Five Again Take Three.

Take Three of about a million and a half, at this rate. I've watched four more films since the last one, so I'm not really getting far ahead...

This was unexpected. I've watched most of David Lynch's films (with Eraserhead coming up, it leaves Inland Empire and Dune as the only two features left - I finished reading Dune a month or two ago, so I'll have to hit that up some time.) Known for his crazy, dense, almost incomprehensible films, The Straight Story was a blast from left-field for Lynch, being, as it were, a straight story. Simply, it is the story of Alvin Straight, an old man who travels six weeks on a ride-on lawnmower to visit his dying estranged brother. Going blind and with only minor use of his legs, it is a heartwarming story of tenacity and family, and the personal rewards that come from doing something everyone says you can't. Richard Farnsworth was Academy Award nominated for his role, and was backed up very well by Sissy Spacek as his mentally disabled but very bright and caring daughter. A beautiful story well told, and a surprising entry into David Lynch's catalogue, further cementing his 'great' status. 4 stars.

The DVD for Brighton Rock was another floating around the living room when I didn't have anything to watch, and I'd heard something about the remake in the preceding few days, so I thought I'd check it out. And it was quite good. A very young Richard Attenborough takes on the lead role of Pinkie in this inter-war crime film set in the eponymous English seaside town of Brighton. Pinkie is the precocious leader of his gang, showing very little fear in the face of anything that comes his way, who marries beautiful waitress Rose (Carol Marsh) to keep her quiet. As he starts to lose his grip on his gang and on the Brighton scene, he becomes more and more desperate and violent. Attenborough is terrifying in his role, precipitating a long and fruitful career both in front of and behind the camera. The remake (or should I say readaptation of Graham Greene's source novel) doesn't seem to be getting the same props as this 1947 production, so it's well worth checking out. 4 stars.



Ah, Harmony Korine and Lars von Trier. Dogme 95 was previously explored here, and looked at Korine here. Korine (uncredited) was writer and director on Julien Donkey Boy, the sixth entry in the Dogme 95 movement, about a severely dysfunctional family comprised of undiagnosed schizophrenic Julien (Ewen Bremner), his sister Pearl (Chloe Sevigny) who is also carrying Julien's child, his brother Chris (Evan Neumann) and deranged father (Werner Herzog - brilliant.) It's a wholly disturbing film complete with the Dogme look of verging-on-amateur, though the gravity of the story and depth of the performances ensures you're never fooled into believing this is anything but the real thing. Korine has a way of making films that are quite physically unsettling, and I find them often quite hard to sit through, though that isn't to take away from the power of his stories. 3 stars.

1969 - what a year. Costa-Gavras' Z powered into the Oscars with five nominations, including for both Foreign Language Film and Best Picture, taking home both the former and Best Editing. A not-so-subtle indictment of the Greek government at the time (though officially a work of fiction, I believe, with a starting disclaimer that any resemblance to real life is entirely deliberate), the film examines judicial and governmental moves to silence a burgeoning leftist movement in the unnamed country (again, definitely meant to be Greece, though the film was primarily shot in Algiers and is in French...) It's a brilliant piece of filmmaking, throttling the viewer with its viewpoint and forcing your engagement every step of the way. I'm not familiar with the rest of Gavras' work, but I'm definitely keen to rectify that. 5 stars.

In my head, 24 Hour Party People was a totally different film. I can't think now of what I was getting it confused with, but it certainly wasn't what I watched, which is why I put it off for so long. The story of the Manchester club and music scene in the late 80s and early 90s, the film primarily focuses on Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan), a journalist who becomes a budding promoter and club owner, brought up and down by his own hedonistic decadence and belief in himself, at the same time seeming to compromise the very vision he pioneered and propagated. Looking also at the rise and fall of bands such as Joy Division, Happy Mondays and New Order, it is a fascinating and very entertaining look at this time, filled with frequent fourth wall breakages to insert actual memories and commentary on the time. Director Michael Winterbottom and writer Frank Cottrell Boyce both work splendidly to create this masterful biopic of an era, as told through one man. 4.5 stars.

Long Time...

Right, a few things have happened. I've moved to Berlin. It had been in the cards, but it then all became concrete in a very short space of time, and then I left, and then I had to find a place to live, and now I have and I'm in Berlin and I love Berlin and I am only here for a couple of months so I'm going to try and make the most of it. Of course, I love films, so they are going to keep popping up, but there's no way I'm going to hit my target of 365 over a year - I'll be very lucky to hit 270 I think. Still, a good effort considering.


I'm also way behind on writeups, so I'm going to give some very brief notes on all of those that I'm behind on over the next few entries, spreading them out a little.


