Leap Year, which I watched on Saturday was a social realism piece from Mexico, delving into the loneliness of a woman who leaves her family and hometown for the big smoke to work in magazines, only to find out she can work from home. This gives her certain freedoms but also makes her life intensely lonely. A compulsive liar, she pretends to everyone that she is happy until it all reaches its nadir. I won't spoil the ending but suffice it to say that it wasn't just one scene in the film that was shocking but several. Apparently it belongs to a genre of films shown in the early hours of the morning on independent digital television channels in Mexico. Which is almost depressing. If low budget films with experimental narratives bordering on expressionism can find a television audience in Latin America, why can't Aussie films find an audience here?
Howl then cleansed my mind from the depressive after effects of Leap Year. Everything from the editing style, to the acting, even to the surreal psychedelic animation lifted the soul. It was inspiring to see that a work of poetry had such a strong impact on a decade that smacked of McCarthyism and conservatism. It was also quite ironic that the defense attorney also appears as Don Bradman in MadMen, another 1950's story.
Friday night I was silly enough to watch Kaboom, the latest Greg Araki young body exploitation film. It was entertaining, but had a lot of unnecessary sex scenes, though beautifully shot. I normally wouldn't object to so many beautiful bodies gracing the screen, but this just felt like a soft porn with a vague plot to call it a film.
On the other hand, Reign of Assassins, John Woo's latest, had the smallest amount of nudity as tastefully depicted as possible. However, the character development was shallow with not a single character evoking an emotional response from the audience. The main saving grace were the martial arts choreography and the sword fighting. It was John Woo trying to do Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but without Christopher Day's help. There was great potential for an epic film but it just fell short of that mark. Having said that, I was on the edge of my seat during every fight scene. I would call it essential kung-fu watching.
I sadly missed out on seeing Orchids: My intersex adventure, but I will obtain a copy from the Executive Producer, Faramarz K-Rahber who assisted in the birthing process of the film.
This was a strange Brisbane International Film Festival. There were a lot of big names, commercially viable films and less than ten days duration. The Regent was no longer the main hub of the festival, losing a bit of edginess and character in the process. Although the Tribal Theatre took up the torch, as the former George St Dendy, the atmosphere had changed. Same faces, different ambience.
The Regent is dead. Long live the Regent. BIFF is over. Long live BIFF.
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