a complete unknown…

Moira and I went along to the Watershed yesterday to see James Mangold’s ‘A Complete Unknown’ – about Bob Dylan’s rise to become one of the most iconic singer-songwriters in history. The 19-year-old from Minnesota arrives in New York in 1961 with his guitar and is destined to change the course of American music.
I recall my schoolboy days in 1962 when, in order to try to look ‘cool’ and ‘keep up with the music scene’ (I’m pretty sure I was the first person to actually discover The Beatles!), I used to subscribe to ‘Disc’ magazine or what later became ‘Disc Weekly’… and so began my fascination with Mr Dylan and his music. “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan” 1963 album has always been my favourite.
As my good friend Tony suggested (after he’d seen the film last weekend), watching it was an exercise in ‘nostalgia’… in a very positive way. He was absolutely right. Unsurprisingly (on a Tuesday afternoon!), the vast majority of the pretty much capacity audience comprised lots of old couples in their 70s (like us!) – reliving their youth.
I feared that it would all be very disappointing… a number of people acting out and singing parts of some of my heroes. Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I thought the actors were absolutely excellent: Dylan (played brilliantly by Timothée Chalamet); Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro); Pete Seeger (Edward Norton); and girlfriend Sylvie Russo (pictured on the ‘Freewheelin’ album cover photograph)(Elle Fanning).
In the film, Dylan somewhat predictably (and convincingly) comes across as an arrogant, thick-skinned, selfish musical genius. The film includes the time of Dylan’s appearance at the 1965 Newport folk festival – where he rejects the traditional folk traditions in favour of rock and blues-inspired electric guitars… and I can well remember my own disappointment/disbelief of that time. But, hey, music is something of a journey – and Dylan is still going strong despite his 83 years (and thank goodness for that).
I’d strongly recommend that you see this film. It brought back lots of memories.
PS: Of course, I’ve been re-listening to Dylan albums all over again since seeing the film!
PPS: I think my favourite Dylan song is “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”… and its lyrics are featured in Mark Edwards+Lloyd Timberlake’s brilliant book “Hard Rain: Our Headlong Collision With Nature” (published in 2006)… a stunning photographic essay. I absolutely treasure this book. It’s sadly sobering that the book’s major theme – our headlong collision with nature and the pressing issues of climate change, environmental degradation and world poverty – applies even more today than it did then, 19 years ago… and Dylan’s lyrics (which at the time were inspired by the threat of nuclear meltdown) remain scarily prophetic – 62 years later. 

chasing the sun…

I went along to the Watershed last night (together with great friends Sarah and Dave) to watch a film about cycling. Nothing to do with the Tour de France or professional bike racing… this was simply a documentary film about lots of cyclists endeavouring to ride 205 miles coast-to-coast (UK South event: Thames Estuary to Weston-super-Mare) in a day – the longest/summer solstice day.
It’s NOT about speed or being first across the line. It’s about how much of a land it’s possible to see, to feel, by bicycle in a single day (in 1973 an American university professor set out to discover the most energy efficient creature on earth… and he concluded that it was a human being on a bicycle!).
It’s now an annual event – and there are other similar coast-to-coast rides organised on the same day in Italy, Scotland and Ireland (with others being planned elsewhere). Ollie Moore (the person who first came up with the idea) views the event as giving people an opportunity to get away from their screens and daily clutter and creating a “space for thinking” and re-attuning the senses to being surrounded by nature and allowing individuals to see things they wouldn't normally see. Moore was inspired by Richard Long, the English sculptor/land artist – who attended last night’s film (Long would document his walks through nature by opening up his senses, drinking in the sights, sounds and sensations he was feeling on his bike or his walks). It’s also about the environment and ‘saving the planet’.
The film has interviews with people who have discovered (or re-discovered) the health and environmental benefits of cycling in their own cities, towns or villages… and many who are passionate advocates for ensuring greater provision of dedicated cycling space on our heavily-trafficked streets.
The film includes rather wonderful footage of (and conversations with) a couple of cyclists participating in the coast-to-coast ride – a woman who had never previously contemplated cycling any such sort of distance and a man who talked about how cycling had massively helped his mental health.
It’s a passionate, joyful film and I hugely enjoyed it.  

