Night On Planet Earth

Quote for the Week

2012-02-10T17:52:00.000Z

'I don't care about stories. I never did. Every story is the same. We have no new stories. We're just repeating the same ones. I really don't think, when you do a movie that you have to think about the story. The film isn't the story. It's mostly picture, sound, a lot of emotions. The stories are just covering something. With "Damnation," for example, if you're a Hollywood studio professional, you could tell this story in 20 minutes. It's simple. Why did I take so long? Because I didn't want to show you the story. I wanted to show this man's life' - Béla Tarr, from An Interview With Bela Tarr: Why He Says 'The Turin Horse' Is His Final Film

The Hammer Out Book of Ghosts

2012-01-29T16:27:00.000Z

A short ghost story I wrote last year called The Widow and the Deserter has been published in The Hammer Out Book of Ghosts. 100% of the profits go to the Hammer Out Charity, which provides support for people suffering from brain tumours. You can order the book direct from the publishers, or from Amazon.co.uk. The book's full contents is as follows:

Foreword by Tracey Childs
Immortal Monster by Sam Stone
The Widow and the Deserter by Alex Barrett
Sleeping Lions by Niall Boyce
Orbyting by Jan Edwards
The Noise from the Flat Upstairs by S.E. Branson
Tower Song by Richard Howard
Deadline by Paul W.T. Ballard
The Attic Nursery by Raven Dane
Chillers and Breathers by Sam Stone
We Attract that which we Fear the Most by Louise Jameson
Last Rites by Simon Guerrier

Truth versus Reality

2012-01-04T23:27:00.001Z

A recent conversation with a work colleague reminded me of a blog post that I'd half started writing in the first half of last year. Around that time I was working my way through Patrick Rumble and Bart Testa's book Pier Paolo Pasolini: Contemporary Perspectives. There's an excellent essay in it by David Ward called A Genial Analytic Mind: 'Film' and 'Cinema' in Pier Paolo Pasolini's Film Theory, in which Ward discusses Pasolini's ideas of 'the tape-recorder' and 'the mirror'. Essentially, in Pasolini's usage, 'tape-recorder' refers to 'a realism that limits itself to recording the events of reality', while 'mirror' refers to 'a qualitatively different engagement with reality that aims at intensifying our perception of its essence' (the quotes are from Ward, pp131-132).

The reason why I was so taken with Pasolini's ideas is that they are consistent with my own approach to filmmaking. More specifically, Pasolini's terms could be used almost interchangeably with what I have often referred to as 'reality' and 'truth', though I suspect I've never elucidated my ideas quite as eloquently as Pasolini. This might have something to do with my over-reliance on quasi-religious terminology, such as the word 'soul', which, though I use it in a secular and somewhat symbolic way, can never quite be shaken free from its Christian connotations. But perhaps, with reference to Pasolini, I can help explain what I really mean when I use these terms.

Much of cinema today is concerned with 'realism' – whatever that may be. At best a slippery term, let's assume, for our purposes here, that by 'realism' we mean the recreation (or the recording) of the concrete world around us; or, to borrow from Ward, the production of a 'literal translation', a 'double of reality'. So far, so good.

But so what?

What can an out and out recreation of life tell us about...well, life?

For Pasolini, such an aesthetic provides only a hollow 'replica of things, one in which essence, here identified as mystery, gets lost or misrepresented' (p132).

The implication, then, is that while the use of the 'tape-recorder', or 'reality', may please the anorak brigade, it's never going to equate to anything of substance or help us explore an existential conundrum. Furthermore, it's never going to amount to a completely satisfactory artistic whole for, as Carl Th. Dreyer has said, 'realism in itself is not art' (see p184, Dreyer in Double Reflection).

Dreyer, it's worth noting, has also spoken of the 'reality'/'truth' dichotomy in expressing his idea of 'psychological realism'. As Acquarello puts it, Dreyer saw cinema 'not as a medium for capturing absolute reality, but as a means of articulating perceived reality' and in his work does 'not seek to document reality, but to capture the ephemeral essence of its underlying truth'.

It is precisely this 'ephemeral essence' that I mean when I say 'truth', and that Pasolini believes is lost through the 'tape-recorder' aesthetic, as outlined above. It is also precisely this term that I have always struggled to explain in a fully understandable, tangible way. Perhaps this is because it is, by definition, something intangible (even Dreyer reverts to religious terminology to describe it: 'It is not the things in reality that the director should be interested in but, rather, the spirit in and behind the things' p184, Dreyer in Double Reflection).

But whatever this 'essence' ultimately is, or however we label it ('truth', 'mirror', 'psychological realism'), it is surely this which gives substance to our work, and allows it to go beyond mere representation. Pasolini, for example, believed his 'mirror' was able to reflect life back to us in a way which revealed 'expressive qualities that we otherwise might have missed' (p132, Contemporary Perspectives).

The divergent ways in which Dreyer and Pasolini achieved their goals (Dreyer through an aesthetic of 'simplification and abbreviation', Pasolini through one of enhancement and 'intensification of perception') prove that there is no one route to reach the 'truth', but I believe their arguments against 'reality' are enough to send us all in search of it.

My Top Films of 2011

2012-01-01T22:08:00.001Z

As always, I thought I'd wait until early January to post up my films of the year but, as with last year, my list has already appeared elsewhere: this year on Cinetalk, here. The Cinetalk version of the list contains comments on all the films, so if you're interested in my reasons for choosing this particular batch of films I suggest you stop by there and take a look. What you won't find there, however, is my list of The Best Films from Previous Years that I Saw for the First Time in 2011, which I've included below.

I have to say, 2011 has been an incredibly strong viewing year for me, and many of the films below have excited me a great deal (and also make me realise how right I was when bemoaning the weakness of 2010 around this time last year). As strong as it was, though, there were, of course, many films that I missed. It's very possible that Jan Svankmajer's Surviving Life, the Dardenne Brother's The Kid with a Bike and Alexander Payne's The Descendants would all be included here if I'd managed to catch them. Luckily, the last two are only getting their official UK releases in 2012, so perhaps they'll be included here next year.

On a related note: seeing as it's topped so many end of year lists, I feel that I should mention that I have seen The Tree of Life, it just didn't chart (it was my 30th favourite film of the year, if anyone's interested).

Anyway, without any further ado, here are my lists. All director names link to their IMDb profiles while, where applicable, titles link to reviews I've written on the films (not including my comments on Cinetalk, which you can find here).

My Top Films of 2011

01) The Turin Horse (dir. Béla Tarr)

02) Blue Valentine (dir. Derek Cianfrance)

03) The Ides of March (dir. George Clooney)

04) The Artist (dir. Michel Hazanavicius)

05) Biutiful (dir. Alejandro González Iñárritu)

06) Meek's Cutoff (dir. Kelly Reichardt)

07) Concrete Walls (dir. Michael Higgins)

08) We Need to Talk About Kevin (dir. Lynne Ramsay)

09) Le Quattro Volte (dir. Michelangelo Frammartino)

10) Hugo (dir. Martin Scorsese)

Bubbling under: Cold Weather (dir. Aaron Katz), Wild Bill (dir. Dexter Fletcher), Weekend (Andrew Haigh), Two Years at Sea (dir. Ben Rivers).

Special mention: Correspondence: Jonas Mekas –JL Guerin, for having one of the most powerful sequences of the year, even if it didn't quite satisfy as a whole.

The Best Films from Previous Years that I Saw for the First Time in 2011

01) A City of Sadness (1989, dir. Hsiao-hsien Hou)

02) Cría cuervos (1976, dir. Carlos Saura)

03) Les Enfants du Paradis (1945, dir. Marcel Carné)

04) Die Gezeichneten (1922, dir.Carl Theodor Dreyer)

05) A Cottage on Dartmoor (1929,dir. Anthony Asquith)

06) The Old and the New (1929, dir. Sergei Eisenstein)

07) Our Mother's House (1967, dir. Jack Clayton)

08) A Brighter Summer Day (1991, dir. Edward Yang)

09) Mysterious Object at Noon (2000, dir. Apichatpong Weerasethakul)

10) Passion (1988, dir. György Fehér)

Bubbling under: The Cranes Are Flying (1957, dir. Mikhail Kalatozov), The Burning Plain (2008, dir. Guillermo Arriaga), The Machine that Kills Bad People (1952, dir. Roberto Rossellini), The Edge of the World (1937, dir. Michael Powell).

The Microbudget Conversation

2011-12-04T13:25:00.001Z

Earlier this week, a piece Iwrote for Filmmaker Magazine's Microbudget Conversation was published (http://www.filmmakermagazine.com/news/2011/11/the-microbudget-conversation-form-and-content/).Taking my cue from the use of the word 'conversation' in the series' title, Idecided to base my piece on my personal responses to some of the other posts. Thisled me into a discussion of some of the ideas behind the making of Life Just Is, my belief in theimportance of striving for a synthesis of form and content, and the advantages Ibelieve are offered by working from a finished screenplay.

Quote for the Week

2011-11-26T13:05:00.001Z

'A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not only be read but actually breathed from all human lips;–not to be represented on canvas or marble only, but be carved out of the breath of life itself' - Henry David Thoreau in Walden.

London Film Festival 2011: A Short Round Up

2011-11-06T14:10:00.000Z

For a number of reasons, I only got the chance to see 25 films at this year's LFF. That small sample, though, was enough for me to realise what a strong programme it was this year (and general consensus among friends seems to suggest I'm not alone in thinking this). A fitting send off, then, for Artistic Director Sandra Hebron, who's done such a brilliant job at the helm over the last nine years.

Among the films I was disappointed to miss were The Kid with a Bike and The Descendants – two new works from directors I admire very much. Of the films I did see, I thought that this year, rather than reviewing them all, I'd do a simple round up of some of my personal favourites. Despite falling into this category, I've excluded The Artist because I've already written about it here.

Starting close to home, there were four films on show which proved the diversity and talent currently on offer in British cinema: Two Years At Sea, Wild Bill, We Need to Talk About Kevin, and Weekend. Perhaps of them all, Will Bill was the biggest surprise for me: council estate crime films are not necessarily a favourite genre of mine. And yet there's something incredibly compelling about Dexter Fletcher's tale of a father reconnecting with his children after being released from prison. The guns and the drugs may be there for those who want them, but at its heart the film is a family drama – and a very good one at that. Making his directorial debut after over 35 years as an actor, Fletcher bringers a visual panache to the proceedings, while also drawing pitch-perfect performances from his outstanding cast.

Wild Bill

Despite being a wildly different film, similar accolades can also be levelled at Lynne Ramsay, whose We Need to Talk About Kevin is also a drama about a parent-child relationship. Beginning with flawless poetic flourishes, I did think the film flat-lined slightly in its middle section, before building to its shattering dénouement. The film went on to win best film at the festival, and although it may not have been the perfect piece I was hoping for, it certainly doesn't feel like an unjustified award given that the film offers further proof of Ramsay's singular directorial vision and confirms her status as one of Britain's most interesting directors. Special mention must also surely be made of its superb sound design.

Poetry of a different kind was also on offer in Ben River's Two Years At Sea, in which a long-take aesthetic builds to sublime moments. Hypnotic though it is right from the off (thanks in no small part to its beautiful black and white photography), it's true that the film's minimalism perhaps works against it amounting to any true sense of profundity. But in its careful observation of man and nature the film does provide a glimpse into the true nature of man.

Two Years At Sea

Andrew Haigh's Weekend, meanwhile, arrived at the festival with a lot of buzz, due in no small part to the fact that it scooped the audience award earlier this year at SXSW. It's not hard to see why. In its story of a one night stand developing into something more in the day(s) that follow, it recalls the former SXSW hit Medicine for Melancholy, though here the focus is on being gay in modern Britain (Nottingham to be exact) rather than being black in modern America (San Francisco). Like Medicine for Melancholy, Weekend is charming, tender and touching, and manages to explore wider social issues cohesively through the relationship of its central characters.

Elsewhere in the festival were new films from José Luis Guerín, George Clooney and Richard Linkater, all of whom regular readers may recognise as being personal favourites of mine. Early reports about Linklater's latest, Bernie, had me worried, but thankfully these worries proved to be unfounded. In its weaving of fact and fiction, interviews and dramatic reconstruction, to tell the story of murderer Bernie Tiede (a career-best from Jack Black), the film manages both a formal and a moral complexity among its deceptively simple and humorous exterior. Clooney's The Ides of March likewise exceeded my expectations. Ever since From Dusk Till Dawn Clooney has been, for me, one of the most enjoyable actors to watch on screen, but as early as his directorial debut, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, he showed an equally-great confidence on the other side of the lens. This confidence turned into perfection with Good Night, and Good Luck., but the seeming misstep of Leatherheads and the reviews out of Venice seemed to suggest Ides wouldn't match his earlier foray into the political landscape of America. And perhaps it doesn't. But its tightly woven drama still made it one of the most engrossing, complete and satisfactory pieces I saw at the festival.

Correspondence: Jonas Mekas – JL Guerín

I wish the same could be said for the whole of Correspondence: Jonas Mekas – JL Guerín, but unfortunately it's only half true. A serious of video letters between the two eponymous directors, Correspondence shows Guerín to be the true poet of cinema I suspected him to be, but Mekas' sections remain intermittently interesting at best, much like his Sleepless Night Stories, also screening at the festival. Perhaps seeing Correspondence so close to Sleepless Night Stories simply made for Mekas overkill, but it was certainly true that whenever his sections came on I was wishing for a return to Guerín's perfectly crafted images. Still, there are moments within Mekas' material which border on brilliance, but nothing in them comes close to Guerín's scene near the end with some struggling ants, which is undoubtedly among the most beautiful and exciting thing I've seen in a cinema all year.

Over in the archive section was another film from a favourite director: Roberto Rossellini's The Machine that Kills Bad People. An atypical foray into comedic fantasy, the film tells the story of a photographer whose camera kills the subjects of his photographs when the images are re-photographed. While it may not be as great as the masterpieces which surround it in Rossellini's oeuvre (coming as it does between Francesco, giullare di Dio and Europa '51), it certainly doesn't deserve to be as little seen as it is: most of the comedy hits home and the film raises plenty of moral and philosophical questions to churn over. The screening was preceded by a restored colour print of A Trip to the Moon, which, as visually striking as it is, remains, for me, a tad too long to sustain interest. Méliès was both a great innovator and a great filmmaker – I'm just still not convinced A Trip to the Moon is actually his greatest achievement.

The Machine That Kills Bad People

Two films which I feel deserve a special mention here, even if they didn't totally work for me, are Martha Marcy May Marlene and the much-lauded Miss Bala. Martha Marcy was superbly crafted and among the best directed films I saw at the festival, but although the narrative drew me in and pulled me along, I wasn't as taken with it as I was with the technical aspects of the film. Miss Bala, meanwhile, proved to be a little too oblique for its own good: I couldn't quite decide if it was genuinely complex or just a bit of a mess. Neither the story nor the character motivations were ultimately very clear. However, the film was definitely an interesting exercise in restricted point of view, while the long takes and constant shots from behind the protagonist's head were reminiscent of a computer game, thereby implicating the viewer in the film's events in a very clever way.

Silver Bullets

Also something of a mess, albeit this time all the more interesting for it, was Joe Swanberg's Silver Bullets. Those who have been following Swanberg's career will no doubt have certain expectations of his work, but Silver Bullets is something else entirely. Two and a half years in the making, it moves away from low-fi 'naturalism' of Hannah Takes the Stairs et al, in favour of something more along the lines of an expressionist tapestry. There are elements of horror, but if anything it feels more like a return to the experimental mode of filmmaking found in Kissing on the Mouth and LOL, Swanberg's first two features. Whether the film truly works is something which, if I'm honest, is up for debate: the music is too overbearing and there's a slight lack of overall cohesion which may well be the result of the film's torturous production process. But while it may not be Swanberg's most successful film in some respects, I can't help but feel that it may well be his most engrossing, fascinating, original and rich. As I've discussed previously, I think of Swanberg as an 'ideas based' filmmaker, and I think the ideas found in Silver Bullets are among his most interesting yet: there seems to be a genuine probing of the filmmaking process, and an almost-scathing, self-depreciating look at his own approach to it (it seems, at times, like the film is picking up on the autobiographical elements of Alexander the Last and peeling back the layers of metaphor to revel in an even more revealing attempt at self-understanding). I would say that it would be interesting to see where Swanberg goes from here, but since completing the film Swanberg has already completed a further four films. One of these, Uncle Kent, screened back-to-back with Silver Bullets at LFF. It was a charming and endearing film, if a little slender when viewed against the weight of Silver Bullets. If he continues at this rate of output, keeping up with his films may prove something of a challenge, but on the strength of the two on show here, it'll definitely be a challenge worth taking on.

