Monday
After my first, somewhat disappointing, day at the International Film Festival Rotterdam 2006 last thursday, today proved to be very satisfying.
Dusted
The compilation of experimental short films was based on the state our planet is in. This is no Koyaanisqatsi, however, but mostly video works. There were several great films here, most notably the wonderful ‘Kosmos’ by Thorsten Fleisch (which was somewhat reminiscent of Brakhage’s hand-painted films), but Ken Jacobs’s ‘Krypton is Doomed’ was the highpoint here. One of his wonderful Nervous Lantern works, very much in the same vein as the DVD ‘Salvaging Noise’ I reviewed for Beaver here:
http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews19/Celestial_Subway_Lines_dvd_review.htm
Of course lots of throbbing light flashes and slowly changing light patterns, but no music this time: there was a zany ‘40ish radio play instead, which resulted in a pretty strange experience. The whole experience was even stranger because I was sitting front row, very close to the screen. With a normal narrative film it would have been almost impossible to follow what was going on, but I felt that with these kinds of visual experimentation it really added something to the overall experience, because the absorbing effect and disillusionment it produces was even greater. Unfortunately lots of people walked out on this one.
Digital Short Films by Three Filmmakers
This program, commissioned by the Jeonju Film Festival, brought together three short films by interesting Asian filmmakers. The first filmmaker was the reason I attended this screening:
Worldy Desires (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, 2005)
The three films by Apichatpong Weerasethakul (‘friends call me Joe’) are certainly among the strangest and fascinating films I’ve seen in the last two years (especially ‘Blissfully Yours’ and Tropical Malady’ of course), so expectations were high for this one. Sadly, I’m not sure if these expectations were met. Joe returned to the forest from his last film ‘Tropical Malady’ with two film crews: one before and one behind the camera. The result is certainly comparable with his other films (long static takes, very strange, almost inexplicable situations, off-screen conversations etc.), although there are differences. Most strikingly, there’s a catchy pop song that’s performed several times by some girl, with four girls dancing around her. The idea behind this escaped me, but that’s the feeling I had with this whole film: I didn’t know what Joe was trying to say. While detachment seems to be the key factor in his work, this film seems even more reserved and alienating than usual, never really opening up to me. I know, on the other hand, that Joe’s films tend to haunt you for days and it is only days after the first experience with the films that you start to understand and appreciate them. So, I don’t want to dismiss this film too easily, because it could be an interesting development in the career of what could become a major filmmaker.
Haze (Shinya Tsukamoto, 2005)
I’m not all too familiar with the films of Tsukamoto, having seen only ‘Tokyo Fist’ and ‘Gemini’. But this film most certainly finds the ‘Japanese hybrid between Lynch and Cronenberg’ working at his peak. A man wakes up and finds himself trapped in a claustrophobic space and tries to find a way out. Consisting almost exclusively of close-ups, the film really gets the claustrophobic feel right and is an almost physical experience for the viewer. Tsukamoto’s trademark combination of psychological and body horror works extremely well here and it’s the best work I’ve seen from him to date.
The Magicians (Song Il-Gon, 2005)
Never heard of this director and judging by this film I doubt I will ever hear from him again. Not necessarily a bad film, but nothing special either.
Filmmaker in Focus Stephen Dwoskin (whose work I, ironically, won’t be seeing this festival, although I’m planning on buying the newly released DVD Box – anyone here familiar with his work?) selected some of his favorite avant-garde films for this program, called ‘Freeing it Up!’ It turned out to be quite something, especially because all the works were new for me.
A Movie (Bruce Connor, 1958)
This famous found-footage film is a classic in its genre, and justifiably so. I have a special place in my heart for these kinds of films and this proved to be no exception. I had only seen Connor’s ‘Take the 5:10 to Dreamland’ before, which didn’t do much for me, but ‘A Movie’ was truly beautiful.
Sirius Remembered (Stan Brakhage, 1959)
I’ve never made it a secret that Stan Brakhage is one of my truly favorite filmmakers, so I was very excited to see this film included, especially since it’s been exactly a year since I’ve seen his work projected. It began with the characteristic handwritten title and everything turned out to be vintage Brakhage. In this film, Brakhage filmed a dead dog lying in a forest and we see the animal decomposing before our very eyes. Brakhage succeeds brilliantly in turning a morbid subject into pure poetry and art, all in his self-invented cinematic shorthand. I love his maniacally moving handheld camera and frantic editing, which together produce the effect only Brakhage could seem to achieve. Seeing this film made me realize that Brakhage may be among the finest and most distinctive editors, ever. Again I fell in love with his work.
Lune (Tonino De Bernardi, 1968)
Italian filmmaker De Bernardi was present at the screening and explained that this film is actually only a fragment of a much longer film. ‘Lune’ is something of a study of faces, with several layers of film superimposed on each other. The most striking feature of it was the fact that the frame seemed to be completely static and every kind of movement was invoked within the frame itself. The result was quite spell-binding, I must say.
6/64 Mama und Papa (Kurt Kren, 1964)
My first Kren film (I still have to pick up these two Index DVD’s). This very short film is based on an actionist happening and features several naked bodies, on which paint, flower and all kinds of things are splashed upon. The result was as ludicrous as it was fun.
Anamnesis (Frans Zwartjes, 1969)
Nothing could have prepared me for what I was to undergo with this brilliant film. Although I’m Dutch I hadn’t seen any films by Frans Zwartjes before, but boy what a film this is! Echoes from Caligari (especially in the evocation of madness and gloom) can be found throughout the film, but I’m told this film is ultimately typical of Zwartjes’s style. Superb black and white cinematography is accompanied by a phenomenal soundtrack and the result is as breathtaking as they come. Thank god there was a short intermission after this film, because I really needed some time to recover from this very remarkable film. I will definitely try to find more work by Zwartjes, because if this film is any indication of the rest of his work, I will be in heaven.
Pull my Daisy (Robert Frank, 1959)
This Jack Kerouac penned and narrated short film is a classic of the Beat Generation. While I’m certainly sympathetic towards this movement, this film left me completely cold. I don’t know what it was, but it didn’t do anything for me.
Flaming Creatures (Jack Smith, 1963)
The film I’ve been waiting for all day, this infamous sleaze fest from Jack Smith, a film I’ve wanted to see for a very long time. Well, what to say about it? It’s very hard to say anything about this utterly strange film, except that it really got under my skin. At a certain point I was wondering ‘What the hell am I watching here’?! And moreover ‘Why am I watching this?!’ I think it’s exactly this feeling that Smith tried to accomplish with this film and he certainly did accomplish that for me. The film clocks in at 45 minutes, but I watched the film like I was in a trance, not completely following everything that went on up on the screen, but endlessly fascinated nonetheless (this feeling was probably considerably aided by the fact that I’ve been watching film for almost 7 hours at this point, practically non-stop). As Adam already remarked, the print was indeed very botched: the image was pretty damaged and hazy (I barely could read the credits) and audio was pretty weak too (it was virtually impossible to hear the narration at the beginning), with several dramatic drops in volume, which was all part of the Jack Smith aesthetic. I’m very pleased to have seen this canonical underground film at long last, although I'm still wondering about it. I will reread Rosenbaum on this one tomorrow.
Labels: avant-garde, IFFR, Ken Jacobs