Quick review: THE FRONT LINE (World Cinema Showcase)

The Front Line is a Korean film set in the dying months of the Korean War and is a film that has taken a lot of obvious influence from Western war films, particularly the World War II films of Hollywood. It has a knowledge of the genre tropes and the typical characters that populate a film such as this. It goes big, bombastic and with a clear obvious message at it's heart.

My knowledge of the actual war itself is incredibly sketchy, something I should really rectify. But any sense of history isn't really required, as the film takes place during the protracted negotiations to end the war; negotiations that have dragged on for years. South Korean CIC Officer Kang Eun-pyo is dispatched to a post on the front line - a sad, dirty camp that has fought with the North Korean army over a single shitty hill for far too long. One day the South Koreans have the hill. The next, the North. The day after it's back with the South. This has gone one for months. At the camp Eun-pyo (who, from what I could gather, is some sort of MP) finds his friend Kim Soo-hyeok, who he thought was MIA years ago. Soo-hyeok has been aged by the war into a hardened, bad-ass officer making his way up the ranks by attrition.

Eun-pyo doesn't really do much in the way of investigating reports of a camp mole, but instead serves as the outsider whose eyes we see these beaten soldiers through. They're a close-knit group but allow Eun-pyo and the fresh-faced new recruit he brought with him into their fellowship. Less welcome is the new CO; he's from the school of ignorant, pompous braggart of Movie Officer Training School.

The bulk of the film is taken up with various excursions to and from the hill, battles that win it and battles that lose it. Also hiding in the surrounding countryside is a North Korean sniper nicknamed "Two Seconds" by the poor bastards that come under fire. But within all this brutal warfare there are moments of shared humanity - a hidey-hole where soldiers from both sides swap notes, booze and cigarettes. It becomes an exhausting watch, getting a little bogged down in the constant fighting and sense of tension but makes up with a couple of unseen turns (or, at least, unseen for the time they happen at).

The final third is where The Front Line really, painfully hits its mark: after yet another painful assault peace is finally declared. But, due entirely to a stupid bureaucratic fuck-up, the higher-ups on both sides decide there's still 12 hours left to fight of this devastating war. It's a kick to the guts for the characters and the audience. And director Hun Jang really uses the time to hammer his point home: what, exactly are they all fighting for? None of the poor grunts slugging it out on the front lines know. Who the war doesn't kill it utterly destroys.

This is very much a Korean tale to be told and I'm glad it was told by Koreans and for Koreans. Despite the obvious influence of their filmmaking style, the American (and UN) forces barely make any sort of appearance.

Quick review: MARGARET (World Cinema Showcase)

Famously delayed, Kenneth Lonergan's Margaret makes it to NZ courtesy of the World Cinema Showcase, after an incredibly minimal release in the States.

Anna Paquin's Lisa Cohen and her reaction to witnessing and being part of deadly bus accident is the focus of this long-in-post film. It is the examination of a precocious and self involved teenager who is involved in an horrific and deadly accident - both as an observer and cause - and struggles to comprehend and move on from it; it is a film almost tangentially focussed on the aftermath of 9/11 in America and New York (filming as it did in 2005, just 4 years after those attacks).

The cast is one of outstanding quality. Paquin is given the opportunity to really do something special here and she grabs it with both hands and tears into it. Lisa Cohen is not an easy person to know, or even a very likeable one; she's in many ways a typical teenager arguing with her mother, flirting with the cute teacher and she carries a fierce intelligence, her speech often hyper-articulate. But she is, at heart, still a teenage girl more lost than she even knows. As she struggles with her own sense of guilt she throws herself into the lives of the accident victim's friends, berates the police and charges forward with a lawsuit in her struggle to accept and share the responsibility.

Surrounding her are Matt Damon, Jean Reno, Matthew Broderick and Mark Ruffalo. Though all of their parts, at least in this cut, are minimal they all make an impression. And doing impressive work as Lisa's mother and her mother substitute are J. Smith-Cameron and Jeannie Berlin. As the film is equally about Lisa and her mother and the woman who becomes something of a mother substitute for Lisa. It is a film of people talking; talking at and too one another, people yelling at one another, people arguing and being disappointed in one another. 

It is also a film about New York, with the camera often taking to wandering the skyline or watching the traffic passing on rain soaked streets. There is something almost Terrence Malick-like about the way Lonergan captures the city that never sleeps. There is beauty in the city, in addition to ominous images of air-planes and helicopters flying through or near the city.

It's a messy, shaggy, oblique and occasionally frustrating film. But then so is life and that's rather the point. Yes, you could lock Lonergan back in the editing room (or out) and cut a storyline here, cut a storyline there, nip & tuck a few things and make Margaret a stream-lined film about one thing and one thing only, but then that would really be taking away a large part of what makes Margaret special. It's flawed and one of those films that is kinda great because of those flaws. 

Quick review: CORIOLANUS (World Cinema Showcase)

You gotta give Ralph Fiennes credit for the size of his balls. Not only does he make his directorial debut adapting Shakespeare, but he does so with one of the Bard's lesser known plays and one that has never previously been filmed. That takes chutzpah.

One of Shakespeare's tragedies, Coriolanus is set in ancient Rome. The title character is a gung-ho general in the army, happy to charge into fierce battle with his men and with a prideful disdain for the common citizens. Events take a turn for the worse when Coriolanus is pimped up for a place on the Senate and two slippery types decide to turn the people against him. He is banished from the city; from the home he has fought and bled for and surrenders himself to the city's great enemies, to help them overthrow the Roman people. Through prideful vengeance he turns on the people of his home and visits ruination upon them.

So, it is a play with a lot to it; with a lot of meaty themes to chew over. And Fiennes updates the setting to modern times; to a modern Rome as an obvious stand-in for the United States. He makes ample use of CNN and "action-news" style cutaways to cover a lot of exposition. But where, say Baz Luhrmann invested his retelling of Romeo & Juliet with fizz and glam, Fiennes keeps things sombre.

