EIFF 2010, Or Why It's Sometimes Good To Play Safe

After a year of anticipation, it was finally upon us... the end-of-year celebration, the respite after the slog of endless weeks of running, planning, fretting and filming... yes, last weekend, DFTV1 arrived en masse in the capital for the Edinburgh Film Festival. Given the festival's track record for launching new films (including, as the posters proudly boasted, Taxi Driver, Pulp Fiction, Let the Right One In and Wild at Heart) I was excited as to what potential future gems we would uncover. Unfortunately, I think we picked the wrong weekend to go- the last of the festival, when the Big Films had been premiered. Soooooo, gone were my plans to see Cherry Tree Lane, The Illusionist, The Dunwich Horror, Get Low, HIGH School, Cigarette Girl, TOY STORY 3... Still, not one to turn down a free cinema ticket, I figured it'd also be a perfect reason to go and see films I wouldn't necessarily have chosen to see before.

First up was actually something I thought I'd have really liked to see, even if my original choices were still showing... the Mexican 'Mariachi noir', El Pantera Negra. What is a Mariachi noir, I hear you ask...? Well friend, you're asking the wrong person, because I don't have a clue either.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4VIXtdtcbA&feature=player_embedded

Starting out oh-so-promisingly, the story centres around Nico, a dishevelled private investigator with more than a passing fondness for the drink. A mysterious phone call from 'God' sets him on a mission to find the fabled 'Black Panther', in return for 50,000 pesos a month- forever. A tip off leads him to the Pantera Negra nightclub, wherein he meets a sultry femme fatale (who is apparently Death), who wants Nico to bring her deceased Mexican singing legend Pedro Infante. (Clearly they're not as fussed about their idols in this film/Mexico, Pedro Infante looks like a caricature from the front of a tequila bottle).
On top of all this there are murdered jockeys, love interest hit-girls (WHY do all female assassins wear skin-tight PVC? Aside from appealing to a certain audience, logistically they must be a bit of a nightmare), shaky looking UFOs, lesbian martians who bear more than a passing resemblance to Frank N. Furter, underground clubs in cemeteries... it's more than a wee bit confusing, and a big bit completely batshit crazy. The film comes across as if reconstructed from Ed Wood's old prop store, with an added slammer of surrealism. I'd like to see it again... mostly because I (shame!) nodded off for 20 minutes in the middle.

Next up that day was a documentary, which is something I'd admittedly only watch if it was on TV. Which, being a More 4 production, this film would've been. Still, Road to Las Vegas sounded like some kind of fun road-trip effort. I was wrong. The family- mother Vanessa, father Maurice and their five youngest (!) children- upped sticks after Vanessa had a message from God, in a dream, telling her she must move the family from their home in Anchorage, Alaska to Las Vegas. Considering Vegas was, at the time, America's fastest growing city, this seemed like a pretty sensible idea.
There wasn't much of a road trip, as the family arrived in Las Vegas in the first ten minutes, with less than $300 to their name. The director followed the family for the next four years, through sleeping in their car, struggling to find work, battling drug addictions and grieving lost family members.
Not exactly cheerful stuff, but director Jason Massot clearly develops a bond with the family, and always portrays them without bias; while there would have been plenty of scope to criticise the family, he instead takes a step back and instead presents them as no different from any of the 7 million Americans who migrate across the country every year, trying to find a better life and the American dream. Possibly not something I'd have chosen to see in the cinema, but an honest and eye-opening film nonetheless.

On Friday we saw another documentary, although this one was as far removed from the trauma of the first one as could be. Superhero Me, by Steve Sale, asked the question previously brought to our attention by Matthew Vaughn's recent Kick-Ass... what happens when real life people try and become superheroes?


Using whatever technology he could lay his hands on, including mobile phone cameras, this debut feature had 'amateur' written all over it, but this really added to the final effect. It had a real home-made feel, and thanks to cameos from Steve's parents, friends and long-suffering fiancee (who becomes his wife during the course of the film), it's a very personal little film too. And, crucially, it's funny- from Steve riding around his hometown on a chopper, trying to learn kung-fu or writing his own theme song, he makes great use of a subject seemingly made for a documentary like this. Steve also meets real-life superheroes, even jetting off to Florida the day after his wedding to meet Master Legend- a good samaritan with over 20 years experience under his (utility) belt. This film is definitely a rough diamond, if a somewhat uneventful one... even if Steve never quite masters superhero skills of climbing walls...or even getting a six-pack!

