Friday, 24 October 2014
As Chris Jones opens the 2014 London Screenwriters' Festival I once again bring you just a small portion of the seminars, screenwriting wisdom and atmosphere here in Regent's Park University. Here we gather with some 800 attendees who form our screenwriting community. For us, this community is our second home, reminding us that as we write for hours on end during the rest of the year that we are never truly alone. In the same way that stories don't exist in isolation but are part of our communal human experience LSF is part of the screenwriting experience. It reminds us that we come from and are a part of something greater than ourselves, that the work we produce is for an industry that exists outside of our computer screens and touches people we will never meet.
The festival has grown so much since it's beginning just five years ago, each year broadening it's horizons and building on experience, a bit like the process of becoming a seasoned writer in fact. Chris' opening is always an exciting intro to energise everyone for what will be a very long and busy three days of fun. Momentum is important because here we have the opportunity to grow from other people's experiences. But really, all that you need to get the maximum from the London Screenwriters' Festival is to show up, really show up and be present, involve yourself, stick out your hand to people and say hi, or join the discussion online, be part of the community. You don't have to be the best writer, or vastly experienced or even sold to belong here. What we all learn in these halls is that each of us has our own unique experience of the world that hopefully finds it's way into the stories we share. So whether you're at the festival or joining us online, dive in, enjoy, enthuse and above all allow yourself to have fun. It's not called a festival for nothing you know!
Live tweets continue through the days of the festival from my twitter account @momentsoffilm
Thursday, 23 October 2014
It's at this time each year that I pack some stuff into my camera bag and head of to live tweet and to blog from the London Screenwriters' Festival. It's a jam packed three days of seminars, meet ups, parties, book launches, pitching, mentoring, networking, readings, and a million other little things and each year the festival seems to get bigger, more efficient and with over 800 attendees, something that can be overwhelming, especially if you've never been before.
This year I've told myself I'm travelling light, meaning that I plan to take just one bag with only the essentials I need to get my work done during three long days. It's easy to let oneself get bogged down with unnecessary items.
Travelling light is also a metaphorical thing for me because turning up to the festival with a light heart and leaving any baggage you don't need back at home sets you up for a wonderful time and a lot of discovery. Some of the most incredible sessions I've attended at the LSF have been one's I ended up in unintentionally, whether because the session I was going to go to filled up or I happened to change my mind and tag along with a new friend I'd made. Some of those friends tried their hands at pitching just for the heck of it and had incredible success. And while I don't knock planning ahead, it's really great to experience the festival moment by moment and to feel free to go to new places.
With so many people, no way to truly tell who's all going to pile into what area at any one time, and an endless stream of information, people everywhere and pitching pressures, sometimes things don't go to plan and if that happens and you find yourself getting frustrated, intimidated or flustered in any way, my advice is to put down your baggage right there in that moment and lighten your load of expectation. Let the festival, it's incredible staff and facilities look after you. It's what being part of a screenwriting community is all about.
I'll see you there or online (@momentsoffilm on twitter & via this blog), free as a bird!
Tuesday, 21 October 2014
Part of the Sonic section of this year's London Film Festival, Austin to Boston is a delightful documentary vignette of a higgledy piggledy three thousand mile road trip around several US states as a bunch of up and coming musicians from London's Communion artist-led community pile into five VW Campers and take their talents for a two week jolly in venues dotted around America. The friendship shared, the music joined, the weather endured and the talent realised becomes the romantic mantra for what would otherwise be a bog standard tour doc.
The cinematography is a mixture of quality and quirk and a bit hit and miss. The quaint seventies 8mm inserted footage ties in with the intention to show 'a modern tour done the old fashioned way' but actually I'm not sure how much relevance that idea truly holds for a film audience today who prefer to see real above reel footage. What's far more captivating than grainy picture and purple tinged wistfulness is the way the film has tapped into the artists themselves, the craft and the intention behind the music they make. This is illustrated best through the musing moments captured en route, the good offs and games and via the deep bear-like narration of Gill Landry delivering through all a poetic rendition about life on the road.