A Blog Posts About Blog Posts...

2011-11-02T23:16:00.000Z

Overthe last few days I've written and filmed a few blog posts for other places, sothought it might be worth doing quick round up here...

Firstup, here'sa piece I wrote on what I learnt about the art of screenwriting from therecent BAFTA and BFI Screenwriters' Lecture Series, while here'sa piece on the cancellation of the 2012 Birds Eye Film Festival.

Next,here's a Vlog of a short talk I wrote ontransmedia. A text version of the Vlog can be found here,and I've also embedded the video below.

Finally,there's also a new Life Just IsPostproduction Vlog, which you can watch here.

The Artist (LFF 2011)

2011-10-21T11:25:00.009+01:00

Anyone who's ever spent even a tiny bit of time reading this blog will know that I'm more than a little partial to cinema from the silent era. So it's only natural that I'd get a little bit excited when buzz started emanating from Cannes earlier this year about a silent film. Even more tantalising, though, was the fact that this buzz was not focused around a film from before the invention of the talkies, but the world premiere of a brand-new film: The Artist, directed by Michel Hazanavicius. To some, the idea of a modern-day silent might seem like madness, but as someone who still believes that many of the most interesting, imaginative and exciting films predate the 1930s, I started to wonder if this could be the rebirth of a glorious, and unfortunately all-but-lost, form of filmmaking. The fact that it's not the only silent film made in the last year supports this hope.

So, naturally, when the film received its UK premiere at the London Film Festival earlier this week I jumped at the chance to see it. I'd been worried that the film's subject and setting – it's the story of a silent film actor chewed up and spat out by the invention of the talkies – might prevent the film from ever rising above the level of parody, and it's true there's a definite element of this. The film also never lets you forget that it's a silent work in a sound age, with repeated intertitle jokes about 'not talking' ultimately proving a little too knowing for the film's own good. But these minor grumbles aside, the thing that struck me about the film is just how well it will play to a number of different audiences...Serious film fans will love it by default (or, at the least, the idea of it) while more general film fans will revel in its gorgeous visuals, its light-hearted humour, its warming romance and its superb performances. For all its supposed-boldness, it's an incredibly accessible film destined to no-doubt win over any viewer willing to give it a chance. Yes, it's far from perfect and at time strays a little close to cliché and sentimentality, but it's also a damn good ride by any standards, and the fact that it's silent only serves to make it all the more loveable.

Whether it will have the desired effect of opening the floodgates for more modern-day silents remains to be seen. The fact that it plays so well will encourage good word of mouth and (hopefully) a good box-office will follow. However, its subject matter and continued flirtation with knowing parody means that it's impossible to take it too seriously as a precedent for how further modern-day silents would fare. It's also true that, as perfectly crafted as it is, the filmmaking never enters truly exciting territory (compare, for instance, the cinema-going scenes here with the one found in Anthony Asquith's A Cottage on Dartmoor).

Still, whatever its ultimate impact on the world of film, The Artist remains one of 2011s most enjoyable and interesting films so far. Let's hope it finds the success it deserves.

London Film Festival Previews

2011-09-12T16:47:00.000+01:00

Well, it's that time of year again: one month today the 55th BFI London Film Festival begins. I'm not sure how much of the festival I'll be able to do this year due to other commitments, but I have written two previews of what looks like an excellent programme. The first was for Film Pilgrim, and can be found here. The second was for the SFFL blog, and can be found here. Based on the lineup, I'm sure it'll be a great festival, and a fitting send-off for departing artistic director Sandra Hebron.

Quote for the Week

2011-08-28T18:33:00.002+01:00

'Can anything be more idiotic than certain people who boast of their foresight? They keep themselves officiously preoccupied in order to improve their lives: they spend their lives in organising their lives. They direct their purposes with an eye to a distant future. But putting things off is the biggest waste of life: it snatches each day as it comes, and denies us the present by promising the future. The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today. You are arranging what lies in Fortune's control and abandoning what lies in yours. What are you looking at? To what goal are you straining? The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately' - Seneca, On the Shortness of Life, page 13 of the Penguin Great Ideas edition (trans. C.D.N. Costa).

Quote for the Week

2011-08-09T10:32:00.001+01:00

'Conceived as a partner piece to the David, Bandinelli's Hercules and Cacus (1534) was designed as a personal emblem of Cosimo I and a symbol of Florentine fortitude. Benvenuto Cellini described the musclebound figure as looking like "a sackful of melons", and it's a sobering thought that the marble might well have ended up as something more inspiring. In the late 1520s...Michelangelo offered to carve a monumental figure of Samson to celebrate the Republic's latest victory over tyranny; other demands on the artists time put paid to this project, and the stone passed to Bandinelli, who duly vented his mediocrity on it' – The Rough Guide to Tuscany & Umbria, page 88.

Alas, poor YORICK!

2011-07-26T09:30:00.002+01:00

Quote for the Week

2011-07-16T20:43:00.000+01:00

'Today's almost hysterical, show-you-everything, keep-the-camera-moving, handheld, cutting-every-second style deprives the viewer of our trust in them' - Todd Haynes, quoted in All That the Miniseries Allows by Isable Stevens in Sight & Sound August 2011.

Student Film Festival London / Dominic Allan Interview

2011-07-16T11:02:00.003+01:00

Alongside working on the postproduction of Life Just Is and shooting a music video for the Ginger Wildheart Mutation project, I have also recently started working as a programmer at Student Film Festival London. Last week, as part of my work there, I did an interview with Dominic Allan, director of Calvet (which I reviewed here). The interview, conducted over Skype, has become my first podcast. You can download it from the SFFL blog, here, or listen to it on MUBI, here.

Edinburgh International Film Festival 2011

2011-07-03T10:03:00.002+01:00

Last month marked my third annual trip to the Edinburgh International Film Festival. As with 2010, I was on a press pass this year, once more backed by MarBelle over at Directors Notes. All my coverage is now online, so here are links to the pieces I wrote on this year's festival (listed in order of publication date):

EIFF2011: All Change
EIFF2011: Quality Control
EIFF2011: Artist Documentaries
EIFF2011: Mourning for Anna
EIFF2011: The Bang Bang Club
EIFF2011: The Turin Horse
EIFF2011: Mysterious Object at Noon
EIFF2011: The Last Circus
EIFF2011: Albatross
EIFF2011: The Passion of Béla Tarr
EIFF2011: Final Thoughts

Quote for the Week

2011-06-25T09:52:00.001+01:00

A notice posted on the box office of the Avon Theater in Stamford, CT.
(via eugonline).

Quote for the Week

2011-06-15T12:58:00.002+01:00

'No, that would be a shocking waste of an opportunity' – Sergei Eisenstein to Thorold Dickinson, in response to Dickinson asking Eisenstein if he ever edited in such a way as to make the cut 'invisible'.

The Anxiety of Identity

2011-04-28T10:03:00.001+01:00

A few weeks ago a friend and fellow film-lover turned 44. To celebrate the occasion he arranged a little shindig, which I duly attended. As so often happens when film-obsessives get together, the conversation soon turned to what we'd been watching recently. I explained that since the start of the year I've been slowly working my way through the history of British cinema, starting in the late 1890's (I'm currently slowly approaching the 1950's). As a British filmmaker, I explained, I can't help but feel it necessary to have an understanding of British cinema – for, whether I like it or not, this is presumably one of the main contexts in which my films will be judged (although I think my reason for wanting to watch these films does go beyond this...call it an interest in gaining a better understanding of my own national filmic identity, perhaps? I mean, it can't really all just be kitchen sink dramas, romantic comedies and stuffy period pieces can it?).

After I'd finished saying all this, a friend of my friend asked me some interesting questions, such as: 'Will your films really be judged in that context?' and 'Even if they are, is it really necessary for you, as the filmmaker, the artist, to understand that context anyway?'.

For me, the first question was easy to answer: yes, it's inevitable. Films are nearly always judged in the context of their national cinema, albeit, of course, amongst other contexts too, such as, say, genre (a notion I'll return to in a minute). The second question, though, was more complicated.

I suppose, in a way, it opens up wider questions about authorship and audience reception, such as the clash between auteur theory and the poststructuralist murdering of the author (for if a text is rendered authorless then the author's knowledge of context surely becomes irrelevant), but the question also reminded me of a conversation I had with another filmmaker a few years ago. Unlike me, this filmmaker wasn't particularly passionate about cinema. In fact, he told me he didn't really watch films. Whether out of embarrassment or genuine belief I don't know, but the reason he gave me was that he didn't want to become 'contaminated': by not being influenced by other filmmakers, he claimed, it would be easier for him to hit upon something original in his own work.

I've written on here before about the anxiety of influence and the impossibility of being original, so perhaps, in his own way, he's on to something. But I can't help but feel that if you don't know what's already been done you also don't know what hasn't already been done: so surely it's just as hard to be original? And besides, a love of cinema history hasn't exactly done Scorsese's work or career any harm, has it?

But back to the point. Earlier on I mentioned genre, which might be a useful context to examine here. By definition, genre films work by playing up to – or, on occasion, subverting – a familiar set of tropes. When films do this well they are often bold new takes on the familiar, when they fail they are often formulaic and cliché-ridden. The point, though, is that, more-or-less, the audience knows what they're getting: a comedy will make them laugh, a horror will frighten them, etc. In order to make a genre film, therefore, surely you have to understand the genre, the context, in which your film will be judged? And surely this understanding requires a knowledge of previous works in (previous entries into) that genre?

Although national identity may not be as strong a set of codes as genre, it does none-the-less still come with its own set of expectations (see, for instance, the joke I made at the start of this post about 'kitchen sink dramas, romantic comedies and stuffy period pieces', which, of course, references standard conceptions of what British cinema is supposed to be).

I'm still not sure that I've come up with a satisfactory answer to that second question, so unfortunately I can't end this post with a concrete argument. But I suppose the point that I'm trying to make is that, like genre filmmakers, national filmmakers surely need to know the context in which their films are made so that, whether they conform or subvert (consciously or unconsciously) their national traditions, they can none-the-less at least understand how the film will be perceived by audiences...and surely that is the responsibility of all filmmakers, regardless of nationality or artistic ambition?

Quote for the Week

2011-03-31T21:01:00.000+01:00

'It's the margin that holds the book together' – Jean-Luc Godard to Agnès Varda, as quoted in Sight & Sound, April 2011, page 10.

The Turin Horse

2011-02-17T23:02:00.003Z

Back in December 2008, I posted a blog inspired by the 'sublime' trailer for Béla Tarr's The Man from London. Well, the Hungarian maestro has done it again: it's been a long time since I've been as excited by a trailer as I am by the trailer of his new film, The Turin Horse, embedded below. I suspect a lot of people will scoff, but I honestly think this is brilliant. Early reports out of Berlin, where the film has just premiered, suggest it's excellent, if extremely bleak. I've stated before on this blog that I consider Tarr to be the greatest living filmmaker, and, hyperbole aside, it does seem that he's in a league of his own... I'm not exaggerating when I say I literally can't wait to see this. If I'd taken in that it was screening in Berlin a little earlier I may well have flown out especially. Let's just hope it hits the UK soon.

Quote for the Week

2011-01-26T18:33:00.000Z

'"Theatre is based on the assumption of its own falsity...and through that falsity you can express truth. In cinema, the raw materials are always fragments of reality. Whether you shot a person, a stone or a tree, it has a real material existence in the world. But cinema also enables you to make the audience aware of hidden spiritual energy in the material things that you shoot"'. Eugène Green, quoted in Spirit level by Mar Diestro-Dópido in Sight & Sound February 2011.

My Top Films of 2010

2011-01-03T16:04:00.009Z

Just over a week ago Directors Notes published my Top Ten Films of 2010. As in previous years, however, I decided to wait until 2010 was well and truly over before posting my list here. Since the DN list was published I've been able to catch up on some of the much-loved films from 2010, so I'm glad I waited...even if only one of them penetrated my top ten (it really does appear to have been a year of overrated, mediocre work – and certainly a much weaker year than either 2008 or 2009, at least judging by what I've seen: even with my last-minute catch up there were still a number of films I didn't get to see which I wish I had, including I Know You Know, City of Life and Death, The Social Network, Carlos and The Arbor). As well as containing my original top ten list, the DN piece also includes my comments on nine of the ten films I've included in my 2010 list below, so swing by and check it out.

As with last year, I have also included a list of 'The Best Films from Previous Years that I Saw for the First Time in 2010'. This time round I decided to limit myself to one film per director, so in a way Mamma Roma also stands for Oedipus Rex, and The Circus also stands for The Kid. I should also point out that I've included Metropolis as I'm considering the restoration a new film in its own right - hence it can take the number one spot even though I've seen previous versions of the film before. Maybe this is cheating, but it's my blog with my rules so I don't care...

Where applicable titles link to pieces I've written on the films, while all director names link to their IMDb profiles.

My Top Films of 2010

01) The Days of Desire (dir. József Pacskovszki)
02) If I Want to Whistle, I Whistle (dir. Florin Şerban)
03) Lion's Den (dir. Pablo Trapero)
04) My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done (dir. Werner Herzog)
05) Agora (dir. Alejandro Amenábar)
06) Shutter Island (dir. Martin Scorsese)
07) Kick-Ass (dir. Matthew Vaughn)
08) The Island (dir. Pavel Lungin)
09) Cameraman: The Life and Work of Jack Cardiff (dir. Craig McCall)
10) Undertow (dir. Javier Fuentes-León)

Special mention: Revolución. Even though the majority of this portmanteau film failed to impress, it gave Fernando Eimbcke the chance to once again prove himself as one of the world's best young directors.

The Best Films from Previous Years that I Saw for the First Time in 2010

01) Metropolis (1927, dir. Fritz Lang)
02) Mamma Roma (1962, dir. Pier Paolo Pasolini)
03) The Leopard (1963, dir. Luchino Visconti)
04) The Beekeeper (1986, dir. Theodoros Angelopoulos)
05) The Seashell and the Clergyman (1928, dir. Germaine Dulac)
06) The Bride of Glomdal (1926, dir. Carl Th. Dreyer)
07) The Circus (1928, dir. Charles Chaplin)
08) A Man Escaped (1956, dir. Robert Bresson)
09) Private Road (1971, dir. Barney Platts-Mills)
10) The Fabulous World of Jules Verne (1958, dir. Karel Zeman)

Special mention: Bridge to Terabithia (2007, Gabor Csupo), for being a kid's film with enough intelligence and emotional pull to outshine most 'grownup' fantasy dramas being made these days.

Quote for the Week

2010-12-31T14:43:00.000Z

We struggle to attain the unattainable – that is what separates man from beasts.

- Nikos Kazantzakis, The Fratricides

The Fabulous World of Jules Verne

2010-12-23T10:32:00.000Z

The new issue of Experimental Conversations was published yesterday. It features my review of The Fabulous World of Jules Verne. You can read it here: http://www.experimentalconversations.com/reviews/532/the-fabulous-world-of-jules-verne/

A Weekend at the Movies

2010-12-05T22:47:00.007Z

One thing that no one tells you about directing your first feature (or at least, one thing that no one told me) is that it will destroy your ability to enjoy watching films. For the last month, whenever I've tried to watch films I've done nothing but think about things like headroom, continuity of lighting, and whether the focus is sharp. As a result of this I've hardly been watching anything. However, on Friday, two films that I've been wanting to see for a while played back-to-back at the Watermans, so I thought I'd take the risk and head down. Luckily, I think I'm finally over my issues and I might actually be able to enjoy films again...though unfortunately neither film on my Friday double-bill quite proved this for me.

