.

The film employs devices consistent with the concept of 'contemplative cinema' with long static takes in which not a whole lot seems to transpire. One has to 'enter the zone', skip to the film's pace, so to speak, and one can't help but take notice of visual details and sounds. One near constant is the rolling thunder of the waves - sometimes near, sometimes far - which maintains a specific sense of place. The film combines intertwining stories of two families on holiday by the sea. I've not been to Costa Rica but imagine the climate would not be dissimilar to neighbouring Panama, which I visited in 1987.

The film was introduced via pre-recorded video by the director and lead actress, both incredibly young. Paz Fábrega mentioned that the theme of the film is about young people not really knowing what their path in life is. Of course, the same can be said for those of us who are twice her age, but point taken. That's one thread through the film, which is deftly portrayed with much nuance, understatement and ambiguity.

Part of the film's appeal for me is the loose ends - there's no tidying up of issues, or even explanation of issues, leaving much to the imagination. There's another element of contemplative cinema - we are left wondering, speculating, trying to join the dots after we've left the cinema.

The other family thread in the film involves a family with four children, and the youngest goes missing one night. The film has an almost fly-on-the-wall element as we observe the seemingly mundane details of their interactions, the way they relate to each other. There's a sort of frustration, watching some dysfunctional interactions that we are helpless to intervene with. There's no sign-posting of this, and unless one is aware of the issues in real life, one may not recognise the significance within the film. Isn't this what good cinema is about? We each draw something according to our own experiences or wisdom, possibly drawing different conclusions which may be equally valid.

The camera work in the film is superb: the blend of static shots and skillful use of hand-held, unconventional angles and some truly unique visuals, such as hundreds of poisonous sea-snakes washing up on the beach which is full of children playing in the water and digging in the sand. It's a pity then, that we only got to see the film in DigiBeta. I presume it's because it was acquired for the festival at short notice, but I'd happily see the film again if a 35mm print was available. Maybe MIFF will pick it up - it or Melbourne Cinémathèque would be perfect platforms for a film of this calibre.

While the film could be seen as boring to a conventional audience (not a real lot happens on the surface), the dramatic drive comes from the intersection of the family and the couple, involving a deception which we are aware of but the protagonists aren't. It's pure visual poetry and more. And, for what it's worth, Rocio Garcia mentioned that this is the first film at La Mirada from Costa Rica. It's also the only film from Costa Rica I've ever seen. Paz Fábrega - keep your eye out for that name.

Léon: The Professional
Released here as just The Professional, I enjoyed this film when it was first released and was surprised to recognise one of my favourite American actresses, the one and only Natalie Portman, as a teenager in her first film role. It adds a whole other level of appreciation. Of course the film is pure fantasy - a girl whose entire family is murdered seeks refuge with her hitman neighbour and conspires to avenge the killers, lead by a corrupt cop.

I have immense respect for Gary Oldman, especially after his directorial debut, Nil by Mouth (1997). His rendition of a corrupt cop is funny to watch but perhaps too whacky. The characterisation is presumably a Besson trait, considering the wholesale whackiness we see in his next film, The Fifth Element (1997). Yet somehow the film is compelling.

Set in New York City, it looks like an American film, but two things give away its European origins. First is Besson regular, Jean Reno in the title role, who's at his prime, both visually and performance-wise. And secondly the story, way too edgy for a mainstream film from an American director - a teenage girl falling in love with a man four times her age. While I'm not the target audience for a film like this, when I want a bit of blockbuster-style escapism, this is the type of film I like to see.

Big Fish
I first saw this film on New Year's day 2004 in New York and it remained one of my favourite films of that year. I think it demonstrates that Tim Burton is a fabulous story-teller, particularly in making the mundane fantastical. The film is a story within a story within a story, with a father-son conflict being the catalyst to unravelling what is truth and what is imaginary.

Charming is usually a code word film reviewers use to describe a film I wouldn't want to see. In this case, however, it's totally appropriate in a positive way. There's a heavy use of sentiment that just seems to work. The film doesn't affect as strongly on second viewing for me - perhaps it was the joy of surprise on the first viewing, or maybe my taste has changed. I'm inclined to think it's more the former.

Still, the bizarre array of characters who appear in both fantasy and 'real' variations are a joy to behold and Burton makes good use of them. This story is perfect material for him, with his ability to turn the normal into a twisted fairy tale (though his recent fairy tale doesn't seem to have made such a good transition). Burton makes fairy tales for adults, but Big Fish is a better children's fairy tale than the vast majority of films made specifically for children, largely because children's films mostly underestimate a child's capacity for understanding.

