Review: Mao's Last Dancer

Mao's Last Dancer
Dir. Bruce Beresford
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: PG
Running Time: 117mins

Some readers may be surprised to learn that Mao’s Last Dancer is indeed an Australian film. Being set primarily in China and the USA, and featuring mostly American actors, it would be easy to not realise the Australian connection, but it is funded solely by Australia, and underneath the international sheen is a collection of Australian talent. Hopefully, the tact works, and this film becomes a local and international success, because it would be nice to see audiences respond to this Australian telling of a very worldly tale.


My full review of Mao's Last Dancer can be found at Onya.

Review: Van Diemen's Land

Van Diemen's Land
Dir. Jonathan Auf Der Heide
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: MA15+
Running Time: 104mins

"Arthouse Horror Porn" (wank-fest), noun, 1. A variety of horror films targeted at the arthouse crowd that allows them the visceral thrill of watching people die in gruesome ways while also providing them with the minimal dialogue, long tracking shots and artful cinematography that they crave, allowing them to nod their head in approval and extol such lines as "yes, it's a film about the human condition" while they simultaneously look down on those who prefer horror films to actually be scary, thrilling and/or fun. 2. A sub-genre of film that allows filmmakers to indulge in gore and violence while masquerading behind a wall of pretentiousness and wankery.

3. Jonathan Auf Der Heide's Van Diemen's Land.

Set during the times of Australia's colonisation, Van Diemen's Land is set in the titular island off the south-west coast of Australia (nowadays called Tasmania) and follows the confessions of Alexander Pearce, a convict who was convicted of murder and cannibalism and hanged in 1824. He and seven other prisoners escaped their Penal Settlement and trekked their way through the Tasmanian wilderness before eventually turning to eating each other to fend off hunger.


Curiously, the story of Alexander Pearce was used as the basis of the dire horror film Dying Breed less than a year ago as well as the TV film The Confessions of Alexander Pearce from earlier this year. I have not seen the latter, but while Van Diemen's Land is much better than Dying Breed it gets nowhere close to being a good movie. It starts out promisingly enough, but soon descends into a dull, tedious mess. Van Diemen's Land is pretentiousness of the highest order.

The film is competently made from a technical standpoint, that's for sure. The cinematography by Ellery Ryan is gorgeous, yes, but filled with shots of things like the sky and trees blowing in the wind. It works here most of the time, until it becomes apparent that they're being thrown in at anytime when the story has nowhere to go. It is filmed in an almost monochrome style punctuated occasionally by the rich green forestry of Tasmania. Sound design and sound editing are also noteworthy, especially the oft-gruesome scenes of munching, biting and chewing. Grisly stuff, there. Performances run from hot to cold though with Mark Leonard Winter and Torquil Neilson proving to be best in show. As Alexander Pearce, Oscar Redding is transparent. Sure, you could say it is the character, but nothing Redding does on screen registers one iota.


The first half of Van Diemen's Land is actually quite good, however, once the nasty stuff begins, it shifts gears and all the tension that had been built comes crushing down. All the best characters either get eaten or simply walk off screen never to return. The atmosphere morphs into boredom as the numbers on screen dwindle and the interactions between them go with it. Dialogue becomes almost non-existent and the only intrigue - who's going to die next - is hindered by the fact that these characters are all deathly dull with no interesting aspects to them at all. Something could have been made out of the Pearce tale that really took a look at the madness that can form in situations as horrific as these, but Van Diemen's Land is not it. To take a pun from Pearce's nickname of "The Pieman", Van Diemen's Land is like a soggy meat pie. It's got the right ingredients, but by this stage it's no good to anyone and you may as well throw it out. C-

Review: $9.99

$9.99
Dir. Tatia Rosenthal
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: M
Running Time: 78mins

The latest in the very short list of Australian feature animations is called $9.99. Is it worth its title in a movie ticket? Probably not, but those who are willing to go along for this incredibly bizarre piece of stop-motion filmmaking will surely find something within it to tickle your fancy. A co-production between Australia and Israel, $9.99 is the second animated feature to come out of this country this year after Adam Elliot’s superb Mary and Max, and while that title is by far the superior one, it is encouraging to see such a medium being embraced by filmmakers, even if there’s no chance of them ever reaching the box office heights of even the most C-grade American animation.


Read the rest over at Onya Magazine.

Review: Blessed

Blessed
Dir. Ana Kokkinos
Year: 2009
Rating: MA15+
Running Time: 117mins

There comes a moment late into Ana Kokkinos’ latest adventure through suburban woe that features Frances O’Connor, and it will surely hit any viewer like a punch from Mike Tyson right in the gut. So visceral is the moment that it rattled me for quite some time after the credits had rolled and its effects may actually give the illusion that Kokkinos is responsible for having made a good movie.

She is not and she has not.


To read the rest, head on over to Onya Magazine.

