Tag: Sydney Film Festival 2016

Full coverage of the 63rd Sydney Film Festival.

  • SFF 2016 Review: Alice in Earnestland

    SFF 2016 Review: Alice in Earnestland

    Alice in Earnestland poster (성실한 나라의 앨리스)An inky black comedy take on the South Korean revenge genre, as one woman goes down the metaphorical rabbit hole.

    South Korea has a particular penchant for revenge films, most notably through Park Chan-wook’s stylish and violent “Vengeance Trilogy” and Bong Joon-ho Mother, and Ahn Gooc-jin’s debut feature film aims to be a comedic skewering of those conventions. There’s a touch of Misery as Soo-Nam (Lee Jung-Hyun) ties up a therapist (Seo Young-hwa), kicking off a tangible thread of of the dark comedy/sinister mix that permeates the first half of the film. As Soo-Nam recounts the descent of her fortunes, never getting a break from her first choice in high school, through to meeting her future husband Kyu-Jung (Lee Hae-young), him suffering multiple accidents and winding up in a coma. Working tirelessly to afford the house Kyu-Jung insisted on buying, ALICE IN EARNESTLAND can be oppressive in the sheer amount of trouble the film puts its lead through. It’s mean-spirited and over-the-top too, as the second half abandons the fast-cutting, cartoonish stylings of the first act, giving way to bloody moments of torture and relentlessly beating down Soo-Nam, quite literally in the case of protester ‘Sergeant Major’ Choi (Myung Gye-Nam). Yet the virtual and individual obstacles in Soo-Nam’s path add to the satisfaction of the revenge fantasy, even if the film never completely finds the balance between black comedy and the typical tropes of the medium.

    2015 | South Korea | DIR: Ahn Gooc-jin | WRITERS: Ahn Gooc-jin | CAST: Lee Jeong-hyun, Lee Hae-young, Seo Young-hwa | DISTRIBUTOR: Sydney Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 90 minutes | RATING: ★★★¾ (7.5/10)

  • Review: Lovesong

    Review: Lovesong

    Lovesong posterA bittersweet love story that defies convention, focusing on the intimate moments between two strong female leads.

    Rarely does a film so effortlessly break your heart and lift your soul as LOVESONG does.

    It’s been four years since So Yong Kim’s For Ellen, a film that underlined the filmmaker’s command of emotional character-based stories. With her follow-up, Kim delicately explores the intimacies of a relationship that is not defined by traditional standards.

    Sarah (Riley Keough) is a young mother neglected by her husband, and so heads out on a roadtrip with her daughter and free-spirited college friend Mindy (Jena Malone). However, the long unspoken connection between Mindy and Sarah comes out during a drunken night, but they are led to part ways shortly afterwards. Three years later, Sarah tries to reconnect with Mindy at the latter’s wedding, or see if circumstances are still not right for them.

    From the close-up shots of wildlife and distinctive use of music, both Jóhann Jóhannsson’s score and songs featuring Malone herself, So Yong Kim is consciously taking an approach of understated naturalism to convey her tale. The time shift in the middle makes it clear that the friends have not communicated much in the interim period, but we are also forced to wonder how much of what we are seeing on screen is the whole story. Indeed, there’s a scene towards the end of the film where a conversation is played out in voiceover, and we only catch the end of the moment on camera. 

    What gets conveyed is a heartbreaking series of missed connections, a romance that never needs to touch on the gender of the leads, because it is about a more transcendent experience than heteronormative definitions would imply. It is clear to the audience that this is a relationship that could have been, whether it is easiness that Mindy has with Sarah’s daughter or the unspoken awareness that Mindy’s mother (Rosanna Arquette) has. However, the film is brave enough to say that sometimes things just don’t work out because people don’t try for them hard enough, instantly distinguishing LOVESONG from its contemporaries.

    Lovesong - Riley Keough

    There is a tonal shift between the two pieces of the film, the result of different production crews and cinematographers being used for each half. Yet it’s the performances of the two leads that is So Yong Kim’s focus, a duo that serves as a set of counterbalances. The perpetually melancholy performance of Keough holds the film together, avoiding being a doormat for love by being easily the equal of seasoned indie performer Malone.

    The latter is a scattered character, her outward buoyancy betrayed by the fact that she is buying a wedding dress only days before the ceremony. Her running away from the relationship is as equally responsible for the missed opportunities as Sarah’s hesitations, and the pair form an interesting counterbalance, each standing to benefit from the best the other has to offer. Jessie and Sky Gray, sisters who each play Sarah’s daughter a few years apart, are not to be overlooked either, as both young actresses give us important information about Sarah’s identity outside of the closed world of her relationship with Mindy.

