Selected Rev Reviews

Complete with special effects, ghosts and bizarre science-fiction contraptions, Revelation’s opening night film, Island of Lost Souls, is not as far removed from the Harry Potter school of thought as the festival’s programme would have you believe – not that that makes it any less enjoyable. A fantastical romp into the realm of the supernatural, this Danish feature follows the strong-willed Lulu as she attempts to free a 19th century ghost from the body of her younger brother. A healthy dose of self-referential quips help lighten the mood, while powerful performances from the child actors keep up the suspension of disbelief. It’s very much a children’s story, but free-spirited adults should find this film an enjoyable ride.

Those who demand more serious drama might be better off with the French film, Le France, a love story set against the grey backdrop of World War I. After Camille (Sylvie Testud), receives a dejected letter from her beloved soldier husband, she cuts off her hair and binds her breasts in the hopes of joining a passing regiment to find out what went wrong. Pleasantly devoid of any war film conventions, director Serge Bozon has approached this distinct historical period with a unique stylistic and narrative vision (for example, Beatles-inspired pop songs break up the soldiers’ wanderings). Although at times Le France does lag, and Bozon’s slightly disengaged treatment of the characters can get a little frustrating, the film offers lingering rewards. Quietly thought-provoking, it will leave you pondering its meaning for quite some time.

Out of the myriad of music documentaries on this year’s programme, The Weird Old America: Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music is a stand-out. An eccentric philosopher/filmmaker/painter, Harry Smith is most famous for releasing a box set of folk song re-issues in the mid-1950s, and inspiring a resurgence of interest in the genre throughout America. This documentary traces his life, his projects and his influence, as a new generation of folk artists gather to celebrate Harry Smith’s contribution through five tribute concerts. Though not particularly revolutionary in its form, The Weird, Old America… presents a balanced mix of interviews and archive footage with performances from Nick Cave, Beck and Sonic Youth, amongst many others. The film’s enthusiasm for folk music is infectious, and at the very least this is a must-see for fans of the genre.

Joy Division; Prague

This week, amongst a flurry of tunes, pizza and beer, Luna Outdoor will premier the documentary Joy Division. Riding fresh on the coat tails of Control’s recent success, one can confidently expect a large turn out for this, more rigorous, exploration of the Manchester band’s inspiring start and tumultuous decline – though the two could hardly be considered mutually exclusive. For starters, Joy Division’s director Grant Gee (who has previously worked on documentaries about Radiohead, Gorillaz and Scott Walker) has chosen to look more broadly at the context of the events. Through never-before-seen footage, audiotapes, personal photos and period films, Gee creates a collage that represents not only the band, but also their city and the musical/artistic movement that they belonged to. As the late Tony Wilson states in a voice-over that opens the film, the story of Joy Division is also the story of Manchester, and of a city awakened by their music. Indeed, it’s hard to watch the documentary without feeling drawn into the infectious punk atmosphere of 1980s Manchester, alive with new hope and music.

Strikingly intimate interviews with the surviving members of Joy Division, fellow musicians and musical icons, and even with Anton Corbijn (the director of Control) are slotted into the footage, adding detail and cohesion to the period collage. While many Joy Division ‘anecdotes’ (such as their famous meeting at Manchester Hall, their involvement with Tony Wilson and so on) have been milked dry by the double impact of Control and 24 Hour Party People, it is surprising to learn that these interview subjects still have something fresh to offer. Gee has directed them to speak with great sincerity and insightfulness – one notable example being the way in which the band members and Annike Honore (the Belgian journalist with whom Curtis had an affair) reflect upon how everyone seemed to ignore the darkness of Curtis’s lyrics. Similarly, it’s touching to see the Joy Division story carried beyond Curtis’s death, to look at the musical and cultural legacy that the band left behind them before going on to become New Order.

Rating: 7.1

Every film festival has to reach its nadir, and for PIAF’s Lotterywest Film Festival, it seems that point is Prague, which screens at Sommerville from next week. The latest film from Danish director Ole Christian Madsen (Kira’s Reason – A Love Story, Angels in Fast Motion) is a dark look at both the practical and emotional aspects of grieving, and how the two intermingle. Christoffer (Mads Mikkelson – After the Wedding, Casino Royal) and Maja (Stine Stengade – Kira’s Reason) are a couple of 14 years, whose marriage is tested when they travel to Prague to retrieve the body of Chrostoffer’s dead father. Having not seen his father since he was abandoned by him 25 years ago, Christoffer appears unfazed by the death, but is forced to leave his emotional plateau after Maja confesses to having an affair. Now trapped together in a city they both seem to despise, the couple share their final days amongst increasing levels of tension, while Christoffer simultaneously deals with his father’s lawyer, house-keeper and some ‘unexpected’ revelations.

