Bad and Good Films or how the magic art called Cinema doesn't operate each time

Back from Palm Springs. It is hard to readapt to the life here in Seattle, not watching 4 or 5 films a day. However, there are a few that I want to talk about, because of the deception – or the joy - they caused.

Somewhere (S.Coppola, USA, 2010): Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff) is a bad-boy actor stumbling through a life of excess at the Chateau Marmont Hotel in Hollywood. With an unexpected visit from his 11-year-old daughter (Elle Fanning), Johnny is forced to put things in perspective and ask himself some vital questions. Or at least, that is what Coppola wants. Unfortunately, you realize quite rapidly that these questions are not vital at all. Johnny is just bored, and so are we in front of the emptiness, the length and the boringness of her film. When it should focus on the relationship between a father and her daughter and the perdition of a Hollywood star, it simply focuses on random stuff such as a show given by two stripers in Johnny’s room - Sofia films the ENTIRE performance – he falls asleep... so do we -. I used to be a big fan of Coppola’s films. I fell in love with Virgin Suicides and adored Lost in Translation. When Marie-Antoinette came out, I was very disappointed and completely discombobulated. Too many rock effects, too many bouffant dresses, too many macarons, and no script – that was a shame. The bad thing is that I hoped she would noticed it, and come back with more profound stories, with tortured, lost, touching protagonists. With “Somewhere”, she simply shows us that she knows Hollywood – its people- and the Chateau Marmont. But other than that, the best she can do is start the film with her main character driving his car in circle on a circuit – metaphor: his life keeps going around and around but doesn’t go forward – and ending it with the same character driving away from L.A to the countryside, stopping his car in the middle of nowhere and finishing the road walking. It is so depressing that all I could do was laugh. So please Sofia, wake up or stop making films and go back to your shopping sessions, draw bags and clothes, but NO MORE OF THIS.

King’s Speech (T. Hooper, UK, 2009): After his brother abdicates, George ‘Bertie’ VI (Colin Firth) reluctantly assumes the throne. Plagued by a dreaded nervous stammer and considered unfit to be King, Bertie engages the help of an unorthodox speech therapist named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). At first, I wasn’t convinced at all by the script – a stammer trying to learn how to speak correctly for two hours seemed pretty boring – but I have to admit that I was wrong. The film is brilliantly directed – some fantastic shots in which Hooper places his protagonists not at the center of the screen but aside, on the left or right corner, which gives them much more presence. The actors, meaning the trio Firth/ Rush/ Bonham Carter, is splendid, and there is no way to get bored.

Submarino (T. Vintenberg, Denmark, 2010): It is the story of two brothers who were separated from each other at a young age by a tragedy that split their entire family: the death of their baby brother. 20 years later, Nick's life is drenched in alcohol and plagued by violence, while his kid brother struggles as a junkie to give his son a better life. A hard-hitting but intensely spiritual drama that has nothing to do with Festen – for those who loved this amazing family drama directed by the same guy years ago. The use of the camera is totally different, sober but aesthetic. Nevertheless, Vintenberg goes even deeper in the sordid realism of his story. There is not an ounce of hope, not a single ray of sunlight. The city he films is grey, his protagonists are dressed with dark clothes, the buildings are drab and the ambiance is gloomy. Even if the characters are touching, in the end, I wonder if it is not too much pathos for a single film to treat – it becomes slowly unbelievable, in the objective sense of the word -. You are not even surprised or chocked when the son discovers his father high in the bathroom, with his heroin needle still planted in the arm. Plus, there are some script mistakes or absurdities, SO big that you see it coming minutes and minutes before it actually happens – for example, you learn at the end that the dead baby brother was named Martin and OH so surprisingly, that’s the name of the son of the kid brother. I would be lying if I said that it is a bad film – compared to Somewhere, it is almost a masterpiece – but I believe that Vintenberg can do better – and he proved it with Festen.

MJ.

Palm Springs, trees, films, old people and parties

After all, here it comes. The small report of the Palm Springs International Film Festival, or how a city of retired people can be fun after all, thanks to films, parties, hot tubs, great people and a rather stubborn sunshine.