We followed this up with International Shorts, a series of short films from around the world, funnily enough. The result was a mixed bag, for me. The first film, a Hungarian film called Birthday Party, was a beautifully shot, dialogue-free film. It made clever use of extreme close-ups, only panning out to reveal the final shot, which made the impact of the scene alot greater.
The second film was an eyewitness account of a Swedish bank-robbery, filmed from outside the bank...it didn't really seem like there was much going on, and not seeing the action inside left it a little flat- there wasn't any real sense of excitement, although it was pretty funny watching the bumbling robbers hauled off of a moped by bank security!
After this was an American short, which I didn't like at all- alot of close ups of a boring middle-aged guy, trying to come to terms with his boring middle-aged life. I didn't see any real drive in this film, there was no inciting incident as such, and the final scene- the man managing to thread a needle- seemed a clumsy and cack-handed attempt at whatever 'redemption' he was looking for. Mostly I was just irritated, and the strange use of focus made me feel a wee bit nauseous.
The final film was a strange, but quite funny, little number, about a jobbing actor sent to the Phillipines to coach call centre workers. His guided tour by one of the workers doesn't end up so well though, with his being mistaken for Brendan Fraser in The Mummy 2 causing quite an uproar. Some funny moments, and a curiously downbeat ending, made this an intriguing film, and it seemed the most 'film-like' of all the ones we saw- in that it had a definite structure.

Overall then, quite a variety- although definitely not as many films as I would like to have seen. I'd have liked to have seen more than just documentaries and short films, and I can't say I was especially blown away by what I saw. Lesson learned for next year, though... don't book tickets for the last weekend of the festival, and maybe get up a wee bit earlier to see the films I really want to!
I had also hoped the festival would change my attitudes to Edinburgh in general... I've never been there for more than a day, and I've never really been a huge fan of it. I dunno if it's unfamiliar territory or whatever, but I wasn't particularly bowled over- there's just something about me and that place that doesn't quite gel. Perhaps I'm too 'weegie'- so I guess I'd better get practising my non-regional dialect for next year!

Two Seconds, Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Camera

It feels strange to be sitting with my feet up, and the TV on, writing a reflection on our end of year films. For a start, they mark the end of our time as the 'babies' of DFTV. As of next term, we'll be right in the middle of our degree and won't be able to blame silly mistakes on being young uns any more. Also, it's weird knowing that, as far as our films are concerned, I have absolutely nothing to do. After the last few weeks, the thought of having nothing to do seems a strange and alien thing to me but hey, I'm not one to question a free afternoon to myself.

vThe last few weeks have been a flurry of goings-on, pretty much as soon as we found out which roles we were taking on for our end of year films. Admittedly I was a teensy bit terrified that I'd been made camera op with no assistant, especially since it's been so long since I was even near one. (My last shot at camera opping was Candid Cabaret and that was pretty much 'press record, leave camera alone'). It was a relief to be working with Harry, since we seemed to have alot of similar ideas about how the film would look.

We had our first production meeting in a cupboard somewhere near the AGOS foyer and after that we were ready to go. The next week or so that followed were a headache of planning, scheduling and trying to work out shotlists, storyboards and other necessary things which seem extremely tedious and time-consuming. As most necessary things tend to. I was dreading doing the storyboards, since I haven't drawn...well, anything since finishing college. Once I forced myself into it though, it turned out OK. There were more than a few glitches along the way- mostly involving unwilling agents and promises of extras which fell through. Happily (for me), this was more an issue for our more-than-capable producers Sam and Julia to sort out, although I'm soooo happy we got sorted in time. I found the way the agency had treated us was appalling- surely if you have actors on your books, who are suitable for the role & have agreed to do so, it should be a relatively straightforward process? How is that going to work when said actors are out there trying to get jobs in the 'real' world? I'm just glad it wasn't me who had to deal with them...


We also had a shaky start with our sound recordist. Since we've only had two classes in sound, away back in February, none of us were overly keen to sign ourselves up. We managed to bag one, but true to form, he too cancelled on us. Grr! At the last minute, somehow, it was decided that our editor Michael would do sound on Sunday, followed by Gav on Monday. Location-scouting was alot more straightforward... for day one, we'd be building a three-walled set in AG10, and the second day would be in Harry's flat on Glasgow Green. Happy days!

