Film Festival Fun

It's that time of year again.

Right now, Wellington can either be stunningly beautiful, channelling Tennyson's "all in the blue, unclouded weather," or unapologetically foul, as the Cook Strait is rained, blown and spewed upon the streets, houses and hills.

Basically it's this one day:

And something like this the next:

The state of the weather is a little bit off-topic, but my point is that each year, mid-to-late July heralds the New Zealand International Film Festival, and, for the the third year in a row, I plan to traipse around the city in inappropriate footwear, visiting the gorgeous cinemas, hunting down interesting new films. (The inappropriate footwear being little suede ballet flats. They don't hold up to the city's hills, and they certainly don't survive a full southerly thunderstorm.)

Anyway, this year, I've got a lot of films I want to see. Unfortunately, due to other people being a lot more organised than me (ie, they booked tickets), I've missed out on seeing the Czech "Kawasaki's Rose" - a film inspired that explores the communist state surviellence that Czech's live with daily. Not surprisingly, this film is said to be inspired by "The Lives of Others."

However, not all is lost.

There's still Polanski's "The Ghost Writer" (starring the very attractive Ewan McGregor). There's the kiwi film "The Hopes and Dreams of Gazza Snell." There's the intriguing (and beautiful looking) Brazilian film "I Travel Because I Have To, I Come Back Because I Love You." And finally, with a nod to my Australian Gangster heritage, there's "Animal Kingdom."

Should be good times.

xx Esther

Separation City

I’ve been meaning to write about this film for a long time. Directed by Paul Middleditch and written by Tom Scott, Separation City is a Kiwi (with lots of Aussies and a couple of Germans too) film that was released here last year, was and released in Australia in mid-March this year (no idea what cinemas it’s showing in, sorry).

Put very simply, Separation City is a film about relationships and breaking up in Wellington. The poetic irony is that I watched it, and then was broken up with, in Wellington (screw you, poetic irony). The film follows Simon, (Australian Joel Edgerton), who is married, increasingly unsuccessfully, to Pam (Dannielle Cormack). Simon and Pam are part of a group of several professional, mid-30s friends who all have small children and who all are trying to figure out love and life. Rhonda Mitra plays one of these friends, the supposedly German/Dutch Katrien, though Mitra has got the plummiest accent you’ll ever hear. Katrien’s husband Klaus, (who does sound legitimately German) cheats on her, and Simon, frustrated and not connecting at all with Pam, falls in serious unrequited love with Katrien. Unsurprisingly, stuff gets problematic.

L-R - Katrien, Pam, Joanne, Harry, Simon

That’s the simple outline. Separation City is about a lot more than just break-ups. To begin with, it’s got a sharp, dark, sense of humour. Also, being set in Wellington, it’s got politics, sleazy politicians and wry journalists. When it examines families and the daily, often cringe-worthy dynamics of family life, (used condoms, chocolate cereal for breakfast, remembering to buy "cheapish but still drinkable Aussie Shiraz" for a dinner party), it’s amusing, accurate and not prepared to gloss over the awkward things that matter. Finally, the cinematography in Separation City is fantastic. Wellington comes across as the spectacular, hilly coastal city it is, though in Separation City, Wellington's absolute best side is shown - it’s nearly always sunny and only mildly breezy (filthy lies). It’s worth watching the film just for the beautiful scenery.

And now I have a confession to make. I really wanted to love this film. It’s set in Wellington! Joel Edgerton is very good looking! Les Hill (who plays Simon’s journalist best friend, Harry, and who is, hand down, the films’ best actor) is (without hyperbole) the greatest character ever!

But I couldn’t love it. I could like sections of it a lot, but in places the film feels forced and contrived. The voice over provided by Simon and Katrien is especially contrived and unnecessary (though Simon’s can be quite funny). The pace is very uneven, and although the sections with the men’s group are all at once hilarious, poignant and revealing, they feel somewhat out of place, like they could be from another film.

This is not to say you shouldn’t watch Separation City. It is very much worth seeing. But just don’t go to it expecting to fall in love.

xx Esther

A Bittersweet 'Welcome'

I am not much of a cryer in movies. This may sound a little surprising from someone as emotional as myself, but it usually takes a fair bit of sadness in a film for me to lose it. This is what happened during a screening of French director Philippe Lioret's Welcome. This is probably the saddest film I have seen all year!

