Well its come and gone; as one of my classmates said, possibly the highlight of Gothenburg’s yearly festivities, at least for film lovers. Overall I would say I am completely satisfied with almost every film I screened, and glad that I chose to invest the time and money into seeing a vast sum of films, 16, as opposed to last year’s paltry 3. Taking the opportunity to see films that potentially wouldn’t cross my radar again has been simply fantastic, not to mention the companionship and discussions provided by Emma during the festival has been, as they normally are, illuminating.

I discovered a great many things about myself during the festival, as I think any open eyed, inquisitive and analytical individual tends to do whilst biting off tremendous chunks of culture hailing from distant and far off places. The most important discovery rests perhaps on the fact I was able to keep up not only with the screening of nearly two films a day for almost a week and a half but also writing about and reviewing said films. This fact shows me that I probably have chosen correctly to study and pursue an academic interest in something I enjoy immensely, something I have stamina and love for; if I didn’t burn out from this I probably never will.

I have often tended to be a very non-critical person when it comes to critiquing other human beings artistic pursuits (music excluded – I won’t hesitate to “throw down” on shitty tunes), in this case films, something I felt changed during the festival. When one begins to feel ones time consumed by these works it becomes nearly impossible to always find positives in everything. When a bad film occupies a limited amount of spots or resources it is only natural to “slag it off”. In the end I have perhaps finally learned the value and existence of a negative review. It’s time for the entire Porkys series to receive additional company in my “dog house” of shit films. This however does not admonish a negative review by some 40 something middle-aged women on Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008), or a teenager trying to explain to me why Benjamin Button (2008) sucks because they didn’t come to grips with its positivity concerning the aging process. These examples are just bad assignments doled out by clueless newspaper and magazine executives that in turn make these reviewers resemble “human dildos“.

It had been my intent to use this “free time” in my life, in between “gigs”, to see how I would manage with a film blog or self appointed assignments of sorts. If academics would translate into more colorful everyday human commentary. To this extent the intensity of Gothenburg’s Film Festival has provided me with a training ground that subsequently has been followed by a positive result upon my potential to succeed in similar endeavors in the not to distance future. The plan now is to attend the 51^st annual San Francisco film festival in late April through May and repeat a similar procedure there. A new goal runs rampant through my head now to, perhaps by the time next fall rolls around, September to be exact, dupe someone into paying for a trip to Toronto along with a few free films that I just have to muse over. This is and hopefully becomes a full time job! If not there is always a musty office in an “ivory tower” somewhere to be had once that PhD title has been obtained, Doctor Higgins I presume, anyone?

Ever been to the movies with someone and discovered after the screening that you and your “compadre” have seen two totally different movies? Three Monkeys (2008) is that kind of movie, or at least my viewing of it was, my “compadre” in this case my elegant wife. The different movies we saw were first of all, the fantastic movie I saw and well as she described it, in a very curse riddled way, the travesty of a film she saw where, “nothing fucking happened”! To show my wife how much I appreciate her opinion I’m going to try in my review of the film to incorporate what I fathom she experienced along with my obviously more educated, and well founded opinion, ha ha ha…

Right, Three Monkeys for starters is not a film I would have been able to appreciate a year and a half ago prior to starting down the track of becoming a film major. Back then I was a fan of science fiction films, bad action and blockbusters, with nary an idea about any film prior to the year of my birth, 1980. Simply put, I had no patience or set of filters to be able to appreciate anything but films that resembled a meal consisting of a can of Coca Cola accompanied by cotton candy. I still enjoy meals consisting of this kind of sustenance but have also developed my palette just a smidgen.

Three Monkeys comparatively speaking to my film viewing past is a very “requiring” movie, it forces the viewer, in essence, to feel the film and come to grips with the silence and non-action. This is taken to an extreme in the fact that there is no music in the film besides a cell phone ring tone. None of the main actions the protagonists go through is ever seen “on camera”, it all takes place off screen, with only its emotional impact gesticulated subtly for the viewers. The film is a technical master piece, from its cinematography, a very de-saturated “Roy Anderson-esque” aesthetic, to its multiplicity of camera angles that linger making masterful use of close up shots.

The same reasons that make Three Monkeys so fantastic are exactly the same reasons that can make you hate the “living shit” out of it. When nothing happens onscreen and you don’t get sucked into the emotions displayed by the characters then I think it has a chance to be images that provide no satisfaction beyond the cinematography, which is unavoidably awesome. This is perhaps precisely why my companion hated the film, which in retrospect I completely understand, even to the extent of seeing myself walking out if, as stated, had I watched Three Monkeys a few years back.

Reviewers of the film throw theoretical adjectives like realism and modernism at this film which I think is fairly off the mark. To me it is a well executed example of a post modern film that is so good at what it does that it is able to “dupe” those people who are so into that “pure” kind of image and film of the past. It is a story where nothing happens at the same time that everything happens. It’s impossible to recommend the result of a film like this, if you will like it or not, since you really have to feel it; however it is completely 100% worth the recommendation for the experience in itself. At the very least it is a beautifully moving photograph.