    LOVESONG is a mere 85 minutes long, but So Yong Kim takes a measured approach to pacing, treasuring every moment we get to spend with these characters. Indeed, the entire film is a microcosm of Sarah and Mindy’s relationship, being an all-too brief series of tender moments that aren’t destined to last. It does, after all, share a title with a Cure record. It doesn’t always provide us with the happy endings that are expected of such narratives, but nevertheless serve as a testament to the notion of enduring love.

    2016 | US | DIR: So Yong Kim | WRITERS: So Yong Kim, Bradley Rust Gray | CAST: Jena Malone, Riley Keough, Brooklyn Decker, Rosanna Arquette | DISTRIBUTOR: Vendetta Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 84 minutes | RATING:★★★★★ (10/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: What’s In the Darkness

    SFF 2016 Review: What’s In the Darkness

    What's In the Darkness poster (China)A coming-of-age story set against the backdrop of a murder mystery is both intimate and chilling.

    Writer-director Wang Yichun’s debut feature mirrors memories of her own childhood, as she recalls the murder of a girl her own age in the Hebei province in the early 1990s. Following the discovery of a body by the lake, Jing (Su Xiaotong) herself is drawn into her detective father Qu Zhicheng’s (Guo Xiao) investigations. The moment is a lightning rod of awakening for Jing, signalling her transition out of childhood as she experiences both a sexual and emotional metamorphosis.

    The film is ostensibly a police procedural, but written by Wang in her early 20s, it is most about looking back at a specific period in time with the immediacy of youth. Indeed, much of the film’s focus becomes less about the murders and more about Jing’s growing awareness of her own body and sexuality. This in itself is commentary on the sexually repressed nature of the country, one with a firmly established patriarchy, with Qu’s constant reminds to Jing that he would have preferred a boy and his antiquated insistence that Jing can’t have a male friend. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, Jing both follows and fears her consciously sexual friend Zhang Xue (Lu Qiwei), held back a few years at school, from comparatively innocent activities like buying a bra to watching porn through tears in a darkened theatre.

    Nevertheless, the procedural elements still form a backbone running through the film, with a pall of menace perpetually hanging over the film. There’s unexpected humour too, of course, with Qu’s early forensic methods mocked and clumsy attempts are courting just as sweet as they are charming. Yet the final message seems to be one of Jing’s realisation of a woman’s powerlessness in her province. It is, after all, coupled with a foreboding that comes with her early association between sex and death. With WHAT’S IN THE DARKNESS, Wang Yichun is not simply suggesting her own coming of age, but that of an entire country as well.

    2015 | China | DIR: Wang Yichun | WRITER: Wang Yichun | CAST: Su Xiaotong, Guo Xiao, Liu Dan, Lu Qiwei | DISTRIBUTOR: Sydney Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 98 minutes | RATING:★★★★ (8/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: Life After Life

    SFF 2016 Review: Life After Life

    This winner of the Hong Kong International Film Festival Firebird Award misses the tonal mark in an unconventional ghost story.

    Everything is dead or dying in the industrial villages of young Leilei’s (Zhang Li) rural town, one of many such places across China that lay abandoned to memory and ghosts. Leilei is possessed by the spirit of his deceased mother, and matter of factly tells his father Mingchun (Zhang Mingjun) that she has returned to transplant a tree that she planted when she was younger. While much has been made of the wry humour and social commentary of LIFE AFTER LIFE, the film’s absurdism is so dry and detached as to miss the mark on more than one occasion. There’s a fatalism that hangs drearily over the film, including a disturbing sequence of prolonged animal slaughter, and those occasional moments of humour only serve to remind the audience how oppressive the decay of the rest of the narrative is. Where the film is most fascinating is around the attitudes towards reincarnation, including an hilarious journey of the father/husband and son/wife to find the returned spirit of their family’s grandfather, who has apparently returned as a dog. On a more philosophical level, the phrase “This life of yours completes mine” lingers long after the film. Yet the most apt metaphor for the film could be the vision of the duo trying to load the uprooted tree onto the back of their truck. Copying a method they’ve seen of a group aimlessly moving a rock, they slowly twist and turn the tree up a plank, but just as they are about to reach the top, the tree falls off and forces them to start again. It might be speaking to the cycle of death and rebirth, but it’s a perfect way of describing the viewing experience of LIFE AFTER LIFE.

