Jia Zhangke, A Touch of Sin, and the Use of Animals to Represent Corruption.

Jia Zhangke’s newest feature, A Touch of Sin, is a giant departure from his more neo-realist inspired films. A Touch of Sin has been compared to the work of Quentin Tarantino and Johnnie To, often using violence for symbolic meaning. However violence towards animals specifically is a reoccurring motif, bypassing that would be ignoring an important message in Zhangke’s feature.

Zhangke uses violence throughout towards animals and humans interchangeably. Violence against both is used by those who have lost hope within China’s new found wealth, and is seen as their only means to regain any sort of control. We are repeatedly shown that when people have been reduced to their weakest point, lashing out seems the only logical response. This is most clearly portrayed in the opening section of A Touch of Sin.  Dahai (Wu Jiang)is a man who has lost faith with trying to do things fairly, and instead lashes out in a rage of gunfire. Dahai however, doesn’t just shoot those who have become corrupt and have taken advantage of the locals, he also kills an average man who we are shown has relentlessly been whipping his horse. We can assume this man is whipping the horse due to this his frustration at, perhaps, his only source of income, one that has become tired, and old. He knows that if the horse gives up, he is left hopeless in a country that has developed too rapidly for him and is quickly leaving him behind. The man has been left with nothing but this last resort, to let out his frustrations with violence, even though he is surely aware this will only exacerbate the problem. He has become part of the cycle of corruption and violence through no fault of his own, with Zhangke suggesting that corruption and violence are two of the same thing. As Dahai is attempting to rid the whole area of this corruption/violence, and placing the innocent first, this man becomes a victim of Dahai’s rage.  Dahai is aware of the corruption that happens around, and with being aware of this, as well at the fact that he has lost faith in the government, accepts the fact that he must resort to killing. Dahai however ensures that he will instead use this in order to defend the innocent, both human and animal. With Dahai killing this man, a person who could be seen as a symbolic representation of a man attempting to reassert dominance over an ‘inferior’ creature, Dahai takes upon a duel role, where he becomes the symbolic revenge of those who have fallen victim of an abusive, corrupt government for both humans and animals. Dahai (a character that could be seen as Zhengke’s release of his own frustrations with the government) sees the abuse of power not only in those who take advantage of humans, but also those who take advantage of animals. By wrapping his gun with the image of a tiger, he has symbolically become a defender of both the down-trodden human and animal, and given power back to both. Both gun and tiger are, after all, seen as the most powerful weapon for mankind, and most powerful creature in the animal kingdom.

The image of whipping is repeated later on in the film, where Xiao Yu (Zhao Tao) is beaten in the same manner, this time however with wads of cash. This far more explicate use of symbolism shows Zhangke’s belief that money has become the dominate force in modern China, and this has lead to the abuse of power. By repeating the image of the beating of the horse, this time on Xiao Yu, Zhangke lays the abusive nature of the Communist Party as not being mutually exclusive to just humans or animals. Zhangke see’s the rise of importance of money, and the governments shift towards capitalism as being the key reason why rural China has seen itself left behind the urban, increasingly cosmopolitan sprawls that the cities have become. Money, for Zhangke, has become a weapon as powerful as the gun, or the tiger.

Corruption has become intertwined with violence for Zhangke, and A Touch of Sin shows how quickly this has gone out of control. By using the basis of real stories found on Weibo, Zhangke stitched together stories the breadth of the country in order to reinforce this belief, and to demonstrate the far-reaching impacts that the dramatic reforms made by the Chinese government have had on the average citizen, and to attempt to demonstrate why a rise in extremely violent crime has recently become an important talking point in Chinese social media.

Cannes 2014 Predictions...How they came in.

Just after the announcement of the selection of films for the 2014 Cannes Film Festival, I took a quick, rough set of predictions about the outcome of the results and general reaction to a handful of films which can be viewed HERE. This wasn't to suggest insider knowledge, but rather to at the rather self-fulfilling prophecy that Cannes often creates, and its rare willingness to take risks in film selection. This was also to look at the idea that critics, as a group, are often a fairly predictable group, with notions of what will be good, rather than being willing to stand aside from the crowd.

Winter Sleep:  My prediction with the Ceylan film was pretty spot on. Winter Sleep received a slightly more lukewarm reception by critics, many complaining it dragged. It did however, as expected, win the Palme D'or, in a gesture that can be seen as more a reward for his whole filmography

Mr Turner and Jimmy's Hall: I was incorrect with a prediction that Jimmy's Hall would win some sort of token award, with an award instead going to Leigh's Mr Turner. However, as predicted both were especially well received in Great Britain, arguable more so than any other place.

Goodbye to Language: Slightly more off with this, apart from (and extremely predictably) that it would split audiences. I didn't expect it to win anything, but did share the Jury Prize.

