Picnic At Hanging Rock

Peter Weir's 1975 movie, that appears to have aged very well, that is being revived and popular in recent years. It is not without fault, but is a film of deep themes, well made.
The early shots use costume and non-backlighting to make the girls sink into the walls. This contrasted with the hugely exposed outdoor from the windows, and the red of the skin that burns throughout the whole film. This signals the main theme of the film; the female sexuality that explodes on the order, that can't be contained.
It is almost the image of the mythical ur-woman, the earth female who can't be portrayed on the screen. The English gentleman is the signifier for the filmmaker; who desperately attempts to capture some kind of view, but is left only with enigmatic traces. The scene of the cloth is the finest moment of the film, put perhaps this theme comes a little bit too quickly. The film is slightly too taken up with extreme expressionist angles, which can rather overcook it. We would rather this wasn't combined with the music also, leading to it being rather overdone on occassion.
Reading the signs of the female body are fascinating. The relations to cyclical time, the sexual organ symbols of the settings and props. There are good use of these, also in the character of Mrs Appleyard, who is a well set character, nicely set off against Queen Victoria in a dim nod towards colonialism.
The plot changes are interesting enough, largely quite readable after the initial problems (a late death). Perhaps even more mystery would have helped, but then that would have dpreived us of some fine late scenes of contrasting colours of the girl who can leave, and she who can't.
So, an impressive film, not perfect, but with many interesting compositions and themes.

Rabbit-Proof Fence

This 2002 film from Philip Noyce adresses an important film in a suitably verite style, but to be honest it holds little interest as a film.
We have a quick, slightly unrealistic with odd time lapses, (understandably) not very well acted story. It is moving, though there isn't much of a sense of weight behind the emotional moments. The beauty is a bit of an extraneous add on, as is the eagle spirit. This is a nice idea, and deeper exploration of the idea of a 'connection to the land' would have been appreciated.
This is a story that deserves and needs to be told, and we are happy it found the widest audience possible. Just, as a film, not much above adequate.

Samson & Delilah

Harsh, genuinely Beckettian and rather good, this grim parable about the destruction of the Australian aboriginal culture, through the destruction of the two titular characters, broadens out to have universal appeal beyond its immediate category.
There are very few lines of dialogue, rendering a sense of purposelessness, hopelessness, and rendering what speech there is as absurd. Samson's inability to speak is both a denunciation of the raping of aboriginal culture (a micking reminder for the disconnected victims), a symbol for the lack of possible speech in the absurd world, and a literal analysis of petrol-sniffing. The most powerful moments are when the title characters are victims of violence, this is just sheer pointlessness driven by anger and boredom, a simulacra for existential nothingness. The scene where the guitar's unpleasant feedback attacks the audience's ears, and the malevolent women with clubs, are especially noticeable.
The film's main subject is in many ways petrol sniffing, which is dealt with while at the same time it stands for something much wider. We never quite understand what it's like, why the experiences are so, which is an upside in that it can stand for more than just the phenomenological experience, and a downside in that it can all seem a bit odd and isolated (but only rarely, to repeat this is a very decent film). The story isn't hyper-real naturalism, it's a parable in many ways.
This film is confident and willing to go along with its own powerful premises, letting things slowly unfold. The shooting of the area is not exactly original, tracking shots of migrating birds etc, but the mundanity of what is usually shown as spectacular and life-affirming shows us how frankly pathetic the situation is.
Does this film cop-out at the end? The song is good, but not entirely appropriate. It is quite a sweet 'love story' at the centre, and this gives the film some compass, but maybe we would have preffered a sparser approach at the end.
The acting is not specially wonderful, although we should give kudos to Samson as the finest of the bunch. The fact that he looks so startling is partly a criticism that people of the race are never seen on screen, and partly of the film's brutal aesthetic couched in what should be beauty, but fails to be (to the film's thematic credit).
All told, this is an inteeligent and at times well made film. There are a few slight twinges towards cliches, but generally it is a spare, startling, ambitous and, to use that word again, confident film. Thumbs up.

