apologies & holidays

I know I haven't been writing a lot - at all - lately, but it's summertime, and I am trying to fit in again in my dear hometown, Paris. Always out, wandering around, catching up with friends and movie theaters, buildings and exhibitions, dance shows and cafés. However, I PROMISE to write about many many many things soon - a little preview: The Tree of Life, Pina (Wim Wender's film AND her last choregraphy shown at the Théâtre de la Ville in Paris), Paris at night (and not Midnight in Paris, I've said everything about this). I am also planning on seeing two films tomorrow SO you see? When I'll start writing again, I won't be able to stop.

As for now, the old school picture of holidays - I was in the South of France a few hours ago, and even if it's not exactly like that, it's pretty close.

Cheers, dear readers.



MJ.

Last Days

the after SIFF - kickball!

MJ.

The imperfect and touching art of Anh Hung Tran

Yesterday was SIFF's last day - sadly and thankfully too, because after three weeks and a half, I know people are simply looking forward to a good night of sleep -. As I was walking on Capitol Hill on this half-sunny Sunday, I realized it was my last Sunday here in Seattle, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to leave and go bak to Paris - no clear answer came to my mind.

In front of the Egyptian, the crowd was big and getting bigger minute by minute : we were all going to see one of SIFF 2011's last film, NORWEGIAN WOOD. After getting in, the room got very crowded. I must say that I had some doubts and fears before going to see this 133 minutes Japanese movie - I try but I am not a huge fan of Asian cinemaS -. If you tell me "you'll have to watch MYSTERIES OF LISBON or THE BEST OF YOUTH all over again - and they're both over 4 hours - I'd jump of joy, but Asian films are... often boring to me.

Anyway - I'm getting lost here. Back on track now. NORWEGIAN WOOD.

Directed by Anh Hung Tran, this drama is based on Haruki Murakami's novel, which was published in 1987 and an internationally acclaimed best-seller. Set in the Japan of the 1960s, both the film and the novel tell the story of Watanabe and Kaoko, a boy and a girl who have to deal with their best friend (for Watanabe) and eternal love (for Kaoko)'s suicide. If Watanabe learns to grow from this tragic episode of his life - he escapes from home and goes to Tokyo, starts spending his days and nights reading, make new friends, experience love -, Kaoko slowly sees her mind and health go away as she realizes that she's unable to live without this boy she had loved since forever.

She disappears, but eventually, the two damaged souls meet again one afternoon, in a park. They start taking walks together, laughing again, but never mention the name of the deceased loved one - Kizuki. On Kaoko's birthday, Watanabe prepares a surprise, a cake, a gift and some wine, and before they know it, the two teenagers are making love. However, when the boy notices that Kaoko is a virgin and asks her why she never made love with Kizuki, things go wrong and the girl disappears again. If Watanabe goes on with his life - he meets a young, pretty and charming young woman called Midori - fate and pain have linked him to Kaoko with an eternal unbreakable string. Even though her sadness remains the same and her love for Kizuki identical, Watanabe tries everything to make her feel better, because he loves her - because she loves him too, in her own way. He starts visiting her in the "clinic" where she stays, in the countryside. Together, they walk in the woods and let an ecstasy of despair grow inside them and between them. But soon, Watanabe sees his heart in between a terrible dilemma : his dangerous, passionate, sad love for Kaoko and his attraction to Midori. In between the complacency of his sorrow and his burning desire of living for himself, Watanabe doesn't really seem to be able to make a choice.

NORWEGIAN WOOD is a gorgeous film what bewitches you body and soul, that moves you deep inside, that attracts you and that makes you question your own fears and capacity of dealing with sorrow. Its stunning cinematography takes you away to the Japanese snow and forests and to the 1960s Tokyo's apartments.

Both sensual and cold, distressing and joyful, its 133 minutes manage to build a real love and life story. Even if I would have some comments and reproaches - the narrative framework is messy and way too fast at the beginning, the director's incapacity to use static shots from time to time - always zooming, de-zooming, tracking - is tiring, the simplistic use of music during tense and very emotional scenes is upsetting - the film as a whole is a fragile and erotic picture of people, both male and female, and lets you leave the movie theatre with a bittersweet taste sprinkled with nostalgia that isn't unpleasant at all.