Frankly, I've never really been a big fan of the Bard. Perhaps that is thanks to years of dreary high-school and University lectures and monotone recitations by students who don't understand the language. But in a film like Fiennes', and with the mouths of such skilful actors as Fiennes, Vanessa Redgrave and Brian Cox playing with the poetry, the language truly flows and lives.

I don't really know if the rest of the film does though. The story seems almost too big for the film. I know this will be seen as an impossible heresy by some, but I couldn't help thinking that this would have been better with the story used as a jumping-off point for a miniseries or TV series. In this way, the modern setting could be more fully embraced and there could be more time to delve into these characters and their lives. Coriolanus is not the most sympathetic character around - he is prideful, vengeful and full of contempt for those ordinary citizens who make up the masses but fight in no army. But there is much to intrigue about him - his anger is understandable, he has a domineering mother constantly pushing at him and he has little interest in parading himself and his wounds to "prove" his service to Rome. He is a complex and intriguing, but haughtily unsympathetic, tragic figure.

Coriolanus is an interesting adaptation that so very nearly works. And again, the sheer stones on that man Fiennes. 

Quick review: THE SWELL SEASON (World Cinema Showcase)

The small indie musical Once made waves around the world; I still vividly remember the impact it had on me at the time. A tale of deep, thwarted love the film still had a happy ending with the reportedly blossoming relationship between the two leads, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova.

They started seeing one another and touring with their band, the Swell Season. This documentary is a telling of these two people's lives after their phenomenal success (including an Oscar win for Best Original Song) and the strain in places on their relationship.

As they both struggle to redefine themselves in terms of their new-found fame they're also touring, being overwhelmed by fans and waking up in new cities. While Hansard, after years of struggling and working as a musician, seems to take to the exposure like an Irishman to whisky, Irglova finds herself struggling to maintain some sort of sense of identity. It's easy to forget how young she was (19-20) and how unlooked for the fame was. She never comes across as precocious or resentful, but intelligent about her own feelings about it. Which, unsurprisingly, Hansard simply doesn't understand.

At times it all feels a little voyeuristic as you watch this relationship, this relationship that seemed like such a real-life romantic fairytale (with music!), collapse in on itself. Footage from the road is interspersed with interviews and concerts. The interviews span a term of years with no clear indication given as to when or what stage of the relationship they're given. The clearest indicator of the intervening years is Hansard's shaggy hair and beard (or lack thereof). The bias, if any in the film, really leans more towards Hansard. There are interviews with his family (including his now deceased father) and more time spent with him and his backstory. Irglova is more generally defined in terms of how she relates to Hansard and his story.

I haven't revisited the film Once since I first saw it, and it may be some time before I do. The Swell Season was an interesting follow-up to the story, with a fair amount to recommend it, but I wonder how entirely necessary it was. 

Quick review: WOODY ALLEN - A DOCUMENTARY (World Cinema Showcase)

The director of How to Lose Friends & Alienate People and a number of Curb Your Enthusiasm episodes directs this entry in the American Masters series, this time focussed on the confrontational, hard-working, prolific, funny, maudlin, still working, nebbish, brand unto himself, Woody Allen. 

This nearly 3 hour long documentary covers the entirety of Allen's life, going back to his parents and grandparents. And while the film covers a lot of ground - from Woody's early writing days before moving into stand-up and then through to writing film and then directing - there are still a number of omissions. What about his actual first directorial effort, What's Up Tiger Lily? Or the voice work for Antz? Or the large number of films during the 90's and early 2000's that were just really no good?

It borders on hagiography - there is little dissent from the view that Allen is an unmitigated genius. While, yes, Allen is indeed an important cultural voice, to argue that he is without fault (as this documentary seems to) is ignorant at best and wilfully rewriting history at worst. But, there is little wonder this is the approach taken - this is for the American Masters series and there would little point in tearing down one of those masters. There are interviews with long-time collaborators, various actors, producing partners, agents and one or two ex-wives. Mia Farrow (and Soon-Yi at that) are notable by their absences. 

Perhaps you think I'm being too hard on the film or Allen. Perhaps so. I enjoy some of Allen's films; not everyone does. Allen is an intensely interesting figure, as much for what he says in his films as how he says it. While I certainly would have preferred a fuller picture of Allen the man and Allen the artist, the film does do well in following Allen through a 6 decade long career.  

World Cinema Showcase: OUR IDIOT BROTHER

The opening night film for this year's World Cinema Showcase was the very charming, very funny Paul Rudd starring Our Idiot Brother. As a film to open a film festival it's an interesting choice: a relatively unchallenging comedy with a cast of Hollywood A-listers. No serious-minded Swedes and their existential dread here thankyouverymuch.

And how thankfully refreshing it is. While it may not set the tone for the rest of the Showcase to follow, Our Idiot Brother is still an intelligent and engaging comedy about a well-meaning and aimless drifter affecting and disrupting the lives of his uptight sisters.

Paul Rudd is that brother and, frankly, the film had me within the opening moments. Rudd is sent to jail for selling pot to a uniformed officer and, while being far from an entirely smart thing to do he isn't entirely idiotic. He is simply a more open, more naive and optimistic character. And when Rudd leaves prison, shaggy hair and beard flowing with a large grin on his face I couldn't help but be enamoured. It is the rare person who doesn't like Paul Rudd; that nicest guys of nice guys in Hollywood. Coming home from prison, he no longer has a home on the organic farm he once worked on and so finds himself bunking at his mother's, before moving through his sister's accommodation and goodwill. 

