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It appears to be neck and neck this year for the Best Foreign Language Oscar between France's Un Prophète (A Prophet) and Germany's Das Weisse Band (The White Ribbon), from Michael Haneke - I'm hoping to catch the latter over the next week as I only just realised it released here last November and somehow managed to slip by my radar, which has been hanging for it since it took out the Palme d'Or. This two-horse race of course means that something completely different will pull through for the win, though sadly not Samson And Delilah, which didn't follow through on its shortlisting to the nomination stage.
I caught director Jacques Audiard's previous picture The Beat That My Heart Skipped (I'm dead certain that it was released as The Beat My Heart Skipped in Australia, which I think sounds soooo much better) back when it was out and about in 2005 and thoroughly enjoyed it. It was responsible for my infatuation with Romain Duris, in fact. I recall taking issue with a few points, but I think I gave it four stars at the time. His follow up, which took the Grand Prix at Cannes last year, I can't fault.
Un Prophète is the story of petty criminal Malik (Tahar Rahim), sentenced to a half dozen years in prison. French-born but an Arab by heritage, he falls in with the Corsican gang who run the Parisian prison he finds himself in. The Corsicans, led by César Luciani (Niels Arestrup), need someone to take out an informer in prison briefly, and call upon Malik, who has absolutely no desire to take part but is told in no uncertain terms that he has no option - now that he knows of the plan, either he does Ryad or the Corsicans do him. Once the job is done, however, he finds himself part of the Corsican gang, initially just doing their dirty work (literally - he makes them coffee and cleans up after them), but eventually, as the majority of the Corsicans are transferred to another prison, becoming right hand man and confidante to Luciani.
Meanwhile, the Arab contingent is building itself up, not willing to take more shit from the weakened Corsican faction in the prison. Yes, the Corsicans did once own the guards, but as they become fewer it starts to be the Arabs who are wielding more power. Malik, not one to be left out in the cold, is consorting with a few select inmates to run a small drug trade, which, on day leave as his sentence nears completion, whilst still running errands for Luciani, he converts into a powerful cartel using old Corsican contacts and another ex-inmate Reyeb, released on compassionate grounds after becoming quite ill.
As his parole date gets nearer and nearer, Malik realises he holds the power and takes over the Arab gang, leaving Luciani virtually on his own and utterly powerless, with no friends either inside the prison or on the outside, entirely unable to exact revenge for the traitorous actions of his once-protege.
Un Prophète is an intricate study of the economics of corruption. Malik says all along that he doesn't work for the Corsicans, he works for himself - when it is in his interests that work will cross over with the Corsicans, but when his interests change, he will quite happily double-cross to ensure his safety with the other side. In the process, he becomes incredibly powerful considering his young, innocent (for want of a better word) and naive roots.
Rahim as Malik is a true revelation. Virtually unknown previously, he is now up for a BAFTA Rising Star award for his portrayal, carrying this fairly long film almost entirely on his own back. His transformation from pitiful to powerful is subtle but definite, played out slowly but carefully so that by the end you are in no doubt of his strength. Arestrup as the prison kingpin is dominating but vulnerable. His downfall is not a surprise, as his reliance on other people fearing him (coupled with the fact that, outside of the opening, Malik really isn't) is so entrenched that, when his structure falls away, it is really just inevitable, a matter of time before he falls back to the bottom of the heap.
Cinematography by Stéphane Fontaine perfectly captures both the prison, the outside, and the fantasy world that Malik so often escapes to. Alexandre Desplat, who somehow managed to score only, oh, five other 2009 releases (including: Chéri; Coco Avant Chanel; Twilight: New Moon; Julie & Julia; L'armée du crime, and; The Fantastic Mr Fox - lazy bastard), does an extraordinary job with the soundtrack, aided by some ripping choices by the music supervisor - I'm always happy to hear Sigur Rós turn up, as I'm sure you can imagine.
And through all of this, Audiard keeps a very firm grip on things. Very firm. The film is spectacularly strong, riveting in every moment. It moves through relentlessly, not letting up, but without overbearing you. Worthy of every award going, it just remains to be seen whether Haneke will get his due from the Academy or whether Audiard can keep him waiting a few more years. 5 stars.