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 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

MIFF Day 4

Another three films were today viewed by the Melbourne Film Blogger today and again it was an excellent range of world cinema. The observant may have noticed that my previous MIFF reviews have been posted in the wee hours of the morning. Sleep deprivation has prevented me from seeing The Bubble tonight, and with the other screening clashing with my booking for Inland Empire, I'm going to miss it at MIFF. I've heard good things about it so hopefully it will get a cinema release in the future.

I also got to meet in person two fellow bloggers today, Mathieu Ravier from Last Night With Riviera (my favourite Australian film blog) - we saw The Mourning Forest together - and Richard Watts from Man About Town, while he was chatting to the director of Savage Grace, Tom Kalin (who I also exchanged words with), at the ACMI lounge.

The Mourning Forest (Mogari no mori, Naomi Kawase, Japan, 2007)
I found The Mourning Forest a poetic and hauntingly beautiful meditation on death, old age, sadness and letting go. I haven't actively sought films that fit into the 'contemplative cinema' category at MIFF, but this is one of several I've seen so far.

The film is effectively a two-hander: Shigeki, an elderly and energetic resident of a retirement home, and Machiko, a young and inexperienced caregiver. The film focuses on their interactions and what happens when Machiko takes Shigeki for a drive on his birthday. While other characters assume fleeting roles, there is a recurring theme of death and mourning, a point that is reinforced by both the title and on-screen comments at film's end. While this may sound morbid, it is anything but.

The cinematography is stunning, capturing the beauty of wind-swept fields, overhead shots of finely-trimmed symmetrical arrays of hedges, and mountain forest scenery. There are long takes where nothing of much significance seems to transpire and yet the film remains completely engaging. The human drama is depicted as inexplicably linked to nature, a poetic theme that Japanese cinema sometimes conveys so effectively. This is one of ten or so films that Richard Moore has brought to MIFF straight from Cannes (it won this year's Grand Prix) and I highly recommend it.

The Mourning Forest screened as part of MIFF's Neighbourhood Watch. It screens again on Sunday 12 August at 1pm at the Forum Theatre.

Dry Season (Daratt, Mahamat-Saleh Haroun, Chad/France/Belgium/Austria, 2006)
Mahamat-Saleh Haroun's story is remarkable in it's starkness of setting - the desert of Chad - and in the manner in which it unfolds. Like the previous film reviewed (The Mourning Forest), this is a two-hander in which there is very little dialogue - one can't talk and the other won't. This creates an almost surreal element to the film, where hatred seethes through silent glares.

When the Chad Commission for Truth and Justice grants amnesty to some 200 war criminals, the elderly Gumar Abatcha gives his dead son's pistol to his orphaned grandson Atim and dispatches him to kill the murderer of Atim's father. Living far away, Nassara is a dangerous man who now ekes out a living as a baker, trying to forget his past. When Atim finds him, he insinuates himself into Nassara's life with the intent of exacting revenge. Dry Season would make an excellent companion film to Death and the Maiden (1994), Roman Polanski's thrilling film version of a play about political repression and revenge in Central America.

At the risk of sounding repetitive, I find it unfortunate that we have to wait for festivals to see films like this. It depicts a culture we know virtually nothing about, is visually stunning and was thoroughly engaging. Another excellent film.

Dry Season won five awards at the 2006 Venice Film Festival and screened as part of MIFF's Africa! Africa! It screens again on Monday 6 August at 5pm at the Regent Theatre.

Beaufort (Joseph Cedar, Israel, 2007)
I'm not a fan of the war genre, but Beaufort plays out more as a psychological thriller, and I find it hard to fault. There was an amazing blend of naturalism, stylistic devices, humour, touching human drama and suspense - at one time I jumped in my seat like I never have before.

The camera movements and cinematography are excellent and reinforce a sense of claustrophobia as a group of Israeli soldiers keep guard at an historic fort within southern Lebanon, but are virtually under seige by Hezbollah forces. Character development is also excellent with much authenticity. The film focuses on the idiosyncrasies of various characters and how they interact with each other under the circumstances. Respect for the commanding officer is sometimes lacking, resulting in a lack of discipline and friction at a difficult time.

I count this film as one of my favourite films in the genre, kind of a cross between Stanley Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket and Sam Mendes' Jarhead, and as good as either of these. Like these two films, there is an understated political critique in how young men are pawns in the games played by those who live comfortably aware from the field of battle and death. Whether you like war films or not, this is must-see cinema.

Beaufort won the Silver Bear Award at this year’s Berlin Film Festival and screened as part of MIFF's Stars of David. It screens again on Saturday 11 August at 7pm at the Forum Theatre.