Emily Mortimer is the eldest sister; the mother with two children who, with her distant English director husband, is trying to raise her children in a politically-correct molly-coddled way. Elizabeth Banks is the career focussed journalist who is in love-denial with the cute neighbour across the hall (Adam Scott). And Zooey Deschanel is the youngest of the female siblings, a bisexual stand-up comic currently involved with Rashida Jones' very cool lawyer. They live in some sort of communal loft/open apartment thing. Deschanel seems to playing the most against type of the three; she isn't the happy dreamer or "manic-pixie-dream-girl" that has become so associated with her, especially with her new (rather good) sitcom New Girl. 

The family is fractured and largely happy with that status quo. Or, if not happy, then at least settled into it. And Rudd just wanders through it all, the epitome of the well meaning doofus who stumbles into bad situations. He doesn't so much upset the apple-cart as set it on a collision course down the hill, chasing after it in his crocs and causing more damage than the actual cart.

The film is not without its flaws or moments of predictability but these quickly make way for the next joke or set-up. Our Idiot Brother is an intelligent comedy centred around the charming performance of Paul Rudd. In any number of actor's hand the character could have been more annoying than anything, but with Rudd's easy likeability he anchors the film around him and allows the audience to have a good time with him. 

Reviews at the Speed o' Light: SHAME, MILDRED PIERCE, IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT

This is first in what I assume will be an ongoing new feature here at rockets and robots are GO! With my primary focus for the year being my MA, I'm not going to have anywhere near the amount of time I would usually spend on writing up reviews for everything I see at the cinema. It's unfortunate, but the blog just cannot be my sole writing focus for the year. However, I am determined to keep this blog as something of an online journal of my cinematic viewings so, at the end of every month those films that I have yet to write up individually (usually retro or classic films) will be featured here.

To kick it off:

Poster design by Mark Carroll

Shame

British artist-turned-filmmaker Steve McQueen's Shame is a stark look at one man's addiction, the depths he sinks to and what it costs him. It doesn't pull punches and really doesn't shy away from showing anything and everything. And that is graphically shown in the first few minutes of the film with Michael Fassbender's Brandon wanders to and fro in his fancy apartment, absolutely starkers and yes, his cock in full view. 
But despite all of the nudity and the subject matter this is no erotic film. It is, in fact, entirely un-erotic, the sex and nudity being frank, matter-of-fact or entirely hollow and emotionless.

Brandon is a charming, well groomed and intelligent man with a job he seems to enjoy and is particularly good at. He has a nice enough apartment, no doubt expensive. He enjoys a drink with the lads. He is a sex addict. He picks up random women from bars or employs prostitutes. He spends his night's at home hollow-eyed and hunched over his laptop, surfing the internet for porn. He's not picky where he gets his fix from and, like most addicts, manages to keep it all secret from his boss and workmates.

This perfectly structured life of Brandon's is interrupted and thrown around by the arrival of his sister Cissy (Carey Mulligan), a singer who has decided to stay for an indefinite period of time. There is a lot of history between these characters hinted at, rather than spelled out. There is that sibling closeness, followed by Brandon blowing up at having to constantly "look after" Cissy.

McQueen allows scenes to run and run, the takes lingering and only cutting away when it becomes absolutely necessary. In this way, he allows the film to really get under your skin; to soak into you. The camera doesn't look away and, thus, neither can you. This long-take technique never becomes pretentious or allows itself to become a distraction to the viewer but instead is just another tool in McQueen's director's toolbox.

When you have a director who is using long-takes, it helps to people the film with actors who are really at the top of their game. Fassbender and Mulligan, two young British actors who have really broken out in the last couple of years, own the frames. Fassbender is an actor who projects and easy charm and charisma, as evidenced in Inglorious Basterds and as the globe totting Erik Lensherr in X-Men: First Class, and Shame is the first time I've witnessed that dark side he is capable of. 

Mildred Pierce
(Wellington Film Society screening)

The Film Society kicked off it's mini-season of noir films on 35mm with this Joan Crawford starring classic (recently remade with Kate Winslet in the title role). And thanks to the truly horrendous and spoilt daughter of the heroine, it was no less a difficult watch than Shame.

Mildred Pierce begins with a death. From there the story of how we reach that death is a tale told by Mildred to the cops. Mildred is a strong, independently-minded woman who has always wanted to do the best for her two daughters, especially eldest Veda. Poor Mildred is a woman used and abused by all the males close to her though; her cheating first husband, her close friend Wally and her lover/second husband Monte. They all use Mildred in different ways, the only half-way decent one being the cheating first husband Bert.

Michael Curtiz (Casablanca and the Errol Flynn starring The Adventures of Robin Hood) directs the screen legend as Mildred opens her own restaurant which becomes a flourishing chain. Veda sees the business as nothing more than money for her to buy things. This girl, this incomparable brat of a girl, is one of the most horribly selfish, materialistic and mean-spirited characters I've ever had the displeasure to witness. She truly cares not a whit for anyone or anything past herself and her own enjoyments. When Mildred finally whips round and slaps the hussy a well-deserved open right hand, I cheered.

A film that grips you rather than has you gripping the edge of your seat, the tale takes its twists and turns but is nowhere near as lurid (to modern eyes) as the advertising would have us believe. Instead Mildred is a strong woman in a man's world played by a strong woman in a man's world.

It Happened One Night
(Embassy Retro Showcase)

This is in fact the first Frank Capra film I've ever seen. Yup, including It's A Wonderful Life. Starring Claudette Colbert and Gone With the Wind's Clark Gable It Happened One Night puts modern romantic comedies to shame.

Colbert stars, luminously, as heiress Ellie who is, essentially, held under house(boat) arrest by her wealthy father. Actually, these opening moments, to modern eyes, give the feeling that this is going to be anything but a romantic comedy. More like a horrifying thriller.

But she escapes! Huzzah! Because she is in love with (and married to, though Daddy wants an annulment) Westley, who is in New York. Penniless but determined Ellie sets out from Florida to New York, travelling by bus. It is on the bus she bumps into Gable's drunken newspaperman, Peter Warne. He is a character of the age; an intelligent, charmingly drunk reporter of strong moral character(ish). He's a fast talker and a bit of a wise ass, though she's no slouch in that department either.

