PFF33 Day Eleven: Baseball and Stolen Artifacts Close Out A Great Fest

Plus: the 10 Best Films seen.

My viewing habits finally caught up with me, as did the looming specter of joblessness. As I’ve mentioned before, in the past I’d usually become rundown by this point, powered as I was by caffeine and black-and-white cookies before the ownership changed. I think part of it was the nature of the scheduling as well: given how long a lot of the films were this year, there’s not a whole lot of time left, which in turn limits what’s programmed. Even if I hadn’t been able to do another 5-film-day, I still ended with a couple decent to pretty good films.

Eephus. Credit: Music Box Films

Starting off with the good was Carson Lund’s Eephus (Grade: A-). I probably wouldn’t have seen it if one-time editor Vikram Murthi hadn’t praised it on Twitter; sports are not really my thing, and I only really started watching them at all once I realized I could see them in the gay bar (because, you know… Men™). Turns out you don’t really need to know much of anything about baseball. The mechanics of the game aren’t as important as the fact that it gives the men an excuse to gather and memorialize their preferred field before a school is built on it. Lund is best known as a cinematographer, most notably with No-Budge stalwart Tyler Taormina. He caries the same sort of relaxed, slightly deadpan energy one associates with such films.

Which isn’t to say it isn’t screamingly funny, ie a man hitting a pitch and then immediately faceplanting on the ground. Much of that humor comes through in the banter and background dialogue as the men razz each other, complain about the drive to Duster’s Field, and overall mourn the passing of time. As the game stretches on, you get the sense that none of them really want to stop playing, if only because that means the friendship gets dissolved. Truth be told, you also start to feel the length of the game as it goes on. Lund keeps it easy-going, cutting between people around the ballpark and the players in free-flowing plot, so when actual tension starts to rise up it harshes the mellow a bit. What remains is the pleasure of seeing these men interact with each other, their good-nature camraderie, the sheer love of the game even if they aren’t very good at it. Like the pitch that gives the film its title, time seems to be suspended for a bit before it starts up again. And hey, like a wiseman once said: everything dies baby, that’s a fact. But maybe everything that dies, some day comes back.

Dahomey. Credit: MUBI

“Things coming back” is the ostensible subject of the last movie I saw at the Festival, Mati Diop’s Berlin-winning documentary Dahomey (Grade: B-). The name refers to the African kingdom – now the Republic of Benin – that has recently repatriated 26 artifacts taken during French colonial rule. Part of the documentary is a fictionalized narration of the objects themselves, telling the story of their theft and return. The other half revolves around a debate with university students, in which they discuss the fact that 7,000 objects reside in the Paris museum, and they’ve only gotten this many back through years of diplomacy.

I saw Diop’s first film – Atlantics – back at the 29th Fest when I was in college; I think it closed my festival experience then too. Maybe I need to stop doing that, because much like that one, this just kind of washed over me. It’s not without its pleasures (the music, from Wally Badarou and Dean Blunt, for instance), and Diop does have talent. But I would’ve preferred the narration for every object, or at least a greater focus on their travel from France to Benin. As enlightening and lively as the university discussion is, it takes up quite a bit of a 67-minute movie. I could feel myself getting on the wavelength for it before it dissipated. Perhaps more exposure to this type of thing is needed.

And with that, the 33rd Philadelphia Film Festival has come to a close. By my count, I saw the most I’ve ever seen at one of these, at 38. Having an entire week off will do that to you. I can’t forget my badge situation as well though; not having to pay for Centerpiece tickets meant that I took a lot more chances on entires I would have otherwise ignored. This year still felt strange to me, in that the schedule somehow felt lighter than it had in years past. Not sure if that’s because there were more films here, longer runtimes, less from the vaults, however you wanna play it. Hard to remember how you felt or what you were doing 2 years ago, after all.

