MICF 2011 review: ONE MAN LORD OF THE RINGS

God knows what the one hapless audience member on Saturday who’d neither read nor seen The Lord of the Rings made of this mad, magnificent performance by Canadian comic Charles Ross, in which he condensed Peter Jackson’s three epic fantasy films (The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and The Return of the King) into a single hour of hilarity, vocal dexterity, and fan-love.

With a judiciously raised eyebrow, a hunched shoulder or a guttural voice, Ross successfully and faithfully evoked the films’ numerous characters and key scenes, while simultaneously mocking the movies’ more ludicrous lines and moments.

Sometimes the humour lay in Ross’s portrayal of a character, such as a running joke about actor Orlando Bloom’s hair; at other times a knowing aside to the audience or a reference to Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’ evoked gales of laughter. Definitely one for the fans, but equally definitely, brilliant.

Five stars

Charles Ross - One Man Lord of the Rings
The Arts Centre, Playhouse
Season concluded

This review originally appeared in The Age on Monday April 11.

More MIFF 2010: ACCELERATOR ONE

ACCELERATOR (Part One)

The Melbourne International Film Festival’s Accelerator initiative is an annual professional development program for emerging filmmakers; an immersive environment providing the invited participants with access to exclusive workshops, seminars and networking opportunities.

The Accelerator program also features two MIFF screenings, in which the short films of the current crop of Accelerator participants are screened to an appreciative audience composed of cast and crew members, industry peers, and the general public.

These screenings are always one of my personal highlights at MIFF, providing an insight into the current state of play of the industry and a look at the early works of (theoretically) notable filmmakers of the future. Unfortunately I only made it to one Accelerator screening this year, but it was definitely a rewarding experience.

PINION

A haunting period piece written, directed and produced by VCA student Asuka Sylvie, and focussing on Lloyd, a young boy suffering from a mysterious ailment whose family have shipped him off to a remote medical facility (Barwon Park, an imposing, 42-room bluestone mansion near Winchelsea that was completed in 1871 and is managed by the National Trust). The existence of a graveyard on the house’s grounds suggests that not all the patients admitted to the clinic leave. This short drama’s gothic tone and mysterious storyline were unfortunately undercut by a title and script which telegraphed the mystery far too soon, and by some poor CGI at the conclusion.

THE MYSTERY OF FLYING KICKS

Director Matthew Bate’s cut and paste style-documentary about the tantalising presence of sneakers hanging from the powerlines of seemingly every major city in the world, crowd-sourced its content to great effect. Interviews and footage provided by contributors from around the globe combined in a witty collage of words and images that posed questions about art, culture, crime and philosophy. Visually and aurally striking, and extremely entertaining: a well-deserved winner of the festival’s award for Best Documentary Short Film.

FATSO

From screenplay writer and director Irina Goundortseva comes this wordless, bittersweet comedy about an overweight lift attendant looking for companionship in all the wrong places. Though charming, the brief story doesn’t really go anywhere: it feels more like an opening chapter in a larger story rather than a self-contained piece of cinema. Nonetheless, the luminous cinematography and stylish direction ensured that I enjoyed the ride.

MANUREWA

If Robert Altman were to shoot a film based on the real life shooting of a bottle shop attendant in Manurewa, one of the southernmost suburbs of Auckland, New Zealand, it probably wouldn’t be too far removed from this short, tense drama by director Sam Peacocke. As the film unfolds we are introduced to a diverse cast of characters, including a young mother worshipping at a Sikh temple, whose husband is one of two Indian brothers working in Manurewa’s bottle shop; a Maori teenager, his violent older brother and his brother’s friends; two ambos; two police officers; and a group of bored young Maori women. Over 19 minutes their paths slowly cross, to shocking effect. While not especially original, there is real power to this film, thanks in part to its superb cinematography, naturalistic performances, taut editing and accomplished direction.

OUT IN THAT DEEP BLUE SEA

This short drama by Canadian writer/director Kazik Radwanski is a claustrophobic, composite look at the malcontented life of a middle-aged real estate agent. Extreme close ups give a sense of the choking mundanity of the subject’s life, but isolation and despair are not enough to make a memorable film, and despite its technical prowess, Out in the Deep Blue Sea left me largely unengaged.