Capsule Review: Closed for Winter

Closed for Winter
Dir. James Bogle
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: M
Running Time: 86mins

I don't really know how to describe this film in any smart way. There's only one word for it, and that's STRANGE. Strange with a capital everything. Sure, there are other words I could use like "bad", "unfulfilling" and "laughable", but I always seem to come back to "STRANGE". Like how the character played by Natalie Imbruglia, her is Elise, is so strange and how strangely everything she does facilitates a flashback. Everything from staring out of a window - Imbruglia does this a lot - to putting a key into a keyhole to watering the garden. Stranger still is the mother, played by Deborah Kennedy, who plays the same character in present day as well as flashback from 25 years ago and yet looks exactly the same! Strangest of all is Daniel Frederickson's character, Elise's boyfriend, who is played entirely for laughs in a story about a mysterious child disappearance and possible child rape! Yikes.

Strangeness continues during scenes featuring rave clubs, gardening montages and all the particularly strange moments when Elise just gets incredibly angry over the smallest of things. And then there's the strange way the film is edited and constructed. Oh look, the camera is zooming in on something integral to the upcoming flashback! Ay ay ay. I really can't explain it and it was so strange that I can't even form a proper critique of it. Let's just say it's poorly acted, badly written, blandly filmed and with no apparent taste barrier (did we really need all those near-slapstick comedy moments at the boyfriends' house?) There's Aussie Gothic and then there's just silliness.


And strangeness. D

Review: Lake Mungo

Lake Mungo
Dir. Joel Anderson
Year: 2009
Rating: M
Running Time: 87mins

David Lynch is, perhaps, not the chief person you would think of to inspire an Aussie ghost story, but there it is clear as day right there on the screen. Joel Anderson's debut film, the suspense-filled fright fest called Lake Mungo (for those unaware of Australian geography, it is a real place and holds the key to the film's central mystery). In retrospect I feel like those haunting synethesisers of Angelo Badalamenti's Twin Peaks theme should play over the - very eerie - opening credits. It's actually a shame that the overriding sense of Anderson snatching bits and pieces of Lynch's resume is so obvious because it occasionally distracts from what is a really great movie.

Filmed in the style of a documentary, Lake Mungo traces the story of Australian teenager Alice Palmer who accidentally drowned in a weir while on holiday with her family. Her family believes her ghost is haunting their suburban home and in trying to solve the mystery, they uncover the dark secrets that Alice withheld. The same secrets that, ultimately, cost her her life. The similarities to Twin Peaks are already immense. Throw in paedophiles, hidden video tapes, sexual escapades, supernatural twists, kooky doctors and even a scene in which a man is seen hiding behind a piece of furniture in Alice's bedroom and you've got yourself a sort of mix tape of Lynchian Twin Peaks shenanigans. And I'm not even mentioning the fact that the film's biggest scare is seemingly taking a big ol' page out of the INLAND EMPIRE book. Oh wait, there I go talking about it. I told myself I wouldn't!


Thankfully though, the film emerges out of these shadows that it creates and succeeds at being a scary little movie that you should try and seek out with its scares that are far more creative than the latest piece of Hollywood pap. It is not jump-out-your-seats-gasping sort of scary (although that did happen to me once, I literally JUMPED OUT OF MY SEAT!) but works with the sort of frights that creep up on you. The emergence of a shadowy figure in the background or the sudden appearance of a figure in the frame. The hairs on the back of neck stood on end and at several moments I found myself cowering in my seat.

While the film owns an obvious debt to David Lynch, there is also a strong element of The Blair Witch Project. From the opening title card and onwards, the film actually makes the faux-documentary structure work for it. Ghosts are always going to be less scary and harder to make work than being alone in the forest with things that go bump in the night, so presenting the film as a documentary, as if it is true and real and not just a story being told by a group of filmmakers, really helps overcome that. Suspension of belief becomes true believing.


It also helps that the film is so well cast. While Talia Zucker doesn't get much of a chance to shine as the deceased Alice, Rosie Traynor, David Pledger, Chloe Armstrong and Martin Sharpe all work wonderfully, as assorted family and friends of Alice, in letting the viewer believe the situation that is unfolding before their eyes. At one point when I thought the film was beginning to wear out its welcome - a scene at the titular Lake Mungo filmed entirely on a mobile phone camera - it does a complete 180 that results in one of the scariest moments I've seen on screen in a while.

And make sure you stay during the closing credits. Just as with the opening credits, the closers are creepy and have stayed with me. They also made me want to watch the movie again right that second to see if Anderson had been as smart all along as he is implying (you'll see what I mean). And then, again, wait until the very end where the film ends with a flash of eerie imagery, which reminds me to also mention the fantastic cinematography of John Brawley. A documentary-styled movie might not seem like the natural place for fantastic lensing, but some of the images on show here are frightening and deceptive in their simplicity. Lake Mungo is one of the finest and most original scary tales in a long time. B+

Review: The Young Victoria

The Young Victoria
Dir. Jean-Marc Vallée
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: PG
Running Time: 100mins

Did you not think there were enough big hats in The Duchess? Did you think Elizabeth: The Golden Age could have done with a bit more frilly lace? Did Becoming Jane's heroine just not rise above society's sexism enough for your liking? Was The Other Boleyn Girl just too much like an episode of Melrose Place with just a lot of big flouncy dresses? Then you may just like The Young Victoria, a new period costume drama as directed by Canadian Jean-Marc Vallée, a man who was probably only hired because his name sounds French and prestigious and, thus, looks impressive on a movie poster. Bless 'em for trying.

