Wednesday, April 16, 2008

PROGRAMMER PROFILE: JOEL SHEPARD

When Sean Uyehara spoke with Yerba Buena Center for the Art's film and video curator Joel Shepard for SF360 roughly a year ago, he described Joel as just "about as understated as it gets." Clearly, a healthy dose of humility helps Joel Shepard maintain perspective. But it only takes a cursory glance at YBCA's upcoming film programs to determine Joel's brave, exploratory if not downright edgy vision. I thought it was high time he and I had a talk so I was pleased when he accepted my invitation for Thai food at Cha'am.

* * *

Michael Guillén: So Joel, you're going into your second decade of programming.

Joel Shepard: Oh God….

Guillén: That's remarkable! Roughly half of that time has been at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts ("YBCA")? Where were you programming before YBCA?

Shepard: I moved to San Francisco in 1994. I worked for the San Francisco Cinematheque for three years. I wasn't the programmer there; I was the associate director. I moved from Minneapolis and I was programming there for two organizations for about five years.

Guillén: How did you score the position at YBCA?

Shepard: I was working at Cinematheque and I wasn't particularly happy there. I wanted to get back into more fulltime programming. Yerba Buena hired a new executive director who came from Minneapolis. I knew him from there. We had worked together on some projects. At that time, YBCA didn't have a developed film program. They had the screening room but they didn't really know what they were doing. They had someone who would organize a screening once in a while. When my friend from Minneapolis hired on as executive director, he decided he wanted to have a film program that would be on par with the visual and performing arts programs. So they opened up the job and I ended up getting it. I was very lucky. I got to pretty much build the program from scratch to get things the way I wanted them to be. They didn't even have the 35mm projector yet. It wasn't a proper screening room. You can't do a real film program without 35mm. That was something I had to make happen right away.

Guillén: That was luck! Curatorial and programming positions are in high demand. Your training at the Art Institute of Chicago was in film though, right? Did they offer curatorial training there?

Shepard: No. They didn't have it. CCA now has a curatorial studies department but it's more for visual arts than film. I went to the Art Institute of Chicago because I loved film. I have since I was a kid. My dad was a huge film buff and he passed it on to me, I think. He used to take us to movies all the time. He'd put us kids in pajamas and go to the drive-in, stuff like that. He was one of the first people in Minneapolis to buy a VCR when the BETAMax first came out and they cost $3,000. You could only record an hour at a time. So I studied film in Chicago but I didn't really feel that was where my talents were. I tried to make film but I was really terrible at it. [Chuckles.] But I loved watching film and writing about film and spreading enthusiasm about film.

Guillén: I would definitely call you a film enthusiast, which is a term that has come into its own recently with the advent of internet journalism and the opportunity to distinguish one's writing from more familiar consumer advocacy film criticism. You have certainly gained a name and a following in the Bay Area. You're one of my favorite programmers! You have an idiosyncratic style and vision. What is it you want to offer at YBCA that isn't being offered elsewhere?

Shepard: Well, that's what I want to do: offer what isn't being offered elsewhere. We never really repeat what any other venue in town is doing. I do a lot of detective work, looking under rocks and finding films that have been overlooked by other venues.

Guillén: How do you accomplish that gumshoe work? Do you study other venues' calendars?

Shepard: I do some of that. I go to two or three film festivals every year. I sometimes go to Toronto, though that doesn't tend to be where I discover things. I go to Rotterdam or Pusan where you have a much better chance of discovering something off the beaten track. It also comes from knowing a lot of film history. When I got started, what I wanted to do was celebrate a lot of film genres and areas of film that were considered disreputable. I did a lot of exploitation programming at first—stuff that people were kind of scared to do in the field—and looking at things like educational films, things that weren't considered serious film, but looking at them in a new way to see what the past reveals about the present. That's been a challenge. In my early programming years, I was doing a lot of that. That's all become much more popular but I was a pioneer! [Laughs.]

Guillén: It's got to start somewhere!

Shepard: And I think there are plenty of holes. Even though we have an amazing film culture here in the Bay Area, there's still a lot that has been forgotten in even high level film and major contemporary art cinema. The San Francisco International Film Festival can only do so much and they forget about things or there are things that slip through.

Guillén: Your attention to the careers of Apichatpong Weerasethakul and Carlos Reygadas was where you caught my eye, especially through the residency programs where the filmmaker was present to discuss his films. How were those residencies financed?

Shepard: We used to have a grant from the Lila Wallace Readers Digest Fund for residencies. YBCA got a big grant of a million dollars so for a while there for a few years I was able to program more extended visits from filmmakers. We had other ones too before Apichatpong. We had Jim Hoberman from The Village Voice who came for a weeklong series of programs. We had a great South African filmmaker named Ian Kerkhof [now Aryan Kaganof]. Early on, we had a little more experimentally-oriented filmmakers, and a mix of critics and filmmakers, Jonathan Rosenbaum did a weeklong series.

Guillén: I wish I would have been more into film at that point. I regret missing those programs. I'm certainly looking forward to Hoberman attending this year's SF International.

Shepard: We've had a lot over the years; but, we lost the grant. We ran out of money on the grant and it wasn't renewed. Now I can only do one thing a year. One or two. I try to add an element that you can't get elsewhere; some "live" part of the screening, especially with the artist there, but one can't always do that. I looked at all these art venues around the country and it seemed like they were all doing the same things. They were all circulating the same film programs to each other. No one took any risks. That's what I want to do.

Guillén: And YBCA is a supportive atmosphere that honors your risk taking?

Shepard: Yeah. I'm very lucky in that regard. I'm not sure that the program that I do could work anywhere else.

Guillén: I love your blend of "high" and "low" art—if those categories even apply—and that you test your audiences regarding those categories. You admirably mix art films with genre and exploitation pieces.

Shepard: That's what I try to do. Not privilege one cinema over the other. Find value in all forms of cinema. I think it's there but you've got to pull it out. It makes a difference to be completely sincere and honest with people, with filmmakers. I've been able to get films that the San Francisco International Film Festival wanted by being completely honest with people and saying, "Yeah, you'll get a bigger audience if you show it in the International Film Festival; but, I can offer you something different. I can offer you an intimate screening that will have a bit more meaning to people and be much more interactive. You'll make contacts in a different way."

Guillén: I respect that you say you want to do your own thing; but, doesn't coalition work help in securing and circulating programs?

Shepard: When I was a little younger, I was like, "I'm doing totally my own thing. I'm a maverick!" [Chuckles.] But, actually, you want to share.

Guillén: Especially if you've put so much effort into curating a program and pulling it together?

Shepard: Yeah, and especially if you can help something get screened more. I do have respective colleagues so—if I do show something—it gives it a stamp of approval and people will look seriously at it elsewhere.

