Category Archives: Sydney Film Festival

SFF 2013 Film Review: Everyday

20 Thursday Jun 2013

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everydayThe word “everyday” – and not “every day” – suggests that perhaps this film, shot in a documentary style (with four children who are actually brothers and sisters) over a period of 2 years intends to capture an essence of, perhaps ironically, the spectacle of the ordinary day-to-day existence of its’ subjects: a single mother, Karen (Shirley Henderson), with four children who often visit their father, Ian (John Simm), in prison. The circumstances are not common, yet Winterbottom’s fictional story renders them as commonly as he can. The film’s mundaneness does churn a kind of lust for some devastating plot twist, or at least something momentous borne of the true relationship of these children, thrown into a pretence and then instructed to act like themselves, or not act at all. There appears to be enough control – whether cleaned up in post, or directed – that keeps the film, true to its design, as boring as humanly possible. And yes, this plainness, this artful reconstruction of the “everyday” is by no means ironic, it is in fact so accurate, that it’s somewhat off-putting.

Henderson, whose severity makes her an actress deeply suited to comedic or tragic extremes, brings a morbidity to Karen that alienates her from the young actors playing her children. They appear to be frightened of her. Although Winterbottom is sympathetic to her struggle – a woman who travels long distances to see her husband, works at local pub, is put-on by her husband’s neglectful mother, considers an affair with another man – Karen doesn’t seem to have any connection to the children. Her time spent with them exhausts her, and there is no moment in the film when she finds any joy in their company. She is their slave.

The scenes when Simm is visited in prison are great, if only for the two parents’ struggle to communicate honestly with each other in the presence of their children. They almost speak through them, laying blame for their son’s misbehaviour on her neglect or his influence in harsh whispers, followed by long silences. Simm’s prison time is only captured in his comings and goings from his cell. The cellmate may change, the room may change and his conditions of exit are gradually eased, permitting him to take outings with his family, on the order that he bring himself back to gaol. There is some freedom or respite in these outings, but the time is limited and both mother and father – the lovers – must return and complete their mutual sentences of imprisonment. It is a harbouring viewing experience, and rightly should be, because it bestows a sense of time that is enormous (it only runs for 106 minutes) and offers a contraceptive warning, that single-parenting, and loving a large family, is something you will have to do every single day.

SFF 2013 Film Review: The Land Of Hope

08 Saturday Jun 2013

Posted by in 2013, Sydney Film Festival

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land of hopeHaving only experienced Sion Sono through his previous film Himizu (which was an alienating experience), his new and apparently most “mature” effort, The Land Of Hope, was very much a pleasant surprise.

Set during a nuclear meltdown at the fictional prefecture of Nagashima, the film has a contemporary setting that interacts with the recent trauma of the Fukushima nuclear disaster, by acknowledging it into it’s parallel existence through the second-hand stories of it’s characters. Nagashima has a small township and a farming community to supply it. The story centres on the Ono and Suzuki families, both farmers and neighbours, and both made up of 2 parents, one adult son and their sons’ partners.

There a many moments of astounding beauty – too many to list – and one of the finest is the point at which the threat becomes real, and the barricade that renders Nagashima uninhabitable is erected right in Yasuhiko Ono’s front garden. Yasuhiko hears the evacuation sirens and runs out of the house to see men in radiation suits securing the area. The scene begins in black and white, like the extremes of the old man’s fear becoming reality – but also a frightening memory – and then colour is gradually, seamlessly returned to the frame, as he accepts this, and he becomes the first character to accept his fate. Yasuhiko is also haunted by the barricade stakes being driven into his land, a loud mallet hammering them deep like nails in his coffin, and later his son, Yoichi, shares this vision, of the stakes between them, of death barricading him from his father.

