The Week in Review - 5/7/09

Circumstances conspired to enable me to see more films than usual this week. First, there's been an abundance of films worth seeing: Melbourne Cinémathèque, of course, but also ACMI's Focus on Girls 24/7 and advance screenings that I didn't want to miss. Also, it's school holidays, which means I have a two-week break from my Alliance Française classes and on top of that, with conflict in the home, what better to avoid stress than sit in a dark cinema? Don't worry, it's a long story. A very long story.

FILMS:

• Coco avant Chanel (Anne Fontaine, France, 2009)
• Cztery noce z Anna (Four Nights With Anna, Jerzy Skolimowski, Poland/France, 2008)
• Deep End (Jerzy Skolimowski, UK/West Germany, 1971)
• Winged Creatures + Q&A (Rowan Woods, USA, 2008)
• Cléo de 5 à 7 (Cleo From 5 to 7, Agnès Varda, France/Italy, 1962)
• Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (Jeanne Dielman, Chantal Akerman, Belgium/France, 1975)
• Balibo (Robert Connolly, Australia, 2009)
• Wanda (Barbara Loden, Barbara Loden, USA, 1970)
  

Coco avant Chanel
I'm loathe to cricitice a film like this. It's like many I see that are well-made, technically proficient and yet do nothing for me. I'm simply not part of the more mainstream target audience that will revel in the drama, the period and the background to this iconic character. I don't find that her life is that interesting and that she never married is no great accomplishment.

Four Nights With Anna
This film does so well what I love about Eastern European cinema: it looks absolutely beautiful (in a decaying sort of way - check out my profile, urban decay is one of my interests) and its minimalist story-telling leaves one guessing. The film does have Hitchcockian elements and you feel that the director is messing with your expectations. This is my first experience of Skolimowski, so I'm interested to see the other Cinémathèque screenings to get a sense of what he's about.

Deep End
Having discussed this elsewhere, I don't really feel like regurgitating much of this. I liked it, it's historically fascinating, a kind of document of its time. As I was discussing with someone last night, it seemed to do for 1970s London (by a Pole) what Wake in Fright did for outback Australia (by a Canadian). Both films seem very frank and truthful analyses of their respective settings by so-called outsiders.

Winged Creatures
I don't care what Rowan Woods produces; anyone that can make a The Boys has won my respect. For me, the uncompromising brilliance and edge-of-your-seat suburban terror of that film indicates unusual talent. I took the opportunity of telling him after the Q&A that The Boys is a film that he can probably never equal. I know a director is focused on the current and upcoming projects, but the truth has to be said.

It can be easy to fault Winged Creatures and Matt Ravier has done an excellent job of pointing them out, though I don't feel the faults are as fatal as he. During the Q&A, Woods seemed to acknowledge some of the flaws himself, and knew that an ensemble film is inherently difficult.

As much as I would love Rowan Woods to make films like The Boys, I suppose every director wants his or her films to be seen, to make money and to make work for future work. Maybe Woods doesn't see a future in uncompromising bleak social dramas. So what we have now are compromised bleak social dramas.

Winged Creatures is a more ambitious project than his previous endeavour, Little Fish. First, it was made in Los Angeles with a fairly high-profile cast that includes Forest Whitaker, Kate Beckinsale, Dakota Fanning, Jackie Earle Haley, Jennifer Hudson, Guy Pearce, Jeanne Tripplehorn and others. It's visually a nicer film to look at and the themes are also more interesting. So, I feel it's an improvement on Little Fish.

The film is clearly looking for an audience, and compromises have been made to succeed in that direction. As Matt Ravier points out, there is little subtlety and little is left to chance that the audience won't understand the narrative each step of the way. It makes the film accessible to a wider audience but, as with Coco avant Chanel, this is not what I look for in cinema.

I liked the themes the film explores. Various survivors of a random shooting in a diner try to come to terms with their trauma, each in their own way. Dakota is chilling as a born-again Christian and her final transformation is very moving. But her initial transformation is just too over-the-top. I was surprised how gripping the film starts out. Unfortunately, the ensemble structure diffuses the opening dynamics and the film gradually loses momentum.