The problem with The Young Victoria is that it is exactly the movie you expect it to be. If you have seen the trailers and the ads on the tele ("she's changed the world while wearing puffy sleeves - she deserves your attention!" is what I imagine they say) then you probably will. A lady behind me at my session was shedding tears by films end, which is a sign that the film's orchestral score had done their job for at least one attendee. For me, however, it mostly fails to do anything verging on different.


In case you had not figured yet, there is no twist in the title for The Young Victoria. It is not some Marie Antoinette-esque telling of Queen Victoria's story in which she is actually played by someone very old who wears Doc Martins. No, no, Queen Victoria's story of love and loss AND THEN LOVE AGAINOMG!!! is played by the usually quite wonderful Emily Blunt. She is an actress who has proven a strong force on screen and has given performances in films like The Devil Wears Prada and My Summer of Love that have elevated said films. Unfortunately here she is forced to put on a weak girlishness while sporting ridiculous curls in her hair that, I guess, are meant to provide the illusion of her being younger than her 26 years. They do not work. Throughout the entire film she looks exactly the same! Hmmm.

Was anybody else aware that Queen Victoria's life was just like that out of a romance novel? Oh yes. Watch as she DEFIES HER PARENTS! Watch as she begins a SECRET LOVE AFFAIR! Watch as she must STEP OUT FROM THE SHADOW OF MEN THAT SURROUND HER! Watch as she WEARS A GREEN DRESS... ANDTHENABLUEONEOMG!!!

Speaking of the dresses, they are indeed very pretty as designed by Sandy Powell, costume designer extraordinaire. I did, however, get the impression that she just borrowed the costumes from the set of an identical movie. I could have sworn that I'd seen them before! The art direction, too, is quite nice to look at and as unimpressive as Blunt and the rest of the cast is, at least they too are attractive. I'm not sure why the genes in the British royal family mean that once someone fits a certain age their looks just VANISH, but it appears that is the case. Everyone who is young in the royal family is gorgeous, everyone who is older is just soggy and saggy.


I'm not sure how Vallée made Miranda Richardson uninteresting, but he did. Ala Charlotte Rampling's role in last year's The Duchess, she doesn't have much to do other than stand in doorways and look unimpressed by things. Rupert Friend is okay as the Queen's suitor and it's always nice to see Paul Bettany in something that is not Wimbledon.

As I said before, if you like the look of this movie then, by all means, go along. Martin Scorsese and Sarah "Fergie" Ferguson need your money!! Just don't expect surprises. Or suspense. Or emotional conflict. Or anything remotely resembling a scene in which Queen Victoria yells about having a hurricane within her. If she did then I fear we never got to see it, which is a shame and that generally makes the film a wash. I do want to send out a big piece of praise, however, to Harriet Walter. She was quite excellent in her brief role. Shame the rest of the film couldn't rise to her level. C-

Review: The September Issue

The September Issue
Dir. RJ Cutler
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: PG
Running Time: 90mins

Watching the new documentary The September Issue is, at times, quite strange. It was made in 2007, which means its filming started before the similarly-themed The Devil Wears Prada was released and became a worldwide hit. Director RJ Cutler must have been kicking himself that he hadn't come up with this idea a couple of years earlier, which would have made its release come at the same time, making it able to feed off of that Hollywoodised version of the tale. It's also funny that the world of fashion is so deep into trends and seasons and yet this movie is coming out nearly two years after the fashions it features would have run their course and been thrown out by the "fashionistas" and fashionista wannabes that rush to purchase Vogue so they can feel in the know. Everybody watching The September Issue will be judging the clothes as much as they will the movie itself, and it adds an interesting dynamic in knowing that this is all from two years ago. Interesting too is that barely any of the clothes featured within are the sort of outfits that regular people could indeed purchase and wear on a coffee date. Such is the world of fashion.

As the poster states, "Fashion is a religion, this is the bible" and The September Issue goes a good way in showing just why. In its brisk - very brisk - 90 minute running time we follow the five month process that goes into creating the famed "September issue" of Vogue. Given unlimited access to the work (and occasional home) life of editor-in-chief Anna Wintour, it is this that gives the film an edge over a more broadly-based documentary on the fashion industry.


Wintour has been called many things, least offensively being "bitch" (yes, least offensive), but while she can, at times, come off as quite passive aggressive, a bitch she is not. Not to those who she cares for anyway. She's blunt, yes, but if you were in charge a media empire such as Vogue and you lived and breathed it every day of the year then I am sure you'd lose the ability to be subtle too. And the old expression is as true here as it's ever been; if Wintour was a man she would be commended for doing such a great job, but because she's a woman she is "cold" and "a bitch". It's unfortunate then that the film doesn't delve into Wintour's opinions on those ideas. It sticks strictly to the fashion and in that regards the film succeeds.

