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Day Six won't go down as a great day of movies, but it was
a great day of fellowship. After a leisurely morning, I was ready for five
movies, including my one and only midnight screening.
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| I got to the Paramount 45 minutes early for the
screening of Todd Solondz's Palindromes and was happy to see that they
were seating already. My friend Vic had saved me a seat, and we started off
with the obligatory Toronto question, "Seen anything good?" Vic seems to take
delight in dwelling on the movies he's seen that he doesn't like, some of
which are ones I enjoy. So that always makes for a fun and lively discussion.
Soon, another friend Girish sat down. Vic and Girish are polar opposites in
almost every way, so I sometimes feel like a mediator, but we had a great
discussion about everything from the long take to neo-realism to Claire Denis
to "the malaise of the rich" (Vic's phrase).
I wish Palindromes had been as entertaining. I should preface my blurb
by saying I know a number of people who liked the Solondz. And if I was more
into (or didn't find morally bankrupt) the approach of condescending irony,
cheap satire, and provocation for the sake of provocation, I might've liked
it, too. Is that a cheap shot on my part? Maybe so.
Solondz has more than a few interesting ideas, but his execution is so
fatuous, so littered with moments designed to flatter a hipster audience. The
basic premise is a 12-year-old named Aviva wants to be a mother and is
willing to engage in sex with almost anyone to achieve her wish. When that
doesn't work out as planned, she runs away and meets a bunch of quirky losers
on her path. One of Solondz's twists is that a different girl or woman plays
Aviva in every episode. Some girls are white, some are black. Some are small,
some are large. Some are played by real teenagers, others are obviously
mature women (Jennifer Jason Leigh shows up, for example). Unfortunately,
Solondz doesn't do anything with this motif. It doesn't really matter if
someone is white or black, beautiful or ugly. This misses a great chance to
comment on how our appearance might affect how we're treated in life.
There are other missed opportunities. The narrative framework, which circles
back on itself like a palindrome, is clever, but I wasn't sure if it was
anything more than that. Furthermore, because the audience is meant to mock
almost all of the people Aviva meets, there's no attempt at greater
understanding, no desire to do anything else but amuse us. Maybe I'm too much
of a moralist, but I would hope that when you bring together different
cultures, the immediate response wouldn't be to focus on what we think is
stupid. I don't mind films that have a misanthropic streak (Lars von Trier
comes to mind), but I have little use for films that don't turn the camera
back on ourselves but instead save our bile for the less fortunate or the
less "enlightened" around us. Which is what Palindromes does. Two stars, out of five. |
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| After Palindromes, I had a great time of eating
and talking with Girish (who hated Palindromes even more than I did).
Then it was on to The Holy Girl, where we were met by mutual friends
Doug Cummings and Rob Davis. They were all more impressed than I was with the
Lucrecia Martel film. Not that I didn't like it, but I only merely enjoyed
it. Most of the movie takes place in an Argentinean hotel or immediately
surrounding it. A convention of doctors is staying there, along with the
hotel's staff and the family that owns the hotel. The film focuses on Amalia,
a teenage girl whose growing sexuality is intertwined with her devotional
Catholicism.
One of the really nice things about The Holy Girl is how Martel
portrays the close relationship between spirituality and sexuality,
especially in teenagers. She also does a fine job of introducing other
characters, like the girl's mother, a best friend, and a doctor who takes a
perverted interest in the girl which in turn arouses a confused interest in
Amalia. The story is well told, though I found it frustrating at times that
characters and narrative threads were only mildly developed. I realize there
isn't time for everything, but a more focused storyline (or a longer film)
would've been more satisfying. Still, the acting is strong across the board,
with Maria Alche as Amalia giving a particularly convincing performance. And
Martel's use of the frame to crop out part of her characters' faces is
striking. Maybe I would've liked this more if it weren't Day Six. When it
finds a Chicago release (which I'm sure it will), I'll give it another
chance. Three 1/2 stars, out of five. |
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| One of my most anticipated films of the fest was Hou
Hsiao-hsien's Cafe Lumiere. I've been a devotee of Hou's work for
years, so this "homage to Ozu" was a must-see. And though it doesn't rise to
the masterpiece status of Flowers of Shanghai or Good Men, Good
Women, it's still an affecting film directed with precision and beauty.