The journey is repetitive as long stretches of road string out between performances that repeat, what creates a through line that keeps the film moving forwards is the sound mix that carries us from live performance, to jamming in vehicles, campsites and parties as a single piece of film, and we get a sense not of one tour or one collection of people but this encapsulated window into the life of musicians. That the music is deeply beautiful, heartfelt and comes from complimentary artists is helpful too. As we see people have fun we're encouraged to know that they do this mad touring thing because it's crazy fun and I'm sure that's true, but there's a missed opportunity here that didn't show the real challenges of modern musicians, didn't fully explore the tensions or negative aspects of a bunch of people stuck together (perhaps the trip was too short or they all too nice for that to become an issue) and only touched on the really interesting insight about artists who've joined a collective to lead their own careers, even if that does mean they're crammed into ancient VW's and headlining intimate sheds on their own terms instead of supporting bigger artists in bigger air conditioned tour busses.
Regardless of any of it's limits and shortcomings the film exceeds it's PR intention to showcase new talent and instead gives a short tour a timeless quality, making the journey seem far longer than it's two weeks. It's warm and easy viewing and pleasant people trying, what it misses in risk it makes up for in earnest happiness. James Marcus Haney, Ben Lovett, Ty Johnson, Ben Howard, The Staves, Nathaniel Rateliff, Bear’s Den, Ben Lovett, Gill Landry, they're all nice people. Nice people, doing cool things, because they like it, and because practicing craft collectively works and has meaning for us all. At a brief 72 minutes what's not to like about seeing a bit of that!
Perhaps more suited to television than the big screen this documentary about the brothers behind the Cannon motion picture company and their extraordinary success and failures with exploitation film is a snappy zappy switcheroo that tries to grab your attention every ten seconds swipes between star studded black screen interviews, archive footage and movie clips that will make most of us cringe.
If you're the sort of person who loved the fun of those cheap exploitation flicks then you'll probably enjoy the warts and all story of how they came to be. If you're not a fan there's still some interesting stuff to find out but the shiny delivery slathered on sensationalism about both the grossness and the audacity of the subjects will likely feel less like shine and more like schizzle.
For all that Menahem Golan and his cousin Yoram Globus had a brassy spirit and in many ways set precedents for pre-sales, foreign markets and the way movies made profits and engaged audiences with high amounts of action, sex and violence, they were unable to make their own enterprise flourish either artistically or in the end, financially proving their lack of relevance in the overall picture of film history. The more the documentary tried to illustrate both the cheeky chappy 'character' side of the Israeli immigrant cousins the more it sort of clanged on my sensibilities and I rather wondered whether these hustler guys and what they'd 'achieved' even deserved a documentary. A huge bunch of talent seemed to think otherwise though and had turned up to deliver ample amounts of anecdote that is only marginally interesting coupled with footage that has been seen before and discussed ad infinitum already. Winner's thoughts on the Death Wish sequels I did not ever need to see again! I decided in the end that maybe this documentary did have purpose, but only so these awful movies and the practices that surrounded them never become repeated.
The crudeness of the Cannnon brand seeps unwittingly into this film too and I was left with a rather icky stain on my filmic soul from it. However, as a major power at one time behind Thorn EMI, owners of Elstree Studios and other UK film interests, to which they managed to owe something like $80M in debt in the long run which would have had significant impact in this smaller film sphere, I can see how the documentary found it's place at the London Film Festival. However it's not the film I would like to have seen, it's a cheap, brash TV version. My advice, is if you bother to watch it at all, do so on the telly while you chop veg for supper of something. This isn't a story that requires your full attention or a film that can hold it.
Monday, 20 October 2014
Perhaps my favourite film of this year's London Film Festival 10,000 km deals with distance both physical and emotional and the role technology plays to both join and divide us.