Watching this alternate universe work is quite fascinating. Watching not only Wintour, but also the likes of her fashion editor Grace Coddington, up-and-coming designer Thakoon, eccentric and flamboyant editor-at-large André Leon Talley and the many models, art directors, photographers and assistants that populate the offices at Vogue. Not enough time is given to them, unfortunately, but thankfully Cutler has recognised what a wonderful personality he has in Coddington, who eventually becomes the star of the film with her giant mass of hair and her defiant opinions on Wintour's methods. The film truly sparks when she is on screen.

Wintour herself, however, does prove to be an enjoyable person from time to time. It's quite endearing to see her cracking jokes when she has the reputation she does. She is confident and motivated and worked her arse off to get the best magazine she can onto the shelves. She is in charge of this empire and that means not talking to the models in a way that would please them then so be it. Having seen the mammoth task she undertakes - remember that whilst this "september issue" is being produced there are still other issues to be published - then I think comes off more than acceptable.


One person who doesn't come out smelling quite as nice is, unfortunately for her, Sienna Miller. The actress whose managers somehow got her onto the cover of the September issue that the film follows. Miller is ripped to shreds by this movie. Whether its everybody and their pets talking about how bad her hair is, to the photographer blaming her for a photoshoot in Room not working and then to everyone complaining her teeth are too big in one shot while her neck isn't right in another. Poor gal probably won't wanna sit down to watch The September Issue any time soon.

In the end though The September Issue is a fun time at the movies. It overflows with gorgeous feathers, frills and fashion with a great collection of characters on show. It's not all light and fluffy, but its never a drag. One just wishes that the director had used this unique and rare opportunity that he was given to truly delve into some of the more serious issues on hand such as sexism and the idea that fashion is nothing more than a waste of time by people who think football is the height of greatness. B-

MIFF 2009 Review: The White Ribbon

The White Ribbon
Dir. Michael Haneke
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: N/A
Running Time: 144mins

As some people will be aware, I have a strange relationship when it comes to Austrian filmmaker Michael Haneke. Of the films from his resume that I have seen, opinions run wild from the excellence of Hidden to the appalling Time of the Wolf. I have routinely felt that he is a director who feels he is better than you, me and everyone we know. Although his recent shot-for-shot remake of his own dire Funny Games proves that, perhaps, he's not as smart as he thinks. All this brings me to The White Ribbon, a movie that feels like none other than Haneke has made.

This latest, the winner of the Palme d'Or at Cannes earlier this year, feels distinctly different to his previous work. Not so much more conventional as it is made with more conventional ingredients. There's a love story, notably pretty cinematography and a fluid flow made out of less stagnant shots. Of course that doesn't mean the movie is any more mainstream than The Piano Teacher. There is a mystery that doesn't get resolved, there are disturbing themes of violence and sexual repression and other goodies just like it. If Hidden couldn't break him out of the arthouse ghetto then I doubt this will.


A man riding his horse gets tripped by a hidden wire in the opening scene of The White Ribbon, and so starts the series of mysterious events that plague the villagers in this pre-WWI German town. And while they prove quite fascinating Haneke seems to lose interest, as I was certain he would, and instead decides to focus more on the lives of these townsfolk. There's a religious teacher, the adulterous Baroness, the nosy school children, the mean-spirited doctor. It could almost count as a soap opera if it weren't for all the displays of pretension and worshipping of arthouse deities. The mysteries are always there, mostly kept to the background, but he has other things on his mind. What they are I can't quite say.

That may come off as negative, but I actually quite liked The White Ribbon in a general sort of way. I battled sinking eyelids throughout early parts of the film, but once I got over my enjoyment went up. Perhaps "enjoyment" isn't the right word, actually, since there's not much here to enjoy if the typical sense, but the world that Haneke makes here is a great study and one that is filled with tension, danger and even, at times, delightful frivolity.


However, and there tends to always be a however when it comes to Haneke and I, I can't help but feel that The White Ribbon is yet another case of a director putting too much onto the audience when there, perhaps, might not be enough there to warrant it. I am sure Haneke has all sorts of ideas inserted into this movie, which he also wrote, but yet again a director has gone down the path of ambiguity to disguise it and, judging from the people sitting around me at the MIFF screening, I'm not alone in thinking that it's not there on the screen. It's all well and good for a film to be a metaphor or an allegory or whatever Haneke intentended this film to be, but if he expects the audience to pick up all of the slack then I don't know if he has done his job.

