NEWS: The 3rd Taiwanese Film Festival

Europe’s largest Taiwanese Film Festival is back for its third edition with four film Premieres.

The festival, which will kick off on May 26th at the Apollo Cinema, Piccadilly with surprise critical and box office smash Seven Days In Heaven by emerging directing duo, Wang Yu-lin and Essay Liu.

Monga

The line-up will also include the 2010 Berlin film festival contender and Taiwan’s official entry for Best Foreign Language Film, Monga by Niu Chen-Zer. The film which has become one of the most successful in Taiwanese box office history stars Asia heart throb’s Ethan Ruan and Mark Zhao.

Also playing will be Leon Dai’s Can’t Live Without You (No Puedo Vivir Sin Ti), offering audiences a profoundly moving drama about a father’s quest to stay with his daughter despite the intervention of the state upholding an irregular bureaucratic rule that may force them to separate.

Love In Disguise

Wang Leehom’s directorial debut, Love In Disguise, will form part of the first Taiwan Cinefest Cross Strait Film Section recognising Taiwanese talent’s contribution in Greater China.

For more information on the event, visit the festival’s official website by clicking here.

NEWS: Terracotta Far East Film Festival 2011

Fourteen films, amongst them UK and European premieres, will be screened at the Prince Charles Cinema, London as part of this year’s Terracotta Far East Film Festival 2011. The event takes place between 5th and 8th May 2011. The films are:

The Lost Bladesman (Guan Yu Chang)
Donnie Yen as the great historical figure Guan Yu from the Three Kingdoms.

Hotel Black Cat (Hei Mao Da Lu She)
Past traumas still linger with the eclectic residents at Hotel Black Cat.

The Tiger Factory
Would you sell your baby to escape to a new life abroad?

Revenge: A Love Story (Fuk sau che chi sei)
A serial killer targeting pregnant women is on the loose.

Man Of Vendetta (Pagwidwin Sanai)
Eight years after his daughter has been kidnapped, a father gets a call from the kidnapper.

Helldriver (Heru Doraiba)
Welcome to Zombie World!

Petty Romance (Jje-jje-han Ro-maen-seu)
A comic artist teams with an unlikely writer to try for lucrative adult comic prize, bringing out their respective wildest fantasies.

Choy Lee Fut (Cai Li Fo)
Two best friends head from Europe to China to learn Choy Lee Fut and get more than they bargained for.

Yazkuza Weapon (Gokudo heiki)
Part man, part machine, ALL Yakuza.

Childs Eye (Tung Ngaan)
Six stranded tourists are caught up in a haunted Bangkok guesthouse.

Red Light Revolution
China’s first SX Shop comedy!

Karate Girl (K.G.)
Two sisters from a Karate dynasty, separated when young, now find themselves on opposing sides.

Gallants (Da Lui Toi)
From zero to hero, via old skool kung-fu.

Milocrorze, A Love Story (Mirokuroze)
Hyper colourful multi-segmented film about obsessive love.

The event will include Q&As with directors and actors, plus masterclasses and an official party.

For more information on the event, visit the festival’s official website by clicking here.

SPECIAL FEATURE: Festival Review: We Love Anime

Saturday, 26th – Sunday, 27th March 2011

Following the success of the Scotland Loves Anime Festival, which took place last October, the Filmhouse in Edinburgh held the We Love Anime Festival on Saturday, 26th and Sunday, 27th March. Four films were shown; Laputa: Castle In The Sky, King Of Thorn, Summer Wars and Sword Of The Stranger, so the organisers went with a mixture of new releases and old classics (Laputa: Castle In The Sky was originally shown in 1986).

With less fanfare than the Scotland Loves Anime Festival (the list didn’t include this on their weekly round-up and it wasn’t well advertised in the city centre), the event still managed to fill around half of the large cinema and drew both children and adults to the screenings. Those who purchased tickets to all four films received a goodie bag from the sponsors, Uniqlo, which contained two DVD’s, a Uniqlo T-shirt and pre-order coded Uniqlo cards…


Summer Wars
Kenji Koiso has a crush on the prettiest girl in school, Natsuki Shinohara, so when he is offered the chance to spend a week in the summer at her grandmother’s house, he jumps at the chance. It soon becomes clear that Natsuki has invited him there under false motives, asking him to pose as her successful fiancé.

Events do not unfurl quite as expected as he unwittingly gets out of his depth when the virtual cyber world Oz becomes infected with a deadly and powerful hacker virus called the Love Machine. Kenji and Natsuki are locked in a race against time to try to prevent the Love Machine from destroying Oz, creating Armageddon in the real world.

The idea of Oz is well explained as an alternate reality where people choose avatars and can complete a range of tasks from virtual shopping to the virtual battle scenes, which form an entertaining part of the movie. The sheer quantity of avatars, which we see in Oz, is testament to the imagination of the animators; the cyber world providing a bubble gum pop contrast to the traditional Japanese world Kenji and Natsuki live in. The concept, although continuing the trend of films such as The Matrix, and the lasting popularity of films such as Tron, feels fresh and interesting - the idea of a cyber world like Oz seems achievable and maybe will be the next step to social networking sites such as Facebook.

The sub-plot of the unrequited romance between Kenji and Natsuki will ring a chord with any teenagers who have found themselves in a similar position and offers many comical moments as the awkward Kenji becomes embarrassed by his feelings. The character of Natsuki’s grandmother also provides a dry sense of humour as she serves a role as a moral compass encouraging family values, traditional Japanese customs and games which later become vital to the success of the protagonists in their thrilling challenge against the Love Machine. The fact that the resolution of a dilemma in a cyber world has been aided by a traditional Japanese lady’s efforts and the chaos which Oz’s failure has on society serves to highlight the negative side of technology. This is counterbalanced in a moving way as Natsuki uses the internet’s power to connect millions of avatars across the world in the final battle.

King Of Thorn
In this sci-fi thriller, Medusa, a deadly virus which turns it’s victims to stone, is spreading. Desperate to preserve some aspects of normal life, a select group of patients are cryogenically frozen by the government, with the hope that they will be woken up when a cure is found. Amongst them is one half of a pair of identical twins Kasumi and American Marco Owen.

The patients wake up to find the cryogenic centre under attack by a mixture of thorn like plants and vicious alien creatures. The small group are puzzled as to why they are awake and try to find a safe escape from the building, fighting off gruesome attacks as members of the group are picked off in gory battle scenes, with the macho Marco becoming the action hero. They soon realise that all is not as it seems as less time has passed than they realised, and the mysterious A.L.I.C.E computer, who was supposed to control their stasis, has been playing her hand in events.

This was definitely a film for those who like their plots complex and their battles blood filled. It doesn’t disappoint in gore and gruesome blood soaked deaths, but the plot, at times, is too confusing, as if too much has been packed in. The similarity to Alien or Predator and other zombie ‘end of days’ films is also unoriginal, whilst the writers clearly took the easy “it was all a dream” escape route to tie up loose ends. At one point, one of the characters even said: “This is too much like something out of a movie, please tell me this is all a dream.”

The film is based on the longer manga series, so perhaps trying to fit all the storylines and characters into a shorter segment has led to a loss of quality. However, the opening graphics are amazing and the initial pace of plot enjoyable. The speed of the growth of the thorny plants and injuries sustained in battle are animated well and there are a lot of gratuitous elements, focusing in on Kasumi’s short skirt and Marco Owen’s muscular attributes, which is amusing.

The decision to show a film at an Edinburgh Anime Festival which referenced a castle in Scotland and in which the twin sisters wear kilts was perhaps a minor reason for showing this film. It did definitely provide a contrast to the simpler plots of the other films at the festival, which focused mainly on one theme of revenge or love, however, by replacing some of the sudden plot twists with a more identifiable human story would have improved the viewing experience. It’s a thriller which delivers on action and suspense, but is a little disjointed and poorly edited.

Laputa: Castle In The Sky
In this innocent tale of childhood romance and swashbuckling adventure, we are introduced to Sheeta as she escapes the grasp of air pirates and falls literally into the life of young miner’s son Pazu, saved by a mysterious crystal as she plunges to earth from the ship in the sky.