Guillén: By example, you've just finished up the Nikkatsu Action Cinema series—"No Borders, No Limits"—which was quite well-received here in the Bay Area. Kimberly Lindbergs provided a great overview at her site Cinebeats and Brian Darr followed through with a fun review of A Colt Is My Passport at Hell On Frisco Bay. I sampled the series via Red Handkerchief. The Nikkatsu Action Cinema series was, however, a program that had been generated elsewhere?

Shepard: Yeah. I chose highlights from a bigger series originally created by Mark Schilling for the Udine Far East Film Festival. I thought the series shouldn't play just in Udine; these films should be screened beyond that festival. So Schilling and I worked together to bring some of the films to San Francisco and the series is playing in a few cities throughout the country.

Guillén: And most of these films are not available on video?

Shepard: None of them are. Not even in Japan. This was your chance to see these films. A lot of what I do is like, "This is it!"

Guillén: Yet, you have done some encore programming, such as with Zidane, which you brought back due to popular demand, and which several folks are still clamoring to see.

Shepard: We still have the print sitting in my office. We had 16 sold-out screenings of Zidane so I thought, "That's enough." But, amazingly, people still want to see it. It's a beautiful film.

Guillén: Can we talk about your upcoming programs? You've got some amazing stuff coming up, not the least of which is Jia Zhang-ke's films Dong and Useless. Following closely on the San Francisco International screening of Still Life and its theatrical distribution at the Roxie, this will get San Franciscan audiences up to speed with Jia Zhang-ke's films.

Shepard: There's so much interest in China now.

Guillén: Absolutely. You're aware that the first film to sell out its screenings at the San Francisco International is Up the Yangtze?

Shepard: It's amazing too because there are so many films on that subject. It's just so timely. Actually, our next residency is a Chinese filmmaker.

Guillén: Really? May I ask who?

Shepard: He's not super well-known; it's Wang Bing.

Guillén: Oooooh! I caught his short Brutality Factory in the State of the World omnibus that Yerba Buena screened a while back. It was actually the most compelling of the batch.

Shepard: He has this amazing film called Fengming, A Chinese Memoir. Prior to the Cultural Revolution in China there was another movement called the Anti-Rightist Movement, which was a similar kind of movement. Basically, anybody with any power to spread intellectual ideas—teachers—were shuttled away and put into work camps. The whole film is very simple. He basically sets up a camera and this woman tells her whole story of getting involved in this. It shows an intellectual, an English teacher, her going to the work camps, losing her children because of this, and then the movement dissolves and these people finally go back into society. It's absolutely frightening.

Guillén: I was stunned by Brutality Factory. Not only did it look great; but, it was truly disturbing. I thought a lot about it afterwards.

Shepard: He's primarily a documentary filmmaker. His style is to stare at something until it reveals itself.

Guillén: That's certainly a residency to look forward to! Now, your program on Queer Satanists—"Homoccult and Other Esoterotica"—first of all, did you come up with that title? Are you creating language for us again? [Laughter.]

Shepard: No, that's somebody else. That's a guest-curated program by some crazy gay guys in New York. I like to do guest-curated programs. There's a lot of talent out there.

Guillén: But you've cautioned me that it's fairly challenging?

Shepard: It's pretty rough stuff, yeah. Some of it. Not the whole thing.

Guillén: There's a sold-out program right there!

Shepard: [Chuckles.] Probably. It's a good title they came up with; but, yeah, it's pretty esoteric; the dark side of male sexuality.

Guillén: It includes bloodletting?

Shepard: Yeah, some of those performance artists who cut themselves.

Guillén: And Asia Argento isn't around to lap it up or anything? [Laughter.]

Shepard: No. I'm not sure she'd like the real thing.

Guillén: One of my all-time favorite filmmakers is "Joe", of course, and so your programs of his short works is highly anticipated. Are these the same pieces that were shown at REDCAT in Los Angeles?

Shepard: Some of them. It's more than what they showed down there. This is two full programs. Three and a half hours of material that he's been making since early in his career. That's his prime inspiration: experimental filmmaking. Filmmakers like Bruce Baillie, Stan Brakhage, and filmmakers like that were why he started making films. He actually went to the Art Institute of Chicago too. It's almost all non-narrative work and it's great to be able to see it together. Some of the films have floated through various film festivals but it's never been assembled all together. I'm not sure if any of them have been shown in San Francisco before.

Guillén: Being that your film programs are situated within an art facility, I imagine that has allowed you to indulge experimental film, which would be difficult to program elsewhere?

Shepard: It's tricky because it's so hard to get audiences. That's my orientation ultimately. Experimental film is the kind of film that's closest to my heart. That's what my education was in. That was the emphasis at the Art Institute of Chicago. That's what opened my eyes to the possibility of cinema and the non-narrative. It changed me forever to see these kinds of films. I remember the first film that changed things was Andy Warhol's Chelsea Girls. I saw that in Minneapolis and it showed me that film could be totally different than what I thought it was.

Guillén: In the face of the parade of meaningless and uninteresting product coming out of Hollywood and Indiewood, experimental cinema offers the chance for something fresh. Admittedly, however, it's an acquired taste. I'm still developing my taste for it. I have several friends who have ushered me to programs of experimental shorts and have had to lash me down to the seat for fear that I didn't do harm to myself. [Laughter.]

Shepard: It takes a while. I know.

Guillén: But I'm getting there! Joe was the first experimental filmmaker who really spoke to me. I think the culture has matured as well in how experimental tropes—if that's the right word—have influenced mainstream film.

Shepard: Yeah, that's kind of what Joe's doing, using all these experimental techniques in feature filmmaking.

Guillén: So following the queer Satanists program is a weekend of witchcraft programming. What's going on? Halloween in mid-May?

Shepard: I guess so. I don't know where that came from. I'm not really sure. [Chuckles.] I think it was because I had picked up that Carl Dreyer box set and it had his Day of Wrath in it, which is just so stunning, it has so much weight. So the Witchcraft Weekend was just a little tossed-off series. I think Snow White will look great in that screening room, in an intimate space where you can study the whole frame. I think it's the first Disney film we've ever shown. [Also included in the Witchcraft Weekend will be Benjamin Christensen's Witchcraft Through the Ages and William O. Brown's The Witchmaker.]

Guillén: Another jewel in the upcoming program lineup is Ukranian director Sergei Parajanov's Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors.

Shepard: It's never been very accessible and it's a masterpiece of world cinema. It's one of those films that has only been available on crummy 16mm prints over the years and there's now a new print of it that really some place like the Castro should be showing; but, they've gotten a little more conservative in their repertory programming. They passed on it.

Guillén: They're distracted by scoring the new Indiana Jones movie.

Shepard: I heard about that.

Guillén: Indiana Jones and Sex in the City.

Shepard: They're doing that too?