Cleo From 5 to 7
I found this rivetting. At first, it seemed to have the frivolity (sans the experimental nature) of Daisies, also screening as part of the ACMI Focus on Girls 24/7 and which I saw at Melbourne Cinémathèque a year or two ago as part of the Czech New Wave program. Clèo is a young female singer with a sort of princess bitch syndrome a la Daisies. As she wanders the streets of Paris, with concerns other than the latest hat or shoes (she may have cancer), the film takes on an element that strongly recalles Louis Malle's Le feu follet. Like Malle's film, the protagonist's journey takes us on a walking tour of the back-streets of Paris, but without anywhere near the level of bleakness of Le feu follet's Alain Leroy. Interestingly, these films were made about a year apart (Clèo was made first).

The 5 to 7 refers to two hours in an evening of Clèo's life, depicted in real-time, as she worries about her hospital test results, interacting with various people.

Jeanne Dielman
Is this the film that inspired Van Sant's Gerry? Two very different films, different scenarios and aesthetics, yet strangely parallel. Sure, one is set in mountain and desert regions as two Gerrys try to find their way; the other about a widow/housewife/mother-cum-prostitute who is trying to find her way.

This film is an amazing and confident accomplishment for the young Akerman (she was 25 when this was made). Like Gerry, it demands much of an audience. You must submit to it, to its pace, to its rhythm. You have to get into another mode of experiencing cinema. In Akerman's film, the camera is static virtually the whole time, and the subject is banal beyond belief. We view Jeanne as she cooks, cleans, tidies and receives clients. Takes are long, no detail is left unseen. The story takes place over three days, and each day seems superficially much like the previous.

Yet there's change we can't help noticing. We are not privy to Jeanne's inside world, which is clearly conflicted, but we can deduce this by the slight ripples in her daily rituals. She has decent middle-class standards and yet a pragmatic need to survive financially, which she achieves through prostitution. This film rewards the patient and I was surprised to see only one walk-out during its 200 minute run-time.

Balibo
This is the film that opens MIFF in a couple of week's time and I was lucky to attend a media preview, introduced by the director. I was thinking it was the closing film and I mentioned to someone that it would make a good opening night film, which of course it is - silly me! The buzz coming out of the screening was palpable, with some saying it's not just another good Australian film, but one of the best films of the year. Refer to my comments about Chanel.

I like the film, in fact parts of the film I like a lot. Firstly, Australian films rarely touch political issues, but this is one political issue - a tumour in the nation's psyche - that has festered for way too long and needs to come out into the open. In a sense, the film confirms that which we always knew, or at least suspected. It demands questions, but doesn't necessarily ask them, if you get my drift. It leads us to water but doesn't make us drink, trusting an audience to understand the issues, without ramming them down our throats.

The performances are generally good, especially Oscar Isaac as a young and charismatic José Ramos-Horta (now the president of East Timor). The film has a couple of problems, the main one being coherency. There are different narrative threads, taking place in different time frames and the film's effectiveness is, as I mentioned with Winged Creatures, diffused by the parallel handling of the threads. Despite this, the film manages to rise above the flaws, and present what feels not just worthy, but important. It involves us in events that are historic and relevant, in an authentic way. The film is particularly effective in its bringing the story to a climax; it's very moving without cheap sentimentality.

For a more positive and extensive response to the film, check out Matt Ravier's review.

Wanda
What a remarkable piece of film-making - they don't make 'em like this any more! With grainy 16mm film and an aesthetic that strongly recalls Cassavetes, we just don't see enough of films like this. Barbara Loden directed and played the main role, a raw depiction of a woman with not a lot going for her. Divorced as an irresponsible mother with no regard for her children, she takes up with a thief and finds her situation going into downward spiral. The revelation of characters, in particular the thief, is both clever and funny. There is a truthfulness to the depictions that is chilling and awesome.

Begging more or more begging

I was sitting in Centre Place having lunch with my good friend Matthew and was approached by another beggar. I detect my mind making judgements:

Scrawny, aboriginal woman, maybe 40 or so. Substance abuser, homeless, maybe some mental illness, maybe associated with the substance abuse.

Now, I posted about on this topic recently, which roused a little response. I discussed the thinking behind my usual responses to beggars. Some suggested theirs and I was also criticised for my "naive, middle class and condescending" attitude. Now, I thought the latter comment was quite disingenuous, but nonethess I gave it some thought. I reckon I give a shit a lot more than the average naive, middle-class, condescending person and I do - despite my faults and limitations - give a shit. Did I mention that I give a shit?

