MIFF Day 19 (final day)

[Edit: comments to This Is England and The Silence have been added]

My final day of MIFF was pretty intense, but I was prepared for it by reducing the number of screenings I attended in the last week (two films on each of two days, one on each of the rest). Sunday saw me at four screenings, the most I've done in a day ever ("ha pooey", I hear some of you say, "I regularly do five, six or even seven!"). Well, four is a lot for me, and I'm not in a hurry to do it again.

I'm back at work, so time is a bit precious. I'm posting two reviews now, and will update this as I can with the others. Some time during the week, I'll also post an overview of MIFF.

Mister Lonely (Harmony Korine, UK/France, 2007)
In spite of some early projection problems and mixed reviews of Mister Lonely, the latest film by wunderkind Harmony Korine was not only one of the stand-out films for me at MIFF, but one of my favourites of the year thus far. My experience of his work to date is limited to his writing of Larry Clark’s Kids (1995, at age 20) and his directorial debut Gummo (1997). The former I saw relatively recently and impressed me with its gritty realism, while the latter surprised me on its theatrical release with its bleakness.

Mister Lonely is a much more colourful film than anything I’ve associated with Korine. Its visuals (such as set design, camera angles and cinematography) are very pleasing, accentuated by its seemingly unrelated parallel narratives and absurdist premise. A Michael Jackson impersonator in France meets a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, who introduces him to a Scottish commune full of various impersonators. While superficially the film appears to be frivolous, clearly it has deeper social comments to make about identity, loneliness and alienation, issues the director has been reportedly grappling with personally.

The other narrative relates to a group of missionaries in Panama, with Werner Herzog portraying a priest, Father Umbrillo, delivering food aid by plane, assisted by various nuns. While the connection between the dual narratives is unclear, this story is strangely surreal, visually alluring and entertaining. I've spent a week or so in Panama, including flying over the jungle in a small plane, but I didn't recognise the locale at the time (I thought it might have been the Caribbean).

There was a small flat spot towards the end of the film, but for most of the film’s 112 minutes, I had a big smile that was hard to wipe off my face. Charlie Chaplin, Shirley Temple, James Dean, Little Red Riding Hood, Queen Elizabeth, the Pope, The Three Stooges, Abraham Lincoln, Madonna and what I presume was a childhood version of Michael Jackson were all there.

The humour and irony are used with a clever and skillful blend of under- and over-statement. There is an underlying subtle sadness to some of the characters who, in spite of their eccentric alter egos, remain ordinary people that an audience can relate to. The film is intelligent and emotionally honest. One part is particularly close to the bone for me and brought tears to my eyes. This is probably Korine’s most accessible and enjoyable film. It deserves a theatrical release.

This was the second and final screening of Mister Lonely as part of MIFF's International Panorama. Link: Interview with Harmony Korine

Trailer for Mister Lonely
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The Man From London (Béla Tarr, France/Germany/Hungary/UK, 2007)
Like Mister Lonely, this part of MIFF’s ‘Come to Cannes’ screenings of films that recently debuted at Cannes. And once again I was surprised at how good this was, considering I’d heard some negative or indifferent murmurs about it. It goes to show that you never can judge a film until you’ve seen it yourself. This is my first ever attendance at a screening of a Béla Tarr film.

The Man From London is clearly a highly stylised homage to film noir of the 1940s. The lush black and white photography, using classic noir shadows and imagery is a feast for the eyes. The camera work is slow, fluid and dynamic, with very long takes in which little seems to happen. Combined with a mesmerising score slightly reminiscent of Angelo Badalamenti’s sounds on Twin Peaks, a mood of ever-growing suspense and menace is created that powerfully engages from start to finish.

The basic premise of the film is that Maloin, a night harbour worker (played by Miroslav Krobot) witnesses some treachery between a disembarking passenger of a ship (the man in the title) and another man on-shore. A death may have occurred and when Maloin investigates, he becomes involved in an intrigue from which he cannot extricate himself.

Tilda Swinton plays Maloin’s wife, though her voice is dubbed over in Hungarian. The film was part-English produced, so maybe a name known to English-speaking audiences was required to market the film. The role was small, and I always find Swinton an interesting actor, so it was a curiosity to see her in this role. In general the tired and worn-out characters looked terrific on film, with a timeless quality that matched the aesthetics of the decaying town.