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

MIFF Day 3

Day 3 of the festival and three more screenings attended. My research has paid off - so far no duds.

The Monastery (Pernille Rose Grønkjaer, Denmark, 2006)
Mr. Jørgen Laursen Vig decided towards the end of his life that the somewhat delapidated castle he’d owned for forty years in the Danish countryside could be best put to use as a Russian Orthodox monastery. He contacted the Patriarchate in Moscow, who sent a delegation to investigate. The Monastery documents the arrival of the delegation (of two nuns, a novice and the van driver) and subsequent discussions and negotiations between various parties.

At one stage, the negotiations appear to be at a stalemate as the delegation returns to Moscow, and no word is heard for many months. Mr. Vig appears to be at least partly motivated by self-interest (he wants pilgrims to stay and maintain the building), and his demands are sometimes met with amusement by the Russians.

The most captivating aspect of the film is Vig himself and his many idiosyncrasies. Not only does he look like someone from another century, but he is stuck in his ways and he admits it. He doesn’t like the nuns and mentions he doesn’t get on well with people. He has only been fond of one person in his life and he’s long dead – his father. Vig didn’t relate particularly well with his mother, which he attributes to her nose. Vig has a thing about noses. And ears, too!

The Monastery won the The FIPRESCI Award for Best Documentary at The Sydney Film Festival. It’s not an insightful documentary, but it’s what you might call a human interest film and is entertaining.

The Monastery screened as part of MIFF's Documentaries. It screens again on Sun 31 July at 11am at the Regent Theatre. Official website.

Still Life (Sanxia haoren, Jia Zhang-Ke, China/Hong Kong, 2006)
Ancient towns have been submerged along the Yangtse River in China as part of the Three Gorges Dam project. Jia Zhang-Ke has created a contemplative and compassionate human drama set in the region, depicting two separate protagonists attempting to locate missing ones who lived in areas now underwater.

I'm not a great fan of high definition digital video photography, but this sublime film takes advantage of the benefits of the technology while avoiding most of the pitfalls. I was seriously sleep-deprived while watching the film and never got close to nodding off, even though there are very long takes where little seems to happen. Yet in the long takes, there are many passing details, the beautiful movements of the camera taking in rich and authentic details of people, situations, implements, household paraphernalia and gorgeous sweeping vistas. The latter appeared to be enhanced using filters, which seemed to compensate for the loss of aesthetics that comes from not shooting on 35mm film. This film was visually beautiful, though that really only served what was an extremely well-made film.

As a fan of world cinema, I found the attention to detail fascinating. The director seems to be sharing the idiosyncrasies of the struggling local culture, customs and demeanour with a real sense of compassion. I found it poetic, uplifting and moving. Paraphrasing MIFF executive director Richard Moore who quoted the director (and who was in attendance as a guest of the festival) in introducing the film: "I originally wanted to make films that would change the world... I now realise this is not possible, and I just wish to make films that make people sigh." It worked with me.

The session I attended sold out. Still Life sscreened as part of MIFF's Neighbourhood Watch. It screens again on Tue 7 August at 7pm at the Regent Theatre.

Savage Grace (Tom Kalin, Spain/USA, 2007)
Having seen quite a few films produced by Christine Vachon, I recognised a similar aesthetic in this film. Vachon's films often portray unconventional sexuality or other challenging social themes, but in a stylised way that is more accessible to wider audiences than grittier arthouse films. This film would make a terrific companion piece to Christophe Honoré's Ma mère, as it tackles similarly challenging themes, though it is based on a true story and is much more digestible for audiences. The parallels between these stories are remarkable.

Julianne Moore is an actress I admire and takes top billing. Her performance was as good as usual, portraying Barbara Daly Baekeland, wife of the Bakelite heir. Eddie Redmayne's portrayal of her homosexual son was for me the stand-out performance. The film is set in various countries - the US, France, Spain and England - and the visuals are excellent. It takes a while to get a handle on where the film wants to take us, but it culminates in a chilling end. Worth seeing for the brave risks it takes and succeeds in delivering.

The screening I attended was introduced by the director, Tom Kalin, who mentioned this was only the third ever screening of the film. Savage Grace screened as part of MIFF's Forbidden Pleasures. It screens again on Sun 12 August at 3pm at the Forum Theatre.

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

MIFF Day 2

Day 2 of MIFF, and the first 'real' day of screenings. I managed three films, which is about as much as I want to see in a day (I'm concerned about film-fatigue). Each of the three films was very different to the other, and I enjoyed them all.

