In Contention

Author: Guy Lodge

  • Oscilloscope nabs ‘Meek’s Cutoff’ for 2011 release

    Since word spread out of Venice of Michelle Williams’s strong performance in Kelly Reichardt’s superb Oregon Trail western “Meek’s Cutoff,” some of our more excitable commenters have been projecting a kind of two-pronged awards attack for the actress, who has another excellent showcase in December release “Blue Valentine.”

    We warned you all along that “Meek’s Cutoff” wasn’t likely to hit theaters in 2010, and we were right. Boutique distributor Oscilloscope has just acquired the film at Toronto, and will release it next year — the right call, given that a quiet wonder like this one would likely get lost in the crush of awards season.

    Oscilloscope (that’s Beastie Boy Adam Yauch’s outfit, in case you’d forgotten) also handled Reichardt and Williams’s last collaboration, “Wendy and Lucy”; I was hoping that their latest might prove accessible enough to attract one of the bigger boys in the indie playground, but I’m sure the company will do right by them. Yauch himself seems rather taken with the film; his statement (via indieWIRE) after the cut.

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  • Beautiful but doomed: Greece submits ‘Dogtooth’ for Oscars

    Last year, I was erroneously notified that Greece had submitted Yorgos Lanthimos’s boundary-pushing festival hit “Dogtooth” as their entry for the 2009 foreign-language Oscar. As it turned out, they hadn’t — and the film wouldn’t have qualified under the Academy’s release date requirements anyway.

    Well, one year later, and here we are again. Except this time, “Dogtooth” has officially been submitted by the Greek selectors, after taking top honors at the country’s own national film awards.

    All of which immediately positions it as one of the best films in the running for the Academy Award, as well as one of the longest shots to be nominated — unless the bluehair voters who thought “The Secret in Their Eyes” superior to “A Prophet” have suddenly acquired a taste for pitch-black adult fairy tales of sexual repression, incest and feline mutilation. But here’s hoping.

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  • Sony adds Almodóvar’s ‘Skin’ to 2011 slate

    No surprise at all, this, given that Sony Pictures Classics has distributed Pedro Almodóvar’s last five features in the US, but the specialty outfit has already started beefing up next year’s prestige lineup by acquiring the Spanish auteur’s next outing, “The Skin That I Inhabit.”

    We first reported on the film, which is currently in production, in May. (Back then, it was billed as “The Skin I Live In,” which is a considerably less clunky translation than the one they’re currently going with, I must say.) As much as any new Almodóvar piques my interest, this one has me particularly intrigued for two reasons.

    First, it’s the director’s first collaboration with former male muse Antonio Banderas in 20 years, and second, it’s reportedly a Gothic-flavored revenge thriller — a welcome shift in direction after “Broken Embraces” found him in something of a creative holding pattern.

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  • Step away from the Blair

    Regular readers (or Twitter followers) may have gathered by now that Peter Morgan isn’t my favorite high-end screenwriter on the scene — I’ve found his recent run of factional biopics, resulting in a pair of Oscar nods for “The Queen” and “Frost/Nixon,” increasingly smug and samey, and was pleased to see him attempting something a little different in Clint Eastwood’s “Hereafter.”

    Going on the mixed Toronto reception for the latter film, the jury is still out on whether Morgan’s flirtation with fiction — spiritually-tinged fiction, no less — has actually been successful. Either way, it would appear that Morgan is quite ready to return to his comfort zone, and more specifically, to his longstanding hobby-horse, Tony Blair.

    Morgan has now dramatized the career of the former British prime minister in three separate projects — with “The Queen” sandwiched by TV films “The Deal” and “The Special Relationship” — each of them giving actor Michael Sheen an opportunity to fine-tune his Blair impersonation.

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  • TIFF: Riseborough on the, uh, rise

    As Kris mentioned earlier, reaction out of Toronto to Rowan Joffe’s “Brighton Rock” has, so far, been on the guarded side, though it has found admirers — Time Out’s Tom Charity among them. Still, however the film lands, it does at least appear to confirm the arrival of Andrea Riseborough, the 29 year-old Brit who is something of a ubiquitous presence at this year’s fest, with supporting roles in “Never Let Me Go” and “Made in Dagenham” boosting her profile.

    It’s the plum role of Rose — the merits of which I discussed in Page to Screen — in the Graham Greene adaptation that is getting her noticed, however. You might remember that Kris had her in his Supporting Actress predictions until distribution doubts forced her out, but early notices suggest he was onto something. Writing for The Guardian, David Cox suggests that in Joffe’s adaptation, “Brighton Rock” emerges more as Rose’s story than anyone else’s, and that Riseborough carries the film mightily:

    [W]hether Joffé intended it to or not, Andrea Riseborough’s breathtaking performance as Rose soon overwhelms the drama. To say her achievement deserves an Oscar would be somehow to demean it.

