Hey folks, Harry here. And all you folks up in Toronto... let's examine the bejeesus out of the films and cool stuff a going on up there. A lot of the major 'prestige' films are getting their kickstart there... and in New York soon. So let's get them reports in so we (the folks not so lucky to be attending) can hear about the jewels and the dirt. As for Anton.... Well... Just watch him go. There is nothing so beautiful as a highly motivated cool geek in action. Kick ass my friend. While I haven't seen LISBON, I have seen Gregg Araki's SPLENDOR at this year's SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST, and it did indeed kick much ass.
Thursday the 9th
I stare out over the lake, the morning sun glinting cheerfully on the poisoned waves- welcome back you potzer, it seems to say. Ah, Toronto, you old hag, it's good to see you too.
I turn away and look at the place Magdalena found for me- open, spartan, high white walls. Reminds me a little of home. Not that I care, really, since I'd be shocked if I spend more than three hours a day in here, but certain things are a comfort. I actually flew in Tuesday for the Tori/Alanis concert- poor Alanis, no way she should have been headlining that gig. Downed a couple with Tori, and she's as much a blast as ever- marriage hasn't dulled her edges at all.
Wednesday was spent acclimating myself to Toronto the Good once again- but I've seen beneath her petticoats, and her act doesn't fool me any more. Once plugged back in I was ready to party- oh, and see a film or two, of course.
The first day of the fest is traditionally a half-day, just so people can dip their toes in. Ran into Sarah Polley at the hotel- poor Sarah, she already looks miffed at all the fuss surrounding her. Then got on the phone with Miramax- Hayao Miyazaki is coming after all. Can't remember the last time I saw him, but I do remember that night in Kyoto… well, maybe I'll save that one for the memoirs. The big happening was of course the Opening Night Gala, Atom Egoyan's Felicia's Journey. The crème de la crème of Canadian Cinema were out in full force- and Robert Lantos too (sorry, big guy, couldn't resist.) But I'd seen it at Cannes (it's not as good as Exotica, but not the disappointment everyone over there thought it was) so I went elsewhere to feed my eyes.
Splendor was first- I'll try to squeeze in an interview with Gregg and/or Kathleen on the weekend, but no time to chat tonight! On to Lisbon, or more accurately the theater where its playing. Walking down the hall in the Varsity I bumped into all sorts of familiar faces, from Toronto fests past. We hard-core Toronto fest folk have an unspoken bond between us, and even though we may never have met we still know our brethren on sight (and, later in the week, on smell.) Then home to zip this off to Harry, and the night beckons! Maybe swing by Delux to start, then over to System, and Fluid- see who's up for dancing…
Lisbon (Spain/Argentina 1999, directed by Antonio Hernandez)
See, there I go, I durn went 'n' forgot one of the cardinal rules of European cinema- Spain can't produce noir. There's a lot of things they do very well- horror, sex romps etc. But noir? Fugeddabowdit.
You figure out where Lisbon is going (which is nowhere) pretty quick. Joao is Portuguese but works in Spain, selling porn videos to roadside bars (I will give the prop person props for slipping Mouse Hunt into Joao's stock.) He encounters a woman in peril (Carmen Maura, who gives the part more oomph than it deserves) who gradually entangles him in her troubles.
Lisbon is one of those films that is less than the sum of its parts. The performances are all decent or better (Laia Marull is a knockout in at least two senses), the dialogue is natural, and yet somehow it doesn't click. Part of the problem is in the details that the film gets, well, flat out wrong. There's no true femme fatale, for instance (both Berta and Veronica- Maura and Marull, respectively- share elements, but neither could be called Stanwyckian). Even the score is obtrusive and distracting in the beginning, before disappearing entirely a third of the way in. But most importantly, the film never puts Joao's soul, much less his life, in any real jeopardy. And when working in a genre like noir, a film must either respect the formula or purposefully shatter it (a la Bound.) It can't just drift away from it, which is what Lisbon ends up doing.
Moral of the story- Giving rides to strangers is a nuisance, and the Spanish can't do noir.
Splendor (US 1999, directed by Gregg Araki)
Which of these titles just doesn't belong here- Totally Fucked Up, Doom Generation, Nowhere, Splendor?
If you said Splendor you are WRONG, man. It's as much an Araki original as the others- same in-your-face art direction, same giddy interpretation of 'normal'. So what if it's (gasp) happy?
The plot seems vaguely familiar (but I can't quite put my finger on it) and revolves around a girl and two guys (one of whom is Jonathan Schaech) having lots of sex. But unlike Doom Generation there's no looming destruction fueling their hormones- both Abel and Zed genuinely love Veronica (big day for Veronicas at the fest- see Lisbon), and she genuinely loves them both back. Their courtship(s) make for some very funny stuff, and for a while everyone is (gasp) happy- that is, until Veronica comes down with a case of pregnancy. Then their idyllic little world comes apart at the seams.
Araki's trademark oddities are more subdued in Splendor, but they're still there, present in everything from V's best friend Mike (a lesbian artist who works in a junkyard) to RED and GREEN martinis in a BLUE restaurant. The difference is in the tone- Splendor is gentler than his previous films, and hearkens back to the comedies of the '30s, with a dash of Truffault thrown into the mix. It's not an out and out screwball, but Araki certainly takes some cues from that style of filmmaking, most notably in Kathleen Robertson's look throughout the film. She is shot, make-upped and dressed as though she were Merle Oberon, Greta Garbo and Vivian Leigh all rolled into one- and she gives a performance nearly to match. Her Veronica is far more three-dimensional than previous Araki heroines, insecure and brave and responsible and nutty and she is very plausibly someone two nominally straight guys would share.
No review of an Araki film would be complete without mentioning the kick-ass soundtrack- remixes of artists like the Cocteau Twins and Spiritualized by the likes of Moby and the Chemical Brothers. (There's the free plug I promised the Virgin folk I was sitting with.)
Don't be upset because nobody dies- Splendor rocks just as much as Araki's other films. And is it just me, or is his career arc starting to resemble that of an Angelino, MTV-generation John Waters?
Meanwhile....
Bonjorno, starkinder! Some more interviews are falling into place, so feel free to e-mail me questions for these fine folk at robbie_dogstar@yahoo.com
{CONFIRMED} Natasha Lyonne (HARRY NOTE: Say 'Hi' to Clea DuVall if you get a chance, and see BUT I'M A CHEERLEADER, Anton)
{TENTATIVE} George Romero
{TENTATIVE} Gregg Araki & Kathleen Robertson
{VERY TENTATIVE} Oh, whazzizname, that anime guy, you know, has that thing coming out, um, that genius, oh yeah HAYAO MIYAZAKI!!!!!!!!!