Directed by Carlos Marques-Marcet the film follows the relationship of Alex and Sergi as they put pause to their life and traverse the difficulties of a long distance relationship. Melded into the storyline of separation the film is a wonderful window into our current times, Alex and Sergi are planning a child but economics mean there's not work or opportunity enough in Spain for them to both live fully. When they agree to put their plans on hold so that Alex can take pursue an opportunity to establish her career in LA while Sergi remains in Spain to secure his teaching future in Barcelona. The intention is to weather the separation with as much contact as they can muster over such distance and join forces in Barcelona again with stronger prospects in a mere nine months, but with the strong physicality that bonded them missing the two find that Skype, text, email and phone conversations hold them back from moving on with either their relationship or their lives outside of each other and things begin to stagnate and sour as hurts real or imagined overshadow their bond.
With extremely smart cinematography and tight direction the film creates two worlds and two cultures out of two tiny apartment locations and two actors and is a quintessential example of how independent films can be wonderful exactly because of their limitations. Technology is portrayed with movement of camera and situation with long static shots that show the movement (or lack thereof) of the characters within their space. What's truly lovely are the moments we see of the characters that the devices they're communicating through don't pick up. Warmth, love and emotion touch us through sound and music that blend with the light and dark and a tiny amount of exterior view is utilised well at each location to open out the story landscape considerably. This is a skilled, precise production that could have been claustrophobic but instead is made enveloping. The film delivers well on it's themes and is clear and authentic in it's message. It's also packed to the gills with feeling and has a human allure that's sublimely engaging.
Natalia Tena (Game of Thrones) is wonderful and versatile as Alex and her incandescent womanhood is balanced well by the warm and earthy sexuality that David Verdaguer brings to Sergi. These two veteran actors bring real craft into the subtle relationship turns and errors and we feel for and with them all the way.
A truly wonderful Spanish language film, 10,000km screened as part of the 2014 London Film Festival where I can tell you it has been well loved and respected by it's audiences and where for once, technology, recession and the distance of language did nothing to diminish the flow of connection. A lovely treat to watch. See it as soon as you can.
Indie writer/director Josephine Decker has achieved an extraordinary feat by achieving acceptance in more than one international A list film festival for not one, but two of her first feature films who have shown in tandem at Berlin and London this year. I only saw her latest of the two productions but it certainly left an impression.
Set in remote Kentucky farmland Thou Wast Mild and Lovely begins as farm hand Akin (Joe Swanson) comes to work the summer for farmer Jeremiah and his daughter Sarah (Robert Longstreet and Sophie Traub). Things begin with an undertone of secrecy, sadism and sexual tension as passive Akin hides the fact he's left some family secret and a wife and child behind, Jeremiah provokes mischief but only if it's nasty, and Sarah flaunts her sexuality to manipulate emotional crescendos in those around her.
Told with mostly inspired cinematography (bar far too much of my pet peeve that is back of the head shots) the impish camera style takes us a step back from the action to voyeur happenings from within the surrounding landscape, sometimes from the point of view of a cow. This technique allows us to separate ourselves from the expectations of people and reduces our tendency to judge the characters as humans but to observe them as objectively as we observe the other animals we encounter in the shots. Free of the responsibility to judge as humans, the camera frees us also to indulge our own depravity enough to enjoy the baser psychosexual aspects of the film. And there are some deep and ugly themes to this production, that are somehow portrayed with more elegance and understanding than they might otherwise deserve.
The actors too add a great deal to their characters ability to transcend our dislike and seduce us into the inner spaces of ordinary humans and how selfish and tortured that inner world can be. As the action plays out the third act becomes not only more intense in terms of action and depravity but does so because this action echoes the inner needs of the people it involves. Jeremiah needs to wound and degrade others, Sarah needs to manipulate and control, Akin needs to remain blindfold and indulge sensuality over sense. The end comes unsettlingly back to a bruised reality that seems uncomfortable at first and kind of flat afterwards but is evidence that we've been to areas of our psyche we wouldn't normally find reason to delve into.