First things first:

I'd never seen Oliver Stone's Wall Street until recently. Never. It had always kind of drifted around wanting me to watch it, always there hovering somewhere in the middle of the list of titles I want to pick up. Probably due to the recent release of the sequel I finally got it out. I gotta say, I didn't overly love it. Michael Douglas' performance in it was fine, but even that didn't really wow me. Strong, yes, but not mind-blowing. Some good moments, the 'greed' speech being obvious, but I've never much liked Charlie Sheen either. That phone of Gordon's is hilarious. And sure, it was entertaining enough, towards the lower level of enjoyment. Let's go with 2 stars.

I saw Inception right when it came out in the UK (that's how far behind I was to start, and then the last almost month in Berlin has taken even further behind...) and came out of it really, really liking it. Visually amazing, though goddammit I want to see Leonardo DiCaprio smile at some stage soon - after Shutter Island and then this I'm so tired of his furrowed brow, and I know he can do other things. Joseph Gordon Levitt (future husband) I loved, but I'll love him in pretty much anything, and Tom Hardy gave his character a difference to what one might imagine for his Hollywood breakout - his Bronson promise will hopefully come good. I thought the film as a whole was very cerebral, very clever, but lacked an emotional core. I sense that the Marion Cotillard segments were aiming for it, but I don't think Christopher Nolan managed to pull that off. Now that I think about it, his films always seem a little detached from the heart. It is a terrific film, a very showy piece that doesn't go over the top, and what it does show, it shows well. I don't understand how people found it confusing - if you're paying even half the attention any film deserves, they spell it out pretty clearly as to which dream layer you're in. Very good, but not great, and a couple of months on my desire to rewatch that was very strong after exiting the theatre has become a general feeling that it's not necessary for me to go there again any time soon. Very entertaining, but not earth-shattering. 4 stars.

I was alive in the 1980s, but only just, and I've never much liked the period. It's only recently that the fashion, the music, the general vibe of the decade hasn't grated on me, so I'm putting the blame for having never seen The Breakfast Club right in the court of the 80s in general. John Hughes' seminal teen flick starring Emilio Estevez, Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwals and Ally Sheedy was fun to watch with its broad characterisations and strong stereotypes. As a basic introduction to cliques and generalised judgements of character it works well by keeping it light while introducing us to the characters. Maybe if my viewing of it had been more timely, instead of twenty-five years after the initial release, my opinion would be different. Maybe if I sat down and laughed and watched it with friends I'd have enjoyed it more. That being said, it was fun, but it's not in my own personal canon. 2.5 stars.

Melissa Leo gives a tour de force performance in Courtney Hunt's debut feature Frozen River, which won the Dramatic Prize at Sundance in 2008 and netted Leo a deserved Oscar nomination for Best Actress. Leo is single mother trying to get together the money to pay for her new double wide before the cut off date when she loses her deposit when luck finds her united with a native American people smuggler. On the border of the US and Canadia, the pair take people back and forth between two reservations on opposite sides of the frozen river that is the national border. It's a marvelous story of what two different women will do for their children in very different circumstances. I wasn't a huge fan of the ending, it all felt a little 'righteous Hollywood', but there's no denying the power of Leo's performance. Hunt is surely someone to watch. 3 stars.

When I saw that Caligula was the next film on my list I did kind of laugh out loud. This film is a fucking mess, but a brilliant and hilarious mess nonetheless. It was only after the fact that I realised there are about a trillion different cuts out there, and I saw the tamest, shortest one. I'm half inspired to go and find the original 7000 minute version or whatever, but then I also remember how bad this was, and despite the camp hilarity, do I really want to do that again? Though the cast is terrific - Peter O'Toole, Malcolm McDowell, Helen Mirren, John Gielgud - it is a ham-fisted mess, apparently directed by Tinto Brass though with financing from Penthouse's Bob Guccione really directing the themes of the film and what goes on screen. Caligula is the young heir to the Roman throne, and after doing away with his predecessor takes over, becoming quite popular despite his eccentricities. There's a bunch of debauchery involved. There is incest and intrigue and coercion, and finally Caligula is murdered. It really is a terrible film, but so terrible as to be almost entirely watchable. I will one day hunt down the longer version. 1 star.

Her Majesty's Most Expensive Prisoner.

People know Tom Hardy now because of the fact the he called my future husband 'darling' in Inception, but a few years ago he made a film that was in the World competition at Sundance and won the 2009 Sydney Film Prize. He took on the fearsome role of the notorious British criminal Charles Bronson (born Michael Peterson), putting on something like 20kgs and spending much of his time fighting, and much of that naked. It's a fearsome breakout role, played stunningly by our English friend (whose first two screen credits are for Band of Brothers and Black Hawk Down - not bad debut roles, huh? Apparently he's also taking on the Max role in the new Mad Max film.)

Bronson (the character in the film of the same name) was a brawler from a young age - he is shown fighting as a young boy at school, wielding desks as weapons. Not long after marriage he robs a post office and is sentenced to a rather sever seven years in jail. But while there he begins to treat it as a hotel, and decides to fight with the guards every night. He is shifted from prison to prison, then to a psychiatric hospital where is kept drugged, but finally plots his return to a normal prison by strangling a man who confesses being a pedophile. After arriving at Broadmoor Psychiatric Hospital, a high-security facility, he manages to start a riot, ending up holing himself up on the roof, earning himself the title of this entry.