What I can confirm is what many of the programming staff said about this being the best one yet. By quality alone, I saw some truly stellar productions, most of my most anticipated films living up to the lofty festival hype. The biggest regret is that I had to miss The Seed of The Sacred Fig, and am now at the mercy of NEON to play it in Philly; I also had to miss Sister Midnight, the last entry in the Focus On India section, so I hope that gets a release somewhere. As I tabulated the list, I found a lack of surprise. Most everything I loved was something I’d heard of before or had put on my watchlist ages ago. There was no Red Rooms, no Tremors, or Rose Plays Julie, ie something that came from out of nowhere to completely knock my socks off. I don’t know if that was just a testament to the year or my own evolving critical tastes (or at least an attempt to hold back on crowning something just as I come out of the theater). All that said, making a top 10 was somewhat difficult. Many of these will be strong Best of The Year contenders, if not this year than the next. There are still quite a few I saw at the full list, which you can check out at Letterboxd. With the caveat that these could shift on later viewings, here’s The 10 Best Films of the 33rd Philadelphia Film Festival:

  1. All We Imagine As Light
    Still currently my favorite thing I’ve seen all year. Payal Kapadia’s rapturous feature debut is the kind of movie you just want to sink into, absorb every sensual texture and image. She turns the landscapes of Mumbai into something like a dream and in the process enhances the loneliness present everywhere. At the risk of cliche, it’s pure poetic cinema.
    Opening 11/15 in NY and LA via Sideshow and Janus, expansion likely
  2. Nickel Boys
    Out of the story of two boys at a Florida Reform School, RaMell Ross crafts a stone cold stunner. More than anything, he crafts what it feels like to hold back memories, the associations one creates from disparate moments and references that bind themselves to your trauma. Evocative but not explicit, it’s a major accomplishment and a fine work of adaptation.
    Opening 12/13 in limited release via MGM and Amazon
  3. Flow
    Easily the best animated movie of the year on sheer visual spectacle. But it’s a triumph of visual storytelling, utilizing the full scope of body language and tone to give animals character without making them human. Makes you wish you could show it to every Hollywood studio and force them to be better.
    Opening 11/22 in limited release via Sideshow and Janus, 12/6 in wide release
  4. Anora
    The most borderline one, but the late act sells it for me. Whatever Sean Baker’s politics, there’s no denying he sees such a wide vein of empathy in his title character; all he’s ever wanted was for us to understand them, and he does through his typical mix of the profanely funny. Mikey Madison is going to change gay speech patterns for years to come. Just watch that trailer and try to say “a FRAUD marriage?!” any other way.
    Out now in limited release, expect an expansion
  5. No Other Land
    “Important” is the among the lowest forms of praise you can give a movie, but if anything deserves it, it’s this. Shamefully, there’s still no legal way to see it in the US, more than likely because it refuses to act as though people can’t come to conclusions for the things they see in front of their eyes. To quote the man outside my screening: “The people that need to see this won’t.” Upsetting, harrowing, yet undoubtedly the work of filmmakers wishing for the world to see the beauty of their humanity.
    No US distributor as of this writing.
  6. Dead Talent’s Society
    Sometimes, you just have a lot of fun with a movie. I’ll admit to being a little seal-like in my joy of seeing an extended Perfect Blue reference. It helps that the rest of the movie is committed to goofy, cartoony jokes and fairly clever in using scares as a metaphor for filmmaking. A little heart goes a long way.
    Current international plans unknown. Expect it to come over next year, if not on streaming
  7. The Brutalist
    Adrian Brody, Guy Pierce, and Felicity Jones turn in fantastic performances but the true star is Brady Corbet. He effortlessly corales power, the fantasy of America, Jewish alienation, the Holocaust, and so much more into a surprisingly brisk, There Will Be Blood style epic on one man’s quest to stake his name. The fact that a movie that looks as good as this – from the sets to the costumes, down to the camera movements and compositions – for $10 million is an indictment to every actor and producer working in Hollywood today. Utterly overwhelming, and yet intensely compelling.
    Opening 12/20 in limited release
  8. Birdeater
    Truth be told I’m a little nervous to revisit this, for fear the spell will be broken. I still don’t want to give too much away from this singularly demented creation, still the most insane thing I saw at this festival. Utilizing editing and framing almost as an attack, Jack Clark and Jim Weir plunge you deep into a singularly anxious mind and then constantly pull the rug out, veering from surreality to comedy back to relationship drama and horror. Maybe the substance isn’t quite there. I gotta hand it to them for making what feels like the most unstable movie I’ve ever seen (and I mean that entirely as a compliment).
    US release unknown. Out in Australia
  9. The Order
    It might boil down to standard “cops and robbers” but what well-wrought cops and robbers these are. For whatever lack of depth (and copaganda, if you feel it) may be present on the cop side, the robbers – in this case, white supremacist terrorists – get an utterly chilling treatment that their charisma can’t hide. As much as we tell ourselves it’s done, the words of Quiz Kid Donnie Smith ring-out over the climax of The Turner Diaries: “we may be through with the past, but the PAST ain’t through with us”.
    Opening 12/6 in limited release
  10. Night Call
    The more I’ve talked about it, the more I’ve come around to this taut thriller’s ending. Michiel Blanchart wrings every bit of tension he can from his setpieces, but notice the protagonist’s relationship with the BLM protestors. Uncommonly smart when it comes to its character’s actions, ultimately unsparing as the circle closes in around him. It might be the movie I’m most looking forward to revisiting, and I hope it captures more attention when it releases.
    No date set, acquired by Magnet Releasing, should be limited within the next year