The sound is good quality and atmospheric, there's a nice lilting song toward the end, but overall the score becomes invasive and grating and I found myself wanting to break stringed instruments over musicians heads on several occasions. The films story is similar, there's a lot of quality here but it's too many feelings splurged out into too many directions to have real impact. There's an intermittent voiceover from Sarah that's interesting and pregnant with elegiac prose, but overall the film remains quite impenetrable in terms of meaning. Sarah's words do lend a small clue to us at the end with urgent pleading she asks us us to not be afraid, don't fear. What I think we're not to fear is the nature of our passions, that they are often urgent, seething, ugly, violent and that ultimately they are forgivable and worth it. Though I liked it well enough once, this isn't a film I'd watch twice and I've seen better indie films with takes on the same themes but there's certainly a seed of worthiness to this production and those involved with it are I think well worth our attention.
Thou Wast Mild and Lovely screened as part of the London Film Festival 2014.
Monday, 13 October 2014
Dwyle flonking and other pastimes are among the fascinating tales of England's Norfolk Broads as told by local, Ken Allen a characterful fruit & veg seller brimming with stories.
Through the reminiscence of Ken, plus some beautiful natural visuals and sounds from the surrounding broads and landscape that surround his well known shed/shop we are transported to a region of England that has stood since ancient times and will stand for generations of local characters yet to come. Not too long to watch but long enough to get a feel for a life lived, filmmakers Rob Curry and Tim Plester have put their finger on the pulse of a locale just enough for us to feel it's vital rhythm.
The experience of this production is like having one of those brief golden conversations one gets to have once in a while with a real local character that helps you love a place better because they've lived so mired in the local landscape that they've become a living breathing part of it. Its a joy that leaves you wanting more and as documentary shorts go, one of the nicest slices of life I've experienced.
Here We'm Be Together forms part of the Summer Days Drifting Away short films programme in the Journey section of the London Film Festival.
Thursday, 9 October 2014
Juliette Lewis performs as an intelligent mother who's ever crying progeny and blinkered husband fail to recognise her maternal efforts. Struggling to evolve from her punk chick roots into suburban mommyhood she befriends Jonny Weston's Cal, a young neighbour struggling with his own evolution into life as a paraplegic. Isolated from their peer groups and both defined by the things they've lost, Kelly's former and Cal's current cockiness find attachment in each other.
Aside from one hideously obvious wig that's not supposed to be a wig, the film has nice production standards, some interesting cinematography set ups and a bucket load of intense and meaningful story. A wonderful and varied soundtrack punctuates intimate moments and in fact, sound design all around creates a lot of the dramatic structure upon which the scenes hinge. Amy Lowe Starbin's screenplay hit's just the right notes to highlight each character's charm and ridiculousness creating a lot of likability in these people, I'd have liked a stronger ending but it wraps up sweetly and retains a moral backbone of sorts. Juliette Lewis and Jonny Weston have true chemistry and shine out against an impressive supporting cast that includes Josh Hopkins and Cybill Shepherd. All are well directed by Jen McGowan. Overall, the film is a condensed character study about the ways life changes and how we all sometimes fail to adapt well.
For all of it's quiet insular storyworld the small film still manages big heart that's largely actor led but it's beautifully done. And in many ways for me, this story of adults coming of age only in painful stages mirrors the career of Juliette Lewis herself, who I've enjoyed watching since she was very young and who has managed in all her roles to retain a core of the unique quality she brought to her early work instead of folding into the mundanity that many female roles pigeonhole women toward as they grow older. Any writer or director who can come up with stories that are multi-faceted for both male and female characters will get my vote every time. I'll look forward to seeing future work from everyone involved in this production.
Kelly & Cal showcases at the London Film Festival from today.
Recorded live at Alexandra Palace in 2013 Biophilia Live is not merely a concert film but a wonderful exploration of the biological nature of sound and how through sound (among other things) we nurture our urge to affiliate with other life forms.
Part of a more enveloping multimedia project by Björk, the film co-directed by Nick Fenton and Peter Strickland showcases the huge mastery of this artist and her collaborators performing and we see them as equally exotic creatures to wonder at alongside the powerful nature visuals of sea life, bacterium and wonderful landscapes of Earth and our universe. Visuals of sound itself are represented and specially engineered instruments remind us that we are unraveling the very DNA of the sound landscape in order to better communicate. And I guess we can ponder ourselves what this means to us in a world that is stretching technologically and sometimes overwhelmed biologically.