Guillén: Yup. I think Sex in the City is going to premiere in San Francisco at the Castro. It kind of makes sense though. We all know those female characters in Sex in the City are really gay men. I'm not as opposed to the Castro adjusting their programming to include blockbuster first runs as some are because, again, my focus is on the sociality of film culture and the Castro Theatre is one of the City's main social venues. Above all, I want the theater to survive and if red carpet events enable that, I'm okay with it. Yerba Buena is likewise one of the City's prime social watering holes. Along with your consummate film programming, the venue has a social cachet going for it.

Shepard: I wish we could make it moreso. I wish we could add a café or more of a socializing space that people could spend time in after the screenings to discuss them. It would be great. Some of the theaters in Europe have a little bar in the cinema where you can hang around afterwards. We don't really have that. Our institution's kind of cold. We try to do things to warm it up a little bit; but, it's tough.

Guillén: That being said, however, the fact that you have created a social circle that frequents and meets in the screening room has its warmth, which I personally appreciate. It's always fun to run into friends there. One of your past programs that was such a great evening—a memorable social event really—was The Wild Pussycat. That was such a hoot! The audience just ate it up. It was so much fun. Sure, it wasn't a masterpiece, but it had just enough schtick to it and enough cult history to it that it made it just a lot of fun to be in the YBCA screening room that night.

Shepard: There's a place for fun in cinema. That's another thing that bothered me when I first got started in this work; was just how sober and serious everything was these art theaters were doing. I felt there was room for other stuff.

Guillén: Absolutely! Kent Jones in his recent collection of critical essays has a great piece defending the summer blockbuster. It truly impressed me that someone of his stature would accommodate the public taste for the summer blockbuster. Continuing on with your program line-up, what's Yoga, Inc. about?

Shepard: There are no films about yoga that I'm aware of. Yoga, Inc. is a new documentary about the corporatization of yoga. It's about this guy Bikram Choudhury who's so popular. But there's a dark side to what he's doing. He's trying to copyright certain yoga poses. It's really a film about how yoga was initially a spiritual thing and how it's become a phenomenon where people are basically showing off difficult positions.

Guillén: The ongoing hazards of spiritual materialism.

Shepard: Yeah. It's another film that's sort of passed everyone by and I know there would be an audience for it.

Guillén: How about Mike Kelley's Day Is Done? I'm not familiar with him.

Shepard: That's more of a fine art type of film. He's more for an SFMoma type of audience. It's really quite an epic that he's made, nearly three hours. He's looked at hundreds of high school yearbooks and reconstructed many of the corny scenes from high school yearbooks of dress-up days, punk day, and various concerts and proms, stuff like that. He's turned this stuff around. It's a series of sketches and recreations from yearbooks; but, it's more of an SFMoma-prestige program. It's kind of difficult stuff.

Guillén: When you're finding out about these rare overlooked films and placing them in your programs, is the actual screening at YBCA the first time you've seen the films?

Shepard: You don't want to do that, no. You can't do that. I mean, sometimes you have to do that with certain films. Like there were a couple of these Japanese films that I couldn't see in advance, two of the six I couldn't see, but normally, no, you don't want to do that. It could get you into trouble. Sometimes it's necessary, especially if you're doing a whole retrospective of someone's work. There's going to be something that's not available.

Guillén: Philippe Garrel's films have been having a recent resurgence. J'entends plus la guitare (I Don't Hear the Guitar Anymore) has been written up here and there lately. It's made me curious how people are accessing the film. Is it available on DVD?

Shepard: No.

Guillén: Is a new print traveling around?

Shepard: There's a guy working for the Brooklyn Academy of Music that has started this tiny company The Film Desk that's releasing two films, this one and Monsieur Verdoux. So he's making J'entends plus la guitare available. It opened in New York a couple of weeks ago for a meager one-week run there. Garrel is well-known for his long relationship with Nico from The Velvet Underground and that's what this film is about: his very traumatic relationship with Nico. She died of a heroin overdose during their relationship and J'entends plus la guitare is a retelling of that in an oblique way. We're going to pair it with Andy Warhol's film on The Velvet Underground, which is the only sync sound film ever recorded of that band. It's pretty raw.

Guillén: You're also bringing back Cinekink in its fourth year. That was a series that originated in New York?

Shepard: Yes. I had been looking at what they'd been doing for years and I thought, "San Francisco is a natural place for this." Kind of a needed film thing here in some ways. We worked with them to bring a version of it to San Francisco.

Guillén: As we were discussing earlier about mixing "high" and "low" art, I equally admire that you're bringing fringe cultures into a mainstream art space. Don't let YBCA be just for the snobs!

Shepard: That's a lot of what I do: challenging the idea of an art center and what's appropriate to show in the screening room.

Guillén: YBCA seems to have an overall philosophy that veers in that way. They tend to exhibit edgy installation work, performance pieces, musical performances. Almost everything they bring in is a little edgy.

Shepard: That's true. It is. So I'm always aware of that. I'm aware that some people would think, "Oh, a place like that will just show art films." So I'm always mixing that up.

Guillén: One issue that's become a bit controversial in the Bay Area, if not throughout the culture, is digital projection. My understanding is that—if you can—you always elect to show celluloid and not replace it with digital and—if you do screen in digital—you always inform your audiences.

Shepard: Yeah. We have a great digital projection system; but, I won't show something on digital if that's not its intended exhibition format. The only time we've done that is if there's been a shipping mistake. I consider, "Should we cancel the screening or show a DVD?"

Guillén: Kudos to you and YBCA for that policy. I don't mean to single anyone out, but, recently during the SFMoma screenings, they showed The Good, The Bad and The Ugly projected off of DVD. For me, that's unacceptable, especially if the audience isn't advised ahead of time and is assuming they're paying to watch a 35mm projection. It generates bad feeling and is, in effect, false advertising. One of the few times, if not the only time, that I came to YBCA expecting to see a film on 35mm and saw it digitally projected instead was the State of the World omnibus; however, YBCA posted a large sign at the base of the stairs advising that this was being done. It gave me the opportunity as a customer to decide whether or not I wanted to slap money down for a ticket. I become infuriated when I buy my ticket, come into the theater, and only afterwards discover the film will be projected on DVD. That's just not fair.

Shepard: You can't do that. Digital projection is for digitally-produced pieces that are intended to be distributed that way. Everything's leaning more that way; but, a lot of people don't understand that we have to keep both of the formats alive. Just because we have this newer digital technology doesn't mean we should do away with film. I love these new technologies but you can't forget about film. You can't just throw it out.

Guillén: I agree 100%. I'm of the opinion that seeing films projected in celluloid is going to go the way of the higher arts like the symphony or opera. In the future I think you're going to have to pay good money to see a film projected on celluloid, as it was intended. I could see such programming happening at YBCA and—hopefully—SFMoma, if they'd stop being so lazy.

Shepard: Projecting celluloid digitally cheapens the whole moviegoing experience. You can do that at home.

Guillén: Exactly. The Michael Haneke made-for-television films; what's going on there?

