The demands of the body clash with the demands of the mind.
I realized yesterday that because of the way scheduling has shaken out, I haven’t gotten to as many after hours showings as I normally would in years past. There haven’t really been a ton of surprises to be honest. Maybe it’s just because I’ve become more aware of what’s out there, maybe it’s because I’ve been actively trying to be somewhat more critical and honest. There’s still two days left for a surprise, and tomorrow at least has two of my most anticipated. Going to try to make this weekend a back-to-back fiver, scheduling permitting of course.
Labrador: Autopsy of Silence (Rodrigue Jean): B+
Direction is always compelling in its stillness even if some of the other elements can sometimes be a bit lacking. Namely the scrambling of the chronology, not in direct reverse chronological but going back and forth. Occasionally it can be a bit confusing; I spent a good portion thinking a “ghost” character was actually someone else real. The lead performers do possess great chemistry – even in the most prurient sense – and Jean manages to draw out some connections between the silence and how racism is structured in Canada. Given that it’s based apparently off a real incident I do wonder how much they’re actually allowed to dig in. I was never bored though, and the central mystery does resolve itself in a rather devastating way. Favorite image: the boat going through a blizzard that nearly whites out the screen.
Yellow Letters (İlker Çatak): C+
Of a piece with Fjord in Festival Prizewinners That Are Actually About “Europe” but in a fairly nonthreatening or self-satisfying way. Çatak goes as far as naming chapters “Berlin as Ankara” and “Hamburg as Istanbul” in case you missed the German language signs strewn about the Turkish buildings. As drama it’s not too shabby: political persecution is a hot topic and for a while it rides on the tension between political beliefs and having to live a life. Ultimately it ends up cheating a bit by making their ultimate crime speaking against the President – surely something people in Turkey have faced but what they find disagreeable isn’t ever clarified, and the numerous shots of walking through protests of basically every leftist cause while the main guy looks indifferent hammers home the vague sense of complicity and comfort (as one character tells them to their faces). Doesn’t help either that it tries to say that art can in fact change the world and comes up with something that seems real corny, even if it does argue in movie that it’s psuedo-feminist claptrap. Digger! Now more than ever! Never really thought the daughter was all that well utilized either, she ends up falling into a surly teen archetype who runs away and craves normality. Serviceable in its own ways, but I had an actual Onion Reaction when I checked the time and realized we had at least 30 minutes left to go. Josephine wuz robbed.
The Dreamed Adventure (Valeska Grisebach): B+/A-
Sometimes all you have to offer is “it was a vibe”. I was never bored on Grisebach’s journey through the Bulgarian/Turkish/Greek border, I really could’ve watched Said and Veska walking around archeological sites and talking with various people for a full 3 hours. There’s political subtext here with talk of the Mafia running Bulgaria, the lingering effects of communism, Veska herself digging underground and uncovering the past to walking around trying to uncover past relationships. I’m sure on a second viewing and reading more I’ll pick up on all of it. I guess the most surprising thing was that I didn’t find it frustrating at all. It’s chill to just hang out and watch people dance to “What Is Love?” as you try to suss out the hints of danger or marvel at how Bulgaria kind of looks like the South or Midwest. Call it the festival catching up to my abilities of analysis if you must. The power of cinema is how much draw there can be in a pretty image.
