At Darren's World of Entertainment

Monday, 23 July 2018

Minding The Gap: NZIFF Review

It's possibly fair to say that Bing Liu's debut documentary film was never planned to be anything more than capturing stolen moments of boys-being-boys, skateboarding and shooting the breeze in small town America.

But what emerges from the film, once it settles from its initial shots of kerb-hopping and open-road boarding and divests into life, is a fascinating, maddening and saddening portrait of what it means to be a boy, and how it is to grow up a man these days.

Thrusting the camera on Zack and Keire, and himself, Bing Liu's film finds a horrific connection that goes deeper than simply half-piping and boarding. Some of it comes from Zack feeling he's been forced into being a man, when his girlfriend becomes pregnant; and some of it comes from when Keire starts to feel lost, looking to his past for answers, and some of it comes from Liu himself looking to his past.

It may sound gimmicky but what occurs organically in this film is a wealth of paradigm shifts, each more subtle than the last, but each with more resounding consequences than are to be expected.

It's also a study of middle American life, of towns abandoned and of prospects unlikely; there's a depressing lyricism to what unfolds as the lads go from initial jackassing around on camera to waxing lyrical about where it went wrong or where it's going. Hope is randomly allocated in Zack and Keire's lives, but there's much to be gained from what seem to outside viewing like small victories for flighty spirits such as Zack.

Keire's trajectory is as interesting as Zack's too, as he faces what it means to be African-American in among his friends - in many ways, this is seismic stuff softly explored on the screen and subtly worth engaging with.

Minding the Gap is not a doco where bombs are dropped, more where hints of minor frustrations and realisations occur - but in their universality, these are compellingly and precisely told for the most part. There's a feeling one conflict is sadly left unexplored, but equally that confrontation is another consequence of friendship and boundaries.

Ultimately, Minding the Gap is a human take on where boys struggle with being men, and where toxic masculinity resides ; poignant, powerful and prescient, it's a documentary that lingers long after.

Pick of the Litter: NZIFF Review

So, here it is - this year's Kedi.

Whereas the tale of Turkish kitties was a story of animals, their surroundings and the people that adopt them, Pick Of the Litter is an unashamed piece of furry kryptonite, determined to deliver some close ups of adorable puppies.

Choosing to follow five Labrador puppies as they undergo training for guide dogs for the blind in the USA is not the most taxing of intentions.

However, Dana Nachman and Don Hardy's documentary is unashamed in its desires and is oblivious to the notion of going deeper in this once-over-lightly piece that just about entertains for its 80 minute run time.

Primrose, Poppet, Phil, Potomac and Patriot are all born within the walls of a Guide Dogs building in California and all have the potential to change future owners lives. But not if they fail basic training and their puppy raisers don't meet the mark.

With a couple of the pups passed around different trainers, the interesting parts of the film and the dilemmas which reside within are largely ignored in a brisk and brutally cute piece that's aiming for Hallmark thrills rather than in-depth investigations.

Perhaps the more interesting and knottier elements of the film are dropped in amid the cutesier touches as the dogs are "career changed" (lingo for being moved out of the programme) and disappear from our immediate view.

Questions over the ethics of in-house breeding, what kind of a life that must be, the cost of doing it, both financially and emotionally for the organisation and more specifically the trainers are vaulted over at such speed that it's dizzying.

It's a shame as there are hints of some darkness here that are genuinely worth exploring, and which linger rather than being dug into. Some trainers have the dogs taken from them with a disconnect between the administration and the owners unable to be reconciled; issues over whether there are problems with expectations are hinted at - there's a lot more meat to be explored here, but doesn't get done so.

It's not to say that Pick Of The Litter isn't engaging - certainly, if you're an animal lover, you'll adore it, and you'll end up invested in which of the five pups - if any, given the high rate of failure - make it to the end of the training.

And there's certainly no denying the power of the simplicity of seeing the joy on new owners' faces and prospective lives being changed just by having a dog get through this.

But Pick Of The Litter is very much a once-over-lightly kind of pleasantly presented doco, that lacks deep insight but gives cutesy cuddles - not a bad thing for the winter months, but certainly there's a nagging feeling that a stronger documentary definitely lies within, waiting to be coaxed to the surface.

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story: NZIFF Review

Known to many only as a Hollywood icon, Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story is one of those docos that will change your perception of her.

Prevalent in the golden era of 1940s Hollywood, Lamarr lived another life, one which she was passionate about, but never really gained the recognition for.

And it's this doco by Alexandra Dean which sets out to correct her reputation and give her the kudos she deserves as an inventor.

It's not exhaustive by any means - however, it is concise and well-executed; coupled with what Dean does to expand greatly on it is flesh out the belief that Lamarr died without telling her story.

