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Entries in Australia (83)

Thursday
Aug302012

A Love Letter to Noah Taylor

[Editor's Note: Melanie Lynskey Guest Blogging Continues!]

So, the movie Lawless came out last night. I don't know a whole lot about westerns, but I do know this movie is filled with great actors. Including, one of my absolute, all-time, favourite actors, Noah Taylor.

I remember so clearly the first time I saw Noah Taylor in a movie. I was 16, and I saw the movie Flirting, and that was it. I was in love. I loved his face, I loved the way he walked. I loved his voice and the little lisp in it. I loved the way he looked at Thandie Newton so shyly but so directly at the same time. There was such a lovely, innocent quality to him, but underneath it was something really powerful. He was sexy in a very unexpected way. There's a little edge to him and he's so funny in that movie. I went on a Noah Taylor rampage. I saw The Year My Voice Broke, I saw The Nostradamus Kid. At a certain point I realised that the reason I loved him so much was that there is an incredible vulnerability to him. You feel his soul radiating when he's on screen. He just has to glance sideways and you feel your heart twisting in compassion. There is something in his eyes that made me feel like this person has known and understands life, and love, and suffering, and he's putting it up on this screen with no filter. As the young David Helfgott in Shine, he is like a walking open wound. There is such a sweetness to that performance. But you feel him breaking as the movie goes on... just taking the mistreatment and quietly shifting and trying to adjust himself until he collapses inward. It all happens very subtly, but he really sets up Geoffrey Rush's insanely great performance as the older david.

Over the years Noah Taylor has become a truly great and versatile character actor. Every time I see him on screen, I cannot look away. He's played sweet dads (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), rock and roll band managers (Almost Famous), and Adolf Hitler (Max) and been utterly believable as every one. He can play comedy (The Life Aquatic) so beautifully; there is a realness to his humour that is so appealing, and that sweet face can be so goofy when he wants to be goofy. But he can easily access a dangerous quality that can set you on edge. I also love the wide range of genres and sizes of movies he's done. He can do a big silly action movie (Tomb Raider) and look like he's having so much fun while also, totally committing (not easy), and then fit right in to something like The Proposition.

Noah in [from top left]: The Year My Voice Broke, Flirting, Shine, He Died with a Falafel in His Hands, The Life Aquatic, and Submarine

Noah Taylor, I love you, and I'm so happy you're in movies.

- Melanie Lynskey

Next: Chain love letter

Wednesday
Aug222012

MIFF 4: New Gay Films

Glenn here winding down with the Melbourne Film Festival coverage. For whatever reason, MIFF’s selection of queer films is never particularly large. I wasn’t able to attend the AIDS documentary How to Survive a Plague, although I’ve heard it’s a powerful experience, but I did get along to Ira Sachs’ Keep the Lights On that follows a nine-year relationship between a Danish documentary filmmaker (Thure Lindhardt, Into the Wild) and a lawyer (Zachary Booth, Damages, Dark Horse) in New York City. I know Nathaniel’s not a fan (and I can certainly see why as there are problematic areas), but it’s rare for a “gay film” to find a positive foothold in the critical community so that made it a veritable must see.

There’s a moment when Lindhardt’s Erik passes a graffiti sign that reads “FAKE YOUR BEAUTY”, which is actually a good motto for Keep the Lights On. Sachs has certainly made his film look very nice, a professionalism that is sadly lacking from much gay cinema, but it doesn’t quite cover up the fact that the movie doesn’t have anything particularly new to say – in the end it’s still a domestic drama about two people torn apart by tragedy. The actors, especially Lindhardt walking a tightrope of fey, are wonderful and Sachs has imbued the visuals with a warm New York glow without ever resorting to travelogue sightseeing imagery. The song score by Arthur Russell could nauseate some, but I found the dizzying crooning to be lovely. Meanwhile, the gay sex scenes are refreshingly realistic and open, plus the screenplay by Sachs and Mauricio Zacharias thankfully avoids preachy grandstanding about Gay Issues (although an out-of-nowhere AIDS scare is on the nose).

On the flip side… the film is, from my limited readings, based on his own experiences and he has obviously slanted the film in his favour. Lindhardt, as his own stand in, plays a documentarian who wins the prestigious Teddy Award at the Berlin Film Festival… was that his own form of intellectual bribery? Keep the Lights On eventually went on to win the same prize earlier this year. Hmmm. Elsewhere, Booth sadly gets too little to do in spite of his characters downward spiral. Likewise, Paprika Steen (we love her!) is underused as Erik’s sister and feels like a superfluous plot strand that the director didn’t know how to fully utilise. 