Tuya's Marriage (Tuya de hun shi, Wang Quan'an, China, 2006)
This is an exotic film that recalls other indigenous Mongolian tales by Byambasuren Davaa such as The Story of the Weeping Camel (2003) or The Cave of the Yellow Dog (2005). It also has much in common with the Tibetan film Himalaya (1999) and rural Iranian cinema. The story, like that in each of these other films, is very simple - a woman's husband is incapacitated and she seeks a new man who will support the old.

The cinematography is beautiful with the harshness of the inner Mongolian landscape captured aesthetically. Dialogue is sparse, and the film is very observational, documenting a way of life that is gradually receding into the past. The herding and riding of animals, the digging of wells, the visits from potential suitors and other aspects of rural life are nicely captured, and contrast against the oncoming tide of modernity.

Thematically, the film has more in common with Breaking the Waves (1996), my favourite Lars von Trier film. There is both humour and heartbreak as the story unfolds. I didn't find the film quite as effective as Weeping Camel but a nice bit of cultural diversity that's worth seeing to break up some of the more challenging films I'm planning to see at MIFF.

Tuya's Marriage screened as part of MIFF's World Stories. It screens again on Sunday 29 July at 3.10pm at the Forum Theatre.

Breath (Soom, Kim Ki-duk, South Korea, 2007)
This is the third film I have seen by Kim Ki-duk. Each one has been very different to the other, and I have loved them all. Address Unknown was bleak and emotionally challenging, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter… and Spring was beautifully poetic, while Breath is hard to describe. It has aspects of the earlier films - it's visually poetic and bleak - but it's very different to both most notably for its surreal/absurdist devices combined with very black humour (slightly reminiscent of some of the work of Raúl Ruiz).

Sparse dialogue makes for great intrigue as we attempt to make sense of the two main protagonists and what they have in common. One, a man on death row, the other a suburban mother who follows news of his exploits on the TV. To discuss how the story unfolds is to spoil the film if you haven't watched it. However, the story is so elusive, that even with the details, much remains unexplained, adding to the mystique of the film. The prisoner does not speak during the film and the mother does not speak to her family; she is on screen for about twenty minutes before we hear a word uttered from her mouth.

There is a really competent and confident film-maker at work in Kim Ki-duk, and he's not afraid to experiment. Beautifully photographed in winter, the use of steel/blue tones indoors accentuates the sense of cold and contrasts some of the surreal aspects. The film is contemplative, giving one ample opportunity to appreciate the superb visual aesthetics and make sense of the narrative. I enjoyed this film immensely, and highly recommend it.

Breath screened as part of MIFF's Neighbourhood Watch. It screens again on Sunday 12 August at 11am at the Forum Theatre.

Shotgun Stories (Jeff Nichols, USA, 2007)
This is a chilling film made with minimal resources that grabs you by the jugular and doesn't let go - a family tragedy that reeks of Shakespeare. A father has died leaving two sets of sons behind (by different mothers). The older sons were abandoned when young and when they turn up at the funeral held by the younger sons, old hostilities surface. Much of the narrative unfolds without explicit explanation, and often with minimal dialogue. We get into the minds of the various protagonists largely by their actions.

Set in the cotton-growing region of Arkansas, it gives a view of Americans struggling in semi-rural life. The film cast is mostly with unknown actors and this is a strength that adds a level of realism to a film. While there is a sense of dreaded inevitability throughout, there is plenty of room for the unexpected, but not in a contrived Hollywood manner. The film is both very well written and impeccably directed. Remarkably, this is a directorial debut by Jeff Nichols who also wrote and produced the film. He is definitely a talent to watch.

As a slight negative, I don't know if it was the film or the venue (the RMIT Capitol theatre), but the visuals and sound didn't seem quite up to scratch. This bothered me slightly at the start, but once the story got into gear (pretty early in the piece), it was barely noticeable. I found the music enjoyable.

Shotgun Stories screened as part of MIFF's International Panorama. It screens again on Monday 6 August at 7pm at the Regent Theatre. Official website.

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

La belle noiseuse

La belle noiseuse (Jacques Rivette, 1991)
La belle noiseuse, the final film of the Jacques Rivette mini-season at Melbourne Cinémathèque screened last night at ACMI. Of the several films shown over the last three weeks, this was my clear favourite. The contemplative nature of the narrative - an exploration of an acclaimed artist in decline, his subject and their relationships with their significant others - is nothing short of sublime. Emmanuelle Béart quietly smoulders on screen as Marianne and Michel Piccoli brilliantly portrays artist Edouard Frenhofer who appears to be moulded as a Rivette surrogate (other than being heavier-set, he even looks somewhat similar).