Maps to the Stars; Two Days, One Night and Foxcatcher: Mixed bag with this prediction, after stating they were unlikely to win anything. Two Days, One Night came away with nothing, despite incredibly strong reviews from critics. As expected, critics were perhaps weary of rewarding the Dardennes too much. Maps to the Stars won best actress, however was not viewed as a contender for anything else. Miller winning best director for Foxcatcher seemed to have been perhaps the biggest surprise. Received near total praise, especially in terms of acting, completely unexpected on my part.

Mommy: Dolan seemed to have surprised everyone with the, again, near total praise received for Mommy. Dolan has seemingly continued to take risks with his development, and a shared Jury Prize with Godard is a massive gesture of support from Cannes. Will surely become a permanent fixture at Cannes, and win the Palme D'or within his next few features to reaffirm Cannes as 'developing' talent.

Timbuktu: Sadly, one I was spot-on with. Won nothing despite incredibly strong reviews in general, with some saying it was their choice to win the main competition. Again, apparently just being in competition is enough for African cinema.

The Search: Was torn apart by the majority of critics in the inevitable post-The Artist backlash. Never stood a chance!

Not a perfect set, but still more hit than miss. Who know's if this says anything about anything, except that I am OK at predicting stuff!

• Palme d'Or – Winter Sleep by Nuri Bilge Ceylan
• Grand Prix – The Wonders by Alice Rohrwacher
• Best Director – Bennett Miller for Foxcatcher
• Best Screenplay – Andrey Zvyagintsev and Oleg Negin for Leviathan
• Best Actress – Julianne Moore for Maps to the Stars
• Best Actor – Timothy Spall for Mr. Turner
• Jury Prize – Mommy by Xavier Dolan and Goodbye to Language by Jean-Luc Godard

Gregg Golding - What's The Point of Cinema?

GREGG GOLDING - 

"Cinema is from the French word cinématographe which comes in part from the greek kinema, meaning movement. So cinema is really just another word meaning moving picture. I will refer to cinema as a feature film. Not necessarily the theatrical experience, moreso the time based format and single unit nature of a feature film. Ironically, our cultural fugue state of information overload seems to favor "long form content" these past couple years...Even though that further limits ones choices in the infinite sea of knowledge. Kind of an opiate of the people if you ask me. Yes, this long form has improved, allowing more singular auteur & subversive voices in, but cinema started that, and if you look below the top 20 grossing films, cinema does it more than any visual time based format. What I'm really writing about is film vs TV, video games and other media that the popular culture feels is "winning" in cinema's place. I think that's inherently alarmist and short sighted.

In this age of multimedia excess an serialized addiction, binge watching, video game worship and youtube shorts, cinemas power lies largely in how static, brick like, and finite it is. It remains a clear formal statement, that if undiluted is amazingly transformative. You could say the form, although arbitrary an created by 1900s theatre programmers for practical reasons, is imbued with a mystical grace.

A feature film frantically emerges from a cocoon an flails wildly. Maybe laying an egg for a sequel before it's death (an hopefully preservation in the cultural amber). It is the corporately born mold that Studios and independents alike pour their lives into. Much like the novel, cinema has a great an storied history as an aspirational form for a creative. Cinema is a history of bold statements. Though of course, in the shadows, we're all writing TV show bibles for $$£ + guaranteed audience conversation. To me, the form of the feature has a resonance all it's own. cinema is rich, global, eternal, all knowing an already contains all the secrets to the universe in aggregate. A claim that I would only also make to fine art, poetry, literature, music and theatre/ live performance (+the net/mystical practice) Cinema isn't dead. No long form cable show has schooled Godard for me. Cinema is a chance for endless freakshow devices and singular style. Instead of binge watching 2 seasons of "walking dead" because you "can't decide" try watching 15 films from different times and movements that will change the way you think. Study up future artists, there is much work to do."



Filmography -
Struggled Reagans (2014)
Illuminati Puppet (2014)

Struggled Reagans recently premiered in at the SciFi London Film Festival. Struggled Reagans is Golding's Trash Humpers, in tune with the 'frantic overload of the human mind in the information age'. Simultaneously full of references, and unreferenceable, full of colours, sounds, and off-kilter moments that constantly challenge its audience in both high and low brow terms. Golding uses his characters to discuss ideas of globalization and brainwashing, while constantly remaining playful. Any child of the 90s will recognize role-playing fight-scenes that looked exactly like those in Struggled Reagans while in their school playground.

Illuminati Puppet is approaching completion. The completed Kickstarter page can be viewed HERE

Cannes 2014 - What will happen, and what to look for.

Cannes is rarely unpredictable on the surface, certain names regularly crop up in main competition. I will make a few predictions on the likely receptions the films in the main competition will receive, followed by some films that I am excited about, or shake up Cannes to an extent.

