Friday, September 5, 2008

THOROUGHLY MIFFED - PART VI: TEN FILMS TALL AND BULLETPROOF

Previously, on THOROUGHLY MIFFED...

THE RETROSPECTIVES:
9. WR: MYSTERIES OF THE ORGANISM
8. DEAD END DRIVE-IN
7. SPIDER BABY (DIRECTOR'S CUT)
6. JACK'S WIFE
5. TURKEY SHOOT
4. FOX AND HIS FRIENDS
3. KNIGHTRIDERS
2. ROADGAMES
1. MAD MAX 2: THE ROAD WARRIOR

THE COUNTDOWN FROM 50 to 11:
50. WORDS OF ADVICE: WILLIAM S BURROUGHS ON THE ROAD
49. ETOILE VIOLETTE (short)
48. INSIDE
47. DONKEY PUNCH
46. GOMORRAH
45. MODS
44. 40X15: 40 YEARS OF THE DIRECTORS' FORTNIGHT
43. MIFF FOOTY SHORTS
42. LITTLE DEATHS
41. THE PLEASURE OF BEING ROBBED

40. IDIOTS AND ANGELS
39. DEAD ON: THE LIFE & CINEMA OF GEORGE A ROMERO
38. REVERSE SHOT - REBELLION OF THE FILMMAKERS
37. ACCELERATOR PROGRAM 1 (shorts)
36. SURVEILLANCE
35. IN SEARCH OF A MIDNIGHT KISS
34. ASHES OF TIME REDUX
33. NIGHTWATCHING
32. SUKIYAKI WESTERN DJANGO
31. ACCELERATED FICTION SHORTS

30. WENDY AND LUCY
29. CELEBRITY: DOMENICK DUNNE
28. BRANDO
27. REDACTED
26. LET THE RIGHT ONE IN
25. OLD FISH
24. BEST MIFF SHORTS
23. LA ANTENA
22. SEVEN DAYS SUNDAY
21. DIARY OF THE DEAD

20. TRIANGLE
19. WEST 32ND
18. THE GUITAR
17. ROCK 'N ROLL NERD
16. ACOLYTES
15. MAN ON WIRE
14. LIONEL
13. GONZO - THE LIFE & WORK OF HUNTER S THOMPSON
12. CALIFORNIA DREAMIN' (ENDLESS)
11. JESUS CHRIST SAVIOUR

...and, now that you're all caught up... Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...


THE TOP TEN:

10. ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD
In another of the embarrassing gaps in my life as a film buff, I'd never actually seen a Werner Herzog picture; not GRIZZLY MAN, or the Kinski fever dreams, nothing. After my friend Lee went ape over Herzog's last two MIFF-screeners, WILD BLUE YONDER and RESCUE DAWN, I thought this might be a good place to start, and I wasn't disappointed. It wasn't a foregone conclusion: I found it a bit slow to launch, and a little heavy on the scientific gear early on (never a draw for me), but once he starts focusing on the people rather than their professional purpose, the film gets interesting, entertaining... and finishes up mesmerising. Springing from a longtime interest in Antarctica, Herzog decided to fly to the icy continent and apply his eye for behavioural nuance and eccentricity to how society works at what is, literally, the end of the Earth. What he finds there are heavy-machinery-driving philosophers, gay penguins, volcanologists, suicidal penguins, and a grown woman who can fit in a small suitcase. Among others. Herzog shoots and narrates with his hilariously dry German wit, which would be almost condescending if we didn't know already that he, too, is a near-certifiable eccentric. These are his people. He's critical of some of the more commercial developments of these outpost stations, and while he may poke a little gentle fun at the people who live there, you get the strong impression he feels a kinship to these outsiders of society, who've sought a form of peace and satisfaction in the furthest place possible from, well, anywhere. Then, once we've wandered this world, Herzog's camera goes beneath it, into the sub-sub-zero waters beneath the ice, down amongst glacial structures which will make your eyes explode at their stunning, truly otherworldly beauty. This underwater footage is awesomely, breathtakingly, powerfully gorgeous, and utterly hypnotic in its natural splendour, reminding us that, just when we think we've seen every corner of this wonderful planet before, there's always further wonder to discover -- and further evidence that it's worth striving to save.