Set in the northern French town of Calais, Welcome is the story of Bilal (Firat Ayverdi), a seventeen year-old Iraqi Kurd immigrant. Bilal has survived a walk (yes walk) from his homeland, now setting his sights on crossing the English Channel to reach his girlfriend, Mina(Derya Ayverdi). Mina and her Iraqi family have migrated to London, with Bilal having promised to join there, and make a life together. After attempts to smuggle the border on a cargo truck, Bilial decides to swim the Channel. In this plight he meets Simon (Vincent Lindon), a heart-broken middle-aged swimming instructor. Simon takes the young Iraqi under his wing, teaching him the skills that made himself a French champion. The kindness Simon shows is at great personal risk, and the Calais authorities are soon on to him. Assisting immigrants is a major offence, with the issue a very real one for French society. However, in true French style Simon's shift from lifeless individual to one of compassion causes a change of heart in his much younger and very attractive ex-wife Marion (Audrey Dana). Love scenes and passionate embraces, the hallmarks of any French movie, ensue.

It is not all tragedy. The bond between Bilal and Simon is moving. While other citizens in Calais look to the immigrants as a form of vermin, Simon takes the time to engage with one of these desperate and impoverished individuals. Plainly, Simon gains as much from the relationship as Bilal, with the coach having his passion for swimming revived through his young protege. The stamina Bilal has shown in making his way to France, all in the name of a girl whom he has spoken to since leaving his homeland, shows more personal strength than that needed to swim the English channel. At only seventeen, he has lived beyond his years, something that is the case for many young immigrants. At the same time, his love for Mina and dream to be a famous footballer connect Bilal to many of the Western citizens whom regard immigrant like himself as a unwanted aliens. Lioret manages the balance of topical and complex themes with personal bonds, making Welcome avoid becoming a lecture on the rights and wrongs of immigration.

What really got me about this film was the confronting realness of the plot. Any Australia knows how topical and distressing issues of immigration are. This is a situation that is seen throughout the world. In France, stories like Bilal's are ever-present. I think it is so important for films about these issues to be made. Films, like Welcome, that do not attempt to gloss over or resolve the situation. Intersections with vignettes of the French immigration authorities, and escaped immigrants like Mina's family in London effectively convey the complexity of the situation. The perspective of each group is explored; the hesitation toward helping immigrants, their desire for a better life and Simon's choice to help one of these individuals to achieve this.

This is great film, but make sure to take lots of tissues!

Gracie

xx

Ford's Colour-Rich 'A Single Man'

If a film were a painting, it would be A Single Man. The Tom Ford drama is a colour-rich tableau of 1960s design elements. From the mauve cigarettes, to sixties fashion, the film is all about colour. Using colour to highlight emotions, the viewer is lured into the layered narrative of the film through its rich palette of sixties hues. This is exactly what happened to me. I found myself captivated by the surreal quality of the film. Ford added colour to scenes of happiness, flirtation or poignancy, with a distinct greyness dominating moments of melancholy. This masterful colour awareness tells of Ford's profession as a fashion designer, with A Single Man marking his first foray into writing/ directing.

After my ranting about colour, I should probably talk about the film itself! A Single Man is based on a novel by Christopher Isherwood. It is the story of a middle aged College English professor in LA, George Falconer, who desperately seeking to inject some colour back into his life, so to speak. George, a native Englishman is played by Colin Firth. The actor leaves his stereotype of the desirable rom com hero behind in this role, embodying this tormented, yet passionate character. George's partner Jim (played by the gorgeous Matthew Goode) has recently died in a car accident, and his life has become one of monotony and recluse. Even his past love Charley, played by the wonderful Julianne Moore can't bring him out of his melancholy. Charley is a middle-aged divorcee, who looks like what a go-go dancer would be, some twenty years after their time on stage. Her perfectly coiffured hair and elaborately painted face mask a complex and deeply sad individual. Ford's masterly of colour and design are exemplified in his characterisation of Charley, with her mauve cigarettes and exotic boudoir telling of her dramatic personality. The same technique is used to convey the image of George as a more structured personality. The film opens with him dressing himself in the morning. George speaks about how his identity is constructed each day, carefully and slowly, before being shown to the world around him.