There you go. Happy = fat.
Ahem.
Back in 1989, a film was playing in West Berlin (the Allied controlled section) when the wall came down. People from East Berlin went into the cinema expecting to see some serious Western porn, but left sorely disappointed. What was that film? Why, Sex, Lies and Videotape of course!
Steven Soderbergh's debut feature won the Palme d'Or at Cannes in 1989, and announced the appearance on the world stage of someone who would go on to become one of the most recognised directors in the world - though it took until the one-two of Erin Brokovich and Traffic in 2000 and the huge commercial success of Ocean's Eleven the following year to really cement that status.
Sex, Lies and Videotape features four main characters. Ann (Andie MacDowell) is married to John (Peter Gallagher), who is having an affair with Ann's sister Cynthia (Laura San Giacomo in her credited feature debut.) An old school friend of John's comes to town, and the appearance of Graham (James Spader, who won Best Actor at Cannes and then, curiously, only picked up an Independent Spirit nomination elsewhere) throws that curious three-way relationship into turmoil. Ann initially dislikes Graham, but after they go apartment hunting his wily ways win her over and they start a sort of friendship, briefly, which ends once she discovers a pile of video tapes in his home. He quite honestly tells her that they are tapes of women talking about sex, their history, desires, fantasies, anything really, and this freaks her out a little. Cynthia, quite the little hornbag, meanwhile, is fascinated by this new friend of her sister and tracks him down, flirting outrageously (as is her wont) and then making her own tape for him. It is this tape and Graham's honesty that bring the truth of Cynthia and John's relationship out into the open - she confesses it on the tape, knowing that Graham won't let anyone else see it. But when Ann begins to suspect the affair, she mentions it to Graham, and he confirms it.
I won't go any further into the plot for fear of giving away what little remains a secret. All of the performances are reasonably strong, but San Giacomo was by far the standout. Her sultry, slutty sister was perfect. The other three were all fine, nothing overly exemplary, but she was fantastic. I've always loved watching her pop up in films like Pretty Woman, but it's a pity she never got to really show her chops like this again.
The film is an interesting one. I don't really think it's a brilliant film, more of an excellent exercise. That's what it felt like to me. I wasn't particularly riveted by what was going on in the film as much as I was riveted by how it was going on. The form of the film was more interesting than the content, I think, which was really quite stock-standard. Thematically, nothing was pushed, but structurally it was fascinating. I think that's what I'm trying to say. I'm remembering the film more fondly for how it played out than the specifics of what played out.
Gah, I'm not even making sense to myself. It's an interesting film, worth the watch, but I went in expecting fireworks (though not porn!) and got something entirely different. 3.5 stars.
Have I previously stated how much I'm looking forward to Jónsi's debut solo album, Go? Have I? Maybe? Just once or twice? Well, things like this just make me look forward to it even more.
Seriously, he has a cockatoo. Brilliant. Album is out here in the UK on April 5th if my memory serves me correctly, marginally earlier in Australia and, for some reason, Germany I think. US tour dates announced but none for Europe! That's so unfair. I'm going to write him a sternly worded letter.
But really, like all of Sigur Rós' albums as a group were before they released, this is my most anticipated record of the year. I also believe he is or has been mixing it around the corner from where I live. So I'm going to put on my stalking hat.
It's an Ellen Burstyn festival! (There's another Burstyn starrer coming up in a couple of films time, after this one. Woohoo!) She's another that can do no wrong, though that goes back to when I first saw The Exorcist, back in the day. Requiem For A Dream merely cemented it for me.
While Burstyn won her Academy Award for Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore, she had already been nominated twice (for support in The Last Picture Show and lead in The Exorcist), and has since been nominated three times more. In Alice she plays the Alice of the title, recently widowed from a tumultuous relationship. With no money and no pre-marriage career outside of some singing she gave up when wed, and a young son to take care of, Alice heads off from where she had been living to make her way back to Monterey, where she had last earned a living off her voice.