A similar case is Mitsuro Suzuki and his girlfriend Yoko’s shared experience with two small children wandering the evacuated township. In their efforts to search for Yoko’s parents, they briefly encounter a young boy and girl looking for a Beatles record in the wreckage. The little girl muses that Japan must move one step at a time, with a ritualistic demonstration of these steps, and a chant “One step. One step.” Mitsuru and Yoko are young adults and a little reckless, they dismiss this with detached remarks along the lines of “how do they know who the Beatles are?” and “they are very mature for their age,” but they are, were and will become this shared vision as they, and the film, progress.

With a magnificent, tragic score and suggestions of Ozu, The Land Of Hope is a mirror into which Japan may gaze to see it’s past of war and disaster, of modernity, of cinema, of ceremony, and mostly of the nation’s spirit, captured beautifully in a traditional dance at an imagined Spirit Festival that Yasuhiko’s wife, Chieko, recreates in the empty, snow-covered streets. Sono has composed a heartfelt love letter to his homeland that is also, in part, a eulogy. The Land Of Hope is definitely something to seek out and a favourite of the festival so far.

SFF 2013 Film Review: A Hijacking

07 Friday Jun 2013

Posted by in 2013, Film, Sydney Film Festival

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A Hijacking 2The opening scene of A Hijacking has Mikkel (Pilou Asbæk), the chef aboard the cargo ship ‘Rozen’ calling his wife from the ship and apologising that he will be home 2 days late. Little does Mikkel know that the 2 day delay he predicted will drag out to months, when the ship is suddenly hijacked in the Indian Ocean, a few days short of Mumbai.

Though we get a glimpse of the sea life before the ship is seized, it is actually the corporate setting of Orion Seaways in Copenhagen that we are made familiar with and the particularly tactful and intelligent sales skills of its CEO, Peter Ludvigsen (Søren Malling). We first meet Peter taking over a deal that one of his employees is trying to finalise with a Japanese company and we learn quickly of his flair as a negotiator, and almost in the same scene, he learns that one of his ships has been hijacked by Somali pirates.

Peter and the board of Orion Seaways enlist the aid of Connor, a British professional who deals in terrorism and hijacking, and refuting Connor’s advice to bring in a third party to communicate with the pirates, Peter decides that he is the best man for the job.

Back on the ship, Mikkel, his captain and his friend Jan have been isolated from the other four crewmen on the ship. The captain has fallen ill, and Mikkel continues his duties as chef to a new, heavily armed and foreign leadership. He is soon introduced to Omar, who explains that he is only the translator between the pirates and Orion Seaways, though this information is suspicious and Omar is a person whose importance and power appear greater than he infers – a guise that may form part of their ransom practice.

The film is enthralling, and more so in the clean, corporate HQ that’s on the other end of the line. The pressure begins to eat away at Peter, as days turn to weeks and to months of negotiations. The events from the Copenhagen end play out like a game of cards, with bets being exchanged and reviewed carefully by both sides to see whose bluff will be called, as the stakes are raised and price reworked. It is an unusual occurrence in the current cinema, and perhaps because it is not an American hostage film, to see such a dangerous situation handled without any military action. The film could have worked beautifully on just the conversations between Peter and Omar, which are tense, nerve-wracking and show director Tobias Lindholm’s and Søren Malling’s obvious talent for drama.

SFF 2013 Film Review: The Human Scale

07 Friday Jun 2013

Posted by in 2013, Film, Sydney Film Festival, Uncategorized

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human scaleThe Human Scale takes a single hypothesis, that traffic in urban areas is detrimental to people’s social health, and with the counsels, and city planners of many of the world’s fastest growing cities, considers planned and practised solutions to the un-organic manner in which people interact in mega cities.

The stars of the documentary are Gehl Architects, a Scandinavian company headed by Jan Gehl, a man whose research into the human activity of inner-city spaces has inspired architects world wide for over 40 years. Where cities have been planned around vehicles (privately owned cars) for the last 100 years, Gehl is interested in measuring pedestrian traffic and activity, the “human scale”, and takes his research to Dhaka, New York, Melbourne, Chongqing, Christchurch and other metropolitan districts. Copenhagen is used as a model for the potential sociability of a public space. In Copenhagen, 35% of the urban population cycle, while only 24% drive – unfortunately no such percentile was offered for any of the other cities the film explores, which makes this particular statistic a difficult to consider, though presumably fewer people ride bikes in all other countries.