it’s a wonderful life…

Han, Fee, Ursa, Moira and I went along to the Watershed yesterday to see Frank Capra’s iconic 1946 fantasy Christmas film… starring James Stewart (George Bailey) and Donna Reed (Mary Hatch).
It’s a great favourite of mine and I’ve watched it several times (and own the DVD), but never at the cinema… and Hannah, Fee or Ursa hadn’t ever seen it.
You’re probably very familiar with the plot… on Christmas Eve 1945, in Bedford Falls, New York, George Bailey contemplates suicide. The prayers of his family and friends reach Heaven, where guardian angel second class Clarence Odbody is assigned to save George in order to earn his wings…
So starts a series of flashbacks of George’s life… he saves his younger brother from drowning; prevents the local pharmacist from accidentally poisoning a customer's prescription; his ambitions for travel and study are thwarted by his father’s death and so is required to take over the family banking business… he marries; ends up using their honeymoon savings to keep the bank afloat… and, of course, has to fight off a certain Mr Henry Potter who effectively controls the town through devious methods…
I’ll spare you the remaining gory details but, cutting a long story short, Potter steals money from Bailey without Bailey realising; the bank faces scandal and criminal charges… and George Bailey contemplates suicide.
Enter Clarence…
It proved to be a rather wonderful evening: a pretty full-to-capacity cinema; all members of our ‘party’ absolutely loved the film; and, perhaps for only the third time in my experience, the entire audience clapped at the end!
If you’ve never seen it, then I really thinking you need to!
PS: Apparently, at the Glasgow Film Theatre, it’s been the venue’s biggest earner for 12 of the last 15 years!

vortex…

I went along to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Gaspar Noé’s film “Vortex” about the struggles of an elderly couple (born in 1940 and 1944 respectively) in declining health.
Given that Moira and I are ourselves in the ‘elderly couple’ category and facing the uncertainties of old age, I thought long and hard before deciding to book my ticket – but I’m so pleased that I did.
The film's old couple are former intellectuals: he’s an author/film-maker and she's a retired psychiatrist. They live a somewhat bohemian, chaotic life in their small Parisian house crammed full of books and clutter. He is lucid but restricted by a heart condition (he’d had a stroke) and spends a lot of time coughing in the film(!); she also had a stroke some years ago and is now suffering from rapidly worsening dementia. They attempt to deal with matters, alongside their adult son, who is himself is dealing with significant personal problems. The entire film is shot in split-screen – which seems to emphasise their dual stories. The actors (Dario Argento and Françoise Lebrun) are stunningly good – it feels as if you’re watching a documentary in real time.
It makes for tough viewing…
It’s a reminder of how easy it is to retreat into our own individual worlds and to put off painful, necessary decisions… of the importance of acknowledging the ageing process and the changes it makes to even the best relationships… of the realisation that even basic day-to-day tasks can become difficult or even forgotten (medication, turning off the hob/oven/shower, dressing/undressing)… of how vulnerable people become (being no longer able to shop for themselves or even able to leave a partner alone at home)…
It’s a film about the chaotic life and all the messy disarray that old age can become for so many of us… things being left undone, decisions being put off.
It’s an incredibly powerful film – stark, but with moments of tenderness.
Before you know it, it’ll happen to you…
At the start of the film, the couple enjoy a modest meal on their rickety terrace – a simple, happy moment which turns out to be one of her last moments of lucidity.
Towards the end of the film, there’s a slideshow of photographs from the wife’s life – her childhood, her beauty as she becomes a woman, her love of life, her love of her husband and son – reminders of a life lived to the full and celebrated. I found it a very telling and poignant reflection (which made me smile).
And at the very end of the film, there’s a slideshow of photographs showing the couple’s house being cleared – emptied of books and clutter – and finally left bare. A stark, poignant and fitting end.
I think I watched the film with perhaps eight other people. I was, by far, the oldest in the audience – the rest were either twenty-somethings or maybe forty-somethings. For me, it was the reality of my old age but, for them, it was about the old age of their grandparents or parents.
A truly brilliant film.
Footnote: Throughout the film, there’s an element of denial and I suspect that’s the case for many of us approaching (or, like us, in!) old age. The couple in the film vowed that they never wanted to leave their home (largely thanks to Moira, we downsized some nine months ago – and, in retrospect, what a brilliant decision that was!)(and our three daughters wholeheartedly agree!). For couples fortunate enough to survive into old age together, there are the inevitable questions of: Who will die first? Who will take on the burden of care? But also, I suspect, there’s a need to re-assess things on a very regular basis and to make the necessary adjustments accordingly (some easier than others). Patience, sense of humour and love seem to be the key. x 

ali and ava…

I went to the Watershed (again!) this afternoon to see director Clio Barnard’s film “Ali and Ava” – starring the rather brilliant actors Claire Rushbrooke and Adeel Akhtar in the title roles. It’s a modern love story set in Bradford over the course of a month.
 