These two knock each other about cross-country, Warne looking out for the heiress who has little idea how the world works outside her sheltered life. And, surprise surprise, they find themselves falling in love. It's a light-hearted romp, with plenty of sparkling dialogue brought to life by two actors with a fine ear for it and actual chemistry together. 

28.11: SINGIN' IN THE RAIN

It seems somewhat appropriate that I would be talking about a 35mm presentation of Singin' in the Rain immediately after my post on 35mm projection vs. DCP. The print wasn't in the best shape - scratches and some audio drop-outs - but, especially with this film, it was less detracting and more a part of it. This special presentation of the classic Hollywood musical was the closing film for the Wellington Film Society's annual program and it was my first time ever watching it.

I know, this is a foolish tragedy on my part. But let me explain myself a little; this in no way acts as an excuse, merely explanatory detail. 

As a young teenage film fan, I was strikingly adverse to musicals. I thought them foolish, cheesy and old hat - I was far more enmeshed in sci-fi, action and anything else that seemed cool (and, often, explodey). Further putting me off was the pop-cultural prevalence of the lead song (and title), Singin' in the Rain - it was ever so much annoying background; a decades old song suffering from over exposure. Why the hell would I, an angsty, hormonal befuddled teenager desperate for peer approval, approach this film with a ten-foot pole?

Thankfully, I grew the heck up. I matured beyond my boring pretensions of discarding things I deemed to be "uncool" and instead opened myself up to enjoyment and new cinematic experiences (an ongoing process). And I'm glad that the first time I saw Singin' in the Rain it was in a cinema. Singin' in the Rain is pure, glorious, unashamed musical cinema.

It's an interesting trick of a film: a Technicolour MGM musical, about the early days of cinema and the move from silents to "talkies". Yep, it was a strange sense of surreal dislocation that set in around me as I sat in a cinema in 2011, watching a musical film made in 1952 set in 1927 at the end of the silent age and the dawn of the sound age. It was like "Old Hollywood" was looking back at "Old Hollywood" in some sort of bizarre mirror effect, reflecting it's light on to me in the now. Woah.

For all of that meta effect, the story is relatively simple: the end of the silent age in Hollywood. Gene Kelly is Lockwood, the male half of a popular duo, with Jean Hagen's ego-centric Lamont. It's lucky for her she became a star in the silent era, as she possesses one of the most comically annoying and horrible voices an actress could have. Unluckily for her, it's the end of the silent era. Kelly's Lockwood is a new star in the firmament, earning his stripes doing death-defying stunt work, something he had an aptitude for due to his rise from the vaudeville stage with his best pal, Don O'Connor's Cosmo (who gets the best routine in the film - the laugh out loud, knock down musical number Make 'em Laugh). So now the grounded and dashingly handsome Lockwood is paired with the shrewish and fragile egomaniac Lamont, who is quickly realising her shelf-life is getting shorter and shorter. As Lamont is on her way down, Debbie Reynolds' sweet and talented young actress, Kathy Selden is, thanks to Lockwood, on her way up. Events come to a head and there is much singing and dancing.

And boy, what dancing! This is joyous, big cheesy grins down the barrel of the camera, tap-dancing. Every single core cast member gives each dance number their all, whether it's O'Connor and Make 'em Laugh or Kelly in the eponymous Singin' in the Rain (and O'Connor had to be hospitalised and Kelly was running a fever). What Singin' in the Rain is, is a great big Hollywood musical love-letter to... great big Hollywood musicals. It's over-the-top, it's simplistic (in the best way possible) and a helluva lot of fun. If you haven't already seen this, do yourself a favour and don't be like me. And if you've only ever seen this on DVD or TV and there's a repertory showing in your town, or near your town, get to it. This is one of those bona-fide films that demand to be seen in a cinema, with an audience.

And yes, for my preference, on 35mm.

05.09: SANSHO THE BAILIFF (SANSHO DAYU)

Ok, so, yeah. It's been some time since I caught this film at a Film Society screening but I did have other pressing business to attend to.

Set in medieval Japan, a local governor is set into exile for standing up for his people. His family is forced out of the house and his wife and children set out to cross the country to reunite with him. However, they're set upon by slavers with the son and daughter (Zushio and Anju) being sent to the compound of the eponymous bailiff. Sansho is a cruel master, looking like an angry balding porcupine, whose own son helps the two new young slaves to survive. The brother and sister adopt new names and survive a grueling life under the "care" of Sansho. Years pass - the two siblings are now young adults. Anju is still hopeful they will one day find their mother, while Zushio has all but given up and resigned himself to the life of a slave. But Anju manages to convince Zushio to escape, whereupon he sets about trying to right the wrongs that brought about the family's downfall and to also reconnect with his parents. Of course, things don't go all that well and everything ends rather tragically. 

Sansho the Bailiff is what I would call an intimate epic - a story covering years, if not decades, and sweeping up huge social changes in its wake while telling the tale of but one family. There are moments of beauty to be found within, even if the tragedy is somewhat predictable at every turn. Whether that's due to the film concerning itself more with the journey than the destination or an increased awareness of story-telling construction, I'm not entirely certain. Unfortunately the sound was often piercing, with many a high wailing threatening to burst ear drums in the cinema - more the fault of the DVD than the film itself, but these matters of presentation, well, matter.

Honestly, to really give you a proper examination of the film I would have to watch it again - it has been some time since I saw it and the sound issue was often distracting when I was watching it. And dammit, I'm annoyed at this cop out, but I'd rather post something honest here than try and flub my way through. What I can tell you is that Sansho the Bailiff is flawed, sometimes beautiful, dramatic and, yes, an intimate epic.