After the announcement of the main competitions at Cannes, the British media focused on the obvious, Leigh and Loach. Sadly, these two represent the past of British cinema, and perhaps we should be looking at why there is a lack of young British talent at Cannes this year. These two will be solidly received at Cannes, but have little impact on any awards. Loach may however receive some token gesture if this is to be his last feature. Goodbye to Language, the latest by Jean-Luc Godard, shot in 3D also inevitably received a lot of attention, however will just as inevitably split audiences and not win much. Other big names, Cronenberg, the Dardenne's and Miller are all likely to be well received, but unlikely to win the main prize (in the Dardenne case, largely because of fear of criticism they can 'do no wrong' in Cannes eyes). Hazanavicius, director of The Artist, is likely to face heavy backlash with The Search that always meets directors after Oscar success. I will revisit these after the awards have been handed out, just to see how predictable these all are...

Now, to the ones that have something exciting about them:

Palme d'Or

Winter Sleep - Nuri Bilge Ceylan

Perhaps the most likely winner of the Palme d'Or, Ceylan has been one of the most exciting directors that Cannes seemed to have plucked from nowhere for a long time. Ceylan has won awards at Cannes regularly, including with his last feature, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, and as long as it isn't below par (Three Monkeys being the only slightly poor feature out his current six features), Cannes look likely to reward him for his whole filmography. Will receive criticism in some parts who complain it is too slow and long, coming in at 196 minutes.

Mommy - Xavier Dolan

Dolan is easy to hate, but his rate of high-quality features is impossible to ignore. Five features at the age of 25 is incredible, and Mommy has made a leap up into main competition. Tom at the Farm is the only feature of his I am yet to see, however many commentators have stated of the maturity of this work, and the Cannes selection panel seem to agree with this if it has continued into his newest feature. Dolan will face criticism of shallowness, however the talent and consistent quality cannot be ignored. Dolan will be around for a long time, and make genuine works of important cinema. Is unlikely to receive any award, as I am sure Cannes sees the fact that he is even in the main competition as reward enough. Will have to wait a few more features into his career before he has 'earned' the right.

Timbuktu - Abderrahmane Sissako

The token African film that is starting to become a regular feature in main competition, and will receive absolutely nothing in terms of awards, and more than likely receive little attention in the press. However, although even if it is a token gesture, Cannes need to be congratulated for forcing this into the mainstream. Sissako does have a track record in film festivals, as well as links with France, which helps ease him into acceptance with Cannes. Sadly though, this will be the most ignored film in the main competition.

Un Certain Regard

Lost River - Ryan Gosling

Sadly changed its name from How to Catch a Monster. Has an extremely interesting premise. I would normally be weary of big name Hollywood actors being entered into Un Certain Regard, believing it is likely purely for the chance of another star name at Cannes, while also being able to hide the film if it is poor, however Gosling has a good track record with directors he has worked with, and hopefully some of it will rub off.

Snow in Paradise - Andrew Hulme

The one British director to come out of nowhere really into Cannes, it is fair to say there really is no idea of how this will turn out. Hulme has worked as an editor on a fair number of big films in the past, including the well received films of Anton Corbijn. The slow, steady pace of Corbijn is likely to follow through with Hulme's work.

Fantasia - Wang Chao

Has previously won Un Certain Regard, and is likely to be among the favourites again. Sadly Chinese cinema is under-represented this year. Hopefully however, this will make a strong impression on the jury.

Others

The Rover - David Michod

Suprising that The Rover was not up for the Palme d'Or, however still extremely likely that recieve positive reviews. Interesting to see what step Michod makes after the universal acclaim for his debut, Animal Kingdom.

Whiplash - Damien Chazelle

The fact that the winner of Sundance, Whiplash, is so far down the pecking order at Cannes this year, shows just how poor the festival was this year. However, Chazelle making it into the Directors Fortnight is still a great step for perhaps the least likely Mumblecore film-maker to make it big. The fun and playful  Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench seemed like a one off that would sink into obscurity, however Chazelle has seemingly made a niche for himself.

Catch Me Daddy - Daniel Wolfe

Very little is known about this feature, however the work of his previous shorts suggests that Wolfe may become a big name in cinema in the future.

Tie Xi Qu: West of the Tracks – Revisited

In 2003, Wang Bing released the tremendously in-depth, 9 hour documentary, Tie Xi Qu: West of the Tracks. Bing selects a small corner of an average Chinese city, Shenyang, to capture a distinctive period of Chinese history, as it pulls away from traditional Maoist communism, and enters into its Chinese interpretation of capitalism. We see factories become empty, workers not being paid for months on end and lots of standing around. Bing opens doors into groups of people who are never even acknowledged, let alone given a voice. In return, they allow him into their homes, work places, and extremely personal conversations. We see young man crying hysterically because he has missed his Father so much, workers taken to ‘hospitals’ on the outskirts to try and remove some of their high levels of lead poising that they have received at their work place and people forcibly driven out of their homes. Bing does this all with a simple, small digital camera, and captures the most beautiful and startling images. We are regularly placed at the front of trains or work equipment, and are swung around the tracks or factories. These factories are nearly always empty, and the train tracks are nearly always covered in old dirty metals and snow. The workers, Shenyang, and China all find themselves in a strange purgatory where life is day-by-day, everything looks stale and the same, and distinctively grey.