Ava is a single grandmother (five times over) whose life is her family. She lives in a rough part of the city, but oozes endless patience and tenderness at home and in her teaching assistant job in a primary school – despite the lingering damage caused by a violent, alcoholic ex-husband (who died the previous year). In a much nicer part of Bradford, Ali shares a home with his wife, but is a lonely figure as their marriage has effectively ended; they carry on for the sake of Ali’s tight-knit British-Pakistani family (who live next door), but occupy separate bedrooms.
 
It’s a tough, and yet hugely joyful, drama of love conquering the divisions of race and prejudice; middle age disillusionment; the challenges of parenthood and grandparenthood; and the tensions of class. The film creates a wonderful, effortless chemistry through the use of music, brilliant acting (and story-telling) and sheer charm.
Utterly captivating. 

marianne and leonard: words of love…

I went along to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Nick Broomfield’s “Marianne+Leonard: Words of Love”. It tells the beautiful, yet sad, love story between musician Leonard Cohen and Marianne Ihlen. They first met on the Greek island of Hydra in the early 1960s and became inseparable.
The film takes the form of a documentary, starting with the young struggling Cohen on the island of Hydra, amongst a community of foreign artists, writers and musicians, with dreams of becoming an author. Here, he meets Ihlen (13 years older than him) – alone with her young son, after a failed marriage – who ultimately played a huge role in transforming Cohen from a struggling novelist and poet into the influential singer and songwriter he became (with a little additional help from Judy Collins).
Cohen – in his younger days, at least – was a selfish, self-centred, self-obsessed (almost narcissistic?) man who clearly felt he was something of God’s gift to women (and huge numbers of women seemed to agree!)… but also a complex man who struggled with depression and drugs.
The film contains footage of him talking about his time with Marianne… revealing how, at first, he spent six months of the year in Hydra with Ihlen, and the other six months in Montreal. Then it was four months a year, then two months, then two weeks as his career took off. Marianne Ihlen (unlike “Suzanne”, incidentally) emerges as someone of enormous gentleness and dignity, even coming to one of the huge concerts that Cohen did in his old age when he was enjoying a huge second wave of popularity.

The album “Songs of Leonard Cohen” (1967) was/is one of my all-time favourites (but, obviously, Joni Mitchell is the singer/songwriter I worship!) – featuring the iconic tracks ‘So Long, Marianne’ and ‘Suzanne’… at the time (and since!), some people couldn’t understand why I absolutely loved songs that were so bleak. Yes, I loved Cohen’s poetry, his voice… and his bleakness.

The relationship between Marianne and Leonard lasted some 8 years (off and on) and their friendship until their deaths (she died in July 2016 and he died just four months later). When he was advised of her impending death, Cohen sent her this poignant message:
“And you know that I’ve always loved you for your beauty and your wisdom, but I don’t need to say anything more about that because you know all about that. But now, I just want to wish you a very good journey. Goodbye old friend. Endless love, see you down the road”.

Clearly, for me, the music is a nostalgic reminder of my student days in Oxford from 1967 onwards… and of songs that I keep returning to, even more than 50 years later.

This isn’t a great film, but it does provide a vivid snapshot of the early 1960s and of a complicated, tender love story.

let the sunshine in…

This afternoon I went to the Watershed to see Claire Denis’s “Let The Sunshine In”. It’s just possible that the main reason I wanted to see the film might have been that it starred Juliette Binoche (I think she’s got a bit of a soft stop for me too!).
Binoche is Isabelle, a divorced artist in Paris, now single, living alone and frustrated with her life and her (several) somewhat shabby liaisons… and perhaps asking herself: “Is that it? Is that really all that life has got to offer?”. It’s a film about growing older, about the need for companionship, about the fear of loneliness… and it almost goes without saying that Binoche pulls off her role superbly.
Despite lots of tears (from Binoche), it’s actually rather a funny film – beautifully understated, tongue-in-cheek… and the piece at the very end involving Gerard Depardieu, as a fortune teller with suspect motives, did make me smile.
I came away not quite knowing whether I really enjoyed the film or not… I think I did.