Stopping off in Phoenix to sing at a piano bar in order that she can make enough to money to carry on with son Tommy (Alfred Lutter III), she begins a relationship with the immature but sweet Ben (Harvey Keitel), and bites off far more than she can chew. After discovering that he is not only already married but violent to boot she flees the town, finding herself in Tucson. Unable to find work as a singer she takes up as a waitress, working with loud, flirty Flo (Diane Ladd) and the simple Audrey (Jodie Foster.) There she meets and becomes involved with David (Kris Kristofferson), who owns a ranch outside of town and seems too good to be true. A divorcee with children he doesn't really see, David quickly starts to exert his own opinions on the family, creating tension between Alice and Tommy as the deadline for Tommy to enroll in school in Monterey approaches and they are still in Tucson, not earning enough money. After a short breakup, David and Alice get back together and the option of staying in Tucson rears its head... something both Alice and Tommy ultimately find very appealing.
Martin Scorsese helms the film, fresh from the acclaim of Mean Streets, before taking up the reigns on Raging Bull, though Burstyn apparently retained full creative control due to her starring role and the phenomenal success of The Exorcist. She chose Scorsese based on his willingness to embrace learning about women for the picture, but presumably due to Burstyn's influence the film is tonally quite different from Scorsese's pictures to follow. Visually it is striking in a very distinctive Scorsese way, with the angles and the movement of the camera, almost flat to the screen, something he manages to achieve without it ever feeling empty or amateurish. But it is a lot lighter than the majority of his work - not that that is a negative note on the film. It's a fine film centred around the outstanding performance of Burstyn, who is truly pivotal to the film. Hers is the story being told, and she is in almost every scene, and she owns every scene she is in, using a great script by Robert Getchell and wringing every comic and dramatic note out of it. Her relationship with her son is beautiful and hilarious. It didn't feel real in the slightest, not on the surface (though maybe I just know nothing about the era), but underneath you could feel the emotion running deep and the lines they exchanged worked so well that it is not only forgivable, it is laudable.
A great effort all round. I think Burstyn's performances in both The Exorcist and Requiem For A Dream were more worthy of an Oscar than this (not that she wasn't worthy - I guess I mean her other two big ones were so damn big, but ignored), but she does turn in a very solid and definite lead job. 4 stars.
Gomorrah was one of the most acclaimed non-English language films of 2008 (and not nominated for Oscar - sidenote: it's widely seen that the changing of the way the Academy selects the shortlisted titles for this category [whereby six are voted on by the branch membership at large and three are selected by an executive committee] is a result of both this film and 4 months, 3 weeks, 2 days failing to receive nominations despite their universal acclaim in their respective years and numerous awards and nominations in other high-profile ceremonies, including the Grand Prix at Cannes.) The film is very complex, a maze of almost half a dozen different narratives woven throughout the Naples gangster community, interlinked by how they are all affected by this mob influence on their lives, which are spent in very close proximity.
I'm not going to try and summarise the film, because that's nigh on impossible. As mentioned, it's very complex and interlinked, and without breaking the strands apart, which would make the film appear much more simplistic than it actually is, it would simply turn into a jumble of words with no real coherence for anyone who hasn't seen the film. I'm sure breakdowns exist out there anyway - why add to it.
What I will say is that the film is very good. The performances from the cast, both young and old, are very strong, and the film looks extraordinary, thanks to cinematographer Marco Onorato. The screenplay (by, like, half a dozen people, including director Matteo Garrone) weaves the narratives together very nicely, interlocking them and playing them against each other effortlessly. Moments of confusion are quickly dispelled as well - the stories are individually clear despite often common themes or locations. No doubt this has a lot to do with the work of editor Marco Spoleti, who holds it all together in exemplary fashion.
It's a damn good film, a great gangster film. I'm drawing parallels in my head to the grittiness and power of City of God, another film about the dangers of the underworld, and I think the comparison is warranted. It's dark and it's bloody, but it's worth it. 4.5 stars.
Let me get this straight from the outset: Kate Winslet can pretty much do no wrong in my eyes. In fact, I'm sitting here and I can't think of a single time she has wronged me (for in my world, every poor choice or performance or speech or dress is a personal insult.)
So, I'm not going to rave about her performance. It should also be noted that Jennifer Connelly can do very little wrong. Requiem For A Dream effectively quashed any ability for me to talk down about her.