PFF33 Day Six: A Cute Addition to Age Gap Cinema Leads Off A Grabbag

You know what they say about best laid plans.

Ok so I lied a little on the last one. Pedro got pushed to the next showing on Saturday because I didn’t want to have gap with another one today, and because I didn’t feel like seeing Vermiglio. As much as I do try to plan things out, scheduling is an ever-changing thing since I have no one but myself to be held accountable. I promise to do better, it will happen again.

Baby. Credit: Uncork’d

My first movie of the day was one I’d wavered a bit back and forth on. The thing about LGBT films is that – for obvious reasons dramatical, sociological, and historical – they can tend towards the bleaker side if they’re not diabetically saccharine or pitched at that one straight person trying way too hard. Seeing a log-line about a gay teen taking up sex work after a prison stint raises the warning signs of “coming out story” (overdone, boring) and worse “trauma dump” (lazy). Baby (Grade: B+) doesn’t entirely shy away from the dangers of sex work, and generally being gay in Brazil. Thankfully, this Brazillian drama from Marcelo Caetano is much more clear eyed and open to the nuances of gay life and sex work writ large.

The baby of the title is Wellington (JoĂŁo Pedro Mariano) a strikingly beautiful 18-year-old on the streets. A brief miscommunication in a porno theater leads him to Ronaldo (Ricardo Teodoro), a much older man working as an escort who decides to take him under his wing. It’s a sexually explicit kind of love affair in multiple senses and my what senses they are. Caetano depicts their relationship as something beautiful and yes, sexy, with dashes of a mentor-mentee power dynamic ever so precarious. I don’t know that it does anything particularly ground-breaking besides show a younger man in love with an older man that isn’t predatory (though some flashes of jealousy threaten to take it there) but I appreciate something so vibrant and almost cute. If nothing else, the men are very beautiful to look at. God Bless Brazil.

Men of War. Credit: NEON

While I find myself a little more on the forgiving side generally, I’ve started to consider something critic Mike D’Angelo (inspiration/rip-off source for this series structurally, if not occasionally stylistically) often cites of documentaries: could this film have been an article ? Men Of War (Grade: C+) is a perfect example of this to the point where I was surprised it had been picked up by NEON. Directors Billy Corben and Jen Gatien utilize the typical reenactments, stock footage, and talking head techniques to reconstruct the 2020 Venezuelan coup attempt. Their main subject and source is ex-Green Beret and mercenary leader Jordan Goudreau; he’s given quite a bit of screen time to argue that he was fully under the impression it was a US government sanctioned operation along with opposition leader Juan GuaidĂł.