So, Matthew had declined the offer to help out this person, and I make no judgements of him one way or the other. Begging is an uncomfortable situation to find oneself in. On the one hand we don't want to be part of someone's problem (and money to purchase substances that may be abused aren't really helping anyone). On the other, we have some degree of compassion and it pains us to see others suffering. What to do?

Once again, I engaged this person. Leanne is her name. I asked her what she wants money for and she said for food. With whatever sincerity I could convey, I said that many people feel uncomfortable giving money, but that I'd be happy to pay for a meal. I suggested she order a meal and tell the cafe person I'd pay for it (they know me). Well, this is the first time someone's taken me up on the offer. Leanne looked all excited and appreciative. I must say that my way of dealing with Leanne was a slightly modified version, which I developed as a result of the discussion from my last post. Leanne actually said she'd really just appreciate a coffee.

A couple of guys were sitting adjacent to Matthew and I (FWIW, we were at the front of "5", a tiny little cafe). They complimented me on my attitude and one of them ended up pulling out the coins for the coffee.

Coincidentally, I was at the Nova cinema in Lygon St. Carlton that night seeing the preview screening of Winged Creatures with a Q&A with Rowan Woods. As I was leaving the cinema, who should approach me but out Leanne asking for some money. I said "Hi, Leanne" and she was surprised. "How did you know my name?" she asked. Now, I was wearing a suit and tie earlier in the day and at this time I was in my motorcycle gear. "I gave you some money for a coffee in Centre Place at lunch-time", I said and a light of recognition flashed across her face. Some other people walked by, she left me and approached them, and I left to go home. Make of that what you will.

More MIFF drip-feed

Being a/the major sponsor of MIFF must give The Age some scoop-rights. Today the Melbourne broadsheet has published some info not yet on the MIFF website, nor emailed out in the festival's Widescreen e-newsletter. Apparently, we're to be treated to some Melbourne punk from the 1970s and 1980s with a retrospective called Punk Becomes Pop: the Australian Post-Punk Underground. According to the article in today's paper, the retrospective:

will feature films, video clips, live concerts and lost Super-8 footage of bands such as the Boys Next Door, Primitive Calculators, the Models, Essendon Airport, Plays With Marionettes and Crime & the City Solution.

Highlights include a digitally restored version of Richard Lowenstein's post-punk classic Dogs in Space, featuring Michael Hutchence in a role based on Sam Sejavka from the band the Ears, fashion designer Alannah Hill and actor Noah Taylor; Lowenstein's documentary on the making of the film, Living on Dog Food; Haydn Keenan's Going Down, which has been described as "Sex and the City for the post-punk set"; and Punkline, about fabled St Kilda venue the Crystal Ballroom.

I haven't been around MIFF for long enough to know if this is a new direction for the festival. For the last couple of years at least, retrospectives have focused on directors rather than themes or actors (MIFF's other previously-announced retro is on Anna Karina). It seems MIFF might be taking a leaf out of ACMI's and Melbourne Cinémathèque's books, who have been doing this for some time.

I have no familiarity whatsover with the Melbourne punk scene. In 1979 I left my home-town for Adelaide which was my base for the following seven years. And during that time, though I travelled widely throughout South and Western Australia, I pretty much lived in a social and cultural time-warp. Do any readers have any opinions about this retrospective? Are these likely to be hidden gems? Trash or treaure?

The full MIFF program will be in The Age on Friday 10 July. As a MIFF member, I'll be getting mine from the program launch on Monday 6 July, so expect some posts announcing some highlights that Monday and Tuesday.

MIFF program is on the way

Not so far from the MIFF offices (and my own), I was sitting at lunch in a city cafe this afternoon when MIFF director Richard Moore by chance sat next to me. I said hi and I asked if he had any scoops I could post on my blog. He said he has the whole MIFF program in his hands, which he could show me, but would then have to kill me. So I pushed it and asked if I could, but that was met with a definite no. D'oh! (I didn't resort to pretty-please, but I'm sure it would have been to no avail).

I'll have to wait another five days for the official festival launch, at which attending MIFF members will receive an advance copy of the program, four days ahead of its publication in The Age.