you were never really here…

Yesterday afternoon I went to the Watershed to see Lynne Ramsay’s “You Were Never Really Here” (Ramsay was the director of the acclaimed “We Need Talk About Kevin”).
Oh. My. Goodness (think: blood, guns and ball-peen hammers!).
Joaquin Phoenix (Joe) is a hired gun with a reputation for brutality – he’s ex-military and specialises in retrieving lost children. His task is to track down the teenage daughter (Nina, played by Ekaterina Samsonov) of a politician; she’s has been abducted, drugged and sold off into sexual slavery.
Joe himself is a shattered, fragile man. A combat-shocked veteran, he’s haunted by his past – his abusive, violent father… and the film is peppered with flashbacks and horrors from his past. Suicide never feels far away (plastic bag over head; dagger blade in mouth; looking at jumping from bridges; drowning – you get the picture!). But he also has obligations: caring for his aged mother and an apparent moral crusade to rescue Nina from her nightmare existence.
The soundtrack by Jonny Greenwood is excellent – and absolutely right for the film.

Even though the film only lasts for 90 minutes, it’s still pretty overwhelming. At times, it’s dream-like, at times it's surreal and disorientating… and exhausting.
Phoenix’s performance is spell-binding (you wouldn’t want to confront him in ANY way!).
On the face of it (ie. with all the blood and bodies), this really isn’t my kind of film… and yet, I was completely captivated by it.
I think you should see it – you might be pleasantly surprised (ok, well perhaps ‘pleasant’ might be the wrong word!).
PS: The film has very little dialogue, but (and you’re going to think these are merely the ramblings of a slightly-deaf, aged codger!) I actually found that the little there was was virtually incoherent. I definitely needed sub-titles!

mountain…

I went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Jennifer Peedom’s 74 minute “Mountain” documentary film. I sat next to my lovely friend Sarah (and, if you think I go to the Watershed ‘quite a lot’ then, believe me, I’m just on the nursery slopes compared to Sarah’s attendance record!).
I LOVE mountains…
But mountains SCARE me.
Mountaineering books FASCINATE me…
But I’m PETRIFIED of heights.
The above just about sums up my attitude towards altitudes (anything taller than a double-decker bus is probably too much of a personal challenge).

But, hey, I just knew from the trailer that this film would include stunning photography (combining archive footage with new footage shot in 21 countries by legendary mountaineer/cinematographer Renan Ozturk), wonderful music (including an orchestral score drawing on Chopin, Grieg, Vivaldi and Beethoven) and Robert Macfarlane’s evocative text narrated by Willem Dafoe (Macfarlane is a long-time hero of mine!).

Well, I certainly found the whole experience quite, quite mesmerising.
Breathtaking images. Footage of brave/foolhardy/ridiculous(?) mountaineers and skiers (or ‘ski athletes’ as I think the credits described them)(‘between majesty and madness’) undertaking the most outrageous challenges; stunning, almost ‘abstract art’ distance shots of dozens of skiers threading their way down snow-covered mountains; cyclists on skylines; sky-jumpers (or whatever they’re called) launching themselves into the unknown; the wonders of the natural world – including erupting volcanoes.
Whilst much of the film showed beautiful scenery and fearless climbers/skiers/parachutists/cyclists, it also touched on the dangers and the tragedies… and also the commercialisation that mountaineering has become – with footage showing literally hundreds of tourist mountaineers trudging their way towards the foothills of Everest (“this isn’t climbing, it’s queuing”).
I know that, with Blue Planet television documentaries and the like, we’re all completely used to seeing stunning visual images of the natural world… but I was VERY impressed by Peedom’s film. Definitely worth watching (even if you’re scared of heights!).
PS: I was amused by a couple of handwritten postcards pinned to the Watershed ‘film review noticeboard’… one said “Mountains only get that big because they have no natural predators” and “Not as good as Jurassic Park” (I think the author pins this to the noticeboard for every film)!

paddington 2...

Mrs Broadway and I went along to the jolly Watershed this afternoon to see Paul King’s “Paddington 2”. We’d seen the first Paddington film with a couple of grandchildren, but today it was just us (plus a few other parents and grandparents and their children!).
And, I have to say, I really enjoyed it… maybe it was something rather traditional about us going to the cinema on the run-up to Christmas?
I thought it was much better than the first Paddington film… the original characters were all still there (Hugh Bonneville and Sally Hawkins as Mr and Mrs Brown, plus Julie Walters, Jim Broadbent and Peter Capaldi… amongst others), but alongside a wonderfully over-the-top Hugh Grant, who plays a villain, ‘showboating actor’.
It’s very good fun, heart-warming… and contains lots of marmalade!
PS: the film also includes a sequence on a steam train from Paddington to Bristol - across stunning countryside, lakes and viaducts. After seeing the film, there are going to be an awful of people booking train tickets for this route... who are going to be very, very disappointed (Didcot and Swindon are just two of the actual highlights!). 