Paroled (for some unknown reason...) he moves back with his parents and takes up bare knuckle fighting for money - do what you're good at, right? He falls for a girl, who isn't interested in him in a serious way, and robs a jewellery store for an engagement ring. This constitutes a violation of his parole, and he is sent back to prison, where his violent outbursts become more and more creative, leading to extension after extension on his term. He is beaten, constantly in solitary confinement (he is apparently most renowned for having spent the majority of his life in solitary, in fact), but he seems to revel in every moment of it. This is what he wants - and this is how he gains the fame and notoriety he has always craved.


Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn (who is apparently responsible for the Pusher trilogy, though I have no idea what that is... should I?) also co-wrote the screenplay, placing Bronson on a stage, performing to an audience, as his narration. Bronson always wanted to be famous, but didn't have the normal entertainer skills - Refn gives him those skills in his biopic, channelled through Hardy's brilliant performance. Hardy, for his part, entirely inhabits his character. I don't recall seeing him in other roles (though I must have), but I don't think it would matter - truly, his appearance is terrifying and his character is appalling. But his performance, with Refn's script, gives him humour, and depth, and emotion. Yes, he probably deserves all of the beatings he gets, but it is a cry for attention, and one wonders how the prison system can function with abuse like that as rampant as it is portrayed. Maybe there is creative license - but maybe not.


The film was quite indie, and I'm certain a lot of criticism must have been levelled against it for glorifying the life of a criminal, especially one as violent as him - similar criticisms were levelled against Chopper back in the day. But Bronson, as sympathetic as you may feel towards him at times, is never shown as anything other than the masochistic monster that he is. Just because you can laugh with him doesn't mean he isn't a monster. It just means he's a funny monster. You still want to keep him well away from your children. 4 stars.

Maybe I'll Just Sit Here And Bleed At You.

I think I made it quite clear here that I am in love with Joseph Gordon-Levitt and shall gladly have his babies should the need arise. So, back when Brick released in 2006 in Australia, but a year after I'd rediscovered him in all his glory in Mysterious Skin, it should be no surprise that I was right there waiting. It didn't hurt that the film came with a fair amount of buzz as an acclaimed debut by Rian Johnson, neo-noir, winner of a Special Jury Prize at Sundance for originality of vision. One is entitled to have some degree of expectation when confronted with this information.

Gordon-Levitt plays Brendan, a high schooler caught up in a world of drugs, death and intrigue. With word-play the name of the game in Johnson's inventive screenplay, the story moves along at a cracking pace as Brendan uses his friend The Brain (Matt O'Leary) to decode a cryptic phone call from ex-girlfriend Emily (Emilie de Ravin), leading him towards the clutches of Laura (Nora Zehetner) and into the world of The Pin (Lukas Haas.) Striking a deal with the assistant vice-principal to provide inside information gives him some degree of freedom of movement and ability to break the rules with immunity, allowing him deep inside the juvenile crime world run by The Pin (whose mother is all too happy to serve up milk and cookies to bleeding boys sitting at his table) in order that he may discover who is responsible for the body of Emily found in a drain.


Johnson's winning formula in Brick takes the tried and tested film noir idea and transplants it into the world of adolescents. The seriousness of the performance is tempered by the comedy of the situation - seriously, guys, you're at school. Yes, someone has died, but I'm fairly certain there is little you can do. But it works, because of Johnson's ability to bring it all together, to make you believe, with his words and his characters. And to think he made this on less than USD$500,000 is incredible - I just found this out, and I'm fairly gobsmacked.


Huge credit has to go to Johnson. He really did make this all work, and very, very well. Nathan Johnson (Rian's brother) scored the film, his first scoring effort, apparently achieving the majority over iChat whilst he was in London. Cinematographer Steve Yedlin did a stellar job, especially considering the constraints having absolutely no money can put on someone in that role. A cast and crew with experience ranging from much to not much at all combined under Johnson to make something quite unique, and very entertaining. Definitely a recommended watch. 4 stars.

That Scag And His Floozie, They're Gonna Die!

Man, scag is totally a word I have to introduce into my vocabulary.


A few years there was a terrific little Australian documentary called Not Quite Hollywood that looked at a particular period of Australian film apparently loved by Quentin Tarantino dubbed 'Ozploitation.' They were made in the days of the 10BA tax break for feature film investment, which, if my understanding of it is even vaguely correct, meant that you were almost guaranteed not to lose money on a film even approaching halfway decent - so long as it made some money at the box office you would probably come out even, bailed out by the tax office. So, with nothing to lose and the chance, even an outside chance, at a bunch of money rolling in, who wouldn't join in? And what happened was this movement of cheap films full of action and sex, many of which have been subsequently forgotten (most of them probably rightly so), but some of which have gone on to become enduring cinematic classics. Even if they were redubbed in the States so that the Australian accent wouldn't be heard, with much of the slang reworded, and with the original soundtrack not appearing Stateside until 2000.

