VIFF: Day 9

Good Morning to the World (2010)
Hirohara Saturo
Japan

The young age of this first time director (23-years-old) is just one thing that makes Good Morning to the World impressive. Although Hirohara Saturo is obviously using a level of production available to him, he is nonetheless able to tap out a unique form to a familiar story. Takahashi is a teenager who is at the age where he would be rebelling against his parents. That is, if his parents were around. Takahashi lives with his mother, but her presence is minimal. He seem not only apathetic about the situation, but also quite comfortable. His curiosity about the world, however, is a task that he takes on himself with a naive voyeurism. When he finds some clues about a dead homeless man, he decides to blindly investigate. What he discovers on his journey is his own limitations and failings, both mentally and emotionally. Takahashi is played by actor Koizumi Yoichiro and portrayed by director Hirohara with nary a sign of self-consciousness or ironic cynicism. The honesty and confidence of this first feature caught the eye of the Dragons & Tigers jury and was given the Award for Young Cinema for this year's festival. Good Morning to the World has technical limitations but is an incredible creative achievement for the young crew.


Surviving Life (2010)
Jan Svankmajer
Czech Republic

I've been a Svankmajer fan since I saw Alice in 1989 at the Tivoli Theater in Kansas City. My dedication was sealed with Little Otik, but recent years with Svankmajer have been rough going. His 2005 Lunacy was a painful study in cynicism and misanthropy that couldn't even be saved by his imaginative animation. Surviving Life doesn't fair too much better. Full of academic nods and winks, the film follows Eugene down an Oedopal spiral of addictive dreams and suppressed memories. It is tedious, to say the least. Unfortunately, it is made worse by Svankmajer's own preamble in the film: an apology (also full of nods and winks) that the lack of a budget requires animating photographs rather than hiring actors. I love the look of the film, full of Svankmajer's trademark weirdness and animation, and regret that the filmmaker finds it necessary to make excuses for it.


The Strange Case of Angelica (2010)
Manoel de Oliveira
Portugal/Spain/France/Brazil

It feels unfair to write about a filmmaker with such a wide oeuvre without having much grounding in it, but that's the way it goes.The first thing to reconcile with the fastidiously shot The Strange Case of Angelica is that director, Manoel de Oliveira, will soon turn 102. The second is the film's unnerving and timeless beauty that feels almost fragile. Isaac (played by de Oliveira's grandson Ricardo Trepa) is a young photographer who is urgently called to a wealthy estate to take one last photograph of the recently passed young Angelica. Angelica and the image she renders in the camera haunt Isaac into insomnia and obsession. The Strange Case of Angelica is an homage to the art of the photograph. Entirely made up of still camera work, it explores classic composition with unsettling elegance. A touch of the supernatural comes off a little sophomoric, but it is minor compared to the exquisite bulk of this film.


L.A. Zombie (2010)
Bruce LaBruce
Germany/USA

Let me just say it: L.A. Zombie, infamously banned and ostracized, is getting way too much attention. Without a doubt, it has been the worst 63 minutes of the Festival and I really can't imagine why this is getting programmed around the globe. It's only as subversive or interesting as seeing a porn at a major film festival. We watch a hulked up zombie man walk around L.A. sticking his Zombie stuff into dead people's newly formed holes. This magical experience resurrects the corpse every time and then zombie man moves on and does it again. Overly conscious of its poor craft, L.A. Zombie is a ridiculous exercise of genre bending and an even more ridiculous exercise for the audience. Midnight movie experience over.

VIFF: Day 8

Merry-Go-Round (2010)
Yan Yan Mak and Clement Cheng
Hong Kong

Gallants might be the Clement Cheng film that everyone is talking about, but the Vancouver native also has a second 2010 film, Merry-Go-Round. Co-directed with up-and-coming female director Yan Yan Mak, Merry-Go-Round passes on parody and laughs in favor of humanism and drama. The film cleverly combines four individuals, two generations and two continents into a story about immigration and emigration. The film opens in San Francisco where Eva (played by 70s kung fu star Nora Miao) is a traditional Chinese doctor and Nam is a young lost soul looking for herself. The two of them both make the trip to Hong Kong to deal with unfinished business. Nam lands a job in a a coffin depository that is overseen by Hill (played by the Gallant crowd-please Teddy Robin Kwan). Eva returns to her father's herbal medicine shop to persuade her nephew, Fung, not to sell the family property. Eventually the storyline draws the four of them together in somewhat unexpected ways but with somewhat expected results. Mak and Cheng earn huge marks for the casting of Kwan and Miao, the latter an icon that has seen little screen time in the last 30 years. Cheng, tipping his hand as the kung fu fan that Gallants proves him to be, has one very satisfying scene where Eva gives her nephew the kind of smackdown that she was doing in films like Fist of Fury. Merry-Go-Round champions an independent feel that is rare in Hong Kong film, but unfortunately much of the drama suffers from the incessant pop-infused soundtrack. Rising stars in the field, Clement Cheng and Yan Yan Mak are two to watch.