The first was Hammad Khan's Slackistan, a film which I really wanted to love. I've been following the production since I saw a post on Shooting People seeking a sound recordist for the project. I think it was Khan's citation of The Duplass Brothers as an influence which made me interested: despite being set in Pakistan, Slackistan is an independent British film with a true indie spirit, a project which is definitely worth supporting. (Unfortunately, not many people seem to agree with this point...there was only one other person in the whole cinema. I've written on this topic before, so won't go into it again here, but come on people, really...). Regrettably, if I'm honest, I found the film rather flawed, but I'd still recommend it, if for no other reason than to support the spirit with which it was made.

The second film I saw was the current arthouse favourite (and Palme d'Or winner) Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. Although I found the film beautifully captivating, it was far from totally satisfying. Perhaps a second viewing will provide further levels of appreciation.

Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives

Although my trip to the Watermans didn't prove a totally satisfying experience, it was enough to give me back the film bug. So, on Saturday morning I braved the London snow and arrived at the Empire in Leicester Square bright and early for the Show Film First Online Opinion Formers Showcase. The day started with a batch of trailers for films coming out early next year, which I found a rather depressing experience... Based on this evidence, 2011 will not be a vintage year for (mainstream) film.

The two preview screenings of the day (only revealed once we were all seated) turned out to be The Next Three Days and TRON: Legacy. The first proved to be an engaging, tense thriller, if also something of a missed opportunity. Dealing with the life of John Brennan (Russell Crowe) after his wife (Elizabeth Banks) is sent to prison for murder, the film soon shifts gear from psychological portrait to a far less interesting man-with-a-plan crime drama. Dramatically it rattles along and, despite some dubious morality and nonsensical moments, it manages to engage the emotions to a successful degree...but it all just somehow feels rather shallow and forgettable. Which, when one thinks about it, makes perfect sense for a film directed by the man who brought us Crash...

It's fair to say that there also wasn't much intellectual depth to TRON: Legacy, but I doubt that that was ever the point. One part Wizard of Oz, one part Star Wars, one part Running Man, and two parts Jeff Bridges, the film never feels particularly original, but is never much less than good fun. I still don't buy into the whole 3D thing, but beyond that the film is visually impressive and emotionally involving, and sustains enjoyment throughout its runtime. It's not a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but it's a good, solid ride all the same.

Theorem

Thanks to the magic of DVD, I was able to round the weekend off with a viewing of Pasolini's Theorem... a film I'll need to think about more before commenting on properly, but which is certainly something altogether very different.

So, while I might not have seen anything which really blew me away this weekend, at least I have rediscovered the joy of watching films. I was getting worried for a while there.

Quote for the Week

2010-11-30T11:45:00.002Z

'"Do your best to sit through to the end," requested Mr [Woody] Allen before the show. "If you don't, I understand. I won't mind. I'll be on the plane back to New York." He paused before explaining: "I've seen it before, I know how it ends: low grosses". From Smell the concrete by Tom Charity in Sight & Sound November 2010.

Taking the Plunge

2010-11-19T09:53:00.000Z

I was recently asked by Marvin over at Directors Notes to write a piece about the experience of directing my first feature. You can find the finished result here: http://www.directorsnotes.com/2010/11/18/life-just-is-taking-the-plunge/.

Life Just Was

2010-11-12T15:31:00.003Z

It's been a crazy few weeks since my last post, but yes, Life Just Is has now wrapped! I've been blogging about it all at length elsewhere, so I won't go into details here, but I thought I would cross-post some of the 35mm photographs that I took on set, as it felt somewhat appropriate to include them on here too (those interested can see the full set at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=251446&id=74928943075). Enjoy.

Jack Gordon - 'Pete'.

Fiona Ryan - 'Claire'.

Nathaniel Martello-White - 'Tom'.

Will De Meo - 'David'.

Paul Nicholls - 'Bobby'.

Jayne Wisener - 'Jay'.

Niall Phillips - 'Ollie'.

Rachel Bright - 'Anna'

Andrew Hawley - 'Nick'.

Alix Wilton Regan - 'Zoe'.

Jason Croot - 'Walahfrid'.

Gillian Wisener - 'Beth'

Christine Hartland, Executive Producer

Alice Caronna, 1st AD

Niina Topp, Production Designer

Yosuke Kato, cinematographer, Alice Caronna, 1st AD and Tom Stuart, producer.

Alex Barrett, writer/director, as photographed by Jayne Wisener.

Tom Stuart, producer.

Well, it's finally here

2010-10-16T09:03:00.002+01:00

I'm aware that I've been totally neglecting this blog recently. I've not given up with it, I've just been working flat out on my debut feature, Life Just Is, which starts shooting on Monday. It's been a hectic few weeks, but everything has fallen into place. Our shooting schedule is tight so I'm sure I've got a rough few weeks ahead, but I have a great cast and crew on board and I'm very excited about it. We'll be posting regular updates throughout the shoot on our blog, YouTube Channel, and our Facebook and Twitter profiles, so please follow along. See you on the other side!

Quote for the Week

2010-09-04T14:51:00.001+01:00

Most men and women lead lives at worst so painful, at the best so monotonous, poor and limited that the urge to escape, the longing to transcend themselves if only for a few moments, is and always has been one of the principal appetites of the soul.

- Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception

Metropolis

2010-08-27T18:06:00.004+01:00

Last night I attended the UK premiere of the new print of Fritz Lang's Metropolis. The last time I saw the film must have been something like ten years ago, and I have to confess that it didn't do much for me at the time. But last night all of my doubts were blown away. Sure, the ending is still sentimentally simplistic, but it's impossible not to be swept away by the sheer scale and ambition of it all. Even by today's standards it's impressive, but considering it comes from 1927 it's nothing short of monumental. But it's not only the baroque excess that impresses. It's everything. The scene where Rotwang chases Maria around the catacombs by flashlight struck me as especially effective, a masterpiece of tension. Seeing the film with the new footage, one wonders how the film ever worked without it. Perhaps it didn't (it would explain my lukewarm the first time I saw it). But whatever the case, it certainly works now. So whether you've seen Metropolis before or not, if you haven't yet seen the new restoration, well, you haven't yet seen Metropolis. And boy, are you missing out!

On the Trail of Tarkovsky

2010-08-04T10:13:00.004+01:00

As I mentioned in my last post, I spent the last two weeks of July on holiday in Umbria. A two-week summer trip to Italy has been something of a family tradition for many years now, with 2010 marking our 14th trip.

In 2008 we stayed in a villa near Siena, and decided to take a trip back to Bagno Vignoni, the spa town where Tarkovsky shot parts of Nostalghia, including the ending. We'd been before, years ago, but this was the first trip since I'd discovered Tarkovsky.

Me in Bagno Vignoni, 2008.

This year, my Dad, who is also a huge Tarkovsky fan, decided that we should continue the Tarkovsky trail and go and visit the tiny town of Monterchi, in order to see Piero della Francesca's Madonna del Parto, the fresco from the opening sequence of Nostalghia. Much to my Dad's chagrin, I've always hated Piero's work, but due to the Tarkovsky connection I was, for once, happy to go along and see one of his works. At least I'd get to walk around the church where Tarkovsky shot, so I thought. But then my Dad told me that the fresco is no longer in the church where it originated, but is instead installed in a museum, detached from everything except a clinical white room. Sigh.

But Dad was still keen to go and see the original church, so the day was not yet lost.

Arriving in Monterchi, though, something didn't feel right. Nothing looked familiar. We asked about access to the original church, and were told it would be locked. Frustrated, I gazed upon the fresco and sighed. There was no mystical revelation: Piero's still crap, and I didn't even get to see a Tarkovsky landmark.

Returning to the villa at the end of the day, there was still something about what we'd seen in Monterchi that made me wonder if, somewhere, there had been a mistake. Was this really where Tarkovsky had been?

I hit Google and stumbled across this article by James Macgillivray. It seems my instinct was right. Apparently Tarkovsky used a replica of the fresco in Nostalghia, installed in a church some 120 kilometers from Monterchi! Who knew? (Well, James Macgillivray, obviously, but who else?).

So, a word to the wise for those seeking to follow the trail of Tarkovsky: avoid Monterchi. Tarkovsky did.

Piero della Francesca's Madonna del Parto

Quote for the Week

2010-08-02T11:16:00.003+01:00

This weekend I arrived back in London from a fantastic two week trip to Umbria. As is usual for my family holidays in Italy, we spent time reading and relaxing, but also visiting local towns and soaking in as much renaissance art as possible. Although I loved the two books I read while I was away (David Bordwell's Figures Traced in Light and Nikos Kazantzakis' Freedom and Death), I thought I'd go for a visual quote this week, celebrating some of my favourites from among the artworks we saw.

Lamentation over the Dead Christ by Luca Signorelli

Pala di Santa Maria de' Fossi (detail) by Pinturicchio

The Miracle of the Spring by Giotto

Saint Francis by Cimabue

The Annunciation by Fra Angelico

Quote for the Week

2010-07-05T16:47:00.001+01:00

But there being no Self and No Bars therefore the Zoo of your dear Father hath no Lion

- Allen Ginsberg, The Lion for Real

Edinburgh International Film Festival 2010

2010-06-28T17:02:00.002+01:00

This year's Edinburgh International Film Festival finished yesterday, and although I wasn't there for the closing weekend, I was lucky enough to be able to visit the festival for a few days earlier in its run. Unlike last year, I didn't have a film showing in the festival, but thanks to MarBelle over at Directors Notes I was able to get a press pass. All the coverage that I wrote for DN has now been posted on the site, so here are links to all the pieces, listed in order of publication. Enjoy.

EIFF2010: Return to Edinburgh
EIFF2010: And Everything Is Going Fine
EIFF2010: My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done?
EIFF2010: Vacation!
EIFF2010: The Days of Desire
EIFF2010: Undertow
EIFF2010: If I Want to Whistle, I Whistle
EIFF2010: Festival Roundup

Hamburg International Short Film Festival 2010

2010-06-12T12:14:00.007+01:00

The festival banner.

Earlier this week I returned from spending a fantastic few days in Germany, where I was lucky enough to attend the Hamburg International Short Film Festival with my short film Paintbrush: The Epitaph. After touching down at Hamburg airport in glorious sunshine, I was picked up by the festival chauffeur and taken directly to the apartment of my hosts Mathias and Isabel, who had kindly offered to put up a filmmaker during the festival (longstanding hosts for the festival, Mathias and Isabel went out of their way to make me feel at home and I am incredibly grateful for the generous hospitality that they showed me). The apartment was in the beautiful district of Altona, which was just a short walk from the festival centre. Home to the info-counter and its friendly workers, the festival centre also contained the infamous 35ml club, for which people from around the world bring along a bottle of their local drink. The final collection is then placed in the club for people to drink for free. Although, as a non-drinker, I perhaps wasn't able to appreciate the full benefits of this idea, it certainly seemed like everyone else was enjoying sampling the various tipples on offer (to say the least...).

The Rathaus in Altona.

The first screening of Paintbrush: The Epitaph took place just a few hours after I arrived, at the Lichtmess, a cinema with a lot of charm and the perfect venue for a late-night screening of NoBudget films. The film seemed to go down really well and my producer/co-writer Rahim and I were touched by the warm reception the film received.

My remaining time in Hamburg was spent in numerous screenings and partying into the early hours at the festival club (in general, it seems to me that Hamburg is something of a nocturnal festival, with fairly quiet days, packed evenings, and long nights). I also managed to sit in on an interesting panel discussion asking 'where is the parlour in virtual space?', and to explore some of the beautiful city. The quality of the shorts that I saw was extremely high, and this is especially true of the documentary work. While there were far too many standout films to go into detail here, a few of my favourites included The Zone, The Six Dollar Fifty Man, Kokon, Derby, L'Ultima Anguriera, Doris – In a Conflict Without Dialogue and Alitas, amongst many, many others.

Outside B-Moive before my second screening.

As well as a number of interesting cinemas with genuine character, such as the B-Movie, screenings also took place in the open air, on the top floor of a multi-storey car park overlooking the heart of the city. Complete with its own makeshift bar and BBQ, the Open Air screenings were definitey amongst the highlights and I hope that other festivals will follow suit in exploring alternative screening spaces.

The Open Air Screening. Photo by Stephen Fingleton.

The final award ceremony came complete with its own Eurovision style voiceover which had Rahim and me in stitches ('I'd love to know what Arsy-Versy means in English!'), and many well deserving films took home prizes. This is especially true of the superb documentary Holding Still, which scooped the Jury Award for best German film, and concluded the final screening before the closing party. The film's perfection was perhaps the most fitting end to an excellent festival I can think of.

The Obscure, the Forgotten, and the Unloved

2010-05-19T14:27:00.001+01:00

Towards the end of last year I took part in a poll, run by Iain Stott from The One-Line Review, to help find the best films from 'beyond the canon'. Now Iain has followed it up with The Obscure, the Forgotten, and the Unloved, described as 'a 2010 poll of committed cinephiles who hope to find, highlight, and promote films that have received a considerable amount of critical acclaim but have yet to find the audience that their evident quality deserves'. You can find a full explanation of the poll in its introduction, my personal list here, and the winners here.

A Phantom of Phantom

2010-05-15T14:51:00.003+01:00

For some reason, ever since I saw F.W. Murnau's Phantom back in January, I haven't been able to stop thinking about this image and the scene which it comes from. I guess that's the power of good filmmaking for you.

Quote for the Week

2010-05-09T09:09:00.007+01:00

You begin to realise he is using the lens like brushstrokes, it becomes like a moving painting. Not only moving visually, but emotionally and psychologically.

- Martin Scorsese talking about Jack Cardiff in Cameraman: The Life and Work of Jack Cardiff.

(If you get a chance to see this doc, make sure you take it).

Quote for the Week

2010-05-02T10:38:00.001+01:00

Let it be the feelings that bring about the events. Not the other way.

- Robert Bresson, Notes on the Cinematographer

Essential Experiments

2010-04-25T12:24:00.003+01:00

On April 15th the BFI inaugurated a new monthly strand 'dedicated to the history of experimental cinema'. Curated in partnership with Kingston University, the strand, entitled 'Essential Experiments', aims to 'trace the development of avant-garde cinema' through a carefully selected programme of screenings featuring introductions from a variety of guest speakers. The first film screened under the 'Essential Experiments' banner was Robert Wiene's 1919 classic, The Cabinet of Dr Caligari. As Elisabetta Fabrizi (BFI Head of Exhibitions) explains on the BFI website, the film was chosen for being one of the first masterpieces 'to go beyond cinema's straightforward realism' by 'taking inspiration from the visual arts'. Fabrizi is, of course, absolutely right in her praise of Caligari, which stands up as one of cinema's first great masterpieces. Its painted sets are perhaps still unsurpassed as the ultimate use of expressionist techniques in cinema (few other films have attempted such extreme outright stylisation, and fewer still have succeeded as well). However, as great a film as Caligari is, it's also a film which has – at least up to a point – been widely seen, meaning that it's the second film screened in the strand which really makes things exciting: namely, Germaine Dulac's The Seashell and the Clergyman.

Premiered a full year before the release of Buñuel and Dalí's Un chien andalou, The Seashell and the Clergyman is considered to be the first surrealist film (a somewhat ironic fact, given that a group of surrealists, led by André Breton himself, heckled the film at its 1928 premiere, bringing the projection to a swift halt). While the film might not, in my opinion, have quite the same visceral impact of its more famous cousin, it's an intoxicating watch all the same, and one which incorporates many of the traits which would become standard tenets of surrealist cinema (a juxtaposition of seemingly random images which attack rational understanding, a focus on sexual desire, events strung together with a dream-like, subconscious logic).

The film was written and storyboarded by the writer, poet, actor, theorist and theatre director Antonin Artaud. Artaud's theories of cinema called for a displacement and disruption of reality in favour of raw images torn away from traditional representation, thereby forcing the viewer's senses into a violent reaction: the idea was to reproduce in the viewer the impact of a dream. Perhaps confusingly, Artaud would later accuse Dulac of having stifled his vision by imposing a dream-like logic onto the film. Artaud's intention, therefore, was not to recreate a dream-like experience, but to create an experience which would reproduce the physical, neurological impact of a dream on its spectators.

Judged from this angle, Artaud was right to view the film as a failure. However, Artaud's theories are lofty and his dismissal too quick. Dulac's own theories of a 'pure' visual cinema free from the influence of other art forms and, more importantly, her belief that cinema should present and explore the inner lives of its characters, render the film an effective and arresting piece of interior cinema, bending and jumping its way along the contours of the human subconscious in proto-surrealist fashion.