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  • ‘Life, Above All,’ ‘Uncle Boonmee’ enter Oscar race

    I lost track of the foreign-language Oscar submissions while I was away in Venice, so the entry of my own favored horse into the race seems like a good occasion to catch up. If you kept up with my Cannes coverage, you might remember that I made a slightly off-center prediction while reviewing the South African AIDS drama “Life, Above All” — that it would secure a Best Foreign Language Film nod next year, and could even be the film to beat for the Oscar.

    I stand by that call, and it remains on track: South Africa, seeking its third nomination and second win in the category since 2004, has predictably submitted Oliver Schmitz’s film to the Academy. (Thanks to Bianca Jacobsohn for notifying me.) The film recently had its North American premiere at the Toronto fest, where it seems to have been warmly received, and has already been adopted by Sony Pictures Classics — the studio that dominated last year’s foreign-language race with three of the five nominees, including the eventual winner.

    I maintain that the film’s child’s-eye focus and heart-tugging issue drama place it squarely in the Academy’s wheelhouse — that it’s also a strong film only helps matters.

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  • A note on Chabrol

    I wouldn’t even know where to start writing an obituary for Claude Chabrol, the French nouvelle vague master who passed away yesterday at the age of 80. His filmography is so vast — spanning 52 years and 54 features, many of which I have yet to see — and his influence so extensive that formal tributes are best left to those more learned than I.

    Still, that’s not to say he hasn’t made a number of films that mean something to me, chief among them 1970’s “Le Boucher,” a character-study-as-thriller so perfectly and precisely formed it hurts a little to watch it. It was my first Chabrol, and indeed one of my first forays into the French arthouse canon, introduced to me in childhood by my dad — who counts it among his favorite films.

    I’ve inherited his affection: the film’s simple set-up — shy young schoolteacher  strikes up a friendship with a lonely village butcher who may or may not be a killer — is an undercoat for a deeply compassionate study of emotional repression and moral judgment, with a for-the-ages lead turn by his then-wife Stéphane Audran.

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  • TIFF: ‘Barney’s Version’ returns home, raves for Giamatti

    Last night’s North American premiere of “Barney’s Version” in Toronto was something of a homecoming for the Canadian production — it was, of course, first unveiled on Friday at the Venice Film Festival, where its soft-centered middlebrow appeal rather stood out against the more rigorous auteurism of its fellow Competition titles.

    If Richard J. Lewis’s film proved too MOR to impress Quentin Tarantino’s jury (even Paul Giamatti, much fancied for the Best Actor prize, left empty-handed) it was nonetheless enthusiastically received on the Lido, earning sustained applause, and even a few whoops, at the industry screening I attended. You’d expect, then, its home audience to be similarly receptive, though word seems pretty quiet so far.

    Via Twitter, Anne Thompson echoes a view I expressed in my own positive review, saying that “if [Sony Picture Classics] play their cards right, Paul Giamatti could get an Oscar nom” for his performance as a dissolute, thrice-married TV producer. (She later adds that the film’s after-party was “lame,” but I’m sure she won’t hold that against him.)

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  • VENICE: Arrivederci, and notes on the winners

    (Updated list of Venice award winners here.)

    If you were on the Lido to the bitter end of the festival — and closing with “The Tempest” made it a very bitter end indeed — last night’s Golden Lion win for Sofia Coppola’s “Somewhere” didn’t come as the shock it did to everyone else. In the closing days of the festival, a Chinese-whispers style rumor started circulating that Quentin Tarantino and many of his fellow jurors were besotted with the film from the get-go; at Friday night’s party for Tom Tykwer’s “Drei,” word that Coppola had been asked to stay in town for the awards ceremony spread fast. (I tweeted as much — don’t say I left you out of the loop.)

    But even if some of us got wind of it earlier than others, the news was still surprising when it landed. On the one hand, Venice has long been more receptive to more mainstream arthouse names than Cannes or Berlin — recent winners of the top prize include Darren Aronofsky, Ang Lee (twice) and Mike Leigh. On the other, “Somewhere,” which screened on the festival’s third day, didn’t seem to have much staying power in the critical mindset: I appreciated the film more than most, but the general consensus was that it was a likeable marking-time effort that seemed more likely to be recognized for Stephen Dorff’s breakout performance than the filmmaking itself.

