195. CRAZY HORSE (dir. Frederick Wiseman, 2011) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

In LA DANSE, Wiseman explored behind the scenes of the Paris Opera Ballet for three years and the result was a hugely informative and engrossing documentary, albeit somewhat frustrating in its reluctance to let its audience really feel the time structure of the piece and understand how the ballet’s schedule moved from one production to the next. CRAZY HORSE is a much more simplified version of the same approach, pulling back the curtain on the famous Parisian nightclub, famed for its gorgeous nude dancers and innovative routines. There is no need to understand how much time is taken developing new musical numbers, and because of the brevity of each piece Wiseman spends far more time letting te dancers and the results of their labours speak for themselves. Not for the shy or modest viewer, there is no mistaking that this is a film about nudity and the beauty of the female form and as a result more than earns its Category III rating. That said, the film never feels sordid or Wiseman’s camera leering, and as a result there is little reason for audiences to feel embarrassed or shameful when watching this 150-minute parade of pert breasts and pronounced posteriors. Rather, CRAZY HORSE is a far more affordable way of experiencing the club for oneself, while getting a rare glimpse of the mechanics of such an establishment, from the choreography classes to frantically rushed rehearsals, to auditions and the inevitable tussles between the creative and financial interests of such a business enterprise. Fascinating viewing. 

194. MODEST RECEPTION (dir. Mani Haghighi, 2012) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

This was a film I stumbled into completely by mistake, knowing nothing more than it was also from Iran. The film is the story of a rich couple, driving through one of the most desolate and war-ravaged regions of the Iranian wilderness, in a car packed full of money. Their trunk contains fifty clear plastic bags of newly printed banknotes, which they proceed to distribute among the poor inhabitants whom they encounter along the way. Who are Leyla (Taraneh Alidoosti) and Kaveh (director Haghighi)? Are they a married couple? Are they colleagues? Brother and sister, perhaps? And more pressingly, where did they get this money from and why are they distributing it in such a slapdash and incredibly insensitive manner? Have they stolen it? Are they on the run? Are they in fact crazy? All of these questions tease at the audience as we follow these characters on their increasingly bizarre mission. The result is a film that grips you from its opening moments and refuses to let go. Energetic, humourous, stylish and shocking, this is perhaps the closest thing to a genre film to have come out of the Iranian New Wave and one of my favourite discoveries of the festival! 

193. THIS IS NOT A FILM (dir. Jafar Panahi/Mojtaba Mairtahmasb, 2011) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

Hailed around the world for directing such films as THE WHITE BALLOON, THE MIRROR and OFFSIDE, Panahi has been arrested and harassed numerous times by Iranian authorities. In late 2010 he was sentenced to 6 years house arrest and awarded a 20-year ban on filmmaking, scriptwriting or giving any kind of interview to the foreign or domestic press. THIS IS NOT A FILM is a document shot by Panahi and his friend Mairtahmasb at Panahi’s home on the day he is due to hear the result of his appeal. He remains good humoured about his plight but nevertheless seems unable to bear this stifling of his artistitry and endeavours to do “something” about it with his friend. At first he tries to read aloud and reenact one of his completed but unfilmed screenplays, only to quickly realise that “telling” a film is a fruitless exercise. As such their conversation becomes as much an examination and deconstruction of filmmaking and the identity and strength of the artform as it is Panahi treading a very fine line between making a film and merely having his thoughts caught on film. THIS IS NOT A FILM is by its nature an incredibly personal project, but also a larger expsose on the state of Iran. It is frequently humourous, but also moving and incredibly powerful, albeit on the surface little more than one man killing time in his apartment. 

192. THE MUPPETS (dir. James Bobin, 2011) (Bluray)

A delightful film that loses nothing on repeat viewing. The knockout musical numbers are the perfect complement to this intelligent dissection of childhood, nostalgia, growing up, letting go and finding your true place in society. Quite possibly the best Muppet movie ever made.

191. TAKE SHELTER (dir. Jeff Nichols, 2011) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

It seems that every self-respecting film critic and cineaste has already seen - and loved - Nichols’ second feature. If I am completely honest, when it had its single screening at Fantastic Fest last September I had never heard of it and felt under no obligation to cram it into my schedule. The minute that screening finished, however, I realised my mistake and have spent the last 6 months+ hearing nothing but grade A praise for the film and for Michael Shannon’s commanding lead performance. It was with no small degree of trepidation, therefore, that I finally sat down to watch the film this afternoon, expecting that after all the hype and high praise I would witness a solid, well put together yet low-key drama that would impress but inevitably fail to live up to its reputation. The great news is that TAKE SHELTER is an excellent film. It is small, it is (for the most part) quiet, and it is somewhat low-key, but it nevertheless flexes muscles all too rarely seen in American indies of this scale. Shannon is every bit as impressive as I had heard, as the simple, non-communicative husband and father in a happy blue collar family, who is slowly crushed by his own insecurities and an unwieldy feeling of dread and apprehension for an impending tragedy that he is unable to adequately visualise or comprehend. Jessica Chastian continues to impress in everything and does a wonderful job of standing by her man when many other women would have fled for the hills, the church, the in-laws or anywhere but her howling, moaning hubby. It is Nichols’ inventive direction, however, that is the biggest winner here, drawing his audience in slowly over the course of two hours, making them laugh, cry and recoil in terror, before delivering a finale that is as surprising as it is inevitable and quite sublime.