FRANSWA SHARL

My favourite film of this package, writer/director Hannah Hilliard’s colourful coming of age story generated real and remarkable tension in telling the story of 12 year old Greg Logan’s (Callan McAuliffe) struggle to win his overly competitive father’s affection and support. Set on a family holiday in Fiji in 1980, this witty ‘coming out’ drama won the MIFF’s Erwin Rado Award for Best Australian Short Film, and deservedly so. Rarely has drag ever been as entertaining!

DEEPER THAN YESTERDAY

The final film of this first Accelerator package was former VCA student Ariel Kleiman’s Russian submarine drama, Deeper Than Yesterday, which has already screened at Cannes this year as well as been nominated for an AFI award; so it was eagerly anticipated by many in the audience – though apparently not whoever was looking after the house lights, which were briefly turned on – and thankfully off again – before the film started.

Filmed on and in a privately owned, decommissioned submarine docked near Hastings VIC, the film focuses on a group of Russian submariners who have been submerged for three months, and whose sanity and humanity is slowly ebbing away. Its combination of claustrophobia, violence and misogyny made for uncomfortable viewing, but despite its technical prowess, dramatically I found the film less than compelling – an impression compounded by continuity errors which saw the deck of the submarine bone dry in a scene set only moments after it had supposedly resurfaced.

More from the MQFF

I've only seen nine sessions at the Melbourne Queer Film Festival so far this year, which is pretty poor by my usual standards. There were a couple more sessions today that I wanted to see, but ironically I missed out on them as I've been sitting in front of the computer all day writing reviews (my first Comedy Festival piece for The Age this morning, followed by several other reviews for this here blog this afternoon). I may as well continue in that vein, with a brief summary of the remaining sessions I've attended. Hopefully I get to see at least one more film tomorrow, before the Comedy Festival eats my life...

SHORT FILMS

I've seen three short film packages this year: Sex Drives and Videotape, a selection of edgy gay shorts exploring fetishes and the dark side of sexual desire; another collection of gay shorts, Short & Burly, and the lesbian shorts selection, Short & Girly. As always, an ecclectic range of films, none of them bad (in my opinion) but only a couple that were truly memorable.

Highlights included the wry American animation Numerology (dir. Paula Durette) which playfully mocked lesbian relationships through the mystic art of numerology; another animation, from Canada, The Island (dir. Trevor Anderson), inspired by a hateful email; and two films about sex and violence, the confronting Weak Species (dir. Dan Faltz, USA, 2009), and the meditative and murderous Heiko (dir. David Bonneville, Portugal, 2007).

My favourite short film though, was Second Guessing Grandma (dir. Bob Giraldi, USA, 2008), an emotionally engaging and surprisingly touching story about coming out to an elderly relative.

THE FISH CHILD
(Dir. Lucia Puenzo, France/Spain, 2008)

Set in Argentina and Paraguay, this new film from the director of lauded intersex drama XXY (which screened as the closing night film at the MQFF in 2008) was a heady mix of crime drama, lesbian love story, class structure critique and magic realism. From a fractured, multi-linear beginning featuring flashbacks a-plenty, the film gradually coallesces into a love story between the privileged young Lala (Inés Efron, who also played the lead in XXY) and Ailin (singer Mariela Vitale Emme in her screen debut). When Lala's father, a judge, is murdered, she flees to Ailin's village in Paraguay, while Ailin herself is arrested. Returning to take the rap and set her lover free, Lala is drawn into a web of corruption and exploitation, with devestating results.

The Fish Child is not as solid a film as Puenzo's remarkable debut feature, lacking the emotional impact of XXY, but it is still beautifully crafted and exquisitely shot, with excellent performances from all the cast. The storyline, with its turbulent mix of robbery, murder, incest and more, strains belief, so that one never quite believes the relationship which holds the story together. It was, nonetheless, an intellectually engaging cinematic experience.

