Are Koreans a Lost Tribe of Ireland?

This is to report sighting potato & bacon pizza, mashed potato sandwiches (white bread) and potato carrot soup, all on offer at Seoul's Incheon airport business class lounge. 

Wrapping up

Saturday and Sunday we went to 3 of an intended 6 films. One of the great lessons of film festival going turns out to be that 6 films in two days would have completely defeated my ability to sit still. And at least one of the ones I'd hoped to see is on Netflix. Maybe more? Again it was a mixed bag.

Tide Lines was very popular at the festival, so we thought we'd give it a try. It is a sort of eco-documentary, about 3 surfing guys who buy a sailboat and circumnavigate the globe, and then some, filming themselves along the way. Somewhere along the line, in the preparations it seems, they got the idea that there is a lot of plastic washing up on shore, so they decided to build into the voyage the quest to demonstrate how badly the ocean is polluted by plastic. Nice sentiment, but unfortunately they don't actually know much about the problem other than that it is ugly to have plastic on beaches, people in poor countries throw a whole lot of stuff away (could it be they lack infrastructure?), and there are people who know more than they do. Oh, and by the way, there is good surfing to be had many places in the world, and you will see away too much of it. Also, small boat sailing can be (a) beautiful and inspiring, and (b) dangerous and frightening. Sorry to say, I can't recommend it.

Like Father, Like Son was a lot better -- one of the highlights of the festival. It is a Japanese film by Hirokazu Kore-eda, about two families who discover their sons had been exchanged at birth without their knowledge. (Unfortunately, the explanation offered in the film was incomprehensible.) It then goes on to explore how the two very different families live, their attitudes toward their way of life, and the impact of coming into close contact with their counterparts. The result is a playful yet serious look at fatherhood, materialism, and values. Apparently it has been a big hit at Cannes and other festivals, and certainly seemed to be a crowd pleaser here. This one is a must-see if you get the chance.

Sunday we finally got in to see Village At The End Of The World, another documentary, this one about a small aboriginal village in north-western Greenland. The subject matter alone is enough to carry this one. The film makers seemed to have gained the trust of the 50+ residents of the village, who let them film their lives, including discussions of the old ways, of the pressures to balance tradition with the modern world, and the villagers' struggle to take over a fish-packing plant that a Danish corporation had closed down. There is also a queasy-making and hilarious segment around the visit of a cruise ship whose passengers seem unable to bring the transitional society they are seeing into line with the noble savages they'd expected. Definitely a film I would recommend.

Zero for two

Friday was a wash out for me, pretty much. We started with Alan Partridge, a Steve Coogan film. I am informed Alan Partridge is "a beloved BBC character" so I assume that I did the equivalent of going to a Mr. Bean film. I sometimes find myself in theatres filled with people obviously caught up in the film, while I feel I've somehow missed the bus they all are riding and enjoying. This was one such -- a throwback to the 1950s style Brit humour, replete with potty jokes aplenty. I wished is actually missed it, but I was very much in the minority. 

We followed up with the Swedish We Are The Best, a coming of age film in which two barely teenaged girls start a punk band. It was mildly amusing in parts but when a fire alarm interrupted the screening, we opted to keep on walking. I was thinking though about the dozens of coming of age films I've watched in which two barely teenaged boys do [insert something stupid or improbable here], and wondered if those seemed as vaguely alien to females in the audience as the two girls in We are The Best seemed to me. 

Finding Vivian Maier

Thursday night was a sell-out for VFF, but fortunately the first film we wanted to see started early, so we showed up a bit over an hour beforehand and succeeded in getting in. Finding Vivian Maier is an odd documentary telling the tale of how a box of around 100,000 negatives, purchased almost by chance at a Chicago auction, launched a young man's obsessive tracking of the photographer. All that was known of her was her name. On the evidence, it was worth the effort. Take a look at the web site John Maloof uses to display her work. Avoiding spoilers, Miss Maier was a nanny/caregiver who lived a very private, almost secretive second life as a street photographer. Armed with a twin-lens Roleiflex, she shot tens of thousands of photos, mostly black and white, some colour, as well as some 8 mm film. Often she took her young charges with her on her excursions.

Maloof should have been a detective. He tracked down many of Miss Maier's one-time employers and the children she took care of, and through interviews, some archival material and the photos themselves, gradually the film teases out a fascinating story of this peculiar and talented photographer.