190. TABU (dir. Miguel Gomes, 2012) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

I had no prior knowledge of writer-director Miguel Gomes or his work going into this film, save for hearing that this was one of the most highly-praised yet divisive films of this year’s Berlin International Film Festival. Apparently references are made to F.W. Murnau’s film of the same name, but having not seen that film they were all but lost on me, save for the fact both films deal with the impact of colonial life and are split into two sections, entitled “Paradise” and “Paradise Lost” (although the segments are named the other way around in Gomes’ film). The film is a portrait of an elderly dame, Aurora (Laura Soveral), living a hermit’s lifestyle in her Lisbon apartment, with only her maid and a nosy neighbour aware of her existence. When she passes away, her two female acquaintances learn about her exotic and romantic life, living in the colonies of Africa and her torrid love affair with a young hunter. Frankly the magic of this film was somewhat lost on me, told through extended flashbacks with recounted dialogue, the film had a Wes Anderson-esque air of pastiche and whimsy that I’m not entirely sure was intentional. Much of it felt like “Steve Zissou’s African Adventure” and only the plight of Aurora’s underused pet crocodile held my interest.  

189. SNOWTOWN (dir. Justin Kurzel, 2011) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

I had heard nothing but rave reviews of this film following its screening at Fantastic Fest last September, but had been unable to squeeze it into my schedule back then, or indeed at any other time until right now. Perhaps not the most appropriate film to watch on my birthday, but I figured that even in its grimmest moments I would at least appreciate the film’s technical merits and feel my time had not been wasted. Based on the true story of Australia’s most prolific serial killer, John Bunting (here portrayed by Daniel Henshall), the film is a stripped down and unflinching depiction of sadism, brutality and manipulation that refuses to make things easy for its audience. Lucas Pittaway gives an incredibly sympathetic portrayal as the teenager whose world collides with neighbourhood vigilante Bunting after being abused by his mum’s new boyfriend, only to get sucked into a hellish new life with seemingly no way out. The performances are all great and the deadpan execution is reminiscent of John McNaughton’s HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER. However, a few indecipherable voice messages and unidentifiable bodies along the way prevented me from unreservedly enjoying this difficult yet impressively staged film.

188. SMALL CHANGE (dir. Francois Truffaut, 1976) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

I share my birthday with the French New Wave auteur, or I would had he not already shuffled off his mortal coil. In celebration of what would have been his 80th birthday, HKIFF presented a beautiful looking print of this 1976 classic. Set during the summer holidays in the small French town of Thiers, the film follows the children, parents and teachers of this community in a number of episodic adventures, ranging from an elaborate mission to get food to an abandoned young girl, to sneaking into the movie theater, to a nerve-jangling sequence as a neglected toddler follows his pet cat out onto the window ledge of his top floor apartment. The performances are uniformly excellent and the film maintains a whimsical and good-natured tone, even as it embraces such themes as neglect, child abuse and poverty. A film I was totally unaware of before today, it now ranks as one of my favourite in the director’s generous body of work. 

187. TAXI DRIVER (dir. Martin Scorsese, 1976) (Hong Kong International Film Festival)

What is there left to say about Scorsese’s seminal tale of urban alienation and misguided vigilantism? Robert De Niro gives one of his most iconic performances as Vietnam veteran-turned-insomniac cabbie Travis Bickle, whose attempts to integrate back into society and play nice with Cybill Shepherd backfire horribly, sending him on a murderous crusade to wash the filth off New York City’s streets. Seeing the film in its newly restored form in front of a packed crowd of both adoring fans and - from the reactions it was getting - a good percentage of first-timers was a revelation. Already one of my absolute favourite films, Scorsese’s Palme D’Or winner revealed itself to be funnier than I had remembered, as well as brooding, brutal and just flat-out incredible in almost every department. A masterpiece in the truest sense of the word.

186. MONTY PYTHON’S LIFE OF BRIAN (dir. Terry Jones, 1979) (DVD)

In preparation for an appearance on The Criterion Cast, I watched this for the millionth time. As good a contender as any for best comedy ever made, its combination of sketches, slapstick, wordplay and farce complement each other in fine style and are executed to perfection by the Flying Circus troupe. Genius.