The Oscar Nominated Short Films: Live Action

Five Films that run between seventeen and twenty two minutes, an ecletic mix of comedy, tragedy, and farce that were the academy's selections for the category this year.
Kavi: A bit of a Unicef advert, but an important call-to-attention of the human slavery business in India. It seemed a little like a number of even-tinier films tacked together, but had some fine shots and convincing performances. The music was delightfully different.
The New Tenants: A comedy/ farce that brings up a few laughs, and has one very arresting character (the druggy). However, it is not sharp enough to have consistent comedy, and tries to pack too much in, leaving an unsatisfactory and pretentious ending. Lacks the bite better direction could have given it.
Miracle Fish: Probably the winner we would have crowned, this establishes well and has a wondrous, dreamy quality to both the child's vision and the whole later scenes. Nicely enigmatic, shot with an eye to lighting effects, but quick enough for the format. It rather over-eggs the ending, but all told very impressive.
The Door: Undoubtedly the most boring to watch, and it is unrelentingly gloomy, easy to cast off with a big who cares. One was rather wishing for it to end. Despite this, the auteur would likely make the best feature film of the five. There are some wonderful, slow moving shots of the snow, the weary travellers passing through. Individual scenes, individual pictures (the ferris wheel, the entire packing-up scene) are nicely, calmly evoked. Perhaps with a more focussed sriptwriter, this could be a talent. Not a great short film though.
Instead of Abracadabra: Delightful, funny little piece of Scandanavian whimsy, with strong comedy of embarrasment (in an absurd manner) as well as some near-slapstick. It had cheery music, a bright and breezy aesthetic, and was the funnest to watch out of all the five. It also had an ability to make itself rather touching, the absurdity and silliness cloaking real characterisation. Impressive.
So, we have very different themes in all five, and if none really blew us away then all had some redeeming features. The winner, 'The New Tenants' was the wrong decision; it may not have been the worst to watch, but it was the worst made. We will watch out particularly for the directors of 'Miracle Fish' and 'Abracadabra', though we will also do so for the director of the rather dull 'The Room'.
Short Films are rarely seen, but are a terrific medium that should be brought out of the film school. To reflect on the use of images, slow or fast, to tell no story or a quick one, we look forward to having more experience of the art form.

Bright Star

Jane Campion's biopic of Fanny Brawn, Keats' lover (he obviously features hugely) is a traditionally plotted, but particularly well handled period romance. The language and setting don't get in the way of a fine romance that tightens, constricts the throats of the viewer, the throat heaves as the action must curtail to its inevitable end.
Wishart is suitably wan as Keats, Cornish plays a nicely down to earth Fanny Brawn. It avoids over modernisation, not casting an ironic eye on the mores but simply accepting them as constituent of the films reality. All of this doesn't make it much of a metaphysical experience; it's tied to the story, which is in many ways a largely traditional one in so far as cinematic romances go. Thus, we are forced, in a bizarre way, to follow the sorry to the slightly over wrought end.
However, as said this is a more than solid, occasionally beautiful picture in its evocation of the fields of Hampstead. Not ground breaking, but a fine, chest tighteningly clutching example of its craft.

Sweetie

Jane Campion's first directoral effort, released in 1989, is a funny little film that deserves a bit more thought thatn its surface may imply. The whole style is odd; the character's speak in stilted voices, the dialogue is pretty discontinuous. The narrative is dreamy, and at once grotesque, the portraits of mental illness always remaining funny and routed to the earth, while irredeamably different from the usual screen portraits of such a condition.
The metaphors, of trees and roots, seem initially heavy handed, but in hindsight don't make a lot of sense; which is a compliment, there are layers of forthrightness, not entirely logically explainable, to the character's enigmatic, often highly comic actions. The themes of children, adults acting like them, the ambiguity of the value of this trait, is an interesting exploration.
Well shot, it keeps its energy to the end, and at its best is screamingly funny. Quirky, by in the best way not attempting to be quirky at all.