Last Saturday we started building the set- it's a strange, bizarre thing to be in uni on a Saturday, with all the junior academy types floating around, but we kept out of the way. And thankfully, too, since I'd brought my scabby painting gear with me- which, YES, consisted of trackies and a stretched out old t-shirt I haven't worn outside in MONTHS. Not exactly hot stuff, but still, it was gonna get covered in paint. We had Sam's joiner friend on board to help with the actual, y'know, joinery, so all we had to do was paint...a good thing too, those flats were bloody HUGE!

The next day was It... The first day of shooting. I was determined to not make any mistakes with the camera, and luckily my fellow DoP Amelie is quite well-versed in all matters camera... or at the very least, she knew what needed done when I was in a flap about white balancing and such. Once I got going though, everything seemed to run pretty smoothly. We were lucky that Julia Jack, our actress, really got into her character- pretty essential for a film based heavily on a central performance!- and carried the emotional weight of the film really well. It was also good to see everyone growing in confidence as the day went on; and this continued into the next day as well.

The only real problem on day one was sound... apparently the camera was switched onto 'front mic', rather than coming through the mixer, and I was more than a little annoyed that this wasn't picked up on until we were about to break for lunch. ESPECIALLY since we only had an hour's worth of tape for each day, therefore couldn't afford to go back and re-shoot. Plus, I was really proud of some of my random shots I'd captured, which were mostly complete flukes and I didn't know if I'd get them again. It just shows how unequipped we are to do sound on our own, and definitely need a few more classes in this field...

The next day got off to a bit of a rough start, since the charger broke down and refused to charge anything. Nightmare!! Amelie, Harry and I got into Harry's flat to set up, but without batteries for the camer and monitor, there wasn't much we could do. Eventually, a new charger and a fully charged battery arrived, as did our three-month-old co-star... Sam's little boy cousin, who for purposes of the film we had to dress in a pink babygrow...I just hope it doesn't scar him too much! Keeping it in the family, the role of the daughter aged 15 was played by my wee cousin Samantha. It was good since uni and work mean I don't get to see as much of my family as I'd like, plus she got to see me in action too. I can only apologise though; after my auntie saying she could take the day off school to come along, the wardrobe requirements were...uh..school uniform. Sorry, Sammy!

Tempers were a bit frayed on the second day, but after some lunch in the sun I think everyone managed to chill out a little bit. It's a long, claustrophobic day on shoot and you tend to fall over each other quite alot- especially when you're pushed for time and feel under pressure to not only wrap a scene, but make it look the best you can. I think we pulled together well towards the end, and I'm really excited to see the first rough-cut. Or, in the case of the end-of-day scenes, AKA when the monitor battery ran out and we had to rely on what I could see through the viewfinder, more than a little bit apprehensive... the words "we'll just have to trust Ada's judgement" struck a teensy bit of fear into me, I must admit! I did find that I really loved doing camera though- I dunno if it's the narcissism of people seeing what I shot, the way I framed it, or helping to bring Harry's words to life, but I definitely know I'm over my fear of camera. And who knows, maybe it's even something I could see myself doing?? Watch this space...

The Last Picture Show (1971)

Why don't you love me like you used to do?

This song, which plays over the credits of Peter Bogdanovich's The Last Picture Show, has so many inferences throughout this film. Relationships, friends, family, even the town itself gets cast aside eventually and the result is a sad, barren dust pile somewhere in Texas that is slowly dying.

This film, shot in black & white for an added feeling of melancholy, reminds me of Jim Jarmusch in its simplistic style, but at the same time looks fitting of the period. Despite being made in 1971, Bogdanovich and designer Polly Platt have created a world so starkly and believably realised that it's hard to tell it was filmed 20 years later. It focuses primarily on the relationship between Sonny (Timothy Bottoms) and Duane (Jeff Bridges), two high-school best friends at that awkward age when all there is to do in small town Americana is hang about the pool hall and try and have sex.

The odd juxtaposition of the 'Wild West' setting and the boring, unfulfilling lives the inhabitants lead make for an unusual setting for such an in-depth character study, but I think the contrast works well. By keeping the film's focus so inward facing, it allows us to get to know the characters more thoroughly. This, I think, give the final act a more affecting impact and the 'climax' is genuinely touching because of it.

It's a low-key, slow burning film which does tend to feel a little directionless at times, but I think this is the whole point. Like the wind rolling in at the start of the film, things just take their time rolling by, both on screen and in small-town life in general.