Shenyang, however, has an extremely personally connection to me. In 2012, 10 years after the filming of Tie Xi Qu: West of the Tracks, I spent 6 months living in China, 5 of which were in Shenyang as an English teacher. I went to Shenyang completely blind. I knew nothing of the city, and nothing of its history, except that it was extremely cold in the winter, and had a small population for a city in China (only eight million), and the Japanese invasion during World War 2. Upon arrival the city, I was welcomed with a mixture of huge sky-rise buildings, empty six lane roads, and bustling, dirty markets all covered in snow. Like most things in China, things have both changed rapidly, as well as remaining strangely the same, meaning contradictions and huge contrasts are a common occurrence. Modernisation was a key feature in Shenyang, however this meant a lot of the stuff we saw were in a constant state of half-built building sites, often just left in the same way for weeks. This modernisation was focused on the centre of the city, with shopping malls and supermarkets being frequently dotted around, however these places were never too far from someone trying to sell baskets of junk.

The longer we stayed in Shenyang, the more the gulf between the growth of the country, and its people, seemed further apart. In Tie Xi Qu, we see a whole village being kicked out of their homes in the pursuit for modernisation, with little government regard for the people there. Many people seem to just accept this, which can seem startling to the viewer, but perhaps shouldn’t be. It was extremely hard to get close to people while living there, mainly due to lack of language skills, but often when conversation did start, in a mix of broken English and Mandarin, the idea of acceptance became clear. Whatever the government wants to happen, will happen, and we just have to work around it. For every big, new building in the centre of Shenyang, around the corner there is a street full of dirty children playing in piles of dirt that reach as up as tall as they are. In the pursuit for modernisation, as we see in Tie Xi Qu, and still see in modern Shenyang, the people are pushed into the background and left behind the façade of modernity.

Piles of rubbish, just like in Tie Xi Qu, were a regular site, even next to our local noodle restaurant.

The Shenyang skyline in all its grey beauty,

Being held up on the way to school, by a man and his donkey.

As seen in Tie Xi Qu, its never a bad time to play a game.

The new Underground system, extremely clean and efficient.

Under The Skin and Cinematic language

Under The Skin (2013) has been met with such a wide range of opinions, from disgust to amazement, that it is almost impossible not become intrigue by what you will see once you take your seat. Under The Skin, for me, is simply one of, if not the, best film made by a British director.

Under The Skin maintains a sense of transparency and opaqueness, letting you get close, inviting the cliché that it gets ‘under the skin of the audience’, while also refusing to be easily defined. Glazer clearly understands cinematic language, and knows how to play with it. Glazer’s previous film, Birth (2004), is full of audience manipulation, making you believe the impossible, letting it and wanting it to convince you, before revealing the mundane fact that it is exactly what it seems like. However Under The Skin sees Glazer creating new ways of using film, creating new ways to use language, which goes some way to explaining how some have been so incredibly repulsed by the film.

 Visually Glazer is willing to experiment more than most, layering images upon each other for symbolism. At one stage, Johansson is shown beneath a collection of images with a yellowy hue. As images flash by, melt into each other, drift out of the screen, we are seeing how Johansson sees the world, a confusing mix of flashes. Never has Earth seemed so alien. We can barely understand what we are being shown, and nor can Johansson. We later get a more defined image layered image, Johansson sleeping in an ocean of trees. It provides a strange, startling image as Johansson slowly melts into the image of the forest. Glazer could have left us with the image of her asleep in the cabin, however Glazer chooses something far more alien, something that not only shows her asleep, but connotes a whole host of simultaneous meanings. Does it mean she is starting to understand and become part of Earth as the image literally shows us? Or is it saying the opposite, that the fact she is looks so strange that she could never be part of this world? We have seen how she has struggled to assimilate with humans, and her strangely floating in the forest seems to symbolise something similar. I would go with the latter, but there is an interesting case for both, especially in light of the ending.

During the first half of the film, some of the most creative set-pieces involve men Johansson has picked up being drawn into the black ectoplasm. Watching the men sink into it, only for Johansson to walk back over it moments after are powerful images, but the moments prior to these events are perhaps just as interesting. A lot of the first half of the film involves people watching from her white van. Her inviting men into her van, men who had no idea they were even being filmed. Glazer has purposefully flipped the infamous ‘male gaze’ here. The men are completely objectified by Johansson, they have one purpose only for her, and she will spend hours just watching, hunting around, to find the right man. Johansson becomes an incredibly powerful creature, partly sexually, partly for her otherworldliness. When the men are instead ‘gazing’ at her (one man with a fully erect penis), they literally walk straight into their death without even noticing. There is no struggle, no fight, just the inevitable sinking into blackness. Their gaze is made impotent, so hollow that they eventually become just skin floating around in the ectoplasm. This intentional change of gaze again may explain why many critics have perhaps felt uncomfortable watching Under The Skin, with male critics suddenly finding themselves the objectified, rather than the one objectifying. It is, after all, more fun watching, than being watched.