It was a pleasure to arrive in Palm Springs, especially after NYC (big big big snow storm) and the rain in Seattle (after all, it came). Palm trees everywhere, large and clean avenues, the smell of the desert and of Mexico somehow. The film festival lasted for 12 days, from the 5^th until the 17^th of this month – January – and had a great selection of films to watch, plus a pretty amazing number of people from the industry, directors, producers, screenwriters and actors, coming from all over the world – Belgium, Venezuela, Italy, Slovenia, Netherlands, Denmark, Greece etc – and who were all very enthusiastic talking about their work.

We got to see very diverse movies, and even though some of them were bad, it was an incredible experience – and there was also some amazing stuff out there as you’ll read later on.

Some might say that the incredible part of it would probably be the Gala, hosted at the Convention Center on the 8^th. It welcomed major movie stars such as Javier Bardem, Natalie Portman, Ben Affleck, Robert Duvall or Danny Boyle, and gave awards to some – Best Actress, Best Director – completely on the side of the festival (the movie stars’ films weren’t there, only them).

Of course, it was a lot of fun to be there: 2000 people in a room, waiters and waitresses running all over the place, fancy (and sometimes hideous) dresses and suits, Colin Firth or James Franco sitting right next to you. Nevertheless, it was a bit too much of this, too much of that, security everywhere, paparazzi and very personal catchy speeches – they didn’t need to be-.

Apart from this special night, there were parties every night, celebrating films, countries, production companies or sponsors, and it was great to be able to talk to people who had work on the films you had seen just a few hours earlier. Everyone seemed to have a great time, there was no pressure, no showing off and no pretention. People were all talking to each other, dancing and having fun.

About films, we saw a lot of them. 20 in 5 days to be precise. I don’t think it’s necessary to stop on the bad ones – even though I HAVE TO concerning some – but I’ll try to write about a bunch of them.

The first one we saw was Essential Killing (J. Skolimowsky, Poland, 2010, 83 min, Feature). Presented at Venice, it won some prizes – Best Actor for Vincent Gallo -. Captured by the US military in Afghanistan, Mohammed (Gallo) is transported to a secret military black site somewhere in the Eastern Europe. When the armed convoy-car falls off the road, Mohammed finds himself free, among a hostile and covered with snow forest. Relentlessly pursued, he must constantly confront the need to kill in order to survive. Even though Skolimowsky treats the infinite threat of nature and desperation pretty well, it is impossible to see the point of such a slow action/ thriller film, in which Vincent Gallo might appear brilliant to some, but just seemed ordinary to me. The whole “essential killing” thing is offensive and annoying, and so is the fact that the director chose to make his protagonist a Taliban. It is the film representing Poland for the Oscars, for the pre-selection of Best Foreign Film Category – because as you might not know, Palm Springs shows all the foreign films running in the pre-selection for the Oscars. I had to say how bad this film was and how upset I am it won prizes at Venice – a good introduction for an upcoming review about the terrible Coppola’s “Somewhere”.

Among the films I liked – that’s more exciting, for sure -:

All that I love (J. Borcuch, Poland, 2009, 95 min, Feature): We are in 1981. In a small seaside town of Poland, four teenage boys start a punk band. Janek (main protagonist) is in love with Basia. But Basia’s father is in Solidarity, a federation of trade unions fighting against the regime, while Janek’s father is called on to enforce the law against the strikers. As the strike continues things get more desperate and it affects everyone. A beautifully made film about freedom, youth, music and love, a gorgeous actor and a story full of history, hope and Soviet type architecture.

The man from nowhere (L. Jeong-Beom, South Korea, 2010, 119 min, Feature): An ex-special agent, Tae-sik, develops a strong relationship with the little girl who lives nearby. Her mother smuggles drugs from a drug trafficking organization and entrusts Tae-sik with the product, without letting him know. When the traffickers find out, they kidnap the mother and the child. After much consideration, Tae-sik makes the decision to face the outside world again in order to rescue the little girl. Adrenaline rises are constant while watching this effective, full of action, very classic – Hollywood type Korean film. A pleasant moment, no over thinking and a HOT Korean actor: all the ingredients to make a successful blockbuster.