the florida project…

Went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Sean Baker’s “The Florida Project”… about life ‘in America’s underbelly’ (as the Watershed’s blurb puts it). It tells the story of a spirited six year-old, her friends and single mother who ‘live’ in a depressing, garishly-painted, lilac motel outside Disney World in Orlando (one of many long-stay welfare places for transients and mortgage defaulters). The mother – impressively played by Bria Vinaite (a heavily tattooed first-time actor who Baker apparently found through Instagram, with a business selling weed-themed merchandise!) – spends most of the film swearing incessantly and desperately trying to come up with her weekly rent through a mixture of hawking Gucci knockoff perfumes to tourists and selling her body. Her life, it seems, is all about delusion and fear. Her six year-old daughter, Moonee – astonishingly played by Brooklynn Prince – is a feral child (alongside her fellow friends), able to do whatever she likes and go wherever she wants… and she too swears like a trooper throughout the film. Prince is unforced, humourous and entirely natural… and, for her, living next to a theme park, probably feels a little like living in paradise.
It’s wonderful. It’s funny. It’s powerfully impressive. It’s beautifully photographed… but it’s also very depressing and a sad reflection of the lives of some of those who find themselves on the very margins of society.
That’s not to say that everyone in such situations lives their lives in such a manner.

I knew I’d find the film depressing at times. I knew I’d spend much of the film wanting the ‘grown-ups’ to have some regard as to how and where their offspring were spending their days (it was the summer vacation). I knew I’d be amused at the antics of the children but, at the same time, horrified by their lack of respect and by their abusive, rude behaviour.

Both mother and daughter use the F-word incessantly. You just know right from the start that the family isn’t going to win the lottery and live happily ever after… and yet there is real affection between these two characters – they really do love each other.
You get a very strong feeling that the film is all about seeing things from a child’s point of view and, apparently, Baker insisted that the camera is at child’s eye level when children are being filmed… and this is very effective.
The film is fiction and yet you just know that such situations are being played out in countries throughout the world… and, tragically, you just KNOW that the daughter will inherit the mistakes and attitudes of the mother… and that her future is almost pre-destined. In such circumstances, sadly, life is often self-perpetuating.
A brilliant, very impressive, warm, compassionate - albeit somewhat depressing - film.

the death of stalin…

Moira and I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Armando Iannucci’s “The Death of Stalin” - based on Fabien Nury’s graphic novel. The film paints a black-humour picture of Stalin’s sudden death in 1953 (in somewhat mysterious circumstances), following a cerebral haemorrhage, and the subsequent plotting and jostling for power by politicians from the Central Committee (who had previously cowered under Stalin’s dictatorial rule).
The film has a very impressive cast, including Steve Buscemi, Jeffrey Tambor, Michael Palin, Adrian McLoughlin, Simon Russell Beale, Andrea Riseborough and Jason Isaacs (with a hilarious mix of Cockney, Brooklyn and Liverpudlian accents).
It’s both funny and tragic…

One can just imagine all the behind-the-scenes battles that must have taken place as various individuals sought political power - without, of course, giving Stalin any excuse for ‘eliminating’ them - but this, for me, only emphasised the similarities with the world leaders and governments of the present day: Putin ruling Russia in way that more or less ensures that any potential challenges to his leadership are avoided outright; Trump frequently being described as someone who is unfit to be president of the USA; and here in the UK, the 2016 EU Referendum result continuing to have huge repercussions – not the least of which is the ongoing, bitter power-struggle within the Conservative Party (and to some extent within the Labour Party).

After seeing the film’s trailer, I’d rather anticipated a bit of a knockabout, almost slapstick, saga that would have me rolling in the aisle. Yes, it WAS funny… but my overriding feeling was about just how many similar political power struggles are still being fought out on the world stage today. Somewhat frightening!
Iannucci’s film is a brilliant, albeit rather scary, satire on political ideology and thirst for power… and very well worth seeing.

loving vincent...

Moira and I went to the Watershed this afternoon (my second visit in three days!) to see the much-acclaimed “Loving Vincent” film directed by Dorota Kobiela and Hugh Welchman.
The Watershed’s blurb describes it thus: “The world’s first fully painted feature film brings together the paintings of Vincent van Gogh to tell his extraordinary life story – and every one of the 65,000 frames of the film is an oil painting, hand-painted by a small army of 125 professionals”. All these oil paintings are created in the style of van Gogh to provide a beautiful, animated end product – a truly magical, astonishing achievement… which apparently took seven years to come to fruition.
I’d previously seen some advance publicity and felt sure that the film would certainly be worth SEEING… but I didn’t know much more than that. Well, it tells the (imagined) story of van Gogh’s final days and his controversial death (a bullet wound to the stomach: was it an accident or a suicide?).