Helped by the discovery of a lost interview which literally sat by the bin, the mix of archival footage, candid clips, and a desire to reclaim her reputation, what emerges of Lamarr is not just a fascinating insight, but an intriguing piece of empowerment for those fighting against the perception of belief.

With a reasonable pace that never feels rushed or hurried, yet gives enough detail to flesh out the deserved yet ignored reputation, Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story has some directorial flourishes to revel in.

Whether it's animations on black and white pictures or illustrations of past events, Dean creates a wider more engaging tapestry than perhaps the one-note historical perception of Lamarr.

It's a fascinating exploration of a woman undermined and gazumped by others, but one which also demonstrates the conflict over her own doubts of her place in the world.

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story may start out seeming like a hagiography, fulsome in its praise for the actress, but the smart diversion into what her true calling was and how she remained dignified when all around abused it, is nothing short of inspiring and deeply admirable.

Sunday, 22 July 2018

NZIFF Q&A - East to East

My film is....
A story about a group of teenagers from Aranui High School, in East Christchurch, New Zealand, who are offered the opportunity to compete in the iconic Coast To Coast multisport race in tandem with three legends of the sport. Together with Steve Gurney, Nathan Fa'avae and Emily Miazga, they enter a world very different to their own.
Themes:
Overcoming adversity
Smashing boundaries, both mental and physical
Opening and inspiring minds

The moment I'm most proud of is....
Right now! – I’m so proud to have this wee film selected for NZIFF. I’m so delighted that we can share this story with a wider audience!

The reason I carried on with this film when it got tough is.....
Because of the students themselves … if they can finish that race – I can finish this film! There’s a moment at the end when Steve Gurney says “I get really emotional thinking that you can make a difference to someone”, and I think this sums it up. In my mind the film was part of the journey for these students too. It’s something they can see and feel, to help hold onto that feeling of accomplishment. When things were tough, it was easy to be inspired by the students on the screen themselves.

The one moment that will resonate with an audience is.......
When Taitama decides to pull out. We’ve all been in a situation where it becomes too hard and we want to give up, and I think it is a moment that people will connect with and understand. There’s also a point later in the film when we learn a bit more about Taitama’s history, and this helps to fill in the story and it’s very moving.

The hardest thing I had to cut from this film is........
There were some hilarious moments at McDonalds restaurant the day after the race. Dan De Bont had rashly said he would shout them as much Maccers as they could eat, after the race. And he did! I took a camera but it didn’t make it to the final cut

The thing I want people to take from this film is ......
That you can achieve more than you think you can.
Rawiri Waaka (the students teacher) sums it up nicely when he talks about life being hard but it’s what you “do” that counts. I hope people are inspired to get out there and make a difference – either in their community or in themselves!

The reason I love the NZIFF is.......
They love film! They celebrate it and shout about it! Their programme is varied and there is always something for everyone. Their support of local filmmakers is wonderful, and yet they manage to balance it with a fantastic selection of the top international films too. I love being able to see shorts and features, docos and dramas in the one festival.
What the 50th NZIFF means to me is......
It’s a celebration of how much they have done over the last five decades, and a great way to look forward to the next 50 years! What an honour to be a part of their history!

Shoplifters: NZIFF Review

Shoplifters' tale of a Japanese family living in the slum downtrodden house is meant to shock from its beginning.

With the opening seeing a father and son stealing from a supermarket in a co-ordinated military style set of precision manoeuvres, we're thrown into the family world of the Shibatas.

Living in low income and scraping by, the family's world is changed when the father brings home a little girl he sees living outside a house with no apparent parents nearby. As the girl doesn't want to go home and shows signs of abuse, despite the strain on the family, they keep her within their walls, a family giving love to an unknown.

However, that decision could prove as fateful as it will fruitful.

Subtle and perhaps aiming to provoke empathy throughout, without ever being manipulative Kore-eda's social eye on the affliction of some Japanese families is also a salutation to uncompromising love.

With her big eyes, and cute haircut, the abused little girl is never anything more than a tool to win over the audience, and to cast light on the insidious ways of abuse, so redolent worldwide that it hurts.

While there's humour in this social tale, there's also an undercurrent of anger that Kore-eda provokes in you that this family have to go through so much to just get by. But presented under a sunnier outlook, Kore-eda manages to make proceedings warmer than they perhaps should be, a chance to push a message in ways that could otherwise not work.

The Palmes D'Or winner Kore-eda Hirokazu's Shoplifting is a story that may move you, but ultimately, its last reel reveal feels cheap and easy, a narrative rug-pull aimed to disorientate and reassess.

What it actually does is make you question why some of the characters you've invested in over the past two hours don't do the one thing you'd expect them to. It's a unsettling turn and leaves an after-taste which is hard to shift (and which is too spoilery to discuss here).