Colour is drawn on by Ford to tell of George's character. As he is in a state of depression, George is shown as a grey figure, with his business suits and static image conveying a sense of routine and unhappiness to the viewer. This is not just in his clothing, but in his complexion. Each time he experiences happiness, like watching the kids next door playing or talking about literature to one of his students, his cheeks become flushed. This subtlety tells of Ford's awareness of the power of colour as a marker for expression. One of my favorite scenes is when George goes for a late night swim with one of his students at a Californian beach. The most intense hues of blue fill the screen - midnight blue in the sky, a luminescent moonlit sand, framing a rich blue ocean. The shot is so powerfully, with this power conveying the significance of this event in George's life.

In essence, this film is about dealing with the daily routines of life. Routines that, for ambitious or creative types, signal a life of mediocrity. George's solitude, and friendship with a young student, who has the same curiosity that he once had, are used to explore the ways in which our lives turn out differently to anticipated. George, having planned to spend his life with Jim, is forced to contemplate a different future. A grey future, solitary future. The prospect of this seems too overwhelming and lifeless for George, who instead seeks escape from it. Colour and design are used to subtlety reinforces these themes. The spilled ink that marks George's bedsheets and leaves stains on his lips symbolises his personal deluge. This draws on the ways in which we associate certain shades with certain emotions. People wishing for an idealised life speaking of looking at the world with rose-coloured glasses. In A Single Man, Ford adopts glasses of all different colours, revealing the many shifts of perspectives inherent in society.

All in all, this is an excellent film!

Gracie

xx

Avatar (Or James Cameron's Big Win)

I saw "Avatar" on the weekend. (Yes, I am that disorganised that it has taken me two months longer than everyone else to get to see it. Oddly enough, this exact same situation occurred when "Titanic" was released too.)

Anyway, after watching "Avatar", my Spy-friend and I (oh yes, New Zealand has spies) decided that the entire film was probably the result of a bet, probably between James Cameron and Steven Spielberg. We think it probably went down something like this:

A bar, Hollywood, CA, 1998

JAMES CAMERON and STEVEN SPIELBERG are having a beer. There are many empty glasses around them. Also, conversation is beginning to get a little on the braggart side.

JAMES CAMERON

So, I'm pretty much the greatest director ever.

SPIELBERG ejects a lot of his beer, spluttering into his glass.

STEVEN SPIELBERG

Bullshit you are. Remember "Schindler's List"? Academy Awards?

CAMERON is not having any of this.

JAMES CAMERON

Please, Stevey-Boy - "Titanic"? Highest grossing film EV-VAH, biatch.

Plus, I've got those gold statues too.

STEVEN SPIELBERG (mutters)

Yeah, but you're a commercial sell-out.

But CAMERON hasn't heard him and just rolls on.

JAMES CAMERON

That's right. You got nothing.

SPIELBERG just stares at him, steely.

STEVEN SPIELBERG

Ok then, jackass. If you're that good, top "Titanic".

JAMES CAMERON

Easy. No worries.

But SPIELBERG continues.

STEVEN SPIELBERG

But you have to put something really messed up in it.

Like something that NO ONE in Hollywood wants to see.

CAMERON is wary.

JAMES CAMERON

Ok, like what?

SPIELBERG leans back, considering.

STEVEN SPIELBERG

Like blue aliens. Really big aliens. With tails. Having sex.

CAMERON is nervous but he tries to hide it and sits up straight. He's ready.

JAMES CAMERON

You know what? I'm the greatest director ever.

I made the best film ever. But now I will top it.

And the film will have blue alien sex.

I can do it.

---

And so BAM. That's the story behind "Avatar".

Look, I'm sure most people have seen "Avatar" by now and have made up their own minds about it, so I will try to keep this review short.

I think it's very "Blockbuster" - very epic. I found it entertaining but that the story line was quite conventional and really, it felt like a bit of a first draft (sorry JC, know you worked on it for like 10 years...). All the key elements of an interesting story were there, but they needed to be refined and shaped in order to be more thought-provoking and truly fresh.

Also, I thought it didn't have anywhere near the same amount of emotional depth, nor the nuanced examination of the human condition that Cameron's (best) film "Terminator 2" does. Furthermore, all of the major characters felt anywhere from underdeveloped or just downright cliched and lacking in genuine motivation.