Onwards to Little Children. I liked this film, I didn't love it. Winslet plays Sarah Pierce, a woman in an unhappy marriage, looking after her daughter Lucy. She takes Lucy to the park where Lucy doesn't really mingle with the other children - but Sarah doesn't really mingle with the other mothers either. Sarah doesn't seem to fit their mould of perfection. She forgets things, she's not all out to impress every minute of every day. This, of course, leads to her getting the man.
The man in question is Brad (Patrick Wilson), dubbed the Prom King by the other mothers. He's unemployed, looking after his young son while his wife Kathy (Jennifer Connelly) earns a living making documentaries. He's sometimes seen at the park where Sarah and the other mothers are every day, and one day, to get a rise out of the ladies watching, the two hug. And then kiss. And then Sarah follows him to the pool, where he is every day, orchestrating some 'oh wow, hi, didn't know you were here' moments, upon which they become friends and then lovers.
While this is going on, Ronnie (Jackie Earle Haley) has moved back into the neighbourhood. So what? So, he's a convicted child molester. There is a quasi-vigilante movement led by ex-cop Larry (Noah Emmerich) to get rid of him, and Brad finds himself mixed up in it, really as a cover and a distraction from the feelings he is developing towards Sarah. But they don't stop, and the effect Ronnie has on the neighbourhood is keep them constantly on edge.
It's a couple of simple stories that are nicely woven together to form something that appears superficially to be a little more complex than it really is, but it's nice to know what's going on all of the time. It's well written, well acted (Haley and Winslet picked up Oscar noms as Support and Lead respectively), but I have a few quibbles with the way director Todd Field makes his films. The same problem I had with his previous effort In The Bedroom I have with Little Children, and that is that it all feels just a little too stylised, a little too particular, to quite hit home. It doesn't quite ring true because it all seems a little... well, hyper. Hyper-real, perhaps. It doesn't sing truth when that is what I think the film needs. The stylisation distances me from the narrative a little, makes me feel very much like I'm on the outside looking in when I think I need to be feeling every beat of fear, terror, guilt and desire that these characters are feeling. It's way too intellectual and not nearly visceral enough to make a lasting impression.
It does look beautiful, however. Antonio Calvache shot it beautifully. So credit there. And the elements were individually quite solid. They just didn't quite add up to the whole that the film could have been. 3.5 stars.
There's not much I can say about this film that I haven't rambled on endlessly to anyone unfortunate (or, dare I say, fortunate) enough to have got me started. It's pretty much my favourite film of 2006, one of my favourite films of the noughties, one of my favourites of forever.
John Cameron Mitchell first came to notice in the film world with his feature Hedwig And The Angry Inch, a film that started out on the stage (and was rendered so amazingly and brilliantly in Sydney a few years back with iOTA in the lead role) before becoming a bit of a cult hit. He followed it up five years later with a film called Shortbus. I first saw it in Australia when the distributors, Hopscotch, organised a massive preview screening for people in the film industry. Certain it would run into problems with censorship due to the amount of actual sex, including gay sex, in it, they put everyone in two cinemas in Paddington, talked about how the movie was so much more and then screened it, presumably in the hope that we would all come out swinging for the film if people did try and ban it. As it was, I don't recall any controversy about its release (amazingly), but I don't know anyone who didn't come out of that movie loving it.
There is a lot of sex. A lot. The opening sequence involves Sofia (Sook-Yin Lee) and Rob (Raphael Barker) having vigourous sex in a number of positions in their home, Severin (Lindsay Beamish) dominated her charge Jesse (Adam Hardman) to an impressive orgasm and James (Paul Dawson) self-felating in his apartment, watched by his stalker Caleb (Peter Stickles) from across the street. That's a pretty full on start, and I'm no prude. But the film, despite the constant references and reliance on sex, is not about sex at all. It's about people, relationships, desires, hope, loss. Feeling. The sex is a catalyst, a backdrop.
