THOROUGHLY MIFFED - PART V: AT LONG LAST LOVE

Not much farther to go now... and bring yer shades: things get a little sunnier from here on in!

20th - TRIANGLE

The plan is simple, yet complex: one of Hong Kong's most famed action directors (let's call him Tsui Hark) concocts a heist picture, directing the first half hour... only to hand it over to another, equally legendary action auteur (say, Ringo Lam) who does the same for the next half hour, going to town, contriving all sorts of problems... which are to be solved by action legend #3 (played here by Johnnie To) in the last half hour. With the players are set, the game is afoot. Will they pull it off? Well, first, I have an embarrassing admission: I missed the first 17 minutes of this film, so I may not be the best judge, given I missed the crucial setup. However, the fact that I not only made head nor tail out of what followed, but really enjoyed it, can only work in the picture's favour, right? I've noticed since that this roundtable exercise in old-school HK action mayhem had a lukewarm reception from the fanbase, but I enjoyed the hell out of it for the exact same reason most of these people didn't: it's a total throwback to early 1990s HK action cinema, when Lam and Tsui were busting it up and emptying billions of bullets upon the screens of cult movie devotees like yours truly, before the American studios ripped everything off. It seemed to me, other than the introduction of mobile phones, TRIANGLE makes absolutely no attempt to be a 21st century heist film. I've been saddened by the gradual decline of Hong Kong action cinema, crushed by the raging cinematic storm from South Korea. Maybe I'm not seeing the right flicks, but since the INFERNAL AFFAIRS trilogy wrapped up, nothing to come out of HK has excited me. But let me be abundantly clear: TRIANGLE isn't the saviour -- there's way too many characters and not everything holds together -- but rather, a valentine. A jolt to remind me why I fell in love with Hong Kong genre cinema, way back in '93 (yes, I had to discover them all on SBS TV and thus arrived later than all you hardcore HK buffs, fuck you), and for that I'm eternally grateful to Tsui, Lam and To, once and forever masters of their domain. Now if only they'd pried John Woo from Hollywood complacency to join them... sigh.

19th - WEST 32ND

Ever wondered what John "Harold" Cho of HAROLD & KUMAR, ETC (lazy referencing, I know, but much better than calling him John "Mom I Love To Fuck" Cho) would be like as the lead in a US/South Korean crime drama? Well, wonder no more: catch yourself some WEST 32ND! Seriously, he's very good here, playing an ambitious New York lawyer doing some pro bono work, for a Korean immigrant family whose son has been accused of killing a Koreatown nightclub owner. While he feels some duty to his heritage -- not to mention the boy's very attractive older sister -- he really has a feeling this case might make him partner of his firm. Finding out the truth means getting to Mike, the leader of the kid's gang, who may or may not have put him up to it. Plunged into the criminal underbelly of NY's Koreatown, John (he's also called that in the film) finds himself in exploring a side of his culture completely alien to him, and finds in Mike an unexpectedly kindred spirit. Directed and co-written by Korean-American Michael Kang, the film is slick, fast, pretty and always engaging, and doesn't waste one of its economical 86 minutes. Sure, it's not without cliches, but the unique Koreatown setting, the terrific performances and Kang's focus on character elevate it somewhat. The ending seemed strange to me at first, but upon reflection I found it actually wrapped up rather smartly, and darkly, which is always a nice bonus. A tight, effective little flick.