MJ.

Girls (Who Run The World)*

Once again I'm back after a pretty long period of void. Many things happened in my life recently.
First of all, I moved back to Paris. I must admit that however I really wanted to go home when I was in Seattle, I'm actually missing the States. That experience really changed me and the way I interact with people. I'll make sure to be back sooner than later.

Also, right after I moved back to Paris, I started a summer-job at the best Parisian indie label and record store, Fargo, which means that I have to respect real working hours.
I will talk about Fargo in a following post. You can still check out the website if you're craving for some info (I know you do!): http://www.fargorecords.com/

Therefore I would like to apologize for my silence. That being said, let's go back to today's topic: girls in music. Indeed, lately, I've been listening to a lot of music made by talented young chicks and even better, I've been able to see some of them perform live.

I will mainly focus on the last three I've seen and who really amazed me.

The first artist I'd like to focus on is the well know Swedish popstar Lykke Li (see picture above) who played at the Showbox on May 26th. I knew her since her first album but her second one, Wounded Rhymes, which came out in March, really turned me on her work. I was very excited of seeing her perform live and I was wondering if and how she would recreate that kind of mystic atmosphere characterizing her music. I must say that I wasn't deceived... The configuration of the scene (big black pieces of fabric were hanging from the ceiling down to the stage), a lot of haze was used, and the main performer's appearance and behaviour on stage really helped. Lykke Li was wearing a long monachal-like black outfit which wouldn't allow us to see anything but her face and hands, her hair was tied in a very tight bun, her make up was very dark and so were her facial expressions. While performing, she would make tribalish dance moves maintaining a very serious expression on her pretty face, which was very disconcerting. Musically speaking, Lykke Li and her band did a very good job: the sound was good, her particular voice sounded clear and strong. The whole thing was very entertaining to watch and hear. Of course, all this matches with what you would expect. When reading some interviews of Lykke Li, you can understand that she is a serious girl and a hardworker. I'm looking forward to hearing what she will do next.

The second artist I'm really into right now is the Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter Sharon Van Etten. I had heard some of her songs from her first record, Because I Was In Love, last year but after seeing her at the Sasquatch festival on Memorial Weekend with a dear friend, I cannot stop listening to her new record, Epic. She might not have the most amazing voice you'll hear in your life and no, she's not inventing something new, but she has things I really look for in people: sincerity and purity.

Her melodies transport me and her lyrics are honest, not always happy, but always about real life, real feelings, without the fear to say too much. Although she is pretty young, Sharon, who plays the guitar, sometimes sings with a lascivious voice which makes me think she is an old and mature soul.

Sharon Van Etten is nothing like Lykke Li and you will probably not see her on the cover of Vogue Magazine (never say never, I know, but you know what I mean) but I truly respect her and I wish her all the best for her carrier. Hopefully she'll play in Paris soon...

To finish, I'd like to talk about the last artist I saw perform in Seattle on June 1st: Anna Calvi.

Anna Calvi became huge in Europe in a few months. In the US, she is barely known. When I listened to her one and only album so far for the first time (and the following too) I didn't understand. Her album actually never caught me. Let's be honest. Not that it is bad, I just don't understand the construction of the songs, they lose me.

However, I wanted to see her live and try to understand. And gosh, I understood.

The energy Anna Calvi conveys to the audience had me forget that the Crocodile was half empty that night. She is a petite beautiful and discrete woman who plays the guitar like an old rocker and who sings with a very determined and strong voice. What lost me that night was the mix of her voice, the magnetic look in her eyes and the very sensual way she played the guitar.

What was also very surprising to see was that once a song was over - some songs were VERY powerfull - she would briefly say something to the audience but you couldn't hear a word since she would whisper. The discrepancy between the musician and the person (and you can see from interviews that she is very shy and low-profile) is very interesting to be pointed out.

Anna Calvi is a real performer and I advise every person who didn't like her album to go and see her on stage, she's stunning.

*Oh yeah, Beyoncé, you can be proud!

A.C.

GayLaLaLaLaLaLa

Very fun night at the SIFF GayLa, that ended in that crazy & wild bar right at the corner of Madison & Union called Pony.