While Kore-eda Hirokazu may wish to be saluting love and family in all its forms, and present a world similar to one glimpsed in Sean Baker's The Florida Project by centring on the children, Shoplifters' strength lies in its interactions within the family.

Some threads may go undernourished, and while the reveals at the end may pull together some of the looser ends, there are similar themes of family that Kore-eda has pursued before. Granted, this latest may see a more broken family than previously, but the social realism captured within is nonetheless heartbreaking throughout. And certainly the burst of consciousness and guilt is never belaboured throughout.

A thoughtful piece, but a flawed masterpiece to some, Shoplifters' strength lies in its willingness to expose the double standards of Japanese society - and ultimately, the hypocrisies and selfishness of us all.

First Reformed: NZIFF Review

Taxi Driver director Paul Schrader's return centres around the loss of faith, and the questioning of our place in the world when disillusionment comes knocking.

A rarely better Ethan Hawke plays country priest Reverend Toller, who preaches in the First Reformed church to no more than a handful of parishoners. The church has been largely abandoned in favour of the bigger flashier mega church Abundant Life nearby (headed up by Cedric the Entertainer's pastor).

Deciding to carry out an experiment of writing a diary for a year under the self-examination of "When writing about one's self, one should show no mercy", (a form of self-flagellation perhaps?) Toller's world changes when new parishoner Mary (Amanda Seyfried) asks him to counsel her despondent-at-the-state-of-the-world husband.

But Toller's world begins to spiral down when his own doubts, and ailments boil further up, threatening to erupt in an explosive manner.

First Reformed's carefully choreographed descent is a compelling and, at times, unsettling and frightening watch.

Subtleties and nuances point to where the intensity of the story is going, but the shocks when it heads that way are none the less impactful for it. The crisis of faith can not only be confined to Toller, but to many in the world we currently inhabit - Schrader's universal worries are unsettling and frighteningly common.

Hawke delivers a thoughtful and crafted turn as Toller, a man for whom anger seems the right and righteous path to take - and certainly, the shocking elements work well as Hawke's way of selling the path seem logical and even empathetically understandable. Troubles and torment swirl together in one ugly brew, but Hawke never portrays Toller as a less than human figure grappling for his own soul and peace of mind.

There's also a seething in Schrader's story here - an anger at corporate negligence and buyouts of morals; a betrayal at how life can be abused; there's much to dwell on in Schrader's swelling play as he levels at the unswerving forces of destruction eating away at our planet and our souls. Certainly, there are elements of Taxi Driver that swoop unexpectedly in, similarities too hard to ignore.

First Reformed's descent is all too plausible; its crisis of faith all too familiar and its current world despondency all too engrossing.

What First Reformed does is more than allude to Schrader's past. There are theological discussions to delve into, and a polarising ending that will provoke much debate - this is a film that burns with an intensity, and burns with a longer life after the lights have gone up.

In The Aisles: NZIFF Review

Set within the microcosm of a supermarket, German film In The Aisles (aka In Den Gangen) mixes social commentary with sentiment.

A young Joaquin Phoenix lookalike, Franz Rogoswki is Christian, a juvenile offender given a second chance with a stock job at the supermarket. Muted and generally silent, and detached, Christian's paired up with Bruno and begins to learn the ropes of working the night restocking job.

However, when he sees Toni Erdmann's Sandra Huller's Marion (aka Miss Sweet Goods because of where she works), he falls instantly for her, finding his reason to try to want a better life for himself.

In Den Gangen has little in the way of plot that propels it along, or tension (aside from whether Christian will actually get his forklift licence), but what it does is present a picture of how society interacts when forced to do so.

Director Thomas Stuber draws together his cast to deliver some deadpan lines, and comments that amuse greatly early on. He has also an eye for the absurdity of this microcosm, as well as the beauty of smaller interactions.

The film opens with the Blue Danube before a carefully choreographed clutch of forklifts dance in and out of the aisles, each moving in time with the music and each moving like ballet dancers. It's a hypnotic start that finds beauty in the most mundane of worlds. Even some of Christian's early inactions in the aisles have the touches of silent comedy about them, as his learning curve begins.

But as the scope of the film widens out, and we glimpse a world outside of the supermarket, there's an ugliness of what lies beyond the walls. It's an intriguing touch that presents the outside as something less than savoury, and of how workers forced together create their own little universes with little or no eyes to what lies beyond.

The latter third of the film revels in a sombre tone and there's certainly a discord in reconciling some of the apparent gentle giant Christian's actions to the tender portrait that emerged earlier on. Disappointingly, Stuber has no interest in dealing with the moral issues, choosing to pursue his ideal to the end.