Unfortunately, the surprises that send Christoffer over the edge are all too easy to spot from a mile away, while the extreme close-ups of a hand held camera (here an ear, there an eye) suggest a level of pretension at odds with the utterly predictable nature of the script. Madsen obviously thought he was creating something deeply moving, but whether it is the trite nature of his dialogue, or some less-than-perfect performances, at least two of the film’s central revelations were enough to send a ripple of groans/giggles through the crowd. While several scenes are genuinely emotional and thoroughly well-acted (particularly where Mikkelson is concerned), they fall flat when viewed in the context of the whole film. In the end, Prague makes a mockery of the deep themes it is presenting, and the emotional story that it is attempting to share.

Rating: 5.1

Crazy Love

Despite their relationship making tabloid headlines in the sixties, today very few people will have heard of Burt and Linda Pugach. And, despite Crazy Love being a documentary entirely about their relationship, initially, very little attempt is made to explain their significance to the audience. At first, Crazy Love feels boring and pointless – it presents a stream of unknown interview subjects discussing the seemingly insignificant and rather innocuous ‘early days of Burt and Linda.’ At this point, the most intriguing aspect of the film is the trashy appearance of these interviewees (complete with diamante-studded sunglasses and a fake tan that induced audible giggles from the audience). The film’s ability to lull its audience into a false sense of security, however, is actually what makes the ensuing developments so utterly surprising. In true tabloid fashion, this mundane exposition contrasts ideally with the shocking twists that are to follow.
To discuss these zany developments would be to undermine the film’s entire central premise and yet, at the same time, there does seem to be so much more to this film than the headline-worthy scandals it exposes. Director Dan Klores actually seems to push beyond the sensationalist gleam of the story to expose some humanity beneath it. His interviews weave through themes of love, loneliness, desperation and infatuation with a level of insightfulness that disables you from dismissively slotting Crazy Love between Woman’s Weekly and Life Magazine. The interviews with Burt and Linda (now in their 60s and 70s respectively) are particularly well-handled, with both individuals revealing a practical attitude to love that many will be able to relate to, but few will admit to. While there’s little to this film to suggest that it should be viewed on silver screen rather than on television, it is a surprisingly intriguing offering, which holds a particular relevance in a time when people are so interested in sensationalist tales that tabloid headlines often make it to our evening news (albeit not on all stations).
Rating: 6.9

Bomb Harvest

As a young Australian soldier, Laith Stevens once dreamt of signing up for the Gulf War. As an adult and a bomb disposal specialist now working in Laos, he has grown a very different perspective. Bomb Harvest is the Australian-produced documentary that tracks Steven’s work in Loas, as he trains a new Lao ‘big bomb team,’ and later travels around the country with them, in order to test their skills on live, dangerous bombs left in inhabited areas. With a ‘typically Australian’ informality and forthrightness, Laith is every filmmaker’s dream subject. He is almost immediately endearing, and thus relieves the film of its potential to verge into overwhelmingly heavy territory – something that director Kim Mourdaunt pushes further, by focusing upon the individual personalities of all members travelling in the team, and also upon the distinct cultures and traditions of Loas.

Simultaneously, though, this documentary maintains a grip on its more serious aspects. Asides provide an insight into one of Vietnam War’s lesser-known atrocities – the ‘secret war’ occurring across the border in Loas, named thusly because the American government of the time entirely denied its existence. Today, few people realise that Loas is the most heavily bombed area in the world. In particular areas, the number of dropped bombs actually exceeds the number of inhabitants. While pointing these facts out, Mourdaunt also cleverly breaks up the bomb team’s journey with news reports and presidential speeches from around the time of the Vietnam War, all of which echo today’s ‘just war’ rhetoric. Notably, there is no patronising narration present to point out the frightening comparisons. There doesn’t need to be; this movie’s footage speaks for itself. With only two screenings this weekend at Cinema Paradiso, it’s only a pity that more people will not be able to see the simple, but incredibly powerful, documentary.