The top dj, who was king enough to play "Ca plane pour moi".

Arty.

MJ.

it's always fun when it's midnight in paris - but not this time.

The first minute, and you know it's Woody Allen thanks to its credits - same format, same fonts. The second minute and you know where it is: Paris. The fifth minute and you think "Alright I got it, I know it's Paris, I know what the Eiffel Tower/ the Champs Elysees/ the Place Vendome/ Odeon/ the Seine/ look like, you don't need to show them to me three or four times, get to your story Woody". Unfortunately, you end up wishing he didn't get to try to make his point, because the emptiness, the poverty and the stupidity of this film are really outrageous.

I can try and make a simplistic summary - it would be simplistic no matter what -: Gil and Inez (Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams) are spending a few days in Paris. They're engaged, but the purpose of this trip has nothing to do with it - Inez's parents are also in Paris, and the couple chose - you have no idea why, which lovers would go to Paris with parents around? - this opportunity to visit the city too. Gil is a very demanded screenwriter in Hollywood, but what he really wants is to become a novel writer. Inez, the typical LA blonde with expensive clothes/ shoes/ bags/ tastes, doesn't understand why her fiance would want to experience something different and make no money out of it - you see, the plan for them is to buy a house in Malibu. However, Gil isn't the defeatist type, and he sticks to his dream. While they're having dinner in a restaurant, Inez meets with friends from the States - the most pendantic man in the world and his transparent girlfriend - and decides to spend days and nights with them. Of course, it is not of Gil's taste, so when they all decide to go dancing, the "writer wannabe" choses to wander around Paris to find ideas - you understand, he really likes Paris at night, under the rain, and wishes he could have lived there in the 1920s, how original, right? -. But at midnight, while seating in front of the Pantheon, a car stops in front of him and makes him travel in time: Gil is now in the 1920s ! And guess what? Over the night, he meets with Cole Porter, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway ! I won't ruin the rest of the film by telling you who else he meets - that is actually the one and only funny part of the movie, trying to guess who's coming next.

In the morning, Gil is back into his time - with his awful fiance who keeps saying how amazing, funny, clever and handsome her unbearable male friend is, with his terrible parents - in - law who keep on saying "cheap is cheap" and who vote republican, with his miserable existence - but don't worry, he does meet gorgeous women too in the years 2010, including Carla Bruni and Léa Seydoux.

And then what? Then nothing. Absolutely NOTHING. No humor, no script, no story, no characters, no movie. A simple succession of Paris shots and of "Guess who is coming next on the screen". I had already been pretty disappointed by Allen's last film, but this is above everything. I couldn't expect anything that bad from the king of the comedy genre. Maybe too much is too much, and Allen might want to consider taking more time between his films to actually think about them a bit more?

I cannot say that it is the fact that Paris was shown as a postcard that upset me - I've been away from the city of my heart since almost 9 months, so any shot of it makes me happy and stupid and smile - but the fact that the film has no purpose nor intelligence at all - Gil the romantic writer, engaged with Inez, the upstart annoying and spoiled blonde who dreams of a house in Malibu... Seriously? How much more incoherent could this be? C'mon Woody, you can do better than THAT.

MJ.

Terri or the Sundance type film

I am aware of the fact that it has been a while since I wrote about films - well, not so long, but I am definitely not following my "one review a day" rule. Nevermind. For my defense, the week-end was pretty wild - a fantastic party with a lot of dancing at Dar Hall - and I didn't have a minute. But I did have time to watch films, and I did. I won't write about them all - for instance, Detective Dee, a fair entertaining/ magical/ kung fu/ fairy tale Chinese film, and that's pretty much all. However, I wanted to write about this one called TERRI that I saw on Saturday night, because it felt like one of these "good coming of age films that you've seen a dozen times", which made me think about the Sundance-type film.