Shepard: That's how Haneke started out. Seventh Continent was his first theatrically-released film, but before that he made a lot of television films—10 of them or something like that—and they're just as ruthless as his theatrical films. But they've not been seen outside of Austria and Germany. So we put together a program of four of those made for television films. We could have done more but we chose the best four and condensed the program down. These are very special films. This is another instance where you're not going to see these films anywhere else. We've been working with the Goethe Institute—not the one in San Francisco but the one in Boston—to bring these films.

Guillén: Which leads me to ask: as film audiences are maturing and being educated by what's being made available in film culture, vintage television is becoming more and more attractive not only for their nostalgic entertainment value but for the historical comment on the development of our culture. Do you see the possibility of doing more programming of television product?

Shepard: I would like to, yeah.

Guillén: For example, I've been catching episodes of The Big Valley on the Encore Western Channel and they've been thoroughly entertaining me, not the least of which for having the opportunity to watch these actors at the beginning of their careers. You see them testing their chops in admittedly formulaic scripts and I find it fascinating.

Shepard: There's a whole world there to discover. A lot of that material, however, is very tricky because of the rights issues. The rights were made for television and so to show things in theaters, the rights aren't structured that way so a lot of times they're not allowed. They're only for broadcast. There's also a whole world of crazy made-for-TV movies that's a territory to be discovered. Access is really tough for that stuff. Another issue is that it's hard to get good prints. There's all kinds of stuff from the past that I would love to show but you can't get good prints because there's no economic incentive anymore for these companies to conserve these prints.

Guillén: You've talked about the detective work you do to put together your programs. Are there magazines or resources that advise curators and programmers what's available for exhibition that you review to know where the prints are? How do you find the prints and how do you determine what condition they're in?

Shepard: There's no central resource. There's a good Yahoo programmers group where we share information but even that's pretty limited.

Guillén: So you're saying it's pretty much word-of-mouth?

Shepard: Yeah. And over the years, over time, you develop your network. I'm pretty tied into a network of film collectors, archivists, people like that. That's something I'm actually pretty good at. That's part of the detective work I was talking about. I find things that nobody thought were available. You just keep at it.

Guillén: Thank you for those excavations. That's one of the reasons I feel so blessed here in the Bay Area. Your work at YBCA, Jesse Hawthorne Ficks' work for Midnights for Maniacs, Marc Huestis's stage extravaganzas, Stephen Parr's eclectic programs at Oddball Cinema, they all provide a rich tapesty of effort and outcome. Just the facility you guys have to locate prints!

Shepard: Every two years YBCA does a "Bay Area Now" exhibition that highlights the brightest Bay Area artists of the moment. It's a big deal. It's YBCA's most popular exhibition and I always do a film program. This year I decided—instead of having filmmakers—to do a showcase of film programmers because in some ways I think there's more interesting work going on with programmers. Jesse's going to do a show. Peaches Christ is going to do a show. A number of other programmers will be involved.

Guillén: That's great! I've long thought public programming can be an art form. And yet I know that one of the objectives of The Evening Class was to profile programmers because I feel they all too often are invisible people whose true work isn't acknowledged. It's been fascinating for me these last few years to talk to most of the programmers in the Bay Area to see how they go about creating their programs and—by extension—the sociality of film culture that I ardently believe in. We are a mediated culture and it behooves us to understand how we've been mediated.

Monday, April 14, 2008

IN ROTATION: Waxy

My thanks to Dave Hudson and The Greencine Daily for turning me on to Waxy, where—along with Dave's notice of Martijn Hendriks' Give Us Today Our Daily Terror; a copy of Hitchcock's 1963 The Birds without the birds—I've discovered the following treasures:

The atmospheric video of Arcade Fire's Black Mirror directed by Olivier Groulx and Tracy Maurice; photographed by Jean-François Lord.

The cast of "Spongebob Squarepants" lend their voices to classics from Hollywood's Golden Age of Internet lip-dubbing, including Casablanca and The Godfather.

Gjon Mili's 1944 Jammin' the Blues with flawless musical performances by Lester Young, among others.

Jason Reitman's afterlife short In God We Trust available at /Film.

Martin Hampton's film Possessed (on the hazards of hoarding).

The alternate ending of I Am Legend.

The cultural history of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah."

Mike Polk's I Guess You'll Do.

Miranda July's demonstration of how difficult it is to make buttons.

Porn for the blind

MOVIESCOPE—Vol. 2, Issue 1

My collaboration with the British magazine movieScope continues as it launches into its second year. Editor Eric Lilleør accepted my interview with The Band's Visit director Eran Kolirin for the current issue. Canadian and American distribution of movieScope will go into effect in the near future. Until then, subscriptions are encouraged.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

SFIFF51—South American Cinema

With two films from Argentina, two from Brazil, one from Chile, and a short from Colombia, the sampling of South American cinema in this year's SFIFF line-up is considerably less ample than in past years. Notwithstanding, the sextet warrants mention.

Brazil wins out with Philippe Barcinksi's impressive debut feature
Não Por Acaso (Not By Chance, 2007), wherein a tenuous balance between risk and control is played out in the lives of two domineering men who suffer unavoidable and comparable loss. Uruguayan author Eduardo Galeano has written that in the automotive age the term "accident" is a misleading misnomer and should more appropriately be termed "consequence"; a theme Not By Chance suggests when—as Joni Mitchell sings—"change comes at you like a broadside accident." Though change might be more the consequence of life, some changes (as the film's title attests) are not by chance and only by surrendering to serendipity can one risk the insecure hazard of love.

Bound by hold review policy, I can't say much more; but,
Variety has given Robert Koehler considerable more leeway. He recognizes the film's ambitious promise even as he acknowledges some first film fumbles that Barcinksi commendably overcomes.

Seemingly more quiet but no less absorbing is Sandra Kogut's first narrative feature Mutum, a heart-hewn portrait of Thiago, an introverted 10-year-old boy (Thiago Da Silva Mariz) growing up in Brazil's sertão. "Mutum" means "mute" and likewise refers to a black bird that sings at night, which is exactly when Thiago opens up and voices his fearful concerns to his brother Felipe (Wallison Felipe Leal Barroso) as they lie in their beds before sleep. During the day Thiago's childhood is characterized by its limited vision and comprehension of the world of adults, whose rules appear capricious and self-serving. This is the noteworthy achievement of Kogut's film; she captures the child's gaze in its vulnerable and wide-eyed myopia. As Kogut explains, "Myopia corresponds to a manner of situating oneself in the world that is specific to childhood. When one is Thiago's age, the world of adults seems hazy—one feels emotions and sensations but can't put a name to them." Kogut enforces this feeling of sensate comprehension with an amplified soundscape of the sertão, which frequently leans into the alarming, all the more so for being heard and not seen.