13.08: TYRANNOSAUR (NZIFF)

Fuck Paddy Considine. As if it wasn’t enough to be an acclaimed dramatic actor, he then has to go and prove his comedy chops by stealing Hot Fuzz out from under Pegg & Frost and now, the gods sod ‘im, he’s directed a powerful, compelling and unflinching debut feature film. What a prick.

Considine has not taken the typical easy route for his feature film debut. When a lot of first-time directors are cutting their teeth on genre or comedy fare, Considine has instead plumped for a real, emotionally intense dramatic film. It is a remarkably strong film anchored by two incredible central performances. Peter Mullan is Joseph, a man with anger and violence in his heart; the opening scene has him kicked out of a bar and kicking his dog to death in a drunken rage. He’s spiraling down towards his own inevitable destruction, when he finds Christian op-shop worker Hannah (Olivia Coleman). Their first exchange is terse and devastatingly blunt from Joseph’s side, but he comes back obviously seeking something – redemption? To turn his life around? And while he believes Hannah is nothing more than a tourist from her better life, with the perfect house in an upper-middle class suburb, the reality of her situation is even darker than his. Her husband is an abusive, vindictive sleazebag and Eddie Marsan, with his curly hair and boyish face, has something cold and cruel behind his eyes.

Considine doesn’t pull any of his punches with the reveal of Hannah’s life, or events in Joseph’s. Joseph is not an entirely sympathetic character, but you can see something in him and Mullan (probably better known for his role as Yaxley in Harry Potter) is a truly magnetic presence. He’s rough and hard with devastating insults rolling off his Scottish brogue like water down a mountain; his violence isn’t just in his fists. But there’s something better hiding beneath it all. Coleman, who I know better as the double-entendre loving police-lady-officer from Hot Fuzz, is quietly compelling as a woman hiding a life of fear and hurt beneath a cheery exterior. It’s a role that could have easily been a cliché, but Coleman and Considine are no idiots and bring Hannah to crushed, breathing life. When she breaks down, Coleman does it with such raw, naked and brutal emotion it quite literally (actually!) shook me.

Considine has brought a maturity and confidence that you may not expect from a first-time feature but, if you know anything about his previous work, it can hardly be a surprise. And, after some of the recent films I saw at the Festival, it was a pleasure to have a low budget, debut feature film with thoughtfully constructed shots and a camera that doesn’t jitter and shake all over the place. Tyrannosaur is a brave, mature film with a strong enough story that it doesn’t need these cheap, distracting camera tricks to make it seem more “real”.

11.08: TERRI (NZFF)

Terri is one of those films from the Festival that I am really unsure about what to say as it made very little impact on me, for good or ill. Whether it was because I was becoming tired of “indie” films or films with no resolution (oh gods, I was almost gasping for a three-act Hollywood explosion. Isn’t that kinda terrible?) or if it was merely because my expectations for Terri did not match up with what was on screen… but it all just washed over me.

Terri is our loner, outsider hero. He’s a big kid and seems to give little thought to helping his popularity situation at high school – he wears pyjamas to school and appears to have zero friends. He lives with his mentally deteriorating uncle and is pulled up by the vice-principal (John C. Reilly) for weekly "chats". The VP is almost as much of an outsider as Terri, though all grown up and trying to reach out to these kids now. Terri also has a crush on the pretty, blonde girl in his Home Economics class. She’s one of the “beautiful people” and seemingly as far away from Terri as it is possible to get. However, she’s ostracised by her peers and falls in with Terri (and his new misfit friend) after she’s caught being fingered by her douchebag boyfriend in class. Of course, the boyfriend receives no punishment for it, even though she was against the idea and was facing expulsion. Terri saves her from expulsion, and she and the big lug get close.

For all of that, the film just elicited very little reaction from me. I felt as if I was being put at a remove from the characters and action. And like I’ve said, it may not be the films’ fault. By this stage of the Film Festival I was reaching saturation point and would only be brought back by a collection of really rather incredible films. Luckily, I had the next few days…

11.08: POINT BLANK (NZFF)

It came as little surprise to discover Point Blank, a French thriller about an ordinary man doing extraordinary things for his wife, was from the same director as Pour Elle (Anything for Her), Fred Cavaye. I still haven't managed to lay my eyeballs on that quite regarded film (remade by Paul Haggis as The Next Three Days) but after my experience with Point Blank, I am quite looking forward to. 

Point Blank is, quite simply, nothing more nor less than a cracking action thriller looking to take its audience on a ride. That it is so well made with no higher pretensions is refreshing a change. Things open with a life-or-death chase through the streets of Paris - one man being chased, two intimidating thugs chasing. It's a job gone wrong and is a great way to get the audience hooked within the first few minutes. But things calm down when we meet our main character: Gilles Lellouche is hospital attendant Samuel. He's studying to become a nurse and he and his wife are expecting their first child. She's in a delicate condition, supposed to be taking it easy for the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Which is, yes, beginning to lay it on a bit thick. Our man from the opening minutes ends up in the hospital where Samuel works. It's Sam's dumb luck that he has this man in his ward; because of this injured man Sam's pregnant wife is kidnapped and he is to break the mystery man out if he ever wants to see her again.

It's an effective set-up and Cavaye keeps the action tense and the twists coming, without overselling them (for the most part). The twists feel less like annoying reversals for the sake of it and more like new layers of danger being layered on the poor bastard caught up in this mess. Lellouche is a perfectly rumpled and distressed protagonist, not a superhuman Jason Bourne-type but more John McClane (from the first Die Hard in any case). There's danger, intrigue, violence, footchases, corrupt cops and, at the centre of it all, a frightened married couple trying to find each other. The coda in the final few minutes is perhaps a step too far, tying things up a little too neatly but for the majority of it's runtime Point Blank is a cracking time at the movies.