9. ROMAN POLANSKI: WANTED AND DESIRED
You've heard it all a thousand times -- famed director shtupps a minor and flees the US before he can be prisoned -- but this documentary is the first time we've gotten the chance to really listen. While never excusing Polanski his sexual misdeed, Marina Zenovich's documentary shows -- with present-day interviews from all sides of the case: both prosecution and defense lawyers, the victim, both friends and foes -- how a controversial case played out to conclusion time and again in the courts, only to be resurrected time and again and turned into a trial by media. One thing I didn't know about the case: Polanski actually took his medicine. He served the time the court originally recommended, in a genuine, military-style correctional psychiatric facility -- we're not talking the Betty Ford Center here -- but upon release, the media kept pushing and pushing the judge (an overly media-savvy type, and they knew it) beyond the point of everyone else involved with the case -- and that includes the victim's family. Like all such matters, nothing is as cut and dried as it seems, with almost every angle of the case, from the guilty to the innocent, subject to serious question. Riveting stuff, surprisingly level-headed and even-handed, and let me tell you something: if I was in Polanski's shoes, I would've fled the country when he did, too. Serving judicial punishment is part of your societal contract as a human being... serving as a sacrificial lamb for a hungry, venal media is quite another thing entirely.

8. THE WACKNESS
Jonathan Levine's somewhat autobiographical drama about a teenage dope dealer's summer of awakening in mid-90s NYC arrives with much hype and many awards, some of which are deserved, some, well, not. (It left with one too: it won the MIFF Audience prize for Best Feature Film.) It's a flashy little film, in terms of pace, dialogue, situations and eccentric performances, but isn't nearly as brilliant and revelatory as it thinks it is. It is undeniably entertaining, however, most notably due to the presence of Sir Ben Kingsley as a distinctly odd man-child of a psychiatrist, who rampantly steals every scene he's in and, ultimately, the movie. The film's other standouts are Josh Peck, as our protagonist, who trades marijuana to his psychiatrist (Kingsley) for sessions, and Olivia Thirlby (last seen in JUNO) as Kingsley's step-daughter... and the girl Peck falls for. Thirlby is fantastic, she's not only spunky but has this huge sharp New York charm going for her... Okay, I'm gonna say something that'll sound outrageous, but bear with me. I'm not building hype, or saying they're the same, or have the same range, or making any predictions, I'm just saying exactly what the words state: I think Thirlby's got a little Kate Hepburn in her. There, I said it. Just that smart mouth, stylish look and certain insouciance emblematic of those on the East Coast island. Either way, she's one to watch for, as is Peck, and they both bounce off Kingsley beautifully. THE WACKNESS won't change your life and doesn't have the indie snap anywhere near the level of, say, JUNO, but it will show you a good time.

7. ANVIL! THE STORY OF ANVIL
Okay, I have to confess something here. By all accounts, this is a real documentary and Anvil are a real band... but I'm still not sure if I buy it. It's all a little too perfect: two lifelong friends in a SPINAL TAP-esque metal band sliding into their early fifties, writing songs since their teens, now bickering amongst themselves, working crappy day jobs and wondering how much further they can push this "for the music", and the bass player's name is Robb Reiner for chrissakes (one more B than required, sure, but you get the picture). But, I'm assured they're real, and their story is real, so I approached it as such. And, as shown by director Sacha Gervasi, it's hilarious, horrifying, heavenly stuff. The catalyst for the story is this: they haven't recorded an album in years, over a decade since they did so under truly professional conditions, and are at the one-last-shot end of their rope. But when a rabid fan from Eastern Europe -- where Anvil apparently have a following -- offers them a chance to tour the continent, could it all change...? It sounds like a cliche, but this really takes you on an emotional rollercoaster, equal parts absurdly funny, tragic and poignant; I have to confess, of the 59 films I saw at MIFF this year, this was one of only two which made me shed a tear. A balls-out terrific film.