And certainly as In Den Gangen continues, there's a feeling the film's grown out past its short story elements, as its plies the camaraderie with elements of tenderness. And the stalking is troublesome at best, an almost betrayal of the sweet nature of those living on the peripherary of what's considered the norm.

Ultimately, the melancholy In The Aisles is an intriguing film, an examination of the social microcosm of the shift workers, and a small salutary piece extolling the virtues of daily inconsequential interactions.

The Green Fog: NZIFF Review

The Green Fog is a film which really defies review in many ways.

In assembling footage from over 100 San Francisco set TV series and movies, director Guy Maddin's done something akin to turning on a radio and cycling repeatedly through channels, with the static inadvertently creating a narrative by mistake more than by design.

However, design is the big thing for Maddin here, with the assemblage working well in some parts and less well in others.

Some scenes feel shoehorned in (mainly the latter day material in honesty) but for the large part, the assemblage of classic material works well, with scenes interlaid like a giant overlaying jigsaw and segueing cleverly into each other.

The Green Fog is funny too, with an extended Chuck Norris sequence providing inadvertent humour over similar facials and cheesy looks. There's also a clever obliteration of dialogue throughout, with loops and looks giving more than anything else could to convey something - it's cleverly done in many ways.

But it's also frustrating for those non- cinephiles as well - certainly, there's an overall feeling that The Green Fog itself which pops up here and now has little to do with anything, and there's no definite clue as to what it's supposed to be come the "film's" conclusion.

There's an anarchy present in The Green Fog, and thankfully it doesn't outstay its welcome - but it's overly smart and smug at times, a cinephile's wet dream and a scrambled San Francisco broadcast that bemuses more than anything.

Aga: NZIFF Review

Opening with potentially one of the most visually arresting images of the festival, genial and benign in its intentions, Aga is an intriguing, minimalist slice of slow cinema.

Set in a location unknown, but against a backdrop of snowy wastelands, it's the story of an old couple, Nanook and Sedna.

This duo, old and wizened, but clearly blessed with a love for each other that's endured more than just the harsh winters on show, spend their time in their yurt, living the traditions of their ancestors.

From ice-fishing to lying back in a snow angel on the frozen wastes as a plane and its chem-trails head over, life is simple. But it's becoming more of a struggle for this duo - and with life encroaching on them, things are about to cataclysmically change.

Subtle and slow, Aga's take on climate change and the impact on smaller lives cannot be underestimated.

Equally, director Milko Lazarov's eye for some truly impressive vistas demands to be seen on the biggest screen. Whether it's the aformentioned opening shot, or the subsequent shot of Nanook looking like an ant as he rides across the white wastelands in a dog-pulled sled, the visuals are astounding.

But if the scope of the visuals are vast, the intent of the drama is intimate.

Slow in its unveiling, deliberate in its pacing, and microcosmic in its moments, Aga revels in its revelations. Its connection to nature is apparent and inherent, and the commentary from without by the viewer will require some joining of the dots, but that's by no means a bad thing.

Aga won't be to everyone's tastes, but this slice from the Berlin Film Festival is an intriguing offering, that haunts with both melancholy and elegance.

The Ice King: NZIFF Review

A doco that's as much about showing the balletics of ice skating as it is interested in delving into its protagonist's torture, James Erskine's The Ice King celebrates John Curry.

To be frank, he's possibly a name that's less familiar to some, but Erskine's fulsome piece could ensure that changes - and Curry becomes known more about his ice-capades than being thrust into the spotlight after securing a gold medal at the 70s Olympics and coming out "off the record."

Using voiceover interviews, rather than endless talking heads, and with letters from Curry himself helping to sell and tell the story, The Ice King is not really your traditional documentary and also not really your traditional sports story.

"Whatever greatness I possess, there are demons of equal value" is a phrase uttered twice in this piece, and it becomes clear that Curry's life is haunted, blighted by reaction from his father to his desire to learn ballet and by the melancholy which hits his life as it goes on.

Interestingly though, Erskine only really ever skates around the issue of the depression and it comes more strongly to light in the back half of the film where Curry's time outside of the skating spotlight and as he toured with his own company becomes more relevant.

It's helped little by the fact hardly much archive material of Curry's skating exists, so there are times when it feels like the film dwells too long on one performance. And yet, watching Curry at work, is mesmerising, a confluence of skill and desire, sadness and loneliness all wrapped up in one performance (regardless of whether it's handheld footage from an audience, or intercutting ballet with his interpretation of the similar).

Erskine uses reasonable aplomb to pull the story together, and this Storyville entrant is certainly solid enough, but while it's balanced and compact, it never fully feels like the rub of the man is actually fully exposed.

It's a muted piece, that enlightens and enthralls occasionally, but never fully grips when the spotlight shifts from what Curry could do on the ice - at the end, he still remains an enigma to the audience.

