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We live in a time of disturbing and often perplexing paradoxes, to which the cinema is not immune. Even as a relative handful of (mostly Hollywood) mega-budget releases take an ever larger share of audiences around the world, the number, depth, and range of films produced in a plethora of richly diverse cultural and production contexts increases year by year, making the task of selection both rewarding and challenging. It is not just a matter of the festival’s providing the opportunity to see the film in a cinema, it is the often the only possibility of seeing the film at all. In a time when the cinematic domain seems increasingly at the mercy of the convergence of the media in the domestic domain, film festivals have become islands of pluralism in which all too few have the chance to access the spectrum of cinema.
Often I am conscious of the importance of many of the films we screen reaching a wide audience; most often, it does not happen. The films that constitute the ‘Sketches of a New Moon’ strand of the programme embrace voices from filmmakers both within and outside the Muslim world, voices that resist its stereotyping and all-too-frequent demonisation. In other sections of the programme, too, are further signs of profound unease about the past, the present, and the future: Godard’s Notre Musique, onthe impact of war as intertwined with the essence of cinema;State of Fear, set in Peru; Hostage, dealing with Greek/Albanian relations; Coca: The Dove from Chechnya, who documented atrocities while fighting for justice; and Machuca, portraying Chile in those last moments before the coup.
This year’s Chauvel Award recipient, two-time Academy Award nominee David Bradbury, has an impressive record as a filmmaker who does not shrink from controversy. I expect his on-stage interview with David Stratton to be both political and engaging in the best sense. His new film, Blowin’ in the Wind, confronts us with concerns disturbingly close to home.
Some of the most powerful documentaries this year celebrate: in Murderball, quadriplegic rugby players, and in Mad Hot Ballroom, less privileged New York kids learning to dance. To simply state their content conveys little of their life-affirming strength. Among the Australian documentaries, there are also some strong celebrations of lives, both private and public. Perhaps the most extraordinary is Jabe Babe—A Heightened Life,a complex and inventive portrait of a woman with Marfan’s disease, which screens with Dream of Love, a filmmaker’s song of love for his parents. Two portraits take us behind public profiles: Girl in a Mirror, about photographer Carol Jerrems, who produced challenging, iconic images of Australia in the 1960s and 1970s; and Yellow Fella, about Tom Lewis who played the titular role in The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, a confronting film for audiences, set in the same era.
While Jabe Babe and the Canadian film Alter Egos both employ animation to challenge the conventions of documentary-film portraiture, standout Australian feature Look Both Ways effectively inserts animation sequences into live-action drama.
The overcoming of quiet tragedies of ordinary lives is portrayed in a début American indie feature, Winter Solstice, while prolific independent Gregg Araki has departed from in-your-face farces to give an affecting, unsettling portrayal of the victims of paedophilia in Mysterious Skin. For anyone who keeps more than half an eye on the Cannes Festival, the critically acclaimed first indie feature of performance artist Miranda July, You and Me and Everyone We Know, will immediately register as this year’s winner of the Caméra d’Or for best first feature.
Other films from newcomers include the quirkyPale Eyes and Manners of Dying, with its innovative and intriguing narrative structure. There are small (or short) gems, such as Bánffy Castle, The Djarn Djarns, Nishadam, and Lesson from Bam, that are likely to launch the careers of their makers.
Following our focus on Argentinian cinema last year, Latin America, a current hotspot for world cinema just starting to be served by local distribution, again looms large in the programme with Whisky, Pin Boy, and Kept and Dreamless—humane portraits of people surviving as best they can.
From its inception, BIFF has placed strong emphasis on the Asia-Pacific region. Chinese cinema, in its different manifestations, has always had strong representation. This year, a season of six Beijing ‘above ground’ films including work by two directors familiar to BIFF audiences—The World by Jia Zhangke, formerly a mainstay of underground filmmaking, and South of the Clouds by Zhu Wen (radically different from his Seafood)—contrast strongly with the focus on Beijing Underground Cinema presented in1994.