    2016 | China | DIR: Zhang Hanyi | WRITER: Zhang Hanyi | CAST: Zhang Li, Zhang Mingjun, Wang Jishan | DISTRIBUTOR: Sydney Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 80 minutes | RATING:★★½ (5/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: Chevalier

    SFF 2016 Review: Chevalier

    Chevalier posterA fun bit of absurdism from the director of Attenburg, one that waves a pointy finger at male pissing contests.

    Athina Rachel Tsangari has been at the forefront of the ‘Greek Weird Wave’, an unsurprising phrase for fans of her previous film Attenburg or Alps, which she produced for Yorgos Lanthimo. In the incredibly simple yet layered premise, a group of six men on a fishing trip compete to see who is ‘the best’ at everything, based on a series of arbitrary tests that cover everything from singing to literally measuring penises. As the contest intensifies, so does the oneupmanship, causing a mix of cabin madness and competitiveness.

    Tsangari uses her typically absurdist eye to skewer notions of masculinity and power plays, this collective of six Greek men handily representing a range of male personality types from the alpha dogs to more nerdish leanings. The competition seems normal at first, but the absurd elements grow so steadily that ridiculous rapidly becomes the new normal on the boat. There is an odd kind of tension that lingers throughout, whether it is from the disembodied voice of the ship making rational announcements or the violence that is threatened (and occasionally delivered) at every turn. Yet the challenges themselves allow Tsangari to push the limits of male farce, from the building of an IKEA bookcase to comparing the length of erect phalluses after reading each other erotic stories. The most telling moments come in private, as one member gives himself a self-motivational speech about his attractiveness in a mirror, while another tries to wake everybody up to show them the magnificence of his latest erection. The urgency of his boast, and the lack of response that he receives, is both hilarious and pathetic. Which is kind of Tsangari’s point, but delivered in a completely deadpan fashion.

    Given the luxury yacht location, and the social status of most of the people on the ship, there’s a vague sense of commentary about class warfare in Greece as well, especially as the ship’s crew have to blindly go along with the games. However, by the end it’s clear that it’s not necessarily an exclusive trait of the elite, as the game is over but the cycle continues.

    2015 | Greece | DIR: Athina Rachel Tsangari | WRITERS: Efthimis Filippou, Athina Rachel Tsangari | CAST: Yorgos Kendros, Panos Koronis, Vangelis Mourikis | DISTRIBUTOR: Vendetta Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 99 minutes | RATING:★★★¾ (7.5/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: It’s Only the End of the World

    SFF 2016 Review: It’s Only the End of the World

    Photo : Shayne Laverdière, Sons of Manual

    It’s Only The End Of The World (Juste la fin du monde)Despite those infamous Cannes reactions, this slow burn film puts the close-up on subtle character moments.

    It is easy to see why IT’S ONLY THE END OF THE WORLD (Juste la fin du monde) has been so divisive, just as it is almost impossible to watch Xavier Dolan’s film in a festival setting without acknowledging the media frenzy around the film’s 2016 Cannes screening. The 2016 winner of the Grand Prix and the Ecumenical Jury Prize is an intense cinema experience, asking audiences to stare raw emotion quite directly in the face through a series of continuous tight shots and heightened music cues.

    Set “somewhere a while ago,” writer Louis (Gaspard Ulliel ) returns home after 12 years to announce his impending death to his family. As the audience waits for Louis to reveal his news, the film remains firmly locked inside a measured tension bubble from this point forward. Each of the family members either stumbles over themselves to say the right thing around Louis, correcting their sentences mid-stream or in the case of brother Antoine (Vincent Cassel), bullheadedly ploughing through with his opinions regardless. His mother Martine (Nathalie Baye), the latest in a long line of Dolan’s crazy on-screen mothers, perhaps puts it best when she comments that they are all “afraid of time, the time you give us.” As each family member pulls him aside, including a younger sister (Léa Seydoux) that only remembers him fondly through the stories of others, none of them have trouble making their own confessions to him, even as Louis struggles to make his own. Complete stranger Catherine (Marion Cotillard), Antoine’s browbeaten wife, is the only one that seems to understand what Louis wants to say by his (in)actions.