6. SOMERS TOWN
I've never seen any films from director Shane Meadows, responsible for last year's acclaimed MIFF closing film THIS IS ENGLAND, among others, so I decided to check out this sharp, charming and stunningly economical (72 minutes long!) look at a friendship between two mismatched boys in the eponymous rough & tumble English suburb. Meadows brings back his ENGLAND star Thomas Turgoose to play Tommo, a teenager who we first meet on a train trip from another town, ostensibly having fled his home. Tommo has a touch of the opportunistic con artist in him, but is otherwise an ingratiating kid who'll talk to anybody and go anywhere to escape his solitary life and find fun. Upon arrival in Somers Town, he meets Marek, a softly-spoken Polish immigrant living with his construction worker father, and they bond over a shared interest in French waitress Marie, whom they're both smitten with. This is largely simple storytelling, essentially following these lads as they get into rather harmless (though occasionally criminal) mischief and learn to grow up a little, but shot in starkly glorious black and white, with three extremely winning leads and Meadows' eye for behaviour and grip on reality makes it all the more involving and heartfelt. The film never wastes a second, the ending has a beautiful ambiguity to it, and its slim running time makes you wish more films could pack compelling relationships, atmospheric surrounds and a sweet, well-rounded story into 72 minutes. On the strength of this, I'll be checking out Meadows' back catalogue, sharpish.

5. MY WINNIPEG
Discovery. This is why we buffs love MIFF. You go in wanting to see something you haven't seen before, sample the works of acclaimed/cult filmmakers you know only by reputation, or revel in the culture of other nations. Seeing so many films, I barely had time to register, but upon reflection I discovered a lot at MIFF 2008: Tim Minchin, Werner Herzog, Shane Meadows, how much I really loved George A Romero, how much I really don't like modern French cinema... and joining this list, with a bullet, is Canadian eccentric Guy Maddin. My pals on The Bazura Project fell in love with this seemingly free-associative maniac at different junctures: Lee with last year's BRAND UPON THE BRAIN! and Shannon with Maddin's short THE HEART OF THE WORLD, which he considers the best short film he's ever seen. If you're not familiar with Maddin's work, he's across a trio of all-conquering obsessions: silent cinema, ice hockey and his hometown of Winnipeg, Canada. His style could possibly be described as David Lynch-meets-Georges Melies-meets-The Coens-meets-F W Murnau-meets... ah, forget it. As I found after seeing MY WINNIPEG, his extremely-pseudo-documentary valentine to his home, Guy Maddin's style is undeniably... Maddinesque. While his influences are far, wide and recognisable, the man isn't like anyone else. Some people consider this a documentary, but I wouldn't: it's more an adaptation of memory into unhinged feature form. The opening was a little rocky, and after the first 5-10 minutes, my hackles rose... it felt pretentious, arty, overly obscure, and had me thinking, "What the hell have I gotten myself into?" Now, if you find yourself in this situation: for god's sake, STAY. Just as quickly, the film hooks you into its worldview and you're being treated to one of the most hilarious, original, bollocks-bustingly brilliant films you've seen in many an age. The anecdotes he brings up about Winnipeg, and the spins he puts on them, are so nuttily surreal, you'll be begging to know how much is fact or fiction. Maddin will never tell, of course, although one gets the sense that, to him, this is exactly how it all happened. And his silent film-style title cards, which barge into scenes at comically explosive moments, are a scream. If you find yourself moaning about the lack of originality in cinema these days, track this down immediately.