Holiday: NZIFF Review

An icy debut from Danish director Isabella Eklöf, Holiday's message is kind of clear - power corrupts.

Victoria Carmen Sonne is Sascha, who finds herself in an Aegean holiday, complete with all the trappings. That is to say, if the trappings come from the dirty money world of gangsters.

Under a bad blonde dye job, Sascha initially seems uneasy over settling in to gangster Michael's criminal family and slightly 18-30 tacky holiday world. But as the film progresses, she goes deeper in, her uncertainty mirrored by a burgeoning friendship with Tomas, an innocent holiday flirtation outside of the family.

Bling, Bodrum and bodies may shimmer in Holiday, but there's an iciness to this film which is maintained throughout. The sun may shine, and everyone may appear to be having a good time, but nastiness is never far away, implied often more than an implicit.

Except for two scenes which set the rest of the film apart and which form the crux of what happens - spoilers prevent discussion, but the repugnancy of both makes for difficult viewing, that opens up much of a window into Sascha's world.

Isabella Eklöf has fashioned something both difficult and obtuse here, a startling film that really only has Sascha, Michael and Tomas in its frame. Other characters seem extraneous to events around them, details of them ignored and not fleshed out - a sign that nothing matters but what this gangster’s trophy girlfriend is undergoing.

Essentially riffing on power corrupting, the corrosion of criminals and the tentacles of ugly despair wrapping around them all, Holiday is trippy at times, sickening in others. The wallops don't come till near the end, with Eklöf maintaining the dread as much as is necessary, but never holding back.

Holiday seethes - and in parts too, the audience may do so as well.

Stray: NZIFF Review

Mixing in elements of Starred Up, the landscapes of New Zealand and edges of last year's great festival hit God's Own Country, Dustin Feneley's strikingly sparse Stray is a ferocious debut.

Focussing in on Kieran Charnock's Jack who finds himself on parole for GBH, it's the story of one man's attempted escape from the confines of his own tortured demons and prison. Trapped in central Otago and taunted by something within, Jack's routine is one of isolation above all else.

But that changes when he returns home one night to find Grace (Arta Dobroshi) in the woods - in one of the film's rare scenes of action. She's seeking refuge and Jack reluctantly agrees to provide shelter...

Stray is a feature in no hurry to get where it's going and it's all the better for it.

It takes at least half of the film before the protagonists meet, and there are very few words spoken, though Charnock offers up some extreme subtleties in how he changes his interactions when there's someone else, someone unknown in his orbit.

But it's in his interactions with others that the true pain starts to emerge, and Charnock channels the unease well. Equally Dobroshi, with her unfamiliarity and unease gives Grace an edge that makes their connection understandable and natural.

Feneley's made the film a lighting dream; from the clear crisp shots of the outside mountains to moments of intimacy within the cabin, the screen is rarely looked more enticing. The South Island's rarely looked better either, a combination of both desolation, isolation, beauty and despondency all wrapped up into one big screen parcel.

Its ending may seem abrupt and potentially up for debate, but Stray's connection and capability for exploring the human connection makes this debut a tenacious one and marks Feneley out as a Kiwi talent to watch.

Saturday, 21 July 2018

American Animals: NZIFF Review

A sizzling and hyper-stylised drama that blends heist aesthetics and thrills with contemporary interviews, Bart Layton's American Animals is a slick film that grips and pulses from the outset.

Assembling a clutch of young actors (including American Horror Story alum Evan Peters and The Killing of a Sacred Deer's Barry Keoghan), it's the story of Spencer Reinhard (Keoghan) and his part in a library heist which took place at Transylvania University in Kentucky in 2004.

Despite the fact he has everything he needs in life, but bemoaning the fact that he's after some kind of life-altering experience to change him as an artist, Spencer forms a friendship with a hyper Warren Lipka (Peters).

Hitting on the idea to rob the library's rare book collection and its multi-million dollar haul, Warren and Spencer recruit two others to their plan - and start pulling together a heist.

Jumping between interviews of the real people involved and the drama, with moments of fourth wall breaking and unreliable narrators, American Animals' aesthetic and vibe seizes from the outset.

Layton assembles the pieces with the same kind of compelling bravura we witnessed in his doco The Imposter, but never loses sight of the two main leads in all the action.

Bringing the kind of tension that was missing from the recent Ocean's 8 film, the heist preparations excel - a swirling interplay of ideas executed in the head benefitting from taut editing and a pulsing soundtrack of music. It's a perfect insight into the minds of those involved over how it should play out, and for an audience, it's never less than gripping.

To say more about American Animals is to betray the sense of what plays out, a bastardisation of the American dream and a warning that nothing comes for free - even with talent. But Layton's less focussed on the themes of the piece, laying them out for subtle watchers to pick up on.