Our main characters are Sofia, James, his boyfriend Jamie (PJ DeBoy), Severin and to an extent where his input allows the cohesion of the stories, Justin Bond playing himself. The Shortbus of the title is an underground club in New York, where James and Jamie take Sofia, their couples counsellor, after she reveals to them that she has never had an orgasm. There, she meets Severin, and the two begin a friendship as Sofia tries to help the dominatrix to have a real human relationship while she returns the favour by helping the therapist achieve a sexual climax. James and Jamie meanwhile have decided to open up their relationship, and pick up Ceth (Jay Brannan), making him part of their lives. James is documenting much of this, making a film that he is not allowing anyone to see.
Within Shortbus, this debauched place of fantasy, far removed from any reality the average person might recognise, the reality of each character's fragile existence is played out. All of their fears are recognised, whether overtly through passionate monologues (there is a particularly moving one from Alan Mandell, playing an ex-New York mayor, discussing the AIDS crisis and his time in the closet) or inwardly through witty rebukes and sexual encounters. We see into James' despair during a game of truth or dare, and into Severin's through her apologies with art. Eventually James goes off in an attempt to write the final chapter in his film, only to be found by Caleb, and what he was really trying to do by introducing Ceth into Jamie's life becomes painfully apparent, and somehow incredibly noble.
The film is a true triumph in almost every way. The story was developed with the actors over years, Mitchell whittling down audition tapes to find his core group of collaborators. Yes, some of the performances are flawed, but they still feel very real, and the stories, the truth within them, is what is really important and so fully realised in Shortbus. The score from Yo La Tengo is impeccable, and the animated sequences fit perfectly with the impressions of the club. A final rousing chorus from all involved puts a candle on this lush and indulgent cake, leaving you overjoyed, triumphant, and close to tears of happiness.
If you are able to look past graphic sexual sequences to what they represent (and what I've already described is nothing - there are large orgy scenes, and an hilarious scene involving a national anthem being sung into orifices most people would not think to sing into) and how they allow their characters to progress than I'm fairly certain that you will love this film. For the most part there is virtually no titillation in the film - anything arousing comes from within. 5 stars, and a huge recommendation.
I'm always surprised when a film gets only a couple of Oscar nominations, but one of them is for Best Picture. I guess this year that possibility was much higher with the expansion to ten nominees, but An Education has been tipped for inclusion in the finalists for ages, most people were calling it one of the five locks for a nomination, and that would mean most people would have included it in the list of five were this any one of the previous, what, sixty years or something. As it is, it only received noms for Best Actress (for Carey Mulligan) and Best Adapted Screenplay (for Nick Hornby, based on an autobiographical essay by Lynn Barber.) I guess that maybe means it wouldn't have been a lock for Best Picture in another year, it may have been squeezed out by something else, which would be a pity because it's a great little film.
Mulligan plays Jenny, a teenager studying at school with an aim to shortly finishing her A-levels and being accepted as an English major at Oxford. One rainy day on the way home from orchestra rehearsals, where she plays the cello to show she is rounded enough for the venerable tertiary institution, David (Peter Sarsgaard) stops and offers to give a ride to her cello, as he is a lover of music but would never dream of inviting a young girl into a stranger's car. So begins a relationship of sorts between Jenny and this much older, very smooth, oft-sleazy man.
David and his friend Danny (Dominic Cooper) make their money (and seem to make a fair bit of it) through dodgy art and property dealings, leaving a foul taste in Jenny's mouth (despite Danny's girlfriend Helen's - Rosamund Pike - entreaties not to think about it) that she nevertheless is able to overcome in order that she might maintain the exciting and very mature lifestyle she is leading as a sixteen/seventeen year old school student. When David proposes marriage she gives up her studies to become his doting and adventurous wife - only to discover that he already has one of those, and she is not the first mistress he has had.
The script is a lot of fun. Sarsgaard is perfectly sleazy and icky, despite obviously knowing how to exhibit exactly the right sort of charm to win over any particular person he sets his mind on. Mulligan plays his wide-eyed but precocious charge, seeming to learn life lessons just to throw those lessons back out the window, definitely up to the standard of an Oscar nomination - one of the more delightful showings I've seen in a while. All you want to do is take her by the hand, admire her fortitude, and then tell her she's a fool and there's a whole lot out there she doesn't understand before sending her up to her room to practice her cello. The supporting cast (Pike, Cooper, Emma Thompson as Jenny's headmistress, Sally Hawkins as David's wife) are all also very solid. Thompson, god love her, was Thompson, which is never a bad thing, but I loved Hawkins' brief scene. After being swept off my feet by her Poppy in Happy-Go-Lucky, it's nice to see her again.