A slightly more traditional, but just as creative sequence is during the ‘creation process’ during the opening. The opening is comparable to scenes in The Tree of Life (2011) creation sequence, or the Star Child in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). We are shown confusing images of things we can only assume are parts of DNA or blood cells floating and merging, creating Johansson into the alien being that she is. Images quickly shift from CGI images into an extreme close-up of an eyeball, the process of creation being completed at that moment. As well as these images, we hear her practicing sounds, words, in order to complete her transformation. We are left to piece together the meanings of these images and sounds, as it is not clearly explained at all, with only the harsh-cut to the eyeball giving any form of explanation. Glazer is brave enough to throw the audience into the deep-end straight away, throwing in questions a load of existentialist questions from the first moment about what it means to be human. Throwing these questions straight at the audience right at the start is bound to put people off, but it sets up an incredibly deep and unique film, full of images and sounds that will haunt of days.

British Indie Film Renaissance? Maybe not…

MaryAnn Johanson recently wrote an interesting piece for indiewire, entitled ‘Why British Film is in the Middle of an Indie Renaissance’[1]. It was widely shared, receiving attention all the way up to the BFI who were quick to jump on an unbiased appraisal of British Cinema. I have also written about the strong state of British cinema[2], which has also incidentally been my most viewed written piece on this blog. There is obviously a strong interest in current British cinema. However, I do have a major problem with the writing of Johanson with this piece, and that is the term, ‘indie’.

The term Independent Cinema since the 1990s has entered, in an almost paradoxical way, the mainstream. Quickly big budget studios were attempting to push films with an indie tag, selling it as unique, fresh, and interesting. It has become almost a genre within itself. People would not flinch at someone saying “I saw this fantastic indie movie the other day!”, just as that wouldn’t flinch at someone saying they saw a fantastic horror film. But people are easily duped into believing it is an Independent production, when it rarely is.

A discussion of what is truly independent is an impossible task, as it is an almost impossible criteria to attain. If we are to take it at its most literal sense, this would mean a film made with no restrictions whatsoever, and therefore we would be limiting ourselves to a small handful of films. I, therefore, do not wish to attempt to state a firm definition of what ‘indie’ cinema is, but a few broad statements that can help place films within this context. I do think it is fair to say that if a film receives financial support from an major outside source, one that often runs into the millions, the film is more than likely not a true independent movie. This obviously rules out American studio-productions, but becomes slightly more tricky in non-American movies, where the studio system is not the same. I would therefore like to suggest that if a film is made for more than ten times the average yearly wage of an average citizen in that country, the chances are again that it has received a fair amount of outside support. If we are to take the UK as an example of this, where the average yearly wage is £26,500[3], this gives a fairly large budget of £265,000. This is obviously open for criticism, as it is a very cheap and quick barometer to measure by, but does give some sort of range to consider.

We could delve deeper into this, to investigate with whom final cut was with, if outside support was provided unconditionally, and so on, but this would then require a film by film investigation. I rather, for now, provide the shorthand approach mentioned before to the films MaryAnn Johanson has discussed.

My two main problems with the films mentioned by her are, firstly, the broad usage of ‘British film’, and broad usage of ‘indie’. Here, we can look at each film mentioned by Johanson, and use the term broad ideas I have also used. In her opening paragraph we are presented with a strange selection of films to use as an introduction for British indies:

Gravity (2013)– As Johanson acknowledges, is studio backed, and is therefore a strange example by Johanson in an article about independent cinema.

Les Misérables(2012) –Budget of $61mil, and heavy studio support.

World War Z (2013) – A mind-boggling budget of $190mil, not exactly indie cinema range…

Fast and Furious 6 (2013)– Another massive budget of $160mil, and with very little British involvement.

Rush(2013) – Johanson stats that its budget of $38mil is ‘paltry’ (for who exactly?!), as well as acknowledging its Hollywood money, instead claiming that its British cinematography and location of sets makes it a perfect example.

We are then taken onto how the Harry Potter series has drawn big productions to British shores (again, this is clearly true, but I struggle to see its relevance to an article about independent cinema?). We are also teased with the future big budget American films that are shot in the UK, Fury (2014) and the new Star Wars (2015) films.

Johanson then presents us with some core films of her argument.

Locke (2013) – Made on a budget of under $2million[4] is a more realistic example of British Independent cinema. However this is another cross-country production, joint with American support through American production company IM Global.

Dom Hemingway (2013) – Although I failed to find the budget for this film, it did receive a large amount of studio support from the likes of BBC Films,  as well receiving distribution from major faux-indie companies, Lionsgate and Fox Searchlight Pictures.

Filth (2013) – Another slightly too high budget at £3million, but can fairly be classed as a purely British (Scottish?) film with about as little interference a film of that budget that could expect.

A Fantastic Fear of Everything (2013) – Again, I struggled to find the exact budget, but it was financed by a Pinewood Films initiative to help low-budget British films[5]. Although a positive thing, it would be silly to claim that no interference or ideology would have been placed on this film.

The Selfish Giant (2013) – Clio Bernard is one of the key British film-makers today, but The Selfish Giant received huge support (and rightly so) from both the BFI and Film4.