This is not a film for everyone, as it requires some patience and appreciation for aesthetics over action, and there is not a whole lot of the latter. While the film’s major strength is its visuals, they serve to subtly drive the slow-burn suspense. I was surprised when people started walking out of the film, first one by one, then after an hour about twenty or so walked out in unison. I estimate 60 people left, around 10% of the audience at the sold-out Forum screening. I was equally surprised that so few walked out of Inland Empire (I counted only four, about 1% of the also sold-out ACMI screening). Still, what’s a good film or a good film festival without walk-outs? Many of my favourite films have had them. I have read that this is not one of Tarr's best films. Well, I loved it and must seek out his others.

This was the second and final screening of The Man From London as part of MIFF's International Panorama.

This is England (Shane Meadows, England, 2000)
This is the third film I have seen by Shane Meadows, the others being TwentyFourSeven (1997) and A Room for Romeo Brass (1999). Both these films had a local theatrical release, though the latter I saw at MIFF in 1998. All three of these films are coming-of-age stories revolving around young males from poor working-class areas.

Reviews around town seem to be universally proclaiming This Is England as the best film yet by Shane Meadows. I disagree. I found the film very enjoyable, gritty at times and with some excellent performances (especially by thirteen-year old Thomas Turgoose as Shaun, and Stephen Graham as Combo), but it was no better than Meadows' solid drama in TwentyFourSeven, in which Bob Hoskins portrays a boxer who trains disadvantaged boys to keep them off the street.

This Is England is reportedly Meadows' most autobiographical film. Clearly he had a dismal upbringing, and each of his films is uplifting, probably a reflection of the director's raising himself out of despair. While some of the recent accolades proclaim Meadows as the natural successor to Ken Loach or Mike Leigh. Again, I disagree. All three directors often portray the same working class, but Meadows' films are clearly more optimistic than Loach and Leigh, more stylised and thus less naturalistic. His films are more accessible to mainstream audiences. I consider them good mainstream entertainment, whereas Loach and Leigh are definitely arthouse film-makers.

Was the film a good choice as closing film? I suppose the answer depends on one's criteria for selection. In support, the opening and closing night films are entertaining and relevant but I find it a little odd that both have been selected with theatrical releases so close to MIFF. Sicko opened on wide release on August 9 before the festival had finished, while This Is England opened on August 16.

Prior to the film's screening, there were addresses by Claire Dobbin, Gavin Jennings (the new Minister of Innovation, replacing John Brumby who has assumed the role of Premier) and Richard Moore. Jennings was the only speaker who spoke without notes; he is a very competent and humorous speaker.

The Silence (Tystnaden, Ingmar Bergman, Sweden, 1963)
The Silence was one of the four surprise screenings on the final day, a tribute to the recently departed Bergman. Unfortunately, This Is England finished late and I missed the first ten minutes or so of The Silence. While I'm told I didn't miss much, I felt a little disoriented at first and it took me a while to understand what was going on.

The film didn't engage me as much as the only other Bergman I've seen, Wild Strawberries. It did look nice and the tense perversity was handled well. As a film by a significant director, there's probably not a lot I can add at this point, but I look forward to exploring more of his works.

Link: Index of MIFF films reviewed

MIFF Day 18

The second last day of MIFF 2007, and only one film attended today, but it was a corker. If I attend the four films I've booked for tomorrow, it'll be the first time I've done four in a day. I don't really care to cram films into one day; it's just turned out that way. Two of the films are films that debuted at Cannes: Bela Tarr's The Man From London and Harmony Korine's Mister Lonely. The others are the official closing night film, Shane Meadows' This is England and the nod of respect to the recently departed Ingmar Bergman, The Silence. If I make it to all four screenings, it'll be a late night tomorrow, and with work the next morning, I'm not sure how quickly I will get my report posted.

Snow Angels (David Gordon Green, Canada, 2007)
It feels like it's been a while since a film brought me to tears, and while I wasn't expecting this excellent drama to sneak up on me like it did, it did, and I cried. At first Snow Angels gives the impression it is going to be another slightly left-of-centre American indie film (though it's Canadian), the type that gets touted as a Sundance film. It's not quite quirky, and certainly no Little Miss Sunshine, but a little idiosyncratic. It reminds me ever so slightly of Offset, a film that screened at the German Film Festival in Melbourne this year. Both films give the appearance of going down a well-worn track, yet skillfully avoid clichés and stereotypes, delivering emotional truths and naturalistic scenarios against expectation.