Rating: Three stars

Next up was another feature, one I'd already seen but which I was keen to see again, and I wasn't disappointed. It held up extremely well the second time around, proving just as emotionally engaging as I remembered it - but rather than write a brand new review, here's what I said about it last year, when I reviewed the film for Arts Hub.

THE MAN WHO LOVED YNGVE
(Dir.Stian Kristiansen, Sweden, 2008)

This excellent Norwegian drama, directed by Stian Kristiansen and based on the acclaimed young adult novel by Tore Renberg, proves that there is life yet in that relatively tired queer film genre, the ‘coming out’ story.

Set in 1989, and opening with a direct-to-camera monologue that quickly establishes the light and engaging tone of the film, The Man Who Loved Yngve centres on Jarle Klepp (Rolf Kristian Larsen), a bored teenager living in Norway’s oil capital, Stavanger, who finds a new friend in fellow punk rock fan Helge (Arthur Berning). The pair form a band with a third friend, Andreas (Knut Sverdrup Kleppestø); and Jarle soon finds himself with a new girlfriend, the frank and fascinating Cathrine (Ida Elise Broch), as well as an important upcoming gig. But the arrival of a new student, Yngve (Ole Christoffer Ertvåg) disrupts Jarle’s life and forces him to reconsider everything he knows – or thinks he knows – about himself and his world.

Over its 90 minute running time, the film captures the highs and lows, the turmoil and the intensity of Jarle’s world, from his awkward and sometimes angry discussions with his separated parents, to his rapid infatuation with Yngve and all he represents.

Featuring charming performances from some of Norway’s best young actors, and incisive direction from newcomer Stian Kristiansen (who was still studying at Sweden’s National Film School in Lillehammer at the time he was appointed to helm the production) The Man Who Loved Yngve avoids clichés and sentimentality while telling a fresh and authentic story about adolescent life. Characters are appropriately inarticulate, avoiding the faux-adult teenage dialogue depicted in such staples of US drama as Dawson’s Creek, The OC and more recent productions such as Gossip Girl; and the pangs and pains of adult life are fleetingly though accurately portrayed.

Important alternative bands of the era – Joy Division, The Cure, The Jesus and Mary Chain – pepper the soundtrack, further establishing the period in which the film is set but also providing insights into the characters’ emotions, such as a scene in which a pensive Jarle lies on his bed as The Buzzcocks’ ‘Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve)’ plays in the background.

The contrast between Jarle (an endearingly goofy, outgoing redhead who listens to bands like The Clash and Einstürzende Neubauten) and Yngve (a shy, blonde, tennis-playing fan of synth-pop and New Wave bands like Japan) couldn’t be more pronounced, but as the film unfolds the undeniable attraction between the two youths plays out with all-too-believable consequences. Especially welcome was the film’s refusal to resort to cliché, and the filmmakers’ decision not to pigeonhole Jarle’s sexuality: too many coming out films focus purely on gay life and gay desire, whereas films acknowledging bisexual identity are rare.

Having won the Best Feature award at the Seattle Lesbian and Gay Film Festival in October 2009, as well as two Amanda Awards (Best Children’s or Youth Film, and Best Direction) at the 2009 Norwegian International Film Festival earlier in the year, The Man Who Loved Yngve marks Stian Kristiansen as a major talent to watch.

Rating: Four and a half stars

Good things come in Sevens

I've been spoiled for entertainment over the last week.

Last Friday was the opening night The Ballad of Backbone Joe, the latest but all-to-briefly showing production by The Suitcase Royale at the Arts House Meat Market, North Melbourne.

A clever combination of film noir and Fisher's Ghost, it was another fine example of the Suitcase boys' 'junkyard theatre' aesthetic, and a wonderfully entertaining show, though to my mind it felt a little undercooked - something I also felt about their Chronicles of a Sleepless Moon when I saw its first incarnation at the 2006 Next Wave Festival, mind you.

Given time, and fine-tuning, I have no doubts Backbone Joe - a rib-tickling tale of boxing and butchery - will reach similar heights of success. It already has the same quotient of unhinged tomfoolery!

