In Elite Dangerous, the freelance Asp Explorer fast trader Hirokazu 824 drops off a cargo of nine tonnes of clothing pods to Davidson Installation on the surface of the ringed Imperial ice world Dugnatlehi 6.
Following on from yesterday's Part 1 covering the first half of my film festival movie-going, here's Part 2 covering films 11 to 19.
The Death of Louis XIV(La mort de Louis XIV, dir. Albert Serra, France, 2016) :: Embassy Deluxe 105 mins :: ★★★½
LA MORT DE LOUIS XIV adds to the canon of Sun King films, alongside the recent A LITTLE CHAOS, directed by the late Alan Rickman, who played Louis himself with suitable gravitas. Jean-Pierre Leaud, on the other hand, is here tasked with playing a much diminished royal personage in the last weeks of his life. Confined to his bedchamber in 1715 with a worsening affliction of deadly gangrene, the film offers a faithful recreation of his grim decline, and the doctors and courtiers who surround him in these final days. Despite the life and death stakes, there is comparatively little drama - merely the struggle of loyal medicos out of their depth and valets who try and fail to encourage the king to eat and drink something, anything. While this ensures the film lacks a broad appeal beyond Francophiles and history buffs, it is a valuable curiosity and one that is sumptuously realised, with a strong central performance from Leaud, who is 72 (almost the same age as Louis was) but looks decades older here, recumbent and massively wigged in his regal death bed while the world waits for news with bated breath. A pungent, striking final scene - which I won't spoil - sticks in the memory long after the film and its titular king have departed.
After the Storm(Umi yori mo mada fukaku, dir. Kore-eda Hirokazu, Japan, 2016) :: Penthouse Cinema 117 mins :: ★★★★
Kore-eda Hirokazu has in recent years become one of my favourite directors, thanks to his amazing run of deftly observed, whimsical character studies of modern Japanese family life. I WISH, LIKE FATHER LIKE SON, and OUR LITTLE SISTER were all charming in equal measure, exhibiting great warmth and respect for the relatively ordinary people who populated their tales. This year's offering, AFTER THE STORM, is similarly a gentle, keenly observed window into its characters' lives. Ex-novelist Ryoto, now a part-time private investigator and full-time failed writer, pines for his ex-wife Kyoko, who is seeing a moderately spivvy new fellow, and longs to be a better father to his 12-year-old son Shingo. Ryoto's sprightly but elderly widowed mother Yoshiko would dearly love if Ryoto and Kyoko got back together too, but knows her son is probably too much like her unreliable gambler of a husband, who died not long before. A glowering typhoon strikes Kyushu and everyone is forced to hunker down at grandma's tiny retirement flat for a long night of home truths, potential reconciliation and discussion of the elusive joys of happiness and fulfillment. While the film's premise and staging is perhaps more subtle and less crowd-pleasing than his three previous films, this is still rich material, and the performances of its lead actors are a real pleasure to behold.
Mercenary(Mercenaire, dir. Sacha Wolff, France, 2016) :: Paramount 112 mins :: ★★★½
MERCENAIRE revolves around a fine central performance by young untrained Polynesian actor Toki Pilioko, who flees the brutal realm of his dictatorial father's New Caledonian shack for a club rugby contract in rural France. There the gentle Soane finds he's expected to bulk up on banned steroids (and urinate on cue through a fake penis that's rather the wrong skin tone), act as a team enforcer, and avoid the dual threats of jealous teammates and his crooked compatriot agent. Marred only by a rather trite conclusion, this is solid material illustrating the French Polynesian contribution to French society. If only a similar film existed to laud the crucial Polynesian role in New Zealand - I mean, does SIONE'S WEDDING count?