I guess he does look pretty good in leather...

Mad Max was the debut feature from director George Miller (that's Dr George, to you), now an Oscar winner (and I honestly believe he is the only Ozploitation director with that claim to fame.) Conceived and written with the late Byron Kennedy, the film also helped to launch some American born but Australian trained actor, perhaps the only other direct descendant of the Ozploitation movement with Oscar on his mantle. You've probably heard of him, he's been back in the spotlight recently (though mostly for anti-semitism and domestic violence...) 


Mel Gibson plays the titular Max, a highway patrolman in the not too distant future of the Australian outback (looking very much like a slightly modern attempt on the eighties - oh, retro sci-fi! Just like Blade Runner.) This is a dystopian world, and gangs rule the highways - law and order is brutal and vengeful, much like the rage of the bad guys. Max, initially part of the game, soon tries to quit, afraid that he is going to become like one of the guys he chases only armed with the false moral protection of a badge, but is convinced to take a holiday to think it over. Whilst he is on holiday, the gangs strike back...


But we know it can't end all bad for our hero Max, because our Mel is in the next couple of Mad Max films (though apparently has nothing to do with the upcoming fourth project - and I forget, is that going ahead for sure? Do we want it to, really? Wouldn't it be nice seeing Dr Miller do something original again, rather than Mad Max 4, Happy Feet 2 and Babe the gazillion?)


Max is an iconic character in a very simple, futuristic western film. Mad Max as a film is not particularly challenging in any way - it is an Ozploitation film through and through in the sense that it approaches its genre gung-ho with its cheese on its sleeve and without any shame. Miller wants the film to go out on a stylistic limb, pushing boundaries of the glorification of violence, but in order to do that effectively yet still make a film broad enough to turn a profit he had to keep it thematically simple. This is not in any way a bad thing - the story drives forward relentlessly, charging ahead with guns literally blazing and cars flying through the air, not letting a low budget stop him from some spectacular crashes. And Gibson proves himself promising (though, I thought, falling short of mesmerising by a decent distance), worthy perhaps of his later following.


A highly entertaining, if somewhat lightweight, iconic piece of Australian cinematic history. Shame on me for letting it go this long. 4 stars.

The Past Is Right Here.

I truly believe that anyone who knows anything about Australian film from the first decade of this here century we find ourselves in will recognise that line instantly. Somehow, despite the fact that it underperformed at the box office everywhere, Little Fish seems to have caught on in a much bigger way than one might have imagined. I recall at the time not overly loving the film, but it has grown in my esteem over the years between my initial viewing (more than likely viewings, due to my employment in 2005...) and my recent one as part of this project.

The film received a lot of attention at the time as it was the first local appearance of our Cate (Blanchett) since her turn in Oscar And Lucinda in 1997, since which she had been nominated for Oscars and become a hugely recognisable international name. Plus, it was the first film in seven years from Rowan Woods, who had greatly impressed with his debut The Boys. Plus, it was written by Jacquelin Perske, who just the year before had co-created the phenomenal television series Love My Way. It also brought together a tremendous cast besides Blanchett, including the very highly regarded (and suddenly bankable, thanks to The Matrix, The Lord Of The Rings and V For Vendetta) Hugo Weaving, Sam Neill, Martin Henderson, who had been missing for a long time, and Noni Hazlehurst, who turned in a furious performance that shocked many young Australians who had only ever know her from Play School and her television show with ex-husband John Jarratt Better Homes And Gardens.


Tracy (Blanchett) is a recovering junkie, living at home with her mother Janelle (Hazlehurst) and amputee brother Ray (Henderson). She is a manager at a video store, trying to get her life together and working on securing a loan to go into partnership with the owner of the video store in order that they can expand into internet and online gaming next door. Tracy is also emotionally supporting Lionel (Weaving), the gay junkie ex of Janelle, who is contemplating going clean as he is cut off by his lover and dealer Brad (Neill.) Suddenly, Tracy's ex Jonny (Dustin Nguyen) appears, back from Vancouver, sporting a flashy suit. Jonny was a big reason Tracy was doing drugs, and is held responsible by Janelle for the accident that cost Ray part of his leg, but Tracy's love dies hard.


Ray and Jonny get a deal together to make some fast cash, and when Tracy's loan application falls through, despite the fact that she has told both her business partner and her mother that everything is going to be fine, she becomes a part of it. But when everything falls apart she manages to dig deep inside herself and find the courage and belief in herself that has always been there but muddied by her dependence on heroin to bring about happiness. (Ok, that sounds like a really cheesy ending, but it's totally not. I swear.)