Though Thiago adores his mother and siblings, and bestows his affection on his dogs and parrots, he is mistreated by his stern father ("Pai"), played by Evening Class favorite João Miguel (Cinema, Aspirin & Vultures, Suely in the Sky). Pai—who believes God is closing all doors to him that lead to the future—reads Thiago's quiet nature as unvoiced contempt and punishes him accordingly, both verbally and physically. Thiago bears his father's frustrated vengeance on his shoulders, much like the actor Thiago bears the bulk of the film on his pitch-perfect heartbreaking performance. Thiago's final survey of childhood's realm is poignant and powerful. As Kogut further explains, "Thiago only actually sees the reality of [the] place that he lives in at the moment when he must leave it. All of sudden, everything falls into place. That's what the film is about." The film's simple narrative belies its complex emotional depth.

Chile scores high as well with the compelling documentary
The Judge and the General by Elizabeth Farnsworth and Patricio Lanfranco, which sees its world premiere at SFIFF51. Primarily a document of the course of conscience undertaken by Chilean judge Juan Guzmán when—in random rotation—he's assigned the first criminal cases against Chile's ex-dictator General Augusto Pinochet, the film maneuvers Guzmán away from his initial ivory tower support of Pinochet through a gradual awakening of the atrocities committed against the Chilean people, and his judicial responsibility to redress same.


Errol Morris' Standard Operating Procedure could take some notes here on how human rights violations can be depicted on their own terms without sensationalized reenactments. The horrid facts speak for themselves without exploitive aggrandizement. The Judge and the General is likewise inspiring for reminding that remedy can be fought for and won, no matter how belatedly. It holds equal interest as we approach the 40th anniversary of the May 1968 "revolution", whose arc of cultural influence many feel ended with the coup d'état death of Salvador Allende. As Acquarello has observed elsewhere: "[T]he collapse of the Allende government was really the nail in the coffin of a kind of 'palatable' socialist movement that the public could embrace."

From Argentina comes Fernando "Pino" Solanas'
Latent Argentina, the third entry in his proposed tetralogy on what Evening Class cohort Michael Hawley calls "the maddening economic realities of that country." I interviewed Solanas when he brought Dignity of the Nobodies to SFIFF49. Where Dignity of the Nobodies focused on the plight of the victimized—with generous heart I might add—Solanas's most recent documentary Latent Argentina is considerably drier. Latent Argentina serves more as an intended rallying cry for its domestic audience to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, which Solanas assures them they can do, citing all the industrial resources they have at their disposal, and an ongoing historical tradition of ingenuity and perseverance. In other words, Solanas continues his commendable task of rescuing memory from oblivion. For American audiences, however, it might prove more an exercise in requisite solidarity than compelling viewing (though I admit to feeling guilty about saying that, especially since in our conversation Solanas mentioned that most Americans don't know what's going on with Argentina, don't recognize the accomplishments that are being made, and seem essentially disinterested).

Ana Katz's Una Novia Errante (A Stray Girlfriend, 2007) arrives as a festival darling, having won the Films In Progress Award at the San Sebastián Film Festival; Best Actress and Best Film at the Lima Latin American Film Festival; the FIPRESCI prize at the Havana Film Festival; a nomination for Best Picture at the Cartagena Film Festival; and a nomination for the Silver Condor at the Argentinean Film Critics Association Awards. Likewise selected as part of the 2007 Cannes Un Certain Regard section, I nonetheless found my appreciation for this film—admittedly competent by half—dampened by its neurotic protagonist, which I must begrudgingly admit attests to the merit of Katz's performance.

Inés (Katz) and her fiancé are on their way to spend a holiday at the off season Mar de las Pampas. On the bus while he's trying to sleep, she's badgering him about why he won't communicate with her. When she gets off the bus with her luggage, she's startled to watch the bus take off with her fiancé still on board. Quite frankly, I would have done the same in his shoes. Basta, as they say.


Weepy Inés proceeds to phone her now-ex-fiancé at all hours of the night, spitefully erasing messages on his answering machine, deleting emails, and selfishly deflecting and downright disrespecting the tolerant and patient efforts of the employees and full year residents of Mar de las Pampas to comfort her abandonment. It's hard to gain empathy for her when she acts so heedlessly. Though she accuses her ex-fiancé of being cruel and cowardly, he doesn't stick around long enough for us to determine if her accusations are founded or simply further self-denials. A Stray Girlfriend is a respectable study of a woman in crisis but left me quite cold towards its protagonist.

Last but not least is Amanda Micheli's Oscar-nominated Sundance favorite
La Corona, which The Evening Class covered at its previous Doc Film Institute Sundance Kabuki screening, and which is part of SFIFF51's "Feminine Mystique" shorts program.

Cross-published on
Twitch.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

SFIFF51—Still Life (Sanxia haoren) In 75 "Words" Or Less

What is that strange structure in Jia Zheng-ke's Still Life (2006)? I won't tell. Besides, I don't have enough word count to get into it. Despite the fact that Still Life has been on the circuit for nearly two years, it's tethered to a 75 words or less hold review for SFIFF51 press; the rationale being that it hasn't opened theatrically in San Francisco yet.

Okay….

Ever respectful of such tethers, I offer my write-up on Still Life in 75 "words" or less:

Acquarello
An, Tony
Anderson, Jason
Bradshaw, Peter
Braun, Liz
Brussat, Frederic & Maryann
Cabin, Chris
Campbell, Zach
Croce, Fernando
Daniel, Rob
Dargis, Manohla
Dawson, Thomas
Denby, David
Elley, Derek
Erickson, Steve
Fox, Ken
Goldsmith, Leo
Hoberman, J.
Hoover, Travis McKenzie
Kasman, Daniel
Kaufman, Anthony
Koresky, Michael
Kraicer, Shelly
Lim, Dennis
Nelson, Dustin
O'Hehir, Andrew
Parks, J. Robert
Peary, Gerald
Rapold, Nicolas
Rayns, Tony
Riviera, Matt
Rizov, Vadim
Rosenbaum, Jonathan
Sallitt, Dan
Shambu, Girish
Strong, Benjamin
Tsai, Martin

Phew! I'd best stop before I go over the limit. As a pertinent aside, however, Joel Shepard—who wrote the capsule for the SFIFF51 program—has advised that he's bringing Jia Zheng-ke's related documentary Dong (2006), as well as his most recent film Wuyong (Useless, 2007) to the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts June 26-29, 2008. Finally, San Franciscans will be caught up!

SFIFF51—Michael Hawley Previews The Lineup

Citing last year's 50th anniversary festival as a "fantastic benchmark" and "a gateway to a brighter future," SF Film Society Executive Director Graham Legatt and his programming team revealed this year's equally impressive line-up at a press conference last week. In a recent Evening Class write-up, I summarized all the special events that had been announced prior to the press conference, to which we can now add the following:

* Errol Morris will receive this year's Persistence of Vision Award, with an on-stage interview and a screening of his latest work, Standard Operating Procedure.

