In Contention

Tag: festivals

  • Berlinale prizes for ‘Honey,’ Polanski

    Roman PolanskiWell, I warned you I wasn’t keeping up with the Competition films at Berlin. I’d love to give you some first-hand perspective on the winners that have just been named by Werner Herzog and his jury, but the truth is, I haven’t seen a number of them.

    That includes the top prizewinner, Semih Kaplanogu’s “Honey,” a Turkish tale of a six year-old boy who falls into muteness following the disappearance of his beekeeper father. It was kindly regarded at the festival, though I didn’t encounter any critics insisting it was a must-see, either. (I heard more critical buzz around two runner-up winners, Romania’s “If I Want to Whistle, I Whistle” and Russia’s “How I Ended This Summer.”)

    The jury’s one concession to the mainstream was a Best Director award for Roman Polanski, whose thriller “The Ghost Writer” opened in the U.S. yesterday to warm reviews. I suppose some might view this as controversy-mongering — and they’d probably be right — but Polanski’s film was one of the few in Competition that genuinely exceeded expectations.

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  • BERLIN: Competition blues

    Jack Yao and Amber Kuo in Au Revoir, TaipeiLooking over my Berlinale coverage so far, the thing that surprises me is what a benevolent mood I seem to be in for much of it. By focusing principally on the titles that have impressed (or at least engaged) me, I’ve rather given the impression of a festival packed with delights.

    As good a time as I am having in the German capital, however, I’m afraid that’s not exactly the case. All around the festival center can be heard the collected grumblings of critics wondering what on earth is going to win the Golden Bear on Saturday — and not for richness of pickings, either.

    The festival’s Forum and Panorama strands have served up a number of strong entries, including consensus critical hits like “The Illusionist” and “Kawasaki Rose.” And the out-of-competition Sundance repeats have sustained their buzz from last month’s wintry festival: “Winter’s Bone,” in particular, is the title I’ve heard more in conversations with fellow critics than any other, and scarcely anyone has a bad word for “Exit Through the Gift Shop” or “The Kids Are All Right.”

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  • REVIEW: “The Kids Are All Right” (***1/2)

    Annette Bening and Julianne More in The Kids Are All RightBerlin International Film Festival

    A spry, sun-bleached and often rather sexy study of what makes a family in modern America, “The Kids Are All Right” breezes by so pleasurably it’s easy to forget what a daring and very necessary film it is. Gift-wrapping its smart sexual politics with kicky dialogue, bright visuals and a pleasingly messy tangle of relationships, Los Angeles-born auteur Lisa Cholodenko’s fourth (and finest) feature is her most mainstream to date, but makes a virtue of those concessions.

    Since its deservedly buzzy Sundance premiere, you’ve probably already heard “The Kids Are All Right” described ad nauseum as a lesbian – or perhaps more coyly, liberal – drama. With the film having been adopted by Focus Features, who recently had success with “Brokeback Mountain” and “Milk,” it seems likely the tag will stick, particularly if award season beckons.

    But such a label, however well-intentioned, does a disservice to Cholodenko’s admirable avoidance of social tract. Rather than hectoring its audience to accept its characters as normal, this film goes one better by doing just that, and not commenting on the matter any further.

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  • SHORT TAKE: “The Illusionist” (****)

    The IllusionistBerlin International Film Festival

    It took six days and an awful lot of films, but the Berlinale has finally turned up a masterpiece. Moreover, it’s a rare case of one of the fest’s most eagerly awaited titles managing to meet, and even subvert, expectations.

    “The Illusionist,” French animator Sylvain Chomet long-gestating follow-up the 2003 Oscar nominee “The Triplets of Belleville,” confirms a truly singular auteur sensibility, while revealing a more disciplined artist and storyteller within. A streamlined character study, less deliriously eccentric in tone and structure than his debut feature, “The Illusionist” nonetheless boasts an emotional heft that handsomely repays its creator’s restraint.

    Those who have been following the project will already know the reason for the newfound calm in Chomet’s quirk. “The Illusionist” is based on a previously unfilmed script by the late comic master Jacques Tati, and the film plays as a fascinating across-the-decades collaboration between two distinct voices (though given their shared preference for amusingly garbled dialogue, perhaps “distinct” isn’t the word) of French comedy: the tangling of Tati’s genial situational humor with Chomet’s more extravagant flights of fancy proves mutually enhancing.

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  • BERLIN: ‘Please Give,’ ‘Red Hill,’ ‘Submarino’

    Ryan Kwanten in Red HillFilm festivals have a curious way of either dulling one’s critical faculties or provoking them to an impolite degree. I almost never walk out of a screening under normal circumstances; at a festival, while compressing five-odd films into one day, it’s almost life-affirming to do so.