The more I think about and remember the film, the more impressed I am with it. I wasn't overly impressed with Nguyen's performance, and I thought Henderson was merely fine, but otherwise the performances were stupendous across the board. Blanchett pulled off her usual incredible thing, but with a depth of character she is often not given. Weaving was ridiculously, painfully good, playing the pathetic junkie with a talent we all knew he had (he has turned in riveting performances before) but still so violent in its intensity as to be dumbfounding. Hazlehurst gives us probably her greatest ever performance (though I'm very, very light on her earlier work - it was better than her equally lauded performance in Candy the following year, if only because the material she had to work with here was better, I think.)


Woods guides them all perfectly, giving a beautiful setting for them to truly excercise Perske's terrific script. Cut wonderfully by Alexandre de Franceschi and John Scott, with Sam Petty's always flawless sound and Nathan Larson's original music that used to kind of irritate me (possibly due to overexposure) but has grown on me a lot to the point where hearing strains of his theme now can cause a deep emotional reaction. And dammit, hearing either the kids or Sarah Blasko singing that cover of Flame Trees can see me in rivers of tears in a second. That scene (anyone who's seen it knows that scene) is mindblowing.


Look, it's not a perfect film. Not in any way. But I think it has improved with age. I think at the time, also, in such a dire time for Australian film, it probably wasn't the right film to be making. Everyone was depressed enough as it was, and throwing a depressing-as-fuck film into the mix was never going to pull us out of it. If it came out this year I think it would have performed somewhat better, though maybe I'm just deluding myself. Little Fish is, however, a good film, even a very good film. If only for the epic performances within it is worth watching. If for noting else than to feel how amazing Cold Chisel covers can be. 4 stars.

You Stole My Life, And I'm Stealing Your Suitcase.

Cannes in 2004 had a whole bunch of big names competing for the top prize. Already here we've looked at a couple - Oldboy and Tropical Malady (from this year's winner Apichatpong Weerasethakul) measured up against such directors as two-time Palme d'Or winner Emir Kusturica, a new film from previous winners the Coen brothers, Wong Kar Wei, Olivier Assayas, and the eventual winner that year Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11. It wasn't necessarily a banner year on the French coast (compared to the pedigree of this year, for example), but it seems to have made a decent play at making its mark in this here blog.


That was a very longwinded way of getting to the point. The Consequences of Love, Paulo Sorrentino's uber-stylish second feature also played in the competition. It is a beautiful and pointed, very precise film strikingly shot by Luca Bigazzi, rendered somewhat distant by its own insistence on pitch-perfect on-screen beauty. 

Titta (Toni Servillo) has spent the last eight years living in a hotel in Switzerland, separated from his family who don't really want anything to do with him, doing a mundane delivery job for the Italian mafia as a punishment for losing an extraordinary amount of their money on the stock market. He is too afraid to start anything with Sofia (Olivia Magnani), the girl behind the bar, because he doesn't want to complicate things. His brother, a flighty character, convinces him to leap off and go after her, and Titta follows his advice. How much of what follows can be attributed to this action is debatable, but it must be said that things do indeed start to go wrong.


It is truly beautiful to watch. From the opening shot of a big long hallway with a porter on a travelator you know you're in for something special. And then there is the beautiful 180 degree spinning shot of Titta in the hotel room - stunning. Matched with some exceptional music, both original by Pasquale Catalano and existing from bands such as Mogwai, it truly lends an incredible backdrop from which to build the characters.


And don't get me wrong, the characters do build. Titta, who is the undeniable focus of every moment of the film, is a hard character to get into, but he does let his guard down and gradually allow you to see inside his emptiness and hopelessness - he has been almost entirely hollowed out emotionally and spiritually by his strange form of imprisonment by the Italian mafia. What hasn't been emptied, however, is quickly given over to Sofia. Servillo especially excels, dominating the characterisation. But you're never really allowed to see totally inside him, or, for that matter, Sofia. His grand gestures are nervous, with fear of failure that you know he is going to try and convince himself he doesn't feel but which is electrically charged through every movement. And Sofia, with her reactions, shows her fear of all of the unknowns surrounding the strange man who lives in the hotel. Even after all of his secrets are spilled, however, this fear still seems to permeate. And while you are swept away by everything you are watching as the film moves towards its terrific climax, I never truly found myself engaged with the people within the film. I was there intellectually, fine, it got me there. But I was still entirely able to switch it off at the end, say I was done and move on. What stands out to me are the visuals without an emotional attachment - unlike, for example, Days of Heaven where the visuals may well have been what stood out but they brought with them the associated feelings announced through the narrative.


I don't really know where to place this film. I liked it. I really liked it. I thought it was very entertaining, it kept me watching, I was never bored. But I also never felt. It's a strange feeling (and one that I'm going to be repeating soon when I get up to writing up a certain summer blockbuster that everyone has been talking about...), but it's not necessarily a bad one. I am convinced, however, that it could have been that little bit more, that it should have been a little bit more. Producer Domenico Procacci has brought us plenty of films that manage that before (see Gomorrah) but here he couldn't quite get all the pieces aligned. But there is enough promise to make me look forward to my next engagement with Sorrentino, and indeed Procacci (whose relationship with Rolf de Heer will always keep me intrigued.) 4 stars.