At four hours long, this is the longest film I have ever sat through - and without a toilet break! After an hour or so, I wondered how this could maintain interest in an audience for another three hours, yet with an hour to go, it got more and more engaging. That final hour was truly rewarding. Up until that point, the narrative had been relatively straight-forward (at least for a Rivette film). Then it adopted the elusiveness that I have been describing in my summation of the other films screening at Cinémathèque. Critical pieces of information are glaringly and teasingly kept out of our sight. The ambiguity is absolutely effective in arousing a sense of wonder and mystery.

Bernard Dufour is credited as the artist who painted the artwork, though the film was cleverly edited to make it appear that Piccoli was indeed the artist. At times we saw Piccoli painting or sketching but then the closeups did not reveal the artist's face. There were long takes where we got to see paintings created in real-time before our eyes. That was fascinating, and reminded me of the brilliance of Ed Harris' portrayal of artist Jackson Pollock (in Pollock) in which he replicated the artist's works on camera in similar long takes. In Harris' case, he did the artwork himself without a stand-in.

Béart appears nude for much of her screen time, though the nudity is neither gratuitous nor erotic. There is a whole spectrum of nuanced emotions she depicts as Marianne evolves through the process of modelling for Frenhofer. Her acting was of a quality that reminds me of that other great French actress that I've posted about recently, Isabelle Huppert. Towards the end, she has subtly lost some of her inhibition as she moves around the studio without covering up. I liked the way this was done without being spelt out to the audience. And I also loved that Béart is not a classic beauty in the film - many bodily imperfections are evident, which adds much to the verisimilitude.

The rural residence Frenhofer and his wife Liz (played by Jane Birkin) live in is almost another character in the film. Its antiquity and decay are beautiful, with black and white tiled floors like the Red Room in Twin Peaks. The vastness and labyrinthine nature of the buildings adds to constructing a unique atmosphere that complements the development of friction between various protagonists. Incidentally, the building facade resembles the fantasy house in Céline and Julie Go Boating.

The film has various unexpected moments, including the development of Liz's character. She lived much of her life in deferment to her illustrious husband, but finds a quiet will at the end that challenges the status quo. Rivette is a director who portrays women in truly interesting and non-stereotypical but believable roles. I don't think he has received the recognition he deserves.

The documentary Jacques Rivette - The Night Watchman that screened a few weeks ago was helpful for me to get an insight into this curious and elusive film-maker. La Belle Noiseuse is based on a Balzac novella called Le chef-d'oeuvre inconnu. I expect many people who have seen this film watched it on DVD. It was a delight to get the opportunity to see it on the big screen, and was a great way to end the Rivette season.

Previous Rivette posts:
Jacques Rivette - The Night Watchman
Paris Belongs to Us / Duelle
Le coup du berger / Céline and Julie Go Boating

Selected Senses of Cinema articles about Jacques Rivette:
Jacques Rivette
Jacques Rivette - the Night Watchman
Paris Belongs To Us
Duelle
Céline and Julie Go Boating
La Belle Noiseuse

Other links: Wikipedia / IMDB

The Week in Review

While I saw seven films this week, it seemed much less. I've had a week off between jobs and could easily have seen several others. The reality is that I couldn't be bothered seeing films that look mediocre. Nothing really stood out this week, except for the astonishing Made in Britain, but all the others were interesting in their own way.

FILMS:

• El camino de los ingleses (Summer Rain, Antonio Banderas, 2006)
  
• Death of a President (Gabriel Range, 2006)
• Noise (Matthew Saville, 2007)
• Seishun zankoku monogatari (Naked Youth, Nagisa Oshima, 1960)
  
• Die Große Stille (Into Great Silence, Philip Gröning, 2005)
  
• Romulus, My Father (Richard Roxburgh, 2007)
  
• Made in Britain (Alan Clarke, 1982)
  

BOOKS I'M READING:

• Almodóvar on Almodóvar (Revised edition, 2006, Frédéric Strauss)

Death of a President
While not a remarkable film, Death of a President is perhaps a not insignificant film. It is a good companion piece to another piece of post-9/11 fiction, United 93. United 93 has had much better distribution in Australia, and may partly be due to its superior success in the US, where it pulls at American patriotism.

Death of a President is an exploration of ideas. Of course, superficially it is about the demise of George W. Bush, something that controversially has perverse appeal to many. But beyond that, if such an event were to occur, what would happen? What happens when there is any major political catastrophe? What happened after 9/11? By exploring a fictional scenario, director Gabriel Range is really showing up how many lies we have been fed and swallowed since 9/11 in particular. How the public's thirst for simple answers and the media's willingness to provide them leads to a subversion of the truth.