I suppose the first problem comes there: he – and multiple Trump White House staff – refer to GuaidĂł as the legitimate ruler of Venezuela, and at least from context one would assume the directors do not – in fact – believe this, and that current president Nicholas Maduro is the rightful ruler. Almost zero context is given to the political situation in the country or even what interests the US might have in staging a coup beyond oil and money. It’s not even clear whether they believe Goudreau or think he’s some mixture of stupid and delusional. By the end they work their way towards pointing out how the government builds people into killing machines and then mostly sets them loose to fend for themselves. Don’t get me wrong, the way we treat veterans in this country is one of our many failings (and the bare minimum). But when the people you’re trying to rescue are in jail because they tried to overthrow the sovereign government of a foreign country, you’re going to have to work a lot harder to get me feeling sympathy for you and your own bad decisions. There’s a thread of the networks of power working overtime to help fascist interests here; the Behind The Bastards episode on Goudreau would be excellent.

Small Things Like These. Credit: Lionsgate

Small Things Like These (Grade: B-) covers the different and more upsetting strain of Behind The Bastards subject matter that is the Magdalene Laundries. To summarize: for nearly 2 centuries in Ireland, women and girls thought to be “fallen” or otherwise unsupported were sent to convents and workhouses where they suffered horrific abuse. I don’t know how the movie would play if you didn’t know that; to me, I saw a movie set in Ireland about secrets at a convent and immediately went there. It’s among the most infamous scandals of the Catholic Church in Ireland (though a quick Wikipedia scan tells me that there were some Protestant ones as well).

Perhaps it plays better for someone from there. I confess the whole thing sort of went over my head in rather abrupt fashion. Cillian Murphy – in his first role post Oppenheimer – plays coal worker Bill Furlong in New Ross, Ireland. You can tell he’s haunted by his general aire, and the way he scrubs his hands vigorously when he comes home (metaphor!). Ostensibly the plot unfolds when he discovers a woman in the convents shed during a delivery, furthered by the sinister behavior of the Mother Superior (Emily Watson). Interspersed are memories of his childhood with what I presume is his single mother. This is a movie in a lot of ways about national guilt; the way Bill’s wife seems to know bad things happen there, a girl fighting as she’s brought in the first time, the mentions of how much power the convent wields in town. All of this is primed for a truly excellent movie. And then I checked my phone thinking there was at least an hour left only to discover it was more like 7 minutes. I haven’t read the book by Claire Keegan so it’s possible this all plays better on the page, or that the third act was cut down significantly. It certainly has all the ingredients to be a solid drama; if only it drew the connections between the past and the present stronger.

Night Call. Credit: Magnet Releasing

I’ve mentioned it a bit before but as good as it is to catch movies months before they’re released, one of the best parts of a Film Festival are the hidden gems. I’d agonized for weeks over whether to pass over The Seed of the Sacred Fig – one of the most acclaimed films at Cannes – for one such film, ultimately deciding that since NEON was handling it I’d eventually see it in Philly at some point. My choice was for Night Call (Grade: B+), a lean and nasty Belgian thriller with impressive chops that for some reason I’d gone into thinking it was about a firefighter. Michiel Blanchart’s debut is an entry into the subgenre of “Person Has The Worst Night of Their Life”. That person is locksmith and student Mady (Jonathan Feltre), on call during a night when Black Lives Matter protests are roiling Brussels. A simple call for a woman named Claire (Natacha Krief) escalates into a fight that ends in a dead man and a mob boss on his tail.

Many such cases, but Blanchart proves an expert in orchestrating brutal action sequences and tense pacing. His script is also rather smart, keeping Mady constantly on his toes but active, dispensing easy ways out and even making great use of a sea of protestors and the tensions with police. For a while, I was thinking it was one of the best of the fest. The set pieces aren’t elaborate but they’re staged beautifully, always hinting at where it’s going to go, never making it too obvious. Unfortunately, Blanchart botches the landing in a way that ripples backwards. It’s not all that interested in politics – though it is keenly aware of how Mady being Black changes this situation for him, enough that Blanchart only has to cut to some distinct objects in an apartment to let us know Mady is about to be in deep shit. One might be able to argue to the ending on political grounds but it’s tricky given the optics at play. Still, man what a ride it is. Programming Director Trey Shields (shout-out) told us before that Blanchart is working on something with Sam Raimi (Evil Dead 2 even makes a cameo) and I think he could be going places. 80% out of 100 ain’t too bad after all.

Tomorrow: Bit of a lighter day for trivia league, but expect a creepy doll and Nigerian film.