There are moments here that with just minor tweaking could have really changed the entire film. Whether that be making it more sinister or having less of a wondering eye in regards to certain plot points. He also provides narration, but that barely helps since it usually acts as nothing more than a literal narration of what is on screen. By now fans of Haneke can probably see anything they want to see in one of his movies, but I'm not entirely positive that with this film it actually is there. No amount of stunning - and I do mean stunning - cinematography (by Christian Berger) or solid acting (my personal favourite being who I believe is Leonie Benesch, but character names are all a blur here so I can't be entirely positive unfortunately) can hide that. For me The White Ribbon falls squarely alongside Code Unknown. Respectable and well-intentioned, but flawed by a director who is too busy being mysterious instead of actually just telling a story. B-

MIFF 2009 Review: Antichrist

Antichrist
Dir. Lars Von Trier
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: R18+
Running Time: 109mins

I actually think seeing Lars Von Trier's latest film deep in the midst of a film festival is the best possible thing. Casually going to the cinema and seeing it could very easily give the impression that Antichrist is a pretentious horror wank. It's easy to dismiss it as pretentious what with it's obsessions with things like "gynocide" and clitoral mutilation, however, having sat through many other films over the two weeks of the Melbourne International Film Festival I can most certainly assure you that Antichrist is not pretentious. You want pretentious? How about Treeless Mountain, a movie so minimalist that even the long passages of silence think they're better than you. Or what about The White Ribbon (a film I more or less liked), which doesn't even have an ending! Now that is pretentious.

Antichrist is a relentlessly unsettling movie and acts as a sort of cleanser for Von Trier who had waffled aimlessly around since the masterpiece of Dogville. Trite like Manderlay and the unnecessary, but slightly entertaining, The Boss of it All. I am quite certain that Von Trier believes his own statements that he is the greatest filmmaker of all time, and while I can't quite agree with him (yet), I do think he is one of the most important and he continues to be one of the only directors brave enough to make a movie as completely and utterly insane and deranged like Antichrist.


Divided into four "chapters" plus a prologue and an epilogue, the movie opens with the - if you can call it such - elegantly filmed death of a baby that belongs to a mid-tryst Charlotte Gainsbourg and Willem Dafoe. It is then decided that a trip to the couple's holiday house in the woods is in order for Gainsbourg's "Her" to reconcile herself with the feelings of hopelessness. It is here that the film descends into the infamous shenanigans that have given the film a reputation as one of the most controversial of all time. Of course, people will go on about the film's depiction of violence - it's far from the goriest film you'll ever see - and Von Trier will be labelled a misogynist, but what I saw was such impressive craft.

What actually struck me quite early on, in the hospital scenes precisely, was the writing. Such cutting and icy dialogue spewing forth out of Dafoe and Gainsbourg and delivered so sharply. Gainsbourg is very impressive here and probably deserved her Cannes award for Best Actress, but I can't express enough how much Dafoe matches her scene for scene. He really impressed me here. Visually the film is a stunner, too, with cinematography by recently Oscar-minted Anthony Dod Mantle. Equally impressive is the sound design, which could almost crush bones it is that intense. It shamelessly steals music cues from The Blair Witch Project, but the sense of ever-increasing doom that it creates is quite palpable.


I'm not sure what Von Trier could have done with this movie to avoid calls of misogyny. He got labelled as one when he attached a large wheel to Nicole Kidman in Dogville and he's still being called on when he does the same to Willem Dafoe. In this case the woman is the villain and not the victim and yet he's still sexist. Colour me confused, okay! Maybe if he wrote a scene in which Gainsbourg hilarious wore vibrating underwear?! Lars Von Trier is one of the only directors continuously making truly career-defining roles for women that I find it hard to consider him sexist. Bjork, Emily Watson, Nicole Kidman and now Charlotte Gainsbourg. What a wonderful list!

The movie's end credits are nothing more than the film's title crudely written in red text over an ugly green background, illustrated by Per Kirkeby, and yet at film's end a large number of crowd members remained. And at 1am too! Lars Von Trier is a master of manipulating his audience. There's something deliciously wicked about naming one of the chapters "PAIN: Chaos Reigns" in order to elicit a collective audience wince. I obviously can't say whether the audience liked it or not, but of all the films I saw at MIFF it was this that seemed to spark the most discussion. People wanted to turn to the person next to them afterward and ask "what was that?" I have to admire any film that can do that. That I think the film is quite good as well is a powerful statement and one that won't soon be leaving my mind. B+

MIFF 2009 Review: Fish Tank

Fish Tank
Dir. Andrea Arnold
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: N/A
Running Time: 130mins

With just two feature films, British filmmaker Andrea Arnold has already solidified herself as one of cinemas most vital and enthralling directors. Having already been incredibly impressed by her debut feature, the urban horror film Red Road, and now even more so by her followup, Fish Tank, Arnold is a rare case of being able to see a director become a great right in front of our very eyes.

Fish Tank stars newcomer Katie Jarvis - who truly is every bit as good as you have probably heard - as Mia, a 15-year-old who has flunked out of school and spends her days abusing the other girls who live near her community housing block, as well as hip-hop dancing in a vacant flat and roaming the neighbourhood looking for ways to waste time. She lives with her mother (Kierston Wareing) and her younger sister who is going down the exact same path. Into their lives comes mum's new boyfriend played by Michael Fassbender, a man that allows Mia to experience something other than a mother who doesn't appear to want her and a world that has already proved indifferent towards her.