Midnight Special(dir. Jeff Nichols, USA 2016) :: Embassy Theatre 111 mins :: ★★½
Up-and-coming director Jeff Nichols' MIDNIGHT SPECIAL is a somewhat frustrating earth-bound sci-fi thriller with a solid and watchable cast (Michael Shannon, Kirsten Dunst, Adam Driver). It manages to maintain the premise of a middling low-budget Spielberg homage for much of its nearly two-hour length, and as such will make for a dependable if uninspiring rental watch. But on the big screen its flaws emerge more strikingly - particularly in terms of pacing and payoffs, which are vital for a successful thriller. When working with a low budget, like Gareth Edwards' 2010 ultra-cheapie MONSTERS, it's vital to string the audience along and keep them engrossed and surprised. MIDNIGHT SPECIAL provides little drama and almost no surprises until its 'big reveal' near the end, which although commendably realised, still ultimately feels like a slim reward after the mechanical join-the-dots of the plot. For a more confident emulation of the '70s-'80s formula see JJ Abrams' SUPER 8 from 2011.
Francofonia(dir. Aleksandr Sokurov, France, 2015) :: Paramount 87 mins :: ★★★½
Aleksandr Sokurov's RUSSIAN ARK (2002) is still one of the most striking and daring examples of modern filmmaking, with its bravura hour-and-a-half single-shot homage to the Hermitage in St Petersburg. Now turning his focus to foreign soil, in FRANCOFONIA Sokurov romanticises another museum and city he loves: the Louvre and Paris. While plenty of sumptuous art is displayed, this is not a conventional museum biopic, nor is it a behind-the-scenes documentary like NATIONAL GALLERY (2014). Rather, it melds the dramatisation of RUSSIAN ARK or Vienna's Kunstmuseum in MUSEUM HOURS (2012) with personal musings on the Louvre's role in French history. The dramatisations see the camera flirting with a flighty Marianne intoning 'liberte, egalite, fraternite' as she wafts amongst the sculptures, or verbal fencing with an egotistical Bonaparte as he reminds the viewer that so much of the art on display is the legacy of his martial pillage across Europe. Most time is devoted to recreating encounters between Count Metternich, the German entrusted with securing French treasures during the Occupation, and Louvre curator M. Jaujard, who worked with Metternich to safeguard France's heritage from the rapacious German high command. FRANCOFONIA is a distinctly personal view and may be frustrating for those expecting a straightforward documentary, but its idiosyncratic approach offers some gems for the persistent viewer. (See also: DIPLOMACY (2014), a French-German coproduction depicting the delicate negotiations between a Swedish diplomat and the German general ordered by Hitler to destroy Paris before its liberation)
Orson Welles had to fight for years to film his dream role as Shakespeare's Sir John Falstaff, the fat, vain and cowardly knight. In the end it took Spanish and Swiss money and the filming of CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT (1966) took place in Spain, with a script assembled around excerpts from five Shakespearean plays. Expecting an ultra-low-budget affair, it was pleasing to see a top-flight supporting cast including John Gielgud and Ralph Richardson, and ambitious crowd scenes including superb recreation of the Battle of Shrewsbury with 180 extras, in which the bulbous Falstaff capers around in gigantic armour, cowers in bushes to avoid the danger, and alienates the Prince of Wales by claiming in a bold-faced lie to have killed Henry Percy, when in fact the Prince did the bloody deed himself. So much of the film is devoted to barbed jests at Falstaff's massive girth - which Welles was amply equipped to portray at the time - that at times it feels like a Shakespearean celebrity roast. Welles gives a very fine performance, his almost spherical bulk and gnarled white beard creating a perfect depiction of tragicomic excess. The camerawork is very fine too despite the cheap filmstock, and the only place the budget really shows is in the all-redubbed voice track, which is no major distraction. Johnny Guitar(dir. Nicholas Ray, USA, 1954) :: Paramount 110 mins :: ★★★½
Written under a pseudonym by the blacklisted Ben Maddow, who also wrote THE ASPHALT JUNGLE, the Joan Crawford-starring JOHNNY GUITAR (1954) is a striking and rare feminist Western in which the menfolk dither and make foolish decisions, but the ultimate rivalry is between two headstrong, forceful women. Bitter Emma Small is convinced haughty saloon proprietress Vienna (Crawford), an outsider, is responsible for all the town's ills, even including the stagecoach robbery that killed her brother. Emma takes every opportunity to whip up mob sentiment to drive Vienna out of town, or even worse. (As the posse is riled into vigilantism and the sheriff displays an utter inability to uphold the law, there are strong parallels to the McCarthy Hollywood communists witch-hunt). No-one reckons on the return of Vienna's old beau, Johnny Guitar (Sterling Hayden), who unsurprisingly is a Man with a Past and with Feelings. The film may be named for Hayden's character but it's Crawford's picture through and through, and it fits more within the territory of the 1950s melodramas of Douglas Sirk than of the umpteen male-led Westerns of that decade. What would now be regarded as over-acting is in full display - it's not subtle, but it's certainly effective as 50-year-old Crawford barks her orders, flashes her steely gaze, and the menfolk clamour to woo her. Throughout you're wondering: most Westerns end with the protagonist and the antagonist facing off in a shootout - but surely Hollywood wouldn't when it's women instead of men? Just you wait and see.