    Dolan doesn’t make it easy for us to get close to his characters, with Mommy cinematographer André Turpin using close-ups almost exclusively to focus on the monologues. Gabriel Yared’s score swells overwhelmingly at times, except during the often incongruous series of pop songs used during flashbacks. Yet these are all simply tools to keep us at arm’s length, and if you don’t feel a connection to any of the characters, then this is probably deliberate. Dolan ensures that we feel the same disconnect from these people that Louis feels for a family that, for him at least, is effectively a collection of fragmented memories. If a final confession is on the tip of Louis’ tongue for the duration, we share the anxiety around this, and Dolan never lets us off the hook for a second.

    2016 | France, Canada | DIR: Xavier Dolan | WRITERS: Xavier Dolan | CAST: Gaspard Ulliel, Vincent Cassel, Marion Cotillard, Nathalie Baye, Léa Seydoux | DISTRIBUTOR: Transmission Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 95 minutes | RATING:★★★★ (8/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: Kiki

    SFF 2016 Review: Kiki

    Kiki posterA modern look at the ballroom scene first chronicled by Paris Is Burning, yet the times and styles have definitely changed.

    From the slick montage opening of KIKI, it’s evident that Swedish filmmaker Sara Jordenö is determined to make a point of difference to Jennie Livingston’s 1990 documentary, Paris Is Burning. Yet it’s a comparison that Jordenö invites in the early moments of its various vignettes, describing the history of New York’s ballroom scene through footage from the classic doco. The modern Kiki scene is a subset of that original ballroom, yet we can see how it has evolved over time as well. Prizes for the ‘realness’ categories are cash prizes, with corresponding trophies, instead of the function just being the primary outlet for the socially disenfranchised.

    Where Paris Is Burning was a bubble around a moment in time, KIKI is more of a study of a handful of characters who live in New York. Jumping around from interview to interview, the viewer neither gets a sense of what the current culture is all about, nor is there line-through for any of the people featured. The one exception is a transgender subject Gia Marie Love, who we get to see before and after transition. More stories like this would have made this a strong parallel to the 1980s examination, where coming out as trans was much harder in New York City.  Another focal point is youth activist (and credited co-writer) Twiggy who says, “There is so much left to fight for”. He’s absolutely right, although KIKI barely scrapes the surface of what they are fighting for, letting us know he goes to Washington as a representative, but never following through. Similarly, another subject goes overseas to compete for the first time, but there is no context or resolution to that thread. KIKI is a snapshot in time, but fails to achieve the legendary status of legacy it follows.

    2016 | US | DIR: Jennie Livingston | WRITERS: Sara Jordenö, Twiggy Pucci Garçon | DISTRIBUTOR: Sydney Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 94 minutes | Rating: ★★★ (6/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: Aquarius

    SFF 2016 Review: Aquarius

    Aquarius (2016) posterA quiet character-based exploration of changes in a beachside area of Brazil.

    Coming straight from competing for the Palme d’Or at Cannes, Kleber Mendonça Filho’s follow-up film to the highly acclaimed Neighbouring Sounds comes with corresponding hype and pressure. AQUARIUS is the antithesis of a “big” film, instead focusing on ageing music critic Dona Clara (Sonia Braga), the last holdout in a Brazilian beachside apartment block slated for development. Despite every other flat in her block vacated for the developers, Clara refuses to leave, despite the wishes and concerns of her family and those who stand to benefit from the sales.

    There’s early promising scenes set in the late 1970s, kicking off the film’s musical obsession with Queen. The film is about the end of an era, establishing Clara’s rebellious fire early by showing her admiration of a beloved bohemian aunt. Filho juxtaposes an increasingly out of place Clara with the changes in the area, making a very definite statement about what he feels is being lost as a divided Brazil continues to lose aspects of its cultural history. Yet much of the film also drifts aimlessly in and out of various elements of family and sex after seventy, a showcase for the strong performance of a nuanced Braga. Her friendship with lifeguard Roberval (Irandhir Santos) is one of the understated highlights of the film. It’s just a shame that there is so little subtlety to the rest of the screenplay, one where the developers throw orgies, burn mattresses, file legal threats, and in a final “twist” pollute the building to drive out the “little guy.”

    2016 | Brazil, France | DIR: Kleber Mendonça Filho | WRITERS: Kleber Mendonça Filho | CAST: Sonia Braga, Maeve Jinkings, Irandhir Santos | DISTRIBUTOR: Rialto Distribution (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 144 minutes | RATING: ★★★ (6/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: The Lure

    SFF 2016 Review: The Lure

    The Lure posterThe box says “vampire mermaid musical,” and that’s precisely what you get with this ’80s Polish throwback.