The Fourth Portrait (2010)
Chung Mong-hong
Taiwan

Chung Mong-hong is yet another discovery, at least for me, from Taiwan. Although The Fourth Portrait is only his second feature, it's enough of a standout to chase down his first feature, Parking. The Fourth Portrait is inventively paced and beautifully shot. Xiang is ten years old and his father has just died. It rests upon his shoulders to go home and find his father's nicest suit and his best photograph. Unable to find a photo, Xiang produces the first portrait that sets up the film's modest narrative drive. Although it is clear that we will see three more portraits drawn by Xiang, they turn out to be unusual signposts in his journey. While the narrative moves forward, Chung switches the gears ever-so-slightly so that The Fourth Portrait feels fresh. Xiang is left to fend for himself until he is caught stealing food by a stern but caring janitor who takes Xiang under his wing. Suddenly the path for where the film is going is clear. Not quite. The film shifts: Xiang's mother is found and is taking him to her home where she has a new husband and newly born child. Once again, the film seems to settle into a groove, but wrong again. Xiang is the befriended by an older hang-about who only seems to be good at petty crime. Chung does this a few more times slowly working its way through Xiang's four portraits. Make no doubt about it, The Fourth Portrait is a coming of age story, but one told with inventive spirit and sophistication.


The Ugly Duckling (2010)
Garri Bardin
Russia/France

Garri Bardin's stop-motion animation of the much loved parable is at the very least a joy to watch. The creative character designs and slightly socialist connotation brings something totally new to the tale. The diabolical ducklings and the alien-headed goslings never failed to get a chuckle out of me. The operatic over-the-top score, however, is as pummeling as the relentless oppression of our poor ugly little duckling. There's an overwhelming cynicism to this adaptation that felt unnecessary.

Gallants (2010)
Derek Kwok and Clement Cheng
Hong Kong

So glad I got to see extremely fun film on the big screen in a packed house. Gallants is a loving homage to the kung fu films from the 60s and 70s ala Shaw Brothers and Bruce Lee. Clement Cheng this time aligns himself with Derek Kwok, someone he has worked with before as a screenwriter and who is breaking out onto the Hong Kong scene. In a sleepy part of Hong Kong, a helpless young man by the name of Leung has been sent to settle a property dispute. On his route he is bullied by a little kid, who Leung in turn bullies only to get bullied by the kid's father. A passerby takes pity on Leung and stops the very uneven fight. The selfless hero turns out to be the be the aging but legendary Tiger. Tiger and his fellow martial arts brother Dragon have been quietly holding vigil over their master, Law, who has been in a coma for 30 years. Old rivalries ignite as well as the fighting passion within Leung as master Law miraculously awakes to his biggest challenge yet! The brilliance of Gallants is not only in the overt style that Kwok and Cheng chooses to parody with great wit, but also in its cast. The trio of old-timers—Bruce Leung, Chen Kuan-tai and Teddy Robin Kwan—deliver more charisma than seems fair for one movie. Clement Cheng himself must be a creative force to be reckoned with, working on projects as diverse as Gallants and Merry-Go-Round. Gallants is not going to move mountains, but it sure is a raucous romp and a must see for any fan of the genre.

Rubber (2010)
Quentin Dupieux
France/USA

Rubber is occasionally very clever, occasionally very funny, occasionally overly self-conscious and occasionally too redundant. A movie within a movie (but more importantly, an audience watching an audience), Rubber tells the tale of a rogue tire—abandoned in the desert and gaining a taste for blood (or more accurately gaining a taste for blowing things up with its tire-mind.) The introduction to the film comes from a police officer who pops out of the trunk of a car to explain that things in movies happen for no reason. Why is E.T. brown? No reason. Why do the two people in Love Story fall madly in love? No reason. Why does a complete stranger assassinate the president in JFK. No reason. And so it goes. Most things happen in Rubber for—you guessed it—no reason, and for almost half the film it is interesting. Rubber is very strange and it doesn't really work overall, but compared to the other midnight film (L.A. Zombie which I will get to in my next update), Rubber looks like a masterpiece.