So, I continued reading the Senses of Cinema article about Jerzy Skolimowski, ahead of tonight's opening of a three week season of his films at Melbourne Cinematheque.

This year marks my third in which I'm taking two weeks off work to attend MIFF pretty much full-time. Like the previous two years, I plan to see around 40 films, an average of 2-3 per day. I know some people cram 80 or more films into the 17 days, but that's not my thing. I struggle to limit the number to 40; there's certainly more than that that I'd like to see. It's always a juggle of times, sacrificing of one film over another and so forth. I'll be posting more about the program after I have one of the suckers in my hot little hands.

Winged Creatures Q&A

The Week in Review - 28/6/09

FILMS:

• En construcción (Work in Progress, José Luis Guerín, Spain, 2001)
• Innisfree (José Luis Guerín, Spain, 1990)
• Bastardy +Q&A (Amiel Courtin-Wilson, Australia, 2008)
• Le renard et l'enfant (The Fox and the Child, Luc Jacquet, France, 2007)
  

DVD:

• T is for Teacher (Rohan Spong, Australia/USA, 2009)
  

SHORT FILMS:

• MIAF - International Program #3
• MIAF - Studio Watch: The Mill

Work in Progress
Quite a fascinating film whose documentation of the demolition of an old neighbourhood is reminiscent of the films of Pedro Costa (though without the same level of bleakness - not a criticism of either director's work). I don't have a lot to say about it other than, like In the City of Sylvia, Guerín demonstrates a photographer's fascination with capturing the soul of a city and its inhabitants.

Innisfree
Guerín's unconventional style is anything but mainstream. This is quite an odd film, an ode to the locations where John Ford shot The Quiet Man. Once again, Guerín is fascinated by location, this time rural Ireland. He certainly is an enigma.

Bastardy
Remarkably, Amiel Courtin-Wilson spent some seven or so years making this film, and in the Q&A session afterwards he explained why. Firstly, there was an issue with money, that came in dribs and drabs. The fact that the subject spent significant periods incarcerated also caused problems.

As I have mentioned previously, I met Jack Charles a few years ago and, having found him a very colourful and gregarious character, was keen to learn more about him. What a journey! As a 10 month old baby, he became a member of the Stolen Generation, and has never known his father. He discovered acting at age 19, set up the first Aboriginal theatre troupe in the 1960s, has been addicted to heroin since 1973, He's subsisted on burglary ("collecting the rent", he called it), has seen the walls of HM Pentridge up close and personal several times and has been homeless for large stretches of his life. There's more - much more - but that's it in a nutshell.

I found it fascinating that Jack sat in the front row (I was two rows directly behind him), with every conceivable shame on full display to him and the audience that filled the large Kino cinema. I was going to ask him during the Q&A how he felt about seeing himself like that, but he addressed it anyway. He said something to the effect that he was inspired to be able to set an example to his own people of what can be achieved, how he had left all this behind him and was now a respected elder of his mob. Since his last release from Deer Park prison, he's gone straight and says there's no going back to that life. I sincerely hope so.

[Pictured: John Safran, Jack Charles and Amiel Courtin-Wilson]

MIAF
From my perspective, animation shorts are a good interlude to serious film-going, which could be interpreted as some sort of snobbery, but that's what it is for me. I saw one of the international programs as well as a curated selection of shorts from The Mill, a London studio that has made many award-winning advertisements (some of which have appeared on Australian TV), music videos and short films. The Mill's work is very impressive and many of the pieces were not obviously animated, using animation to create hyper-reality to various situations.

T is for Teacher
I'm reviewing this ahead of the films screening at the Bayside Film Festival. I liked this a lot, and (with Rhys Graham's Skin) it's screening at 7pm on Thursday 16 July at Palace Brighton Bay, followed by a Q&A with director Rohan Spong. The film documents four transgender individuals as they transition from men to women in their roles as high school teachers in the US. My review is coming soon.

The Fox and the Child
This is a beautiful looking film that merges documentary with fiction. Basically, it takes a glorious rural landscape in France and contrives a little story - almost a fairy tale - about a young girl who befriends a wild fox. I would have preferred seeing the original French version, but the voice-over narration by Kate Winslet is quite OK and obviously makes it more marketable to an English-speaking audience. The story sometimes goes on a bit longer than necessary, but this is a very enjoyable film that is also well-suited for children.