* The Maurice Kanbar Award for screenwriting will go to Robert Towne, who will be interviewed on stage by Eddie Muller prior to a screening of Shampoo.

* This year's State of Cinema Address will be given by Kevin Kelly, founding executive editor of Wired magazine and former editor/publisher of the Whole Earth Catalog.

* Rose McGowen and Jason Lee are to be the recipients of this year's (2nd annual) Midnight Awards, presented to an actor and actress "entering the prime of their careers."

That same pre-press conference write-up contained the Cinema by the Bay and Castro Theater roster of films. We now know what the other 80-plus programs worth of narrative and documentary features will be, and it's quite something—full of movies I'd been hoping the festival would bring our way. I've had a week to digest the line-up and now offer this overview of what I personally find exciting about SFIFF51.

I'll begin, as I'm wont to do, by looking at the French selections. Here in the Bay Area, where we have film festivals exclusively dedicated to German, Italian, Latino, South Asian, Irish, Arab and Armenian cinema (to name a few), it baffles me why there isn't one exclusively dedicated to new French films. By default, the SFIFF is our Rendez-Vous with French Cinema and City of Lights/City of Angels. This year they came through with the three films at the top of my French wish list, Catherine Breillat's opening nighter The Last Mistress, Claude Chabrol's A Girl Cut in Two and Abdellatif Kechiche's The Secret of the Grain. The latter swept this year's César Awards, winning Best Film, Director, Original Screenplay and Most Promising Actress. (Back in 2004, SFIFF was one of the first festivals to show Kechiche's L’esquive (aka Games of Love and Chance), which also went on to win four César Awards and was my favorite film of that year). I'm also pretty excited about Céline Sciamma's Cannes-fave Water Lilies, set in the world of adolescent synchronized swimming, and I'm always happy to have a look at any new Eric Rohmer concoction (The Romance of Astrea and Celadon). The inclusion of Marseilles auteur Robert Guédiguian's Lady Jane is a surprise, given that it just premiered in Berlin, and unfortunately, received mostly unkind reviews. But I'm enough of a fan of both the director (The Town is Quiet, The Last Mitterrand) and his actress-wife Ariane Ascaride, to make this film a personal must-see. Rounding out the French selection are Serge Bozon's La France (which I saw at Palm Springs) and Mia Hansen-Løve's All is Forgiven, about which I know nothing except that Cahiers du Cinema named it best film of the year—testimonial enough for me. As far as the films that didn't make it into the festival (Jalil Lespert's 24 Measures, François Ozon's Angel, Gäel Morel's Après lui, Jacques Nolot's Before I Forget, Claude LeLouch's Roman de Gare, Michelange Quay's Eat, For This is My Body, Erick Zonca's Julia, Cedric Klapisch's Paris, Claude Miller's Un secret, Christophe Honoré's Love Songs), I'll just have to hope I cross paths with them somewhere else down the line.

From elsewhere in Europe, I would direct everyone's attention to Jaime Rosales' Solitary Fragments, one of my two favorite films from this year's Palm Springs festival. At the recent Goya Awards, Rosales' stunning, intimate family drama mopped the floor with blockbuster The Orphanage, winning Best Film, Best Director and Best New Actor. I can't recommend it highly enough.

Although not a European film per se, Abel Ferrara's Go Go Tales is an Italian/French co-production that was filmed in Rome's Cinecittà studios. I've been salivating over this NYC strip club comedy ever since Asia Argento's Rottweiler kiss sent tongues wagging at Cannes. Toss in a supporting role by rarely-seen-these-days Sylvia Miles and boy, am I ever there. In addition to Go Go Tales (and The Last Mistress), Argento also stars in her daddy Dario's latest horror film, The Mother of Tears. Both of these are part of the festival's The Late Show series, along with Hitoshi Matsumoto's Big Man Japan and Nacho Vigalondo's Timecrimes. Finally, Italian master Ermanno Olmi's latest, One Hundred Nails screens at this year's festival. To the best of my knowledge, this is the first time a new Olmi film has been shown in the Bay Area since his 1978 art-house hit, The Tree of Wooden Clogs. I won't miss it if I can help it.

From Eastern Europe come two films that were high atop my festival wish list, Bela Tarr's The Man From London and Alexandr Sokurov's Alexandra. SFIFF has been a steadfast supporter of both directors over the years, and it's reassuring to see this tradition continued. From veteran Russian director Sergei Bodrov comes Mongol, a sprawling Genghis Khan epic starring Japanese actor Tadanobu Asano. I've read good things about Vera Storozheva's Traveling With Pets, which won the top prize at last year's Moscow Film Festival. Lastly, I'm looking forward to Czech virtuoso Jirí Menzel's I Served the King of England. This was one of the very few Best Foreign Language Oscar submissions that did not appear at Palm Springs this year.

Two other European films of possible interest are Just Like Home, which is the latest from Danish director Lone Scherflg (Italian For Beginners, Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself), and Valse Sentimentale, from Greek director Constantina Voulgaris. The latter, like eight other titles in the festival, was recently shown in NYC as part of the MOMA's New Directors/New Films series. Nick Schager's blistering review of the film at Slant has me convinced this is something I've got to see.

There's not a lot in the way of African narrative features in this year's festival—Maghrebi or sub-Saharan—but I'm very excited about two that are. The first is renowned Egyptian director Yousry Nasrallah's The Aquarium, which I'm impressed the festival has snagged so soon after its Berlin premiere (the film only opened in Egypt two weeks ago). The other is Ezra, Newton I. Aduaka's tale of an African child-soldier which won the Grand Prize at last year's FESPACO (Africa's main film festival). I might also want to take a look at French-Algerian director Philippe Faucon's Two Ladies. The director's two previous films, Samia (which I liked) and The Betrayal (which I didn't), were shown at the festival in 2001 and 2006 respectively.

The Asian line-up is a complete mystery to me, with the exception of two films. Twenty long months after winning the Golden Lion at Venice in 2006, local audiences will finally have the chance to see Jia Zheng-ke's Still Life. I recently saw it on DVD and it's stunning—can't wait to see it on a big screen. The other Asian film I'm anticipating is Aditya Assarat's Wonderful Town, a melancholy romance set in a Thai seaside town affected by the 2004 tsunami. The film won the Tiger Award at Rotterdam earlier this year.

Festival Director Legatt admitted that Latin America is underrepresented in the festival—his programmers having perceived it an off year for the region. Try telling that to Mexico, which is experiencing somewhat of a cinematic renacimiento. There are four recent Mexican films I've been anxious to see, and the festival's got three of them. Alex Rivera's neo-sci-fi take on globalization, Sleep Dealer, recently won several prizes at Sundance and Berlin. La Zona, Rodrigo Plá's tale of vigilante justice in a wealthy Mexico City gated community, took the FIPRESCI prize at last year's Toronto Film Festival. Winning the Discovery Award at Toronto was Israel Cárdenas and Laura Amelia Guzmán's Cochochi, which Michael Guillén enthusiastically wrote up here. (The fourth, missing film would be Lake Tahoe, Fernando Eimbcke's follow up to Duck Season.)