    Such was the case yesterday, halfway through “Caterpillar,” a Competition entry from widely admired Japanese veteran Koji Wakamatsu. An apparent Oshima knockoff combining catatonic narrative inertia with visual dinginess, it centers on a mute, limbless Sino-Japanese War vet rebuilding his relationship with his wife: “rebuilding his relationship” being a euphemism for working his way through the paraplegic Kama Sutra.

    After a sufficient number of po-faced sex scenes, interspersed with shots of cherry-blossom to indicate the passing of seasons — the film, it seems, was edited with a blunt axe — Tim turned to me and whimpered, “I can’t take it anymore.” We bailed and headed for “Gentlemen Broncos” instead; and you know now how that worked out.

    The film has its champions, mind. And I’m now convinced it will win something on Saturday just to spite me. After the cut, however, are three films I happily sat through in their entirety.

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  • “Chevalier…”

    Jemaine Clement in Gentlemen BroncosThe film is history across the pond, but having just seen Jared Hess’s “Gentlemen Broncos” in the Generation strand of the Berlinale, I feel obliged to briefly counter the thoroughly undeserved critical and commercial kicking the film received back in fall 2009.

    Because I’m astonished to find Hess’s creatively chaotic stew of literature, movies-within-movies and vintage power balladry the most sweet-natured and most consistently hilarious comedy of last year.

    I was never a “Napoleon Dynamite” disciple. And in light of reviews even harsher than those for the dire “Nacho Libre,” it’s fair to say I wasn’t looking forward to Hess’s latest. Indeed, I wasn’t planning on seeing at all; I only ducked in to seek refuge from the embarrassing Competition entry I’d walked out of next door. (More on that later.)

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  • BERLIN: ‘Winter’s Bone,’ ‘Greenberg,’ ‘Exit Through the Gift Shop’

    Jennifer Lawrence in Winter's BoneYesterday’s viewing roster just about had me double-checking whether I was at the right festival, as I was treated to a pair of Sundance hits, in addition to a brand-new Amerindie feature from a Sundance alumnus. The copious snow still smothering the sidewalks of Berlin only aided the comparison.

    Perhaps it was Valentine’s Day spirit making me more benign – apparently against the current of critical opinion, in the case of Noah Baumbach’s “Greenberg” – but all three films, moreover, afforded me pleasures of varying degrees. (And definitions: “pleasure” is not the most appropriate term for a film as severe as “Winter’s Bone.”)

    “WINTER’S BONE” (***1/2)

    In 2004, NYU film grad Debra Granik spun a student short into a ragged but confident debut feature, “Down to the Bone,” that landed her a Sundance award and kick-started the career of a sensational actress named Vera Farmiga. Perhaps you’ve heard of her.

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  • SANTA BARBARA: Send off with Santa Barbara’s own

    Cover of the Santa Barbara IndependentThe final day of activities at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival was an all-day tribute to local Jeff Bridges, screenings of his past work and a packed Lobero Theatre screening of “Crazy Heart” later in the day, as well as a post-screening Q&A moderated by yours truly.  The theater seats roughly 750 people and 300 were turned away at the door.  Suffice it to say, the town was ready for this one.

    The Q&A was a standard, breezy affair.  Bridges makes it easy, frankly.  It was Valentine’s Day, of course, so I couldn’t resist the sure-fire applause query: “How many Valentine’s Days have you and your wife (who was in the audience) celebrated?”  The answer, of course, is 35, and I think that, in many ways, is the greatest of accomplishments for the prolific actor.

    We talked about how Bridges came to the project, how his father instilled a passion for the business in him at an early age, what working with co-star Maggie Gyllenhaal (whose nomination was heartening to Bridges after he sat back and watched her be ignored through the season) was like, etc.  Most of what you might have read in my interview with him back in November, but the crowd ate it up.

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  • WEEKLY WRAP: Festival coverage, celebrating The Dude and more

    Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski• This week’s installments of the Oscar Guide covered the animated feature, sound mixing, lead actor, live action short and film editing categories.

    • Kris toasted the career of Jeff bridges with his list of the actor’s top 10 performances (off-site).

    • We caught up with “Red Riding: 1974” director Julian Jarrold as well as “A Prophet” helmer Jacques Audiard.

    • Elsewhere, we spotlighted the crafts of “Bright Star” in our weekly Tech Support Interview series.

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  • SANTA BARBARA: Bridges, Firth, Stone and producers

    Colin Firth at the 25th annual Santa Barbara International Film FestivalThings are winding down in Santa Barbara.  Today is the last day of the fest, an all-day celebration of Jeff Bridges’s work.  Screenings of “Thunderbolt & Lightfoot,” “Starman,” “The Contender” and “Crazy Heart” are lined up.  I’ll be moderating a Q&A with the actor following the “Crazy Heart” screening at the Lobero Theatre.