Chased by both pirates and a menacing stranger, who has enlisted the help of the army, Pazu and Cheeta embark on an adventure to find Laputa, which according to myth is a castle in the sky of great technological power and advanced people. The troubles that Cheeta and Pazu encounter trying to solve Laputa’s mystery bring the pair closer together, and as they develop feelings for each other, the film becomes a touching coming of age romance as well as a thriller.

Considering it was produced in 1986, the animation still comes across as detailed and complex without seeming dated. The audience were kept laughing, so the sense of humour is also timeless. The innocence of the plot, with even the fight scenes being given a decent injection of humour, makes this a family friendly film with a moving moral tale to match.

There is good use of music for dramatic purposes and the characters of the pirates provide many comic moments. The film itself covers many different locations, so the attention to detail is impressive, especially in the fast moving action scenes, which come across as connecting smoothly – again, considering the date of production, it’s impressive that this is so seamless. There are some interesting graphics, such as the cool robot, and scenes in the air with the pirate ships and Laputa give a futuristic feel.

Laputa: Castle In The Sky made for perfect afternoon viewing and is an uplifting and touching adventure.

Sword Of The Stranger
We are introduced to the young boy Kotaro and his faithful canine companion, Tobimaru, as they flee the monastery they have been staying in as it erupts into flames. They try to find refuge by travelling to a different monastery, but have to forage and scavenge on their way in order to survive.

Hiding in a small wooden house, a stranger with a Samurai sword turns up and ends up saving Kotaro and Tobimaru’s life when some menacing Samurai turn up and try to take Kotaro, injuring Tobimaru in the process. Kotaro pays their saviour, who is a nameless warrior, to give them safe passage to the monastery, but powerful men who work for a Chinese dynasty have decided that Kotaro is needed for a deadly sacrificial ritual and it falls to the nameless warrior to come to the rescue yet again.

Based on a tradition samurai anime story, with loud Taiko drumming to accompany the battle scenes, this film doesn’t leave the viewer feeling as if they have come away with anything shocking or new; however, it is still enjoyable. The battle scenes are expertly animated and the huge block-like blonde haired warrior, Luo Hang, comes across as a terminator figure as he destroys any challenger coming his way in his search for someone worthy of his sword in battle.

The relationship between the nameless warrior and Kotaro is touching and the characters come across as having depth and being well thought out. As the two male protagonists bicker due to their desire to rely on no-one but themselves, but eventually come to emotionally care for each other, it is a good balance to the violence and battle scenes, whilst showing the relationship between male friends, as opposed to a samurai tale based on a love story, is something different

There are some interesting uses of art to provoke reaction, such as blood spattered on snow, a female samurai axing lesser opponents, and samurai being destroyed by their own swords. The film successfully perpetuates the allure of the samurai as an excellent discipline and means of self-defence, as the skill level of the samurai are tested in fights to their deaths. The brooding and mysterious nameless warrior talks of the horrors of battle, but also uses his discipline to save Kotaro and Tobimaru and tries to impart some wisdom on the young boy - this again succeeds in showing a respect for this discipline rather than just focusing on notching up a body count.

It is also refreshing in that despite the plot having interesting turns, which are not easily predictable, the film avoids stepping into the trap of trying to over complicate events and instead relies on the realism of the characters to provide subject matter for thought.


Overall the selection of these four films was a good choice for balance and offered something for every anime fan, whether they wanted a thriller with a twist, a film that both young children and adults could enjoy, a well conceived samurai action thriller, or a futuristic technological suspense drama. The Filmhouse, as usual, were well organised and ensured a decent viewing gap between the films, but it would have been an improvement to have something like the animation stills, which were available for viewing at the Scotland Loves Anime Festival, or perhaps some literature on anime for those who were interested in learning more.

The success of these and other anime events suggests that fans will be able to still enjoy viewing anime in a cinematic experience in Edinburgh and perhaps this will introduce more people to experience this genre of filmmaking. Doubtlessly, there will be another opportunity to experience more anime at the Filmhouse this year, and it will be interesting to see if the listings for the Film Festival in June have any new anime releases on the billing. AT

SPECIAL FEATURE: Festival Review: Human Rights Watch International Film Festival

Wednesday, 23rd March – Friday, 1st April 2011

Human Rights Watch is a leading organisation for the protection of human rights around the world. This film festival constitutes an important part of its work, as it provides an insight into human rights violations, brings them to the attention of a wider audience and encourages the filmmakers, subjects and audience to fight against these injustices.

On the 23rd March, the 15th edition of the festival opened in London, bringing sixteen documentaries and five dramas to a UK audience. This ambitious and wide-ranging festival took place in three different cinemas over ten days, offering a packed schedule of high-impact films. Most of the films included a Q&A with the directors, film subjects or producers, giving the audience a chance to interact with the story they had just seen.

Due to the subject matter, many of the films are hard-hitting, powerful and disturbing, but above all, they aim to promote change in the world. For many of the films, the festival screening was their UK premiere and often the first high-profile exposure of a particular human rights violation. There was great geopolitical scope, with the films collectively covering a wide and varied range of countries and situations. The following four summaries give just a taste of what the festival had to offer…

Incendies
One of the few dramas in the festival, Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation of an original play by Wajdi Mouawad was the official Opening Night Film. Based on the theme of a Greek Tragedy, it combines dark mythic elements with the more modern setting of a destructive Middle Eastern war. Past and present converge as twins Jeanne and Simon go in search of their family history, uncovering deeply disturbing truths about their mother’s life and their own heritage.

Lubna Azabal is brilliant and intense in the role of Nawal - the twins’ mother - and it is Nawal’s story which emerges as the main thread of the film, although it is presented only in flashbacks. The film becomes more harrowing with each new revelation that the twins uncover, and there was an audible, collective gasp from the audience as the different strands of the story collided to reveal a shocking complete picture. Villeneuve handles his complex subject with mastery and finds ways of introducing unconditional love in the midst of horror.

After the credits rolled, actress Lubna Azabal was joined on the stage by Nadim Houry, the Beirut Director for Human Rights Watch. Many of the questions were directed at him and, although the film is deliberately ambiguous regarding its Middle East setting, he was able to draw clear parallels between the themes dealt with in the film and the ongoing suffering of many Lebanese people who are searching for their missing relatives. For those people, as for the characters in the film, the truth may be painful, but not knowing is far worse.

Granito
Almost thirty years ago a young filmmaker, Pamela Yates, managed to get into Guatemala in the midst of its bloody civil war and make a documentary about it: When The Mountains Tremble. By building up trust with both the guerrilla soldiers and the army generals, she was able to capture unique footage of both sides of the war. Now, in an incredible demonstration of the power of documentary filmmaking, Granito shows how that first film is key evidence in the international trial of the army leader, Rios Montt, for crimes against humanity.

Granito is a film in three parts: the first gives contextual background and is a memoir of sorts as Yates explains how she made When The Mountains Tremble. We are introduced to some of the people she is meeting again some twenty-five years later as they come together to try and build a case against Rios Montt. The second part focuses on the judicial proceedings as witnesses come forward before a Spanish judge to give testimonies of the horror they suffered. In the final section, the emphasis takes us back to Guatemala and on the continuing fight of individuals for their own justice.

Yates is well-aware of how intertwined her two films are – Granito is not a straightforward sequel by any stretch of the imagination. The first section of the film suffers a little for this; explaining the context of When The Mountains Tremble takes time and the memoir nature of it is quite in-depth – it is easy to wonder where the film is going. However, in the second and third sections, Granito really comes into its own and finds its voice. Yates combines the story of the trial, in which she has a major part to play, with the personal stories of individuals in a very effective way. It is compelling viewing, if difficult, at times, which shows starkly that the passage of time has not relieved the grief of so many Mayan people who still do not know what happened to their loved ones and who are still being threatened by the leaders of Guatemala.

Granito does not leave the audience feeling pessimistic, however. Rigoberta Menchú, one of the key figures of the film, and the Mayan woman now running for presidency in Guatemala, explains that no one person can change everything, but everyone can contribute their granite (or ‘little grain of sand’). If nothing else, this film sums up the message of the festival; that film has a unique ability – maybe even responsibility – to bear witness to atrocities and violations of human rights and to contribute its own granito to change a situation.