Variety(Varieté, dir. E.A. Dupont, Germany, 1925) :: Paramount 95 mins :: ★★★½
The 1925 German silent drama VARIETE was always going to be one of the highlights of the festival, because it's received the live score treatment and was accompanied in the Paramount by a 12-piece orchestra. The film itself has been expertly restored, and depicts a tragic love triangle between Boss Huller, his young mistress Berta-Marie, and a talented but amoral acrobat, Artinelli. The social mores of the time dictate that any expression of female sexuality inevitably leads to ruination (see also: THE BLUE ANGEL, PANDORA'S BOX), but while the pixieish flirt Bertha-Marie (Lya de Putti) vamps up a storm it's Emil Jannings as the Boss who gives the film's most powerful performance, running the gamut of silent film emotions. Jannings would be the first Oscar recipient, although there are claims that he was actually only the second most popular actor after Rin Tin Tin. Only a few years later this style of acting would be rendered redundant by the onset of talking pictures, but here he owns the screen. Throughout, the film's portrayal of variety performers including the three star-crossed acrobats, and its gleeful depiction of Weimar-era excess, are fascinating glimpses into a distant cinematic age.
A Touch of Zen(Xia nu, dir. King Hu, Taiwan, 1971) :: The Roxy Cinema 180 mins :: ★★★★
XIA NU (Eng: A Touch of Zen) is a sumptuous 1971 masterpiece from Taiwan that, in its restored and untruncated form, stretches out over three hours to make superb use of its characters and setting, thereby inspiring a generation of martial arts films, not to mention the overwhelmingly popular CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON. Lingering over milquetoast scribe Ku, the viewer expects a bumbling comedy to emerge, but when fugitive warrior maiden Yang and her mysterious associates cross his path the film shifts into full Kurosawa mode. A lengthy and hugely entertaining battle scene is followed by an elegant, mystical running duel amidst a bamboo forest, which in turn takes a swerve into the metaphysical with the arrival of a troupe of Buddhist monks who Shall Not Be Trifled With. Concentrating both on the physical prowess of the legendary combatants and the balletic beauty of the martial arts, the film is justly regarded as a classic of Asian cinema.
In this year's Wellington film festival, which finished with a flourish yesterday, I viewed 19 films, which I think is a record for me, although naturally it is dwarfed by the binge-watching of more committed aficionados. I'm pleased to have seen an eclectic range of material from across the world, but it's a small pity that nothing in the New Zealand offerings garnered my interest. Next year, hopefully! Overall my choices this year were appealing and rewarding, but none of the new films I saw stood out as potential classics. Unlike last year, there was no Inherent Vice, no Our Little Sister. My highlight of the festival then was Robert Altman's McCabe & Mrs Miller from 1971, and as always it was a huge treat to see it on the massive Embassy screen. It was also great fun to hear from director Terence Davies at the screenings of his films A Quiet Passion and Sunset Song - a hugely talented artist and a witty, engaging speaker.