As an acquaintance pointed out, the plot is something that would take most
directors only thirty minutes to film. A young Japanese woman finds she's
pregnant by her Taiwanese boyfriend (whom we never see) and decides to keep
the baby. She's researching the life of a Taiwanese jazz pianist, and she has
a friendship with a young man who owns a second-hand book shop but is much
more interested in the sounds trains make.
The highlights of the film for me were the scenes with the woman's parents,
first at their home in the country and then when they come to visit her in
the city. The father, who says almost nothing, is wonderfully expressive, and
the relationship between him and his wife feels like it's been lived for
decades. Hou, as expected, does some marvelous things with long shots and
long takes. The opening sequence, as the woman hangs laundry, uses the light
coming through her curtains to stunning effect. And his wonderful static
compositions of moving trains make clear the reference to Lumiere in the
title. But probably what I liked most about Cafe Lumiere was Hou's
meditative pacing, the sense of peace that came over me as I watched it. And
the final shot of trains passing each other in the day was just as lovely as
his first. Four stars, out of five. |
Before the screening, I happened to meet Brian Andreotti,
the programmer for the Music Box Theatre in Chicago. So we arranged to have
dinner after the film. I've worked with Brian for a number of years but never
spent a lot of time with him. So sharing a meal was a nice opportunity. Of
course, we discussed what we had seen (Brian liked both My Summer of
Love and Palindromes a lot more than I did), but we also talked
about the pleasures and frustrations of programming an art cinema. Then,
since we both had tickets to the same film, we headed back to the Paramount
(where I'd been for the three previous movies).
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Old Boy |
Park Chan-wook
South Korea
2004 | | |
| If I wanted a contrast to Cafe Lumiere, I got it in Park Chan-wook's
Old Boy. It won the Grand Prix at Cannes this year, and it's not hard
to see what jury president Quentin Tarantino saw in the film. It has style to
spare, and that was enough for me for the first 45 minutes. An apparently
boorish but decent man is mysteriously imprisoned for fifteen years, and then
just as mysteriously released. But his release doesn't mean he's free, as his
tormentor continues the game, taunting the man and threatening to ruin the
lives of people around him. These opening scenes are gripping, as Park uses
spectacular widescreen compositions, a great musical score, and a compelling
voiceover to create a surge of energy and excitement.
But as the film continues, it settles into a rather standard revenge movie
plot, though in this case the tormentor seems all-powerful and all-knowing.
I'm not a big fan of that dynamic, as it limits your narrative possibilities.
To his credit, though, Park does keep the audience guessing as the man tries
to figure out what his captor has against him. Is he just psychotic or do
they have some past together? But when the revelations finally come, they're
neither especially interesting nor insightful. I mean, in a film that has
torture (physical and psychological), unlawful imprisonment, rape, and
murder, do we really need incest thrown into the mix? Even the style grows
tiresome after a while (to this non fan-boy, at least). And the climax is
terribly unsatisfying, charting a middling course between revenge fantasy and
outright nihilism. One or the other would've been preferable in a movie
designed to push boundaries. Instead, adding a bit of both feels somehow
inappropriate. Two 1/2 stars, out of five. |
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| The final movie of Day Six was the one midnight movie
on my schedule. My friend Jason was leaving the next day, so I wanted to see
one last movie with him, despite my growing weariness. Fortunately, he had
gotten a great place in line, so we had good seats in the Ryerson theater.
The film was Kontroll, a Hungarian movie that takes place in the
bowels of a subway system. The main characters are attendants who check
people's tickets and passes, then assess fines if a rider doesn't have one.
Needless to say, these men aren't terribly popular with their fellow
citizens. This leads to some fun moments of comedy, as we witness various
interactions. It also leads to mad-cap chase sequences and rather brutal
moments of violence.
Though Kontroll hints that there's something not quite right in the
tunnels, it never explores that except for a hooded individual who's
taken to pushing people into the oncoming trains. The movie does have
a great look about it, though, as it uses the fluorescent lights to
especially eerie advantage. Furthermore, the low-level camera
placements make the waiting areas and tunnels seem ominous and
creepy. The people around me seemed to be disappointed that there
wasn't more mayhem, especially in the movie's climax, but I kind of
liked the subdued conclusion. There's nothing special about Kontroll,
but it's a nicely-made debut and bodes well for director Nimrod Antal.
Three 1/2 stars, out of five.
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In a weird art-meets-life moment after the screening, I
almost walked out in front of a car as I was saying good night to friends. I
recovered and quickly caught a cab back to the hotel and went to sleep. A
much lighter Day Seven awaits.
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