Upon its release, the film was banned by the BBFC with the bizarre statement that 'The film is so cryptic as to be almost meaningless. If there is a meaning, it is doubtless objectionable'. What's even more bizarre, though, is that upon seeing the film it's hard not to agree with them! Ostensibly a tale of the Clergyman's love and sexual desire for 'the woman', the film deliberately resists narrative cohesion and a simple decoding of its symbolism (the fact that the film's reels were projected in the wrong order upon its American release without anyone noticing speaks volumes). And yet, it's impossible not to read the film as some kind anti-clerical gesture, a comment upon the underlying desires masked behind the veil of common Catholicism. The Clergyman is sinister, violent and lustful in his dogmatic pursuit of the Woman, and Artaud's other work (such as the radio play To Have Done with the Judgement of God) makes his anti-religious stance clear. However, it would be reductionist to place any one meaning on a film of this kind: other themes come crashing out – like those of identity and the anxiety of usurpation (for it is the Officer who hears the Woman's confession, not the Clergyman) – while its hallucinatory play with the grammar of filmmaking prioritises the act of subjective viewer experience.

Indeed, on a formal stylistic level the film can be seen as a prelude to Dulac's final abstract films, which avoid narrative in favour of stressing the art of movement, or, as she put it, 'visual music'. One of these films, Étude cinégraphique sur une arabesque, was screened along with The Seashell and proved itself to be a hypnotic, rhythmic exploration of movement, texture and pattern.

The print of The Seashell shown was from the 2004 restoration of the film, and it was screened without any musical accompaniment, as per Dulac's wishes. The screening was given an extended introduction by the filmmaker and historian Prosper Hillairet, in which he discussed the life and work of Dulac and Artaud, their troubled relationship, the context in which the film was made, and of course the film itself. He also screened the short documentary Uproar in the Ursulines, about the commotion caused by the surrealists at the film's premiere.

The Essential Experiments strand is set to continue with such films as Man with a Movie Camera and L'inhumaine, and promises to be an ongoing strand of two slots per month. Based on the strength of its opening films, it looks like the use of the word 'essential' in its title isn't an exaggeration.

Quote for the Week

2010-04-11T21:00:00.002+01:00

Does it matter?
It doesn't matter.

Freud on Film

2010-04-06T15:46:00.002+01:00

As someone who doesn't have a lot of time for Freudian psychology, I was unlikely to ever love a film described as 'The first openly 'Freudian' movie', but as someone who does have a lot of time for silent cinema I thought I'd see GW Pabst's Secrets of a Soul on the big screen while I had the chance (it was screening at the BFI Southbank as part of their 'Psycho in Context' season). Although, as expected, the film didn't overly excite me on a narrative level, it felt like a pretty impressive piece of cinema all the same.

Based on a real case history, the film, co-written by Pabst and two of Freud's assistants, tells the story of a chemistry professor – Martin Fellman – who develops a fear of sharp objects, before a chance encounter with a psychoanalyst leads him onto the couch.

The opening scenes unfold at an impressively measured pace, slowly unfolding the events which lead up to the film's centrepiece moment: the elaborate expressionist dream sequence. Utilising all manner of effects and tricks, the sequence serves as a strong example of the power of German expression to render character psychology on screen solely through visual means (stylised sets, double exposures, miniatures, distorted images, etc.).

Given the impressive imagery of the dream sequence, it's all the more disappointing when the film then plods along into a pretty pat psychoanalytical breakdown of its meaning. Piece-by-piece, Fellman and his analyst discuss the dream and soon enough Fellman is cured and feeling fine just in time for a trite, sentimental ending.

While Pabst's sturdy directorial hand ensures that the film is never without interest, unfortunately as a whole the piece never lives up to the promise of its exciting dream sequence: perhaps a hint that sometimes the unconscious is best left unexplained.

Quote for the Week

2010-04-03T16:42:00.000+01:00

'God created the world in week: the Cineteca di Bologna tried to make a DVD in about a month. If the former was somewhat faster, it was because he had no digitalization and no sound accompaniment to take care of, live music being provided by the birds and the waves'

– Mariann Lewinsky in her Introduction to the booklet of the DVD Cento anni fa Il cinema europeo del 1909 (which is an essential purchase for all fans of silent cinema).

Wood Green

2010-03-29T14:46:00.006+01:00

I've spent the last few days travelling backwards and forwards between here and the other side of London. Why? For the 8th Wood Green International Short Film Festival, which kindly selected my films Paintbrush: The Epitaph and Hungerford: Symphony of a London Bridge. This is my third consecutive year screening in the festival, and it's been interesting to see how the event has developed and grown during that time. From the increase in the quality of the shorts through to this year's introduction of Q&A sessions, the fest has evolved into something really worth paying attention to (no doubt due to the hard work and enthusiasm of current festival organiser David Waterson).

As the actor Adam Deacon rightly pointed out while hosting the award ceremony at Alexander Palace, people often have negative ideas about Wood Green, but the festival serves as a testament to the talent in and around the area. For instance, two of my favourite films from last year's Filmstock – Milk Man and Modern Life Is Rubbish – were screened in the local programme, while the Venice-selected GirlLikeMe took home the local award. Moreover, the impressive work on show from the Youth Film Day showed that there's a promising new generation on its way.

Of the work I saw from outside the borough, I particularly enjoyed Viliam and Stretching, while Photograph of Jesus was a fitting winner for the best UK short.

Quote for the Week

2010-03-18T12:13:00.003Z

'One doesn't paint souls. One paints bodies; and when the bodies are painted well, damn! The soul, if they had one, the soul shines forth and shows through from all sides'

- Paul Cézanne, Une visite au Louvre

Scorsese does Soderbergh

2010-03-14T17:20:00.003Z

After waiting out the months of delays, I finally got to see Shutter Island on Friday. I've made no secret on this blog of my love for Scorsese, so, understandably, my expectations were high. As is usual for a Scorsese film, Shutter Island evoked plenty a ghost of cinematic past. However, the film which it called to my mind most strongly was not one of the many films of the 40s and 50s to which it pays homage, but instead that other recent filmic metatext, The Good German: both films (very successfully) play out as attempts to pay tribute to, and reinvigorate, the films of the post-war period, both in style and content.

It is often said that Soderbergh is a polystylist whose clearest auteurist signature is his eclecticism. Although I don't think that's true (or indeed know if it's even possible to speak of such things in a post-Barthesean age), I do feel that somehow The Good German fits snugly into Soderbergh's oeuvre in a way which, upon initial viewing, I'm not sure if Shutter Island does into Scorsese's. As someone who has always argued in favour of Scorsese the filmmaker of staggering range, as opposed to Scorsese the filmmaker of gangster pictures, I'm not entirely sure what I mean by this – but it somehow felt like the typical Scorsesean exuberance was...lacking. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying for a second that it felt like Scorsese's touch was missing – it's far from absent – just that it felt a little more subdued than usual. Perhaps, and I think this is the point I'm trying to make, Scorsese did this deliberately, downplaying his own personality in favour of channelling the filmmakers of the past.

Lest this all seem a little negative, I should state that I enjoyed Shutter Island a lot. It's powerful, gripping, moving and intelligent. But there's still a part of me which can't but agree with Jonathan Romney's remark in his Sight & Sound review of the film that 'Even the most fascinated Scorsese followers may need more than one viewing to decide whether Shutter Island really works or is simply an experimental folly'. To return to the comparison with The Good German above, Romney's statement could well be applied to almost all of Soderbergh's films, and, as it happens, more often than not, his films really do work. So, for me, I guess the jury is still out on Shutter Island. But, if I'm honest, I can't wait to revisit it and find out my final verdict...

Quote for the Week

2010-03-10T11:08:00.010Z

Having at last completed my Dreyer 'season', it felt like there was only one possible way to follow up my last post: with the final words of My Only Great Passion:

'In early 1968, Dreyer fell and broke his hip. The recovery seemed to go well until, unexpectedly, he was stricken with pneumonia. On the morning of March 20th 1968, Carl Th. Dreyer died.
A few days later, Denmark's most celebrated motion picture director – and one of its most important artists in any medium – was buried in Frederiksberg Cemetery, in a simple ceremony attended by his family and many from the film industry who had known and worked with him. His small head stone simply says

Carl Theodor Dreyer 1889-1968

For a man of his stature, nothing more is needed'.

What Makes a Filmmaker Great?

2010-03-05T20:01:00.003Z

Here's a post that I've been meaning to write for a while, but only just got around to. Apologies to my regular readers for the lack of proper posts recently. Thanks for sticking around.

Last month, I finally finished reading My Only Great Passion: The Life and Films of Carl Th. Dreyer by Jean and Dale Drum, which I've been slowly reading as I study my way through Dreyer's complete oeuvre (and hence the recent Medea related posts). Along with my own obsession and admiration for his work, my Dreyer 'season' (if you will) is part of the reason for the continual referencing of his work on this blog, so some of you will probably be pleased to hear that it's coming to end (what next, I'm not quite sure, though I'm considering a potted history of British cinema). I feel like I've learnt an awful lot about filmmaking from studying Dreyer's films and theories, and of course the many books, essays and documentaries I've been taking in alongside the films. As those who know me well can testify, undertaking a study such as this is nothing new for me, and in 2006 I spent seven months trawling my way through the work of another of my favourite filmmakers: Stanley Kubrick.

One thing that struck me very early on when reading My Only Great Passion was how many similarities there were between Dreyer's life and personality, and Kubrick's (at least as described by Vincent LoBrutto's seminal biography). For instance:

• They both had an early interest in flying which they later lost.
• They both started in journalism.
• They both had an obsession for meticulous research.
• They both mainly worked on films adapted from pre-existing material.
• They were both very productive in the early years of their career, but ended up with long gaps between their final films.
• They both have reputations for being tyrannical on set – reputations disputed by those who actually worked with them.
• They were both said to have never shouted on set and have an exacting politeness which meant that they actually always got what they wanted.
• They were both perfectionists who wanted complete control.
• They both had long, stable marriages.

• They both had a great fondness for animals and pets.
• They are responsible for perhaps the two greatest unmade projects, which also happen to be about the two most written about people of all time: Napoleon (Kubrick) and Jesus (Dreyer).

Although a lot of this can be put down to coincidence, it does make me wonder if there's also something more to it. Perhaps, quite simply, some of the qualities listed above are the qualities that make filmmakers great.

Bafta Here I Come

2010-02-20T18:06:00.006Z

Tomorrow night I will be heading to the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden to attend this year's Orange British Academy Film Awards. No, I haven't been nominated for anything (unfortunately!), but I will be going along as a competition winner. To scoop the prize, contestants had to film themselves reviewing a film. Although I'm not particularly happy with my video, I thought I'd stick it up here as it does follow on nicely from my last Quote for the Week. Enjoy.

Quote for the Week

2010-02-07T12:58:00.003Z

Royal minds are different to ours, and dangerous.
Being used to giving orders rather than taking them,
They can become outraged – and that rage is slow to cool.
Ordinary life is much better – where everyone's equal.
I hope to grow old just as I am:
Lowly, unremarkable and safe.
Moderation is a lovely word and we should live by it;
it's good for our souls.
Excessiveness brings mortals no advantage. All it does
is draw more ruin on us when the gods are wild.

- Lines 119-130, Medea, Euripides

Experimental Conversations at LFF 2009

2010-01-30T10:44:00.002Z

A piece that I wrote last year on the Experimenta strand of the London Film Festival has been published in the new issue of the online journal Experimental Conversations. The direct link for the piece is http://www.experimentalconversations.com/reviews/484/london-film-festival-2009/.

Quote for the Week

2010-01-24T20:45:00.001Z

it is pointless searching in the depths of the opaque for an escape from the opaque

- Italo Calvino, From the Opaque

In Praise of Slow

2010-01-18T20:17:00.005Z

In the latest issue of Sight & Sound (Volume 20, Issue 2), Jonathan Romney 'examines the appeal' of so-called 'Slow Cinema'. In his piece In Search of Lost Time, Romney posits that the 'founding texts of current Slow Cinema' are seen by some as being Béla Tarr's seminal Sátántangó (1994) and Werckmeister Harmonies (2000, and my film of the last decade). Although I am never one to dispute any praise of Tarr (who is, in my opinion, the greatest living filmmaker), I believe that it's possible to see if not a 'founding' text then at least a forerunner of the current wave of Slow Cinema as early as the 1960s. I am, of course, talking about Carl Th. Dreyer's Gertrud. So many of the tenets that Romney describes for Slow Cinema began with, and were at the time heavily criticised in, Gertrud. For instance, when Romney writes 'poetic, contemplative – cinema that downplays event in favour of mood...[in which] you become acutely aware of every minute, every second spent watching', he could very well be talking about Gertrud, and when he states that these films 'make cinema akin to statuary', it is as if he is using language purposely designed for Gertrud.

I suppose my point in saying all this is not that Gertrud was the spark that lit the flame of Slow Cinema, but merely that Dreyer can once again be seen as being years ahead of his time (perhaps unsurprising for the finest artist the cinema has ever produced).

While I'm on the subject of Dreyer and Slow Cinema, I must admit to still being surprised by the amount of praise repeatedly being heaped on Carlos Reygadas' Silent Light, a film which I struggle to see as more than, at best, a mediocre art film, and at worst, an insult to Dreyer. Whereas Ordet spends almost two hours devoted to creating the atmosphere and tone necessary to make its miracle truly miraculous in every way, Reygadas simply transposes that film's ending with seemingly little understanding, and certainly without any power or effect. With Gerry, Gus Van Sant showed that it was possible to channel a master filmmaker (in that case Tarr) and still come up with an original, inspiring piece of work. But not so with Silent Light. It's not even the fact that Reygadas borrowed the ending of Ordet wholesale that I find so offensive: it's the fact that he made the ending so out of place and drained it of its power.

I was once told on good authority that, after Silent Light's premiere at Cannes, Reygadas denied even knowing what Ordet was (though I do have to admit I haven't verified this, trusting as I do the authority who told it to me). However, by the time I saw the film at the London Film Festival, Reygadas had changed his story to something along the lines of 'I had a story that I didn't know how to end and I've always liked the ending of Ordet'. Whether this is in fact the case of a filmmaker downplaying his own process and refusing to admit self-awareness for his creative decisions is hard to say, but it's also very hard to swallow. Whatever the real reason for Reygadas' lifting of Ordet's ending (and even his admirers have to admit it is a straight-out lift and not a reference), the fact remains that without the steady hand of Dreyer driving the feature-length build up to the shattering conclusion, it simply doesn't work. When I saw Silent Light at London, I so desperately wanted to like it, to love it, yet I found nothing except an empty shell.

Thankfully, I had my DVD of Ordet waiting at home to restore my faith in the power of cinema.

Quote for the Week

2010-01-16T10:27:00.002Z

To my father's mind, words must serve as confirmation of things, as signs of possession; to mine they were foretastes of things barely glimpsed, not possessed, presumed.

- Italo Calvino, The Road to San Giovanni

Playing to the Crowd

2010-01-07T14:11:00.011Z

Towards the end of last year I was commissioned by South East Media Network, in association with Directors Notes, to write a piece surveying the current landscape of production, distribution and promotion for indie filmmakers. The piece was recently published on Directors Notes and should be up on the SEMN website soon, but I've also republished the entire article below. Enjoy.

Playing to the Crowd

There’s no denying that in recent years the consumption of media has changed. With the rise of new spectatorship models it seems that the old models of production and distribution are becoming less and less viable, especially for low budget projects. In the place of the old models therefore, there are a number of new ones rising up, some of which are discussed below. It’s impossible to write exhaustively about these new models, as there are no longer any clear rules or templates for filmmakers to follow. However, it should be borne in mind that many of these ‘new’ techniques are now no longer new – they are based on existing technologies and there are now many precedents for filmmakers to learn from.

Production

Crowd-funding
Of the new production funding models, the most popular appears to be crowd-funding (also known as crowd-sourcing, crowd-sourced financing and DIWO, aka Do-It-With-Others), which essentially consists of using a ‘crowd’ of people to fund a project through a large number of small investments or donations. Individual contributions often start for as little as $5, with people being lured into donating through the promise of gifts or perks, such as a DVD copy of the finished film or having their name in the credits.