Rating: 7.5

The 11th Hour

These days, it’s all too easy to get lost in the crazy haze of environmentally themed documentaries. Many a documentary is bound to disappear unnoticed, swept under the ever flowing current of inconvenient truths, electric cars and oil production bell curves. On the other hand, though, it’s really not that hard to guarantee yourself a place in popular consciousness. Essentially, all you need is a superstar narrator, and a collection of household names who can step in as your interview subjects. This formula is best exemplified by The 11^th Hour – a documentary that is hosted by none other than Leonardo DiCaprio, and features interviews with David Suzuki, Stephen Hawking and Mikhail Gorbachev. Throw in a frighteningly sensationalist montage of apocalyptic visions (more reminiscent of an action film than a documentary) and you’ve pretty much sealed the deal.

There’s certainly a lot left open to criticism in this film. Yes, the arbitrary choice of interview subjects is woeful, and the hysterical introduction is aggravating. And yet, there is another, far more impressive reason, to see and remember this film. The reason is that, unlike the mainstream of environmental documentaries, this one pushes through its own sensationalist agenda to deliver a note of hope. While An Inconvenient Truth merely skirted over the surface of potential solution, this film explores and celebrates our ability to alter the course of the future. It looks at environmental design, alternative fuels, and simple day-to-day savings that can make a difference, becoming, in the end, an uplifting and empowering celebration of both human and environmental potential. Here is a film that will not only get people talking, but will hopefully also inspire them to start doing. Try to see past Leo, because it really is worth it.

Rating: 7.8

Interview with Megan Spencer

Megan Spencer is the perfect poster girl for GenerationX. She reifies pop-culture as a deity, she explodes with awe for those who dedicate their life to the cultivation of an obsession and she finds poetic beauty in the seemingly mundane. “Pop culture replaced our god,” she laughs, without a hint of irony. “It replaced our children and our mortgages – for a while, anyway. And pop culture, in a sense, has replaced art. I don’t mean to sound like a philistine but I guess I find the most artistic gratification and profound poetic experiences usually through pop culture.”

Certainly, as Spencer herself admits, it takes a significant dose of “crazy one-eyed fandom” to centralise an entire career around a love of cinema, which is exactly what she’s done. In fact, Spencer has skipped through the entire spectrum of Australia’s film industry – as a reviewer for both radio and television, as the artistic director of Perth’s own Revelation Film Festival, and as a filmmaker in her own right, specialising in a raw, ‘guerrilla style’ portraiture.

No prizes for guessing the kind of subjects that Spencer chooses for her own documentaries. So far, she has consistently focused upon exploring the lives of passionate, unique individuals devoted to their personal obsessions. From fanatical AFL supporters to professional dominatrixes, Spencer has no qualms about entering social spheres that are far removed from her own, and from the realities inhabited by most of her viewers. In her latest DVD release, Lovestruck: Wrestling’s #1 Fan, she tracks almost ten years in the life of Sue Chuster, Australia’s most devoted wrestling fan.

Chuster doesn’t fit the expected demographic of a wrestling fan, and yet she’s dedicated the last 35 years of her life to the sport, has travelled to America twice in hot pursuit of wrestling superstars, owns over 4000 wrestling DVDs and videos, and has plastered her house shift in a make-shift wallpaper composed of over 4000 wrestling photos. It would have been dangerously easy for Spencer to adopt a condescending or ridiculing perspective with this film, but instead she has injected it with a warm, heartfelt and emotionally sensitive tone.

“If it was a superficial look at her, then it could have been become that, but that was never my intention. I wouldn’t want to make a superficial film about anyone. And I was determined to dig deeper with Sue and hang in there until that deeper reason presented itself. She is a bit more of an extreme figure… But I admire the way people can take something that is seen as banal or everyday or of no cultural value and turn into something that has enormous value, even if it’s just personally to them. I think those sorts of stories are really valuable and really entertaining and really reflective of who we might actually be.”

Unfortunately, Spencer believes that the heartfelt honesty with which she represented Chuster is also the reason why she had so much trouble obtaining funding from broadcasters and public boards. In the end, Spencer was restricted to releasing her television-friendly fifty-minute film through DVD – a not entirely regrettable decision, because it did allow her the space to include over thirty minutes of special features.

“I think [broadcasters] are scared of real people, and of not presenting them in a controlled way,” she elaborates. “In parts of Lovestruck, sometimes the subject is making the film and I don’t put in any voice-overs telling you how to receive it or react. And I think we have a pretty generic, formulaic approach to television documentaries in this country. I am generalising [but many directors]… try to clean their films up, and they end up second guessing their audiences which is something I refuse to do and don’t need to do and don’t want to do, and if it keeps me on the margins then I’m happy to stay there.”