On Monday night I saw a preview of the new Australian film by director Jonathan Auf Der Heide, Van Diemen's Land, a beautifully rendered story about terrible events inspired by the confessions of Irish-born convict and cannibal Alexander Pearce. I'll be reviewing the film in more detail in the coming days, but suffice to say I highly recommend it, as does fellow blogger Alison Croggon, whose thoughts about it you can read here.

Yesterday I saw another film, the new feature from director Ang Lee, Finding Woodstock, a gentle comedy about the people behind the scenes of 1969's muddy memorial to peace, love and live music. Again, I'll review it in more detail in the coming days, and again again, I very much liked it - certainly much more than I expected to!

Tonight, I saw TRACES, only the second work from Canadian circus company Les 7 Doigts De La Main (The 7 Fingers), and an absolute gem. It's showing in Melbourne at the Comedy Theatre until August 29, and I highly recommend you check it out.

The last Canadian circus company I saw left me with a bad taste in my mouth, and yes, I'm talking about Cirque du Soleil and their show Dralion, which struck me as pompous, decadent, overblown and soulless.

The 7 Fingers are altogether different. The five young performers in TRACES are vibrant, exuberant, sexy and audacious; and their show is an exciting blend of contemporary circus arts, street skills, parkour and passion, set to a thumping soundtrack ranging from rock to drum'n'bass, including tracks by Vast, Radiohead and Nitin Sawhney.

In a makeshift shelter, five young people shelter from an impending catastrophe, defying the oncoming storm by fighting, loving and living life to the full. Inventive video and projection work enrich the versatile quintet's performances, which range from an exhilarating sequence based around two Chinese Poles and a bravura teeterboard act, to piano playing, hoop diving, a memorable skateboarding sequence seemingly inspired by Esther Williams' synchronised swimming routines, and a visceral and exciting German Wheel routine set to an folk-punk soundtrack (something akin to Dropkick Murphys, though it was probably a different band of a similar ilk).

Boasting a playfully 21st century approach to sexuality and an enviable physicality, The 7 Fingers' TRACES is one of the most satisfying and exciting circus shows it's ever been my pleasure to witness. Bravo!

MQFF diary Part the Third

Like Cocktales, which I saw a few days ago, Short & Burly, is a collection of of gay-themed short films from around the world; and is definitely the stronger of the two packages.

First up was Grímur Hákonarson's Wrestling (aka Brædrabylta, literally 'Brother Tumble', a word from the vocabulary of 'glima', as Icelandic wrestling is known, which describes a move in which both contenders fall to the ground and no one wins). This subtle, sombre film tells the story of two wrestlers living in rural Iceland who are struggling with their love for one another. Denni (Halldór Gylfason) gives Elnar (Björn Ingi Hilmarsson) an ultimatum: leave your wife or our secretive relationship is over. But Denni, who lives with his elderly and infirm mother, has problems of his own. Beautifully lensed and featuring excellent performances, as well as a haunting soundtrack by Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson, Wrestling uses silence and open space to great effect. Masterful and beautiful.

A Scandinavian comedy about the Greek diaspora directed by Nicolas Kolovos, I Am Gay (Jag Äm Bög) is a vividly realised film focusing on Nicolas, a gay man contemplating coming out to his conservative migrant family over dinner. How will his father, his dotting but highly-strung mother, and his yob of a brother react to the news? In a succession of entertaining dream sequences, Nicolas imagines the consequences to his announcement, washing down his thoughts with glass after glass of wine.

Matchstick (Drvce od kibrit) directed by Tony Radevski, is an Australian film that continues Radevski's exploration of the tensions that arise when sexuality and Macedonian culture collide, albeit in a tangential way. Shot in a distinctive style which some viewers found abrasive but which I found compelling, Matchstick explores the impact of childhood sexual abuse through the figure of a man who is literally haunted by his past. Claustrophobic and compelling.