Lone Scherfig may not have helped hammer in the 'year of the woman' title everyone was going for with the Oscars this year (if she had been up for Best Director alongside favourite Kathryn Bigelow, and if Jane Campion hadn't faded for Bright Star, it would have been quite a sensation), but she does a fine job of weaving Hornby's fantastic script into a humourous yet touching film, keeping it tight without it ever feeling rushed, letting the film breathe just enough without letting you get restless. It's a decade since her Dogme 95 film Italian For Beginners, and that decade has done a lot.
A great film, enjoyable for a number of reasons to any number of people. It's not really forceful enough to leave deep lasting impressions past the script and Mulligan, and I imagine that's why it didn't register stronger with the Academy, (though I'd argue that Sarsgaard and possibly Alfred Molina as Jenny's father should have been paid a lot more attention this year) but it is very worthy of the acclaim it has received around the world regardless. 5 stars.
It was a long time coming. I've been familiar with the work of director Warwick Thornton and producer Kath Shelper for a long time, through their joint efforts on award winning shorts Green Bush and Nana, as well as Kath's hella prolific work producing shorts over the last few years in Australia. When it was announced in, what, 2007 that they had fully financed their debut feature Samson And Delilah and were off to start shooting it in remote Australia I was very excited, couldn't wait to see the end product. Of course, it released in Australia after I left, then went on to win the Camera d'Or at Cannes last year. Yes, it played at the London Film Festival, but I missed out on tickets, much to my chagrin. And then an angel sent me a copy of the DVD, and I got to indulge in the joy of watching one of my most anticipated titles of last year.
It didn't disappoint, not at all, probably because everything I heard about it from reviews both at home and internationally seem to speak entirely true. The title characters (played extraordinarily by first-timers Rowan McNamara and Marissa Gibson respectively) are two teenagers living in an Aboriginal community out in the bush. Samson sniffs petrol to get through the boredom of his days and the fact that he doesn't seem to have any real discernible family or friends - though the concept of 'family' in Aboriginal communities is very broad, he seems to be alone. Delilah lives with her grandmother (played by Mitjili Gibson, who also played the titular character in the aforementioned Nana to much acclaim), a painter who sells her impressive canvasses to a white man for a couple of hundred dollars, who then onsells them to a gallery in Alice Springs, where they sell for thousands of dollars (sadly, this is a widely condemned but presumably still oft-practised ritual with Indigenous artists.)
Nana makes jokes about Samson being Delilah's husband, but Delilah seems to not want a bar of it. Samson pushes, forcing himself into her life, until he is sleeping alongside Delilah and Nana outside their little shack. As though seeing that Delilah now has someone else to rely on (however poor he may be at coping with real life outside of his petrol-fume haze) Nana soon passes away in her sleep. In response the two escape their community, stealing a car (which soon runs out of petrol) and making their way to Alice Springs.
They find themselves living under a bridge with alcoholic Gonzo (Scott Thornton - it's a family affair!), stealing to survive, siphoning petrol to numb the pain. Horrible events transpire, mostly directly affecting Delilah, while Samson appears to struggle with any sense of responsibility, friendship or love. He does love her, that is very obvious, but his desperation runs so deep that when something more happens, he does not know how to cope and recedes into his familiar drugged state. It is then left to Delilah to get angry, to get motivated, to get focussed. But the one thing they never give up on is each other.
It is an extraordinary film. There is very little dialogue, and at least half of it (presumably, since the Foreign Language branch of AMPAS qualified it in the shortlist of nine for Best Foreign Language Film last year) is Aboriginal language. Gonzo provides most of the talking, the rambling talks of a drunk, but nary a word is spoken between the two young lovers. In fact, Samson only speaks once, his name, a horrible stutter when entreated by Gonzo in exchange for food.
