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 Eight: Jude Law and Nicholas Hoult play Cops and Nazis in “The Order”

Plus a couple of the customary European imports

The Order. Credit: Vertical

Recently, I’ve been listening to a podcast called Weird Little Guys, a sister show of sorts to Behind The Bastards. Host Molly Conger follows a more scripted structure to the latter’s focus on “the worst people in history”, in the case focused on White Supremacists’ crimes and trials as well as their ideological background. As you can imagine it has been home to some extremely disturbing listening (particularly an episode focused on Terrorgram). What’s been most enlightening for me, however, has been how interconnected all of these people are, if not interpersonally than in the various elements that pop up. Things like William Luther Pierce’s racist novel/action plan The Turner Diaries, or Unite The Right.

All of this means I was probably primed more than most for The Order (Grade: A-), named after the Aryan Nation splinter group of the same name (as well as the organization featured in The Turner Diaries). The film mostly traces their series of bank robberies and bombings throughout the early 80s, culminating in the assassination of Jewish liberal radio host Alan Berg (Marc Maron). They’re lead by Bob Matthews, played by Nicholas Hoult with strong charisma, less a cult leader than a really effective one. He believes that the Aryan Nation – with its plan to get people in government and slowly enact their will – is too slow and all talk. He favors a more direct approach, one that catches the attention of Jude Law’s Terry Husk. What starts as a peculiar pattern of bombings at synagogues and porn stores reveals itself to be the first in what will eventually become an armed revolution if they let it get that far.

Justin Kurzel’s direction is assured without being too over-the-top, orchestrating a number of tense action sequences that call to mind crime movies of yore. Most important is how that interacts with Zach Baylin’s script (adapted from The Silent Brotherhood by Kevin Flynn and Gary Gerhardt); the most chilling moments come from how normal these White Supramcists act, reading to their kids at night or teaching them how to shoot. Baylin takes pains to explain the ideology behind it and how law enforcement often bungles these cases by not affording them the proper seriousness. This is a movie providing sharp thrills with perhaps a bit of thin characterization on the side of law enforcement. But it treats the Nazis as the serious, disturbing threat that they are, their normalcy only highlighting how they lurk in the shadows. Not for nothing, a major plot of The Turner Diaries involves the taking over of government buildings, including the Capitol. Sound familiar?

The other two movies I saw today have some familiarity with a lot of European films on the festival circuit, but they carve enough of their own path to stand out. Of the two, Peacock (Grade: B/B+) is a tad more successful, or at least paced better. Plot wise it may bring to mind Yorgos Lianthimos’ Alps, in this case focusing on a “rent-a-friend” service rather than dead loved ones to mourn. Chief among these is Matthias (Albrecht Schuch), the highest rated among the employees for his ability to effortlessly shift into any persona, whether it be a date to the symphony or a boyfriend for an apartment hunter. So good is he at his job that his girlfriend becomes frustrated at his lack of personality, sending him into an existential crisis. What follows is decently funny, occaisionally ominous, powered mainly by a great performance. It culminates in a similar version of the much feted performance art scene from The Square, suggesting it’s not quite as original as it may seem. Not sure I’m totally sold on the satirical value the more I think about it but it’s been a week so consider that me trying to reengage the critical faculties.

The New Year That Never Came. Credit: TVR

Finally, we have The New Year That Never Came (Grade: B-), a Romanian movie about that favorite topic of Romanian cinema: Nicolae CeauĹźescu and the revolution that ended in his execution around December 1989. Later Romanian movies – especially those from prankster-philosopher Radu Jude (Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, Do Not Expect Too Much From The End Of The World) – have cast an eye towards contemporary society, though Bogdan Muresanu’s debut leans more towards the absurd comedy with a touch of the realism of a 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days. It takes quite a bit of time to get up to speed; Muresanu has a lot of characters and plotlines to introduce and not all of them are very interesting or funny. Once things start to escalate towards the inevitable, the jokes start flying and it speeds towards the sort of uproariousness you’d expect from Romanian satire. He’s probably got a good to great movie in him, he just needs more discipline.

Tomorrow: Steve McQueen returns to theatrical narrative for his WWII drama Blitz, and I try to get back on schedule.