It’s certainly no Weekend, or even Brotherhood (a Danish gay drama that also starred Lindhardt), but I did find much to like about this film. It arguably should have ended some ten minutes earlier – a trend of any film festival, surely, are independent productions that should have ended ten minutes earlier – and finished on a more ambiguous note, but it does enough interesting work with the clichés of gay life to make it a rewarding watch. (B)

A conservative Iranian taxi driver whose husband is in jail accepts a fare from a woman she finds on the roadside who’s desperate to flee an arranged marriage. What makes Negar Azarbayjani’s delicate Facing Mirrors so interesting is that the cab passenger is actually a pre-op transsexual. It’s a road trip as unconventional as (to be entirely reductive about it) Transamerica, but… well, you know, better. Unburdened by that American film’s stunt casting of a celebrity, Azarbayjani’s film is able to lend both characters depth and genuine worries of the heart and brain without busying the viewer with “Wow! Look at the transformation! Wow!” style thoughts.

The screenplay by Azarbayjani and Fereshteh Taepoor eventually gets bogged down in the preachy “aren’t we all the same?” semantics that I just praised Keep the Lights On for avoiding. Subtlety is hardly this film’s strong suit. However, there’s still a thrill in seeing Iranian filmmakers take on prickly subjects, and the performance of Shayesteh Irani (the incredible Offside) is a powerful one. (B-)

By far the best of the gay cinema on offer was Aurora Guerrero’s Mosquita y Mari. Traipsing the familiar coming-of-age-while-coming-out path of many before it (like other excellent recent ethnic-centric examples Pariah and Circumstance), this sublime teen drama set amongst an American immigrant community has such an authentic, illuminating quality to it that it proved to be one of my highlights of the entire festival. Starring Fenessa Pineda as a bright young student whose parents see education as a way out of menial labour and Venecia Troncoso as her rebellious, new-girl-in-town friend, Mosquita y Mari is perhaps the finest examinations of real world teenagers I’ve seen since Gus Van Sant’s Paranoid Park.

Guerrero immediately instils her film with a dazzling sense of place. The sun-drenched surrounds of the Huntington Park area is so lovingly lit that you can feel the sweaty brow of the Californian sun permeate through the screen. The cinematography by Magela Crosignani grabbed me with its constant hazy oasis of a far-off big city promising a better life, as well as the purple and orange sunsets that belie its modest budget (this is just one of many films I noticed end credits for thanking Kickstarter, Pozible, and other fundraising schemes). The music choices, too, are fabulous and mirror the ever-expanding horizons of its core characters. Initially peppering the soundtrack with the stereotypical twang of a guitar and the stroke of a mournful piano, the music eventually encompasses jungle trance, hip-hop, Latin, and synth pop. Just one of the many smart moves by this first-time director. As the screenplay tackles identity within a community that struggles with it, the actors – especially the two leads (hey, they actually look like kids!) – really sell the confusion, elation, flirtation and disappointment. This is an impressive, sweet and sincere gem of a film. (A- / B+)

Thursday
Aug162012

MIFF 3: Ruby Sparks, Or Manic Pixie Dream Girl: The Movie!

Glenn of Stale Popcorn fame continues his Melbourne International Film Festival odyssey. He previously spoke enthusiastically on behalf of "Holy Motors" and clapped mildly for future Oscar backlash sufferer "The Sessions".


I wasn’t sure what I thought when I left my sold out session of Ruby Sparks. I think I was initially taken aback by the fact that it was both written by and stars Zoe Kazan (not to mention co-directed by a woman, Valerie Faris, alongside Jonathan Dayton who both made a big splash several years back with Little Miss Sunshine). What exactly was Kazan trying to say about women? Are they all subconsciously wanting to be manipulated by men? What exactly was Kazan trying to say about men? Do they really only want a woman that they can mould into the perfect being? What exactly was Kazan trying to say about herself? Does she really consider herself the most desirable woman in American, the perfect fantasy that any man would conjure up if forced?

 It took me a while to decide that Ruby Sparks – currently screening in America, out soon in other countries – is surely Kazan’s rebuke to the (one presumes) deluge of Manic Pixie Dream Girl characters she gets asked to audition for. She has essentially written herself in the most Deschanel-esque way possible, complete with cutesy mixy-matchy fashion ensembles and frenzied flamboyance. It would be all too diabolically la-di-da – especially given that Paul Dano’s novelist works on a retro typewriter (!!!) – if it weren't littered with moments of genuine sadness. Kazan clearly wrote the film’s second half as her own cathartic piece of performance art as she fluctuates wildly from one personality type to another, before screaming and crying about free will.

It should have come so much closer to intolerable, but somehow it comes together and works. Not as well as Little Miss Sunshine, mind you, but close enough to make its disappointing American box office all the more confusing.