While some projects, such as the Jules Verne adaptation Clovis Dardentor (see buyacredit.com for details), use a PayPal button embedded onto their own website to manage the incoming donations, there are also a number of platform sites which will host the content for you. Although these sites have the advantage of a built-in user base which can help your project be discovered more easily, many of them will take a percentage of the donations in return for their services – so be sure to always read the small print. Some examples of crowd-funding platform sites are as follows:

IndieGoGo
A site which ‘provides tools for fundraising, promotion, and discovery‘, IndieGoGo works as a social networking site, allowing filmmakers to create a profile for themselves and their projects. Filmmakers are able to ask for financial donations in exchange for offering people a list of ‘VIP perks’ (i.e. the aforementioned DVD copies and credits). Funds are sent to the filmmaker as soon as the donation is received by IndieGoGo, and fundraising continues on the project until the total required amount is achieved. At present IndieGoGo charges ‘a 9% marketplace fee on funds raised‘. Those considering using IndieGoGo (or any other crowd-funding platform) should be sure to check out their invaluable Guide to DIWO Filmmaking, which offers details of how to make the most out of the system.

Fundable
A wider platform that can be used to raise funds for anything (as opposed to just films), Fundable allows users to create a page with information and details pertaining to their projects. In addition to setting the amount they wish to raise, users must also set a timeframe in which they hope to raise the money (up to a maximum of 26 days). If the full amount asked for is not raised during this time then the user will not receive any of the money, and no one is charged (if the full amount is raised then Fundable take a 10% fee). Although it might be frustrating for filmmakers not to receive any money if the full amount isn’t reached, it also prevents them from having to fulfill promises which they might not be able to afford to keep having failed to raise the full amount.

IndieMaverick
A site which aims to fund film through investments rather than donations, IndieMaverick allows filmmakers to place their projects onto the site in order for investors to view the details. At present, IndieMaverick is aimed solely at low-budget features and therefore only accepts projects over 60 minutes in length with a budget of under $1.5 million. Filmmakers only receive the money if the entire amount is raised, and IndieMaverick releases the money to them over three stages (preproduction, production and postproduction). Completed films will be offered for download on the website, though not before theatrical and home video runs have been completed as they ‘don’t want to get in the way of you selling it for big bucks’. All sales and profits from the film are split 30% to the producers and 70% to the investors, who are to be paid through the site on an annual basis.

Chipin
Another service which can be used for any purposes, Chipin asks users to enter information about what they’re collecting for, how much they want to raise, and when they need it by. Users are then provided with a Chipin widget that they can place on whatever site(s) they want, and are also given the opportunity to create their own Chipin page directly on the Chipin site. When the set time expires, users are given the amount raised regardless of what percentage of their target has been reached. At present, Chipin does not charge for their service (though PayPal fees will apply).

Brand Sponsorship and Advertising
Another potential source of revenue for filmmakers comes from advertising. Although the figures for internet consumption are currently ahead of those for internet advertising, there are numerous companies and brands directly producing and sponsoring content. Obvious examples include sites like MySpace and Bebo, who are producing a number of original online web shows (such as the reality TV series Married on MySpace and the drama Kate Modern).

Less obvious examples include the likes of Vauxhall, Honda, Red Bull and even Burger King. Pure Grass Films and Endemol UK, meanwhile, were given funding by MSN UK, with additional sponsorship from X-Box, to create the web drama Kirill for the MSN website. There are also many offline examples of filmmakers successfully using revenue from brands and products to help get their films made. For instance, the filmmaker Hunter Weeks was able to secure a soft drink placement deal for his first film which led to direct cash sponsorship from companies for his second film. However, there are those that believe that brands will soon wish to move beyond traditional ‘product placement’ into the realm of ‘product integration’ (essentially making the product a featured part of your story, such as the key to solving a particular mystery). More information about ‘product integration’ can be found on Krempelwood.com, the website for a company who ‘exist to marry brands with programming, providing a one-stop shop for all producers‘ and rights holders’ ‘sponsorship financing needs’.

Distribution

Online Screening Sites
There are now a large number of sites distributing and streaming content online. Although traditional release windows have conventionally meant that the Internet should be the last stop call for your film, initiatives such as day-and-date release strategies mean that this is not necessarily any longer the case. Indeed, films like wmd. have turned conventional wisdom on their head – in this case by appearing online on DailyMotion while still on the festival circuit, then having a DVD release through a traditional distributor, and finally ending up with a theatrical run. Some examples of online distributors are as follows:

The Autuers
The ‘fastest growing online destination‘ for film lovers, The Autuers is both a social networking site and an online cinema. The social aspect of the site allows users to connect with others and view their recommendations, while the cinema aspect allows viewers to watch a preselected range of the best independent, foreign and classic films.

Babelgum
Out to acquire the IFOD (Internet Free on Demand) rights to films, Babelgum is a forward-thinking distributor interested in focusing on day-and-date releases. Offering advanced minimum guarantees to filmmakers, Babelgum is intent on getting films to an audience and was recently involved with the multiplatform release strategy for Sally Potter’s Rage.

SnagFilms
A website ‘committed to finding the world’s most compelling documentaries…and making them available to the wide audience these titles deserve‘. Always on the lookout for new material, SnagFilms has an easy and open submission policy.

YouTube
Perhaps still the best known of the online video sites, YouTube has been making moves to become an outlet for completed films, as opposed to a site used only to host promotional content for projects receiving distribution elsewhere. One result of this drive has been the creation of youtube.com/movies and youtube.com/ytscreeningroom. Screening Room submission details.

OpenIndie
Although still in the process of getting off the ground, OpenIndie could be a site to watch. Set up by filmmaker and ‘new media mogul’ Arin Crumley, OpenIndie ‘is a user generated film screening site with the aim of democratizing distribution. Users can discover and bookmark films they’re interested in, request a screening in their area and put on a screening of any film on the site‘. Funding for the project is being raised in phases through the new crowd-funding site Kickstarter.com (currently only available for use by people based in the US who have received an invitation). At the time of writing Phase 2 is still active, and details can be found here.

Brand Sponsorship and Advertising
In addition to the production support discussed above, it is also possible for filmmakers to potentially generate revenue through brand sponsorship and advertising during the distribution phase. Co-created by Arin Crumley and Susan Buice, Four Eyes Monsters was one of the earliest pioneers of online distribution and struck a banner deal with YouTube which involved them streaming the entire film for free in return for the majority of the advertising revenue from an advertising banner on their page. Sites such as Revver and Blip.tv have democratised this process by offering all filmmakers the chance to upload their content and receive a 50% share of the revenue from advertising attached to their content.

VODO
An exciting new development in online distribution, VODO (short for Voluntary Donation) works by offering audiences the chances to watch and share films for free through P2P services, and then pay a voluntary donation directly to the filmmakers themselves. Outside of the VODO collective, other filmmakers are also working along similar lines. Earlier this year filmmaker Nina Paley released her film Sita Sings the Blues under a Creative Commons Share Alike License, encouraging people to download, watch and share her work for free. Palely believes that ‘audiences are generous and want to support artists‘, and has therefore offered viewers a number of ways to contribute financially to her in return for their enjoyment of her work, including buying DVDs and donating directly to her.

Hybrid Distribution
Also known as Split Rights Distribution, DIY Distribution or Self- Distribution, Hybrid Distribution essentially allows filmmakers to get their work in front of an audience while keeping the rights to, and control of, their work. Companies such as IndieFlix have been established precisely to help facilitate this method, offering filmmakers a 70% share of all net profit made from their DVD sales and rental downloads. Perhaps most importantly of all, IndieFlix only requires a Non-Exclusive licence, meaning that filmmakers are free to explore any other distribution options that they wish. Working in a similar fashion is Amazon’s CreateSpace, which allows content creators to sell DVDs and downloads through Amazon.com and receive up to 50% of the retail price.

Mobile Devices
Although most filmmakers are ultimately still aiming their work for the big screen, the opportunities being offered by the very small screen should not be overlooked. In 2006 the filmmaker Johannes Roberts created the made-for-mobile series When Evil Calls, which was subsequently edited together with additional footage to create a feature film for release on DVD. Meanwhile, distribution sites such as MoFilm and Zzizzi are currently offering filmmakers a 50/50 split of profits on made-for-mobile content.

Promotion

Evolved Storytelling
In a world of transmedia storytelling, where single projects are now spanning multiple platforms (films, internet, books, games, television, comics, etc.) in a bid to extend their story-world beyond a two hour runtime, it is important to define right from the outset what is considered ‘promotion’ and what is considered ‘content’ in its own right. At the recent Power to the Pixel conference held as part of the London Film Festival 2009, there was a constant emphasis on encouraging filmmakers to think about how transmedia content can be used to genuinely engage the viewer and expand the story of the film, as opposed to simply informing people that the film exists. By engaging people beyond a single platform, it becomes possible to increase awareness of a certain property and potentially maximise revenue. A brief rundown of examples of this type of ‘content’ promotion can be found in Christy Dena’s Filmmakers That Think Outside the Film article. Another strong emphasis at the conference was on involving the audience and turning them into active participants; including interactive elements has been proven to increase audience engagement and interest, whether it’s online games, widgets or content creation (such as fan fiction).

Social Media as Word of Mouth
One of the strongest tools in the low-budget film promotion arsenal has always been word of mouth – and with the rise of social networking, this has become even more apparent (see for instance, Sharon Waxman’s Social Networking Making Friday The Only Day That Counts piece). It has now been proven that low-budget filmmakers who actively engage with social networking have more success with their films. Through sites like MySpace, Facebook, Bebo and Twitter filmmakers can have direct contact with their audience. Furthermore, the sites can be used to create a sense of community amongst potential fans and help build a buzz around films before they’re even finished. Those wishing to utilise the sites to maximum effect should also look into applications such as TweetDeck, which serve to simplify and structure the using experience, and look for articles such as Grace Leong’s Top 5 Twitter Filmmaker Marketing Tips which provide hints on how best to utilise the service. In addition to the better known sites above, filmmakers are also now starting to utilise sites like Dopplr and foursquare to help them promote their work, while placing material on sites like Flickr and YouTube can also help create awareness of particular projects.

Yourfilm.com and Yourblog.net
In addition to social networking platforms, the advantages of hosting your own content on one centralised site should not be overlooked, even if that site simply serves to link people back out to content placed elsewhere. Producer Ted Hope has spoken about the need for filmmakers to provide greater access and insight into their creative processes, and blogging services like tumblr, Blogger and WordPess allow for push-button publishing of just such information.

By enlightening the audience to the practical and creative struggles inherent in the filmmaking process you are predisposing them to liking your material; not only can they potentially get to know you ‘as a person’, but they will also be aware of the struggle you have been through to get the film made. Of course, blogs need not be limited to the filmmaking process, and can also be used to engage readers with wider ideas and aims of your project. Finally, filmmakers can help other people spread the word about their projects through the use of buttons such as ‘the easiest, most popular sharing tool in the world‘, AddThis.

Further Reading (and Watching)

How to Fund your Film, the Film Finance Handbook – Chapter Four: A chapter from the book published under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-Share Alike License, this .pdf expands upon some of the points made above and includes case studies proving that techniques like crowd-funding really can work.

Fans, Friends & Followers: Building an Audience and a Creative Career in the Digital Age – Preview Edition: Another PDF book excerpt, this time from one which deals ‘with one of the central challenges that creative folks face in these digital times: how do you cultivate an audience and a business model that will support your work?’.

PeterBroderick.com: The website for distribution guru Peter Broderick, who ‘helps filmmakers and media companies develop strategies to maximize distribution, audience, and revenues‘. Be sure to also subscribe to his mailing list.

How To Be “Better Than Free”: A video of Brian Newman’s invaluable talk at the recent Power to the Pixel conference, in which he gives proof that free online streaming can lead to revenue for filmmakers, offers incentives that audiences are willing to pay for, and explains why the old models of distribution often lead to ‘free’ anyway. Invaluable.

Power to the Pixel Recommend Reading List: A list of articles related to the topics discussed at Power to the Pixel.

Commissioned by South East Media Network
in association with Directors Notes

The Best Films of 2009, and of the 00s

2010-01-03T10:49:00.004Z

So, I'm aware that by now most people's 'best of the year' lists have come and gone, passing by like the ships in the night they always end up being. However, I always like to wait until the year is well and truly gone before looking back, just in case the last few hours of the year bring along some kind of cinematic revelation. As it happens, this year, for me, they bought along Julie Delpy's 2 Days in Paris, which, although I enjoyed a lot, hasn't found a place in my list below of the best films from previous years that I saw for the first time in 2009 – but it could have, which is why I've waited until the start of 2010 to post these lists.

Unlike the 'round-up' approach that I took last year, I've decided to go for the list format... a decision I think I'm already starting to regret. Lists are, almost by definition, impossible beasts. The lists below have been through many revisions with films coming and going and moving up and down the lists. I therefore stand by these lists only for as long as it takes me to post them online, and I hereby reserve the right to change my mind. Lest that makes me sound flaky, let's be honest: our opinions of films are always changing as we see more and as we revisit – true classics get better with each and every viewing, while other films fall by the wayside as products of 'emperor's new clothes' syndrome. With this in mind, I'd like to point out that I've seen many great films this year and that many of them may well creep up my list of 'the best of 00s' as I become more familiar with them. Finally, I would also like to say that although I'm cautious about being too rigid about my lists, I do feel good about them and I love each and every one of the films I've mentioned.

There were also, of course, many disappointments this year, and films that I didn't love, though I won't dwell on them here...

Without further ado, then, here are my lists. Where relevant, titles link to pieces I've written on the films, while all director names link to their IMDB profiles.

The Best Films of 2009
01) In the City of Sylvia (dir. José Luis Guerín)
02) Wendy and Lucy (dir. Kelly Reichardt)
03) The Father of My Children (dir. Mia Hansen-Løve)
04) Lourdes (dir. Jessica Hausner)
05) The Portuguese Nun (dir. Eugène Green)
06) Me and Orson Welles (dir. Richard Linklater)
07) Kin (dir. Brian Welsh)
08) Humpday (dir. Lynn Shelton)
09) Enter The Void (dir. Gaspar Noé)
10) The Exploding Girl (dir. Bradley Rust Gray)
11) Encounters at the End of the World (dir. Werner Herzog)
12) Beeswax (dir. Andrew Bujalski)

Bubbling under: Three Days with the Family, All That She Wants, The Time That Remains, The Road, Bluebeard, Lake Tahoe, Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, The Informant!, The White Ribbon, A Light in the Fog.

The Best Films from Previous Years that I Saw for the First Time in 2009
01) Der Letzte Mann (1924, dir. F.W. Murnau)
02) Dreams (1955, dir. Ingmar Bergman)
03) Laila (1929, dir. George Schnéevoigt)
04) All These Women (1964, dir. Ingmar Bergman)
05) The Third Part of Night (1971, dir. Andrzej Zulawski)
06) Colossal Youth (2006, dir. Pedro Costa)
07) Ossos (1997, dir. Pedro Costa)
08) Night of the Demon (1957, dir. Jacques Tourneur)
09) Underworld (1927, dir. Josef von Sternberg)
10) Paranoid Park (2007, dir. Gus Van Sant)

Bubbling under: The Wind, Marie Antoinette, Hunger, Man Push Cart.

The Best Films of the 00s
01) Werckmeister Harmonies (2000, dir. Béla Tarr)
02) Gangs of New York (2002, Martin Scorsese)
03) Saraband (2003, dir. Ingmar Bergman)
04) Trilogy: The Weeping Meadow (2004, dir. Theo Angelopoulos)
05) Solaris (2002, dir. Steven Soderbergh)
06) Waking Life (2001, dir. Richard Linklater)
07) A Cock and Bull Story (2005, dir. Michael Winterbottom)
08) Before Sunset (2004, dir. Richard Linklater)
09) Duck Season (2004, dir. Fernando Eimbcke)
10) The Devil's Backbone (2001, dir. Guillermo del Toro)
11) In the City of Sylvia (2007, dir. José Luis Guerín)
12) The Man from London (2007, dir. Béla Tarr)
13) Summer Hours (2008, dir. Olivier Assayas)
14) Pan's Labyrinth (2006, dir. Guillermo del Toro)
15) Ocean's Twelve (2004, dir. Steven Soderbergh)
16) Caché (2005, dir. Michael Haneke)
17) In The Mood for Love (2000, dir. Wong Kar Wai)
18) Birth (2004, dir. Jonathan Glazer)
19) The Proposition (2005, dir. John Hillcoat)
20) Brokeback Mountain (2005, dir. Ang Lee)

Bubbling under: Turtles Can Fly, X-Men 2, Che, Full Frontal, Stranger than Fiction, Garden State, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter…and Spring, Heaven, Good Night, And Good Luck, Hannah Takes the Stairs, and too many more to mention...