It's Tiring Killing A Man

I remember, back in the day, thinking that Ludivine Sagnier would go on to be a big star, with great cross-over appeal in the English language world. For some reason, however, it doesn't seem to have happened, at least not to the level that I anticipated. I can't even remember what movie made me think it - I'm sure it was before her turn in 8 Femmes. Maybe it wasn't, though I don't think that film made a big enough impression on me to have made me think it on my own.


I thought it again watching François Ozon's Swimming Pool alongside Charlotte Rampling (who was in Ozon's previous film on here, Under The Sand.) She is beautiful, she is talented, and she has that gorgeous voice, whether speaking in French or in English.

Sarah (Rampling) is a successful writer of crime fiction, somewhat uptight, who is offered by her publisher (who it is implied she may be having, have had, or want to have a fling with) the use of his house in France to work on her next novel, away from the distractions and complications of her London life. She takes him up on it, and begins to enjoy her time there, relaxing, doing as she will. Her solitude is interrupted, however, by the arrival of Julie (Sagnier), apparently the publisher's daughter from an old relationship. She says that she is allowed to use the house whenever she wants, and Sarah obviously cannot say no. Julie, however, is intent on partying like the young, free girl that she has, which seems to include bringing home a different man every night. Sarah is initially somewhat angry and hostile about this, but shortly starts to take an interest, somewhat voyeuristic, in Julie's exploits, showing jealousy at her lifestyle. 


Julie brings home a waiter, Franck (Jean-Marie Lamour) who Sarah has also been flirting with, and it soon seems that Franck is more interested in Sarah than Julie, though Sarah's prudish ways do little to entice him. The next morning, however, Franck has disappeared, after he stopped Julie from fellating him on the edge of the swimming pool due to his shock at Sarah throwing a rock in the pool from her vantage point on a balcony off her bedroom.


I shan't go further for fear of giving too much away, but let it be said that I'm sure the plot would go down very well in one of Sarah's murder mysteries (and I'm sure that was the point - I'm not dense.)


Coming out of the viewing of the film I thought to myself that I think Ozon is a director whom I always want to like more than I do. Looking back on it now, however, I think the film has worked its way into me much more than I gave it credit for. The pacing of the film works perfectly, giving ample time to truly understand each of the primary female characters and allowing for their motivations to become entirely understandable. Rampling does well (though her English does sound like a Frenchwoman speaking English, which is strange considering she is, actually, English. Maybe it was just me, but speaking her native tongue never struck me as particularly natural for her character. Sagnier was beautiful and youthfully tortured, turning in her character with all of her vulnerabilities with style and finesse. Maybe her stardom will come with age - so often the pretty are ignored until a wrinkle or two appears.


I prefer this film to Under The Sand (possibly because of my age - Under The Sand was, I think, dealing with themes and issues more geared to an older audience), but I still would heistate to call it a great film. I will keep plugging along with Ozon's filmography, and wait for that one that grabs me and says 'yes! You're right! He's genius!', because I'm sure it is there. I can feel it, waiting to engage me on a much deeper level. In the meantime, 4 stars.

Just Because He's A Faggot Doesn't Mean He's An Asshole.

Todd Solondz does know how to make 'em depressing, as we saw back here with Happiness. Preceding that one by a few years, however, was his breakthrough Sundance winning title Welcome To The Dollhouse.


Dollhouse is a film like only Solondz can make them. Strangely comedic in many ways, it is ultimately horrendously tragic through the bleakness offered up at the end - there is no bright side, only reality, which is so often very ugly. 

Dawn Wiener (Heather Matarazzo) is an unattractive and unpopular junior high schooler with a nerdy older brother playing clarinet in a band in the garage and a younger sister who is perfect in every way. Dawn is picked on at school and only makes matters worse through clumsy attempts at retaliation, such as spitballing a teacher in the eye. One student even threatens to rape her, though after a failed first attempt he opens up to her and eventually seems to fall for her, though she rejects him in order to try and get it on with the hunky singer who has joined her brother's band.


Eventually, after a fight with her sister resulting in her going missing, Dawn realises that her only hope of some freedom from the agony of her rejected life is to try and simply fade into the background, something which is all too easy after she tries to find her sister, running away to New York, with her absence not even being noticed until she phones home to let her family know. In the end, she ends up back where she started, singing the anthem with her classmates, completely alone.


It is this hopeless ending that I so often associate with Solondz and his films. It is painfully pessimistic when taken in the context of storytelling and how the majority of narrative arcs conclude, both within the mainstream and independent sector. Generally there is some glimmer of hope, no matter how desperate the situation. Very rarely do all the characters end up dead, plagued by unhappiness, with no order restored to how you are encouraged to view the world. Here, however, that is entirely what you get. Dawn ends up with nothing, with less than how she started. Even though she took the bold and dangerous route, albeit motivated by guilt, of going to New York and sleeping on a street to try and find her sister, she is completely snubbed by her family and friends. There is no heroes welcome for her on her return, no thanks for her noble gesture, however misinformed. 