The film focuses on a number of inter-twined relationships within a small town. Glenn (Sam Rockwell, in perhaps the performance of his career thus far) and Annie (Kate Beckinsale, also excellent) are the main characters - their separation has caused much grief. Annie is finding love elsewhere, while Glenn can't let go. There is also a young child in the middle. Other characters have drama of their own. Arthur (Michael Angarano) is experiencing first love with Lila (Olivia Thirlby). The nuanced character development is excellent. There is no good guy/bad guy thing happening - these are real people who are capable of both good and bad (to put it simply).

The story is very accessible and many people will relate to the unfolding drama. What I didn't expect was for some of the realistic interactions and the tragic outcomes. What seems to start as a light and pleasing film packs a powerful punch that left me affected for some time after. For me, the film recalls others such as Paul Schraeder's Affliction and James Marsh's The King. Snow Angels is more accessible than both those films.

I've not seen any previous films by David Gordon Green, though I did note that he was credited as a producer of Shotgun Stories, one of my favourite films at MIFF this year. This film is a real gem and deserves a theatrical release. Hopefully Hopscotch, Madman or one of the other local distributors will pick it up. It should do well at the Palace, Nova or Kino cinemas.

This was the second and final screening of Snow Angels as part of MIFF's International Panorama.

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

MIFF Day 17

Seventeen days down and two to go. I can't wait to get back to normality. Film festivals are intense and, for me, some anxiety. I had four sessions booked for today, two that I decided last week I wouldn't attend, and cancelled another today, leaving just Lars von Trier's The Boss of It All. The reason? Sleep deprivation. I got to bed early enough, but with certain things on my mind, I was still awake at 2.30am so got up to do some things and didn't get to bed until 5am. I'm feeling like shit.

On the plus side, I met up with Trent from Sydney for the first time and saw the film together at the glorious Regent, my favourite MIFF venue.

I'm a little disappointed that I'm not going to go to Imamura's The Pornographers tomorrow, as I have other things to do. I haven't missed any of the Japanese retrospectives so far, but such is life, and life goes on.

The Boss of It All (Direktøren for det hele, Lars Von Trier, Denmark, 2006)
I went into this film with very modest expectations. Other than von Trier's Breaking the Waves, nothing I've seen of his since has overly impressed me. Not that I thought any of them were bad, but they just haven't engaged me much.

The Boss of It All turns out to be quite a smart and enjoyable comedy, somewhat farcical in the vein of François Veber's The Dinner Game. The director doesn't take it seriously at all, taking the mickey out of himself, doing a self-referential voice-over about his act of filming in which we see him and the cameraman reflected in the window of the office building that is the setting of the film.

The basic premise is that a Danish CEO is attempting to sell his business to a Finnish buyer, and has hired an actor to fill in as the phantom owner. It's completely preposterous, but good characterisations, humour and intelligent setups make for a lot of fun. As I said about Fay Grim, there's so little intelligent comedy around these days, so I found it refreshing. Just what the doctor ordered as treatment for MIFF-fatigue.

Just a small point in passing: the two protagonists look like younger versions of Derryn Hinch and Geoffrey Rush.

This was the second and final screening of The Boss of It All as part of MIFF's International Panorama. Link: Official website.

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

MIFF Day 16

Day 16, and MIFF-fatigue is taking its toll. Over the length of MIFF, I booked quite a few sessions in the Neighbourhood Watch section, and there seems to be homogeny among the Asian films selected. I do like contemplative cinema in general, but in the intense context of a festival, I'm finding them a bit much of the same. Several of the films I've seen (such as yesterday's Syndromes and a Century) may make a better impression on me in a non-festival context.

Memo to myself: next year, book films from some of the sections I wouldn't normally, like this year's Full Moon Fever and Forbidden Pleasures. I want to see Teeth (which is part of Forbidden Pleasures), but didn't book it because it has a local release planned. I've heard it's a lot of fun.

I had three films booked for today, but because of the fatigue, I decided to drop two of them and do something non-film related (like car-shopping for the missus). It was a good break and I found it liberating. I rode around town on my motorbike for something other than the short ride to the city. So, I missed The Night of the Sunflowers (which Matt Clayfield tells me was OK, but nothing special), and Kim Ki-duk's Time (which others, including Matt, haven't been impressed with). The one film I saw was great.