18th - THE GUITAR

This tale of a young woman, stricken with throat cancer, who emerges from the worst day of her life -- she loses her job, breaks up with her boyfriend, and is informed she has a month to live -- hell bent on living her life to the fullest by loading up on credit cards and buying all the comforts she always wanted but could never have. This feature directorial debut for Amy Redford (daughter of you-know-who) is an occasionally implausible, feather-light fable on one hand, and a fantastic showcase for star Saffron Burrows on the other. Mainly due to Burrows' winning, almost childlike performance, the film is an entertaining, genuinely sweet tale with some intriguing stuff going on under the surface, as Burrows' character breaks taboos at the same speed she acquires objects. Redford doesn't quite nail the tone all the way through, as the film very much starts in a place of reality, then switches sharply to something more like, well, a movie. Interestingly, the picture feels very much like an extended student film, with some scenes running a little too long, a general lack of polish in regard to editing and storytelling, even its emphasis on one character and (mostly) one location. This cuts both ways, however, providing a slight hinderance yet adding to its charm. It's great to see a movie using Burrows this well -- the girl really can act -- and being a film with a woman front and centre that rarely surrenders to "woman's movie" cliches. Charming stuff.

17th - ROCK 'N ROLL NERD

Before MIFF, I knew just three things about Tim Minchin: his name, his deranged glare (seen from posters around the city during the Melbourne Comedy Festival) and the fact his comedy was musical in nature. In addition to what I knew, I had also heard he was pretty great, so I thought this rise-and-rise documentary might provide an excellent introduction to the man. Once I heard the opening verse to his song ROCK 'N ROLL NERD, and found it seemed to be describing me, I knew I would be rewarded; you can bet your last dollar when Minchin comes back to town, I'm buying a ticket. This documentary has the fortunate grace to be made by a friend of the comedian, Rhian Skirving, who has captured that rare beast: a star rising from the ground up. The film literally begins with handycam footage of Minchin playing a tiny Melbourne venue, followed by candid footage of him at home, planning the embryonic stages of his career, and goes from there. As the film follows Minchin performing his first Melbourne Comedy Festival show to the high-pressure stakes of the Edinburgh Festival and back again for his highly anticipated follow-up, you would think the film would grow sycophantic and cloying, but it's remarkably even-handed. Skirving just sits back, following Minichin with his camera through all moods -- even when the subject grows annoyed -- highs and lows and captures some amazing moments. Ever wondered what it would be like to be a comedy festival sensation and be courted by promoters and agents? You'll find it all here, in absorbing detail. In addition to the narrative, there's plenty of concert footage to illustrate what all the fuss is about. One particular sequence, which details the genesis, development and first performance of the sophomore show's signature song, SO F**KING ROCK, is balls-out brilliant, and I guarantee the song will be bouncing around your head when you leave the theatre. A treat for both Minchin fans or, like me, those new to his charms, this is a riveting fly-on-the-wall experience.

16th - ACOLYTES

I, for one, am excited that Australian filmmakers and -- more significantly -- Australian funding bodies are rediscovering a taste for genre films. We have such a rich and varied history in them (as evidenced in a certain docu which ranks very highly on this list... there's a spoiler!) it's a real shame when we all but give them away, as what occurred during the 1990s. But thanks to WOLF CREEK's success, "Ozploitation" is starting to enter what may be its second coming. ACOLYTES is very much a thriller with audiences in mind, from its lurid serial killer plot to its slam-bam sound design, which jolts you out of your seat more than once. Basically, three teenagers live in fear of a local bully until they discover they share their suburb with a serial killer, and... well, I'm not going to divulge any more. Only to say that all performances are top notch, especially from Joel Edgerton, as the very suburban slayer, and an unrecognisable Michael Dorman (ironically, the man who replaced Edgerton on SECRET LIFE... I always knew he had a performance like this in him) as the bully. Director Jon Hewitt, who has previously directed edgy, ultra-low-budget guerilla genre works, does a nice job of building suspense and keeping his first big(ger)-budget picture slick, tight and active and, like all the Aussie films I saw at this year's fest, it's gorgeously shot and all technical work is top-drawer. The script -- where most Australian films go wrong -- for this one (by Queenslanders Shane Krause and Shayne Armstrong, with Hewitt) is better than most; while it utilises its fair share of cliches, it manages to turn a good many of them on their head. It isn't going to make anyone rethink the genre, but it's smart, entertaining and nicely done, and for an Australian thriller, that's a huge tick.