The experience of this film is emotional. I freely admit that I tend toward the Quentin Crisp school that all music is noise and as a rule and I only listen to any music on a rare rather than regular basis. However while I might not understand the whys of it, music has as much an effect on our body chemistry as a vitamin or virus. Our cells use it to change us somehow and perhaps the same is true of all sound as a vital part of nature and all it's processes whatever type of organism you happen to be. I may not be any more musical now than when I began watching but I feel like I understand sound better for viewing this film and the wonderful artists who blossom in it. Nature, music and technology become conjoined and it's perhaps only an echo of times to come and always most affecting are the incredibly powerful human voices joined in song.
I heard the film compared to an opera but there's something far more tribal and very down to earth about it. As a film piece it reminded me greatly of Godfrey Reggio's Koyaanisquatsi and equally powerful, although with perhaps quite the opposite message, one of a mutuality. On that note (pardon the pun) it's a cinematic sound experience well worth sharing with friends.
Björk: Biophilia Live screens at the London Film Festival from today.
Sunday, 7 September 2014
Gradually I thought the urge to write would come back. When it didn't I realised there was another urge there in it's place, the urge to be normal, to be nobody, to be without expectation or demand. And things have come in to fill that normality, nothing vastly exciting, but things turn up for me to do each week and it didn't seem to weigh on me as much that I wasn't being artistically 'productive' in any way.
Then last week over brunch with some of the people who began my journey into writing and making film I had some conversations that put my absence of motivation into a different perspective. One of my friends who moved back to Australia got married there this year and this was a celebratory reunion of his nuptials and a rare opportunity to catch up with others. We reminisced a little about what we'd all achieved in the years we'd been completing projects in London before he moved away and my friend mentioned that we'd probably have been better off not spending as long planning and executing each project, but if we'd just been prolific and made more things together more often and if we had, we'd maybe be in different places now. He had a point, but talking further we both came to another realisation about making stories... none of of us around the table were doing anything like that at the moment and it is because we are busy just living life, connecting to the people we love and care for, and spending time with them and that's as much as we want to manage right now because making projects incessantly, while it looks great from the outside and can make you proud, can also really take away from achieving depth of meaning in your own internal life story and ultimately, when that happens you run out of having anything you feel is worthwhile to say until you fill that well of experience again.
It's an important lesson to learn in a society obsessed with success, productivity and achievement that what really matters both in life and in art is that it is sustaining. The things we do, the things we are should have the full breadth and depth of human experience to feed ourselves as well as our audience and that doesn't come easily and isn't fed by simply continuing to do what you did before without growth or change or rest. Whether you are prolific or a perfectionist comes second to what you ultimately produce and how it connects us to the world and each other. It's easy to splash about in the shallows being impressive but to really become a swimmer you ultimately have to find deeper waters.
And so there I sat among friends with whom I'd grown and changed and achieved. We're more apart nowadays than we were at one time but those people, I realised, will always be an indelible part of me and my life experience. I could sit at this table, devoid of current projects to brag about and yet if I wanted, I could write on a napkin the experience of eating a fluffy perfect plate of couscous among these cherished folk in this happy place, and it would convey in a few sentences a wealth of connection that years of churning out 'good ideas' to these same folk never had. With time and perspective on my side I had the awareness to sit back and just appreciate this moment. I could have, but didn't write on any napkins, I just absorbed a place and time and people along with a huge plate of heavenly sustenance with the texture of a cloud, and talked and listened until our fond gathering became a moment in my soul. I could understand and be able to convey in future, truths that if I'd been busy bragging about my latest great new idea I'd probably have been far too distracted and self absorbed to even appreciate.
So yes, I've been taking a break and I don't have much to say for myself and the movies and writing and may not for some time. And if that's a boring thing for those who would prefer to be entertained by me, if my life and my blog isn't very worthy of attention right now I will just suck up the mundanity of my existence. Because the other thing I'm sucking up is perspective, and with that time for silence taken, my Voice will eventually, I hope, become infinitely more resonant.
Until then..... the world is full of ordinary stuff to be touched and amazed by.