10.08: MARTHA MARCY MAY MARLENE (NZIFF)

Making her feature film debut (and proving there is some acting talent in the Olsen gene pool after all) Elizabeth Olsen anchors this quietly devastating exploration of a damaged young woman.

Shying away from the tween friendly Mary-Kate and Ashley multi-billion dollar brand as far as possible, Olsen stars as the eponymous heroine; a recent escapee from a self-sufficient cult controlled by the menacing Patrick (John Hawkes from Winter’s Bone). We first see her as she escapes from the farm where the cult is situated, as fellow cult members enter the woods, racing after her and crying out “Marcy May!” – a name we will quickly learn was given to her by Patrick as a way of divorcing her from her previous life. Her given name is Martha and she makes it in to town. She’s distressed and frightened but manages to call her sister Lucy who comes and picks the shaken young Martha/Marcy May up. The film is then, essentially, Martha trying to mentally escape the cult and "Marcy May".

The narrative plays out across two timelines: Martha recuperating at the newlywed Lucy's (Sarah Paulsen in a rare dramatic role) summer house with her husband Ted (Hugh Dancy) and Marcy May's life in the cult. This chronological cross-cutting lends the film a unique tension as events in the past lead to echoes in the present. Hawkes is a wiry and intense presence as the calm but twisted cult leader, sensing the kids' vulnerability and using it to control them. Martha is an obviously lost soul before she even stumbles into life in the cult and post-escape she is a fragile, volatile presence in her sister's and husband's lives. She's almost naive about the world again, no longer conforming to societal norms as she has lived apart from it for so long. Olsen is the centre of the entire film; the fulcrum around which everything else turns and she totally owns it. It is a raw, uncompromising role and Olsen is quietly brave without being flashy or "actorly" and you can't help but feel concern for this damaged and used girl. 

Director Sean Durkin lets the film take its time playing out; allowing the horror of Martha's experience soak into you, teasing backstory and details out and building the tension between the sisters as Lucy and Ted struggle to deal with the changed Martha. Martha Marcy May Marlene is an understated film, working its way under your skin and is the type of film that sits with you for awhile afterwards. An impressive, deftly handled debut feature film from Durkin and quite the announcement for Elizabeth Olsen.

09.08: THE GIANTS (NZIFF)

The Giants (or Les geants) is one of those films that I look forward to every year at Film Festival: the surprises. The programme described this as a "social-realist Stand By Me" which, to be honest, made me cautious. But this French/Belgian film from director Bouli Lanners was a delicate joy.

Two brothers in their early teens, Zak and the older Danny, are dropped at their (deceased) grandfather's house for the summer as their mother takes off around the world on business. Being young boys they get up to a bit of mischief, taking off for a joyride in their granddad’s car. Coming across Seth on the way back, the three boys get high together and become fast friends. However, Seth is constantly menaced by his fucked-up and crazy older brother and it's not long before the paltry amount of money runs out for Zak and Danny. They're left with little to no options and end up with the short end of a deal to rent out their grandfather's house to a local drug dealer.

Intense fodder for heavyweight drama, yes? Well, yes and no. Lanners gifts the narrative a certain amount of delicacy and everything is shot through with an almost idyllic view that helps stop the film descending into arthouse drudgery. The film is anchored admirably by the three young leads; all of them just boys being boys, hanging out together over summer, getting up to mischief, arguing, laughing and struggling. These are boys with the weight of the world coming down on their shoulders; Danny, being the older brother, tries to watch out for Zak as the younger boy texts their mother, hoping for some caring or connection that will never come. Danny is never a spare wheel or annoyance; instead he becomes another brother to these uncared for siblings even as he tries to escape from his own. Things continue to spiral but the boys stick together, come mishap or mischief. It is particularly telling, I felt, that all but one adult screws them over in the course of the film.

Les geants moves at its own unhurried, but never dragging, pace as the trio end up in deeper trouble than they ever thought possible. It was an unlooked for delight and a wee gem of a film. Smaller in scope, perhaps, than Rob Reiner’s Stand By Me but also far more dangerous.

09.08: HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN (NZIFF)

The Rutger Hauer starring Hobo With A Shotgun is, frankly, not something I ever expected to see in a cinema. Jason Eisener's feature length adaptation of his own winning Grindhouse trailer is the type of film you expect to find in a grimy, somewhat dodgy and dark video rental store. It's brutal, insane, graphic and lurid. And I kinda loved it. 

Hauer is the eponymous hobo, riding into town on a rail-car. Little can he suspect though that he is entering Hell itself. Or at least, as close as these crime ridden streets can make it. The Hobo is a man with a simple wish: to own a lawnmower. It's a strange, simple dream but it's his. However, he has to survive the villainous crimelord Drake that rules the streets and his two douchebag evil sons; Slick and Ivan. He takes Abby, a young streetwalking woman he sees as something better, under his crazy wing and ends up unleashing swift, shotgun based vengeance upon the streets. 

Hobo With a Shotgun is a film that really doesn't hold anything back. Eisener goes all out here, throwing dark crazy paint on his celluloid with abandon and lashing in heinously bright colours that sicken and obfuscate. You've got to respect someone who's willing to take it that far. And Hauer is right there with him, amping up the crazy and chewing scenery like a starving, well, hobo. He's the only recognisable actor in the piece and he attacks the role with gusto: there's madness, sadness and a boiling anger all locked up in this man and his shotgun is his release. 

And Hauer's not even the maddest thing in the film! The two asshole gangster sons are irredeemable sacks of weaselly bastard evil, the pair of them looking like bad-guy jock characters from a Revenge of the Nerds film. Drake's favoured method of execution involves a rope, a truck and a manhole cover with a hole in it just big enough for a neck. Then there's The Plague: two demon escapees from the post-apocalyptic world of Mad Max, they bring Hobo into a whole new realm of over-the-edge weirdness.