He's more interested in providing a film that thrills, in a format that makes the very best of docu-drama, with the emphasis on the drama. It helps the general idea of the heist is so audacious and the premise so compelling, but what American Animals also does is deliver two impressive turns in Keoghan and Peters.

Peters displays the intensity we've come to know from AHS but gives his Warren a kind of gleeful Joker style mania, the kind of guy you'd want to hang out with at a party. Keoghan, meanwhile, gives Spencer a feeling of being lost, an artist struggling to find their voice, and a would-be criminal struggling with his moral compass.

Throughout American Animals, the queasily compelling mix works incredibly well; the slick stylish piecing together of the elements of the drama and the documentary add much to what transpires - a portrait of the dispossessed and the bored - but it also gives the audience a thrill ride that has as much substance as it does style.

Lean On Pete: NZIFF Review

An entirely heart-breaking film that keeps its feet firmly on the ground, 45 Years director Andrew Haigh's Lean On Pete will destroy you if you have any sense of empathy.

Newcomer Charlie Plummer delivers a delicate and fragile turn as Charley, a kid who's been around the traps thanks to a dad who keeps moving about and thanks to a mom who abandoned them when he was younger.

Settling in Portland in the latest of their travels, Charley's drawn to a local race track, where he strikes up a working relationship / surrogate father relationship with Steve Buscemi's been-round-the-tracks Del and one of Del's horses, Lean On Pete.

Intuitively bonding with Pete as he's the outsider, the sensitive Charley grows closer to the horse, despite Del's insistence he's not a pet, and begins to realise the horse is being over-worked.

With things on the home front facing crisis point and with Lean On Pete's future uncertain, Charley makes a fateful decision, feeling cornered and with only one place to go, setting in motion a chain of events.

Lean On Pete reeks of empathy and delicacy; with a turn from Plummer that's nothing short of sensationally sensitive, Charley is a kid who's fallen and is falling through the cracks. Wisely, Haigh underplays his hand, with the social commentary coming through later on in the piece, but early on, the film shows disparate families growing and societies forced to make decisions out of economic necessity.

But Lean On Pete's strength lies in the way the message is handled, rather than its delivery; it's a tale of outsiders in society all throughout, anchored by a vulnerable lead who heads off on the old American road trip for soul-destroying reasons more than anything else. It's in the subtleties it finds its power, and it's in its delivery of them that Lean On Pete soars.

Buscemi, Chloe Sevigny and Travis Fimmel make for good bedfellows in this, each an American hit by the reality of life, but it's Plummer who's searing and sensational throughout. As Charley, he has to do a great deal of the lifting, but every chance he gets Plummer steals it (literally in parts), ensuring that his character is wracked with guilt and doubt throughout but is never anything other than relatable.

There may be a social commentary on current America here, but Haigh doesn't dwell on it, simply choosing to depict the reality and blessing the film with some stunning vistas and some unfussy and uncomplicated horse racing scenes.

Make no mistake, Lean On Pete will break your heart - it will have you reaching for the closeness of a family unit, and the uncomplicated love; but it will do a little more than that too - having you yearn for happiness for all, while simultaneously embracing the sadness of what life throws your way.

The Guilty: NZIFF Review

Taut, terrific and twisty, The Guilty's captive setting and lead man make director Gustav Möller's claustrophobic call centre flick one of the most compelling of the festival.

Nearing the end of his potentially last shift, Jakob Cedergren's policeman Asger Holm is a troubled man. With a court appearance the next day, press hounding him, and colleagues clearly less than enamoured with him, Asger appears to simply want to get it done, and move on.

A series of emergency calls come in - each more mundane than the next in his eyes, but each vital to those dialling for the help. Then a call comes in that sets his senses off - an apparent kidnapping.

With the clock ticking in real-time, Asger decides to go back to his policeman roots and try and solve the case....

To say much about The Guilty's reveals is to spoil the elements carefully placed together by Cedergren and director Möller.

Background pieces are trickled through, each dripfed when needed and each naturally inserted into the narrative rather than shoe-horned in. As Asger tries to piece together the kidnapping, the audience is left piecing together him - it's a fascinatingly compelling touch from Möller and one which is wonderfully played by Cedergren's subtleties. The smallest of looks here, the slightest of twitches of behaviour there reveal more than screeds of exposition ever could - and The Guilty sells it right down the line.

Möller also delivers some directorial flair into the setting as well - he refuses initially to show anyone other than Asger in focus, hinting at Asger's perception that others around him are worthy of his time and temperament. Asger himself is never pictured in anything other than close up until it starts to unravel for him - all demonstrating more about character than dialogue would ever achieve.

As a result The Guilty becomes a film that looks like it's destined for a Hollywood remake. Sure, it's got touches of Locke and Buried, but it's also got a panache that's all its own and a sleekness which sets it above many other entries.