Skolimowski at Cinémathèque

Poetry, Paradox, Politics: The Film of Jerzy Skolimowski
Screening at ACMI, July 1 - 15

The Melbourne Cinémathèque is proud to present, in association with The Consulate General of the Republic of Poland, & the Australian Institute of Polish Affairs, a season of films from one of Poland’s greatest living directors, Jerzy Skolimowski.

Commencing July 1, this season of specially imported 35mm prints provides a provocative sample of Skolimowski’s politically explosive filmmaking trajectory. Skolimowski, who is also a screenwriter, actor and poet, was an accomplished writer by his early twenties. His love of jazz added another dimension to his restless filmmaking style, particularly his penchant for improvisation, and brought him into contact with composer Krzysztof Komeda. Skolimowski has also collaborated with filmmakers of the “Polish School” including Andrej Wajda and Roman Polanski.

Long and tangled threads of irony, absurdity, poetry and fantasy link the deeply political work of Skolimowski, a director whose career spans five decades and who made films in several countries. This season includes his semi-autobiographical Andrej Leszczyc trilogy [Identification Marks: None (Ryopsis) (1964), Walkover (1965) and Skolimowski’s favourite of his own work, Hands Up! (1967/1981)], his stylistically inventive Barrier (1966), key works of his non-Polish career [Deep End (1971), Moonlighting (1982)], as well as the Melbourne premiere of Four Nights With Anna (2008), his return to filmmaking after a 16-year hiatus. Screening as follows:


Wednesday July 1

• 7.00pm Four Nights with Anna (2008)
• 8.40pm Skolimowski early shorts: Oko wykol (The Menacing Eye, 2", 1960), ErotykErotique, 3", 1960), Hamles (Little Hamlet, 9", 1960), Pieniadze albo zycie (Your Money or Your Life, 5", 1961)
• 9.00pm Deep End (1971)
  

Wednesday July 8

• 7.00pm Identification Marks: None (Ryopsis, 1964)
• 8.25pm Walkover (1965)
• 9.55pm Barrier (1966)
  

Wednesday July 15

• 7.00pm Moonlighting (1982)
• 8.50pm Hand

• s Up! (1967/1981)

Link: The Age article by Jake Wilson

MIFF Meet the Programmers

I received the following in my Inbox this afternoon, and I'm in two minds about it.

Dear MIFF member,

This year MIFF is pleased to present our members with an exclusive inner sanctum Festival experience!

MEET THE MIFF PROGRAMMERS

Here is your chance to hear first hand from MIFF’s Executive Director, Richard Moore, and Senior Programmer, Michelle Carey.

• Ever wondered what it’s like to travel the world attending festivals such as Berlin, Cannes, Rotterdam and Toronto?
• How are films selected for MIFF each year?
• What is the selection criteria? What makes a film relevant?
• Want to know what are the must-see films of MIFF 09?
• What part does the Festival play in launching films selected for local theatrical release?
• Does the Festival have a place in fostering and developing Australian filmmakers?
• What is the future for film festivals amid growing entertainment and digital options.

All will be revealed at this special event - MEET THE MIFF PROGRAMMERS.

Richard and Michelle will speak at length with moderator Michael Agar about their personal experience in the arts and specifically the trials, tribulations and thrills of programming Australia’s largest film festival. Members will be able to ask questions from the floor following the presentation.

Now, this is an event that interests me. It presents a great opportunity for MIFF to market itself by opening up itself to its members and demonstrating the value of membership if the event were free. But it's not. It's $10 for a member and $13 for a member's guest.

Please note that this is a ticketed event. See below for details on how to purchase your tickets. Each MIFF member is able to bring along one guest.

I'm a sucker for this sort of event and will probably go, but I think it will further fuel the criticisms of MIFF by the proletariat. You know, they could have probably hosted such an event at their own modest offices, and put it on for free, but they're obviously aiming at a particular demographic by holding it at the Sofitel. Anyway, I'm sure there'll be some sniping, but that'll happen regardless anytime you do anything. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, and everyone wants everything for nothing. Fuck it, yeah I will go. What's ten lousy bucks? Go on, gripe on below; you know you want to. Or any other comments welcome.

The Week in Review - 21/6/09

Winter solstice - I love it! There's a change in energy and from today the days start to get longer. The two-week Guerín season started at Melbourne Cinémathèque and, if you missed this week (a highlight of my year so far), make sure you see the coming screenings on Wednesday.