Sightseers (2012) and A Field in England (2013) – This pair of films are both fantastic, and provide examples of fresh British cinema. A Field in England is perhaps the closest example of independent cinema. However, it became a flagship film for Film4, as it was released simultaneously by them in Cinema, Television, VOD and DVD. A lot of money was pumped into the release of it in this experiment. The film however is unarguably unique.

Metro Manila (2013) – Is just as Filipino as it is English, and can be claimed as either. I do however feel this is perhaps the truest out of all the films mentioned as being British indie cinema.

Philomena (2013) - $12mil budget staring Judi Dench and Steve Coogan?

The Invisible Woman (2013) – Another big name project, all the way from director, writer and cast.

Under the Skin (2013) – Another joint production with America, staring Scarlett Johansson, and despite its strange story is unlikely to have received little interference.

The Double (2013) – Big names in cast, big financial support, and big distribution.

What MaryAnn Johanson has attempted to write about is fantastic, and a lot of the films mentioned by her deserve more recognition. However these are nearly all not really independent films by any stretch. British mainstream cinema is currently in a fantastic place, and great films are often being made by British people, and big productions are being drawn to Britain. However, independent, low to no-budget cinema is almost non-existent.

Collective film-movements, or film websites, discussion, or festivals are few, and far between in the UK. The Raindance Film Festival is perhaps the only festival that gets any sort of recognition that takes any risks with the types of no-budget films it shows. However, very few of these films or those involved take a step-up into the mainstream. The bridge between these two worlds is not there sadly, despite the talent obviously being there. Despite it never being easier to watch films for cheap, no truly low-budget film has exploded onto the British scene in the way it has often done in American cinema. There is no, and will be no British Indie Renaissance until that bridge can be made stable, and sustainable.

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[1] http://www.indiewire.com/article/why-british-film-is-in-the-middle-of-an-indie-renaissance

[2] http://whatsthepointofcinema.blogspot.com/2013/11/new-british-cinema-post-2000-cinema-in.html

[3] http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-20442666

[4] http://www.screendaily.com/reviews/the-latest/locke/5059867.article

[5] http://collider.com/fantastic-fear-of-everything-image-simon-pegg/

Frownland and Disability

So far the only feature directed by Ronald Bronstein, Frownland (2007) is one of the most powerful films from the 2000s, and from the independent scene in America. Bronstein spends over an hour and half tearing its audience apart with its lead character, played to painful affect by Dore Mann. Frownland won the Special Jury Prize at SXSW Film Festival.

Bronstein, in his feature, creates a film that not only makes you hate the characters, but hate yourself for hating him. Dore Mann plays Keith, who although never stated, seems to have some sort of disability that prevents him from dealing with apparently simple and easy day-to-day social encounters. Although you are aware that you should feel sorry for him as he struggles, it is almost impossible not to wish to lash out like the characters around him. This conflict has stuck with me since first seeing Frownland. Should I feel sorry for him? Am I bad for feeling sorry for him? Does he even deserve any sympathy?

Keith is treated badly, lives in mess and poverty, and yet it seems impossible to have any sympathy for him. Bronstein however seems to be attempting to empower Keith by removing his disability from the equation. It becomes a background factor, and rather we judge Keith on his day-to-day actions. Disability, when featured in a film, is often the key feature to that film, the driving force behind the narrative, something we, the ‘normal’ can belittle and sympathises with. We attempt to fit them into a spectrum we understand, making ‘them’ more like ‘us’. We watch a film like Rain Man (1988) in order to see him ‘overcome’ his terrible life, attempting to ‘normalise’ him instead of embracing what he is. The Intouchables (2011) is a more recent high-profile example. Very few films embrace its main character’s disability or refuse to sympathise with it. Whereas Frownland normalises by making us not feel sympathy for Keith, Beeswax (2009) does this by almost ignoring the fact our main character is in a wheel-chair, or Punch-Drunk Love (2002) placing its character in a traditional rom-com situation, while embracing its slightly off-kilter lead.

The ugliness of the characters, Keith’s struggle to understand what is happening around him, is matched by the direction of Bronstein, who never allows the viewer to settle. We are constantly presented with blurry, hard to understand images on scratchy film. This is done more than for aesthetic reasons, but rather to give an idea on how hard it is for Keith to understand daily social situations. When we can’t focus, Keith can’t focus, we panic, are frustrated, confused. We can understand Keith, yet not can’t as well. It’s beautiful, painful, tormenting and destroying. For a short amount of time, you are placed in the mind of someone who cannot deal with simple situations, and we quickly begin to hate ourselves for becoming part of it. Just as Keith clearly hates himself for living. The only difference is after 110 minutes.

All done on a tiny-budget.

Kentucker Audley - What's The Point of Cinema?

KENTUCKER AUDLEY -

"I make movies to document the personalities and relationships of those around me. 

What I get out of watching movies is a pure mystery, which I like to preserve."