Clever, compelling, and character-led, The Guilty is a festival must-see - a stripped back, pared down character piece that's almost Shakespearean in its tragedy. See it now, preferably Hollywood miscasts its lead in its remake.

The Cleaners: NZIFF Review

If you ever wanted a reason to delete your social accounts and reassess your life, The Cleaners is that film.

Distinctly terrifying and definitely a sign of our depressing online times, The Cleaners turns its eye on those who police Facebook and other social channels by following five content moderators who reside in the Philippines and whose job it is to moderate what is out there.

With a daily target of some 25,000 pieces of image content to hit, these drones are understandably dead behind the eyes, their lives dictated by the flickering of the computer screen, the clicking of the mouse, and the soulless utterance of the phrases "Ignore" or "Delete" like some kind of zombie line control monsters.

"We're just like policemen," one of them intones as they enter a faceless building to begin a thankless task of poring over beheadings, nudity, child pornography and other deviant material posted.

What directors Hans Block and Moritz Riesewieck choose to do with this piece though is to scatter their stories (and their limited backgrounds) with those who want the material to be seen.

So a painting of a Trump picture with a small penis that went viral is approached from both sides - the moderator tonelessly reveals why it was removed and the artist who believes it's freedom of speech presents their case thousands of miles away.

What The Cleaners doesn't do is pass judgement - and maybe from time to time, it would be wise to see the decisions questioned and the higher-ups interviewed.

Certainly in cases where children's bodies are depicted washed up on the shores and where a very famous Vietnam picture is talked about being removed because of nudity and gentialia, there becomes a meatier debate to be had - but the directors don't seem to want to dive into it, which is a frustration, but a sign of the depressing world we appear to now inhabit.

There's plenty of debate to be had here, and perhaps the intention is to start some kind of discordant discussion, a rumination on what the big media players are doing to stifle free speech and how content moderators can't really be the last line of defence - especially when cultural differences are the major stumbling block and a one-size-fits-all mentality just doesn't wash.

Bleak in many ways, psychologically depressing for anyone who uses social media or deals with communities, The Cleaners maybe goes a little too skin deep on the implications for free speech and lets off the moderators who strongly believe "Algorithms can't do what we do."

A sobering story of electronics and social media over-taking the world we inhabit and the morals we should hold dear, The Cleaners is perhaps one of the most terrifying portraits of 21st Century online life ever committed to the screen.

Searching: NZIFF Review

Cast: John Cho, Debra Messing, Joseph Lee, Michelle La
Director: Aneesh Chaganty

Searching taps into the digital world we live in and the price we pay for living online.

A solid and empathetic Cho stars as David Kim, whose life is changed when his daughter goes missing. As he tries desperately to track her down, with the help of a detective (Will and Grace star Debra Messing). he discovers he knows little to nothing about who his daughter really is...

Searching has a gimmick - it's a smart digital film thriller played out with everything unfolding via a computer screen. Admittedly, the contrivances come piled high in the back third of the film, threatening to topple the house of cards that's piled high, but there's a lot to digest beforehand.

Chaganty opens with a clever digital montage of the family, a reminder of how much we catalogue online these days, and how computers are so much about our memories as well as the RAM within. In many ways, it's a digitised version of the opening of Up, but for the Facebook generation.

If the gimmick is smartly executed by digital native Chaganty, it's also humanised by Cho's performance. Anchored with a turn that's both empathetic and gripping, Cho's desperation feels real as he plays off a screen and Face time conversations. The anguish etched on his face is never over-played, and he holds the story strongly.

Chaganty spins the thread as far as he can, but the back stages of the film feel like they have piled up the coincidences a little too highly, and while the smarter technical edges have reminiscences of Kristen Stewart's Personal Shopper, Searching always constantly feels gripping when it needs to.

An outlandish twist seals the deal for Searching, but that aside, the film's desire to provide an emotional rollercoaster for the large part works - it may not be perfect, but it's a thrilling tale of the lengths parents will go to and the cautionary fact we're all slowly becoming disconnected in a digital world.

A Kid Like Jake: NZIFF Review

Wisely steering clear of the hysterics that could come from a drama of trying to place a child in a school that's best for them, director Silas Howard's film version of Daniel Pearle's play is a piece that keeps itself grounded throughout.

Claire Danes and Jim Parsons play parents Alex and Greg, who seem diametrically opposed to their parenting approach - she's uptight, and almost neurotic in his eyes and he's indifferent and calm, to the point of comatose in hers.

Issues are further complicated by their son Jake whose desires extend to cross-dressing, a Disney princess obsession and long tresses as well as dresses which is causing problems when trying to pigeon hole him for future schools.

Inevitably, conflict arises as the parents find the pull of the familial sending them to places they'd not expected to go.