A Man Vanishes (Ningen Johatsu, Shohei Imamura, Japan, 1967)
I found this in some ways a remarkable film, made with self-conscious introspection about cinema documentary, the role of it and the inherent dishonesty of the medium. The film's genesis was a genuine research into the phenomenon of people who simply disappear from their lives in contemporary Japan.

The film plays as a genuine documentary based on a real case, only to be revealled towards the end as a fictionalised dramatisation. The film pre-empts the 'reality' format of current television by four decades. It's unclear to me how much of the story is true, which characters are real and which are actors, and how much it is based on reality.

Even though I knew some of the nature of the film before seeing it, I as still duped and bewildered, the lines between reality and fiction completely blurred. That was the director's stated intention, and the point was profoundly made. I am accustomed to directors blurring documentary and fiction like Errol Morris' The Thin Blue Line or Krzysztof Kiewslowski's Curriculum Vitae, and Imamura must have been a pioneer with the concept.

The end of the film is particularly poignant, and even after we are realise we have been manipulated about what is the truth, the on-screen dialogue continues to confound us. Brilliant film-making!

A Man Vanishes had a single screening at MIFF as part of the Shohei Imamura retrospective.
Also still to be screened: The Pornographers.

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

MIFF Day 15

Intentions of Murder (aka Unholy Desire, Akai satsui, Shohei Imamura, Japan, 1964)
This is my fifth Imamura film viewed at MIFF and I feel like I'm just starting to get a handle on 'where he's at'. Intentions of Murder has many trademarks of Imamura, such as people struggling at the bottom of the social foodchain, adultery, treachery, sex and violence. The protagonist is not a classic beauty nor a powerless victim, but a feisty and large-framed woman who fights back. In contrast, the men in her life appear like weak-willed weasles.

What I like about Imamura is his matter-of-fact depictions of struggle, a theme I find connects people through the medium of film. It is the one thing, perhaps more than any other, that unites people of all different races, gender, political persuasions and social standing. While all people struggle, but in different ways, it is easier to depict among the lower social orders - the middle and upper classes are more able to give an air of being free from struggle.

In depicting the struggles of the characters in Intentions of Murder, we get to see the day-to-day activities of ordinary people from another culture, and from another time. This aspect is depicted with a beautiful aesthetic, particularly with the glorious black and white cinematography. At 150 minutes, I found the film a little long, but having been up late the previous night watching Inland Empire may have been a factor in that. It is, however, one of my favourites of Imamura's thus far, alongside Vengeance is Mine and The Ballad of Narayama.

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

Syndromes and a Century (Sang sattawat, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Thailand/France/Austria, 2006)
This film was preceded by a significant amount of online buzz. Perhaps my expectations were too high, or perhaps I've seen too many contemplative Asian films at MIFF. Syndromes and a Century is a nice, poetic film that is visually pleasing, observational and (I suspect) some meanings that may have eluded me. But it just didn't engage me.

The film is semi-autobiographical, based on the director's childhood recollections of living in a hospital - his parents were both doctors. I find it remarkable that this completely inoffensive film is banned in its native Thailand. I'd be interested to revisit this some time in the future, away from the blitz of festival films.

This was the second and final screening of Syndromes and a Century as part of MIFF's Neighbourhood Watch.

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

MIFF Surprise Films Announced

This year's surprise films have been revealled. They all screen at 9.30pm on the final day, Sunday 12 August. They are:

ACMI: The Passenger (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975)
Forum: The Silence (Ingmar Bergman, 1963)
Greater Union: Out of the Blue (Robert Sarkies, 2006)
Capitol: Teeth (re-screening)

I actually blindly booked my ticket at the Forum weeks ago, and by sheer luck, it's my pick of those revealled so far. I've only seen Bergman's Wild Strawberries, which screened at Melbourne Cinémathèque, and impressed me. The Passenger is the only film by Antonioni that I've seen, and I didn't like it. I found it contrived and unbelievable that a world correspondent could trade places like that. Obviously these two films are screening as homages to these screen greats who have both passed away recently.

Out of the Blue and Teeth have already screened at MIFF and are getting an encore.