Impunity
With a theme which quickly became familiar within this festival, Impunity is a documentary which takes us to another country with a legacy of a brutal war – Colombia. Here, paramilitary groups had been quick to quash guerrilla uprisings by torturing and massacring the people of rural villages, making an example of anyone who could be vaguely linked to a guerrilla. Impunity begins in 2005, when a controversial law was introduced, allowing paramilitaries virtual amnesty in return for giving up their weapons and answering the questions of the victims.

Although many are evasive and non-committal in their answers, one senior paramilitary figure, ‘HH’, provides key information which begins to reveal the reality atrocities carried out by these groups and the extent to which their actions were linked to the very highest echelons of Colombian politics. As the files begin to pile up and mass graves are found, the testimonies strike close to the presidency and the little justice that there was in this trial begins to falter.

This is a hard-hitting documentary which confronts the viewer head-on; the first scene is of a woman describing the decapitation of her 12-year-old brother and this sets the tone for the rest of the film. With none of the hope which Granito and other films have, this is not an easy film to watch, but it is a story which needs to be told. It shows with stark reality the exchange of justice for peace which politicians will happily make – peace, that is, for them, not for the victims.

Within the festival, Impunity was the film which perhaps most blurred the lines between film and audience – it presented the situation in a very real way, and many of the audience members who were there had their own interests in Colombia, leading to a vehement expression of views in the Q&A. It is that kind of film – it causes shock, encourages questions and aims to get audiences around the world to take a stand against corruption of justice.

The First Grader
The festival closed with The First Grader, a drama based on real events, from director Justin Chadwick (The Other Boleyn Girl). It is the story of Maruge (Oliver Litondo), an 84-year-old man who turns up at a primary school on the day the Kenyan government announces free education for all. Headteacher Jane Obinchu (Naomie Harris) takes pity on him and squeezes him into her already packed classroom. As she gets to know him, she discovers that he is an ex-Mau Mau who fought the British to liberate Kenya. He never had a chance at education and even now, politicians, parents and other teachers are trying to stop him.

This triumphant film was a great way to end the festival on a high after some of the heavy documentaries. It by no means trivialised the events – Chadwick did not ignore the darker elements of Maruge’s story, working in haunting snippets of flashback and undertones of a brutality that left the audience uneasy in their seats. However, the luminous performances of Litondo and Harris and the warm relationship between their characters perfectly demonstrated that humanity is capable of good, as well as evil. The cast of children were completely believable as Maruge’s classmates, probably because they were rural Kenyan schoolchildren who had never acted before.

While the film is optimistic, this does ring a note of implausibility when you realise that the real story of Maruge did not have a happy ending. For many of the Mau Mau who suffered unspeakable torture at the hands of the British, their fight is only just beginning. However, producer David Thompson explained afterwards that Maruge had inspired an entire generation of Kenyans to get an education and that they hoped the Mau Mau would soon have the justice they deserved.

In another example of the blurred lines between film and reality, he was joined for the Q&A by Dan Leader, a barrister who is bringing a case against the British government on behalf of four elderly ex-Mau Mau fighters in order to try and get the government to take the responsibility for its actions that it has so long denied. This is set to be a dramatic moment in history and The First Grader is a film standing on the brink of it, imagining an outcome in which justice prevails.


Overall, the Human Rights Watch International Film Festival was a showcase not only of current human rights issues, but also of the power of film and the determination of filmmakers to put themselves in dangerous situations in order to bear witness to such issues around the world. It takes real talent to make heavy and often complex subjects into good film and that talent abounded. Furthermore, the festival unites audiences, filmmakers and human rights workers in a celebration of their collective power to uphold human rights and to bring about justice in situations where they are violated. Above all, it reaffirms the real ability we all have to promote change in the world. KS

SPECIAL FEATURE: Festival Review: Glasgow Film Festival

Confessions had a profound impact at the festival

Thursday, 17th – Sunday, 27th February 2011

Billed as ‘The return of Cinema City,” the seventh annual Glasgow Film Festival was a fitting celebration of a love affair with cinema which once saw Glasgow house more cinemas per capita than any other city in the world. Although many of these cinemas have been demolished or redeveloped, there is still a great cinema-going culture within the city, and the festival acknowledged this with a wide variety of films and events which had something for all ages and tastes. From the Youth Festival which preceded the main event through to a Ginger Rogers strand, an appearance from Glasgow born comic book artist Mark Millar and a Meryl Streep retrospective, the festival lived up to its billing as ‘the people’s festival’, or as festival co-director Allison Gardner branded it on the opening night: “the punters’ festival.”

In terms of new films, the festival’s major coups included the world premiere of Kevin MacDonald’s swords and sandals epic The Eagle, as well as David Mackenzie’s You Instead, a romantic comedy shot on location at last year’s T In The Park. In addition to the wealth of UK based talent on display at the festival there remained, as always, a strong focus on independent and foreign-language cinema, with a huge range of films either premiered or screened prior to their UK release date. The following is a small selection of some of those titles screened over the course of the event…


Potiche
Things got under way on the 17th with a screening of Francois Ozon’s latest film Potiche, a comedy starring Catherine Deneuve and Gérard Depardieu. Unusually for the festival, there was no appearance from the director or either of his stars, but this did not distract from the occasion as the audience joined in with the spirit of the proceedings, and sat back to enjoy the film, which isn’t released in cinemas on these shores until June.

Potiche is a light-hearted comedy about a middle aged trophy housewife named Suzanne (Deneuve) who takes over her husband’s umbrella company when he is taken ill following industrial action amongst the workers. With the help of local MP Maurice Babin (Depardieu) and her children, Joelle and Laurent, she turns the fortunes of the factory around and creates a happy working environment for the workers, as well as a profitable business. When her husband returns to re-take the reins of his business, Suzanne is determined that she should maintain her position, and a power struggle begins between the couple.

Saturated in colour and alive with bright characters and breezy humour, Potiche is a world away from the Ozon of La Refuge, his previous effort which charted the pregnancy of a drug addict. The film touches on issues such as divorce, fidelity and female empowerment, but never labours too long on such seriousness, preferring a frivolous approach which charms but does drag on after a while. The set design and costumes, as well as the over the top performances are the stuff of pure sit-com, and as a result, the film occasionally feels like an overly long episode of a French version of Frasier. Nevertheless, the humour is effective and the characters engaging, and the sight of Deneuve and Depardieu disco dancing in awkward middle-aged harmony is, in its own right, enough to render Potiche a suitably light festival opener. Something sweet and frothy to cleanse the pallet before delving into the array of more challenging, thought provoking material that the festival would provide in droves.

Confessions
Each year the Glasgow Film Festival has a strand of films dedicated to showcasing films from a particular country. Last year, the focus was on Japan, and the festival’s connection with Japanese cinema continued into 2011, with a screening of Tetsuya Nakashima’s Confessions, a thriller about a schoolteacher avenging the murder of her daughter, and based on the novel by Kanae Minato. The film has already received recognition both at home and abroad, winning multiple awards at the Japan Academy Prize and being put forward as Japan’s entry for Best Foreign Language Film at the Oscars.

Confessions tells the story of Yuko (Takako Matsu) who, having discovered that two pupils in her class were responsible for the death of her young daughter, sets up an elaborate and sinister plot to exact her revenge. Believing that she is teaching the perpetrators, and the other pupils in her class a lesson about how precious and fragile life is, she unknowingly sets off a chain of events that will affect the lives of several of her pupils and their families.

The premise may sound like the stuff of Japanese revenge horror, a genre which has taken off in the last few years, but Nakashima avoids any moral standpoint and instead creates a web of interlinked characters and scenarios which examines the impact of revenge, and questions its justice. This does lead to some confusion about where the viewer’s sympathy should lie, but this in itself, like much of the film, is left open to debate.