The hardest thing with this film is that it probably is, in fact, much closer to the reality of what may play out, especially for a girl in Dawn's situation. A lot of parents may in fact be furious with her for running off without first telling them, especially considering it was in many ways Dawn's fault that the sister went missing. And for many people at her age, it just doesn't get any easier in the short term. They continue to struggle through and hope to find some sort of clique once they enter the elder realms of education and the freedom of movement and choice that provides.


Writer/director/producer Solondz takes us there with gusto. He doesn't pull any punches. His humour is sardonic more than it is hysterical - so dark as to almost disappear within itself. His themes are depressing and his characterisations often alienating, but these are the elements that lend to his singular voice. In a world of light he is the realistic twilight, the bitter reality check, and the deliberately stylised and stereotyped performances add a layer of horror to the film - those sorts of portrayals are much more suited to a fifties period drama (I just jumped to Far From Heaven...) where they fit in with the heightened moods and the period nature, the filtered retrospect applied to history. Here, they just serve to ram home the point that the more things change, the more they stay the same. And sometimes they even regress.


Dark and hard to watch, it is nonetheless a terrific film. Another 4 stars for Mr Solondz.

Head First.

In a year otherwise dominated by The Interview and The Boys, Ana Kokkinos' debut feature (and easily her best - come on, The Book Of Revelation? Really?) Head On made a fairly significant splash for its brazen portrayal of sexuality in an otherwise somewhat conservative Australian film industry. Where Priscilla, some years before, had tackled queer sensibility in an underhanded, overly camp and somewhat stereotypical and over the top fashion, Head On delved right into the grotty, seedy, blow-job-in-a-back-alley world that many people would prefer to believe doesn't really exist. And it did it well.

Alex Dimitriades, a few years after making a name for himself in television's Heartbreak High, plays young Ari, a young man of Greek descent living in Melbourne. A somewhat traditional and conservative family seems to be holding back his own expression of himself - not to mention his own masculine bravado and the fear of his family and peers at large, particularly within his community. He has strong desires for men, but he is also turned off by the actions of his friend Johnny (Paul Capsis in a spellbinding screen debut), transgender and in your face. What Johnny goes through is tough for Ari to confront, and he also doesn't want to be thought of as a 'faggot', with all of the late-nineties connotations that has for a young man such as himself. Then he struggles with his responsibilities to his family, especially his younger sister, and he is constantly tempted by the party world, whether gay or straight, and the drugs and escape they provide.


Head On is all about his journey, unfulfilling and open-ended. His petulance and immaturity adds to the drama - he isn't old enough to work himself out, and instead is left suffering through the pressures placed on him by society both small and large. To compensate he engages in random and dangerous sexual liaisons, such as in various back alleys, and is in turn both the abused and the abuser. This very direct and explicit representation of queer existence made quite an impact on the Australian public: especially notorious is the graphic masturbation scene by Ari to kick off the film.


Kokkinos showed incredible promise with this forthright, no-holds-barred examination of life in the gutter, helped by the solid performance of Dimitriades and the stunning work of Capsis, known more as a cabaret singer back in Oz. The fabulous Jill Bilcock took up the job of cutting the film, working within the gritty shots and hostile colour scheme to give incredible consistency throughout. Andrew Bovell, to bring us Lantana a couple of years later, co-wrote the terrific script with Kokkinos and Mira Robertson from Christos Tsiolkas' novel Loaded, with Jane Scott producing her follow-up to her Oscar-nominated Shine.


Head On is an enduring Australian film in many ways because of the ground it breaks and the lines it presumes to cross with a bravery still very seldom seen in that industry. A terrific inclusion into the canon of queer cinema, 4 stars.

Your Clothes... Give Them To Me Now.

It suddenly dawned on me, reading something about Avatar the other day and the references to previous James Cameron movies, that I didn’t think I’d ever seen the original Terminator film from 1984. I know I’ve seen Terminator 2: Judgement Day numerous times. I think we had that one taped and would watch it over school holidays - it’s a great film. I also remember at the time thinking about the fact that I’d never seen the original, but it kept slipping my mind to actually check it out. Maybe I had seen it - I’d never know unless I checked out the DVD and revisited it.

Turns out, I’d never seen it. I’d never seen the original Terminator. I’ll be damned.

Cameron co-wrote and directed this breakout sci-fi smash, putting Arnold Schwarzenegger into probably his most famous role and making Linda Hamilton a household name. For a while. Hamilton plays Sarah Connor, soon to become mother of John Connor, father of the anti-machine resistance movement in the 2020s. The machines send a terminator (Schwarzenegger - man, that’s an irritating name to type out. Props to all journalists covering Californian politics) back in time to assassinate Sarah before she can give birth to their arch-nemesis John. The humans manage to sneak in someone to protect her also, sending back soldier Kyle Reese (Michael Biehn) to make sure the terminator can’t have his way.

