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AMERICAN CINEMA PAPERS PRINT ARCHIVE 2010 |
VENICE 2010 – “DIRECTOR’S STATEMENTS” SHOOTING FROM THE LIP by Harlan Kennedy
“In 2006 we
started shooting dead insects on a revolving trash can….” “The future is
pure speculation. So is love.” “The only reason
you are not transparent is because particles move at high speed inside your
body.” “We are scum! We
are barbarians!” “In the beginning was the great cosmic
egg. Inside the egg was chaos, and floating in chaos was Pan’ku,
the divine embryo…” Wow. You mean filmmakers actually talk
like this? They certainly write like it. Or they do so every year - come rain, come shine, come storms or shortfalls of
logorrhoea - in the annual Venice Film Festival catalogue. Every September this incomparable tome, a
lavishly presented companion on the road to enlightenment at Europe’s top
end-of-summer flickfest, includes, in each entry
for each movie, a ‘director’s statement’. In a paragraph the auteur is allowed to
explicate or mouth off - or show off or goof off - about his product, in much
the way an executive at a board meeting might have two minutes to make a
‘presentation’ about his mad, brilliant or revolutionary new idea. Some director’s statements are long, some
short. Some are sane, some deranged. Some are even non-existent: those
instances in which a creator, invited to attach a message, prefers to remain
mum. (This year actor-helmer Vincent Gallo did so.
Maybe he remembered his crucifixion at Cannes in the year of BROWN BUNNY,
2004, when everything he said intensified the ridicule over what he had made.
Gallo offered the words “No comment” in
this year’s catalogue.) But what a vehicle these directors’
statements are. How they help us peer into the conscious schemes or unconscious
follies of a work of cinema. What do film
artists say when they have the freedom of the literary mike - when they are
handed the conch and told to address the invited crowd? Inspired
by the muse of speech, they can be varied, eccentric, beatific, unpredictable. As a veteran of these Venice verbals, I consider the director’s statement -
hereinafter referred to as the DS (which puts it two letters away from BS, a
safe but not fail-safe distance) – an underrated form. It is often more
entertaining than the movie. Certainly it can be crazier. Take this. “Forgive,
vengeance, justice and innocence. Desires are produced due to the gas mask
serial killer…. At last, we are going to be the enemy itself, then we can recognize what it is, what it wants, and how
black it is. It is a huge black hole that sucks one by one…..we recognize
that something impolitical is political…belief in
completeness is totally incomplete. One truth – nobody can escape from
politics: that is the reason that anybody can be the next victim of the gas
skin serial killer.” The writers are Kim Gok
and Kim Sum, co-directors of BANGDOPKI, a metaphysical revenge thriller cum
political allegory from Korea, showing out of competition. Not everyone at
Venice saw the movie, but there were dozens of ‘hits’ for the DS. The surreal
style owes much to the catalogue’s wobbly English: we have a somewhat
sporadic idea of what the two Kims are talking
about. Those who saw BANGDOPKI say the film makes nothing clearer. There is
something marvellous, though, in their blurb, something haiku-hieratic and also haiku-hypnotic. Consider too that “political/impolitical” thought and its formulation. Another
‘director’s statement’ can say the same thing more rationally yet less
persuasively. Jerzy Skolimowski, in his DS for
ESSENTIAL KILLING, insists that his chase thriller involving an escaped
Taliban fighter (played by Vincent Gallo in actor mode) eluding rendition
captors in snowy northern Europe is “neither
political nor apolitical”. We scratch our heads. It has to be one or the
other, doesn’t it? You can’t say of a shop it is neither open nor shut. Yet
when the crazy Kims dish out this fancy-footed
mysticism, we buy it. Sort of. The moral? Don’t make your DS ploddingly
logical or literal. Give it some of the whack and wackiness of your movie.
Spook the reader. Puzzle him. Provoke him. Listen next to this. You know the
director. And you have most certainly heard about the film in question – a cause celebre - even if you haven’t
seen it. “Be careful how you
interpret the world: it is like that. It is impossible to state what one in
fact believes because it is almost impossible to hold a belief and to define
it at the same time. A definition is the enclosing a wilderness of ideas
within a wall of words. Ridicule often checks what is absurd, and fully as
often smothers that which is noble. Nobody gossips about other people’s
secret virtues. When the fight begins within himself,
a man’s worth something. Only dead fish swim with the stream. I am honoured
and humbled to have this film at the Venice Film Festival.” Phew. Any guesses? Yes, Casey Affleck,
blowing hard, blowing vatic, about his Joaquin Phoenix documentary. I’M STILL
HERE was revealed as a gigantic super-con only after the festival. Casey, in
his auteur’s blurb, cleverly combines DS with BS, essayed profundity with
artful b***sh*t. A bit like the movie itself. The
‘honoured to be here’ trope is a popular one and has many variations. It is
hard to resist the way Japanese director Takashi Miike
schmoozes his Venice hosts in the director’s statement for his superhero
movie with a surreal edge, ZEBRAMAN. “I never thought
this work would make it into the Venice Film Festival, because: - no attention to gain praise from audience
was paid in creating this work; - no thought was given to making a profit
for the investors; - this work was
shot with brawn and guts rather than brainpower. Maybe this is why you
allowed my film to be shown? Oh, you Italians are so wonderful. I love you
all.” Is he on the level? Or is Miike taking the mick? Waggish irony,
or a contender for the 2010 Brown-nosing Award? Rather than blandish or flatter their
hosts, some directors at Venice prefer to bare their pain. Agony, they seem
to want to point out, is important to the creative process. Especially when
the creator is Spain’s Alex de la Iglesia, bringing
a film as tormented and grand guignol as SAD BALLAD ON A TRUMPET. Circuses, tragic
clowns, mutilation. Iglesia, in his DS, goes on
about the anguish of artistic birth. And on, and on. “I’m making this
film to exorcise a pain in my soul that just won’t go away, like oil stains.