Originally, Sunday at the film festival was supposed to be a day off, a day to perhaps write and lounge around the house in my long johns, but alas this was not to be the case. You see my lovely wife’s colleagues, knowing that I am a “film man”, have been springing loads of soon to be extinct free movie vouchers upon us. Not one to pass up a freebie this has lead to the inclusion of three extra films under the festival; Revolutionary Road (2008), which played this Sunday, is one of these films and subsequently did also play at the festival so I’ve included it under this heading.

I have to say that Revolutionary Road was a surprisingly well done film, to a large extent an excellent companion to a film like Mammoth (2009), as both films press against what I would consider to be similar theoretical fault lines, albeit from different positions. Where Mammoth treats and sets its critique of modern pursuits in more contemporary terms, Revolutionary Road uses an old “sci-fi” trick in order to gain some “critical distance” approaching the same themes from the past instead.

The difference in the two films, beyond their time periods, is that Revolutionary Road is a much more brutal and raw critique of its subject material. It is a “force feeding” of sorts that hits on many points that are extremely easy for anyone to see in themselves and or relate to. Whereas Mammoth has two extreme positions, one of upper class and one of lower class, Revolutionary Road exists as a sort of middle of the road position, to this effect as stated the two films are great companion pieces.

What is so very interesting here for me, something I stated to my wife upon leaving the movie theater, is the how or why films like these are popping up now, especially in more commercial movie theaters. The question’s answer is easily accessible, of which I’ve hinted at in the title to this post. My theory on the matter is that, like there was at the end of the 60s, there exists now a tear in the veil through which the energy to produce certain types of films, Revolutionary Road included, is pouring through. The time periods in both Mammoth and Revolutionary Road are in no way shape or form the same, just as the 60s attempt at revolution is different from the reforms called for now. What is the same is the continued existence of a hole in the facade of banal pursuits, and the questioning that surrounds what we strive for on a daily basis.

I sometimes joke around with my friends or acquaintances when they ask me what I plan on doing with my degree in film by telling them, “I’m gonna make porno’s!” The truth be told I’ve always been in it for exactly this kind of analysis, to use the filters my film degree has provided me to see the flux of society through films, to see the zeitgeist of our times that pours through a well made film like Revolutionary Road.

Wow, three movies in one day, nearly non-stop from three o’clock in the afternoon until midnight. I think my eyes seriously became one with my contacts. The day could not have started any worse than it did from a film quality perspective; the documentary At the Edge of the World (2008) receives my official worst of the film festival award. I’m pretty sure my final film on Monday evening, Three Monkeys (2008), doesn’t have a shot at sucking as badly as this documentary did.

As mentioned in my pre-festival run down I’m quite acquainted with the subject material from the Animal Planet television series. I guess I expected something more from an actual concentrated hour and a half documentary about the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society but alas it only succeeds in making the crew to some degree a tad more sympathetic than the television series does. This fact is mainly due to a reduced focus upon the ego driven founder of the organization Paul Watson, aka admiral James T. Kirk. Overall where the documentary falls short is in its attempt to let the majestic beauty of the Arctic Ocean speak for itself, or carry the film, it doesn’t. Something is just simply off with too much time focused upon mundane things that have nothing to do with the crews endeavors, versus the television series’ concentration upon the opinions and duties of the crew, even if this focus does make them less sympathetic it makes for a more entertaining spectacle.

If you are interested in fundamentalists trying to save whales stick to the television series and let this poorly executed documentary rot in its can, its presence at the festival is all but an abomination.

As a late edition to my festival lineup, I went on Friday afternoon to watch the documentary Man on a Wire (2008). For the most part I had read only “rave” reviews of the film, but had not fully flushed out how or why this was the case. The synopsis of the film as well somewhat obscured its hype, I thought to myself ok, it’s a man tight rope walking between the twin towers in NYC sometime in the 70s, amazing but how does that equate to the reviews the film had received? The answer to the film’s success however was provided on Friday during the 90-minute screening.

There are a lot of small details in Man on a Wire that are nearly impossible to describe for the purposes of a blog review, I would classify them as sublime, they are elements describable in thesis or require an individual himself to view and more importantly “feel” in the film. One thing I can point out though is that most of these details and overall subject material of the documentary were made possible by an extraordinary human being in Philippe Petit. From the moment he speaks in the documentary an exchange of energy occurs between one’s soul and the celluloid. Addressed beyond the journey one as a viewer is taken through following Petit’s own dream, is the question of how and why we follow or don’t follow our own dreams.

For me Man on a Wire, coupled with the actual act itself Petit pulled off, is one of the most perfectly constructed critiques of capitalism’s  flawed logic. I use the word perfect because of its simplicity and the fact this is and never was the point of the film or the act, which is to be political. It simply is what exists in the background, like a photograph perfectly framed, contrasting its opposites. As a viewer one is made very aware that dreams on this scale, that provide such sublime feelings of inspiration, are difficult to achieve with how we currently pursue and live our lives. Not to mention that the road from childhood to adulthood involves the creation of a great many “whys”. There is simply too much red tape, lack of encouragement and resources, in so many different ways shapes and forms, to dream as big and as childishly as Philippe Petit dared to do.