Questions like this, along with the film’s stunning visuals, ensure that the film has a profound impact - the stunned silence in the Glasgow Film Theatre following the screening bearing testament to this. Nakashima’s use of slow motion, grey skies and rain mean that each frame is a work of art, carefully crafted and presented, but never lingered on, allowing the film to flow at a steady and exciting pace while drawing every ounce of emotion from the story. Although screened early in the festival, Confessions was unquestionably one of its highlights.

Point Blank
Film festivals are renowned for their preference of art house or independent cinema, and so it was something of a welcomed change of pace to see Fred Cavayé’s Point Blank receive its UK premiere at the GFF. Cavayé’s previous film, Pour Elle, was adapted by Hollywood to make The Next Three Days, and with its strong characters and intense action sequences, it is difficult to imagine Point Blank will not receive the same treatment.

The film is a taut action-thriller about Samuel (Gilles Lellouche), a lowly hospital worker who, when his wife is kidnapped, is forced to ensure the release of wanted criminal Hugo Sartet from his hospital, avoiding the police protection surrounding the injured man. Things take a complicated turn after Hugo is freed, when corrupt policeman Patrick Werner begins his own pursuit of the pair; suddenly neither side of the law is safe for Samuel as he is thrust into a web of lies and cover-ups.

Cavayé’s script may be formulaic and somewhat predictable, but it is carried off with such style that each turn in the story still seems somehow fresh, even if it could have been spotted a mile off. Much of the drama is drawn from Lellouche’s performance, as Samuel he perfectly encapsulates the ordinary bloke in an extraordinary situation that characterises Cavayé’s approach to the genre. He also provides such a likeable character that it is impossible not to root for him as he flees through Underground stations and over rooftops in a series of increasingly frantic and exciting set pieces which, though providing the kind of thrills to be expected of such a film, never stray away from the emotional hook of a man fighting to get his wife back.

It is indeed rare for a festival to include a Hollywood style popcorn thriller, and it is a testament to Cavayé’s style that his film is deemed worthy, as well as an indication of the less formal, celebratory tone of the Glasgow Film Festival. If a Hollywood remake is indeed inevitable then it is well worth catching this heart racing film before the yanks inevitably ruin it by plastering Ryan Reynolds or someone equally airbrush friendly all over it.

Apnea
Lowering the pace considerably after Point Blank was Apnea, the debut feature from former Greek swimming champion Aris Bifaloukas. Apnea is a breathing technique used to enhance lung capacity in swimmers, which allows them to hold their breath under water for more than five minutes at a time. Apnea is known to cause hallucinations, and it is the distinction between reality and fantasy that forms the dreamlike tone of the film, which follows competitive swimmer Dimitris (Sotiris Pastras) as he reflects on his relationship with environmental activist Elsa (Youlika Skafida), who has mysteriously disappeared.

The narrative of Apnea is formed by a series of flashbacks from Dimitris’ point of view, as he practices the technique and relives the time he spent with Elsa. The film is subdued to the point of being almost joyless, and it is difficult to become too emotionally involved in the relationship between the characters, as Dimitris shows barely any emotion himself.

The calm serenity of time spent underwater may act as a hindrance to narrative development, but it presents many visual and aural possibilities which Bifaloukas expertly embraces. The film’s most memorable moments involve shots of Dimitris underwater, his body perfectly still and surrounded by the haunting placidity of the water. Very little music is used on the soundtrack, with lapping waves and swimming pool depths always highlighting the stranglehold that water has over Dimitris, and over the film itself.

The result is a film which, though slight in terms of story, is unsettling and often moving, as the director’s experience of the life aquatic is brought viscerally to life on the screen. More time could have been spent examining the mystery surrounding Elsa’s disappearance, which would have added to the sense of the unknown that the water sequences perfectly capture. Apnea may not have been the most memorable story told at the festival, but the feeling that comes from it is unique and interesting enough to render it worthy of attention.

Love Like Poison
The cancellation of an appearance from director Katell Quillévéré due to pregnancy was undoubtedly the reason for the poor turnout at the screening of her debut feature Love Like Poison. The film has already achieved recognition, winning Quillévéré the Jean Vigo Prize for first features. The film is a coming of age drama about a 14-year-old girl returning from boarding school to make her Confirmation but questioning the very faith she is supposed to be confirming.

Anna (Clara Augarde) returns to her scenic village in Brittany at a difficult time for her family. Her parents are going through a divorce, her mother is left to care for her dying paternal grandfather and her feelings for choir boy Pierre are causing her a great deal of confusion. Her support network lets her down, as the stresses of divorce cause her mother to become alienated, and her charismatic local priest is questioning his own calling as he struggles with the attentions of Anna’s mother.

Coming of age dramas are ten a penny and Love Like Poison does not rewrite the genre, or contribute very much to it at all. Quillévéré has favoured subtlety in dealing with the film’s issues of life, death love and religion and the result is a film which does not say enough about any of them to be worthwhile. Sterling performances from most of the cast, particularly newcomer Clara Augarde, are wasted on a script which lacks the courage of its convictions.

While it is in some ways refreshing to see a film which examines the Catholic faith without condemning it, to suggest the possibility of a priest harbouring sexual desire without exploring it in more detail makes the film seem light and insignificant. Michel Galabru supposedly provides comic relief as Anna’s grandfather, but most of his scenes are uncomfortable and vulgar, exhibiting a sharper edge to the film that could have been better used in other areas.

On the whole, there is not much to recommend about Love Like Poison; it is tiresome, underwritten and instantly forgettable, an unfortunate blip on an otherwise strong festival line-up.

The Christening
Marcin Wrona follows up his well received debut feature My Flesh My Blood with Polish gangster thriller The Christening. Set in Warsaw, the film deals with family, honour and redemption in a detached and understated style as the film is shot mostly on hand-held cameras in naturally lit locations.

Michal (Wojciech Zielinski) has turned his life around from his days as a gangster and eventual arrest, and is now a successful businessman living in a swanky city apartment with his beautiful wife and infant son. In the week leading up to the child’s christening, he invites his childhood friend Janek (Tomasz Schuchardt) to stay with him, and asks him to be the child’s godfather. However, Janek is unaware that Michal’s comfortable home life is teetering on the brink of collapse, and the deal he made with his former gang members will soon cost him everything.

Although dealing with the world of organised crime, The Christening is a far more sensitive and emotional film than it would initially seem; preferring a character driven approach which explores the relationship between Michal and Janek and the choices both men have to make. This exploration is aided by intense, brooding and powerful performances from the two male leads. Schuchardt, in particular, is excellent, presenting Janek as unhinged and dangerous, as well as conflicted and fragile. The film’s subtlety in dealing with its deep themes, as well as its realistic and closely shot style, means that when violence does erupt it does so without warning, its graphic nature coming as a shock to the system and maintaining the unbearable tension in the lead up to the film’s inevitable yet shocking conclusion.

So many films which deal with organised crime create a world so far removed from reality it is difficult to relate to, yet the blissful ignorance of the supporting players to Michal’s situation make the story not only strikingly believable but tragic and affecting. As one of the lesser hyped films of the festival, The Christening is a fine example of the recently rejuvenated eastern European market and a superb thriller by anyone’s standards.

All of these films will either be on general release this year in the UK or already are, and it is important in the current climate of uncertainty that surrounds film festivals that Glasgow is seen to remain current, as well as recognising the cinema of the past. The mix between old and new at the festival was well balanced, as was the selection of British, Hollywood and foreign films on offer.


On the whole, the festival was a success, selling more tickets than any previous year. Considering the financial situation many people find themselves in these days, it is encouraging to note that Glaswegians will still go out of their way to go to the cinema, not only to see the latest Hollywood offerings, but to experience more challenging, original offerings from all over the world. PK

SPECIAL FEATURE: Film Review: 12 Angry Lebanese: The Documentary

Film: 12 Angry Lebanese: The Documentary
Running time: 78 mins
Director: Zeina Daccache
Starring: N/a
Genre: Documentary
Country: Lebanon

This film will be screened at the Human Rights Watch Film Festival, which takes place in London between 23rd March and 1st April, 2011. Find out more about this event by clicking here.