Next up was the Canadian short film Hirsuite, written and directed by A. J. Bond, who also stars as the film's lead - twice. It's rare to see a gay science fiction film, and rarer still to see one that so deftly engages with the paradoxes of time travel. While feverishly working out the complex equations which will enable him to make a time machine, Kyle (Bond) is visited by a future version of himself; a Kyle who is cooler, more stylish and considerably less kind - as well as much less hairy. An imaginative set decorated with post-it notes and billowing sheets of butcher's paper covered in in countless scrawled equations; strong performances; and a thought-provoking plot exploring the way one's actions at a specific moment can cause history can branch off in unexpected directions; add up to a richly rewarding and enjoyable short film.

Writer/director Josh Kim's delightful drama The Postcard concerns two female post office workers competing for the attentions of a handsome young customer who is conducting a subtle flirtation with his postman via a series of postcards. Lushly shot on 35mm before being transferred to digital video, The Postcard is an elegant-looking and beautifully paced comedy of errors, and thoroughly enjoyable.

Last up was US comedy Mano-a-Mano, a lighthearted look at the gay phone sex industry from the perspective of two competitive straight men who are desperate for the one job that's available. Compact and entertaining, it wrapped up Short & Burly on a light note.


Find Part the First of my MQFF journal here, and Part the Second here. Additional MQFF reviews can be read here, and also on Twittter by following rperdio and walypala. Alternatively just go to Twitter and search for 'MQFF'.

MQFF reviews: Breakfast with Scot

Good grief, where has the last week gone? It seems like only a day or two ago I was stepping out for the opening night of the Melbourne Queer Film Festival (MQFF), and now it's already the final day of the festival, with closing night festivities tonight.

And instead of visiting the festival almost daily, I've barely seen anything this year; a shocking turn of events caused by a combination of going away to Golden Plains last weekend, and being stupidly busy at work the week just gone. That said, I have managed to watch preview copies of quite a few of the films on offer at the festival this year. Here are my impressions of what I've seen so far...

Breakfast with Scot (Candada, 2007) was the opening night feature at this year's MQFF, and sadly, a return to the poor form of most of the festival's opening nights, which tend to feature a light, feel-good movie rather than a good movie. It didn't help this year that the expected 35mm print of the feature didn't arrive, meaning that a digital beta copy had to be screened instead; a situation which hardly took advantage of the Astor Theatre's sizeable screen.

Based on the novel by Michael Downing, and directed by Laurie Lynd from a screenplay by Sean Reycraft, Breakfast with Scot is a slight, trite story of rainbow families, acceptance and understanding.

Tom Cavanagh (best known as the title character of the TV series Ed) is Eric McNally, a retired pro hockey player turned closeted TV sports commentator. Tom lives with his lawyer partner, Sam (Ben Shenkman), who unexpectedly becomes the legal guardian of his brother’s flamboyant young stepson, Scot (Noah Bernett), a primary school kid with a fondness for make-up, feather boas and kissing boys. Not surprisingly, Scot's arrival throws the men’s lives into disarray. Cue Tom's mistaken efforts to butch the kid up a little, a ploy which risks breaking Scot's spirit, and which leads to the film's main message: individuality is a good thing. Duh. It's a hackneyed message delivered with all the subtlety of a kick in the balls.Worse, in the film's final act, Scot's no-good dad, Billy, appears on the scene, prompting a predictable, cloying ending.

Performances - save for young Noah Bernett - were stiff and forced, while characterisation of the gay male leads was severly lacking. We get that Tom is uptight and closeted, but their relationship as portrayed in this film was the most loveless, un-physical pairing I've seen portrayed on screen in a hell of a long time.

Aiming for endearing, too often, Breakfast with Scot was simply trying. Its comedic elements were unfunny, its emotional elements blunted, and its blandly commercial approach to storytelling has resulted in a film lacking zest, wit or originality. Yawn. Next?

Two stars out of five

Musical orgasm

Words cannot suffice to say how sublimely, life-affirmingly, head-explodingly good Arcade Fire were last night. If the sound mix had actually been perfect, as opposed to messy for the first six or seven songs, I do believe I may actually have either a) died or b) achieved orgasm via the sheer skill, enthusiasm, artistry and wonderfulness of the 10 talented people on stage.

Thanks for the ticket, Ms Sam - I so owe you one!