I've yet to take a close look at the festival's dizzying line-up of documentaries because frankly, I'm feeling somewhat docked-out these days. But a casual glance through the program turns up three of immediate interest, all of which come from or relate to Latin America. Latent Argentina is Fernando E. Solanas' (The Dignity of the Nobodies) latest look at the maddening economic realities of that country. Theodore Thomas' Walt & El Grupo remembers a goodwill/research trip to South America taken by Walt Disney and several of his artists in 1941. Gonzalo Arijon's Stranded: I've Come From a Plane That Crashed in the Mountains recounts in interviews and recreated footage the tale of how 16 Uruguayan rugby players survived a 1972 Andean plane crash. (I watched Stranded on screener this weekend and I think it's probably one of the best documentary films I've ever seen. More later).

Finally, from north of the border comes a trio of films I'm keen on seeing. Lance Hammer's rural Mississippi-set Ballast has been compared to the work of Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne, and won Best Director and Best Cinematography prizes at Sundance. The Toe Tactic is the animated/live action feature debut of Emily Hubley, daughter of illustrious film animator Faith Hubley and sister of Yo La Tengo singer/drummer Georgia Hubley (who provides the film's music). Last, but certainly not least, is Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg. The SFIFF is getting to be a habit for Maddin, who received the festival's Persistence of Vision Award is 2006 and then presented Brand Upon the Brain! with live narration and on-stage foley effects in 2007. It is expected that Maddin will be here to present My Winnipeg, but he will not be narrating it live as he did last year in Toronto.

So there it all is … nearly three dozen films in which I have a strong interest. I'm happy to say that between press screenings, DVD screeners and the 24 programs I've purchased tickets for, I'll be seeing them all but one (Craig Baldwin's Mock Up On Mu ... I hope to see you at the San Francisco Cinematheque or Pacific Film Archive some day). Of course for every one of these films, there are one or two more on my radar that didn't make it into the festival, for whatever reason. I should probably be thankful they didn't. Hopefully many will turn up in theatrical release, at some other festival or at an alternative venue such as the always surprising Yerba Buena Center for the Arts.

Which brings me to the exciting announcement that was made by Legatt at the festival press conference. Starting June 13, the Film Society is completely taking over one of the screens at the Sundance Kabuki Cinemas. Dubbed the SFFS Screen, it will feature daily showings of foreign, independent and documentary feature films with limited distribution. The plan is to start out with one or two week runs of single films, or split runs. Then in the fall they hope to start programming themed series, such as surveys of national cinemas and retrospectives. This is truly great news. Bravo to the SFFS for its efforts to make the festival experience last year long.

Cross-published on Twitch.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

PFA: HEINZ EMIGHOLZ—Architecture As Autobiography

"Architecture projects space into this world. Cinematography translates that space into pictures projected in time. Cinema then is used in a completely new way: as a space to meditate on buildings."—Heinz Emigholz

I thought I was going to have my work cut out for me when I decided to preview the Pacific Film Archive's Heinz Emigholz retrospective—"Architecture As Autobiography"—which broke ground with the April 1st screening of his "salvaging study" Goff In the Desert (2002-2003), and continues through April 17 with screenings of Schindler's Houses (2007), Sullivan's Banks (1993-2000), Maillart's Bridges (2001) and his latest Loos Ornamental (2006-2007). Emigholz is scheduled to attend all upcoming screenings.

Making my self-appointed assignment much easier is the fact that the retrospective is currently in progress—in an enviably expanded itinerary—at multiple venues in Los Angeles, with thorough previews already in place by the likes of Doug Cummings for Film Journey, Scott Foundas for the L.A. Weekly, and Shana Ting Lipton for the Los Angeles Times. Here in the Bay Area, Maria Komodore (San Francisco Bay Guardian) and Max Goldberg (Flavorpill) have likewise already weighed in.

As PFA program curator Kathy Gertiz writes: Since 1984, German filmmaker Heinz Emigholz has been working on an acclaimed series, Photography and Beyond, which consists of formally rigorous, revelatory films that examine artistic creativity. Through his films focused on the work of architects, Emigholz states, he "looks at architectural spaces that I believe have been sorely neglected by 'architectural history.' " We present five of these salvaging studies. Three trace a history of direct influences: Rudolph M. Schindler (1887–1953) studied with Adolf Loos (1870–1933), who was influenced by Louis H. Sullivan (1856–1924). Emigholz's cinematic "archives" of these architects' existing buildings, with minimal commentary, provide a rare opportunity for careful contemplation and study of the space, light, and materials of architecture. "I believe that everyone perceives space differently and that art and structure arise out of the perception of these nuances," Emigholz says. "The world reveals itself to us, and we show each other the world—not just different facets, but our different views. During peacetime, this is an endless process that deserves to be loved."

Emigholz might as well have been quoting Louis Sullivan who wrote in his 1906 essay What Is Architecture: "In everything that men do they leave an indelible imprint of their minds. If this suggestion be followed out, it will become surprisingly clear how each and every building reveals itself naked to the eye; how its every aspect, to the smallest detail, to the lightest move of the hand, reveals the workings of the mind of the man who made it, and who is responsible to us for it." Elsewhere, in his wry critique of King Vidor's The Fountainhead for Cinema Scope, Emigholz does quote Sullivan: "It is the pervading law of all things organic, and inorganic, of all things physical and metaphysical, of all things human and all things superhuman, of all true manifestations of the head, of the heart, of the soul, that the life is recognizable in its expression, that form ever follows function."

Along with the opportune fortune of watching Emigholz's rarely-seen films, is the anticipated pleasure of hearing him speak. In his Cinema Scope essay, Emigholz amusingly details the conflict between "the arrogant European values" of Austrian rivals Josef von Sternberg and Richard Neutra on one hand and their "robust American theories about imagined spaces" on the other. The house that Neutra built for von Sternberg—"From the air, [it] looked rather like an aircraft carrier [that] later became a popular landmark for American Marine test pilots"—eventually sold to novelist Ayn Rand. In gist, this real estate transaction establishes the foundation for Emigholz's profile of Rand and his survey of King Vidor's 1949 cinematic adaptation of her bestselling novel The Fountainhead—"a thriller set in the world of architecture." If his Cinema Scope essay is any indication, Emigholz promises to be an intriguing and entertaining speaker.

Likewise, in his conversations with Siegfried Zielinski, Marc Ries, and Stefanie Schulte Strathaus, Emigholz reveals a remarkable, observant, nearly difficult intelligence whose perspective will clearly enrichen those willing to watch and listen. I'll be all eyes and ears. How about you?