The final city that the film assesses is Christchurch in the wake of its destruction in 2011 from a devastating earthquake. Planners were able to, and perhaps for the first time, consult the community of Christchurch about how the city may be restructured to cater for its inhabitants in a more social setting and although thousands of suggestions were put into a model for the government to consider, only a few suggestions may be heard. This is an ongoing dispute with that particular city and in the years to come, and perhaps with the aid and awareness of this film project may be shaped to greater effect.

What could potentially have been a more political film is almost purely a civil venture for director Andreas Dalsgaard and Jan Gehl, and whether or not it will be effective in changing the way we design cities is hard to tell. While attempting to make a film for the urban population of mega cities, it will probably only resonate with other architects and city planners, which is quite likely its intention. The film merely invites us in on the conversation, to see how far it has come. Unfortunately, it does plainly look like a commissioned corporate video for Gehl, and again, perhaps it is only Gehl who can and will make a difference. Definitely for architects.

SFF 2013 Film Review: Mystery Road

06 Thursday Jun 2013

Posted by in 2013, Film, Sydney Film Festival

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mystery roadAt the opening night of the 60th Sydney Film Festival, director Ivan Sen and his leading man, Aaron Pedersen, spoke graciously of all the supporting performers in the film. Such praise was afforded them, because almost all other praise could only go to Sen, who added, charmingly, “I think I did everything else.”

Essentially a western, Mystery Road follows Jay Swan, an indigenous police detective, who, after an unexplained – presumably work related – stint in “the big smoke” returns to his hometown in central Queensland when the body of a local girl is found under the highway.

Jay is met with no warm returns, not from his former “colleagues” of the local police or by his ex or their teenage daughter. Determined to solve his first big case, Jay learns that the girls murder is linked to underage prostitution and drug trafficking and fails to solicit any support from the community in bringing such corruption to an end.

In fact, no one wants to help him. Which, aside from all the cowboy hats and the desert-like surroundings, brings classics like High Noon and Rio Bravo to mind and the violent finale/showdown brings it on home. The film is also, and largely so, a murder mystery but the procedural details – the film is almost entirely composed of interviews conducted by Swan – tend only to lay on thick the cultural divide that he is caught in, rather than involve you in any suspicions.

Pedersen is a strange cowboy, and it is hard to know where he begins and the character of Jay Swan ends. As Jay, he is uncomfortable in his clothes, an indigenous man with a badge, the kind of mix-up that has him walking a narrow line between the two extremely divided groups – there is a fantastic scene of him showing a local boy his gun in exchange for information. He also has a distinctive walk. Not quite John Wayne’s slanted swagger, but a heaviness in his stride that makes him both intimidating and awkward. The police, who include Hugo Weaving, are secretive and smart-mouthed, and have some of the worst on-screen eating habits to date. Jay’s disgust with these white fellas is written almost permanently on his face.

Sen has constructed a slow-burning detective-western that does have an impressive cast of mostly minor characters – the highlight of which is an eccentric, happy-go-lucky Jack Charles, as an elder who appears to be the only well-wisher of the detective’s acquaintance. The film exhibits minimal action other than a sudden and significant amount toward the end, which is worth the wait. Aside from the re-tooling of all the characters’ vocals – which were incredibly deep and loud (though, perhaps the cinema’s fault) – and some strange framing choices, Mystery Road is a good Australian film and rare insight into indigenous life, both in a day-to-day dialogue and considering the racial myths that appear to be perpetuated – by both sides – about which side of the law a black fella belongs, and what lawfulness means in a community that no longer cares.