I’d actually prepared myself to be disappointed by the film (after all my prior expectations), but am very happy to say that I thought it was very impressive and very beautifully put together. I think my only reservation is that I feel that the film is in a danger of making the artist something of a celebrity cliché (or perhaps we’d already done this ourselves by our admiration and adulation?). In just a little over 10 years, van Gogh produced more than 800 paintings – that’s a pretty incredible achievement(!) – and it’s left me wanting to understand more about the artist’s life (and his work).

But back to the film… some of the images/frames worked more convincingly than others but, overall, I thought it was a really impressive film… and an astonishing achievement.

Very, very well worth seeing – you’ll be amazed!
PS: I’d chatted to Iris about the film a few days ago and said that I thought it was quite remarkable that van Gogh, who had died so young (he was 37 years old), had become one of the most famous artists of all time and yet he’d never sold a single painting. She immediately corrected me and said: “actually, Grandad, he sold two” (according to the film credits at the end, it seems that he actually sold ONE in his lifetime, but I love that Iris had a view about him!). x

tawai: a voice from the forest…

I went to the Watershed this afternoon (I was going to undertake a long walk to Ashton Court/Leigh Woods, but the weather forecast put me off). So, did I go to see Blade Runner 2049? Nope (especially after Jonnie Treloar’s recent negative review!)… but, hey, I haven’t even seen the original.

No, instead, I decided to check out Bruce Parry+Mark Ellam’s “Tawai: A Voice From The Forest” (you may well know Parry from his various “Tribe” documentaries on the BBC – although I don’t think I’ve ever watched any – in which he lived with indigenous peoples in an effort to understand their way of life). ‘Tawai’ is the word that the nomadic hunter-gatherers of Borneo use to describe their inner feeling of connection to nature.

Essentially, this is a film which looks at a deeper understanding of indigenous peoples and how their way of life can benefit those in the industrialised world. It’s a thought-provoking, poetic documentary (with some beautiful photography) – compiled from the forests of Borneo, the Saddhu of India on the Ganges, the Amazon jungle and the Isle of Skye – which explores what might have changed within the human psyche since we stopped roaming and began to settle. What can we learn from how nomadic tribes around the world live and how might this help us create more balanced ways of relating to each other and the natural world?

It’s a rather striking, sincere film – perhaps a little too earnest for my taste? Clearly, Parry has a great love and appreciation for his subject (plus lots of experience of living with nomadic tribes), but I was disappointed that most of the conversations (both with individuals from the various tribes and the ‘experts’) were all rather one-way, with Parry apparently unable to contribute to, expand on or question the things that were being said. Now, some of this might well be due to the difficulties of translation (but other documentary-makers have coped without undue difficulties) or perhaps it was Parry’s lack of intellect (I might be being rather unfair here?) or speed of thought? Either way, for me, the film’s message lacked a degree of clarity and emphasis.
It’s a fascinating film with a significant message: Tawai providing (in the words of the Watershed programme) “a powerful voice to indigenous peoples that demands to be heard before it is completely lost”… but didn’t quite hit the mark for me.

on body and soul…

I had one of those special, surprising, wonderful afternoons in the cinema today.
First thing this morning, I’d decided I fancied going to see a film (it had been perhaps a month since my last film?). All well and good, but the ONLY film at the Watershed this afternoon (and, as you know, I’m pretty sniffy about going to other local cinemas!) was Ildiko Enyedi’s film “On Body and Soul”.
Although the film won the top Golden Bear Award in Berlin, I was very nearly put off when I read that the action takes place in a Hungarian slaughterhouse and that audiences were warned that “there are some very graphic scenes of the various stages of animal slaughter”)… AND YET, it sounded intriguing:
Maria (wonderfully played by Alexandra Borbely) is the new quality controller at the abattoir and has mild autism, whilst finance manager Endre (again, brilliantly played by Geza Morcsanyi… and, amazingly, making his screen debut) is suffering with his own personal issues and a dead arm. Work is grim, but (thanks to a somewhat strange police investigation into a theft at the abattoir) Maria and Endre discover that they have been dreaming the same idyllic reoccurring dream (where they wander through snowy forests as deer!).
This might all sound rather weird, but it actually develops into a REALLY beautiful, romantic film.
It’s absolutely exquisite and I think, if you can stand the animal slaughter scenes, then you absolutely MUST see it.
It’s definitely one of my very favourite films of the year thus far.