MIFF Day 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MIFF Day 13

Eijanaika (Shohei Imamura, Japan, 1981)
This is classic Imamura: prostituition, criminals, racketeering, bribes, murder and more. This is Imamura's Japan, what he considers the real Japan. The other Japan - the postcard perfect one - is a figment of the imagination. I like this perspective. It reminds me of the dishonesty inherent in society, how people like to project their perfect family life, when in actuality it's all a facade.

The struggles of the protagonists were captivating. It's nineteenth century Japan, and Genji (Shigeru Izumiya) returns after being missing six years at sea. His wife Ine (Kaori Momoi) has left the village and found work in a carnival in Edo (current Tokyo). The carnival is owned by a criminal who keeps Ine as his mistress. Genji reunites with Ine, but life is complicated and their endeavours are thwarted in various ways.

I found the plot convoluted, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. I did have problems following all the relationships and the various political and treacherous intrigues. It contributed to an interesting and engaging plot. I did find the film a little long, and when it morphed into a musical at the end, it was uplifiting but inconsistent with the rest of the film. I'm probably putting myself in the firing line in saying this (I know Imamura has a lot of passionate fans), but the end just didn't work for me, even though I enjoyed the 'rude' aspects (there was a can-can dance like you've never seen before). I probably need to see this film again at another time.

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

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

MIFF Day 12

Half Moon (Niwemang, Bahman Ghobadi, Iran/Iraq/Austria/France, 2006)
Half Moon is a road movie with a difference. An elderly man Moma (portrayed with great range and nuance by Ismail Ghaffari), a celebrity singer in his native Iraqi Kurdistan, sets out by bus from Iran with an entourage of his musician sons to his homeland to perform in a large public concert. With seven months of rehearsals, official permits and visas carefully arranged, nothing could go wrong, right? Well, this is border country between bitter enemies Iran, Iraq and the highly marginalised Kurds who are basically a dispossessed people without a country and held in contempt by both countries as well as Turkey. This film illustrates what can go wrong.

While beautifully filmed in some beautifully stark landscapes, the real richness of Half Moon - like most Iranian films screened here - is in the simplicity of the story and the attention to detail to the struggles of seemingly mundane activities. The cultural aspects are especially fascinating. The authority of Moma as the family patriarch is evident; his middle aged sons all hold him in high esteem and cower before him. Not unexpectedly, as Iran does not allow women to sing in public, there are specific issues with involving a woman in such a cultural endeavour.

The family and social dynamics depicted breathe life into this little gem of a film. Music is a universal language that binds people, so when contempt is shown by the Iranian border guards, it has a powerful effect on the audience. My in-laws are similarly musicians of a dispossessed people (Pontians, Greek orthodox who once lived in Turkey), so I could relate well to the scenario in the film. The subtle politics in the film relate to the current state in the region, and it's regrettable that the film has been banned in Iran (the government considers it pro-separatist).

It was interesting to see the advancement of technologies such as cell phones and wireless internet laptops creeping into these otherwise isolated communities. The film is full of beautifully understated performances and naturalistic humour and drama. I highly recommend it and, like most Iranian films I have seen, is something I would take my six year old son to see (were it to get a theatrical release).

Half Moon screened as part of MIFF's International Panorama. It screens again on Friday 10 August at 5pm at the Forum Theatre.

Links: Interview with the director / And another / Official website

Brand Upon the Brain! (Guy Maddin, USA/Canada, 2006)
With the exception of a few brief seemingly random shots, Brand Upon the Brain! is shot (or made to appear in post-production to be shot) in grainy black and white. The look is reminiscent of David Lynch's Eraserhead, a classic that may have been an influence, though the style is quite different. Maddin's film uses much more frenetic editing techniques, particularly frequent cutting to create an abrasive subliminal effect from which the title appears to be derived.

I use the term 'abrasive' and for some people that might be a negative, but I found it effective. The film uses captions and along with a neo-silent-era visual design, it has the effect of a coherent experimental film with a bizarre horror narrative. A man, Guy, returns to the island orphanage of his parents after a thirty year absence, on the request of his dying mother. It turns out the parents were subjecting the orphans to some peculiar activities from which Guy escaped.

I found the design, high-contrast lighting and editing techniques effective in conveying a bizarre nightmare-type of story, a horror film that is not entirely original in narrative nor design, yet original in its presentation. I liked the voice-over narration by Isabelle Rosellini. There are some very attractive characterisations and depictions of inoffensive perversity. It's not an earth-shattering highlight of MIFF, but is a good film to enhance the diversity of screenings in a festival context. Definitely worth a look.