This is a new and completely unique take on Reginald Rumet’s original play 12 Angry Men, made famous by the film of the same name starring Henry Fonda. In this production however, the stakes are much higher – it may just be the salvation of the real-life angry men taking on the roles.

Forty-five male criminals, serving long sentences in prison for crimes such as drug trafficking, rape and murder, have no hope for their future. They do not feel that they can ever succeed in anything other than crime. Zeina Daccache, a filmmaker, director and writer, is the woman who believes she can change this. By turns charismatic, energetic and furious, she takes the prison by storm and leaves the prisoners in awe of her. They even nickname her ‘Abu Ali’ because of her ability to terrify them into submission.

Fifteen months later, this group of hardened criminals are in dress rehearsal for this play about the justice system. Not only have they learned how to act, looking for all the world like members of a jury, they have taken ownership of the script and added their own touches, including music and dance routines. They have discovered musicians, composers, dancers and choreographers in their group. Each man has found a passion for the performing arts he never knew existed. Zeina has coached and nurtured them all to this point, using a mixture of tuition, therapy and tough love. Each of the main actors – the 12 Angry Lebanese – have a chance to tell their own story during interviews with Daccache and these are interwoven to the footage of rehearsals.

The cast go through the usual ups and downs involved with putting on a play: the pressure to learn lines, committing to the rehearsal schedule and stage fright, but they are also unexpectedly rediscovering who they are as human beings, rather than just inmates of a prison…


From the opening shots, revealing the inside and outside of a Lebanese prison, it quickly becomes clear that this is not your average documentary. It is an extraordinary insight into life behind bars. It does not present the prisoners as either villains or victims, but it does offer them a voice.

The interviews with the actors/prisoners are a stroke of genius, explaining how and why each of the twelve men took part in the project. Zeina herself does not explain anything, she allows the men to tell it their way. This is very effective because it means the audience can engage directly with the men rather than being distanced by an intermediary - and the opening up of dialogue between prisoners and civilians is part of what the project is all about.

Zeina is an incredible teacher who is able to let go of her project and give it to her protégées; by staying somewhat in the background, she allows the documentary to really become the story of the 12 Angry Lebanese. Yet in her total lack of need for the limelight, she actually establishes herself as the central figure holding together this unruly group. She is a powerhouse of a woman who is not afraid to confront these men and let them know when she is angry. She does not give them any special treatment and expects nothing less than a professional performance. The film makes no big deal of her role and what she is taking on, because she also wrote and directed it. However, taking her own achievements for granted serves to make them all the more remarkable for the viewer.

The footage has been chosen and edited carefully to give us a rounded picture of the inmates, the performance and the significance it has for those taking part. It is by no means sentimentalised; that simply would not have worked in this film. Instead, it presents a very honest portrait of men who are paying the price for their crimes, but who are being offered some kind of redemption, however small and fleeting. This actually makes it all the more powerful when the men admit to crying in the toilets, feeling sick with nerves and the newfound pride they have – their frank admissions make it clear to the viewer that the project has had a profound and positive effect on the prisoners in a way that an indirect description never could.

The soundtrack to the film is provided by the music composed and performed by the inmates. It is by no means amateurish; it fits the documentary perfectly and showcases talents that a few months ago even the musicians themselves had forgotten or did not know they possessed. The whole thing comes together to create a powerful demonstration of what can happen when people are given a second chance. Rather than leaving these men simply condemned and allowing them to wallow in anger, they have been given a voice which allows them to recognise and accept their feelings. It is perhaps a deliberately ironic twist that the play they are performing is all about judging somebody and deciding on his fate when the viewer is asked only to listen to the prisoners and not judge them in any way. The play was clearly chosen to get the prisoners to think about trial and retribution, but this dual layer also has the same effect on the audience. What comes across through all of this is that Zeina Daccache has astounding vision which she has executed with great aplomb, both in her work at the prison and in this documentary.


Incisive and startling, 12 Angry Lebanese is a tour de force which confronts its audience honestly and openly. It is compelling viewing. KS

NEWS: Glasgow Film Festival Takes International View

The Glasgow Film Festival takes place between 17th and 27th February 2011.

Amongst the screenings of interest to readers of this website are:

Apnea (Greece)
Apnea is the breath control technique used by divers and swimmers to stay under water for minutes at a time. It can cause hallucinations. In the case of swimming champion Dimitris (Sotiris Pastras) it brings on guilt-ridden recollections of his relationship with Elsa (Youlika Skafida), a beautiful environmental activist. He had chosen to concentrate on his training rather than accompanying her on a Greenpeacestyle mission. Now she is missing and he waits anxiously for news, re-examining the past.

Nothing's All Bad (Denmark)
Acutely observed scenes of toe-curling embarrassment blend with the bleakest of black comedy as we meet the lonely Ingeborg who is retired and widowed on the same day, schoolteacher Anna who has had a mastectomy, impossibly handsome Jonas who sells sex to anyone willing to pay and his father Anders who seems ruled by unhealthy sexual urges. Their lives will cross in the most unexpected and poignant of ways.

Cell 211 (Spain)
Spanish regular Luis Tosar is on blistering form as Malamadre, the ruthless ringleader of a prison riot. Alberto Ammann matches his intensity with a sensitive performance as Juan, a young prison guard. Newcomer Juan is being shown around the high-security facility when the riot erupts. His only hope of survival is to trade on the fact that none of the inmates have previously seen him, and so he pretends to be one of the cons. What ensues is an intense, claustrophobic cat-and-mouse thriller.

When We Leave (Germany)
Sibel Kekilli gives an outstanding performance as Umay, a German-born Turkish woman who flees her abusive husband in Istanbul. She arrives at the family home in Berlin with her five-year-old son. Her family welcome her with love but it quickly becomes apparent that they cannot accept her rebellion or her refusal to submit to her fate. She has brought shame to the family, love turns to rejection and outright hostility as she is forced to defy them and make a new life as a free western woman.

Our Life (Italy/France)
Elio Germano is utterly compelling as a man whose strongest failing is his desire to do the best for the people he loves the most. Cocky building site foreman Claudio (Germano) is devoted to his wife Elena and their two young sons. When she dies in childbirth, the world comes crashing down around him. Determined to provide for his boys, he embarks on a career as a building contractor where the best of intentions soon lead to impossible dilemmas. An emotional tale worthy of comparison with the films of Ken Loach…

For more information on foreign screenings at the event, visit the festival’s official website by clicking here.

NEWS: Sparrow Screening At Asian Movies Meetup

For the February Asian Movies Meetup, the group are heading to Barrio Central, Poland Street, London.

There will be a free screening of Sparrow, a romantic pick=pocketing caper by one of Hong Kong’s most respected director, Johnnie To.

Two rival pick-pocketing gangs face off on the streets of Hong Kong over a beautiful woman – romance and chivalry’s definitely still alive!

Beautiful Hong Kong scenery as only Johnnie To can capture, a jazzy uplifting soundtrack reminiscent of French New Wave films, and the impeccably cool Simon Yam are the perfect ingredients for our Valentines film.

The film starts at 7.30pm on 14th February 2011.

For more information on this meetup, click here.

NEWS: Birds Eye View Film Festival 2011

The seventh Birds Eye View Film Festival, like the first, will open on International Women's Day. The event, which celebrates a century of women filmmakers, will be staged between 8th and 17th March 2001 at the BFI Southbank, ICA and Southbank Centre in London.

Amongst the films being screened are:

In A Better World Haevnen (Denmark, Director: Susanne Bier)
Claus moves to Denmark following his wife’s death. Anton, recently separated from his wife, commutes from Denmark to an African refugee camp. As each family deals with conflict and grief, their sons form an extraordinary and dangerous friendship with potentially tragic consequences. Ultimately, all must choose between forgiveness and revenge.

Women Of Hamas (Israel-Germany, Director: Suha Arraf)
Gaza’s controversial ruling party Hamas is known for its religious conservatism and hard-line politics but not for the empowered roles available to women. Palestinian-Israeli director Suha Arraf shows women leading public demonstrations and mothers torn between grief and pride as they stand beside their sons videoing their last statements as suicide bombers. With unprecedented access, this is an extraordinary, poignant and complex account of women whose lives are dominated by political struggle.