 

Annette Bening and Antonio Banderas show up briefly and have mad fun in the process as a couple of zen hippies, while Chris Messina (filling his niche of Eternally Supportive Boyfriend) has some moments of wide-eyed wonder that really help ground the film’s fantasy plot. I will forgive the filmmakers some lapses in judgement – that ending is troublesome – as most of Ruby Sparks manages to pull off the tricky mechanics of its story with zesty aplomb. Kazan certainly has some harsh words for Hollywood, but the industry doesn’t take too well to women who object to staying in their ill-fitting assigned boxes so maybe we actressexuals should start paying some attention to her sooner rather than later. (B)

More in Melbourne

No matter what one makes of Kazan’s writer/actor effort in the above film, however, will probably be twofold when it comes to Marina Abramovic. The Serbian-born performance artist’s own manifest reads (at least in part) that an artist should never become an idol. The fact that she agreed to a documentary about herself, filmed during a Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) retrospective of her work, whilst her newest piece involves people looking directly at her makes this particularly personal rule stand out like a sore thumb in the thoroughly engaging Marina Abramovic: The Artist is Present. No matter what one things of Abramovic and/or her work, this documentary by Matthew Akers should hopefully prove enlightening even if it never quite reaches the cinematically adventurous heights of its subject. And, hey, nudie bits! (B+ - full review)

Marina will beat you in a staring match

If The Artist Is Present proved an insightful look at the world of performance art, then This Ain’t California does the same for East Germany in the 1980s. Sounds niche, but it’s oh so fun watching Marten Persiel sift through his friends’ early years as rebellious punks. Filled with wonderfully rich super 8 video footage, This Ain’t California shines a light on how the oppressed youth of the GDR discovered American hip-hop and skate culture despite living in the shadow of the Berlin Wall. A very literal east-meets-west deal that sees these new wave teens become intertwined with the corporate world, the Stasi police, the war in Afghanistan, and too many denim jean jackets and man-perms to count. Coupled with an incredible soundtrack plus the pure athleticism of its subjects, this is one unique spin on Americana with a German twist. (B+ - full review)

Lastly, there’s a reason why a film with as big a cast of Jayne Mansfield’s Car hasn’t amassed much in the way of buzz. It’s because it’s not particularly good. Did you know that war is hell and messes with soldier’s minds? Billy Bob Thornton sure thinks you don’t! (C­+)

Saturday
Aug112012

MIFF 2: Will "The Sessions" Make Oscar Feel Good?

[Editor's note: Glenn of Stale Popcorn fame is back to report from Melbourne Iwith a look at an Oscar hopeful that's been working the festival circuit all year - Nathaniel]

I suspect it will be easy for cynical audiences to look upon Ben Lewin’s The Sessions as merely a hurdle to get over this upcoming awards season. Yes, it’s about a man with a disability and, yes, it co-stars Helen Hunt, but the mere fact that it got made at all makes it an important film whether you consider it good or not. Given Hollywood’s fussy attitude towards sex (particularly the sex that makes us feel good), it’s strange to see so much talk about The Sessions (nee Six Sessions, nee The Surrogate) in regards to the Academy Awards. That the film is about sex and disabilities and religion, and examines it with maturity and gentle pathos, just makes Lewin’s film that much more of an anomaly worth exploring.

John Hawkes (Winter’s Bone, Martha Marcy May Marlene) stars as Mark O’Brien, a real life figure who lived with Polio into his 40s who has already been the subject of one Oscar-winning movie already. If the rest of the plot – O’Brien hires a “sex surrogate” to lose his virginity – elicits giggles from the viewer then that’s a-okay since the film and the man have a sense of humour. Yes, you know where it’s going, but it's so refreshing to see this topic played out openly that it’s almost hard to care.

The Sessions, for me, most resembled Lisa Cholodenko’s The Kids are All Right. [more after the jump]

Click to read more ...

Friday
Aug032012

MIFF 1: Battle of the Aussie Pop Stars

[Editor's Note: Glenn of Stale Popcorn fame, pictured left, will be covering the Melbourne International Film Festival for us. Yay!  He'll hit titles we're interested in because we've definitely perused his plans. -Nathaniel]

Glenn checking in. As I type this it is August 2nd, opening night of the 61st annual Melbourne International Film Festival. With the festival proper beginning tomorrow, I have 32 films booked (whether I get to them all is another thing altogether...) but I've caught a few biggies beforehand.

You have probably heard about Wayne Blair’s The Sapphires, what with its rapid ascent from unknown Aussie musical to full blown Harvey Weinstein pet project. While I can’t see this chintzy sixties-set musical garnering much in the way of Academy buzz – unless the music branch’s “no end credits original songs!” attitude suddenly changes for the swingin’ original tune “Gotcha” – I can’t see how its light-as-air sensibilities can’t turn it into a pretty money-maker for The Weinstein Company and net itself a couple of those eternally in flux “Musical or Comedy” Golden Globe nominations in the process. 

Musical Madness, Kylie Minogue and Holy Motors after the jump...

The Sapphires

 

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