final portrait…

I went along to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Stanley Tucci’s film “Final Portrait”. It’s based on American art critic James Lord’s memoir of how Alberto Giacometti (1901-1966) invited him to sit for him in Paris in 1964. Armie Hammer plays the part of young James Lord and Geoffrey Rush is simply superb as Giacometti (perhaps the film should have carried a warning along the lines of “several hundred cigarettes were consumed in the making of this film”!).
It recounts the story of how what had originally been ”sitting for a portrait for a few hours” ended up extending into days and then weeks (with Lord, flattered by the attention, being forced to cancel and rearrange a series of flights back home) as Giacometti is distracted by ruminations on art, death, money (not to mention his lover)… regularly being frustrated and dissatisfied by what he was producing (and frequently starting all over again).
It’s a comedy drama – sometimes quite touching – about an offbeat friendship amid the utter chaos of the artistic, creative process. I particularly loved the stark visual contrast between with the monochrome nature of the studio (which reminded me of Barbara Hepworth’s studio in St Ives) and the colour of Parisian life.
It won’t be to everyone’s taste, but I REALLY enjoyed the film… it’s worth seeing for Geoffrey Rush’s mesmerising performance alone.

a man called ove…

I went to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Hannes Holm’s “A Man Called Ove” – based on Fredrick Backman’s novel about a grumpy old Swedish man named Ove (played in the film by Rolf Lassgard/Filip Berg as older/younger versions). The character is a widower (his lovely wife Sonja, played by Ida Engvoll, was the light of his life) and he’s recently been made redundant, aged 59, by the company he’s worked for for 43 years.
He has given up on life (literally).
He lives in a small estate upon which he has endeavoured to impose strict rules (introduced when he was chairperson of the local residents’ group)… he records incidents in his notebook about bad parking or about bikes being left unattended; he lists items people have borrowed from him (and demands their return); he criticises other people’s driving abilities… the list goes on, and on.
Actually, I could easily have played Ove in his grumpy mode without even having to act (and for half the money) (I think even look a bit like him?)! But, in fact, the Ove character really reminded me of my father (even more than me – which is saying something!) – organised, practical, community-helper… and, at times, something of a pig-headed, busy-body!
But, as well as the grumpy bits (indeed, often arising out Ove’s very grumpiness), there were some lovely, funny incidents – like him stopping talking to his best friend for ten years because he dared to buy a Volvo instead of a Saab!
Ove’s sad, lonely regime is shaken by the arrival of a pregnant Parvanah (an Iranian immigrant, excellently played by Bahar Pars) and her family, who move in next door… and a beautiful friendship develops.
I haven’t yet read the novel (but I definitely will, in due course).
Strangely, although I really enjoyed the film, I came away feeling just a little disappointed. Perhaps my expectations (after seeing the trailer) had been unreasonably high? I THOUGHT I would absolutely LOVE the film… but, in the event, it fell just a little short of my hopes and expectations.
Nevertheless (as the Watershed’s programme blurb puts it), “what emerges is a heartwarming, funny, and deeply moving tale of unreliable first impressions and a gentle reminder that life is sweeter when it’s shared”.

slack bay (ma loute)…

Yes, I know, choosing to go to the cinema on one of the hottest days of the year isn’t everyone’s idea of fun… but that’s what I did this afternoon! I wanted a break from all the sad frustrations and horror of the real world and felt that Bruno Dumont’s film (with a wealth of amazing French stars including Juliette Binoche - say, no more! - Fabrice Luchini and Valerie Bruni Tedeschi) now showing at the Watershed would be just the thing.
I was aware of the film’s background/story and was perfectly content to enjoy the bizarre, over-the-top, ridiculous romp that this film would undoubtedly be…
I wasn’t even put off by the postcard reviews on the entrance staircase that the Watershed encourages from its audience. These are just four of them: “Strange… very odd, macabre and funny”; “I hated it”; “One of the worst films I’ve ever seen” and “Funny, bizarre and clever”!  
I’ll try to outline the plot… albeit very briefly! Postcard-perfect seaside village in northern France in 1910… there’s a working class family (the Bruforts) – a lowly clan of fishermen (who also double as ferrymen to either row or CARRY people across the low waters that surround the dunes; there are the upper-class Van Peteghems, vacating for the summer; and there are two detectives investigating unsolved and mysterious disappearances. These detectives are played (literally) in the guise of Laurel and Hardy characters – one huge and one very slight individual, dressed in black suits and bowler hats.