Quote for the Week

2009-12-22T18:39:00.002Z

Lermontov: Why do you want to dance?
Vicky: Why do you want to live?
Lermontov: Well I don't know exactly why, er, but I must.
Vicky: That's my answer too.

- The Red Shoes

A Complex Complex

2009-12-15T20:41:00.002Z

A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to see Michael Haneke in conversation at the BFI Southbank. Although I'm a little hot and cold on the Austrian auteur (I like some of his films more than others and I still wonder if he really belongs in the 'pantheon', so to speak), he is undeniably one of the most interesting and powerful directors working today, and he certainly has several complex masterpieces under his belt – complex being the key word here.

Like many filmmakers, Haneke's best work succeeds because it plays on several levels, composed as it is not only of surface narrative but also of deeper themes and ideas which force us to confront our preconceptions and attitudes. In short, the thing that makes Haneke's films what they are is their complicated, multifaceted nature.

It therefore came as no real surprise when Haneke spoke out about the ridiculousness of the 'pitching' stage of filmmaking, and specifically the idea that filmmakers should be able to convey their entire idea in a single sentence. Obviously this isn't a problem for high concept work ('It's Jaws in Space'), but for anyone working in the 'arthouse' sphere it certainly raises some issues. Trying to encapsulate the films of filmmakers working on the level of Haneke in such a brief way – even once it's completed – seems a rather pointless (not to say futile) exercise. This is perhaps even more the case with a filmmaker like Béla Tarr, whose work deals as much with the ineffable as it does with more tangible concerns.

So, I guess the questions then are: why has this 'culture' of the one-liner (the logline) emerged, and who is it ultimately benefitting? The writer? The audience? Or, for want of a better word, the executive?

Clearly it's the latter.

But let's not be flippant about this. Even at my stage of career, my time has become a premium. As a writer I find loglines infuriating to create, but as a director looking over prospective projects they're a great timesaver – if I like the sound of the project I'll read on, if I don't then I won't. So it's clear that these loglines, as inappropriate as they often are, do serve some kind of purpose. But I do wonder (and worry) about the future of an industry in which projects can be passed over (or commissioned) on the strength or weakness of a single sentence – a space which is completely adequate to encapsulate the entirety of a project (unless it's high concept or, God help us, hollow).

I'm not sure that, as yet, I can think of a solution to this problem. People are busy and there needs to be a way to sort through the mountains of projects in a quick and timely fashion. But I also think that there needs to be a more widespread recognition of just how absurd the whole idea of the logline really is. I've heard of writers working backwards, creating a great logline and then trying to construct a script around it. Effective high-end material aside, I fail to see how this can really create great, complex cinema and it suggests that we could reach a time where projects are dumbed-down to the point that (mainstream) cinema excludes anything which takes more than a few seconds to summarise. Some would no doubt argue that all films, no matter how complicated, can be effectively summarised in a few words, and perhaps there is some truth in that. But we have to remain open to those projects that can't be, and not be so rigid in our acceptance of the ludicrous logline that we overlook filmmakers attempting to make complex work that will challenge us. Otherwise there'll be no new filmmakers able to continue the spirit of people like Haneke. And, let's face it, the world would be a far more boring place without them.

Beyond the Canon

2009-12-03T10:10:00.003Z

A few months ago I was asked to take part in a poll of the best films 'beyond the canon'. Essentially 'a greatest films poll, only without the greatest films', the idea was to put together a list of the best films beyond those that are normally found in such lists. A list of 'The Canon' – i.e. films that were ineligible – was provided, and participants then drew up their lists of the 'best of the rest', so to speak. My personal list can be found here, and the final results are here.

Quote for the Week

2009-11-22T23:10:00.002Z

'Back in 2002, when I asked [Soderbergh] if he was happy with Solaris, he commented: "it almost doesn't matter, because I'm really driven by process. I'm not a result oriented film-maker."' – From Split Personality by Demetrios Matheou in the December 09 Issue of Sight and Sound.

Goodbye Filmstock, We'll Miss You

2009-11-17T11:45:00.003Z

Me in the rogues' gallery. The numbers represent the first Filmstock attended.

As regular readers of this blog might remember, around this time last I year I wrote about my first trip to Filmstock International Film Festival, which I attended as a screening filmmaker with my short film Canbury. I wrote about the 'friendly, passionate and supportive ethos with which the festival was run' before talking about some of the great films that I'd seen while there. Well, this year I was fortunate enough to have two of my shorts selected: Hungerford: Symphony of a London Bridge and Paintbrush (which, I'm thrilled to say, also picked up the audience award for its session). Getting into any festival is always a good feeling, but I was especially excited about being invited back to Filmstock. After my experience there last year I'd have attended the festival even if they'd have kicked my films back, but I have to admit that the fact they selected them added to my enjoyment and gave the trip more of a purpose (other than just that of having fun!). However, as pleased as I was to be returning to the festival, I also knew that the trip would be tinged with sadness: shortly before the festival began it was announced that this would be the last ever edition of Filmstock.

The poster for this year's festival.

Given this fact, I'd like to focus more on the festival itself rather than the films, though I did see many that liked. I doubt that what I write here will be able to capture the frankly indescribable experience of attending Filmstock, but hopefully I'll at least be able to express something of what I feel. Returning to the festival was like returning to a family fold, as warm and as welcoming as one could hope for – as well as being able to pull together a strong festival programme, it seems like organisers Neil and Justin have a knack for finding great people to work with. To restate my friend and collaborator Rahim Moledina's comment from last year, you can really 'feel the love' (this year's festival poster, as seen above, says it all). Clearly, I'm not the only one who feels this way; many people that I spoke to had returned from previous years and those who were new to the fest seemed agreed that they'd come to the party too late. I don't feel I can write much else without slipping into hyperbole, so I'll finish here, but I'd like to add that I feel immensely proud and grateful to have been a part of this festival for the last two years. I saw some great work and made some great friends, and I'll never forget my Filmstock experiences.

Finally, although this is the end of Filmstock, I'm sure it isn't the end of Neil and Justin, and I can't wait to see what they do next – both with their filmmaking and with any future festivals or events that they put on. As I said before, Filmstock is like a family, and I can't wait for there to be some kind of reunion – in whatever form it takes. So here's to Neil and Justin and whatever their future holds! Goodbye Filmstock, we'll miss you.

Me with Rahim (right) and festival organisers Neil Fox (left) and Justin Doherty (second from right).

The Quietus LFF Roundup

2009-11-10T10:46:00.004Z

A feature article that I contributed to for The Quietus has been published here: http://thequietus.com/articles/03176-the-quietus-london-film-festival-2009-roundup. Due to length the editor decided not to include all the reviews the contributors sent in, so here are the ones I did that didn't make it in:

Hadewijch

The story of a theology student whose extreme devotion to God gets her kicked out of her convent for being a 'parody of a nun', Hadewijch is a frustrating mess of a film. Struggling to reconcile her love of God with His ever-deafening silence, Céline is taken down a devastating path by her new Muslim friend Nassir, who persuades her that God 'manifests himself through admiration'. The film starts as an insightful investigation into faith in the modern world before moving into its strongest section, in which Céline and Nassir find common ground between their faiths – surely an important message given the current political climate. It's all the more frustrating, then, when the film descends into fundamentalist stereotypes and, more crucially, stops making sense; taken on both a literal and a figurative level the last third of the film is problematic, confusing, and unsatisfying.

Alexander the Last
Although Alexander the Last might be produced by Noah Baumbach and be director Joe Swanberg's first film starring professional actors, it's still every bit as fiercely independent as one would expect a film from Swanberg to be. Dealing with an actress' struggle to keep her feelings for her onstage lover in check and her offstage marriage intact, it's hard not to read the film as a personal reaction to the making of Swanberg's previous film, in which he starred as a man in an intense long-distance relationship. Once again working with improvisation to create his material, Swanberg has managed to make an intelligent film which deals honestly with the emotional struggles faced by those attempting to be truthful and committed in both art and life.

The Time That Remains

Starting with the 1948 surrender of Nazareth to Israeli troops, and continuing up to the present day, Elia Suleiman’s new film is a deft mix of the personal and political, perfectly blending his family history with the political history of Nazareth. Although a knowledge of Palestinian politics probably helps, the family drama, stunning photography and deadpan, absurdist, and often visual humour ensure that there’s still plenty to enjoy for more casual viewers.

Death and Disability at the London Film Festival 2009

2009-11-03T18:38:00.001Z

A piece that I wrote about a couple of trends I noticed in the films I saw at LFF has been published over at BritFilms. You can check it out here: http://www.britfilms.tv/index.php?id=9152.

The Exploding Controversy

2009-10-31T21:34:00.005Z

Now that the London Film Festival has closed its doors for its 2009 edition, I thought I'd comment briefly on one of the things I found most surprising about my first stint as an accredited member of the press. Based on the post-screening conversations I had, the most critically controversial film of the festival was not any of the obvious choices; say, for instance, the new films from 'provocatrice' Catherine Breillat, or 'provocateur par excellence' Gaspar Noé, or even Bruno Dumont who 'has a way of dividing audiences like few other directors' (all quotes from the LFF brochure). No, this year's greatest divider was none other than Bradley Rust Gray, with his film The Exploding Girl, about an epileptic girl who returns home for spring vacation and finds herself getting close to a long-term friend as her college relationship crumbles around her.

So why exactly has this charming, tender film proved so controversial? Well, it's a good question – I was initially surprised to find that anyone had found such a seemingly innocuous film offensive in any way. However, after a little thought it wasn't so hard to see what people disliked about it: it's quiet, it's unfussy, it's slow, it's subtle – all attributes which many people dislike in films, even though they might claim otherwise. To compound matters further, it's also incredibly simple – a fact that even admirers such as myself have to concede. As beautiful and as likeable as the film is, there's no denying that there's not a huge amount of depth to it, playing as it does as an extended will-they-won't-they scenario. In short, it's a one note film. For its detractors, it didn't matter how well acted it was or how striking the cinematography looked – it just wasn't interesting enough to sustain its slender 79 minute run time. For the people who champion the film (amongst whom I class myself), it was one note played so well that the lack of variation to its melody wasn't a problem.

What I find so interesting, therefore, about the whole debate that blew up about this film is a) that out of all the films this was the one which split people so passionately, and b) that there seems to be a certain level of agreement between the people on each side of the argument. So, regardless of whether what I've said here makes the film appeal to you, I'd urge you to see it when you get a chance, so that at the least you'll know which side of the fence you fall on....

The Converging I's – Double Take

2009-10-27T09:47:00.005Z

Last week I attended one of the LFF screenings of Johan Grimonprez's film Double Take, in which Alfred Hitchcock returns to his office during the shooting of The Birds to find himself confronted by his double (an older version of himself). The encounter between the two Hitchcocks is inspired by a story from Jorge Luis Borges' late story collection Shakespeare's Memory – August 25, 1983 – something which I didn't realise until I saw the story mentioned in the Double Take credits (there is no reference to Borges in the LFF blurb about the film, nor on the film's IMDB page). I think the fact that I was familiar with the Borges story, but not familiar enough to recognise it instantly (it's been a few years since I read it), added a very appropriate extra layer of doubling to my enjoyment of the film; it felt somehow familiar, like a half-forgotten dream.

The film also reminded me of a short story that I wrote a few years ago for a competition (after I'd discovered Borges but before I'd read August 25, 1983, I hasten to add). Although reading it again now makes me realise it's a bit of a mess, I thought it was still worth posting on here. As I remember it, there were two main things I was trying to achieve with it. The first was thematic, to do with identity and specifically how one deals with one's past and future selves. The second idea was concerned with form and style. As it was a story about time travel, and therefore about the non-linear unfolding of time, I wanted to attempt to create a similar effect through 'time travelling' parts of the story in and out of sequence. I'm not fully convinced that it worked, but please judge for yourself...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

From the journal of C– B–, 25th June, 2006:

Somewhere in there, there was a story. Perhaps. But I’d started at the end, so it was impossible to tell exactly what, or where, it was. I was writing my journal – this journal – when it began. Or at least as much as something like this can be said to begin…what happens to narrative chronology when the very fabric of time itself is folded and delineated? I suspect, like time itself, it becomes a mess, embedded through and through with inconsistencies and paradoxes. He I We He Me I How to refer to my future-self? Surely the personal pronoun of ‘I’ still suffices, for although when in a face-to-face meeting such as this I am two separate entities, present and future, my future self still remains myself, nevertheless? It was over and I stepped out of the light, and the shadows reclaimed me, never to be seen again (back to my own time, I suspect). Having now left myself alone with myself, it seemed that I also wanted to return to my own time, and so I too stepped back into the shadows to be reclaimed by my past. Yet still my present memory remained unchanged by this meeting. The pen scratched over the browning paper in my crowded study. Ink flowed onto the pages as I sat writing down my thoughts of the day into my journal. The room was dark, illuminated only by my desk lamp. Around me shadows abounded – the very shadows from which ~~they~~ I came. ‘Yes, you will remember this day, and what is said here. I remember this day’ I said to myself. ‘Indeed, it was fundamental to my – our – discovery, to us solving our lifelong dilemma’. I interrupted myself: ‘well at least in your branch. In mine it was our next meeting which solved our problems’. I sat, dumbfounded, unsure of what I – either I – was saying. Although my ink had been flowing before my arrival, my mind was dry. I had got no nearer to finishing my life’s work: how to manipulate the flow of time in order to travel along it at a disproportionate speed, or even, perhaps, to turn it back on itself. In short I was alone in my study hoping to crack the secret of time travel. If I knew then what I know now, perhaps I would have ended my quest long ago…I was staring at myself dumbfounded when the second I arrived (that is, the second I that wasn’t the I that is here now). I was as dumbfounded as I, evidently not expecting myself to arrive for a third time. I explained it to my two other selves: ‘I know neither of you remember me at this meeting, but afterwards I decide that even this present time is too long after the start of my search , and head back even further to reveal the secrets’. ‘Huh’, I said, obviously grasping this better than I had. I continued: ‘but then how come I do not remember being here twice before? And I was only present twice at the previous meeting…and surely even the I younger than me but older than you would remember this, remember being here before?’. ‘Ah, of course’ I responded to myself ‘in this branch of the future I know less than I do in my own past…how silly of me to forget…I will be informed at this meeting by my past self – I – that each journey through the time stream results in a new branch – an alternate time, an alternate reality being formed. Of course, I also tell this to myself when I return to the past and share the very secret of time travel’. I nodded. I too was beginning to grasp the ludicrous situation before me: ‘So I have come here to tell my past self the secret of time travel?’. I – both Is – nodded to myself. My nib was running dry. I was about to refill the cartridge when I first stepped from the shadows. ‘Do not be alarmed’ I told myself. But I was nevertheless…I was being faced with my own shadow, no, my own reflection, no, my own self! ‘I have come from your future to put an end to this quest of yours – of ours…’ My voice halted as another set of footsteps soaked up from the flower-patterned carpet. I turned and I turned also, only to see myself step forth from the shadows…oh, to be young again!…The wrinkles on my forehead were nowhere to be found on this earlier version of myself. ‘And so’ I concluded to myself ‘there you have the answers that you seek. Like I have said, where they came from I do not know, but now at least you know them too’. I nodded to myself. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and now you know also that you must go further back, and continue the cycle’. I nodded, and so did I. I continued: ‘and don’t forget to explain to yourself that when you travel you only travel into a possible past…a new branch. A new possibility’. I nodded again. It was over. I wished myself luck and stepped backwards, away, going. Gone. ‘Ah,’ I said in response to myself. ‘But if I inform myself of this branching, then again the paradox ensues…this paradox is destroying me, you know? It’s the one thing I haven’t answered. Perhaps, youngest self, you can answer it…you seem to know more than me…if these ideas are being passed from my older self to my younger self, where do they come from to begin with?’. I sighed. ‘I may have solved the mystery of the branching, of unremembered past activities, but this even I have not solved. Perhaps by the time the I of my branch reaches the same age as the I of your branch, I will know. But where do any ideas come from?’. ‘It’s true,’ I responded ‘that ideas are usually generated by oneself…given to oneself, but this seems different. I am here to tell my younger self the secrets he is looking for, and in years to come he will repeat the cycle, and the idea will go around continually, never ending, but seemingly never starting either’. I nodded – the I that is the I that writes this I – adding ‘perhaps it is not for us to understand the nature of the divine’. I nodded in unison to myself. There was nothing left to do but conclude. Indeed, there is nothing left to do but conclude, and it would seem I must get going. I have a date with myself, and secrets to share…

The Informant!