Recently, the commercial release of Korean features in Australian arthouse cinemas has become a reality that was unthinkable during BIFF’s first decade. The depth in Korean cinema is reflected in their position as one of the few national cinemas outside the United States holding more than half the local market share. It’s a cinema that produces local blockbusters alongside edgy, low-budget independent work. After a number of years’ absence, Tony Rayns makes a welcome return with ‘New Cinema Reloaded—Korean Independent Cinema’,which no one is better placed to curate.
Malaysian cinema has recently been making great strides with local audiences. Alongside big-budget productions is a digital new wave: Sanctuary from a fellow countryman of Tsai-ming Liang (whose new film is included in the Asia-Pacific section), Malaysian-born Chinese director Ho Yu-hang, and My Beautiful Washing Machine from James Lee.
As I see it, part of the festival’s brief is to introduce the unfamiliar to Brisbane screens. Last year it was Czech Gothic; this year it is Malayalam cinema from Kerala. The current popularity of Bollywood belies the existence of strong regional cinemas in India. We turn to Kerala, one of the most popular tourist destinations, to find that there’s much more than the beguiling charms of temple elephants and swaying palms. Its rich cultural legacy of music, dance, and literature extends to its highly intellectual cinema, one that reflects a very specific regional culture and place. Here we know the films of Gopalakrishnan and Murali Nair but few others—this is a unique opportunity to see some long-overlooked work.
The festival also has a role in reappraising the relatively familiar. ‘Blacktop Dreams’ is a retrospective of road movies, a genre that cuts across a wide variety of film styles and contexts and one, so its curator argues, that has been created by critics rather than moviemakers. Some are difficult to see, others simply difficult to see on the big screen. All together, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts—exactly what such retrospectives are all about.
At the experimental end of the spectrum, James Benning is back (if not in person this year) with 13 Lakes, which featured in the documentary about his work screened last year. Mark Webber, who brought us the London Film-Makers’ Co-op retrospective in 2003, returns with another retro, this time on the work of Owen Land, formerly known as George Landow, whose work spans the structural (the shape of the film as primal impression) and participatory modes, the latter addressing the viewer’s decision-making and logical faculties. Gustav Deustch’s (Film Ist) new film, World Mirror Cinema, in three episodes, screens with new films by Bill Morrison and Peter Tscherkassky, past presences in the BIFF programme. And for those whose curiosity remains otherwise unaroused, there is Abbas Kiarostami’s first video artwork.
This year sees one of our most exciting innovations in 14 years. Three years ago, we introduced the Australian Children’s Film Festival. This year, Cine Sparks—The Australian Film Festival for Young People, brings 13 in-cinema features, and short-film programmes, mostly foreign-language, from Sweden to Iran, Germany to Japan. Too often, the enquiring minds of young people are underestimated. This stimulating programme makes no such concessions. Aimed both at introducing new worlds to young people and at increasing media literacy in a digital age, the programme is complemented by a comprehensive range of workshops.
Cinephiles who invariably check for the programme for established auteurs will, I believe, not be disappointed. In addition to Godard, Araki, Liang, and Kiarostami, already mentioned, there are new films by André Téchiné, Amos Gitai, Wim Wenders, and Youssef Chahine; in the acting stakes, there are the considerable presences of Catherine Deneuve, Gérard Depardieu, Anthony LaPaglia, Adrien Brody, and Kris Kristofferson.
We are privileged to have obtained U-Carmen eKhayelitsha, the extraordinary South African production that won the Berlin Golden Bear, to open the festival. First-time director Mark Dornford-May translated this to film from his stage production, but not a trace of the transition can be seen onscreen. And from Francophone Africa, veteran Senegalese director Ousmane Sembène (now in his 70s) brings us the truly amazing Moolaadé, about six young girls seeking protection from female circumcision who, despite the odds, manage to unite all the women of the village.
Festivals are strange beasts. A few work for a whole year in the hope of bringing to many a few days of excitement, stimulation, challenge, provocation, and enjoyment. You won’t be able to see all the films, but we hope that you like what you do see!
Anne Démy-Geroe
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