As well as features, there will be documentaries, shorts, silents, music, masterclasses, premieres, parties, and girls who do gore. “Birds Eye View presents an electric and eclectic ten days of the most inspiring, enchanting and challenging work by women across the world.”

For more information on the event, visit the festival’s official website here.

NEWS: A Third Window To The East

East Winds: A Third Window Film Festival will be staged between 11th and 13th February 2011.

According to the distributor Third Window Films, who are staging the festival in conjunction with the Coventry University East Asian Film Society, the goal of the event “is to raise awareness of Asian cinema to a university crowd who might normally not have much chance to catch Asian cinema on the big screen.”

With a 220-seater cinema at the University of Warwick, the event is promising cheap ticket prices and a variety of films from all over Asia – “a new type of cinema.”

Amongst the films being shown are:

Confessions (Director: Tetsuya Nakashima)
A grief-stricken schoolteacher acts on her suspicions that her students were responsible for the death of her daughter.

Kick The Moon (Director: Kim Sang-jin)
A follow-up to the Korean box-office smash hit Attack The Gas Station. A hilarious tale of romance gone wrong!

Memories Of Matsuko (Director: Tetsuya Nakashima)
After a college student learns that his long-lost aunt has been found dead in a park, he begins piecing together her tragic life.

Cold Fish (Director: Sion Sono)
A tropical fish shop owner is unwittingly roped in as a murder accomplice.

Confessions Of A Dog (Director: Gen Takahashi)
This screening includes a Q&A with the film’s director.
Violence, illegal pay-offs, drugs, intimidation: an epic exposé of the most dangerous gang on the streets - Japanese law enforcement.

The Message (Director: Kuo-fu Chen & Qunshu Gao)
This screening includes a Q&A with director Qunshu Gao.
An Agatha Christie-style drama about WWII Chinese government agents trying to unmask a spy for the resistance.

For more information on the event, visit the Warwick Arts Centre’s website here.

Memories Of Matsuko

SPECIAL FEATURE: Festival Review: Zipangu Fest 2010

Confessions Of A Dog

Thursday, 16th – Sunday, 19th December 2010

Curated by Midnight Eye alumnus Jasper Sharp, November’s inaugural Zipangu Fest in London offered UK audiences a cinematic smorgasbord of Japanese rarities. Titled after Marco Polo’s romantic noun for the nation, the festival’s catalogue was imbued with pioneer spirit. Electric and eclectic, its programme compiled genres high and low, unveiling jewels of the east to curious occidental eyes. Documentary, exploitation and art house movies – including several premieres – were showcased, with high profile guests and informative Q&A sessions enhancing the atmosphere of proceedings.

As a satellite extension of the event, Bristol’s waterside arts bastion, Arnolfini, screened six films derived from the parent programme. Delivering a warming glimpse of the rising sun to frigid climes, this was a fleeting opportunity to witness obscure fare often denied provincial exposure. Regretfully, the most guiltily generic of the films - self conscious schlockers such as Big Tits Zombie 3D and Mutant Girls Squad – were excluded, narrowing coverage to a respectable nub. Since neither sage Mr Sharp nor his departed emissaries were on hand to provide introduction, the films stood – and fell - on their own merits, sans context…


Children Of The Beehive – Director: Hiroshi Shimizu (1948)
Purportedly a classic, but little known in the west, the festival’s initial title warrants reappraisal. Shimuzu’s post war indie debut is a compassionate, humanist work, touching on some of the moral and social issues Kurosawa explored in his roughly contemporary noir, Stray Dog. A parabolic expression of Japan’s post-war malaise, this stirring road movie documents the efforts of an un-named soldier to usher a gang of street kids towards a better tomorrow.

With an almost complete absence of war guilt or bitterness, Shimizu’s edifying focus is on the immediate present – survival – and the future. The film’s protagonists are constantly on the move; and there’s rarely time for ennui or entropy to set in. A moving document of the epoch, the film is a rare glimpse of Japan sluggishly emerging from the twilight to enter a new dawn of economic ascension. Nobly, its director righteously endorsed his own rhetoric, adopting the orphans that comprise its cast – and proving that personal intervention can make a difference.

Annyong Yumika – Director: Tetsuaki Matsue (2009)
A fanboy’s threnody to a deceased Japanese adult star, Hayashi Yumika, Matsue’s documentary is more of a narcissistic refraction of its participants’ obsessions than a revelation of its elusive subject. Meeting with fans, critics and colleagues, director-cum-narrator discusses Hayashi’s cultural impact and appeal, embarking on a nostalgic road-trip to follow in her high-heeled footsteps. Researching an obscure entry in her canon, Junko – Tokyo Housewife, the director reassembles its cast and crew for one final act of moving homage.

Painfully overlong, this soporific and cringingly contrived effort provides little insight into Hayashi’s life. With a bare-bones introduction to the Japanese pink scene, there’s no perceptive assessment of her status in the industry, nor her motives for entering it. With scant biographical import, we’re left to speculate about Yumika’s rise (or fall) into porn, with an associate’s banal assertion that she was a “free spirit” typifying the film’s startling inanity. One lonely critic serves some lucid metaphysics, discussing the ephemerality of stardom, and Hayashi’s creation as a commercial imago. Most profound is his observation that, as long as she’s watched – her myth endures. But when the final pixel dims – she dies a second time.

Footed Tadpoles – Director: Tomoya Maeno (2009)
The third film from a precociously youthful writer-director, Maeno’s comic coming-of-age yarn was the most generic of the festival’s offerings. A wry no-mance, it’s a familiar tale of boy meets girl. Or boy surveys girl, at least.

Junior high school pupil Toru (played by the director) has a white-hot crush on bespectacled super-swot, Nanae. Sadly, possessing the suavity of a doorstop, he can only yearningly ogle her from afar. Much to his disdain, Toru learns that Nanae will shortly depart for the prefecture’s elite academy, Joto High. A terminal slacker, this revelation spurs our protagonist into action. Persuading his mother to hire a private tutor, he resolves to correct his underachieving bent and, with the help of some nifty dance steps, moonwalk his way into Nanae’s affections.

An engaging, if predictable romp, Maeno’s film is most satisfying when he combines the tender, awkward flushes of first romance with surreal vignettes.

Toru’s camp tutor instigates much of the absurdity, devising a curriculum which will make him a ‘real man’ by mastering some flamboyant boogie. Convinced his aphrodisiac jiggery will woo Nanae, Toru spontaneously busts into an amateurish, Wacko-Jacko routine for her – to crushing indifference. The godlike powers of prance are finally vindicated when an imperilled Toru strips to his underpants and, with a lusty “OW!”, paralyses his foes with some slick pirouettes. Now that’s bad.

Live Tape - Director: Tetsuaki Matsue (2009)
Matsue’s second entry on the programme is an oblique, ingenious concept. Essentially a one-take concert film, its apparent simplicity belies multiple layers of action, as both its star attraction, members of the public and cast seamlessly interweave. So spontaneously verité is the reactive camerawork, it’s nigh on impossible to gauge at what point reality is subtly augmented by effortlessly naturalistic mise en scene.

A devious mesh of art film and music video, this novel effort is perhaps more rewarding as idea than idiom. Inevitably repetitious, star Kenta Maeno’s oeuvre and generic rock star affectations may fail to impress dilettantes, leaving a certain vacuity at the heart of a brilliantly conceived trompe l’oeil. Yet, as its atmospheric finale segues to titles, one is left retrospectively questioning all that they’ve witnessed before. Certainly the most daring movie on the bill, Matsue deserves kudos for this bold, beguiling experiment.

NN-891102 - Director: Go Shibata (1999)
The spectre of the bomb is omnipresent in Japanese popular culture. As implied menace, or explicitly, in Godzilla and anime Barefoot Gen, the nightmare lingers. A modern addition to this fearful canon is Go Shibata’s little heralded NN-891102, a title which connotes the film’s thematic and formal penchant for experiment. Whereas the festival’s earlier post-nuclear entry, Children Of The Beehive, is a primarily corporeal affair, Shibata’s abrasive tour-de-force is an apocalyptic psychodrama, glimpsing the internal reverberations of the bomb. A macabre visual rhapsody, NN-891102 amplifies the ceaseless death-rattle inside one man’s skull.