Arnold's ability to portray urban decay is not that impressive in itself, but it's more what she does with it that has made me sit up and take notice. It would be easy for Arnold to have merely indulged in lower class miserabilism by inflicting pain on these unfortunate human beings, but instead she strives to find hope for Mia. Scenes showing the young girl dancing may initially feel like a cheap way on endearing her to viewers - "Look at that girl dance! Maybe she's lovely after all." - but it ends up providing but a window into her world, a world where hip-hop music is the language of the day and dancing does everything from cleansing the soul to expressing one's desire to be with a boy.

Fish Tank is filled with moments that provide the viewer with a strong image of the world that these characters fill. I thought it was quite humourous seeing Mia and her sister watch TV while drinking and smoking in a room painted pink and with horsey stickers on the banister. As Mia, Jarvis is truly exceptional. Given Jarvis' back story - she was seen by a casting director at a train station having a row with her boyfriend - it may not sound all that hard to act out scenes in which she exchanges insults with her sister like "cuntface" and "fuckface", but the longer the film goes, the easier it becomes to see the sadness lurking beneath and the desperation and power that Jarvis has enforced on her character.


Andrea Arnold makes movies about British lower class woe that are actually worth telling. They are unlike any other and for this I am grateful. So many clearly talented directors have become misguided and think they must use their talent to tell harsh and ugly tales. Another director may have wanted Mia to become depressed and a strung out drunk like her mother, but I don't think Arnold does. She could have easily made Mia miserable and made her life, and our viewing experience, a big joke, but she doesn't. The final scenes, I think, are testament to this. When Arnold could have easily gone for one last humiliation - something a lesser director would have done under the guise of "telling it like it is!" - she pulls Mia out of it and instead gives her reason to go down another path.

Fish Tank is an incredibly important film and one that has continued to stir through my mind in the days since. It may be filmed in the traditional 4:3 ratio of television, but it is truly cinematic and it is a brilliant, wonderful movie. A-, threatening to grow to an A

MIFF 2009 Review: Prodigal Sons

Prodigal Sons
Dir. Kimberly Reed
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: N/A
Running Time: 86mins

The first thing one will surely notice about Kimberly Reed's debut film, a documentary about the return to her hometown in Montana, USA - is what a great person she is. She has inserted herself at the front of her film, for obvious reasons, and thankfully she is charming, funny and the sort of person I actually want to spend 90 minutes with. That Reed used to be the co-captain of the football team and a blond-haired idol son before undergoing sexual re-assignment surgery almost ends up besides the point considering the film's focus squares in closely on that of her elder adopted brother, Marc.

The term "only in America" springs to mind when talking about Prodigal Sons since there are so many twists, turns, stories and unimaginable sidetracks. That Orson Wells actually proves to be a life-changing figure in this very real documentary goes but a mere small distance in describing how truly wild the story of Reed's hometown return becomes. While audiences, and Reed herself, may expect nothing more than a firsthand account of the troubles associated with the integration of a transgendered person into life in Small Town, USA, it quickly becomes much more. A study into mental illness, an insane family tree, a haunting and horrific family tale and a empowering tale of strength and courage amongst them.


Early passages of Prodigal Sons follow the more traditional aspects of Kimberly Reed's tale. Her return to the Montana town she grew up in and her attendance to the high school reunion that has plagued her thoughts for weeks. She has returned along with her girlfriend, which makes it a twofer of possible problems for the girl who, in her prior life, was the boy all the mothers wanted their daughters to bring home (and the boy all the daughters wanted to be with in behind the bleachers). These scenes actually prove quite touching as the attendees of the reunion end up being an enlightened lot for the most part, which is comforting.

It is, however, after these scenes that the true story of Prodigal Sons begins to reveal itself and her brother Marc is at the forefront, right there with Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles. I wouldn't have believed any of it if I wasn't keenly aware that this was indeed a documentary and not a mockumentary and one big "gotcha" punk. I won't dare spoil the twists and turns of the lives of Reed and her family, but they are big and it's fortuitous and they happened when the cameras were rolling. One gets the sense that there may have been a ounce of time manipulation on their behalf, but that's a minor fault.

What Prodigal Sons turns into in cannot be predicted anymore than the Hollywoodised developments with Welles and Hayworth. There is true heartache in this documentary and the films final act is so heavily drenched in sadness that the pain threatens to tear through the screen. Several scenes in particular, and you will know then when you see the film for yourself - and i hope that you do see it whenever you possibly can - are like real life horror movie scenes, tinged with violence and sadness.


However, the one idea that I got from the film and that it is that Kim's family has been able to overlook her controversial decisions because they can still see the soul they have known. Her family has realised that there are far worse things in this world than being gay, lesbian or transgendered. It's such a shame that everyone else can't realise that as well. There are people out there like Marc and I find it frightening the number of parents who would openly admit to preferring a child like him than a child like Kim.

This film should be shown to every parent of a gay child. I am sure that would quickly turn around and appreciate their child for all that they are worth when they realise the plethora of other far more life-threatening issues that their child could deal with. This is a documentary in it's most classical sense and it's one that truly deserves to be told. A-

MIFF 2009 Review: Outrage

Outrage
Dir. Kirby Dick
Year: 2009
Aus Rating: N/A
Running Time: 90mins

I imagine that one's enjoyment of and reaction to Kirby Dick's latest exposé documentary Outrage will depend almost in relation to one's beliefs about the issues it raises. The issues in this case are the outing of American politicians who have emphatically voted against gay rights issues, equality measures, AIDS funding and those who have actively tried to hide their sexuality in the closet as a means of furthering their career.