Thursday, April 03, 2008

GIFF08—Sergio de la Mora's Festival Report, Part One

The Evening Class sent Sergio de la Mora to the Guadalajara Film Festival this year and our man-in-the-know has returned with his first report. Take it away, Sergio!

* * *

The 23rd edition of the Guadalajara International Film Festival closed March 14 after having screened 247 films from 38 countries across 9 days that were attended by an estimated 81,000 spectators. The festival's director, Jorge Sánchez Sosa, a veteran film producer (Danzón, Cronos, El evangelio de las maravillas [Divine]), affirms that it is now the most important film event in Iberoamerica. This opinion probably has much to do with the funding awarded to films in competition, totaling this year at $782,000, the well attended film market which this year offered 579 titles seeking distribution, the number of celebrities, international industry and film festival representatives, and journalists in attendance as well as the number of parallel events.

No doubt the overall quantity, quality and breath of films exhibited was among the festival's best. Especially exciting was the retrospective on Argentine cinema that in large part is due to the leadership and vision of programmer Lucy Virgen. However, the festival could use more programming focused on new cutting edge work in addition to honoring pioneers such as this year's focus on such luminaries as Argentine directors Fernando Birri and Fernando Solanas, the Mexican producer Bertha Navarro and classic period Mexican comedian Germán Valdes "Tin Tán."

If one were to judge the state of narrative Mexican cinema by the quality of the 12 films in competition this year, the scene would not be promising. Perhaps an omen of the less then vibrant Mexican film selection was the withdrawal of the incredibly prolific Julián Hernández's fourth feature Rabioso sol, rabioso cielo (Enraged Sun, Enraged Sky) because it was not completed on time but may well have been pulled in order to be considered for Cannes. I should know after so many visits to this festival that what gets shown in Guadalajara is not the best of new Mexican cinema but simply what is not committed to other festivals in early spring. This is a festival where independent films are often short changed while films co-produced by IMCINE, the government-funded film agency, are featured prominently. Oftentimes the most interesting work is made outside of official structures, in the independent sectors. Notable cases would be the films of Carlos Reygadas, Amat Escalante (Sangre [Blood] 2005), Rubén Imaz (La familia tortuga [The Turtle Family] 2006), Pedro Aguilera (La influencia [Influences] 2007), Alan Coton (Soba [Beaten] 2004), and Carlos Armella and Pedro González-Rubio (Toro negro [Black Bull] 2005).

The two outstanding films were Fernando Eimbcke's ¿Te acuerdas de Lake Tahoe? (Lake Tahoe) and Rodrigo Plá's Desierto adentro (The Desert Within). These two films were also awarded the major prizes, the first earning best director while the second swept best film, script, actor, actress, cinematography, and audience prize.

Desierto adentro, a gripping work about religious fanaticism patterned after the life of Soren Kierkegaard, is set during the 1926-1929 Cristero War, a backlash to the anti-clerical elements of the Mexican Revolution, which saw Catholics (mostly poor) taking arms in defense of the Church, its privileges and their beliefs. It may well be the best fiction film about this still controversial and tragic episode in Mexican history. Elías (Mario Zaragoza), a peasant, is convinced that since he contributed to the death of a priest and refused to fight against the government, his entire family will be punished. The curse begins with the death of his wife (Dolores Heredia) while given birth to their last child, Aureliano. After the war, he sets out with all his children to build a church in the middle of a desert-like region in order to honor God and wait for a sign from Him indicating forgiveness.



Desierto adentro uses a voice-over narration by the youngest child Aureliano, played by Diego Catano (a lead in both Temporada de patos and Lake Tahoe), who spends his childhood imprisoned in the family home because he is supposedly ill. This film is far superior to Plá's Venice International Film Festival winner La zona (The Zone, 2007) in terms of his capacity to sustain narrative suspense, create a vivid atmosphere, imagine a highly inventive use of animation in the form of retablos (religious folk portraits), and its critique of religious authoritarianism. (Plá filmed Desierto adentro before La zona but did not finish it until recently). Not since Arturo Ripstein's El castillo de la pureza (The Castle of Purity, 1972) has a Mexican film so effectively taken on the self-destruction of a family as a result of the patriarch's blind piety.

This year the Mexican narrative film competition was especially heavy with second features. Certainly, one of the most anticipated was Eimbcke's Lake Tahoe that premiered at this year at the Berlin International Film Festival where it was awarded two major prizes. To his credit Eimbcke lives up to the expectations of his debut feature, Temporada de patos. Like the latter, Lake Tahoe is a minimalist deadpan comedy in terms of narrative scope and aesthetics. On the outskirts of a quiet city on the Yucatán Peninsula, the teenage Juan (played by Diego Cataño) crashes his car into a telegraph pole on an empty street and spends the majority of the film looking for the necessary spare part. In the process he meets a number of eccentric characters, all spare parts workers including a distrustful and grumpy old man, don Heber (Héctor Herrera) and his dog Sica; Lucía (Daniela Valentine), a spunky and young punk rock single mother who chain smokes and is smitten by Juan; as well as David (Juan Carlos Lara), a skinny youth into martial arts philosophy and a Bruce Lee fanatic.

Halfway through the film, we find out about the recent death of Juan's father, so it's no wonder that Juan spends a good deal of the film running around in an attempt to evade this loss and flee from the desolation of his home where his mother has locked herself in the bathroom to cry and smoke and his younger brother prefers to camp out in tent in the front yard rather than stay in the house. Alexis Sabé's color cinematography, predominantly long stationary shots with wide angle lens, and black screen dividers eloquently illustrate a narrative that is spare in dialogue. The long widescreen shots emphasize Juan's sadness, vulnerability and his being lost. The film is genuinely engaging, the characters are ingratiating and memorable. A story told through images, Eimbcke is triumphantly successful in creating "pure cinema," as he intended. Both Lake Tahoe and Desierto adentro are intensely personal, auteur films that represent among the most vibrant tendencies within Mexican cinema.

* * *

For alternate coverage from GIFF08, I highly recommend GIFF's YouTube CineFEST coverage and Robert Koehler's first and second dispatches to Film Journey.

Cross-published on Twitch.

THE GREENCINE INTERVIEW WITH PEDRO COSTA

My interview with Pedro Costa is up at Greencine's main site, where Dave Hudson has graciously excused the fact that neither Pedro nor I "are in any rush to move on from one topic to the next."

Cross-published on Twitch.

04/06/08 UPDATE: If you're not already a subscriber to the Canadian publication Cinema Scope, now might be the time to consider becoming one. Commencing with their Summer 2008 issue, Cinema Scope subscribers will be receiving free DVDs courtesy of Filmswelike. The first DVD in this special Cinema Scope Presents series, featuring extra features developed in partnership with Cinema Scope, will be Pedro Costa’s Colossal Youth.