Like shards of shrapnel, figments of Reichi’s past, present and subconscious collide; transforming the narrative into an ephemeral text comprised of reverie and reminisce.

Using a striking gamut of effects, the film is a sensory tour-de-force, channelling a stream of scarred consciousness. Ravishingly shot, a succession of striking filters – orange, sepia and blue – colour co-ordinate Reichi’s past, accentuating the force of NN-891102’s subjective ellipsis. Bravura editing compliments the director’s visual brilliance, his superb evocation of angst pummelling the viewer in a tsunami of lyrical montage.

Confessions Of A Dog - Director: Gen Takahasi (2005)
Written, directed and edited by indie provocateur Gen Takahashi, Confessions Of A Dog is a searing indictment of police corruption. Billed as a Japanese answer to Serpico, its rhetoric is similar, but the diagnosis: terminal. Sidney Lumet’s classic provides righteous closure, viewing institutionalised graft as a disease to be rooted out. Takahasi’s pessimistic film conceives the entire institution as a monolithic parasite, so inextricably permeating all levels of Japanese society, that the cancer is inviolable. With fatalistic weariness, and only a sliver of triumphalism, this inflammatory epic insists that the biggest yakuza gang of all are the boys in blue.

Offering much intrigue, but little palpable tension throughout its three hour running time, Takahashi’s film is padded with high level connivance that mars its pace. Slowed to a TV-drama torpor, Takeda’s fatalistic collapse assumes the momentum of quicksand. One advantage of this epic, multi-generational range is its depressingly circular trajectory; revealing a new bunch of recruits that succumb to familiar temptations. Regrettably, by the time the film’s combustible finale ignites, this detailed study of the banality of evil has too often consigned itself exclusively to the banal.


Unfortunately, each of the festival’s screenings were sparsely attended, creating a slightly disconcerting vacuum where muttering, sporadic laughter and popcorn rustling should have filled the void. Apparently reserved for a few hardened Japanophiles, this was a tepid response to a bold schedule. Fittingly, the festival served at least one turkey in time for Christmas, but none of its offerings deserved the apathetic welcome they received. At least one of the films – Go Shibata’s edgy, gracefully apocalyptic NN 891102 – approached the realms of the visionary. Cinema such as this is potent enough to concretise nebulous eulogies like ‘visual poetry’. Four people in Bristol now know this.

Meanwhile, across the river, the city’s other alternative cinema – The Watershed – was unrolling a part seasonal programme comprising canonical faves like It’s A Wonderful Life. This was clearly the ‘other cinema’: the different stuff, the far-out stuff, the essence of whatever it is readers of this website hope to experience. Where were you? And what was amiss? Anarchic weather, festive consumerism, poor publicity and erratic content are all culpable. But a post-mortem would be premature. Perhaps running the event earlier, alongside the mother-festival – facilitating occasional guest appearances – might boost its profile next year, eluding the seasonal slowdown. Because this ambitious festival richly deserves a rerun.


Sequels are always inferior to an initial instalment, according to cliché: but hopefully the Zipangu Fest’s second year will defy that maxim. Think Empire Strikes Back rather than Phantom Menace, y’all. DJO

Children Of The Beehive

SPECIAL FEATURE: Festival Review: 24th AFI Fest – The Highlights

Oki's Movie

Among the South Korean cinema spotlight films at the 2010 AFI Fest was the Hong Sang-soo double bill of his latest work, Oki’s Movie and Hahaha, the latter the winner of the Un certain regard prize at this year’s Cannes International Film Festival.

Hong Sang-soo’s cinema is insular in its visual and thematic preoccupations. His dissection of relationships and friendships between men and women, young and old, parents and offspring, and his attention to form, especially through parallels and repetitions continuously challenge any straitlaced, linear narrative structures, forms, and spectatorship. In turn, they challenge any straightforward approach to writing about them, with their multiple temporalities, perspectives, and intimate interweaving character trajectories. With these two films, Hong affirms the cinema-as-life, life-as-cinema overlap that hinges on the triangular relationship of two men/women and one man/woman on the one hand, and the filmmaker, film, and spectator on the other hand.

Oki’s Movie tells of a young woman’s succeeding set of relationships with a film professor and a fellow film student-filmmaker. Hong presents this love triangle through four short, interrelated films or segments, according to one of the characters’ perspectives. The first three segments present the perspectives of the men, while the last one presents that of the woman. Although the temporalities of each segment overlap, nevertheless there is a subtle chronological development that traces Oki’s romance with Professor Song, its conclusion, and the start of a romance with student filmmaker Jin-gu.

Hahaha takes the premise of the love triangle and multiplies it by two. It is about two male friends, Mun-kyung and Ban-shik, who meet before one of them leaves South Korea. They exchange anecdotes of recent happenings in their lives, as they drink shots; each anecdote is punctuated by a shot. Their meeting is presented through black-and-white photographs/film stills, while their exchanged anecdotes take place unknowingly in the same seaside town of Tong-yeong where Mun-kyung’s mother has a globefish restaurant, and where Jun-shik’s poet friend lives. Because of the smallness of the town, each man encounters at some point each woman who may or may not be going out with one of the other two men. Though unaware of each other’s links and overlaps, the film follows Mun-kyung pursuit of a strong-willed, history-loving woman (Moon So-ri) who in turn is in love with Jun-shik’s young, immature, confused poet friend. Jun-shik, in turn, has his girlfriend join him, even though he is married and has a child.

In Oki’s Movie, one senses the squirming of a turn to lightness in tone and a kind of amusing frivolity that’s less oppressive for all parties (spectator and characters) than in previous Hong films. Among the four film segments, the last one, ‘Oki’s Movie’, is the most memorable, nearly endearing, and wistful. The preponderance of male perspectives of the first three films-segments was getting tiresome, so having the woman’s point of view was refreshing, to say the least. ‘Oki’s Movie’ is also the most literal presentation of Hong’s predilection for parallels and repetitions. For one thing, it is presented as Oki’s student film. Secondly, it consists of Oki visiting Mount Acha on two different occasions, with Professor Song on the first occasion, and Jin-gu on the second. Through voiceover, she compares and contrasts her feelings and everyone’s actions on each occasion, which creates a fifth film per se for the spectator, a film space created by these accumulated points of view with which to reflect ultimately upon issues like positionality, habitus, place, meaning, and their fleeting, yet meaningful qualities, especially in the context of love and romance. In this sense, ‘Oki’s Movie’ is a kind of emotional and intellectual payoff whose meaning emerges only after following the three other film segments. Despite a belaboured feeling due to the film’s literalness in its segmented form, which makes the relationships and characters a little bit forced and ultimately less memorable than the film’s form, it contains what is perhaps one of the most nightmarish Q&A experiences, where an ex-girlfriend’s friend turns the Q&A for Jin-gu’s film into an interrogation of why he broke her heart.

If Oki’s Movie delivers only in spots, in contrast, Hahaha is my favourite Hong film thus far. The entomological-like attention to relationships is still present, as is the attention to place, repetition, parallel, and multiple points of view overlapping dynamically with each other. But this time, Hong presents this musical chair-type of encounters, breakups, pursuits, regrets, and arguments in such an effortless, laughing-at-them-because-he-loves-them way that it’s nearly parodic, and thus charming. Even the formal strategy of showing the friends’ drinking meeting through black-and-white photographs/stills is made jovial, reflecting the playful suspension of time passing in their meeting against the film’s other temporalities contained in the anecdotes. Indeed, their conversation and drinking anchor the film’s criss-crossing and migratory narrative.

The two friends’ opposite personalities complement the film’s juggling act of anguish and unconcern. On the one hand, Jun-shik’s narrative trajectory references by far the most strained, overly intellectual, cynical, tormented male characters in Hong’s oeuvre, so that to call Hahaha a comedy from his point of view would be anything but painful irony. His dry laugh that marks a lot of his scenes comes from a deep, dark corner of his angst-ridden psyche, and gives an explicit demonstration of that painful irony.