Strummer: The Future is Unwritten

When Joe Strummer (the legendary front man of The Clash) passed away in 2002, his best friend, filmmaker and musician Julien Temple (of The Filth and the Fury), decided to immortalise Strummer’s life on celluloid with Strummer: The Future is Unwritten. If you’re looking for a film that exemplifies exactly how not to make a music documentary, then look no further. This is a perfect case in point. While it’s easy to understand why, it’s nonetheless disappointing that this film feels more like a eulogy than a documentary. Temple has gathered Strummer’s friends and associates around a campfire (a perplexing stylistic choice not explained before the film’s conclusion) and together they reminisce. These scattered reflections are largely sycophantic, and Temple clearly makes little attempt to paint a holistic portrait. Furthermore, for no apparent reason, none of the interviewees are identified, and so the patchwork of memories that they weave together feels more like a labyrinthine maze, made all the more confusing by the inclusion of token celebrities (Steve Buscemi, Johnny Depp, and, of course, Bono). This movie is long, repetitive, puzzling, self-indulgent and unyieldingly boring, which is a pity, because with some very simple clarifications, it could almost have been saved.

Rating: 3.8

The Simpsons Movie, Sicko, The US vs John Lennon

If ever there was a film that entirely satisfied expectations, that film would be The Simpsons Movie. If ever there was a film that totally evaded the (very real) threat of potential disaster, that film would be The Simpsons Movie. If ever there was a film that did not dare to inch at all beyond expectations, to push the envelope or to surprise, that film would be The Simpsons Movie. After twenty years, eighteen seasons and 400 episodes, this film brings nothing new to The Simpsons franchise, but it would be silly to suggest that this is in any way disappointing. After all, the movie does offer a fleshed-out insight into something warmly familiar. The plot development is much stronger than your average episode, and, once the usual digressions are disposed of, there’s a very pleasing, if predictable, narrative arc that the whole family can enjoy. And yes, there’s even a tiny slither of character development thrown in, just for good measure. This is no Citizen Kane (the storyline is catalysed by Homer’s decision to leaky silo of pig droppings into Lake Springfield), but, for what it is, The Simpsons Movie is just pleasing enough – a predictable romp through a world we know all too well, peppered by appearances from forgotten supporting characters, and driven by a fresh sense of humour that harks back to the earlier television seasons (the ‘classic’ years.)

Rating: 7.5


Sicko, Michael Moore’s latest exercise in documentary filmmaking, isn’t as spectacularly extravagant as his previous efforts. He still attacks relentlessly, this time striking the financially corrupt and morally bankrupt system of American HMOs, (Health Medical Organisations, or health insurance companies,) while also managing to direct some Republicans into the firing line. He still pushes the overtly emotive score and observes the circumstances through heart wrenching, personal, tear jerking experiences. He still pulls grand publicity stunts; this time travelling to Guantanomo Bay, the only place on American soil where medical aid is offered within a fair and just framework. And of course he still visits his favourite country, Canada, for a game of ‘compare and contrast’ (and this time also travels to England and France.) And yet, despite all these consistencies, the gaping difference is his own withdrawal from the spotlight. This is still distinctly ‘Michael Moore,’ but the very fact that we do not see his face until halfway through the film is indicative of the fact that he has at last taken a backseat, and finally allowed his material to speak for itself. This is his most maturely restrained, and therefore most convincing, effort yet.

Rating: 7.6


Yoko Ono is full of praise for the latest John Lennon doco, The US vs. John Lennon, and it’s not hard to see why. Amongst the expansive back catalogue of documentaries inspired by members of The Beatles, here is one that actually does not deplore her! In fact, this film practically reveres the woman, celebrating the many ways in which she inspired Lennon, and this is a surprisingly refreshing turn. This, however, is as far as the freshness goes. The interview subjects are varied (politicians, media personalities, musicians, activists and Ono herself,) but they seem to all be expelling the same well worn Lennon clichés. Some of the editing effects are just a little tacky, and their attempt to evoke tension falls on deaf ears. And, most significantly, although Gore Vidal alludes to it, there’s no attempt to look at the parallels between Vietnam and Iraq, and Nixon and Bush (an angle which would have made for a much more original documentary.) Overall, this is a powerful portrait of political passion (and if you have any doubts the interviewees will confirm this for you, over and over again), and it is a genuinely intriguing insight into a musical icon; however, as it titters so precariously on the verge of outstanding, it just lacks that extra impetus, or that edge of novelty, required it to push it out of staleness.

Rating: 7.0