Even though Hobo With a Shotgun is a film that feels like you should be discovering in early adolescence on a worn VHS tape, I'm glad I got the chance to see it in the cinema. So, too, did a little old lady sitting a few rows behind me - I wouldn't have thought she was the target audience? Perhaps she was a Hauer fan. Or, perhaps, she just really, really wanted to see an over-the-top crazy hobo with a shotgun. I know I did. And it was a blast.

09.08: BEING ELMO (NZIFF)

In the first few minutes of this look into the life of Kevin Clash, the man behind Elmo, I was captured. I was taken back to that childhood joy and madcap hilarity and fun that were Jim Henson’s most famous creations. That’s the enduring power of the Muppets and like a lot of people around my age I was raised and influenced by the likes of Sesame Street and The Muppet Show.

Kevin Clash is one of those people; though somewhat older than I, being one of the first generation to watch Sesame Street. A black kid growing up in Baltimore, his interest and growing obsession with puppetry makes him stand out, but never derided. His parents are encouraging to the point of not blowing their stacks when he cuts up a coat for material and his popular puppet shows entertain the local kids. He’s soon appearing on local TV and, through his passion and determination, works his way up to Jim Henson’s workshop. From there, Clash has the opportunity to meet and work with the man himself and become a Muppeteer. He becomes the man to really give the life and personality to Elmo and then it all takes off. Elmo becomes a phenomenon and Clash works and works and works it.

This is a very surface documentary, entirely given over to the success of Clash and the phenomenon of Elmo. There is some time given to the work of Henson and the Muppets (something I would love to see a full length documentary on) but things like the breakdown of Clash’s marriage and the difficulty of being there for his daughter when he’s on the road with Elmo are barely given lip service. To me there’s a rich vein of drama and irony in the man behind Elmo, the Sesame Street character beloved by children the world over, being unable to be there for his own daughter. And, frankly, Being Elmo just made me hungrier to see a really great, in depth documentary on Henson himself.

But on the flipside, this documentary never sets out to uncover great secrets or hidden agendas; this is not a hard-hitting piece of investigative filmmaking asking the tough questions about big issues. This is something we have almost become accustomed to in our documentaries; it's become expected that there is some cover-up or dark secret in the background. There have been any number of brilliant docos investigating corporate and government malfeasance, lies leading us to war or miscarriages of justice. Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey is exactly what it says on the tin. There is no dark secret behind the furry red monster; just a young black guy who followed his passion and made good. And it says much about the power of Henson's creations that even despite any shortcomings in this documentary, I still wanted to run away and joing the Muppet circus. 

06.08: SONS OF PERDITION (NZIFF)

The documentary Sons of Perdition follows three young men (boys, really) who have escaped/been exiled from the Fundamental Latter-Day Saints in Utah. The three kids - Joe, Sam and Bruce - all try to adjust to life outside of "The Crick" (Colorado City) and the omnipresent influence of Warren Jeffs; the (recently incarcerated) "prophet" of the FLDS.

Life in the Church is strictly regimented and controlled - Jeffs has a say over every aspect of life there. No outside influence is allowed in - no books or magazines, no TV or movies - and people, especially the women, are very rarely allowed out. Actually, that's not entirely true: men are routinely exiled, as the FLDS practice polygamy (all overseen and controlled by Jeffs of course) and they need more women than they do men. The boys are often taken out of school - the FLDS school - and made to work. Made to work at construction sites, operating heavy machinery for example. They are kept cowed and ignorant, with the ever-present threat of exile hanging over them.

However, some decide to make a break from life in the Crick of their own accord and life is not that much easier on the outside. These three kids have been so sheltered, have had such little interaction with the outside world, they have no idea what the capital of the United States is or even that Catholics worship Jesus! As Joe, Sam and Bruce have previously been so sheltered and controlled (in addition to just being teenage boys) they go off the rails a little with drink, drugs and general stupidity. They're struggling to find their new place in the world and, oftentimes, have no concrete support; their families are all still in the Church and they have no place of residence so cannot attend school. The only people they tend to know are other exiles; some of these are willing to help with a place to stay and there are also social workers and a local philanthropist who takes them in but it is still a struggle.

The film is a tense and emotional affair, just by virtue of the subject matter and the three engaging boys. They may not know too much of the outside world, but they aren't entirely meatheads. Joe keeps working to try and extract his younger sister Hillary and his Mother from the cult. These two women are obviously desperate to escape but yo-yo back and forth after intimidation from Father. The authorities attempt to intervene in the case of Hillary but, as there is no evidence of physical abuse, are powerless to do anything. There are truly heartbreaking moments as Mother caves in and drags the 13 year-old Hillary back to the Crick, possibly to be married off to some up-and-comer in the Church.

Packed with emotional wallops but never trying to oversell itself Sons of Perdition joins Jesus Camp as a remarkably clear-sighted look into American religious cults. By focussing on three boys trying to find their way in this new world, with commentary and explanation of the FLDS from other older exiles directors Tyler Measom and Jennilyn Merten have crafted a remarkably effective documentary.

05.08: SHUT-UP LITTLE MAN! AN AUDIO MISADVENTURE (NZIFF)

Shut up Little Man! documents a cult phenomenon I had no previous awareness of. This was a pre-internet phenomenon, so it comes as no small surprise it never made it to these shores. Also, the fact that it was/is such a strange, niche thing could have something to do with it. In the late 80's, two young guys move to California and, with them being regular, young guys move into a shitty apartment with paper-thin walls. In the adjacent apartment live Peter and Ray; two old drunks who engage in profane shouting matches with one another. The two kids, "Eddie Lee Sausage" and "Mitch D", begin to record these obscenity-fuelled, high-volume exchanges; first as a "just in case something happens to us" and then quickly mutating into something else. The guys share the recordings with friends, include snippets of arguments in homemade mix-tapes (yes. Tapes) and generally spread them around. A pop culture sensation is born.