Brand Upon the Brain! screened as part of MIFF's International Panorama. It screens again on Wednesday 8 August at 9.20pm at the Forum Theatre.

Links: Offical website / Interview with the director

Fay Grim (Hal Hartley, USA, 2006)
Fay Grim is the continuation of a story begun ten years earlier with Hartley's Henry Fool. I haven't seen the earlier film, and I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I can only regard the current film on its own merits.

For most people, Hal Hartley's style of film-making is something that you either like or you don't. His combination of action, drama, absurdity and dry, ironic humour really resonates with me, and Fay Grim is no exception. It has an air of sharply-written intelligent parody that had myself and many in the audience laughing out loud. For the first half of the film it was relentless and delivered with deadpan straightness. It's a style of humour sadly lacking in cinemas and a welcome relief to the mindless teen comedies that Hollywood pumps out like pancakes.

During the second half of the film, the humour starts to thin as the film morphs into an international espionage/conspiracy thriller. Whether this was Hartley's intention or whether he ran out of ideas is not clear, but I think a bit of editing or re-writing to cut fifteen minutes off the film would have maintained the film's original momentum.

The performances were generally good, particularly Parker Posey and Jeff Goldblum, who had the most screen time. Saffron Burrows, James Urbaniak, Carl Montgomery and Elina Löwensohn all played good support roles. The film's visuals were nice (set in New York, Paris, Berlin and Istanbul) and the music (also by Hartley) was good without being intrusive. The camera angles are mostly off-kilter and point up at the characters - a device that seems designed to accentuate the absurdity of the plot. It initially distracted me as I tried to follow which way the camera was skewed, but then when I just went with the flow it was fine. The film is well-written and I enjoyed this it immensely. If you like Hartley's earlier work, you'll probably like this.

Fay Grim screened as part of MIFF's International Panorama. It screens again on Saturday 11 August at 9.40pm at the Regent Theatre. It also has some kind of future local release, though it's unclear whether it will be theatrical or DVD, or when. Official website.

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

MIFF Day 11

Black Rain (Kuroi ame, Shohei Imamura, Japan, 1989)
It was evident until the final credits that this film was made in 1989, as all the elements of its production were made to look 1960's - the acting, the characterisations, the sets and the props all had an aesthetic from an earlier time.

The film opens to the moments prior to the dropping of the A-bomb on Hiroshima and how this tragic incident affects one family: a young woman, Yasuko, who lives with her aunt and uncle. Even in black and white, and using special effects that are quite primitive by modern standards but emotive and effective nonetheless, the depictions of the immediate aftermath of the bomb are quite horrific. Family members become unrecognisable to each other, others resemble zombies as they wander the streets bedraggled and in shock.

The title refers to rainfall that fell soon after the bomb, which was mixed with radioactive ash, and in which Yasuko is caught. Rumors of Yasuko's being in Hiroshima at the time of the bombing affect her marriage prospects and it is later learnt that the black rain is indeed causing sicknesses. The film is concerned not just with the physical effects of the bomb on the Japanese, but on the social and psychological damage that was wrought.

I found the film compassionate and a fascinating journey into a unique culture. While the film is primarily concerned with the pain felt by one family, the film's gentle political message is relevant today and probably for all time - wars have horrific consequences, and should not be entered into unless absolutely necessary. It is said that history repeats itself, and the current leaders of the 'Coalition of the Willing' have learned nothing. While atomic warfare has not resurfaced since 1945, other deadly after-effects have. This film is compelling viewing.

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

Belle toujours (Manoel de Oliveira, Portugal/France 2006)
In Belle toujours (which I presume to mean "always beautiful"), Manoel de Oliveira pays homage to Luis Buñuel's Belle de jour ("beauty of the day", or "daytime prostitute"). While I haven't seen Buñuel's film, it doesn't share his surreal aesthetic except for one brief event. But nor does it have to, and I found the film an interesting exploration of characters knowing nothing of the earlier film. I enjoyed the film and look forward to seeing Buñuel's original and then revisiting de Oliveira's. I might have more to write then.

This was the second and final screening of Belle Toujours as part of MIFF's International Panorama.

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

MIFF Day 10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MIFF Day 9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MIFF Day 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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