Filmography

Director - 

Team Picture (2007)

Holy Land (2010)

Open Five (2010)

Open Five 2 (2012)

Actor (Selected) -

Marriage Material (2012)

V/H/S (2012)

Sun Don't Shine (2012)

Ain't Them Bodies Saints (2013)

NOBUDGE - NoBudge is an online screening venue & hub for true indie films. It was started in February 2011 by filmmaker Kentucker Audley to premiere & compile true indie films.

Anti-War films and The Wolf of Wall Street

After reading the fantastically written and studied article by Tyler Sage on BrightLights Film about The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), and if it condemns or promotes the rash behaviour of its protagonists, I couldn't help wonder about the comparison used by him in regards to anti-war films. He lists a number of films that are supposedly ‘anti-war’, focusing on Apocalypse Now (1979), Platoon (1986) and Full Metal Jacket (1987). It discusses the idea that by demonstrating war in itself, they are in essence glorifying it, no matter how brutal the images that are shown are. He pulls an example from Tony Swofford and how these films demonstrate the ‘magic brutality’ of war. Sage extends this to The Wolf of Wall Street where the ‘magic of excess’ is shown. In simple terms, how can it be ‘anti-anything’, when it looks so great and is so much fun to watch?

However, it seems to me that Sage, as well as Swofford are aware that this is not always the case. Sage quotes Swofford in his memoir, Jarhead,

 "Mr. and Mrs. Johnson in Omaha or San Francisco or Manhattan . . . watch the films and weep and decide once and for all that war is inhuman and terrible," while at the same time, "Corporal Johnson at Camp Pendleton and Sergeant Johnson at Travis Air Force base . . . and Lance Corporal Swofford at Twentynine Palms Marine Corps Base watch the same films and are excited by them, because the magic brutality of the films celebrates the terrible and despicable beauty of their fighting skills."

Swofford acknowledges the paradox of this (and films in general), in that two people can watch the same film and get two different versions. Whereas as one is repulsed by the images, someone else is just as likely to find it exciting and wish to replicate. You are just as likely to be for it, as against it.

I do feel that there are films that are generally seen as ‘anti-war’, but become explicitly ‘pro-war’ by demonstrating it as glorious and heroic. Saving Private Ryan (1998) is perhaps the best example of this, with its infamous extended opening on the beaches. Spielberg shows the brutality, but shows it as heroic, as ‘us vs. them’, ‘good vs. bad’. It’s almost impossible not to want to join those men on the beaches. This, for me, makes it a failure in its aims. In contrast, a film from the same year, The Thin Red Line (1998), is able to show the brutality of war, without giving into the same traps as Saving Private Ryan. We instead see the inner-conflict within those taking part, and how it destroys them, as well as everything around them. These are what separates good cinema from bad cinema, intending to send a message, and sending it in a clear and correct manner. Saving Private Ryan by sticking to structure muddles its message, whereas The Thin Red Line by using muddling voiceovers and scenes has a clear and structured messaged. War will always be controversial and provoke innate response both for and against it, and money (and therefore power) provokes the same kind of extreme reactions.

The Wolf of Wall Street completes a trio of films from 2013 that deal with excessive natures (specifically of that in America), and how money corrupts. The Bling Ring and Pain and Gain look at this in contrasting ways, with Pain and Gain being more along the same lines as The Wolf of Wall Street in its chaotic nature, matching its extreme topic with extreme displays on-screen. All three have been met with mixed responses in a certain manner, suggesting similar conflicts with the audience when discussing greed. The Wolf of Wall Street examines corruption at its most extreme and ugliness. The Wolf of Wall Street is played for laughs, Jordan Belfort is such a disgusting person, and with Scorsese ramping everything up, it’s almost impossible not to see the humour involved. We are shown the absolutely ridiculousness of these men who can get whatever they want, but we are always laughing at them, not with them. These are terrible people who are guilty of greed at its most extreme. Scenes of Di Caprio crawling to his car are incredibly well done and made, but who truly wants to be in that state? Criticising the ending, questioning if Belfort ‘got what he deserved’ seem even stranger. Well the answer is obvious, he didn't, but do any of these men, both then, and now get what they deserve for exploitation? Scorsese shows us what is wrong with capitalism, where a person can get off with mass-fraud with limited punishment, in a fairly comfortable environment. By making the film into almost a farce, Scorsese however makes this idea more accessible than perhaps other attempts to demonstrate the same idea in a more obvious way. Many reviewers seem to be struggle with the blurring of lines between enjoying and appreciating the film, but not agreeing with the characters actions. By enjoying (or not enjoying) you are not agreeing (or disagreeing) with what a film is saying. Criticising 12 Years a Slave (2013) for poorly sending its message does not mean you condone slavery, nor does enjoying The Wolf of Wall Street mean you like Jordan Belfort.

