LFF 2010: Zero Hours Remain

David from Victim of the Time with one last report from the 54th BFI London Film Festival.

Craig gave you a packed wrap-up earlier today, but I couldn't let you go without getting in another word myself. I caught near to 50 films during the past month (give or take a couple I, er, nodded off during), and I'm happy to say there were an abundance of highs and a general lack of lows - maybe I just chose well, or maybe the programmers did. My standout film remains Kelly Reichardt's menacing Meek's Cutoff (review), while the festival practically brimmed over with stunning female performances, from Michelle Williams' two-hander in Meek's and Blue Valentine (capsule), to Jeong-hee Lee's damaged optimism in Poetry (Nat's review), to Lesley Manville's jittering sorrow in Another Year (capsule). Huge thanks to Nathaniel for hosting Craig and I, huge thanks to the festival for putting on such a great show, and huge thanks to you for reading.

For my final post, let's stick with the positivity, since the year's closing film proved a surprising package from a director I usually dislike...

127 Hours may give you a headache, but Aron Rolston had to hack his arm off, so maybe you I should stop complaining. Danny Boyle rather pre-empts the inevitable intensity of witnessing someone detach their arm with a blunt penknife by assaulting your senses from the very first moment; it’s all split screens, fast edits, impossible pans from inside kitchen units, close ups of taps dripping, and so forth. This is all rather disorientating and it barely lets up, but the film is enclosed in some vague, meaningless allusion to the speed of modern life with shots of commuters that resemble Koyaanisqatsi, and so the headrush of Boyle’s direction is a very straightforward interpretation of living in Rolston’s world. Once he gets trapped in the crevice, these stylisations barrage instead into his mind, continually taking us on flights of delirious imagination and memory.

Trapped in a limited space, this approach cracks open the film to a freewheeling, if no less intense than you’d expect, experience. The ‘realer’ scenes are kept vital by a dynamic use of sound to express the physicality of the situation. 127 Hours is a rather aggressive experience, but even if the schizophrenia of the visuals makes you put your head between your legs, the generous sense of irony and humour the script exudes, and that the playful James Franco expresses so engagingly, keep the film alive. Though maybe cover your eyes when he removes his contacts. (B+)

Coming-of-age dramas are ten-a-penny, yet the festival threw up a fair share of superbly imagined gems of that specificity. South Africa’s Oscar entrant this year is Life, Above All, where the adolescent Chanda deals with a useless, drunk stepfather, an ill mother, a rebellious friend and the judgmental gazes of her entire neighbourhood. Khomotso Manyaka is a vibrant, perceptive anchor for the film, never characterising Chanda either as burdened by or martyring herself, and importantly maintaining a sense of innocence and childlike fun in her gait and attitude. The script’s heavy emphasis on social judgment is intriguingly endorsed by the intensity of the style in these sequences, hammering home the point to such an extent that it takes on an extra layer of the camera’s judgment; it doesn’t merely observe, but judges the judgers. But specially, Life, Above All is a nuanced, powerful and engaging drama that eschews the ‘poverty porn’ that most African exports seem to engage in, without severing itself from the depiction of the nationhood that inspired that stunted idea in the first place. (A-)


More literally coming of age is Anna (Clara Augarde), centre of Katell Quillevere’s intriguing Love Like Poison. It initially seems set up as a reticent period story, in the 1.33 aspect ratio and dangerously cosy country settings. Very rapidly, though, we see that this is a modern story, with a handily unjudgmental and open attitude. Familial dynamics are skewed – Anna’s mother ashamedly confesses to being jealous of her daughter’s burgeoning sexuality; and Anna reveals herself to two very different males with markedly different intentions – and their tangle with the essence of religion is a set of thematics dealt with by the script on an unpredictable, deeply complex level. More essentially, Quillevere’s film has an innate sense of what the realisation of sexuality is like, and the repercussions it has on the people closest to Anna prove amusing, surprising, depressing, and memorable. (B+)

TIFF Capsules: Passion Play, Black Swan, 127 Hours and The Conspirator

My friend txt critic is completing his Toronto journey soon but he sent another batch of thoughts for your perusal. He starts by taking an against consensus stand.