4. SON OF RAMBOW
This brilliantly affectionate memoir of childhood, early 1980s England, movies, making movies and making mischief comes to us from writer-director Garth Jennings and producer Nick Goldsmith, otherwise known as music video/commercial auteurs Hammer and Tongs. The opening credits sequence is fabulous, instantly setting up the world and providing the perfect introduction to our protagonists, smart, polite, sheltered Brethren kid Will (Bill Milner) and boisterous, scheming, cheeky misfit Lee (Will Poulter). The two meet outside the school principal's office with Lee bullying Will into being a "stuntman" (read: human crash test dummy) for his film, which he's shooting with his older brother's video camera, normally used for taping films off cinema screens and pirating them. This leads to Will, a kid possessed with a big imagination but never allowed to watch TV, seeing a copy of FIRST BLOOD. He becomes obsessed with it and hatches a great idea for a film... While threatening to tip the cute-o-meter at times, it never goes overboard, due to the genuine affection the filmmakers have for their characters and their setting (apparently based loosely on Jennings' experiences as a kid), the pure energy and DIY spirit the film maintains at all times (and a flat-out brilliant homage to Truffaut's DAY FOR NIGHT) and the fantastic performances from Milner and, particularly, Poulter as the kids. SPACED fans will welcome the sight of Jessica Stevenson/Hynes (credited under her maiden name here) playing Will's strict Brethren worshipping mother, and she's terrific. SON OF RAMBOW is a rare family-skewing comedy: it's sweet without condescension, satirical without animosity and entertaining without reservation. See it.

3. TRUMBO
To explore the life screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, the most famed member of the "Hollywood Ten" (for those who don't know: during the 1950s a group of ten writers, producers and directors were blacklisted from the industry for the mere suspicion of attending Communist information meetings, and not dobbing in other possible attendees, during the witchhunt-style senate committee hearings run by the odious Senator Joseph McCarthy, and lost their careers and livelihoods for the sake of nothing but rampant government paranoia. Now, back to the show...), his son, playwright Christopher Trumbo, came up with a novel idea: he wrote a play which consisted of a clutch of actors reading, in character, his father's letters. It's a novel idea because Trumbo the younger knew better to stand back and give full vent to his dad's greatest weapon: his beautiful, magnificent words. This film documentary adaptation, gracefully directed by Peter Askin, assembles some of America's most talented actors (Liam Neeson, David Strathairn, Nathan Lane, Paul Giamatti, Michael Douglas, Brian Dennehy, Josh Lucas and even Joan Allen, among others) to perform the letters, interspersed with fond accounts from Trumbo's family members, friends and co-workers (such as Kirk Douglas and Dustin Hoffman). It's a simple yet classy and undeniably powerful tribute to a compassionate, funny and flat-out brilliant man; his letters (and archive footage of the man himself) show his astounding command of the English language -- with phrasing and wordplay matched by few, if any, American screenwriters this side of Aaron Sorkin -- as well as his utter honesty and humanity, making the senseless tragedy of the blacklist, and what it did to Trumbo and his friends, so much more heartbreaking. It's beautifully shot, skillfully edited and wonderfully acted; when it's not evoking genuine poignancy, it's being laugh-out-loud funny (hearing Nathan Lane reading Trumbo's letter to his son Christopher concerning the fine art of masturbation is one of the greatest things I've seen and heard this year) and always entertaining. Upon leaving this film, my friend Tim stated he wouldn't have a problem if it went for another two hours, and I couldn't agree more.

2. [REC]
Ohhhh yeah. Every year, MIFF manages to pull one genuine kick-arse horror flick out of the bag, and as good as those from past years have been -- SEVERANCE, THE DESCENT, WOLF CREEK, HAUTE TENSION, et al -- few have kicked my arse quite this hard. You see, the Spanish scarefest [REC] is the film I felt THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT should've been, and am both shocked and gratified that it took someone nine whole years to get around to making it. The setup is simple, then I shall say nothing else: A TV reporter and her cameraman are doing a puff piece on night shift at a fire station. It's all mundane until a routine call sends them to an apartment building, where a peculiar virus has broken out and anything resembling routine is blown to hell... This is 79 wonderfully brisk, visceral minutes of OH MY GOD!!! All sound and vision is recorded through the lens and mic of the lensman's news camera, and this device is used near-perfectly (there are one or two quick moments where the conceit is briefly betrayed, but it's blink-and-you'll-miss-it stuff) as the tension is expertly piled on and on and on by my new writer-directors-to-watch Jaume Balaguero and Paco Plaza (co-written with Luis Berdejo), building up to some of the most brilliant reveals you'll ever see. While it may not sport the most original concept, it simply succeeds where many horror films have failed: it remains tight and tense at all times, none of the characters are arseholes for the sake of the plot, everyone acts and reacts logically as can be under the circumstances (okay, save for one scene), and -- I can't stress this enough -- it gets the "verite" device dead right. Please, whatever you do, see this with a crowd, somewhere dark, with big picture and sound cranked up loud. It's made to be immersed in, to feel as real as possible, and unlike the cinematic con job that was BLAIR WITCH, it wouldn't dare rip you off... The filmmakers are having waaaaay too much fun scaring your pants off to dream of it. THE most purely fun cinematic experience of MIFF 2008.