    Yesterday it was the producers panel early in the afternoon, Patrick Goldstein moderating an enlightening discussion with Lawrence Bender, Mark Boal, Jon Landau, Lori McCreary, Ivan Reitman and Jonas Rivera.  It was a good cross-section of perspectives on the work of a film producer, and certain a diverse mixture of budgets, economics and creative philosophy.

    There was a moment when Landau proposed that it was a filmmaker’s responsibility to tackle gravitas and Bender took umbrage with that, positing that the real responsibility is to entertain.  Obviously it depends on the circumstance and no filmmaker should be beholden to either ideology (as Boal, always the diplomat, shrewdly noted).  But it was still funny watching Bender once again defending the frivolity of “Inglourious Basterds” in the face of loftier examinations from Landau, McCreary, etc.

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  • REVIEW: “Shutter Island” (**1/2)

    Shutter Island

    Berlin International Film Festival

    (EDIT: Star rating adjusted upon consideration.)

    To filch an aphorism from Mike Skinner, “Shutter Island” represents of continuation of Martin Scorsese’s decade-long quest to find the hardest way to make an easy living.

    If that sounds like a jab, it’s not. Since the self-amusing personal statements of “Kundun” and “Bringing Out the Dead” perplexed far more than they pleased, Scorsese has weaved over to the middle of the road, flirting with broad Oscar-bait and crowdpleasers (successfully marrying the two in “The Departed”) while playfully maintaining an auteur’s consistency of theme and aesthetic.

    It’s a tricky game to play, and when the elements align, it can work to smashing effect — as in “The Departed,” a nifty pop movie-movie winkingly intended as the prototypical “Scorsese film” that casual cinemagoers attributed to him, but that he’d never actually made.

    When they don’t, however, you get “Shutter Island,” a film awash with beauty and trademark stylistic flourishes, attached to a narrative that he never seems all that into. A near letter-faithful adaptation of Dennis Lehane’s pulpy source novel, itself something of a genre lark for the author, it surprises principally by offering more intrigue as a Scorsese picture than as an entertainment. As an artistic investigation of B-movie construction, it has all the impeccable craft, and a measure of the cinephile intelligence, of “The Departed” or “Cape Fear”; but a lot of the fun is missing.

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  • SANTA BARBARA: Four Vanguards and a Virtuoso

    Christoph Waltz at the 25th annual Santa Barbara International Film Festival“Precious” star Gabourey Sidibe couldn’t be here last weekend for the Virtuosos presentation, which recognized her, Carey Mulligan, Saoirse Ronan, Emily Blunt and Michael Stuhlbarg, so she was in town this evening as part of the Vanguard presentation.  Stanley Tucci, meanwhile, couldn’t be here this week to accept his Vanguard prize, so he was here last week and filmed a video acceptance.

    They roll with the punches here in Santa Barbara.

    The four Vanguard award winners this year, which is the first year that saw more than one recipient, were Tucci, Christoph Waltz, Peter Sarsgaard and Vera Farmiga.  The award recognizes an actor (or actors) who has forged his/her own path, taking artistic risks and making a significant and unique contribution to film.

    It fits the quartet.  These actors has found their way to this point in their careers in baby steps, Waltz’s career actually the most extensive of the four, ironically enough, regardless of his new appeal in the states.

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  • BERLIN: Arrivals and complications

    Shahrukh Khan in My Name is KhanOkay, so that was a long silence. I apologize. But in addition to the usual trials of settling in, my first day at the Berlinale threw up some added obstacles that made for a day that was curiously both hectic and thin on matters worth reporting.

    Frankly, one needs an entire day just to process the festival’s labyrinthine programme, with its convoluted bylaws of which films in which strands can be viewed by which press at what time. In what is surely the only time Nancy Meyers will prompt my conversation at the Berlinale, it’s complicated.

    By the time I had managed to get my proverbial shit together, a night on the tiles in the company of the Telegraph’s Tim Robey was a far more inviting option than finding a free spot on the carpet of the festival’s wi-fi lounge. (A tourist’s hat tip to the rather awesome Stagger Lee cocktail lounge near Nollendorfplatz.) So here we are — a little better organized this morning, if a lot worse for wear.

    I have just come out of the press screening of “Shutter Island” — to which I shall dedicate a full review later today — and have a little under an hour the squeeze in a precis of yesterday’s activity before heading into Thomas Vinterberg’s “Submarino” this afternoon.