Naked Youth
Oshima is a prolific director, and this was my first experience of his work which was his third feature film. From my limited perspective, it is quite a confrontational and contentious film for its time. Made in the year of my birth, it reminded me of my childhood and how in the '60s and '70s we still lived in the shadow of WWII which was clearly etched in the public psyche. How much more so this must have (and perhaps still is) true for Japan post-Hiroshima.

The film depicts the radicalisation of Japan's youth, following in the footsteps of the West, with rock-and-roll music, sex, intoxication and abandon. As a parent of teenage children, I felt there was an authentic gritty reality to the story, still relevant, which Oshima clearly intended to challenge audience sensibilities. It was not an enjoyable film per se, but it was well done and I look forward to seeing more of Oshima's work. As a point of interest, an alternative title of the film is A Story of the Cruelties of Youth.

Into Great Silence
What a strange film to get arthouse distribution. It's the type of film that would normally only be seen at a film festival or with a limited season at ACMI. It's a little like a cross between Old Joy (which I loved) and Pine Flat (which I hated). At 164 minutes in length, and with scant dialogue, this is not for the average film-goer.

The cinematography is stunning, set in a remote mountain monastery of the Carthusian Order in France. The beauty of the surroundings is intertwined with the architectural beauty of these massive buildings. We see the monks quietly going about their daily activities, usually in silence, but with occasional conversation or chants. It's not the kind of film I usually go to the cinema to see, but is worthwhile for those with patience, with an interest in contemplative cinema, experimental cinema or with three hours to kill.

Romulus, My Father
This film, Richard Roxburgh's first as director, was surprisingly good. Surprising, because the shorts gave the impression it was going to be another stereotypical, over-acted, mediocre Australian film. In actuality, it is understated and skillfully directed by Roxburgh, and uses its cast to excellent effect. Eric Bana (Chopper) as Romulus Gaita and Franka Potente (Run Lola Run) as his estranged wife Christina were very authentic, as were the Romanian brothers, played by Marton Csokas and Russell Dykstra. The real star was the young actor Kodi Smit-McPhee who portrayed the ten year old Raimond Gaita. The real life Gaita's memoirs (of the same title) are the basis of the film, and adapted for the screen by Nick Drake.

The cinematography was both beautiful but understated, the music was non-invasive and appropriate. The details and period reproduction were excellent and the film showed the kind of nuance and restraint that Noise would have greatly benefited from. The film quietly meanders and takes its time, not being overly profound but perhaps a little slow at the end when it could have wound up a bit sooner. Richard Roxburgh is a talent to watch out for. An intelligent, well-measured, subtle and very enjoyable film with a distinct Australian flavour.

Made in Britain
This has only one screening as part of ACMI's Focus on Punk running to Sunday May 20. This is Alan Clarke's high voltage edge-of-your-seat stark film that catapulted the very talented Tim Roth into the limelight. It inspired a number of similar films such as Romper Stomper (which similarly catapulted Russell Crowe's career) and American History X. It even recalls Robert De Niro's portrayal of Travis Bickle in Scorsese's Taxi Driver.

Made for television, this caused controversy when released and according to the curator of the Focus on Punk, was debated in British parliament. Clarke is clearly holding a mirror up to society, and it ain't pretty. Trevor is a skinhead filled with hatred and from start to finish, his path is clear. He's going nowhere, fast.

The black humour is blacker than black, and the menace of Trevor reminds me of the recent depiction of Hannibal Lektor by Brian Cox in Manhunter. The guy is irredeemable. The camera shots were stunning, following Trevor around in first-person view. The long takes were very impressive. This is easily the best telemovie I have ever seen, and a fantastic end to the week's viewing. This is must-see stuff for fans of social realism.

Old Joy release date

In case you haven't heard, Old Joy has a Melbourne release date of May 3, running exclusively at the Nova Cinema. Old Joy is distributed by Accent Film Entertainment and had a short run at the Chauvel Cinema in Sydney from March 15.

As described in my review of Old Joy, it's not for the average film-goer. It is a slow-moving 'contemplative' film that, like Half Nelson, is a lament for the loss of liberalism under the current conservative government in the US. I highly recommend it (4.5 stars). Quiet, ambiguous films like this (think Gus Van Sant's Gerry) usually only get a small run (if they get a release at all), and is the type of film one goes to the Melbourne International Film Festival to see. In the interests of film diversity, it behooves cinephiles to support films like this. Don't just wait for film festivals, let's support good films all year round!