For the numbers geek in me, it's also strangely appealing that my festival watching has contributed to a 28-film viewing streak without a rewatch. Thanks Letterboxd for that stat!
Now if only the film festival can do something about eradicating boomers who've lost their hearing talking to each other loudly during the films (or, as one talkative gent sitting next to me claimed inventively, talking to himself), or calling in merciless ninja assassins to deal with the unknown cinemagoer who sat next to my friend Bec, who not only received but also answered two mobile calls during the screening of Tanna.
Herewith, then, are my brief thoughts on my first 10 festival films in chronological order, with the final nine to follow in Part 2:
I, Daniel Blake(dir. Ken Loach, UK, 2016) :: Embassy Theatre 100 mins ::★★★★
Blessed with simple, naturalistic performances and not restricted by its use of non-actors in supporting roles, Ken Loach's I, DANIEL BLAKE is another fine addition to his canon. With deep-running themes of human kindness and solidarity, and frustration at a cruel social welfare system that shirks its responsibility to maintain the self-respect of those forced to use it, the film also brings a deft vein of humour in the form of the bluff but gentle title hero, invalided carpenter Blake (comedian and actor Dave Johns), who befriends isolated single mum Katie (Hayley Squire), who is struggling on the poverty line in Newcastle, a town where she has been moved by social services but where she knows no-one. It's sad to say that not many stories like this make it to the big screen any more, but their power is at least recognised by Cannes, which honoured I, DANIEL BLAKE with the Palme d'Or. (Not to mention the 'Palm DogManitarian Award' for featuring a three-legged dog, more of which later). Have a look at the UK trailer here.
An absolute gem on the big Embassy screen - Robert Altman's 1971 anti-western, MCCABE & MRS MILLER, with Warren Beatty and Julie Christie in the best form of their lives. The film itself is an amazing achievement, with every gritty, grubby, beautiful scene realised in incredible detail. It richly debunks the cliched heroism of the traditional Western at every opportunity, offering an intriguing counterpoint to the popular perception of American frontier history. Sure, the dialogue is a bit inaudible, but that's a small price to pay for so many memorable scenes. And how often do you get to say this: Warren Beatty gives an absolutely outstanding performance.
A Quiet Passion(dir.Terence Davies, UK, 2016) :: Embassy Theatre 124 mins :: ★★★★
Another night, another film featuring Keith Carradine, only this time it's 45 years older. We're talking about the very fine A QUIET PASSION, the poet Emily Dickinson biopic. Expertly filmed in Massachusetts and Flanders, this is Cynthia Nixon's role of a lifetime, and veteran English director Terence Davies was present at the Embassy in Wellington for a Q&A afterwards. Davies was quite a hoot: '...the only thing I get excited about now is scatter-cushions'. Audience: venerable; tubercular; lass in front had clearly not been to finishing school because she took off her shoes and rested her feet on the seat in front.
Second in Wellington's Terence Davies double-header, his 2015 adaptation of a classic Scottish novel, SUNSET SONG, featuring the ludicrously photogenic model-turned-actor Agyness Deyn in a tale of young farm life in Kincardineshire in the first decades of the 20th century. Lush Canterbury wheatfields stood in for Scotland, so there's a New Zealand connection too. Clever, bookish and conveniently stunningly beautiful Chris (Deyn) learns from family travails and the mixed blessings of wedlock, until the Kaiser hoves into view. Throughout, Deyn is no model pretending to act - she is genuinely watchable - and her brogue seemed convincing to a Sassenach at least. The challenge though, as seen when the luminous Nastassja Kinski led Polanski's TESS, is that it can be a little difficult to sympathise completely when someone so godlike in appearance in comparison with we mere mortals suffers onscreen misfortunes. Still, this is fine film-making, and will justly popularise the 1932 novel outside its home country.