...and now, my favourite film of MIFF 2008 is... (was there ever a doubt?).....................


1. NOT QUITE HOLLYWOOD
Of all the films I saw at MIFF 2008, this was the one which had the most effect on me, which pulled open my irises, which made me alive to possibilities. Because -- make no mistake -- NOT QUITE HOLLYWOOD could well be the catalyst which changes the Australian film industry for the next few decades. I sincerely believe it has that kind of power. But more on that later... I flipped when I heard this film was being made, when I heard it was MIFF's Opening Night film, when I saw the pumped-up, grab-thou-by-thy-nuts trailer... So, naturally, despite my best efforts to dial down my expectations and keep a lid on my enthusiasm, you can ascertain my reaction to seeing the final product. Mark Hartley's documentary, make no mistake, is a brilliant piece of work. It's everything a documentary should be: fast, absorbing, thrillingly alive, full of killer anecdotes from both key players and those most influenced or enthusiastic, snappily edited to a scorching soundtrack and, most of all, absolutely evocative of the period, the subject and the excitement which fueled it all. (How many documentaries demand repeat viewings??) Hartley knows why we should be interested, and shows us in grand style, but the heart of his film is a call to arms: it may ostensibly be a valentine to devil-may-care cinematic rogues making rough randy and ready exploitation flicks in this brown, wide, crazy country, but it's really showing us the heart, blood, piss and vinegar that once powered the Australian film industry, which we've since lost, and asking the simple question: Isn't it time for Ozploitation, version 2.0? And we return to my earlier point, which is, this film is designed to work on two levels: as a memoir for those who were there, who dug it or derided it the first time around, and as a mission statement for up-and-coming Aussie filmmakers who have longed to make wild, violent, fast, furious, nutty-as-fuck genre pictures in their home country, to craft widescreen terrors or titillation spoken in their own accent. I could go on about everything that glitters in this flick -- the wonderfully animated opening credits sequence backed by explosions and Rose Tattoo's "We Can't Be Beaten"; Quentin Tarantino's genuinely massive enthusiasm for and startling knowledge of Aussie genre cinema, even the most obscure titles, not to mention his terrific observations; Brian Trenchard-Smith's horror stories surrounding the making of THE MAN FROM HONG KONG; the forever curmudgeonly Bob Ellis disparaging everything in sight; and so much more -- but I think this film's ultimate worth will be as a call to revolution, to inject Australian low-budget cinema with the visceral genre-driven charge it's been so sadly missing for nigh on two decades. Mr Hartley, I thank you, I agree wholeheartedly and I'm signing the hell up. [cue Russian revolution choral music here] For the rest of you non-filmmaker audiences, just see it: it's brilliant, bawdy, bold, boisterous and bloody funny.


Well, it's been an epic journey, but hopefully an enjoyable one to read. If I have one hope in all this, one dream... it's my sincere hope I haven't bored you all shitless.

Thanks for reading, tell your friends, and farewell to thee, spanish ladies.


Music swells, fade to black, cue credits...


THE END.


"THE SLIGHTLY ILLUMINATED KNIGHT WILL RETURN IN MIFF 2009"