2009-10-20T21:45:00.008+01:00

Last night was the UK premiere of Steven Soderbergh's The Informant! at the London Film Festival. I'm pleased to say that my doubts about the film were quickly dispelled - it's smart, funny, moving and engrossing. I should have had more faith in Soderbergh, who is still yet to make a bad film. Here's the LFF trailer. Go and see it at the festival, or when it comes out on general release - you'll enjoy it. Plus, if it's a hit it'll no doubt help Soderbergh be able to do another film more in the vein of Solaris or The Good German, which can only be a good thing.

We Live In Public

2009-10-20T21:43:00.002+01:00

A short piece that I wrote on Ondi Timoner's We Live In Public has been published on the Electric Sheep website as part of their preview of week two of London Film Festival. You can check it out here: http://www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk/news/?p=717

Kin

2009-10-13T21:40:00.003+01:00

Following on from the publication of my Cambridge Film Festival report last week, I thought it might be a good idea to talk about Brian Welsh's Kin a little bit further. Why? Two reasons, really. Firstly, I’m worried that this great piece of work is in danger of being overlooked and therefore remaining undiscovered, and, secondly, in a slight contradiction, because as much as I loved it, it also represents something I really dislike about British cinema – namely a constant focus on the lives of miserable working class people being miserable, getting drunk, and then abusing each other. (People often refer to this type of cinema as 'gritty', but what they really mean is 'miserable and depressing'.) Though the Dardenne brothers were quoted by Welsh as one of his main influences, the film's low-budget, interior, hand-held style and focus on character over plot can't help but bring the spectre of 'mumblecore' to mind (I'm going to sidestep my own inner conflict at using the 'm' word, as it serves as a useful shorthand in this context). I won't dwell on this for too long, but I do find the difference of focus (essentially navel-gazing romance vs. drunken abuse) an interesting one, and I wonder if it perhaps says something about the difference in mentality between the US and the UK. I want to make it clear that I'm not attempting to say that one mentality is better than the other, but if I'm being honest I know which one I'd rather watch given the choice (you can find me gazing at my navel on a regular basis, no doubt). Still, I think I've made it clear that Kin is a superb piece of work, and I hope these comment don't detract from that; I sincerely hope that it gets distribution and finds an audience. But, perhaps in the future, us Brits could put the bottles down and instead lift up our shirts to gaze at what's underneath...

Quote for the Week

2009-10-11T11:21:00.002+01:00

'An intense inner life quietly lived' – Creation director Jon Amiel talking about Darwin's wife Emma during the question and answer session following the film at its screening at the Cambridge Film Festival. I think he may have been quoting from someone else, but it struck me as a very beautiful description of a certain way of living. It also captures perfectly the nuances of Jennifer Connelly's portrayal of Emma in the film.

Cambridge Film Festival 2009

2009-10-06T20:00:00.002+01:00

A piece that I wrote about this year's Cambridge Film Festival has been published over at BritFilms.TV. You can check it out here: http://www.britfilms.tv/index.php?id=8941.

Quote for the Week

2009-10-04T21:26:00.001+01:00

Dreaming. – Either one does not dream, or does so interestingly. One should learn to spend one’s waking life in the same way: not at all, or interestingly.

- Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, Section 232

London, Capital of Film

2009-09-27T19:44:00.007+01:00

Right now feels like a great time to be a film fan living in London. October is always an exciting time due to the London Film Festival, which seems to be going from strength-to-strength (and this year is no exception). But in addition to the looming 53rd LFF there are also a number of other great film events currently going on in the capital. Take, for instance, The National Gallery's Paradise Lost film season, which started on Saturday with Jerzy Kawalerowicz's 1961 masterpiece Mother Joan of the Angels, and which continues over the next couple of months with two classic Bergman's (Through a Glass Darkly and Winter Light), Bresson's masterful Procès de Jeanne d'Arc and my favourite Buñuel (Simon of the Desert), amongst several others. Meanwhile, over at the Tate Modern there's the UK's first retrospective of the acclaimed Portuguese filmmaker Pedro Costa. According to Sight & Sound's recent article on Costa, DVDs of his work are going to start trickling their way into the UK market (his debut, O Sangue is now available courtesy of Second Run), but this retrospective offers a great opportunity to discover these hard-to-see films on the big screen. I find it interesting that these two great seasons are happening in art galleries and not in cinemas, and I wonder what it says about the cinema scene in the UK – but that's a topic for another day.

So, what else there to be excited about? Well (in a facetious way) how about the new monthly networking and screening night that I'm running? No? Okay, well, on a more serious note, how about a Barbican 'Directorspective' on Wojciech Has? In my opinion, Has is one of the most cruelly overlooked directors of all time. In recent years, his work seems to have been undergoing something of a 'rediscovery' thanks to Martin Scorsese's and Francis Ford Coppola's restoration of The Saragossa Manuscript which was first released in 2001, and which enjoyed an extended run at the BFI at the end of 2007, swiftly followed by Mr Bongo's DVD release. Featured in none of the many film books in my collection, it seems like Has has been largely and unfairly sidelined in the history of cinema when, based on the four films I've seen by him, he really deserves to be right up there in the 'canon' of master filmmakers. Split between psychological realism and more surrealist work, his oeuvre seems to be crying out for a true reappraisal and adoption into the ranks of the 'canon'. Hopefully this retrospective (which is also touring to other cities the UK) will help others to discover the work of a filmmaker who has provided acknowledged inspiration for directors like Luis Buñuel, David Lynch, Lars von Trier and Martin Scorsese (all of whom have, at times, described The Saragossa Manuscript as their favorite film). A work of poetic beauty and magical realism, I'd easily also recommend it to fans of writers such as Italo Calvino and Jorge Luis Borges.

The events that I'm mentioning here are, of course, not the only things happening in London film-wise, but with all this going on how can anyone have time to do anything else? Before finishing I'll return (briefly) to where I came in...

The LFF line-up does seem very strong this year. I've managed to get a press pass for the festival and intend to write about everything I see in one way or another, so I'll be posting articles, capsule reviews or links up here as and when I can/want to. A few of the films I'm especially excited about and therefore very much hoping to see are (in no particular order): The Portuguese Nun (because of Kieron Corless' comments in the latest Sight & Sound), Father of My Children (because it's based loosely on the life of producer Humbert Balsan), Alexander the Last and Beeswax (because I like these kinds of films), Laila (because it's directed by George Schnéevoigt, who shot four of Dreyer's silent films), The Informant! (okay, so the trailer is terrible, but Soderbergh is still yet to make a bad film, so I have faith...), The Men Who Stare at Goats (because Grant Heslov did great work on Good Night, and Good Luck and Unscripted), The Road (because The Proposition was a masterpiece), and The Touch (because it's Bergman).

I Am One

2009-09-25T10:04:00.005+01:00

Well, this blog is now officially one year old. I'm aware that the frequency of my posting has been up and down over that time, but I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading it – from the official 'followers' to the regular readers to the irregular readers to those who have just stopped by the once. Thanks to each and every one of you for your support and your comments. I hope that you've enjoyed what you've read and that you'll continue to enjoy what I write. Here's to another year!

Quote for the Week

2009-09-17T15:38:00.004+01:00

Do you think we're gonna make it? I don't know unless we try
you could sit here scared to move or we could take them by surprise

- Lyrics from 'The Gauntlet' by Dropkick Murphys

The Problem with Listening without Following the Lyrics...

2009-09-08T14:12:00.004+01:00

I'm aware it's been a while since my last proper post, and that this post is completely out of keeping with my previous posts. But hopefully this uncharacteristic entry will be considered a brief, amusing, sidestep before normal service is resumed...

I was listening to the radio yesterday when 'I Predict a Riot' by the Kaiser Chiefs came on. Now, the funny thing about 'I Predict a Riot' is that I first became aware of the song when it was played in clubs while I was a student and, not knowing anything about it (not even the name of the song or who it was by), I was utterly convinced that the lyrics to the chorus were, in fact, 'I'm Fully Tourettes, I'm Fully Tourettes'.

Well, what can I say? We've all done it at some point or other.

For the longest time not only myself but also all of my friends held a steadfast belief that the chorus to 'Got It On Tuesday' by The Wildhearts was not 'I got it on Tuesday, just like a cheque in the mail' but was, instead, 'I got it on Tuesday, just like a kick in the nads'. Finally, in a similar vein (somewhat literally), and perhaps most amusingly of all, for some reason I originally thought that the lines 'You got me lying with ease / I'm only keeping the peace' in their song 'Whoa Shit, You Got Through' were 'You got me lying in lenis / I want a kick in the penis'. Which makes no sense whatsoever. So there you have it.

Normal service to resume shortly, you'll be pleased to hear...

Quote for the Week

2009-09-06T13:14:00.002+01:00

Buying books would be a good thing if one could also buy the time to read them in: but as a rule the purchase of books is mistaken for the appropriation of their contents. – Arthur Schopenhauer, On Books and Writing.

A Response to the Kid In The Front Row: What impact can we have as filmmakers? And with impact, do we have responsibility?

2009-08-09T22:43:00.006+01:00

Over on his blog, the Kid In the Front Row has written a post entitled 'What impact can we have as filmmakers? And with impact, do we have responsibility?', in which he asks the following questions:

What is the maximum impact we can have as filmmakers? Can films really change lives? Can they make us act for social change? Can they change us for the better?

As the post has been written to encourage debate, I thought that I would write a post detailing some of my own thoughts in reply to these questions, as well as commenting briefly on The Kid's own post.

Essentially, The Kid's answers to these questions (as I understand them) focus on how films can change people in the sense of our political and social ideas, or, in other words, the way that film can affect us (or indeed manipulate us) to change our views in a somewhat 'practical' sense. To put it another way, The Kid is, whether intentionally or not, discussing the role of film as propaganda. Personally, I do not believe that audiences are necessarily susceptible to indoctrination (for want of a better word) through cinema, but I do believe that 'campaign' films can be dangerous if they go unchecked, especially when they offer very biased views. To take a recent example, there was a Channel Four documentary which put forth the idea that climate change doesn't exist, a view which was readily adopted verbatim by several people I know. So here is a practical example of a film (or, in this case, a television documentary) having a direct impact on people and explicitly influencing their views in life, and therefore their behaviour. As I said before, however, I don't necessary believe that films themselves have the power to change people outright, and I would suggest that the people I know who are now so rigid in stating their denial of climate change probably had this belief before seeing the programme. (If they didn't, surely the most the programme would have done would have been to spur them into conducting further research? Though perhaps I am overestimating the strength of the human spirit in my belief that people cannot be so easily influenced!).

For my own answers to these questions, I would take a slightly different approach, and I hope it's not an approach which is at odds with the original questions. To me, film can have a huge impact on our lives in a way which, perhaps, can be referred to as spiritual. I'm not sure that spiritual is a great term for it, just as practical probably isn't the right term to discuss the effects that I've spoken about above but hopefully these terms, at the least, make sense in the context of this post. So, what do I mean by spiritual? Well, I'm thinking of the way that certain films – such as, say, those by Bergman, Tarkovsky, or Haneke – make us think about the world around us, and our approach towards it (for instance, by exploring responses to violence, religion or grief). By making us think about a diverse range of philosophical and ethical concerns, these filmmakers provoke responses which change us as people, and they do so not by propaganda, but by provoking reactions and making us look inside ourselves in order to find new facets of understanding about our existence and our approach towards the world in which we live. In this way, I would argue, filmmakers can have a huge impact on their viewers, and can indeed change them 'for the better'.

So the difference between what I see as essentially propaganda, and what I see as films which can provoke change within us, is that the former promotes a message and tries to persuade us that this message is right, whereas the latter ask us questions which open us up to our own responses and allow us to find our own 'meaning', our own 'message'. As both a filmmaker and a film fan, I would suggest that the latter is a far better – and more morally responsible – way to elicit change within the viewer.

Before finishing, I'm aware that many would argue that a filmmaker such as Haneke should fall into the former category and not the latter, but I would respond that although his films often have a very clear authorial 'message' to them, they convey this message in such a way as to provoke the viewer into her or his own response to the message, rather than simply expecting the viewer to soak it up wholeheartedly and unquestioningly.

Narrative in Cinema

2009-08-05T17:14:00.002+01:00

The other day I was out with a friend of mine and I said something rather flippantly, not thinking much of it at the time (it was just a part of our conversation). But having thought about it for a few more days, I wonder if there actually is some truth to what I said. My basic point was this: narrative cinema is dying out because arthouse filmmakers have effectively moved beyond narrative in an attempt to find greater meaning and insight, while mainstream filmmakers have, quite simply, forgotten how to tell a story. Obviously it's a bit of a rash generalisation – and it depends on how you define 'narrative' – but I wonder if there's something to it. Feel free to leave me a comment and tell me what you think.

Quote for the Week

2009-07-28T16:00:00.004+01:00

Towards the end of last week I finished reading the Penguin Classics version of Lewis Carroll’s Alice stories. I made this note, from “Alice” on the Stage, in which Carroll is discussing the actress portraying Alice in a stage version of the story:

‘But what I admired most, as realising most nearly my ideal heroine, was her perfect assumption of the high spirits, and readiness to enjoy everything, of a child out for a holiday. I doubt if any grown actress, however experienced, could have worn this air so perfectly; we look before and after, and sigh for what is not; a child never does this: and it is only a child that can utter from her heart the words poor Margaret Fuller Ossoli so longed to make her own, “I am all happy now!”

I found it a rather poignant sentiment: that we, as adults, look and judge in ‘negative’, defining things by what they are not and by what they exclude; because we have a higher level of knowledge and higher standards than children we are more aware of the concept of ‘imperfection’, resulting in a striving for ‘what is not’ which prevents us from simply enjoying ‘what is’. Perhaps if we learnt to look and judge in ‘positive’ we could start enjoying things for what they are, rather than criticising them for what they are not; perhaps what we all need is a little more child-like wonder in our lives...

Exosquad

2009-07-18T17:40:00.011+01:00

Like most people, I grew up watching a healthy dose of Saturday morning kids’ cartoons, and like most people, I had my favourites. I often hear people talking about this show and that show, but for me there was one series that blew all the others away: Exosquad. Like many great works, the show seems to have been largely overlooked and forgotten by all but a dedicate group of loyal followers (see http://www.stwing.upenn.edu/~pdanner/resolute2.shtml for one of the longest running and best respected fan sites). Over the years, the fans, myself included, have petitioned for the release of the series of DVD. Finally, on April 14th 2009, this wish was granted when Universal released the first season on DVD in the States. It took me a while to hear about the release, but I ordered the disc within minutes of finding out about it – that’s how excited I was to finally be able to see the series again.

But, of course, that level of excitement is a dangerous thing. Can a kids’ cartoon from the early nineties really be all that good? And let’s face it, my taste in television programmes hasn’t exactly stayed the same over the years. So I was very worried about being disappointed. When the disc arrived, I placed it into my player with extreme excitement, but also trepidation that I was about to crumble my childhood memories to dust (I used to love this show so much that I literarily had dreams about it)...

But I needn’t have worried. The show is amazing, and every bit as good as I remember it. And it’s not just me saying it. Look at any of the fan reviews for the disc, and everyone’s saying the same thing: that it’s just as good as, if not even better, than they remember it. So, what is it that makes the show so great? Quite simply, it’s the writing. Forget about Heroes or Lost or any of the other supposedly great shows – Exosquad genuinely delivers what those shows promised and failed to do: it gave us characters to care about, action sequences to get excited about, and ideas to actually think about. Undoubtedly one of a kind, it’s certainly one of the best TV shows that I’ve seen, and I urge you all to go out a buy the Season 1 DVD. I don’t say this only to help you discover what you’ve been missing, but also for the selfish reason that I ~~want~~ need the first season to be a success so that Universal will release the second.