The untold story, and one that kept puzzling me as I watched was what drove Maloof to pursue the tale so doggedly. His search must have consumed his life for some time. His struggle to persuade the art establishment to recognize Vivian Maier as an artist on a par with Diane Arbus, Atget, Lisette Model and other renowned street photographers must have cost him a fortune as well -- for example, the cost of mounting the first public showing at the Chicago Cultural Center. The only interview I can find on line seems to suggest he's been funding the enterprise on his own. Surely we deserve a sequel documentary, perhaps titled What Makes John Maloof Run?

¡ATRACO! and Triptych

It is now the middle of the festival, and we saw two worthwhile films: one an enjoyable comedy, the other an excellent piece of dramatic film making. Definitely a good nigh at the VFF.

The first was an Argentine-Spanish co-production, ¡ATRACO!, or Holdup!. It claims (not:-) to be based on an attempt in 1955 to smuggle Evita's jewellery collection out of safekeeping in Panama to Spain, and there to pawn it to raise funds for the Perons' flight to Madrid after their exile from Argentina. While the plot occasionally stretches credibility, the acting is good. And, although the plot has elements of international intrigue, romantic comedy, and crime-chase flick, it avoids formula and ends unexpectedly. Not brilliant, but good fun. 

The second, Triptych, by Robert LePage, was as good as I had hoped. A typically elliptical plot, it is well acted and beautiful to watch. It has a nice sense of place, with a segment in each of Quebec, London and Montreal. The segments intertwine in a satisfactory and reinforcing way, building to a fine conclusion. Highly recommended.

Down River, and away down the must see list

Last night was a relatively easy one at the VFF. Sitting through the half hour of previews the night before had warned me away from It Was You, Charlie, for better or worse, leaving one film on the dance card: Down River. It is a Canadian independent film, appearing not to have any government money behind it. Although my mother never said it, I understand that it is wise, if you don't have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all. That is pretty much the rule with this one. Some of the acting was capable, but none of the players could make any headway against the sheer vertical cliff wall of this film's terrible script. Certainly they got no help from the director, for whom plausibility or restraint seem actually to be undesirable qualities. On reading the list of awards the film has won (see link above), I'm not optimistic about the state of the English Canadian film industry.

Three (!) promising films tonight, which will be an impossible goal. I hope to be more cheerful in the next report.

By the way, Helen cautions against At Middleton, which she saw while I was at Putzel. She is batting 0/2, unfortunately.

Preparing for cineramic overload

I have not been paying much attention to films for years now, partly because I've been too busy and partly because I'm allergic to computer-generated special effects. Now it feels like time to change that, in part because there is a Victoria Film Festival, and the lineup on offer looks like it has a lot of interesting if quirky material. 

It seemed unwise to make the leap from non-movie-goer to film festival aficionado without preparation, so I've been easing into movies over the past few weeks. The urge to see some movies again may have started with catching 20 Feet from Stardom on a flight to South America in November. 20 Feet is a fun documentary, and worth seeing in the full length version rather than the shortened Air Canada cut. 

Over Christmas, we followed up with Llewyn Davis, which I found pointless and dry. I wasn't sorry I saw it, as a long-time Dave Van Ronk fan it was an interesting period piece. And I am now re-considering after reading this piece on the New Statesman web site. I may have been one of many who missed the point. 

Then came an opportunity to see Watermark, a documentary film by Jennifer Baichwal and Edward Burtynsky on the use and abuse of water. It is a beautiful film on a disturbing subject, much like Burtynsky's still photography. 

And finally, by way of boosting the quirky quotient, we went to Broken Circle Breakdown. The Georgia Straight got it right in the first line of their review: "If you only see one Flemish-language film this year about Belgians who sing stunning renditions of bluegrass classics in perfect English, make sure it’s Broken Circle Breakdown." I think I'm ready for 14 or more films over the next week.

The first day back from a trip to LA did not begin auspiciously: we showed up for the first film we wanted to see, and were turned back because all the spots saved for pass holders were taken. Boo. Mind you it was to have been shown in a 28 seat theatre, so only 5 places were available and, once it became obvious demand far outstripped 28 seats, another showing is scheduled for next Saturday. 

The second attempt last night was more successful. I saw Putzel, a romantic comedy centered in a New York lox emporium, and thus earning full points for quirky, which had been what attracted me in the VFF brochure. The acting was great, the story amusing, the characters as strange as you might expect, and given that it is truly a low-budget effort, it's overall a success. Great fun.

I will try to keep up these notes through the week, just to see if it can be done.