Review: THIS IS ENGLAND and SNOW CAKE

Two films in as many nights on Sunday and Monday; who needs a film festival for a satisfyingly cinematic time?

Sunday I caught This is England, UK director Shane Meadows' new film about a skinhead gang being infiltrated by the National Front, at Carlton's Cinema Nova. It must be said that I'm not a huge fan of the Nova, having had too many film experiences ruined by poor projection; but on Sunday night, in the company of an Irish ex-bootboy, and a gay Singaporean skinhead, I had no problems whatsover - save for the fuckwit sitting one row in front of me who decided to send someone a text message during the film's climax. Aaarrgh!

This is England focuses on 12 year old Shaun (a superb performance by young Thomas Turgoose), whose father has recently died in the Falklands War. Adopted by a local skinhead gang led by the likeable Woody (Joseph Gilgun), Shaun is caught at the crossroads when the much older Combo (Stephen Graham) appears on the scene. Recently released from jail, the charismatic Combo is a violent racist, and has soon split the gang in two. Shaun, looking for a father-figure, trails along with Combo and his thuggish friends, with tragic results.

This is England is influenced by Meadows' own experiences, and set firmly in the early 80s, prior to which skins were very much a working class youth subculture, not the violent racists they are generally perceived as today. Performances are strong throughout; especially Graham's turn as Combo, which makes us empathise with the character's emotional pain even as his deeds sicken us.

The use of archival footage to set the scene of the depressed English Midlands in 1983 is restrained but effective; as is the use of period music. Cinematography, too, is used to strong advantage to simultaneously convey Combo's dangerous mental state and his very real bond with Shaun, the fatherless boy he's taken under his (broken) wing.

It's a surprisingly endearing and humorous film, as typified by a scene in a greasy cafe where the gang are confronted by Shaun's simultaneously angry and warm mother; but nor does Meadows shy away from the ugly side of his story. Children and threatened and a shop owner is terrorised as Combo's gang spread their racist wings, and the climax, when it comes, is as shocking as it is revelatory. At no point does Meadows resort to stereotypes, and even the minor characters are well-rounded and well played.

It's also worth noting that a touching coda at the conclusion of the film adds a hopeful note, suggesting that Shaun might yet reject the racist indocrination he has received, and find a gentler path in life.

This is England is Meadows' best film to date, and highly recommended.


Then, last night, I caught up with an old friend, Chiara (who first introduced me to The Sisters of Mercy, among other things) for a screening of the Canadian-UK co-production, Snow Cake.

This simple, strangely satisfying film tells the story of Alex (Alan Rickman), recently released from prison and now traumatised after the death of a young girl in a road accident; and his developing friendship with the dead girl's mother, Linda (Sigourney Weaver), a highly-functioning autistic.

This could have been awful; a sacharine, cloying film; and indeed there were parts of it that I found predictable and trite. That said, it constantly reduced me to tears which never felt the result of being manipulated.

Yes, Weaver's performance as Linda is straight out of the Hollywood guide to playing the mentally disabled; she grimaces and waves her hands in the air with glee, but despite being sometimes heavy-handed she also finds an emotional truth to the character that makes her strangely convincing all the while.

Yes, the film's central concept - the world-weary healed by an encounter with the child-like - borders on the banal. But I still liked it.

Rickman's character is a total misanthrope. "I don't have baggage," he remarks at one point. "I have haulage." His slow thawing (shown literally, in one heavy-handed moment, by a shot of melting ice; an irritating error from director Marc Evans, who at other times uses similarly lyrical moments well) is nonetheless believeable, partially because the character of Linda is never whitewashed; she's not a saint, and together, the two actors work wonderfully together. The score by Canada's Broken Social Scene also goes a long way to making the film work; it never resorts to swelling strings to tug at your heart.

For the most part restrained, yet deeply affecting, Snow Cake had me wiping away tears constantly. Recommended for the less cynical; others will find it cloyingly sentimental, I'm sure, as evidenced by this review in UK paper The Guardian, whose quiet vitriol I couldn't help but enjoy.

THIS IS ENGLAND: Three and a half stars
SNOW CAKE: Three and a half stars