Of course, the whole film looks fantastic. This can't be stressed enough. You're never aware that what you're watching is probably 90% not real - it looks REAL, and REALLY COOL at that. You don't sit there going "that's fake, that's all computer generated..." - I find this is the case with most other action blockbusters...

Also, I should add that I think it's great that millions of people are seeing a film that stresses environmentalism and a gentle approach to looking after the planet, rather than say, a film like "Independence Day" where it's all about being defensive and the killing of aliens is the primary goal.

So that's my little "Avatar" review.

Esther xx

My Year Without Sex (It’s a film, people)

I’ve decided to write about my favourite Australian film for this year after Louis Nowra went and hated on Australian Film (capitals most certainly required) in the society and culture magazine, The Monthly. (Honestly, I hear that title and I just shudder, imagining 1960s Maiden Aunts whispering to young nieces, “have you got your monthlies yet?”... I digress...)

The cast of "My Year Without Sex" (L-R) Portia Bradley as Ruby, Matt Day as Ross, Sacha Horler as Natalie and Jonathan Segat as Louis

So Nowra was none too impressed with the this, or really any years’ films (link to the online preview of the article here: http://www.themonthly.com.au/monthly-essays-louis-nowra-nowhere-near-hollywood-preview-australian-film-2178) In the full article, Nowra writes that after deciding to sit down to watch most of the Australian films released this year, he found they suffered a "monotonous bleakness", adding that they are "so dispiriting that they make Leonard Cohen seem positively cheery". Basically, if Australian films were personified, according to Nowra, they’d be beige-clad emo kids, who all just stand, dull and gloomy in the corner.

I haven’t, like Nowra, sat down to immerse in all that the Australian film industry has offered us in 2009. So basically, I’m pontificating and generalising without being truly educated (always a dangerous situation). However, I’ve watched enough Australian films from previous years, and I tend to agree with him, up until a point. Australian films can be terribly grim and unsatisfying, and for some reason, the more grim and unsatisfying they are, the more props they receive from critics and the public alike. Think “Jindabyne” (2006) where there’s a lot of cold, empty angst, and killer/rapists get to roam free amongst the sub-alpine scenery. Or “Noise” (2007) where there’s further random, unresolved death (albeit this time in grim cheerless suburban Melbourne). And, in Noise, just to really make sure you feel like someone swiped the final bite of your sandwich, it’s kept deliberately ambiguous as to whether Brendan Cowell’s protagonist character lives or dies (personally, I hope he died. He was a jackass).

I know that some argue that this speaks to a certain “sophistication” that these films possess. “All films don’t have to be neat Hollywood narratives!” the wanky-film crowds cry. But before you go all Margaret-and-David on me and start defending the depth and realism of Australia’s films, I want to make a few points: Firstly, even though your film is wrought, probably involving dead/dying/emotionally disconnected relatives, it doesn’t mean it’s good. Secondly, resolution doesn’t actually cheapen a story. Austen managed to resolve her narratives. So did Dickens. Hell, Shakespeare achieved ultimate resolution in almost every play, either marrying or killing everyone off. No one’s accused him of being some populist schmaltzy sell-out. Anyway, my point is that a narrative can still be interesting, thought-provoking and successful even as it is resolved. Finally, elements of “happy” and “funny” doesn’t automatically = Rob Schiender’s “The Animal”. Films can be make you laugh and still be intellectually rigorous. The Australian film industry needs to get on this concept.

I would like to use Sarah Watt’s film “My Year Without Sex” (2009) as an example of an Australian film that is sweet and quirky and fun but also incredibly believable, challenging and emotionally nuanced (simply setting the tone of your film at “grim” does not make it nuanced. It feels like you’re getting hit over the head with a hammer). “My Year Without Sex” offers the audience a myriad of emotional notes – there are some very dark, scary moments in this film but the key to its ultimate success is that they are tempered with “happy”, often ironically gorgeous other moments. A clear example of this occurs when Natalie and Ross’ children, Louis and Ruby, reveal a giant “Welcome Bunny!” sign moments after Ross, having forgotten to buy any chocolates for Easter, says that they (his kids) probably don’t still believe in/care about the Easter Bunny and all the chocolately goodness that the said bunny brings. The film then cuts to Ross, at the local servo, picking through the remaining four, broken chocolate rabbits.