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  • VENICE: Sofia Coppola’s ‘Somewhere’ wins Golden Lion

    Festival jury president Quentin Tarantino announced that Sofia Coppola’s “Somewhere” was the unanimous choice for Venice’s top honor.

    The full list of festival winners (with commentary to follow later):

    Golden Lion (Best Film): “Somewhere” (review)
    Silver Lion (Best Director): Alex de la Iglesia, “A Sad Trumpet Ballad” (review)
    Special Jury Prize: “Essential Killing” (review)
    Coppa Volpi (Best Actor): Vincent Gallo, “Essential Killing” (review)
    Coppa Volpi (Best Actress): Ariane Labed, “Attenberg” (review)
    Osella (Best Screenplay): “A Sad Trumpet Ballad” (review)

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  • REVIEW: “The Tempest” (*)

    Venice Film Festival

    If any one title in the Shakespeare library has been sufficiently fiddled about with on screen, it’s “The Tempest,” among the most tonally malleable of his comedies, and a fantasy that gifts filmmakers with obvious opportunities for spectacle.

    “Forbidden Planet,” a terrific 1956 sci-fi riff on the play, perhaps took this adaptability furthest, but it only set the ball rolling for assorted free interpretations: Derek Jarman gave it a homoerotic spin in 1979, Paul Mazursky rewrote it as a neurotic modern-day sex comedy in 1982 and Peter Greenaway played all manner of metatextual games in 1991’s “Prospero’s Books.” At this point, about the most radical thing a filmmaker could do with “The Tempest” on screen is play it straight.

    That is evidently not a view shared by one Julie Taymor, whose murky, lunk-headed and signally boring new film tricks out Shakespeare’s text with gaudy CGI saturation, a wardrobe from “Zoolander”‘s Derelicte collection and a key sex change in the lead, as sorcerer and doting father Prospero here morphs into Helen Mirren’s Prospera, a highbrow voodoo priestess of sorts with a permanent Patty Hewes-style scowl.

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  • VENICE: Jury duty – award predictions and preferences

    The Venice Competition lineup officially wrapped today with one of its lightest and most mainstream selections, “Barney’s Version” (reviewed this morning).

    With only the out-of-competition closing film “The Tempest” left to screen before I head back to London tomorrow evening, allow me a moment to sift through the runners and riders for the festival prizes – at the same time as Quentin Tarantino and his (hopefully) merry band of jurors much be contemplating the same thing.

    They have good reason to be merry: as a friend and I agreed this morning, festival director Marco Mueller has assembled a truly outstanding Competition field this year – thoughtfully balanced in terms of highbrow and middlebrow, genre and esoterica, veteran auteurs and younger ascending talents.

    (More thoughts, plus Golden Lion predictions and wishes, after the cut.)

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  • SHORT TAKE: “Barney’s Version” (***)

    Venice Film Festival

    Too few film reviews open with the wisdom of Feargal Sharkey, so it brings me great pleasure to begin this one by saying that a good heart these days is, indeed, hard to find. That’s the chief conclusion to be taken from not just the narrative but the execution of “Barney’s Version,” a measured, thoughtful and agreeably down-the-middle adult romance that makes up in mature sincerity for what it lacks in style.

    I am, I admit, unfamiliar with the popular 1997 novel by Mordecai Richler from which Canadian TV director Richard J. Lewis’s film is adapted; it is, by all accounts, a dense, inventive and stingingly satirical work that has been substantially pared back and ironed out for the screen. This is not surprising: even without knowledge of the material, it’s easy to see where corners have been either cut or sanded smooth in the adaptation of a decades-spanning life study.

    Charting the fortunes and (mostly) misfortunes of Paul Giamatti’s eponymous anti-hero, principally his three failed marriages, Lewis and novice screenwriter Michael Konyves have fashioned a busy, baggy flashback structure that races through some key plot points as it leaves others dangling, and never makes good on its literary opening gambit to tell the story as Barney’s autobiography.

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  • VENICE: ‘Black Venus,’ ’13 Assassins,’ ‘Attenberg,’ ‘A Sad Trumpet Ballad’

    On my way to Tom Tykwer’s latest, so no time for an intro. Further rounding up highlights (and lowlights) of the Venice competition lineup:

    Expectations were appreciably high, and the press screening queue consequently doubled back on itself, for Abdellatif Kechiche’s historical drama “Black Venus” (**1/2) – after all, Kechiche had a hit on the Lido three years ago with the excellent “The Secret of the Grain,” and for those who know it, the story he’s working with here seemed overdue for screen treatment. By the time the credits rolled on this hard, dense, 165-minute slap of a movie, however, applause was more scattered than one might have expected for a display of such voluminous craft and ambition; the silence, one suspects, was that of an audience assessing which lines had and hadn’t been crossed.