On the other hand, providing some of the most endearing comic situations is Kim Sang-kyung as the unemployed filmmaker Mun-kyung. He pursues Seong-ok with all the bumbling, sweet awkwardness of a gangly newborn, and cries with as much abandon for his love for his mother as much as for the historical figure Admiral Yu, whom he mysteriously encounters at one point in the film. During their droll master-pupil conversation, where Mun-kyung is on his knees, he begs Admiral Yu for keys to the doors of inspiration.


With these two films, Hahaha in particular, Hong all but illustrates how he not only has the keys to the doors of inspiration, but he has let us in to share it, with a cool, comical aplomb. RSA

SPECIAL FEATURE: Festival Review: 24th AFI Fest

Thursday 4th – Thursday, 11th November 2010

The premiere and longest-running Los Angeles International Film Festival operated by the American Film Institute may be in its 24th year, but this year’s fest was only the second in which it presented free tickets to all screenings to regular festival/film-goers and novices alike. Moreover, this year saw several debut roles: new Festival Director Jacqueline Lyanga, who took the place of pioneering Artistic Director Rose Kuo; and the first ever Guest Artistic Director, David Lynch.

There is a paradox built into being a press badge holder at a film festival where tickets to all screenings (including Special Galas and Opening/Closing Nights) were free. The advantage of a free film festival, especially of AFI Fest’s caliber, is that more people who would otherwise not take the time to watch less accessible cinematic fare get to do so, and engage in that old-fashioned activity called film-going (as opposed to other viewing platforms). The disadvantage is that it must sacrifice the number of screenings and get rid of repeat ones; if one misses a screening, there are no next-day ones to recuperate one’s daily quota of three or four. So the stakes of choosing which ones to attend become higher. Below is a rundown of the hits and misses of my choices.

The number of Asian productions showcased this year was a hearty welcome compared to last year’s slim pickings. Five films constituted the contemporary South Korean cinema spotlight (it would have been six had Kim Ji-woon’s I Saw The Devil not been pulled from the line-up). Im Sang-soo’s remake of The Housemaid (2010), forming a double bill with the original 1955 film directed by Kim Ki-young, takes up the love triangle of a young maid and her rich husband-and-wife patrons, and the familial, socioeconomic havoc of suffering and revenge that it wreaks. Apart from lead actress Jeon Do-yeon looking like she hasn’t aged in ten years, and still showing her dramatic skills, however, The Housemaid is sadomasochistic at best and boring at worst.

Speaking of sadomasochistic, Jang Cheol-so’s Bedevilled (2010) fits this bill to a tee. It traces in painstaking detail a young woman’s experiences of abuse at the hands of her husband, her brother, and matriarchs in an isolated island off of the South Korean peninsula. She eventually takes her murderous revenge on all those who have literally violated her on the island, and continues a spree of violence when she arrives on the mainland. Looked at from the lens of sociopolitical cinema, the film disappoints for not going far enough; looked at from the lens of horror/exploitation, I can begin to fathom why it continues to receive such critical acclaim.

In contrast, Lee Chang-dong’s Poetry (2010) charms and touches at the same time. As in most of Lee’s films, the unfolding of narrative and character delineation is highly meditative. But it’s what makes his films that much more engaging to watch; one accompanies the jolts, epiphanies, and gaps in memory that Mi-ja (the radiant Yoon Jeong-hee) experiences, as her brain slowly succumbs to Alzheimer’s disease. Her decision to take a poetry class to combat the development of Alzheimer’s reconnects her with words and a different level of engaging with the world, which mirrors exactly what the spectator undergoes while watching this film.

Hong Sang-soo’s Hahaha (2010) and Oki’s Movie (2010) were rightly presented as a double bill; I say “rightly,” for seeing two Hong films back-to-back is perhaps the best way to get (re)acquainted with his rigorous film form, and his usual thematic preoccupations of relationship angst. Hahaha was arguably one of the fest’s highlights.

Other Asian fare saw established Japanese filmmakers Takashi Miike and Takeshi Kitano return to form. For Kitano, it’s the yakuza genre, deconstructed and yet made that much bloodier in Outrage (2010). Kitano plays a more supporting role this time around, a subset boss of his own entourage within a large yakuza organization that is in the process of imploding. But this implosion is very much intended in the battle for power that sees the apex of management pitting their subset bosses against each other in a web of lies, jealousy, rivalry, and masculine anxieties. It’s an unrelenting downward spiral of backstabbing (sometimes literally so). Though it does run on a bit, Kitano still has that touch of mixing quiet and suddenly extreme moments of fear/death/ killing to weave an intriguing, violent film universe.

Miike is less attached to a genre than a masterful mode of moody filmmaking. With 13 Assassins (2010), a remake of Eiichi Kudo’s 1963 film of the same name (which is in itself blatantly inspired by Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai), he has made one of his undeniable masterpieces. Here, too, is a world of implosion, this time during the Tokugawa era, when the shogun hires a samurai to bring together a group of assassins to get rid of a merciless and fickle young upstart in the shogun’s family. In some films, it may be all about the journey; but in this case, it’s all about the extremely bloody end, expressed by the mantra of “total massacre.” Only Miike could have pulled off a film in which a third of it is about samurais fighting and killing each other; he does so hypnotically and magnetically, with a quality of movement, pacing, and differing degrees of action that is hard to surpass.

Kiarostami’s Certified Copy (2010) also has a mesmeric quality, but of capturing the intimacy of a flawed relationship in public spaces, as if one is driving with the characters, sitting with them at a restaurant, strolling with them in a small Italian town and encountering strangers, and feeling the complicated push-and-pull of emotions, ambitions, disappointments and desires in a marriage. Contributing to this mesmerism is Luca Bigazzi’s soft, dusky cinematography, which dialogues exquisitely with Juliette Binoche’s and William Shimell’s faces, great presence and multilingual dexterity. A definite film of the year for me, as Kiarostami reinforces the power of his simple yet profoundly nuanced humanist, dialogic filmmaking.

One certainly has to give props to John Sayles for initiating a different kind of dialogue with Amigo (2010), which remembers the oft-forgotten Philippine-American War (1899-1912, not 1902). He filmed in the Philippines, worked with a Philippine crew, and assembled a transnational multilingual cast, on a very limited budget. It could have been a great opportunity to think about America’s series of forgotten wars in the context of the current wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. But his politics of remembering are so ponderous and static in narrative structure, dialogue, and performance that the effort seems all but misguided.

More assured was Trapero’s latest, Carancho (2010), which represents well his gritty exposé-like works of marginalized figures in Argentina. The title refers to the vulture-like behaviour of traffic accident lawyers who circle around traffic accident victims to take advantage of them in their cases. One such lawyer falls in love with a young doctor struggling to clock hours to rise up in the ranks, who he frequently encounters due to his scams. It’s a dark, violent, and competitive world (most of the film takes place at night) that Trapero presents, and he does so with a fine understanding of narrative and character. He makes so taut the situations for his shadow-crossed lovers (drug addiction, murder), drawing them to such extremes, that Carancho can be positively called a film noir.

Julia’s Eyes (2010), the second feature-length by Catalan filmmaker Guillem Morales and produced by Guillermo del Toro, also takes place mostly in semi/darkness. It is a visceral and visual take on horror films that deal specifically with vision and eyes (e.g. The Eye). Julia is slowly going blind, despite several eye operations to prevent it. Her ensuing blindness provides the backbone of the film’s suspense, and Morales gets the most out of it as the intense framework for Julia’s independent investigation of her twin sister’s death. This investigation leads her into close contact with a serial killer who is pathologically preoccupied with being un/seen, thus addressing the subjectivity of vision and visual knowledge. An interesting work that should be seen, especially for its sepia-toned colour scheme.


Under Kuo’s leadership, AFI Fest had revamped a diverse and vibrant programming, heightened last year with the “See the Film On Us” free festival project. All in all, this year’s film line-up equaled the quality, exploration, and variety of previous AFI Fests, while it also cleaned up some of the organizational hiccups of ticket distribution and access and crowd control from last year’s inaugural free festival. RSA