Directed by Azazel Jacobs and set in an undefined landscape - trees, forest, high school -, the film follows Terri, an oversized teenager living with his dying uncle in a cabin near the woods. Terri doesn't seem to be able to fit in. He goes to school wearing his pajamas and enjoys killing mouses with mousetraps in the house's attic. Often, people laugh at him because of his look - the poor darling has no friend. The only person he really likes is Heather - he is actually in love with her -, but she doesn't seem to notice him, to busy letting the hipper kid of the school touching her intimate parts. In this difficult environment, there is someone who cares about Terri: the headmaster, Mr Fitzgerald (the always very good John C. Reilly). The latter starts asking Terri to come to his office weekly for a little chat, and the boy begins to consider this caring adult as a friend. However, one day, he realizes that all the weird kids of the school have weekly meeting with Mr. Fitzgerald, including Chad - the angry teenager who eats his own hair. Terri gets upset, of course, but eventually, he starts building himself, making friends, enjoying life - even though it is not always simple.

TERRI is a good and fair film. It is well-made, the rhythm is pleasant, the characters exist, the cinematography is nice. It is a classic coming-of-age story about misfit and high-school. Sometimes funny, sometimes touching, sometimes hard, sometimes naive, sometimes sensitive, it is never boring. The actors all do a fantastic job here, teenagers and adults, but the result is a film you've since before, a film you won't really remember after all. A typical Sundance type film/ basic US indie piece - great treatment, nice story, feelings and intelligence, but no originality. Very predictable. A square construction. I kept thinking about it, wondering what was missing, and I finally found the answer : spontaneity.

MJ.

DAY 13 - What's above us?

What is above? Is it truth, respect, life, love, faith? Is it something else? Is there really a way to know, and is it the same thing for everyone? I asked myself this question when I got out of the screening of German film ABOVE US ONLY SKY (Ueber Uns Das All), and I have to admit that I couldn't really find a single, straight, absolute answer. However, I think that Jan Schomburg's response - this one being "only sky" - might be the most reasonable and honest one.

Screened in the Panorama competition at the Berlin Festival in February, I only got the chance to see this disturbing but quite impressive feature - first feature actually, one more very promising director to add to my list -. It won the European Cinema Label Prize at the Berlinale, and even if there still is some darkest to my understanding of its meaning, it is a fascinating film. I am actually glad that it won this prize because thanks to it, the film will receive some help for its theatrical release around Europe - one doesn't talk much about all the fantastic films that are out there but that can not been seen because they have no distributor -.

Martha is an English high-school teacher and a happy married spouse. She and her husband, who just finished his thesis and got a PhD in Neurology, enjoy having diner with friends and making love late at night. One day, the husband, Paul, comes back home with a great news: he's been asked to take a job in Marseille, in the South of France. The couple gets very excited, but the day of Paul's departure, Martha senses that something's wrong. Too busy cleaning their apartment, she doesn't realize how bad things are gonna turn out. The next morning, the police comes to their place and announces her the worst : Paul has committed suicide in a parking lot in Marseille. After a few days of panic, Martha goes to Paul's thesis director to tell him about his death. But the doctor doesn't know who Paul is. No one at the university does. The thesis he wrote was actually written by someone else. Suddenly, Martha's life falls apart as she learns that the one she loved and had been married to for year wasn't who he said he was.

While at the university to find out if someone actually knew Paul, she gets in an elevator with a man who happens to be doing the same thing her husband used to do with his hair. They meet again in a bus, and end up together in Martha's apartment. But Martha's starts acting weird, showing up naked in front of the stranger, asking him to go to bed because she's tired, as if it was the most normal thing to do - did she know this man before? is she getting crazy?

Alexander - the stranger, who happens to be a teacher at the university - and Martha start a relationship - they go to the opera, meet with friends, have sex. They seem to have known each other for years, and something weird happens: Alexander finds a job in Marseille. Than the audience can start wondering : what is real? what is truth? what is crazy - or simply unexplainable?

The performances are brilliant, and so is the filmmaking. Jan Schomburg has this strange and very surprising way of making the rhythm of his film evolves - if it starts as a pretty classic drama/comedy, slowly and happily, the film then takes the path of the thriller genre - who was Paul? why did he lie? -. The third act is more dramatic - how does Martha deal with her loss, how the encounter with Alexander helps her ease the pain - but after a while, it is impossible to distinguish what is real and what isn't - the characters become slightly schizophrenic. And even if I am sure that some elements aren't totally clear, I found this piece very appealing and impressive for a first feature. A film doesn't have to be entirely understandable to be enjoyable - and that's the mystery part that added a lot to this one.

MJ.