Portions of the recordings are dotted throughout the documentary and they are relatively funny, in a puerile sort of way. Ray is an unrepentant redneck homophobe, while Peter is a bitchy queen of the highest order. The fascination with their living arrangements is what drives a lot of the interest in the recordings, in addition to the actual content. But I just didn't get the hilarity of the recordings; perhaps it was because snippets were only ever parcelled out during the runtime, rather than a full recording ever being played.

As is generally the case, it's what happens after that is the most interesting. The recordings take on a life of their own - there are audio-nuts who hunt down the original tape recordings, there are comic strips illustrated around the recordings, there is even plays and, at one point, three separate films in development all based around the recordings of two drunks shouting at each other. And, of course, as the phenomenon gets bigger "Sausage" and "Mitch D" try and exert some sort of control over it - moving the tapes from copyright free, to copyrighted. That in of itself opens up a whole lot of legal questions, but it's really the questions around what is "art" and what the line is between "art" and exploitation that drove my thinking of the film. These two guys, who recorded their abusive neighbours without their consent (possibly without their knowledge - they noticed the first time, but they may have been too drunk to remember) are, more than 20 years later, still making money off them. The tussle between art and commerce is a fairly strong throughline even if the documentary itself is less interested in asking these questions and more interested in simply laying out the "behind the scenes" tales. 

Shut up Little Man! manages to cover a lot of ground for such a niche cult happening, if only it could have delved a little more into the effects and the questions that naturally arise. 

05.08: SPACE BATTLESHIP YAMATO (NZIFF)

I have no idea what the original cartoon show Space Battleship Yamato is based on is like, but the film was an utter disappointment. The situation is thus: in the far future, some sort of space-aliens by the name of the Gamilas have been laying waste to Earth by bombarding the planet with radioactive missiles. The survivors have fled underground, scavenging metal for the war effort. One such scavenger, an ex-fighter pilot, discovers a beacon from a place called Iskandar that offers a device to clean Earth of radiation. He signs up with the eponymous space battleship, for humanity's last ditch effort.

I was expecting a crazy-fun little bit of Japanese sci-fi, but what Space Battleship Yamato is instead is a cheap looking, poorly paced (and acted) bit of bad cheese. The over-riding feeling I got from the whole production was it being like a (slightly) bigger budgeted fan film. If only it had the charm and sense of fun a fan-film would have, it would have been forgiven a lot more. There was no passion, and that meant a lot. If there had been some sense of engagement, I could have easily forgiven any shoddy effects and over-wrought cheesiness thrown my way; I routinely do.

There are occasional bursts of noise and action but nothing that really stands out. The whole film is photographed in the flattest, least interesting way possible. There seems to have also been little thought given to the costumes and sets, the filmmakers instead choosing to ape the cartoon rather than try and bring it in to a "real-world" setting. And I say this having never seen the cartoon - the costuming just looks lazy, with the extent of military uniforms being snazzy leather jackets for all. It's a look that would work in animation but here just looks ridiculous. Similarily lazy is the arc of lead character, Susumu Kodai. He's the ex-fighter pilot scavenger and, after signing up he is immediatly (with no explanation whatsoever) given the post of lead fighter-pilot. But he's stationed on the bridge and seems to be the guy who fires the big gun. And then, again for no real reason, come the end he is given control of the ship. It all seems like they had an idea of how this type of arc was supposed to play out, but had no thought to actually pulling it off.

It cannot be easy making a sci-fi film in a battleship/submarine setting, with having to follow the excellent Battlestar Galactica. They're two very different beasts yes: Yamato is a Japanese sci-fi film going for "fun", where Galactica is an American TV show exploring issues of faith, morality and mortality. Still, Yamato could have learned a few things from Galactica instead of being an endevaour that is entirely childish, in the worst sense of the word.

04.08: THE INNKEEPERS (NZIFF)

Talking with a few people after the screening, I got the distinct impression I was one of the few to enjoy the new film from director Ti West. The Innkeepers is not a freakishly frightening or gory horror film; instead I found it to be an atmospheric, good ol' fashioned ghost story.

The Yankee Peddlar Inn is closing down; it's the final weekend before the old inn shuts up shop for good. Manning the front desk (and everything else) is tomboy Claire and moody Luke. There's two sets of guests staying the weekend - a mother & son and a TV start turned New Age healer, Leanne Rease-Jones. There have always been tales of a ghost that haunts the inn - a blushing bride, cruelly rejected on her wedding day hung herself and was hidden by the owners at the time - and Claire and Luke are determined to track down proof before the inn closes. Things begin to get decidedly spookier, with West building the tension without relying on heavy-handed jump-scares.

Sara Paxton is a grumpy, cute, stompy delight as Claire. She brings just the right mixture of charm, moxy and innocence to the role. She's all wide-eyes, flailing limbs and goofy charm. Claire is also the true believer of the ghost stories; the one who, despite never experiencing any spookiness at the inn herself, believes Luke and his stories. Luke is an altogether different prospect: he operates a crappy website dedicated to ghost "sightings" at the inn and talks often of his own "experiences" with the ghost, though you often doubt him and his stories. Pat Healy is ok enough in the role, but didn't offer any more than a character who is a little bit of an asshole. And yes, it's Kelly McGillis from Top Gun as Leanne Rease-Jones.

The first couple of acts may seem a bit slow and even boring, but I found myself soaking up the spooky atmosphere, before West really brings the scares. In fact, it was the last minutes of the film that were kind of disappointing. The suspense, and the questioning of whether the ghost stories are real or not, has been built up so well the reveal and conclusion feels somewhat unsatisfactory. It's a tough call - how do you ensure you pay off from what you've been building on for an entire runtime? But that aside, The Innkeepers is a spooky and fun ghost story layered in atomsphere in suspense, rather than gore and cheap jump-scares. And that's more than good enough for me.