Understandably, there are many who disagree with Outrage on a moral level. They can be gay or straight, Republican or Democrat, male or female, because it is a very prickly issue, but one that I, personally, felt should be exposed. Many of the stories held within Kirby Dick's film are from a time when the Internet allowed many of these men to hide their sexualities and their exploits. One such case involves Terry Dolan, a prominent figure in the ushering in of the conservative era thanks to his role in the National Conservative Political Action Committee and how he was known amongst the gay community as a frequenter of the Flamingo gay club in New York City. At the time they would have gone undisclosed in a heavily conservative news and political system and for it amazed this viewer that stories such as these stretch back a long way.


Figures such as Dolan, since deceased from AIDS-related illness, are perhaps easy targets and it is there that Outrage will leave a bad taste in some audience members' mouths. I, however, thought it apt and definitely an important topic in regards to the hypocrisy of these people. The case that opens the film, and the case that has the best chance of being of knowledge to viewers, is that of Larry Craig is a thrilling tale and one that was still under-reported by those whose investment in gay rights issues is nil.

Dick's film isn't the stiff and severe movie you might be thinking it is. There is some wicked humour within, frequently thrown in due to the intelligent and witty talking heads such as Rodger McFarlane, and the sly nods to bad Freudian slips from the outed politicians. "Thanks for coming out today" says Larry Craig at a news conference. If only, right? And then just moments later it is tugging at the heartstrings as the cases of hate crimes are raised including Lawrence King, the 15-year-old who was shot dead by a classmate, and even moments of sadness such as the case of Dina McGreevey, the wife of a gay politician who came out after years of marriage. Kirby Dick manages to balance these out nicely and by films end I could have kept watching for another hour.


As someone who thinks the issues at hand are worth putting out in the open I appreciated the film. As a gay man whose rights are continuously thrown aside and ignored I found no real problem in outing the same people who made it their mission to stifle my rights. The film stresses that it is not interested in "outing" closeted gay politicians who have not gone out of their way to destroy the rights of other gay people. In that it exposes hypocrisy that we all know is there, but that others don't want to admit exists. If they did that it would mean there are actual gay people with prominent power and that they couldn't pretend homosexuals only exist on the fringes. And, for that, I think the film should have been been and should be seen. B+

Black + White Friday Saturday: King Kong (1976) & King Kong (2005)

I wanted to take a look at these two remakes of the black and white classic monster movie King Kong. I thought it would be interesting to see if either of them lend themselves to the classical style of filmmaking that black and white photography lent itself too.

I actually had to outsource the caps used in this installment. I don't actually own either of these movies on DVD, so all images are from DVD Beaver.


Oh Jessica Lange! I can't take her seriously at all in this movie. Can you? There's something there that just turns me off majorly.


I much preferred Peter Jackson's remake, but even that had major problems and really wasn't that good. I'm not entirely convinced that Naomi Watts portrayed the character 1920s enough, but she was far better than Lange. I do hate those bloody hats though!


I just think this is a bit gorgeous.


I remember really liking this scene as I felt it actually tried to be like an old movie (unlike so many other sequences in this remake). On one hand I guess it's a good thing that Watts didn't do the same style of performance as Fay Wray did in the original, but on the other hand I sort of miss it.


Apart from the very "of the time" top that Jessica Lange is wearing here, this could conceivably be seen as a shot from an old movie. I think it's the moustache.


This image is actually quite wonderful. I thought the scene was "a bit much" in the film, but it did look gorgeous. In black and white though this actually looks more like a sketch drawing using charcoal.


She's not exactly Fay Wray, is she?


I just think this is a bit gorgeous.

I do find it interesting though that in black and white this moment looks far more ominous than it does in the colour version. All those dark clouds look far more scarier than the overly orange hues that they were before.


This is ridiculous. How is it that a remake made some 60 years after the original can have effects that are barely improved? In fact, I'd go so far to say that they're worse in this 1976 remake than the original since, at least, the 1933 version was made in 1933. This image particularly looks quite silly don't you think? What would I know though, the film won an Oscar for its visual effects so there ya go.


By far the best scene in either of these remakes was this quite touching moment on the ice rink in New York City. It looked like 100% CGI, which was one of the big disappointments of Jackson's film in general, but even that couldn't stop this moment being lovely.

MIFF 2009 Review: Treeless Mountain

Treeless Mountain
Dir. So Yong Kim
Year: 2008
Aus Rating: N/A
Running Time: 89mins

Sometimes I find that there are some movies that are just too easy for critics. And by that I mean they feel tailor-made to be tagged with labels such as "masterpiece" and "tremendous", without much thought. The tell-tale signs of such a movie are generally gorgeous cinematography, minimalistic dialogue and a point that is all too conveniently "abstract". I can almost hear the filmmaker extolling such virtues as "I like the audience to come upon their own interpretation of the mis-en-scene".