FILMS:

• Wake in Fright (Ted Kotcheff, Australia/USA, 1971)
  
• En la ciudad de Sylvia (In the City of Sylvia, José Luis Guerín, Spain, 2007)
• Unas fotos en la ciudad de Sylvia (Some Photos in the City of Sylvia, José Luis Guerín, Spain, 2007)
• Tren de sombras (Train of Shadows, José Luis Guerín, Spain, 1997)
• Reservations (Aloura Melissa Charles, USA, 2008)
  

Wake in Fright + Q&A session
I don't have time to go into detail. I found this really enjoyable, a gutsy Australian film, made by a Canadian. Maybe it takes an outsider to take an honest look at ourselves, for that is what Kotcheff achieved. It's very authentic and has dated really well. It looks a helluva lot better than the pirated DVD copy of a VHS that screened at MUFF last year, but I was aghast when about a minute or two disappeared from the screening I attended. Grant wants to leave the pub when the cop (Chips Rafferty) is about to take him to task for not offering to shout a drink in return. We missed that, but the first-time audience wouldn't know it.

The Q&A was with director Ted Kotcheff, editor Anthony Buckley and moderated by Mark Hartley (Not Quite Hollywood). Various stories and anecdotes were shared and enhanced the evening. I raised the issue of the missing bits, but given that the speakers weren't in attendance during the screening, couldn't really comment. Buckley assured me that the film is present in its entirety, so I'm assuming it was a one-off glitch.

In the City of Sylvia
José Luis Guerín’s In the City of Sylvia has been described using various well-deserved superlatives. Not only is Guerin's unique film an amazing cinematic accomplishment, but it does it with almost no dialogue. It taps into primal human desires for connection and desire, exploring the nature of memory.

Humanity is a strange beast, full of contradictions. On the one hand, “man is gregarious” and we desire love, friendship, community and so on. On the other, there is an inherent incompatibility between both individuals and communities, who seemed destined for conflict. True friendship is, it appears, quite rare and many friendships seem to depend on absence for sustenance (a type of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”, I suppose).

The Melbourne Cinémathèque screening of In the City of Sylvia was greatly enhanced by Some Photos in the City of Sylvia which is much more compelling than it looks on paper. Not only is it completely silent (no dialogue, voiceover or music - which highlighted my rumbling belly and no doubt disturbed those sitting close to me), but there are no moving images either. It consists of a series of still photographs by Guerín that effectively constitute (unconventionally) a type of making-of documentary that explains the original film.

Not only is the original film highly autobiographical or self-reflexive, dramatising the director’s own experiences over twenty years earlier in the same locations, but it sheds light on his intentions with the film and the theme of the struggle between the human desire to connect and the natural resistance to the same, or disconnection.

The film has both a naturalistic look and feel, yet stylistically heightened. The visuals are stunning, with Strasbourg an amazing backdrop as our artist protagonist traverses the streets of this picturesque small city in search of his lost Sylvia. The film assumes a voyeuristic perspective, highly observational, perhaps as the guy sees the city. We see lots of images of women, particularly young women. Some are gorgeous, some not. Often they are backdropped by large perfume advertisements that feature the faces of gorgeous young models, underscoring the director’s fascination with femininity.

Guerín’s preoccupation with faces takes various forms and he often portrays how people appear from the voyeur’s perspective. He could almost be toying with the audience, demonstrating how from a distance one person looks relative to another: they are not seated together but from the viewer’s perspective appear to relate. Deep focus is used to good effect, differentiating between the different scenarios. Similarly, Guerín seems fascinated by the dual or parallel imagery of filming someone through a window whose reflections superimpose over the person, creating a unique kind of visual experience.

Couples kissing are a recurring theme. Several characters reappear intermittently, like the African belt seller. A homeless woman is sitting in the street and, while we don’t see her again, we recognise her discarded beer bottles. “LAURE JE T’AIME” appears to be scrawled all around the city. Who is this Laure? And who is her lover?

In a film where dialogue is near absent, the music takes on a heightened sense of importance. It powerfully punctuates the narrative in an organic manner as our protagonists wander the steets. Sometimes there are performers at the conservatoire, buskers in the street or music blaring over speakers in a bar or passing car.