SYNOPSIS (from Accent Film Entertainment)
OLD JOY is the story of two old friends, Kurt (Will Oldham) and Mark (Daniel London), who reunite for a weekend camping trip in the Cascade mountain range east of Portland, Oregon. For Mark, the weekend outing offers a respite from the pressure of his imminent fatherhood; for Kurt, it is part of a long series of carefree adventures. As the hours progress and the landscape evolves, the twin seekers move through a range of subtle emotions, enacting a pilgrimage of mutual confusion, sudden insight, and spiritual battle. When they arrive at their final destination, a hot spring in an old growth forest, they must either confront the divergent paths they have taken, or somehow transcend their growing tensions.

French Film Festival 3

The Alliance Française French Film Festival finishes today, and last night I saw my last screening for the festival, Les amitiés maléfiques (Poison Friends). This stunning film was a fantastic way to end the festival, and came a very close second to my favourite of the festival, Nue Propriété (Private Property).

I almost feel a little guilty for my opening criticism of the festival. Yes, there's lots of light entertainment to be had, but there's definitely been some solid gems available for those that looked (or stumbled by chance). My other must-see picks of the festival are The Right of the Weakest and Premonition. OSS 117: Cairo - Nest of Spies is also a rare good comedy.

As I posted in The Week in Review, I got to see everything I wanted to, except for Coeurs (Private Fears in Public Places)

Nue Propriété (Private Property, Joachim Lafosse, 2006)
What is it with the Belgians? They sure are capable of producing gritty social dramas: the Dardennes’ L’enfant (The Child), Lucas Belvaux’s The Right of the Weakest, and now Joachim Lafosse’s Private Property.

Jérémie Renier played the father blindly unaware of the consequences of his actions in L’enfant. In Private Property, a quietly searing social drama set in regional Belgium, he and real-life brother Yannick play screen brothers Thierry and François. Isabelle Huppert plays single mother to the grown up boys still living at home.

Unemployed, François is quiet and gentle while Thierry works in town and is volatile and sometimes argumentative. The dynamics between boys, mother and father (played by Patrick Descamps, who also appeared as the invalid in The Right of the Weakest) are explored in the context of property laws as they pertain to divorcees – the parents separated some fifteen years earlier. It appears that in law, the house belongs to the boys, and the mother is entitled to live there. However, she wants to sell up and start a new life elsewhere. This leads to conflict, involving the father, and through it, the exploration of the nature of existing and broken relationships, and old resentments. All the roles were portrayed convincingly.

I found the film riveting, compelling and (dare I say it)... profound. As usual, Huppert plays a terrifically nuanced role and she was used to maximum but understated effect without hogging the limelight. She was pulled out of frame at times, particularly towards the end, when the boys 'took over'. The film reeked of emotional honesty and was aptly contemplative.

I loved the lack of music. When the opening credits appeared first to silence, then to background noise – reminiscent of Iranian cinema like the films of Kiarostami or Panahi – it was evident that this was going to be a serious film. The short piece of music at the end was quite chilling, accentuating the previous lack of music and then again silence during the closing credits.

The film depicted moral complexity with skill and avoided stereotypes. The director takes no sides and the audience can make their own judgements. The most quietly profound line was left to the father at the end. Thierry, angry and grieving, explodes: “Fucking bitch!” he yells at his mother. “You let her screw you!” he yells at his father. “Your mother’s not a bitch”, says the father firmly but matter-of-fact, “we just tried and it didn’t work out. That’s all.”

The film is full of beautifully quiet moments and riddled with ambiguity, leaving ample opportunity to ruminate on meanings. There are times of simmering silence and explosive moments that are emotionally compelling. This is a family, not so much in crisis, but trying to deal with real life difficulties. Well-cast, brilliantly written and directed, from the opening credits to the haunting and symbolic images at the end, it reeks quality cinema.

OSS 117 Le Caire nid d'espions (OSS 117: Cairo - Nest of Spies, Michel Hazanavicius, 2006)
Having previously bagged contemporary French comedy*, I'm having to eat my words with this one (which is a good thing). On Matt Riviera's recommendation, I saw and thoroughly enjoyed it. Basically it's a parody of James Bond 007, and largely resembles the early incarnation with Sean Connery, but goofed up slightly like Don Adams' Maxwell Smart in TV's Get Smart.

This film was virtually non-stop laughs and Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath, alias agent OSS 117 (played by Jean Dujardin) was a great combination of Connery-like debonair, competency, sexiness, yet at times clumsy and self-absorbed.

It was a clever start - the opening credits with Gaumont (the production company) appeared to be straight out of the 1950's in black and white (I presume it was taken from stock film). The story starts with a French resistance fighter (apparently how OSS 117 started out) stealing blueprints from the Nazis during the closing stages of World War II.