And that brings me to So Yong Kim's Treeless Mountain, a movie that paints a very pretty picture, but didn't convince me that there was much "there". If you know what I mean.

Starring Hee-yeon Kim and Mi-hyang Kim as two sisters in Seoul, South Korea, aged 7 and 5. Early scenes show them at school, eating dinner with their mother (an affecting Soo-ah Lee) and the like. It is not too long, however, before their mother has left them in the care of their aunt for reasons that become vaguely clearer later in the picture, but are always just slightly mysterious. It is here that the story, as much of one that I could decipher, truly starts as these two impressionable and vulnerable girls learn to live with a future that they are unaware is more uncertain than they can fully comprehend.


From here the girls learn to live in the South Korean suburbs. They make friends with a neighbourhood boy and their mother bakes them sweets. They catch grasshoppers and cook them to make small change to fill the piggy bank that their mother told them that when full she would return. And so on it goes before their Aunt (Mi-hyang Kim) ships them off to their grandparents where they must adjust once again. All of this is, of course, set to a recurring palate of sunsets and cloud formations. As if you'd have it any other way.

What there is here is, at times, really quite wonderful though. Hee-yeon is really wonderful as the girl who is trying to be strong, but is actually naive, for reasons she can't quite understand. Several of the supporting cast-members, too, add a wonderful flavour. I'm not sure what the actors name is, but the woman who plays the mother of Mijoo was quite humourous. There are brief sprinklings of insightful dialogue - "can't you play like a princess?" asks the Aunt, quickly growing tired of her new found responsibility - and it does look good.


Here, unfortunately, is the tricky part. Yes, there is a good deal of intriguing issues here, but that's not exactly because of the director. Long takes, shots of light filtering through clouds and sad, crying children don't a masterpiece make. Yes, the film is beautiful and is, at times, moving and thematically quite interesting, but so would any movie about two young children being ditched by their mother and I'm not convinced there is enough bubbling under Treeless Mountain. There is something missing from Treeless Mountain, as if it is empty and is just waiting for audiences to implant their own feelings on the subjects and hail it a masterpiece. "It is about whatever you want it to be about", you know? If So Yong Kim isn't going to put in the effort then why should I? C+

MIFF 2009 Review: Yuri's Day

Yuri's Day
Dir. Kirill Serebrennikov
Year: 2008
Aus Rating: N/A
Running Time: 137mins

Perhaps this film would have been better titled "Yuri's Day and Night" since it has a distinct split personality. On one hand it is, predominantly during the first half, an intense and eerie exploration of a mysterious disappearance in a small provincial town. On the other hand it is a more traditional, if still quite abstract, film about a woman on the search for her missing child. I much preferred the former, but the entire film is still a very worthy viewing.

Kirill Serebrennikov's film opens with mother and son driving to her hometown. She is Lyubov, a famous opera singer on television, about to make the move to Vienna before taking her son to visit her birthplace before leaving Russia forever. He is Andrei and is a bit of a brat, like a lot of teenagers would be if they were being shipped off to another country. It becomes quickly apparent to the pair, however, that their appearance is not exactly warmly welcomed and after a trip to the local equivalent of a theme park - a sort of mini-Kremlin with a bell tower and museum - Andrei disappears. "He can't just vanish" says Lyubov, but as a policeman later tells her 30-40,000 people do every year in Russia.


These opening stretches are filled with ominous images and sounds. There's almost a David Lynchian quality to the opening half of the film - Andrei's disappearance happens relatively quickly - with its score of tuning violins and deep bass on the soundtrack. Images of snow fogs and a town filled with weird characters and creepy architecture help to give the film an unsettling edge. But there is more to it than just that. There is actually some wonderful humour in the relationship between Lbuyov and Andrew; they feel like a real pair these two with histories and a real forged relationship.

After Andrei's disappearance Kseniya Rappoport really shines in the role of Lyubov. Her face expresses so many different emotions and she never skips a beat between portraying fear and confusion whilst still reeling off sarcastic one-liners to the locals. Serebrennikov handles the disappearance with great skill, too. Throwing in various keys to solving the mystery and keeping the deeply eerie atmosphere up.


However, at about the half way mark he decides to turn the film into a more standard affair as Lyubov teams up with the local sheriff to find her son. It doesn't quite descend into Changeling levels of filmmaking, but it certainly removes a big punch that it carried. The more intriguing aspect of this part of the film is Lyubov's descent back into the ways of her ancestors. Dying her hair bright orange (because it's the only colour the local shop sells), becoming a loud brute and using violence against others are just some of the attributes she quickly begins to use that she wouldn't have considered before Andrei.

I won't give away whether the central mystery is resolved, but the answer is almost secondary to Serebrennikov's desire of the story he wanted to tell. The film works best when it presents disquieting imagery such as a lone car in a snowed in car park, a burning tree in a courtyard, a bell tower ringing when it is supposedly locked and empty. When the credits role, however, I was left with a feeling of unease and, despite some of the problems Yuri's Day has, that is actually a good thing. B