15th - MAN ON WIRE

By 1974, French professional tightrope walker/nutcase Philippe Petit had already successfully completed wire walks over the Notre Dame cathedral and the Sydney Harbour Bridge -- unsanctioned and totally illegal, of course -- so he was naturally looking for his next challenge, but this one had to be huge, legend-etching stuff. While flipping through a magazine in a doctor's office, he innocuously found his muse: the still-under-construction Twin Towers in New York City. Soon to become the world's tallest buildings, they provided the tightrope Everest Petit craved. This vibrant, hugely entertaining documentary is the tale of how Petit did it, step by agonising step, much of it told in gregarious style by the likeable Petit himself, as well as his revolving door of accomplices. Termed at the time "the artistic crime of the century", the operation is scoped, planned and executed like a heist, and director James Marsh makes the brilliant choice to treat it as such, with camera angles, music and amusing reveals of interview subjects -- even branding them with OCEAN'S ELEVEN-like nicknames -- with the flavour of a Jules Dassin flick. I won't say any more, except to urge you to see it; it's one of the most purely fun documentaries you'll ever see, an absolute popcorn doc.

14th - LIONEL

A authoritative, affectionate, and affecting, documentary about legendary Aboriginal boxer Lionel Rose, the man who became the first Aboriginal Australian to win a world boxing title. While he may be a household name to boxing enthusiasts and Aussies over 30, most people tend to forget what a towering figure he was here in the 1960s. Forthright, boyishly charming, self-effacing, terrific with the media and even better with his fists in the ring, Rose was a flat-out superstar in this country, winning Australian of the Year and even recording a Number 1 hit single! Upon returning from his bantamweight title fight against Harada in Japan, he was greeted by over 100,000 people on the steps of Melbourne Town Hall. This beautifully crafted film shows us all this, his gradual fall -- weight problems derailing a ill-fated comeback, battles with drinking, losing his winnings, and being convicted of a stupidly small-time burglary -- and subsequent rebirth as an elder statesman of the indigenous community, as director Eddie Martin employs an arsenal of virtually every surviving scrap of archive and news footage, as well as some beautifully shot present-day interviews and intimate segments of the man relaxing with family and alone. What's really striking about this documentary, besides the thoroughness of it, is that it just oozes class and love, yet doesn't sugar-coat its subject. It's like a documentary made by your best friend, who will show the world why you mean so much to them, yet won't shirk from showing your difficult or dark side... but all delivered with the affection and sensitivity of someone who'd lie in traffic for you. (I believe Martin is quite close to the Roses personally.) A riveting, warmly funny, occasionally tragic and ultimately enriching portrait of the first 60 years of one of this country's greatest athletes.

13th - GONZO: THE LIFE AND WORK OF HUNTER S. THOMPSON

In what is fast becoming to be a yearly tradition, MIFF rolls out yet another documentary about the late, great maestro of Gonzo, Hunter S. Thompson. Not that I'm complaining; I could seriously watch this dude for hours, he's just so incredibly brilliant, funny, perceptive, loose and, of course, batshit bananas crazy. This time, it's recently Oscar-anointed documentary filmmaker Alex Gibney (TAXI TO THE DARK SIDE) whose lens is trained on the subject, and he directs with great pace, style and verve, and really makes a film out of it. While showing us plenty of archive footage we've seen before -- notably in last year's excellent MIFF-screened docu BUY THE TICKET, TAKE THE RIDE: HUNTER THOMPSON ON FILM... there's only so much vision to go around, I guess -- this film makes an effort to focus on events of Thompson's life I knew little about but mere lip service; namely, his vehement support for 1972 Democratic Presidential candidate George McGovern, and Thompson's own campaign for Sheriff of his adopted hometown of Woody Creek, Colorado. Narrated by Hunter's screen alter ego Johnny Depp, featuring vox pops of varying (mostly ace) insight from everyone from childhood friends to Depp and Sean Penn, and put together with panache, Gibney's film is a document every bit as entertaining as its subject, even if it isn't quite the definitive record it strives to be.