The performances all round are fantastic. Cinematography by Warwick is beautiful, but not corny beautiful. He doesn't linger on the romance of the outback, simply laying it bare, giving the film a foundation. He lingers just as long on the poverty, on the pain, on the slum-like residence under the bridge. But he doesn't judge it - it is presented, and it is up to you to interpret. Similarly, the story is simple and there for you to make what you want of it. As mentioned, very little is said through the film, at least from the characters mouths. Instead you have to watch the movements, the hand waves, the blinks, the stares, the lack of response, and draw from that what everyone is going through - and they are going through a lot. Warwick lays it all out on the table and allows you to make up your own mind. The film discusses drug abuse in Aboriginal communities, but doesn't lay blame or provoke animosity. He looks at white exploitation of the indigenous population, but doesn't aim for anti-colonialist sentiment. Instead, by seeing it through the eyes of these Aboriginal teenagers, you see that these things so often blown-up in the white media in Australia, so often held up as reasons, excuses or causes for interventions or policing are in fact just a fact of life for those in question. For Samson and Delilah, this just is, and through it they need to find a way to go on.
The film's reception was extraordinary. Outside of the Cannes prize it won a bunch of Australian Film Institute and IF Awards, the Audience Award at the Adelaide Film Festival, a couple of Australian Writers Guild awards, the Asia Pacific Screen Award for Best Feature... everywhere it goes it seems to be loved. And deservedly. Apparently the rating at rottentomatoes.com is 100% fresh - damn fine. But it is not only critically adored, but was a fair commercial success at home. In a stellar year for Australian films at the local box office, Samson and Delilah led the way for most of the year, taking in over AUD$3mil. That may not seem like a lot, but if you look at the track record, especially for non-blockbuster or non-starred films it is absolutely phenomenal. For a little Aboriginal film with virtually no dialogue, no known performers, from a first time filmmaker to go that far is virtually unprecedented, and is, quite frankly, encouraging. After years of being wary of local product after being pummelled by a whole pile of shit for too long, audiences finally returned when the going was good. To see that an Indigenous musical, Bran Nue Dae, is now pulling similar figures this year shows that it wasn't just a fluke, an aberration, either. Go team.
5 perfect stars. I don't know if it has a Nth American or UK distributor, but I hope it gets one. Otherwise, it's well worth checking out where you can order in a DVD copy from Oz. And here's hoping Warwick and Kath get to go for a second round soon.
Woah. So, when I decide to give myself some sort of semblance of a life for a few days, everything falls to shit. As of last Wednesday, I was actually one film ahead of my schedule. Not anymore! I'm now five (count 'em) behind, and the assumes I watch one today (which I obviously will.)
But in the meantime, a quick write up on Francois Ozon's 2000 picture Under The Sand. I say quick mostly because it just didn't affect me much, so I don't feel I have that much to say about it.
Charlotte Rampling plays Marie, a woman who goes on holiday to her seaside house with her long-term and dearly loved husband Jean (Bruno Cremer.) When he suddenly goes missing in the sea, presumed dead, she outwardly appears unable to accept the fact, going on referring to him in the present tense (not only in the kind of acceptable mixed sense of 'my husband enjoyed classical music', rendering him her current husband [which I guess is probably technically true] whilst acknowledging that he is no longer capable of enjoying, well, anything, but more in the sense of 'my husband is waiting at home with a glass of wine and a roast dinner.' Cray-cray shit, really), refusing to identify his body at the morgue, spending his money like he was still earning it, randomly breaking down during her workday, and simultaneously carrying on a new relationship with another man, who knows that Jean is dead but plays along with her ruse.
A lot has been made of Rampling's performance, and it is good, but I just don't think it is that mindblowing. It's a simple, slow-burner of a film, without any major emotional climaxes that could be expected of a film along these lines, and she plays it very well. She does seem to inhabit this tortured self-denial whilst attempting to maintain an air of dignity and grace around her grief. But I found it all just a little blah. A little safe, a little boring. Everyone playing along with her... did none of her friends and associates, of who we come into contact quite a few, think that she might actually be causing herself more harm, and push her harder to get help? Marie seemed to be floating randomly and helplessly through space, occasionally having her path slightly distorted by the weak magnetism of someone she knew, but they always pulled back before really changing her trajectory. And that made it a little boring.
So, not that enamoured. 2.5 stars.