A screaming man (M. Haroun, Chad, 2010, 92 min, Feature): Confirmed as one of Africa's preeminent film artists, Haroun returns to themes of family and loyalty in war-torn Chad. The film is about a father working with his son at the pool of a five-star hotel. Life passes, slowly and peacefully. But when the director of the hotel starts firing people and gives the father the doorman’s job when he’s been dedicating his entire life to the swimming pool, the latter gets mad at his son, who took this job, and decides to give him to the civil war forces. Sober, pertinent, slow-moving but engaging, this piece is a great hope for the African Cinema. Lacking in pretention, which is getting rare nowadays, it is an incredible film about tradition, about Chad, about war, about parenthood, about jealousy, about ego. Moreover, it is an intense film about human beings and life’s choices and dilemmas. A chock. A tale.

As if I’m not there (J. Wilson, Ireland, 2010, 109 min, Feature): This unique film tells the story of Samira, a young teacher in a Bosnian village, whose life is turned on its head the day a soldier walks uninvited into her kitchen and tells her to pack a bag. She is forced into a new world, where peace is a fairytale and where there are no homes. Surrounded by women and children – all the men have been killed already -, she becomes a sexual slave with a bunch of other girls, and has to fight to survive. The simplicity of this film makes it inimitable. The director is not looking for your tears, she’s not looking for your pity. She tells a story, a true story, and does – successfully – everything to be faithful to the painting of the brutality and of the hell of this war. The main actress is a goddess in her acting. J. Wilson is considered one of the 10 directors to follow by Variety Magazine. After seeing her film, I understand why.

Last but not least, the better always comes in the end: Bibliothèque Pascal (S. Hajdu, Hungary, 2010, 111 min, Feature): Mona Paparu has to tell her story to the child protective services to get back custody of her young daughter. Her depiction of the happenings of the past three years wrenches the viewer into an adventure where love, crime, clairvoyance, resurrection of the dead, women-trafficking and a literary S/M brothel have no small part to play. Terry Gilliam’s influence is all over the place. Bright colors, very kitsch effects and sets, slow, dreamy, powerful, entertaining, frightening, funny, hypnotizing. There wouldn’t be enough words to describe this masterpiece, a big breath of fresh air in the Cinema industry. The only thing to say is: THANK YOU MR HAJDU for having no limits, no constraints, only your imagination and your faith.

The Festival was pretty well organized – charming and professional staff, shuttles to go from one theater to another and a very good Deli next door to the biggest venue (Sherman’s, thank you for the great Carrot Cake). The audience – mostly old people – was very responsive to the films, quiet and curious – except for the nudity or sex scenes, which were often characterized of “chocking” by old women (I had a lot of fun talking to them!).

At the end of the day- meaning usually the middle of the night – the other very pleasant thing was to go home and get into the hot tub (that’s a great thing about Palm Springs too.) Of course, it was tiring watching all those films, having to concentrate and trying to be as objective as possible, even for the last one of the day. But when we left, 4 days before the end of the Festival, we wished we would have stayed longer. Let’s hope Berlin is gonna be that good!

MJ.

For the love of Jesus

James Gray District

NYC and Ameuricans - Glen's Pronunciation -

Brooklyn Museum - much much less crowded than the MoMa or the Met - a great building and an interesting mix of paintings, photos, furnitures, from the Ancient Egypt to the 80's. 200 Eastern Parkway, Brooklyn, NY 11238-6099.

Tribeca, Soho, Chinatown, all in one - long - street.

Classic Central Park joggers.

The view.

Wild grass on the High Line (10th Ave & 20th St). A great walk - that makes you pass under the Standard hotel -. Pretty & design. Than, a stop at the Chelsea Market (75 9th Avenue) for the photos, lights and amazing food shops.

Great and cheap breakfast at Broadway Restaurant (Broadway & 101st St). With a greek waiter.

On the ferry to Staten - a round trip with a single foot on the island -

Standard Hotel at night.