12th - CALIFORNIA DREAMIN' (ENDLESS)

Firstly, I have to say, I take small issue with the "Endless" tag placed upon this work. The film has been labeled such as its Romanian director/co-writer, Christian Nemescu, was killed in a car accident before he got a chance to finish his edit, so it is allegedly being released to the world in the exact state the film's producers found it after he died. My issue is, it didn't feel endless to me... in any way. Essentially an extended battle of wits between an American Military Colonel (Armand Assante, who's fabulous) and an equally hardheaded station master, as the US Army are carrying NATO supplies on a train passing through Romania to Kosovo (this is set in the early 1990s), and need to get there ASAP. But they don't have the proper papers, which rubs the somewhat tyrannical station master, Doiaru, the wrong way, and no amount of "just get it done" phone missives from the US Army, or the Romanian government for that matter, can budge him. While this all plays out, many of the American soldiers and the local girls have one thing on their minds... particularly Assante's number one soldier and Doiaru's fiesty daughter, which certainly throws a spanner in the works. There's so much socio-political subtext going on in this film, nicely bubbling under the surface at all times, it spun me out a little, to the point where I wasn't sure I was absorbing as much as I should. The ending is highly satisfactory, and it's followed by a tiny little coda which works in a very ambiguous European way. For those expecting a long, dry, sombre, seemingly "endless" Romanian film weighed down by political subtext and the doom and gloom of war, prepare to be disappointed! This a film with a lot on its mind, but nothing more present than audiences. It's eminently watchable, shot and edited with effortless skill and, yes, frequently funny, even sexy! I hope Numescu is resting in peace, and if this is a harbinger of what was to come from this young man, then we're all the poorer for his absence.

11th - JESUS CHRIST SAVIOUR

Damn, this was fun to watch, even if at times it resembled a major disaster, somewhere between a ten car pile-up and a bridge collapse... take your pick. This isn't a documentary, it's a concert film, with some title cards from 2008 added, so here's the lowdown: In 1971, German actor Klaus Kinski, he of the uncomfortably intense mad-eyed stare and ever-shortening fuse, and tormentor of Herzog, performs a self-penned monologue at Berlin's Deutchlandhalle about the Messiah, called JESUS CHRIST SAVIOUR. Starting off by narrating around the events then switching to first person, Kinski is so into this it's very, very funny. But what's even funnier, and conversely, sadder and weirder, is the moment sections of the crowd start turning on him (particularly when some of seem to have attended precisely for this purpose) and, Kinski being Kinski, the actor can't resist the temptation just to yell comebacks and threats to these rogue elements, even while preaching his revisionist gospel in the third person (keep in mind, the "third person" is one Jesus H. Christ, esq.). Kinski is magnetically mad -- you've never heard the word of Christ until it's been screamed at you by an unhinged German -- the crowd are, by degrees, funny and annoying and watching Kinski walk off, start again from the beginning, walk off, and repeat over and over again, is an unwitting joke which packs an awesome punchline. The energy in the hall is born straight of late-60s unrest and the kids in the audience seem to carry a deep resentment of Kinski's financial status. Absorbing, highly entertaining stuff.

Oh my stars and garters, as Dr H McCoy used to say!! Have we reached my Top 10 Films of MIFF 2008????

That's right, ladies and germs, watch this space in a few days and we'll spank this puppy, wrap this sucker up and ride it all the way to Vegas. You know what I'm talkin' about? Oh. You don't? Hmm. Okay... you know where to meet me, I'll show you, you follow my lead.

It's the TOP 10 and IT'S COMING!!!*

(*and rest assured, no-one is happier about this than me!)

TSIK