Imbued with a degree of WASP-ish indifference, it's hard to care really about the problems these guys face, something which would usually prove fatal to a drama. But by keeping everything grounded, Howard's manipulation of his actors and their commitment to the cause offers up more than just an insight into parenting choice, but also the deepest of human foibles and trivialities.

As Danes ratchets up the control-freakery, Parsons' laid-back approach threatens to derail everything - this at-times kitchen sink drama does inevitably boil over in one mightily familiar scene to many (parents or otherwise) but rarely, unfortunately, transcends its play-like setting.

However, it scores highly for its common touch, its exploration of doubt and its desire to avoid throwing the kid Jake into the middle; smartly, this works when it should and only occasionally teeters.

Gurrumul: NZIFF Review

Some may not be familiar with Australian musician Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu, but this doco may look to change some of that.

Paul Damien Williams' piece follows the history of the Australian artist, whose use of soulful Aborigine tunes and definitive voice captivated a generation back in 2008.

Mixing Indigenous languages and simple music, Gurrumul's success was guaranteed, but what came with it was something more than perhaps blind musician Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu actually wanted.

Williams' piece is somewhat confined by the fact that the reclusive Gurrumul was no fan of talking to the media - not out of arrogance or indignance, as an early interview shows, but more out of discomfort.

Despite being gently persuaded to try and engage, Gurrumul stands his ground, preferring to let the music speak for itself, and partly staying true to his reclusive nature. It hampers what Williams may have set out to do, but what it does do, as it's forced in another direction is to promote the enigma and mystery of Gurrumul.

Fans include the likes of Sting, Elton John and Bjork - none of whom are included here, as Williams doesn't wish to pursue a hagiography of the man.

Equally, even though Gurrumul was photographed with the likes of Obama and was a star at the Australian music awards, Williams' piece reveals the pain he felt over being about to break the American market, and the disconnect the idea of fame offered compared to his Indigenous roots.

It's this touch which allows Williams to show more of Gurrumul's background, his life on Elcho Island and why his sense of community and connection to the land was more important than the possibility of fame.

The end result is humbling and while it may be frustrating to some given how the usual biographical documentaries handle their subjects, this spiritual piece talks of tolerance, tradition and offers treats.

Eye-opening in some ways, and a window into another cultural world, Gurrumul insight into cultures is its sole MO, with the music and life of the man very much being a much needed and intriguing extra insight.

Friday, 20 July 2018

Birds of Passage: NZIFF Review

Mining thematically similar edges to 2016's NZIFF entrant, Embrace of The Serpent, director Ciro Guerra's Birds of Passage takes a very familiar story and piles it through a prism of spiritualism, tribal ways and never-seen-before customs.

Much like Embrace of the Serpent's Amazonian world fell apart from the entrance of strangers, so too does the Colombian world of Zaida and her family. Freed after a year imprisoned in a hut, Zaida's courted by Rapayet, who's rebuffed by her family for having no wealth, and unable to afford her dowry.

However, Rapayet meets some members of the US Peace Corp who are in the region (the first hint of incursions ruining culture) and who are after marijuana. Partnering up with a volatile friend, Rapayet discovers the wealth in the marijuana, and sets in motion a chain of events which threatens both their indigenous ways and their own family values.

Guerra's Birds of Passage is a slow watch, a slow-burning intensely interesting take on an overly familiar story of how drugs - and drink - destroy and how feuds are started in the most insidious of ways.

What Guerra and fellow director Cristina Gallego have done is to take the very rote stories and give them a new spin. Thematically familiar to Embrace of the Serpent ie corrupting influence of outsiders, Birds of Passage takes a overly used drugs story trope and files it through a spiritual prism for maximum effect..

The matriarch (very similar to Animal Kingdom's Jackie Weaver) puts a lot of spiritual edge on what's going on early on, leading to Rapayet almost scoffing at her thoughts and superstitions.

But the further into the marijuana mire he goes, the more he comes to realise the portents she'd talked about were true and how the inevitability cannot be avoided.

Split into four chapters and four time zones, complete with a final song, and blessed with some truly deeply rooted performances, Birds of Passage takes you into the world of the Wayuu and their cultures with no prior knowledge needed of what they are. These are universal tales of corruption, of power struggles and of innocence caught in a cross fire that's unnecessary and yet unavoidable.

Packed with a cultural power, and blessed with a tragedy that's all too familiar, Birds of Passage becomes a film that elevates itself as it goes on - it may be slow at times, and could potentially have lost some of its 2 hour run time, but the wonder of what transpires is in line with Guerra's consistent themes of colonialism corrupting indigenous people, of how the white man has effectively ruined lives in the most insidious of ways without even trying and of how families fracture when the most human of sins rear their ugly heads.