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  • ‘Metropolis’ at Berlinale

    Guy is either en route or settling in at the Berlin fest presently, but I came across this live stream of a screening of Fritz Lang’s original cut of “Metropolis,” happening right now.  Go check it out.  One of my top three films of all time.

    Metropolis at Berlinale

  • Berlin bound

    In a couple of hours, I’ll be packing my bags, donning my warmest and most ridiculous-looking puffa jacket and catching a crack-of-dawn flight to the German capital. The occasion, of course: the 60th Berlin International Film Festival.

    I’ve been to Berlin before — and was thoroughly enamored of it — though this will be my first experience of the festival, and I’m not a little intrigued. Alongside Cannes and Venice, the Berlinale essentially completes the holy European festival trinity, but its position in the calendar gives it a rather different profile from its glitzier sisters.

    Where Cannes hogs the lofty auteur names and Venice always nabs a couple of big fall awards hopefuls, Berlin is a refuge for smaller fare from up-and-coming filmmakers, peppered with the occasional sexy Hollywood premiere.

    That’s not to say that the festival doesn’t launch substantial works. Two of this year’s Oscar nominees, “The Messenger” and “The Milk of Sorrow,” began their awards trails with wins at Berlin a year ago, while the 2008 competition turned up the actressy trifecta of “Happy-Go-Lucky,” “I’ve Loved You So Long” and “Julia.” Berlin hits have to ride their buzz for longer than those at Cannes, but there are almost always a couple that quietly stay the course.

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  • SANTA BARBARA: Bigelow honored as Outstanding Director of the Year

    (from left) Andrew Davis, Kathryn Bigelow and Roger Durling at the 25th annual Santa Barbara International Film FestivalAs if another accolade was necessary at this point, Kathryn Bigelow was in town this evening to accept SBIFF’s Outstanding Director of the Year award.  The one-two punch of Bigelow here and James Cameron for the fest’s Modern Master honor made for, again, quite the prescient choices from festival director Roger Durling in the fall.

    The retrospective was emceed by Durling, which was endearing.  Two incredibly shy personalities on the stage at one time.  Lots of “ums” and “uhs,” but they caught their rhythm some time around the “Near Dark” discussion, which is when Durling said Bigelow first caught his attention.  He said he was fascinated by how Bigelow would take genres and deconstruct them, paint with different, darker shades.  Like melding a biker film with film noir in “The Loveless,” or attempting a western through the tools of the horror genre in “Near Dark.”

    Of course, Bigelow’s big achievement this year is no exception to this feature of her work.  It has long been a point of discussion that “The Hurt Locker” isn’t a typical war film, but a combination of suspense, action and, indeed, deep dramatic hues.  And like all of her work, an intense focus on character is at the fore.

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  • SANTA BARBARA: Directors on directing, Virtuosos, ‘Provinces of Night,’ Bigelow

    Jamie Lee Curtis in Blue SteelThe fest feels incredibly easy-going this year.  More than last.  Maybe that’s because there aren’t as many films I’m interested in seeing.  After “The Secret of Kells” last week and Atom Egoyan’s “Chloe” later this week, nothing really strikes my fancy.

    Yesterday before darting back down the 101 for a Super Bowl party in LA, I caught about an hour or so of the directors panel, “Directors on Directing.”  It was an engaging discussion between Kathryn Bigelow, James Cameron, Lee Daniels, Pete Docter, Todd Phillips and Quentin Tarantino, and absolutely packed house.  Jason Reitman couldn’t make it.

    The most interesting bit that I saw was Tarantino discussing the immersive experience of “Avatar,” how when filming “Kill Bill,” he was very interested in the experience of a movie and making the audience feel participatory in some way.  He said he thinks he failed to do that, though some sequences, namely the House of Blue Leaves sequence, were close, but when he saw “Avatar,” he said, “That’s it.  That’s the ride I was thinking about.”

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  • SANTA BARBARA: Cameron honored as Modern Master

    (from left) James Cameron and Arnold Schwarzenegger at the 25th annual Santa Barbara International Film FestivalEarlier today Jeffrey Wells was waxing on about how Santa Barbara ought to change up the order of things, the natural flow of a given tribute.  Well, tonight he got his wish.

    The evening’s Modern Master tribute in honor of “Avatar” director James Cameron — the festival’s highest honor — began on the wrong foot.  Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger was set to present the award to his friend and three-time collaborator, but given the obviously tight schedule of a public official, his bit was going to land during the middle of the two-hour presentation.

    That information was somehow lost in translation to Cameron, who thought he was being told the actual award acceptance would happen at the beginning of the tribute, so rather than strolling over to moderator Leonard Maltin and sitting down for the usual kiss-kiss, he stopped at the podium and began speaking.

    Uh-oh.

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