The remaining film is set in 1955 and the period reproduction - not of the time, but of early Bond films set around the time - is terrific. I found various flashbacks by characters, with muted pastel tones, to be especially effective visually. The array of period vehicles in use, such as cars and a Lambretta scooter added a nice touch. Of course, there is a clever and stylised reproduction of political incorrectness of the time.

Unlike the Bond franchise, which has become a fairly stale action-film franchise, overly dependent on CGI, OSS 117 maintains interest with little action or special effects. It's more like the earlier Bond (or even Hitchcock) films, and perhaps the most sophisticated piece of surveillance equipment used is a telephone. While the laughs were mostly non-stop, the film could perhaps have been edited by dropping five or ten minutes to keep the action a bit tighter. But that's only a small criticism others may not agree with.

This film has been picked up for distribution and the word is that it will go straight to DVD, probably later in the year. It was definitely worth seeing on the big screen.

* I acknowledge the possibility that there may be a body of contemporary smart French comedy being made, that doesn't make it to Australia. Generally, I find what is distributed here to be fairly inane, inoffensive, light, feel-good, charming and what could usually be described using other such mediocre superlatives.

L’ivresse du pouvoir (A Comedy of Power, Claude Chabrol, 2006)
Isabelle Huppert, with her usual nuanced and cold nature, was perfect for the role of magistrate, Jeanne Charmant-Killman, investigating a corporate corruption case - a company has been paying illegal commissions. Sounds much like the AWB scandal, which as far as I can tell, no heads have rolled yet.

The film investigates Jeanne's character and how she 'squeezes' the heads she's chasing to get them to comply. Very realistic, and reminds me of the strategy of the Stasi as described and depicted in The Lives of Others. The film also looks at her personal life, and how her work adversely affects her relationships.

Chabrol is a veteran film-maker - he's made some 60 or so films since his debut in 1958 - and this is the first of his I've seen. So I can't compare it to any of his vast body of work. There's no doubt when watching this film that it's well made. All the technical aspects are strong: directing, acting, lighting, etc.

Ultimately, the film didn't hold much interest for me, because the story itself didn't really engage me. It seems too preoccupied with the process of obtaining compliance and convictions from defendents. The title is interesting; it certainly has nothing to do with comedy. Apparently the original title refers to "drunk on power", which could equally refer to the corporate heads being pursued, or to Jeanne herself.

Mauvaise foi (Bad Faith, Roschdy Zem, 2006)
Cécile de France seems ubiquitous at this year's festival, appearing in no fewer than three films. I haven't seen The Singer at the festival in which she stars opposite Gérard Depardieu, but wasn't particulary impressed with her role in Orchestra Seats. In this film she plays a Jewish woman and Roschdy (who both stars and directs) plays a Muslim man in what is basically a meet the parents drama.

It's not a heavy-weight film, but is played serious. Aimed at a mainstream audience, it uses the usual devices like pop soundtrack (including Elvis' Suspicious Minds), cutesy-pie female protagonist and some predictable plot stereotypes. Nonetheless, it's enjoyable enough for the casual film-goer out for a light evening's entertainment.

Les amitiés maléfiques (Poison Friends, Emmanuel Bourdieu, 2006)
Poison Friends is a thought-provoking film. It is about friendship, intellect, ego, manipulation, power, deception and lies. And it is all too believable, to the extent that my heart rate took an hour or more to settle after it finished - it was so affecting. The film is considered drama, but its effect was more like a thriller.

It took a while to warm to the film – to understand the direction it was taking and who the different characters were. I still feel a little confused about some of the opening narrative, and the film almost demands a repeat viewing.

André Morney is confident, highly intelligent and has the respect of lecturers and co-students alike. He is also a sociopath. The narrative investigates various intellectual ideas as the characters go through the process of studying writing at university. Those with a tertiary education will have some appreciation of the personality types and the type of dialogue depicted in various conversations.

The writing of the film is very strong and original, and directed with much skill. The actors all played their parts effectively. The cinematography was generally good, though I sometimes found the night scenes a little dark (not uncommon with this type of film). Highly recommended.


The end of a festival is both relief and lament. It's pretty intense trying to fit it in all the films one wishes to see, what to speak of writing about them as well (I'm pretty run-down right now). The French Film Festival is my favourite festival other than MIFF, and French social drama is possibly my favourite genre (not that I generally think of film in terms of genre). I just love the way the French portray social realism with such conviction. So it's sad to see the festival end. That's all for this year, and I keenly await next year's festival. Thanks again to Matt from Last Night at Riviera for his recommendations.

Previous posts: French Film Festival 1 & 2
See also: Last Night at Riviera 1, 2, 3 & 4