PASSION PLAY
By far the most loathed and eviscerated film of the festival, Mitch Glazer's brazenly out there, 20-years-in-the-works labor of love is extremely slow paced, unafraid to be laughed at for its sincerity and ridiculousness, and -- though I seem to be alone on this -- perpetually interesting. The plot basically boils down to "Mickey Rourke falls in love with circus-freak-with-giant-wings Megan Fox, and has to fight to protect her from violent gangster Bill Murray," so yes, it's silly, but I admired its audacity. Rourke is very very strong, Murray is always fun to watch, and... dare I say it? I thought Megan Fox was *gasp* pretty good (though, again, alone on this). Based on the response, though, who knows if this will ever see the light of day outside of the festival circuit. (B)

That is the sad thing about festivals, even if you're wise enough to mostly see films without release dates (I've never understood why people see things that will be out within in a few weeks) some of them will remain things that only you have ever seen.

SUPER
Basically a rougher, sloppier, darker version of "Kick-Ass," James Gunn's homemade super 'heroes' flick has some moments of madcap dark humor, and a surprisingly solid central performance from Rainn Wilson, but it suffers from a severe imbalance of tone, bizarre flourishes that don't add up to much, and a perpetual mean-spiritedness that left me with a sour taste in my mouth. Ellen Page steals the movie with her childlike ADD energy and karate moves, but Liv Tyler and Kevin Bacon are squandered and seem like they wandered in from another movie. (C-)


127 HOURS
Danny Boyle's true story of survival has been received raputurously on the festival circuit so far, but while I liked it overall, I can't really jump on the bandwagon of fervor. Boyle's energetic directorial style and a bravura physical performance from the normally boring James Franco go a long way towards keeping us involved; But at the end of the day, a guy with his arm pinned under a rock just isn't an inherently cinematic or compelling story, and the jittery editing and flashbacks and hallucinations -- while understandable on a conceptual level -- almost seem like a betrayal of the realities of the situation. Also, as good as Franco is, we never (or at least I never) feel like we know anything about this guy, or why we should have vested interest in his fate. That said, Boyle and Franco do keep us wrapped up in the goings-on, and there are about a half-dozen sequences (including the insanely intense climax) that are pretty remarkable... at least until the epilogue steps on the "uplifting" pedal a little too hard/disingenuously to try to push this into Slumdog territory. It's a solid effort, and will likely go over big with audiences, but I was only intermittently feeling it. (B / B-)

Interesting take. Especially in regards to the betrayal of a gut wrenching terrifying monotony of the experience as it must have been to live. I'm nervous about this one primarily because I thought Slumdog was only OK and it actively started annoying me when people wouldn't shut up about it. Will we see a repeat of that mass hysteria? And if so does that mean Boyle will get to do anything he wants from now on?

And finally txtcritic disputes the positive notices for Robert Redford's Oscar bait and joins many in loving Darren Aronofsky's latest.

THE CONSPIRATOR
Robert Redford's dull as dishwater History Channel re-enactment depicts the true but little known story of Mary Surratt, the mother of the accused collaborator of John Wilkes Booth in the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. While it's admirable that Redford would like to teach us all about a oft-overlooked footnote in history, he sure as hell doesn't do much to make it engaging, even with a pretty fantastic cast including Robin Wright, James McAvoy, Tom Wilkinson (sporting ridiculous old-timey mutton chops) and Kevin Kline. History nuts may be enraptured, but as an actual movie, it never breaks out of its dry, dusty courtroom procedural paramaters. All I could think of during the film (especially with the presence of Tom Wilkinson) was "John Adams" and the comparison is certainly not flattering. Blech. (C-)


BLACK SWAN
I hate to pile on more advance hype, but Aronofsky's much-anticipated psychological ballet thriller is truly staggering. A tightly-wound examination of the obsessive quest for artistic perfection, the film packs in one staggering sequence after another, and never allows us to breathe easy or get comfortable. Simultaneously beautiful and grotesque, it'll likely offput as many as it seduces, but this is a movie that will still be held on a pedestal a decade or two down the line. The comparisons being made to "The Red Shoes" and "The Wrestler" are apt, but there are strong traces of "There Will Be Blood" in here as well, in regards to the extremes to which it burrows into its central character. Portman does easily her best work here, carrying the entire film on her shoulders, and Winona Ryder and Barbara Hershey are terrifying perfection. (A)

So... that's the first I'm hearing of someone really mentioning Noni. Could this be a comeback of sorts (I had assumed it was a teensy-tiny cameo since I'm purposefully not reading reviews I don't know one way or the other)? Since this film is not playing the New York Film Festival I will have to wait along with the rest of you until December 1st.

Come again?!? I can't have heard the release date correctly. I'm dying here.

Noni, Aronofsky, Natalie, and Barbara Hershey

Just for fun, here's what the Black Swan team wore to their big Canadian premiere. Mila Kunis did not attend.
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