Land of Mine(Under sandet, dir. Martin Zandvliet, Denmark/Germany, 2015):: Embassy Theatre 101 mins :: ★★★½
UNDER SANDET (Eng: LAND OF MINE), a convincing Danish drama of the immediate post-war mine clearance of the sandy western shores of Jutland, which were strewn with millions of German landmines. German POWs, usually startlingly young, were forced into clearance parties, often with dire consequences. The film follows a dozen boys, most not even 18, threatened into obedience by vengeful Sgt Rasmussen. But as their inexperience and growing hunger takes hold, accidents are inevitable - will the isolated beach also be their graves? While at times a little predictable there are decent performances from all concerned, and overall the film is a good example of how to make a successful low-budget WW2 drama. Does anyone feel like making a film version of Vincent O'Sullivan's play Shuriken, about the 1943 Featherston Camp riot/massacre?
The good thing about Viggo Mortensen's post-LOTR work is that, aside from the damp squib of HIDALGO, he's made some really interesting film choices in the past decade. His most recent, CAPTAIN FANTASTIC, may not be a standout work, but it offers both a curious, mischievous and subversive view of modern parenting, childhood and family life. Raising six children off the grid in the Pacific Northwest, Ben (Mortensen) teaches his children how to survive off the land and the hippie ideal of never trusting The Man. Despite never having attended school, the children are all precociously well-read, discoursing freely on economic theory or the civic implications of the Bill of Rights. But events, dear boy, intrude, and the family must travel the length of the country, venturing into the 'real world' and dealing with its inhabitants, including their extended family, despite having no experience of how society actually functions. Raising appealing questions about the strictures of modern child-rearing and education, and satirising both the sedentary and cloistered nature of urban youth and the elaborate far-left conspiracy theories that drive Ben and his family, CAPTAIN FANTASTIC may not be everyone's cup of tea. Instead of birthdays the family celebrate Uncle Noam Chomsky Day, and at one point the eldest exclaims to his dad, 'I'm not a Trotskyist, I'm a Trotskyite! Only a Stalinist would call me a Trotskyist!' It certainly wasn't as accessible as, say, the more conventional LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE. But for me, it possessed a certain absurd charm.
Long Way North(Tout en haut du monde, dir. Remi Chaye, France/Denmark, 2015) :: Penthouse Cinema 81 mins :: ★★★½
TOUT EN HAUT DU MONDE (Eng: Long Way North) is a French animated tale of a fictitious late-19th-century Russian teenager, Sasha, who determines to track down her famous grandfather's lost expedition to the North Pole. The plucky young adventuress struggles at first dealing with the Russia outside her privileged aristocratic bubble, but soon learns the ropes both literally and figuratively as she convinces a crew of hardy mariners to accompany her into the grim white north. It's here that the film excels, with splendid artwork depicting the bleak, brutal wilds of the high Arctic, and great sound design highlighting the implacable power of shifting, growling ice as it threatens to crush their flimsy vessel. A story rich in apt girl power themes, it's only let down somewhat by its lacklustre English dubbing, which seems rudimentary. And its sentimentality: for as everyone knows in the high latitudes, first on the menu when supplies runs out are the expedition's faithful canines. Spoiler: No animated huskies were harmed in the making of this picture. (See also: To the North Pole by Zeppelin).
Tokyo Story(Tokyo monogatari, dir. Ozu Yasujiro, Japan, 1953) :: Paramount 136 mins :: ★★★★
TOKYO MONOGATARI (Eng: Tokyo Story) is the much-lauded 1953 classic by Yasujiro Ozu that makes brilliant use of its square format and fixed, low-angle camera position to take a distinctive view of post-war Japanese family life. The visit to Tokyo of two elderly parents from the Hiroshima Prefecture is not heralded with much affection by their busy, self-absorbed adult children, and only their war-widowed daughter-in-law, cooped up in a tiny one-room singletons' hostel treats them with great kindness. A gentle, measured elegy to the gradual distance that emerges between children and their parents as age and physical separation weakens traditional bonds, the film is also notable for its radical simplicity - it seems to emerge from at least two decades earlier, with its sparse, flat framing and lines delivered directly to camera as if in a silent film. Often voted one of the best films ever made, TOKYO MONOGATARI is not an exciting film to watch, but its subtle charms remain affecting and the themes expressed are truly universal. (It does feel a little weird seeing it without film critic Mark Cousins' Ulster brogue intoning over the scenes though, given how much he rhapsodises about it in The Story of Film).