Portugal takes the prize! VIFF: Day 2

Although I missed two screenings I planned on attending (High Life because of time; 13 Assassins because of, well, mass popularity), Mysteries of Lisbon more than made up for it. My paltry thoughts below don't come close to doing the film justice, but I will hopefully return to it later. (Although 13 Assassins screens one more time, it is up against a 6 hour mainland Chinese film that I may never get a chance to see again. 13 Assassins has been picked up by Magnet and will be released early next year.)

Of Love and Other Demons (2010)
Hilda Hildalgo
Costa Rica/Colombia

I first have to admit only a passive interest in Gabriel García Márquez and that I have never read Of Love and Other Demons. That being said, I can totally understand the draw to adapt Gabo's novels into films. The images of languid Latin exoticism and eroticism make for very cinematic possibilities. Hilda Hildalgo attempts to tap into this, but butted up against Mysteries of Lisbon in my viewing schedule, Of Love and Other Demons feels academic and lifeless despite its beauty. Sierva (otherwise just referred to as "the girl" or "the child") is a first generation white Colombian who is comfortable with the native cultures, flora and fauna. Her parents and other figures of authority, however, have an antagonism toward their place of immigration—a fact that has stained almost every example of European exploration and expansion. Sierva is burdened with an unearthly beauty marked by her long curly red hair and fair complexion. So when she is bitten by a rabid dog, the local Catholic authority deems her possessed and locks her in a cell. The young priest sent to 'fight for her soul' slowly finds himself attracted to the young beauty and must deal with his own demons. Of Love and Demons sets up a perfect triangle of colonial tension between the politicians, the church and the natives. But the passion, such as it is, is too poised even for the the puritanical folks. Of Love and Demons is certainly nice to look at but fails to draw on any emotions.


Mysteries of Lisbon (2010)
Raúl Ruiz
Portugal/France

Even though a 4 1/2 hour period drama sounds like a total snoozer, I really couldn't resists fitting this into my schedule given the glowing reports coming from Toronto and knowing that this would probably be my only chance to see it theatrically. I'm glad I did. Mysteries of Lisbon is somehow able sustain narrative drive with subtlety and the good old fashioned art of storytelling. The story spirals out like a kaleidoscope with a cast of characters who are all connected to young João. João is an orphan plagued with not knowing the identity of his mother or his father, but slowly and methodically, Ruiz reveals one character after another that surround him. And with each new character comes a new story and a new mystery—each one more fascinating and richly detailed than the previous (or at least the film creates the level of engagement to make it seem so.) Despite its theatrical historic setting, Mysteries of Lisbon oozes with robust life and earthbound humanity that includes an original score that accentuates, but doesn't overpower, the drama. You hate to see João grow older, because you know that eventually this experience (that magically balances the cerebral with the emotional) must come to an end. Although the ending feels like a sever between film and audience, finality is announced with yet another mystery, this one more metaphysical, resting on the conscience of the viewer. I have no idea about the novel from which this film is adapted, but if it is half as extraordinary as the film, someone should translate it!


Get Out of the Car (2010)
Thom Andersen
USA
preceded by
The Indian Boundary Line (2010)
Thomas Comerford
USA

From a logistical standpoint these two non-narrative shorts seem like perfect companion pieces (and unless my eyes deceived me—also possible—I think they shared some crew members.) Unfortunately Thomas Comerford's meditation on a now-obscured Indian Treaty boundary is overly pedantic and failed to have any of the lyricism of Thom Andersen's work. The Indian Boundary Line is a landscape film that explores the context of a portion of American history that is becoming more and more concealed. Unfortunately it failed to engage me either on an intellectual or visual level and felt about 20 minutes too long. On the flip side, it allowed Andersen's Get Out of the Car to immediately feel more joyful and full of life, even if it is a minor film compared to Los Angeles Plays Itself. Clocking in at just over a half an hour, Get Out of the Car explores the dilapidations and appropriations of signage and murals in the LA area combined with an ingenious mixture of music and narration. And while Andersen's structural film has a point, it still maintains an expressive buoyancy.