From this prospect comes a fairly typical action film with a love story undercurrent between Sarah and Kyle. Hopefully nothing is given away by giving away the fact, 26 years after the film’s initial release, that this love affair blossoms and is, in fact, the relationship that begets young John. So, John has sent his own father back in time to protect his mother, posing some intriguing and paradoxical circular ideas of how the past and future could possible interact considering neither the past nor the future could exist without the other. But how could John have sent Kyle back to save his mother if John in fact wouldn’t exist without Kyle having gone back? How could Kyle have begat John in what is, for him, the past if, without being sent back in time by John, who can’t actually exist considering the fact that Kyle isn’t sent back in time until John is, what 43 or something. See what I mean? Best not to think too hard about this and just enjoy the neat conclusions.

It is a rollicking romp or a film. Hamilton is soft and gentle, stepping up rarely and quite emotional throughout the film, really relying on Kyle to see her through the trauma of being pursued by Schwarzenegger’s fairly impressive force. Cameron knows how to keep his stories rolling, and even at this time shows an adeptness with special effects. Sure, they look clunky compared to what could be achieved now, but this was almost three decades ago! Give the man some credit. It’s pretty damned impressive. Schwarzenegger, for his part, plays the role perfectly, considering he doesn’t need to do much more than hulk around and shoot stuff, muttering the occasional dry line of not-really-dialogue, and by nature of his being can’t really exhibit much in the way of expression. Biehn, who must have been quite the heartthrob back in the 80s considering I found him very attractive now despite the hairdo, was suitably dramatic and mysteriously knowing with his representations to Sarah.

All in all, it’s a good film. I knew the story of it, just from picking it up from the sequel and word of mouth, so it was no revelation of understanding as to the story of the terminator and the second installment. But it was nice to finally see it, an enjoyable action film that isn’t as good as the second one but is a tidy little start. 4 stars.

You Know Mr Gorbachev, The Guy That Ran Russia For So Long?

I can never really work out whether I think To Die For is overrated or underrated. I quite enjoy it, but is it actually good? All of the camp theatrics of the film - are they deliberate overplays designed almost to function in a Brechtian way, to stop you really relating to the characters and instead forcing you to analyse them critically? Or are they kind of just overplays. I'm tending to go with the former. I'm thinking I like the film.

Nicole Kidman plays Suzanne, a beautiful girl with no real talents but a true desire to succeed. She badgers her way on screen as a weather reporter for a local news station, and is constantly winning over her husband Larry (Matt Dillon) to get her way - manipulating him into submission is probably a more accurate way to describe her actions. Larry wants Suzanne to take time off her climbing of the corporate ladder in order to start a family, something Suzanne is not keen on. To this end, she begins a project with schoolkids and lures three of the dumbest and most hick into her trap. 


Jimmy (Joaquin Phoenix) is the ringleader, probably the dumbest, and Suzanne seduces him one night at her house. Russel (Casey Affleck) seems to be a bit smarter but still follows Jimmy around as his foil, while Lydia (Alison Folland) idolises Suzanne and seems to have no one else to hang around with than the two brutes - I believe after rewatching To Die For that Lydia is in fact a lesbian, in love with Suzanne, unsure of how to deal with her teenage feelings in a small American town. Suzanne ends up bribing and cajoling the kids to off Larry, which they do, before Suzanne turns her backs on them and pretends to know nothing about it - she is let off from her charges due to entrapment technicalities employed by the police in gathering evidence against her. She thinks she has won, but in the end she does not, something shown with a great little cameo from David Cronenberg.


Kidman won her first Golden Globe for her terrific performance, combining devious planning with ditzy actions and making herself endlessly creepy yet undeniably watchable. Dillon played the shallow role of the husband well also - it wasn't much of a stretch in terms of complexity of character, and the camped nature of his performance suited his strengths. Affleck was strong in a small role, and Folland did decent work with her confused character (she is probably my weakest link in the cast, however), while Phoenix did terrific things with his down and dirty portrayal of someone who may in fact be on the verge of a medical diagnosis of mild retardation. His character allowed for the deepest character representation in a real sense on screen, and he grabbed hold of it and made it work for him. No wonder he went on to become the great performer he has since been recognised as.


The script from Buck Henry (based on the book by Joyce Maynard) was very clever, and the dialogue and narration from Suzanne was written perfectly. Director Gus Van Sant let the film take itself along, giving it a quirk but leaving it decidedly more accessible to the mainstream than his earlier works. He seems to dip in and out of mainstream in phases - following To Die For he ran around and made such films as Finding Forrester and Good Will Hunting, before dropping out again for the Death Trilogy (here and here), and now seems to be in and out much faster - Milk was serious yet commercial but upcoming Restless looks like it may play more akin to Paranoid Park.


Anyway, I've distracted myself. I like it. I do. 4 stars.