Unfortunately I couldn’t find a version of the opening introduction which I could embed, but you can watch it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52WvNMUt7Pk

Quote for the Week

2009-07-10T18:44:00.004+01:00

I’m currently reading Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. Although Carroll’s work obviously offers a whole host of interesting quotes, its focus on language (and more specifically the footnotes quoting from Lewis Carroll’s Symbolic Logic) reminded me of a quote that I have been thinking of putting up for quite some time. It comes from Seamus Heaney’s introduction to his translation of Beowulf:

‘But in Hiberno-English Scullion-speak, the particle ‘so’ came naturally to the rescue, because in that idiom ‘so’ operates as an expression that obliterates all previous discourse and narrative, and at the same time functions as an exclamation calling for immediate attention’ (from page xxvii).

Ever since reading this I’ve never been able to write the word ‘so’ at the beginning of a sentence without thinking about it. Like many other words, ‘so’ is a simple, common word that we use on a daily basis and because of this we use it automatically, without even really thinking about what it means or the power that it contains. What’s great about the quote from Heaney is that it takes us back to the word itself and makes us consider language in a (perhaps) new way. Although I wouldn’t say that I hold any particularly special interest in linguistics or semantics, as a writer I like to feel that connection with language and I love the way that Heaney expresses the outright power which can be conveyed by the conjunction of two simple letters.

Edinburgh International Film Festival, Part III

2009-07-01T20:39:00.008+01:00

Please note that this is Part III of a three part post. Part I is here, and Part II is here.

Day 4: Tuesday 23rd June
Started at 09:00 at Cinemaworld for the industry screening of Masquerades. The film took me a while to warm to, but by the end I really enjoyed it. It’s not so much funny as humorous, but somehow it’s a very human and feel-good film, and possibly one of my festival highlights. I’d certainly recommend it strongly.

After the screening I actually had a few hours with nothing scheduled, so I decided to head into the videotheque to check out A Light in the Fog. For those that don’t know, A Light in the Fog is a new Iranian film which had two public screenings and one press screening scheduled at EIFF, and which was actually the film I was most excited about seeing (I had a ticket for the first public screening). Unfortunately, however, the political situation in Iran meant that the print of the film the festival was going to screen couldn’t get out of the country. I checked the EIFF website on a daily basis in the hope that the print would arrive in time for me to see it, but as it wasn’t looking likely I decided to settle for seeing the film in the videotheque. I later found out that the second public screening of the film did go ahead, which was rather frustrating. I heard a lot of great things about the videotheque but I have to say I didn’t enjoy my experience. Quite rightly, press and distributors get priority, but that means that as a filmmaker it took me a long time to get a machine, and when I did it was only under the proviso that I could get kicked off at any time to make way for press or distributors. For an action film that extra sense of anxiety might have been a bonus, but for a film like A Light in the Fog, it was a bit of a killer. To make things worse, the film was low quality, had a logo in one corner, and writing across the screening saying ‘for screening purposes only’. Based on what I saw on the monitors around me, this quality wasn’t typical, but it was annoying. So, obviously these viewing conditions were not ideal for watching a slow art film. But the film’s power was clear all the same. Compared by EIFF to Sokurov, the film called to my mind the works of Tarkovsky and Angelopoulos, not only because of the long takes, but also because of the texture of the images and especially the mist. It had an almost magical quality, and was a breathtaking piece even in the compromised circumstance under which I saw it. The ending was fantastic too, and I would love to see it again in better circumstances. But film distribution being what is I doubt I ever will...

Next up, at 15:00, was the public screening of Black Box Shorts 1. As it happens, the one-to-one that I was able to get after the Film Funding in the UK ended up being slap-bang in the middle of the screening (although it was originally supposed to be between 12:30-13:30!). So after seeing the introduction and the first couple of films (including my own), I rushed out to have my one-to-one meeting. The meeting was with Katherine Butler from Film4, and we discussed my feature project, Life Just Is). Although the project is too microbudget for Film4 to consider (they don’t get involved with anything under £400,000) it was a very worthwhile meeting, and I found Katherine to be a very friendly person. As soon as I was finished with her, I had to rush straight back to the Filmhouse to do the audience Q/A. Having done a few of these things now, I’m starting to get a little more confident, even though I’m generally a little uncomfortable in the spotlight, so to speak. But I think it went well overall and I managed to answer people’s questions in a reasonably successful manner.

With my collaborator Rahim Moledina outside the Filmhouse before our screening.

Our screening was followed by the now obligatory networking up until 19:00, when I headed to the Cameo for the public screening of Lynn Shelton’s Humpday (which picked up the Rotten Tomatoes Critical Consensus Award at the festival). I know I’ve been seen to be a bit biased towards this type of cinema, but I have to say that Humpday is a really great piece of work; as well as being very funny, it also offers a good exploration of friendship, relationships and the nature/creation of art. In the Q/A that followed the screening Shelton described how the project partly came about due to her desire to work with Mark Duplass and I think that he is undeniably a large part of the film’s appeal. In its approach to onscreen relationships and off-screen creative process (as discussed by Shelton), the film reminded me of Duplass’ film The Puffy Chair. Interestingly, Shelton explained the film’s premise was inspired by a filmmaker friend who came to stay with her and, although being straight, couldn’t stop talking about the gay porn that he had seen at real life ‘Humpfest’ (although Shelton didn’t reveal the name of the filmmaker, it should be obvious to anyone who has been keeping half an eye on some her recent acting work...). She then explained that she was drawn to the idea of straight men and gayness. The reason why I find this interesting is that I would not necessarily outline this theme as one of the film’s main ideas. I guess it just proves that the film explores a strong, wide-ranging number of issues. Shelton also spoke about how they tried to make the film believable even though they thought that it was a ridiculous premise to try and make believable. The fact the filmmakers managed to pull off making it believable is testament to the skill of all involved. It really is a strong piece and I hope that it achieves the success that it clearly deserves.

After the Humpday screening, I headed back to the delegate centre for the Short Filmmakers Party, which was actually a bit of a letdown in that it wasn’t particularly well attended and it ended rather early. Still, I met some great people, and that’s what it’s all about.

Day 5: Wednesday 24th June
09:00 and time for the first industry screening of the day: Pontypool, which was a lot of fun, and which offered an interesting spin on the zombie genre along with the best one-liners of the festival (‘We’re going to need a flamethrower!’). In all, it was a bit ridiculous and I’m not sure if it all made logical sense, but it was funny and had a few genuine scares which more than made up for all that. One piece of advice for anyone viewing it – make sure you stay till after the end credits!

11:00 bought the second industry screening of the day: 35 Shots of Rum. For me, there was a lot interesting stuff going on in this film, but it didn’t quite work – I wasn’t fully engaged, and I felt like it suffered from multiple-ending syndrome. There was one scene in the film though – when the characters go to a cafe after their car breaks down in torrential rain – which really was quite extraordinary. Later in the day I caught up with some friends whose opinions I trust, and they really liked the film and made some very interesting points about it, so I think in all I’d like to reserve proper judgement until I see it again.

Next up was the 13:00 public screening of The Wild Angels. It was a solid, well made film with some great moments, but which, for me personally, was actually a bit too nasty to be enjoyable or to recommend; personally I don’t enjoy films which show morally reprehensible behaviour in this sort of casual way and I’m aware it’s a subjective criticism and not an objective comment about the film.

I was due to go and see Gulabi Talkies at 16:00, but I found out at the last minute that I had been given a slot for the ‘Meet The Experts’ event, which involved having a private session with a panel of industry experts to talk about my feature. Although it was a shame to miss the film, the session was worthwhile and I was pleased to have the opportunity.

Next up I got to see the legend that is Roger Corman live in conversation. Unfortunately, the event wasn’t as interesting as it could have been. The talk was conducted by Kim Newman and, although I have a huge amount of admiration and respect for Newman, I don’t think hosting interviews is his strong point. Corman himself was graceful and fascinating but the event contained too many clips which went on for far too long, and overall it didn’t have the appeal that it could have had with a stronger interviewer. Still, Corman did reveal some interesting facts, such as that the reason why he worked so hard and made so many films was simply because he loved it, and how he typically plans 80-90% of his films in advance in order to be able to shoot them so quickly (most were shot in just ten days). He talked about never wasting time on set, even when they’d finished shooting everything they had planned (it was in a spare half hour at the end of the day that he shot the murals in the pit in The Pit and Pendulum). He also revealed that he shot The Masque of the Red Death in England with flats left over from Becket, and talked about how he tries to put a theme or a comment in every film that he does.

After the Corman talk I actually had a bit of spare time, and didn’t know what to do with it – it seems that only having twenty minutes between screenings is vastly preferable to having an hour and a half! Still the film that was after the break was Steven Soderbergh’s The Girlfriend Experience, so it was certainly worth the wait. I thought it was a really interesting, powerful film about human interaction and dependency, but I’m not sure that it was quite the masterpiece I was expecting. I’ve seen it said that Soderbergh wanted to continue in the vein that he started with The Limey, and although the structure of The Girlfriend Experience raises a number of interesting reactions, I think that, as a whole, The Limey works better as a way of using cinematic language to reflect the contours of the human mind. As ever with Soderbergh, the filmmaking itself is impeccable and I look forward to peeling back further layers of the film in subsequent viewings.

The Girlfriend Experience was followed by the DigiCult Party, which was a little too noisy and sweaty for me and the people I was with, so after a while we defected to the Filmhouse. It was a good way to spend my final evening in Edinburgh.

Day 6: Thursday 25th June
I had been hoping to make the 09:00 screening of Black Box Shorts 3, but as it was my final morning I needed to start getting ready to check out and ended up just heading to the Filmhouse for the 10:45 screening of West Point, which was also screening as part of the Black Box strand. The film was a sensual and impressionistic account of two siblings looking back over their lives and the effect of their mother’s murder while they were children. It took an interesting approach to the narrative and I’m sure it’s a film which would be rewarding in subsequent viewings. For some reason it reminded me of Chris Marker’s work, but I’m not sure why. The film played with two shorts and, although one didn’t do much for me, the other – Horse Camp – was the surprise of the festival and, if I dare say it, the film which I liked the most...So, in all, a great end to a great trip!

Edinburgh International Film Festival, Part II

2009-07-01T20:33:00.004+01:00

Please note that this is Part II of a three part post. Part I is here, and Part III is here.

Day 3: Monday 22nd June
Back at Filmhouse for 08:30, and this morning was the only time there was actually a big queue in front of me – it seems like people were really excited about the prospect of seeing Darren Aronofsky in conversation...

First up was the industry screening of Süt at 09:30. The film started with a fantastic opening scene which ranks along my personal festival highlights. Unfortunately, the rest of the film didn’t continue in such a strong manner: the final scene felt especially weak, and I have to admit that I got lost amongst the symbolism along the way. I felt like the film definitely had something, but if I’m honest I’m not sure what...

11:30 bought along the first proper industry event that I attended: Compromise or Commerce? Packaging and Selling Your Project for International Markets. The panel was moderated by Ali Jaafar, and featured Peter Trinh (ICM), Jeremy Barber (United Talent), Samantha Horley (Salt) and Tanya Seghatchian (UKFC). I thought that the session was very interesting, and appreciated the candid honesty of what the panellists had to say. A few key points from the discussion were as follows:
• There are now more films being made than can be distributed, which means that people are paying less for the films that they are buying.
• There is a worldwide market for action movies and thrillers, but dramas are a tough sell and need big names to work. When writing a drama it is important to think about the essentials which make it universal.
• Getting a theatrical release in the US will help the film’s performance in foreign markets.
• Blockbusters are actually doing very badly in US right now, but are doing very well in export. They are not being solely funded by the studios. Private investors have less investment options with their money than they used to, so they are now willing to put cash into films.
• There are going to be fewer buyers in the independent sector and there will be a lot less private money for arthouse films and ‘brave’ work.
• Right now, the European market is strong enough to be able to make a film financially viable without having to target it at the US market. Some films are being made only for the UK market.
• New media and multiplatforming has paralysed the industry as people aren’t yet sure how to make money from it, but it’s clear that the traditional theatrical model will not stay.

Straight from this I rushed to the delegate centre for another industry event: Film Funding in the UK. This event was split into three different panels: ‘National Organisations Funding Film’, ‘Funding from the UK’s Nations’ and ‘Regions and How to Cast Public Funding in your Film’. The first detailed the facts and figures behind what Film4, the UKFC and BBC Films can offer, and also what kind of work they’re looking for (essentially the same for all: director lead projects which stem from a unique vision and contain an individual voice). The second panel did the same, but focusing on each of the regional agencies (best tip: find someone Welsh to work with). The panel also discussed how we need to start thinking regionally with our projects and conceive projects which embody the culture of a specific town or region, so that we can get local funding in exchange for promoting the local culture. There was also talk of the changing distribution models and the need for the industry to adapt to the potentials of new media. As Suzanne Alizart of EM Media rightly stated, we need to see the rules for ‘premieres’ change, because we no longer live in that kind of linear world. In the third discussion, the panellists talked about the ways in which people can use public money in their films. By the time it started the audience had thinned, and it felt like it was the least successful of the three panels, despite the interesting panellists. At the end of the session it was possible to book a one-two-one session with one of the panellists. I gave in my CV and project pitch and found out the following day that I was lucky enough to get one....

Following this event, I spent some time catching up with an Edinburgh-based friend, before heading off to the Cineworld to see Darren Aronofsky In Converstaion at 18:30. At the risk of seeming blasphemous, I want to be upfront about the fact that I have only seen two of his four films (π and Requiem for a Dream) and that I don’t hold either in particularly high regard (so I was very amused when he was introduced as ‘one of the best directors in the world’). Still, I have to admit that the talk was very interesting, and I’ve since purchased a copy of The Fountain to see if I can get into his more recent work. When they showed a clip from π during the talk he said ‘I haven’t seen it for a long time. It’s pretty humiliating’ as soon as it had finished, and then spoke about how he saw Requiem again recently and didn’t recognise the director that he was when he made it. This self-deprecating vein came across as very genuine, and when the interview started he seemed very shy and quiet, though he did warm up as the talk went on. Overall, I thought he was a very unassuming presence, and in fact I heard several stories about people not recognising him during parties and screenings.

One thing he said that struck a chord with me was that ‘If you do your job and you make a good film, there is an audience for it’. As well as talking more specifically about each of his first three films (they didn’t have time to discuss The Wrestler!), he also spoke more generally about certain things; for instance, how he tries to express emotion with the camera, and how every setup has to say something about the story. In short, he sees himself as an impressionist rather than a realist. He believes in the power of collaboration and he is loyal to his collaborators. Everyone involved in π – from the director to the actors to the grips – was on the same percentage, having worked for a stake in the film rather than money. Now that they are in profit everyone gets cheques; something like $1,200 every six months.

He spoke about his opinions on 3D, which I found particularly interesting. Like me, he finds wearing glasses on top of glasses a terrible idea, stating that it ‘sucked’. Overall, he finds the whole thing very annoying, and stated that he thinks it’s a gimmick which doesn’t actually represent the world any better than 35mm. His main reason for this was that both foreground and background elements are sharp, which isn’t like life. He said that he would love to see someone like John Waters do something with it as it has that sort of kitsch value! On a more serious note, he does think that James Cameron will do something amazing with it.

He also spoke a little bit about his time on Batman, stating that he wasn’t that interested in doing it, but worked on it in the hope that it would help him get funding for The Fountain. He was only going to write it and wasn’t going to direct it. Apparently, the version he was working on was even more realistic than what Nolan did with it and it would have featured a ‘duck tape’ Batmobile. Finally, he refused to discuss what he was going to do next, and when someone asked him about Robocop, he claimed not to know what they were talking about...

Next up, at 20:30, was a public screening of Spread, which I thought was perfectly well made, but just not very interesting. It had a strong ending, but up to that point was fairly predictable and uninspiring, while never being less than serviceable.

Finally, the day was rounded off by the Trailerblazers Party. Although I met some great people and had some good conversations, it was essentially a loud, crowded bar, which isn’t really my idea of fun (or Aronofsky’s apparently: he headed off early!).

Click here to read Part III of this three part post.