Welcome, Bunny

So, Louis Nowra, there was at least one fantastic, non-grim film made in 2009. And it's important to note that the Australian film industry will only become more interesting and complex if more films like “My Year Without Sex” are made.

“My Year Without Sex” – available now at all good video shops (I grew up in the 90s. I’ll be renting DVDs from “video” shops forever).

Esther xx

Beauty and the Beast

“Beauty and the Beast”: A traditional French fairytale where, in traditional fairytale style, the heroine’s mother is absent (let’s assume she’s died in some appropriately romantic way, like from consumption or from blood-poisoning - whatever).

Whether you’ve grown up on the Disney version, or one of the hundreds of novels and illustrated books, the story of “Beauty and the Beast” remains fundamentally similar. A useless father trades/accidentally gifts/is tricked into giving his lovely youngest/only daughter, Belle, (very “King Lear” – you always lose Cordelia and can never palm off the Regan or Goneril equivalent, can you?) to the ultimate symbol of unrestrained, brutal masculinity: The Beast.

However, before truly analysing the gendered power relations of this particular fairytale, let’s back track a bit. I was inspired to write about “Beauty and the Beast” because of the thumping-great rich velvety roses that have been growing alongside my driveway. I picked some of said roses (though I think the bush may actually be growing on my neighbours’ property... everyone loves a good bit of flower theft, right?) and kept them on my desk in an attempt to a) feel like Belle/resolve some latent wannabe-princess fantasy and b) to actually lure me to my fantastic smelling desk so that I might feel inclined to study. Big yay – I achieved both objectives. Unfortunately, I didn’t actually take a photo of these magnificent roses (yes, I’m still very new to this blogging thing) – this is a photo of a somewhat bedraggled bloom, which I took last week (try to imagine it dark, dusky red)...

So anyway, back to “Beauty and the Beast”. I think Disney’s interpretation is one of their most interesting films, least of all because Belle is dark haired (opposed to blonde), likes to read, and unusually, her journey isn’t about escaping from an archetypal jealous stepmother/evil sea-witch/evil sorceress or a combination of the above.* For once, in a Disney fairytale, the female protagonist doesn’t have to struggle against a female antagonist (think Cinderella and her horrible stepsisters and stepmother, Ariel and Ursula, aforementioned sea-witch or even Briar Rose from Disney’s fundamentally flawed “Sleeping Beauty” (she only sleeps for 20 minutes, people!) who has to contend with the sexy, wicked Malevolent. Belle, on the other hand, only has to take on male adversaries.

This is where the gendered power relations of “Beauty and the Beast” become particularly fascinating - Belle has to overcome men. In the Disney version, her first antagonist is the hunter Gaston who embodies ideal form of hegemonic masculinity: he’s big, buff, tough and is utterly repugnant to her. Similarly, Belle’s second antagonist also embodies a clear form of brute, physical masculinity – he’s the Beast who snarls, tears things apart, and generally behaves like a bit of a drunk footballer. Therefore, Belle’s story is not about being rescued by chisel-feature princes, rather, she rejects and has to take on them on. For Belle, though Gaston appears to be the archetypal “beautiful” chiseled prince, his character is actually corrupted and, in the end, turns out to be far more truly “beastly” than the actual Beast.

So back to the Beast. When Belle winds up with him, he is softened, returned to his much-less interesting-than-when-he-was-a-beast princely form. Really, his masculinity is reduced when compared with his hegemonically masculine Beast-form. This change in masculinity is due to Belle, in all her nerdy, bookish and porridge-sipping ways. The story of Beauty and the Beast is perhaps, therefore, about the rejection of traditional masculine stereotypes. Rather, it questions typical masculinity and advocates giving agency and power to the unusual female heroine. For that, I think, it’s tops.

Anyway, if you want to immerse yourself in some interesting (non Disney or picture book) versions of Beauty and the Beast, author Robin McKinley has written two great Beauty and the Beast inspired novels: “Rose Daughter” and “Beauty: A Retelling of the Story of Beauty and the Beast”. “Rose Daughter” in particular takes a much less conventional approach to how Belle deals with the physical form of the Beast.

-- Esther xx

* Plus she also has seriously bitchin’ ball gowns.