In the City of Sylvia is poetic, original, beautiful, captivating and moving. It is an experience and a privilege. If you get the chance to see it, don’t miss it.

Tren de sombras
Fatigue set in during this screening and I don't think I imbibed it as well as I could have otherwise. So I don't want to comment on it, other than to say I'd like to see it again.

Reservations
Nice film, but unexceptional. Co-presented by ACMI and Women in Film and Television, it naturally has a woman director and features Australia's Kerry Armstrong in top billing in an ensemble piece. Like In the City of Sylvia, it deals with themes of human disconnection as we encounter various lonely individuals spending one night in the same New York hotel.

Reservations is what I find myself now calling a "worthy" film, and that's not a compliment. Like many local films of recent years that tackle "worthy" issues, it somehow lacks dramatic impact. Sure, a film doesn't have to be hyper-real, but it just lacks pizzazz, oomph, mojo, something. We can see where it's going, it seems a bit too derivative and the film's conclusion is a bit too neat. But it's worthy!

Beggars Belief

I was down Lygon St. this evening and a woman was sitting on the cold and dark pavement asking for money. I consider myself a generous person, but I've had a long-standing policy of not giving to beggars. I'll give to buskers, I'll give to Big Issue vendors, even sometimes I give to charity (selectively) but generally I don't give to beggars.

Why? Partly it's an intuitive thing that I find hard to rationalise, but I'll try. I give to others, because I feel they're doing something, they're taking initiative and doing something to justify others giving. Beggars are often substance abusers who - we assume - are going to misuse the money for things other than basic necessities. I'm happy to part of a solution but not part of the problem and don't want to fund someone's nicotine, alcohol or other drug habit.

In recent years, I've loosened my attitude to beggars. It probably started with seeing Alkinos Tsilimidos' Tom White, a film that affected me deeply and made me look at homelessness differently. Isn't that what cinema is all about? I still tend to avoid those beggars that are obviously (at least, in my opinion or perception) are drug addicts. Depending on the demands on my time, sometimes I've taken to questioning the beggar, as I did twice tonight in short succession (and with hindsight, I suspect they're a male and female team).

Sometimes I've had conversations with homeless people and mental illness is clearly a factor for many of them. Sometimes I'll offer to buy food for the person, but this offer has never been taken up. I could mention a few stories, but that'll have to wait for another time (right, always another time).

So this 30-something woman, better-spoken than most and no obvious signs of addiction or mental illness asks for money. "What for", I ask. "For food and a room", comes the reply. "I won't give you money", I say, "but I'm happy to buy you a meal". "Nuh", she says, "I just want to buy some bread or something". "Well, let's go buy some bread". "Nuh, I just need $38 for a room for the night". And I walk away. A person says they want food, you offer food, but they just want the money.

As I'm walking away, I think about it. Maybe she said food, but really she just wants a room. Maybe I could have given something. I dunno, this is a hard one. This is where intuition plays a part, not that it's necessarily reliable.

I cross the road and find myself in a similar conversation with a guy of similar age. When I ask similar questions, he says he wants $38 for a room for the night in St. Kilda. OK, I give him $5. I'd just given the Big Issue vendor $5 and I was wondering what he thought of my charity. I suspected that he thought I was being conned; maybe I was.

When I crossed the road again, I handed the woman the $5 and said "I don't know what you're going to do with this, but I don't want to be part of someone's problem. If you're genuine, you can't survive like this". "I know", she said, "God bless". Goddamn, I hate that. It sounds so fucking false and bullshit. It occurred to me that these two are both claiming they need the same amount and are probably working together. We really don't know who is genuinely in need, and whether our contribution is making things better, or contributing to someone's decline. I find it sad that homelessness has become a bigger and bigger issue over time.

A final word: I will never give to a beggar who hassles people while they're eating a meal or having a coffee. I'm thinking specifically of Degraves St. This is a pet hate of mine and no culture on the planet accepts that you harrass people while they're eating. It's a kind of ambush where people don't want indigestion so are less likely to tell you to fuck off and have nowhere to go.

While this post might seem to have little to do with cinema, it touches on themes that recur regularly, and affect me most in films. Social issues and themes that touch on the nature of life, death and everything can be conveyed most magnificently and effectively through cinema, don't you think?