    Before Disney made her part of our world, Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid was filled with some dark turns where the titular character’s very soul was at stake. Poland’s THE LURE draws on the basic elements of this original tale, then takes its own weird journey through a sexy and violent landscape, one that is sharply reminiscent of the outlandish VHS favourites that populated the video stores of the 1980s. Not for nothing, as director Agnieszka Smoczyńska’s bizarre new musical is not only set in that era, but also borrows many of the conventions of the decade.

    Two siren mermaids, Silver (Marta Mazurek) and Gold (Michalina Olszanska), emerge off the coast of Warsaw, and are lured into civilisation by the bass playing of a local nightclub band, kind of a washed up strip club version of Blondie. Silver begins to fall for a human, while Gold’s vampiric bloodlust can no longer be held in check. THE LURE is a bit of a conundrum. It’s gorgeously shot by photographer Kuba Kijowski, including a cavernous pool from another period entirely. Yet it contains clashing elements such as a big dance sequence in a department store, and then later the body horror of a human-mermaid organ transplant. The convoluted mash of motifs might just be a boob delivery system, with the back half of the film making no literal sense or following a traditional structure. Gold joins a punk rock band with the surface dwelling Tryton (Marcin Kowalczyk), and there’s a convoluted plot around various affairs happening within the band. Yet there’s an intangible quality that is sure to make this a cult hit, with a romantic element thrown in that brings it full-circle back to Hans Christian Andersen. One thing is for sure: there is nothing else on this planet quite like THE LURE.

    2015 | Poland | DIR: Agnieszka Smoczynska | WRITERS: Robert Bolesto | CAST: Marta Mazurek, Michalina Olszanska, Jakub Gierszal | DISTRIBUTOR: Sydney Film Festival (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 92 minutes | RATING: ★★★ (6/10)

  • SFF 2016 Review: High-Rise

    SFF 2016 Review: High-Rise

    High-Rise posterTransplanting J.G. Ballard’s 1970s treatise on modernism, Ben Wheatley’s adaptation is as beautiful as it is terrifying.

    “For all its inconveniences, Laing was satisfied with life in the high-rise.” So begins Ben Wheatley’s visually penetrating adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s 1975 novel, with a head inside a television set and Dr. Robert Laing (Tom Hiddleston) spit-roasting a German Shepherd. Using the oppressive Mid-Century brutualist architecture of the titular towers, and a thoroughly 1970s setting and aesthetic, Laing moves into a massive 40-story building designed by Anthony Royal (Jeremy Irons). Supposedly an ideal space, with everything from a supermarket to a primary school in the megastructure, residents begin to lose interest in the outside world, until the system begins to fail and the delicate class divisions come tumbling down into anarchic violence.

    Like Snowpiercer, or the 1987 Doctor Who episode Paradise Towers (also loosely based on Ballard’s novel), it’s an allegorical tale of how the physical environment of modernity can impact on the psyche of the populace. “It takes a certain determination to row against the tide,” a waiter reminds Laing as he traverses the class divides, literally separated by floors in the case of HIGH-RISE. Hiddleston comes into the film as a detached creature already, his stiff upper-lip Britishness contrasting with his bemused observations of the rich. His descent into madness is so subtle that it seems perfectly natural, as though there is no other rational response than to go mad. Yet all the cast are top-notch in this, especially the chief “lower level” agitant Richard Wilder (Luke Evans), who gives a primal turn as he embraces the most basic instincts of survival. Sienna Miller feels like something more calculated in the way she plays off the two camps with her own secrets. It’s still the omnipresent hum of the tower, eerily brought to life by Clint Mansell’s score and a disturbing Portishead cover of ABBA’s “SOS,” that figuratively and literally dominates the landscape against the unnaturally orange sky. Unsurprisingly, it’s Margaret Thatcher’s voice that echoes over the final moments, affirming that capitalism is the only economic system in the world, while Laing waits for the tower’s twin to suffer the fate of his. As global politics increasingly divide rich and poor, and these structures are now commonplace, Ballard’s tale has even more weight than it did forty years ago.

    2015 | UK | DIR: Ben Wheatley | WRITER: Amy Jump | CAST: Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Irons, Sienna Miller, Luke Evans, Elisabeth Moss | DISTRIBUTOR: Transmission Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 118 minutes | RATING:★★★★ (8/10)