Where I do feel The Wolf of Wall Street does let itself down is in terms of its near complete dismissal of women. Its main female roles are purely sex objects, and the surrounding roles are often objectified. The clearest example of this is during one of Belfort’s speeches, in which he points out a female member of staff who had been in the company since the start. However this is the first time we have seen her, or even mentioned. She is wholly ignored, perhaps because Scorsese felt that women had no place within this pumped up environment. Does this however make the film sexiest? Again, no, but it does give it a massive blind spot that needs to be addressed by film critics when discussing the film.

Or, perhaps I am just a greedy sexiest pig, because I loved every moment of The Wolf of Wall Street.

Black Cinema and Gaining Recognition

12 Years a Slave (2013) is a fantastically powerful work, one that has deservedly-so been gaining acclaim from critics and the average cinema-goer. It has also gained a heap of nominations at this year’s Oscars, leading to the discussion of ‘will Steve McQueen be the first black director to win?’[1]. After watching the film, and being a huge admirer of the previous two McQueen feature films, I couldn’t help but wonder why this film has led to McQueen making a massive jump into the mainstream conciseness. Hunger (2008) and Shame (2011) are as equally compelling and creative as 12 Years a Slave, yet received none of the same adulation in the mainstream (both did however do fantastically well with critics and on the festival circuit). All three films seem to deal with taboo subjects, Hunger with IRA hunger strikes, Shame with sex addiction, 12 Years a Slave with slavery. All three deal with issues of the body, all have scenes and structures that stray from the norm and all three maintain a visual beauty to them.

The main difference is clear however, 12 Years a Slave deals purely with a ‘black-persons history’. It can be called a ‘black story’, and located as ‘black cinema’. Whereas the other two are ‘raceless’[2], 12 Years a Slave can be specifically sold as a black film by a black director. This may seem counter-intuitive in the fact that if it is a ‘black film’, then how can it become the norm in a white mainstream. But slavery is something white people can feel sympathy for, being able to stand from afar and say “Yes, what terrible things happen to black people!”, feel satisfied and then leave the cinema. By watching 12 Years a Slave, the vastly white majority of Oscar voters (94% are white, 77% male. 2% are black[3]) can show that they do care about black people. It can be argued therefore that there is almost a taboo about criticising a film such as 12 Years a Slave. If you criticise the film, are you therefore saying you don’t care about the treatment of people during slavery? Of course not, but with the rise of White Guilt[4], white people are often weary of race-related comments. Add to this a lot of old white men man panicking over their voting cards, then we are bound to get some strange voting. This almost makes the voting hollow. If the white voters can find a film in which they can seem to prove they actually do care about black people, then they can feel satisfied.

We can see this kind of view with previous nominees. If we look at the two previous black director nominees, Boyz N The Hood (1991) by John Singleton and Precious (2009) by Lee Daniels, we can see similar themes where white people can say “Oh what terrible things are happening!”. Boyz N The Hood allows old white men to not only seem ‘cool’ and ‘hip’, but to also show they care about the ‘young street urchin’ who can’t help themselves. Precious allows them to feel sorry for the stupid, ugly, fat black girl who is riddled with disease and cannot look after her own child. With the help of a white support team however, she can pull through! Both help fulfil negative black stereotypes, while simultaneously giving the white audience the satisfaction of feeling they care and want to help these poor people. Lee Daniels presents an interesting case to support this. The Paperboy (2012) is a non-race specific, and was ignored by the mainstream (despite star-names being involved). However his follow-up to that, Lee Daniels’ The Butler (2013), this time a race specific film, become one of the biggest financial hits of 2013 (it did however miss out on Oscar nominations despite gaining awards elsewhere. Perhaps one black film a year is enough?).

This is repeated in Best Picture nominees, and those with black producers. In addition to the three mentioned, we also have The Colour Purple (1985) that talks of slavery and poverty. The Blind Side (2009) with a stupid black man who makes it to the NFL thanks to his white adoptive Mother, and finally Django Unchained (2012) with Tarantino blaxploitation riff on slavery. Again, all are able to fit into a race-specific frame work, which limits black people into only a few select stories, that of poverty and slavery.

This is not to say that any of these films are bad. I would say that out of those mentioned, only The Blind Side is overtly racist and poor. Nor do I feel these films intend to re-enforce negative (or any) stereotypes, but what they do do, is reaffirm the limited number of stories that can be had for films involving black people. This does not mean that story on slavery is any less important or valued because of this.  Although a Best Director win at this year’s Oscars for McQueen would be a fantastic leap for black directors, it will not really break any ‘glass-ceiling’ for black directors. Until a black director makes a film that cannot be identified as being black, and wins major awards for it, are we truly making progression in terms of where non-white film-makers are in Hollywood and the mainstream.

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[1] http://www.theguardian.com/culture/2014/jan/17/steve-mcqueen-first-black-director-oscar

[2] Raceless in the terms that white characters are seen as the norm. More reading can be done on this with the essay by Peggy McIntosh and ‘White Privilege’. http://www.amptoons.com/blog/files/mcintosh.html

[3] http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/movies/academy/la-et-unmasking-oscar-academy-project-html,0,7473284.htmlstory#axzz2qw13rmVH

[4] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_guilt