I’m really not a great lover of slap-stick humour, but I REALLY enjoyed this film (and so, it seemed, did the rest of the audience)… wonderful timing, ludicrous incidents, complete and utter over-acting by all the adult members of the Van Peteghem family (I thought Fabrice Luchini was superb) and an absolutely ridiculous, exaggerated plot – which included good old-fashioned cannibalism plus a measure of gender-bending identity crises!! Don’t ask!

If I had one minor criticism, it would be its length (122 minutes)… I think it could have been 20 minutes shorter and still just as funny/crisp.
The film is theatrically extravagant and, at times, almost Pythonesque… and I know it won’t be everyone’s ‘cup of tea’, but I loved it (and laughed out loud on several occasions – sorry!).

my life as a courgette…

Taking a somewhat pessimistic view of the outcome of today’s general election (but, hey, maybe I’ll be proved wrong?!), I decided to cheer myself up yesterday by going to see Claude Barras’s “My Life As A Courgette”.
You might not have come across the film before, but I’m just telling you:
PLEASE, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU SEE IT!
When I tell you that it’s an animation film – only 66 minutes long – featuring characters with enormous heads and that the leading individual is a nine year-old boy who calls himself “Courgette” (well, his mother used to call him that name), then you’d be excused for thinking that my enthusiasm was just a little over-the-top…
Courgette finds himself in a local orphanage after his alcoholic mother’s sudden death. There he meets a misfit group of children, each with their own emotional baggage and traumas to bear. But, with the help of the brilliantly supportive orphanage staff, the children find ways of getting on with their lives - and in relative harmony. Courgette’s world becomes even brighter with the arrival of young Camille…
It’s a PG film made for both children and adults (but, with all the tragic family backgrounds, my gut feeling is perhaps 10 years plus?).
The film deals with very difficult issues… but it still manages to be funny, tender, sensitive, uplifting and very beautiful. The music (by Sophie Hunger) is rather lovely too.
I didn’t (quite) cry, but critic Mark Kermode certainly did… and gave it a five star review.
I absolutely LOVED this film (and so will you)!
PS: When I originally saw the trailer, it came with sub-titles (and, with the pretty rapid dialogue, it probably meant that you’d be concentrating on the sub-titles rather than the animation?)… but the version I saw yesterday had been dubbed in English – which probably made it easier (for me) to digest/appreciate the film fully.

 

the red turtle…

Moira and I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Michael Dudok de Wit’s “The Red Turtle”. It’s a co-production with Japanese animation giants Studio Ghibli (Isao Takahata is artistic producer)… so it immediately ticked LOTS of boxes as far as I was concerned!
It’s a stunningly beautiful film – with Dudok de Wit mixing hand- and computer-drawn images throughout – and it’s also completely wordless! Laurent Perez del Mar’s breath-taking score perfectly complements the minimalist visuals… making words completely unnecessary!
The film is about the unlikely ‘friendship’ between an island castaway and an enormous sea turtle. The shipwrecked man, on a deserted island, struggles to construct a raft, but every attempt to leave is thwarted by a huge red turtle that seems intent on having him stay.
This is one of those films that you just have to see for yourself… it’s an enigmatic masterpiece.
Everyone who sees it will no doubt have a different ‘take’ on the film. I certainly don’t intend to try to explain it (I’m still trying to come to terms with bits of it myself) but I’ll just say this: the man sets out to foil the creature’s attempts to prevent his escape but, in doing so, the man finds himself being instructed in the ways of companionship, respect for the environment and ultimately being led to understand that nature must take its course.
But don’t just take my word for it… I’ve just read Mark Kermode’s five-star review in The Guardian and he ends his piece as follows:
“Seamlessly combining analogue and digital animation…, they compose a visual symphony that seems to comprise a history of cinema itself; from monochrome nights to richly hued days; from porous green trees to luminous blue seas; orange sunlight to pearlescent moonlight…
Integrating his cues with the natural soundscape, the composer utilises wood and bamboo percussion, gentle flutes and soaring strings to negotiate the film’s kaleidoscopic tones. The melodies have a nursery rhyme candour, yet encompass themes of longing and anguish, despair and delight, love and death.
I could say more, but this is a film that respects the sound of silence. It is a work of art which transcends boundaries of language, culture, geography and age. It is simply magnificent”.
It’s a poignant, powerful, gentle, charming and rather wonderful film – which I strongly urge you to see.