I wash my clothes with movies.” (!) “I want
to annihilate the rage and the pain with a grotesque
joke that will make others laugh and cry at the same time. I want the film to
take place in 1973, when I was eight years old. I remember that time as a
dream, a nightmare – “ Next!.. Mind you, SAD BALLAD ON A TRUMPET was a
favourite of Jury president Quentin Tarantino, who gave Iglesia
the Best Director prize. Wonder what he washes his clothes in. Sofia Coppola offers a succinct if
self-important introduction to SOMEWHERE, her etiolated comedy about a
hotel-marooned celebrity (Steven Dorff) which –
talking of Tarantino’s favourites – unexpectedly ran off with the Golden
Lion. “I wanted to
make an intimate portrait of a man’s existential crisis in contemporary Los
Angeles.” There’s still time, Sofia. Just don’t
keep repeating the plot of LOST IN TRANSLATION with diminishing returns. But
a Golden Lion is its own answer, she would no doubt say, to us critics
opining that SOMEWHERE is a long journey to nowhere. Least of all to an
“existential crisis.” (Notes towards a better world. Can we stop chucking the
word ‘existential’ around as a ten-dollar homonym for ‘pertaining to
existence’? Existentialism is/was a particular philosophy, founded in a
particular country, France, at a particular social-cultural-historical
moment. Use the word Sartre-ianly - or not at all).
No, the best director’s statements exist, I have discovered, at extremes – extreme extremes - of artistic
accomplishment. Either they come with films so bad that the DS is like a gem
born in slime, one of those miracles that prove there is a ministering angel
of counterbalance, who ensures nothing is so poor it doesn’t boast a
compensating facet or dimension. Or they accompany films so good that the
maker’s mission statement partakes, like everything else, of the work’s
irradiating glory. In the first category, honourable mention
must go to Joao Nicolau’s Portuguese A ESPADA E A
ROSA (THE SWORD AND THE ROSE). Shame about the movie (pirate adventure with
mystical-allegorical trimmings), but you could spend a year happily with the
director’s statement as bedside reading. “…In the
beginning was the great cosmic egg. Inside the egg was chaos, and floating in
chaos was P’an Ku, the divine embryo. P’an Ku Myth (3rd century, China) Plutex is probably an acronym, the meaning of which
nobody knows. (illegible section)” – sic! – “…..When we accept that our familial dimensions were created in the
genesis of the universe and that, simultaneously, in some symmetrical
anti-genesis, the other (6?illegible section)” – sic!
– “dimensions extinguish themselves in
order to create room for a more harmonised relocation of forces – one star,
one proton after another, quarks with raspberry jam – we understand that Plutex is an entropic receptacle of energy…..” And more. Believe me, more.
Transcendental, bonkers, fabulous, Nicolau’s DS
goes on to incorporate “the universe’s
constant panting”, two more “illegible
sections” and winds up with a sentence that reverberates in the reader’s
heart and brain. “A microscopic
splinter in a lab dish can create 75 pocket-size Valhallas
or the most abrupt and (only) End.” Teleogical or what? Nicolau
spoils the landscape for everyone else, or nearly, with this director’s
statement. Who could match it for mystagogic
transport? It deserves its own Golden Lion, The Silver Lion, if I were handing these
gongs out to gab-gifted filmmakers, would go to India’s Mani Ratvan. His director’s statement for RAAVAN, a
Bollywood-style bandit adventure set in Tamil Nadu, is a perfectly formed Sybilline riddle. “Ten Heads Ten Minds A Hundred Voices One Man Did such a man ever exist? Was he just a
man…or a metaphor?” Clever stuff. (And there’s a bit more). Ratvan’s DS encrypts the film and story’s essence. However, I would give the important
Special Grand Jury award, possibly accompanied by the International Critics
Prize, to a director’s statement proving that simplicity can be the best path
of all. Aleksei Fedorchenko’s
OVSYANKI (SILENT SOULS) was many critics’ favourite film of the competition. Its simple, seriocomical,
subtly symbolic tale of life, death and mourning rituals in a Finno-Russian community deserved and got a gimmick-free
DS. Fedorchenko’s statement is both masterly and
economical in its sign-pointing. It succinctly introduces the themes and main
characters. And it is wryly educative along the way. “’Osvyanki’ is the Russian word for the bunting bird, a
cousin of the American sparrow. These small greenish-yellow birds found
almost everywhere in Russia usually go unnoticed. Miron
Alekseevich, director of a paper industrial complex
in the small Kostroma town of Neya, Aist Sergeev, the official
photographer of the same industrial complex, and Miron’s
beloved wife and painter Tanya, are ordinary people. What is unseen all along
is their vision of the world, inherited from an ancient tribe, and the
unimaginable passion raging through their deep and silent souls. They could
be compared to these small birds: simple, common at first glance, yet
revealing riches only sensed by keen eyes.” The director speaks. The director thinks.
The director states. What more does one want from a director’s statement? Though of course we wouldn’t want to be
without the fun stuff either! Pass me some fried mystical eggs from the Pan’ku. COURTESY
T.P. MOVIE NEWS. WITH
THANKS TO THE AMERICAN FILM INSTITUTE FOR THEIR CONTINUING INTEREST IN WORLD
CINEMA. ©HARLAN
KENNEDY. All rights reserved |
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