Obit(dir. Vanessa Gould, USA, 2016) :: Paramount 93 mins :: ★★★½
Vanessa Gould's documentary about the New York Times' famed obituary division, whose job it is to encapsulate the lives of the great and good for posterity in the nation's journal of record, often on the shortest of possible notice. At times it seems like New York is the most documented city in existence, such is the onslaught of NY-themed documentaries: in recent years there's been PAGE ONE: INSIDE THE NEW YORK TIMES, BILL CUNNINGHAM NEW YORK, and SLIGHTLY SEMI-SERIOUS (the New Yorker cartoons doco). Despite what readers may think, the theme of a good obituary is not death, but celebrating lives led to the fullest. The film is interspersed with well-chosen examples of notables such as the man who coached JFK on his TV presentation skills in the famous 1960 televised debate that helped him defeat Nixon, and a venerable aviatrix whose 'advance' obit was first written in 1931, so certain was the newspaper that she would die young. (She outlived their predictions by many decades). In between these lives, we learn about the writing process, which is an appealing mix of 21st-century research and 19th-century-style archive trawling. A niche interest, but worthwhile for those with a fascination for the Times and its work.
Toni Erdmann(dir. Maren Ade, Austria, 2016) :: Embassy Theatre 162 mins :: ★★★★
TONI ERDMANN is the fictitious, mischief-making alter ego of Winfried, a semi-retired teacher, who flies to Bucharest to inject some chaos into the life of his work-driven, unhappy adult daughter Iren. Donning a ludicrous wig and fake teeth, he spins increasingly far-fetched stories amongst Iren's high-powered business world circle: devoted to climbing the corporate ladder, she has no friends to speak of. And while viewers might be expecting a heartfelt meeting of souls in which father and daughter reconcile their differences and emerge happier and closer, the film takes great glee in confounding expectations. In allowing its actors great leeway to experiment, the film is seriously long - and a 162 minute runtime is daunting for any film, let alone a comedy. Certainly the lead performances are appealing, particularly as they never veer towards cheap sentimentality or broad farce, but the characters are also often hard to read because they fail to conform to the usual predictable comedic payoffs, instead preferring a more oblique strategy. And if approached with an expectation of conventional logic and comedic structure, the film will probably prove frustrating; if you consider each scene with the expectation that it was included because it's funny for 'x' reason, you'll likely be disappointed. In fact, I should have found this meandering, inscrutable film powerfully irritating, but I developed quite an affection for its wilfully contrary approach, despite not being fully able to explain why. (Check out the trailer here).
The anecdotes are endless: the monsignor who appropriates a room from the adjacent apartment of a poorer priest simply by knocking down the party wall while the other man is in hospital; the diplomat priest who takes advantage of the diplomatic bag to carry mafia money across the Swiss border; the organisation Propaganda Fide, instituted to evangelise the world, that spends relatively little on this mission while owning almost a thousand valuable properties in and around Rome, many of them rented way below market price to friends and favourites.
It is striking how many Catholic organisations seem to do a whole range of lucrative things they were never set up to do, while still enjoying tax exemption as religious institutions. When priests in Salerno were granted €2.3 million of public money to build an orphanage in a depressed urban area, they built a luxury hotel instead. Found guilty of appropriating funds under false pretences in 2012, the archbishop of Salerno avoided punishment when the crime lapsed under the statute of limitations before his appeal could be heard. Others went to jail.