    For my part, I remain stuck in a halfway house between immense appreciation that Kechiche has brought the extraordinary story of Saartjie Baartman, the black South African maid whose unusual physique (and genitalia) briefly made her the toast of the European vaudeville circuit in the 19th century, to the screen; and regret that he’s chosen to tell it in such a way that the film becomes complicit in the objectification it claims to decry.

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  • Fox and PBS open Scorsese’s ‘Letter to Elia’

    Reviewing “A Letter to Elia,” Martin Scorsese and Kent Jones’s loving documentary tribute to Elia Kazan, out of Venice on Sunday, I wrote that the 60-minute film was “clearly designed for a PBS-style TV airing.”

    Lo and behold, it was announced yesterday that the film, having been acquired by 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, will premiere on PBS on October 4 — after having played the Venice-Telluride-Toronto-New York festival track.

    Furthermore, for those of us without the luxury of American television, the documentary will also feature in Fox’s 15-film DVD box set of Kazan’s work, due to hit shelves on November 9. I don’t know about you, but my Christmas list is being updated as we speak.

    Press release extract after the cut.

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  • SHORT TAKE: “The Town” (***)

    Venice Film Festival

    Many actors-turned-directors use their outings behind the camera to express something of themselves that they feel hasn’t been enabled by the filmmakers they’ve worked with thus far: personal passions or preoccupations, social or political responsibilities, alternative thespian workout plans or simply a craven desire for awards they haven’t been able to win on their day job.

    Ben Affleck, however, is not drawn by any of these urges. Ben Affleck just wants to make movies. And with his sophomore feature “The Town” – a crisp, grown-up, tangily written thriller one might call “conventional” if studio entertainments this efficient weren’t so hard to come by these days – he further proves that he can make very good ones indeed.

    Affleck’s directorial debut “Gone Baby Gone,” a solid Dennis Lehane adaptation with a fluffed denouement, arguably received a mite more praise than it warranted due to general surprise at the sheer professionalism on display. “The Town” is a more followed-through genre effort with fewer artsy flourishes, but is perhaps destined to be underrated instead by critics expecting Affleck to develop more of an auteur’s ambition.

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  • VENICE: ‘Post Mortem,’ ‘Essential Killing,’ ‘Promises Written in Water’

    One week into the Venice Film Festival, and I don’t mind admitting that I’m feeling a little worse for wear. (Okay, and more than a little hung over on free Prosecco.) Yesterday didn’t exactly soothe matters, serving up as it did two of the festival’s most mortifying Competition films – one of which, Alex de la Iglesia’s abominable psycho-clown melodrama “A Sad Trumpet Ballad,” I haven’t the fortitude to write about right now – and yet more wi-fi trouble in the press room, which explains yesterday’s meagre showing on my end.

    With two-thirds of the festival’s Competition lineup now unwrapped – including the surprise film, which rather anti-climactically turned out to be Wang Bing’s reportedly very nutritious “The Ditch” – some clear critical favorites have emerged.

    It is, of course, anyone’s guess what jury president Quentin Tarantino might take a shine to, but it’d be a surprise if Russian entry “Silent Souls” came away from the Lido empty-handed. Meanwhile, lingering high regard for “Black Swan” and “Meek’s Cutoff,” whether they win awards or not, points to something of a recovery for the stars and stripes after the embarrassment that was this year’s Cannes showing.

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  • SHORT TAKE: “I’m Still Here” (**1/2)

    Venice Film Festival

    “This is the moment where the fucking good guy wins,” yells an evidently kite-high Joaquin Phoenix at a hapless member of his entourage, midway through his brother-in-law Casey Affleck’s debatable documentary portrait of the star’s much-publicized career meltdown.

    It’s a little difficult to spot the victory – or, indeed, the good guy – in this and many other such tantrums that pepper “I’m Still Here”: the film can be interpreted in a number of ways, and Phoenix comes off pretty awfully in most of them. Is it all a hoax? More specifically, could Phoenix’s actions – his abrupt 2008 “retirement” from the screen, his intended hip-hop career, his bizarre new American-Apparel-rabbi look – all be an elaborate stunt, and the film somehow not?

    Affleck was predictably unforthcoming in this morning’s press conference: “Elliptical” was his one-word answer when asked how he felt about the allegations of fakery, supported by certain scenes in the film that have obviously been (re)staged. (The closing credits feature a cast list in which not every player is billed as themselves.)

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