The Carnival is Over.

After 13 films the one thing which I have noticed most about the festival is how tired it made me. I'd get up the day after having seen a few films and just want to sleep and sleep. I had tickets to a lot of films that I didn't even use this year. Time for more fitness training before next year's.

Highlights for me this year were three films in particular. Me and You and Everyone We Know, The Ninth Day, and A Dirty Shame were all highlights.

The Magician, and Voices of Iraq were also real surprise packets.

I'd recommend that anyone see these films should they get the chance.

Far and away the worst was the horrendous A Hole in My Heart and the still painful to recount Pickpocket. Both terrible.

This last post caps off what has been a writing workload that I could done without, but I've enjoyed the chance to become amateur reviewer for a few weeks.

Two things before I go.

I write here normally, it's got a tertiary flavour but a pleasant aftertaste.

And, you should also check out this site if you're after up to date movie reviews.

Cheers, le Student.

Monday morning feels so bad...

...everybody seems to naaaag me.

Last Friday of the festival, and once again Melbourne has experienced an awesome turn of weather. It's hard to convince yourself to spend this time in a cinema, but sometimes you have to make a sacrifice for your blog reading public (wouldn't kill some of you lurkers to shout out once in a while, snobs).

Alas, I digress. Films must be watched, reviews must be written, sappy recent Ben Harper must be listened to in the confines of the festival club's subterraenean Forum floor.

Having skipped the 1pm session, because, I'm like a ROGUE FILM WATCHER, I'm about to head into the 3pm session at ACMI. I've just done some shopping at some of Melbourne's excellent clothing retailers.

(I am so much better than Lavinia Nixon, but I clearly don't have the figure, blonde locks, non offensive smile, and female genitalia for her job. But, on the upside, I dont have to endure the fawning of Ed Phillips. What a cockknocker. I hope you're reading this Ed, you're the sort of toss who'd google search his own name. So go ahead Ed, bite the big one, everyone thinks you're a right cock. In short Ed, I rock - you suck. End of story.)

It's time to queue up and be pleasantly disaapointed.

Pickpocket

What a terrible movie.

There are times during which I suspect that films are selected for no reason other than for the climate and style in which they were made, and not whether they could be even remotly interesting or entertaining. The following two phrases from the MIFF guide would seem to sum up precisly what is wrong with this 107 minute trainwreck:

"Made well outside the state system..."

"...a superb non-professional cast..."

Not only was Pickpocket not any good, it was terrible. This was a full frontal assault upon an unprovoked audience. From the 1930's film quality to the consistantly horrendous background noise of car horns, mobile phones, or a singing cigarette lighter of all things, the film blew chunks in no uncertain terms.

Painfully slow and seemingly deliberatly abrasive, Pickpocket tells of a down and out Xiao Wu, his trade as a pickpocket, his adventures in big city China...and not much else.

Avoid this film at all costs, the fate of common sense is at stake.

1/5 spring rolls.

The Education of Shelby Knox

A popular choice at this year's festival, The Education of Shelby Knox tells of one opinionated teenagers crusade against her district's stance on sexual education in school's.

Lubbock Texas has the highest rate of teenage pregnancy, and sexually transmitted diseases. It also features some of the most insanely over the top people walking the planet, not least of which is abstinence crusader Rev Ed Ainsworth.

Shelby Knox herself is committed to being chaste until marriage, as part of the True Love Waits program run by the good Reverend Ainsworth. However, as Knox falls deeper into the clutches of local underage student politics via the Youth Commission, she develops a stance on sexual education in schools which is at odds with her parents, her reverend, and the wider community.

An interesting subplot throughout the film is the byplay between her and fellow Youth Commission voicebox Corey Nichols. I'm sure I wasn't alone in assuming from the very start of this film that following her commitment to wait till she is married before having sexual relations, that she would then shag the consummatly dough faced Nichols.

Alas, this outspoken teenager beast with two backs never eventuated.

This film was well worth the admission fee, and provided more than enough awkward laughs to settle even the most unimpressed documentary watchers.

3.5/5 Breezers.

The Last Mitterrand

Becoming an unlikely socialist French President in 1981, Francois Mitterrand led France until shortly before his death in 1996.

This two hour French epic tells of the President's dying days, as he tells his political story to the crestfallen Antoine Moreau, his biographer.

Overwhelming lonely, yet content and verbose, the film allows the audience to delicately care for the ailing Mitteranrd, as he slowly succumbs to prostate cancer.

No doubt this film would have more meaning to someone with a greater knowledge of French politics than myself, but the film had enough going for it to keep your watching for it's 120 minute duration - not least of which was the red hot Judith, the love interest who nets a harried Moreau.

The confused Moreau confronts his Hero in Mitterand, challenging him about the detail of his days during the Vichy reign of France, and his complicity with the Nazi's.

I could easily see how someone could walk out this bored and unentertained, but I enjoyed the film not least for it's historical content.

For me, 4/5 crepes.

Me and You and Everyone We Know

Comprising of many characters, thrown together in a mess of ugly interaction, Me and You and Everyone We Know is the work of artist Miranda July, who wrote, directed and defiantly starred in this witty and all together sweet film fundamentally about love.

It's hard to describe exactly what makes this film work so so well, or what sees July turn her character from painfully awkward to lovable muse - but what can be said for sure is that every role in this film is acted perfectly, right down to it's most minor, most giddy roles.

The film is highlighted by the character of separated show salesman Richard, who is the unwitting love interest of performance artist Christine, played by July. His role in raising his kids never sinks into weak sympathetic fluff for the audience to gobble up, instead he is plainly disfunctional, and his two boys know it.

I absolutely want to see this film again, and suggest that everyone who has the chance to sees it themselves, just once, or maybe again and again.

4.75/5 waters.

...macaroni.

SAULD!! HOUT!!

Running late after an engagement I could have have completly gone without having been at, I made it into the festival ticket office just in time to purchase a ticket to Rash, only to have the smug faced wanker bitch behind the counter tell me that it was sold out - but I didn't hear 'sold out' - I heard 'sshshssh.....t'.

So I asked her to repeat herself, at which point she loudly proclaimed:

"SAULD!! *breath* HOUT!!"

I should have smacked her over the head with my trusty festival guide, but instead I saw a flick at the Forum for this festival...

The Magician

Despite my apprehension at seeing this film, and fears that it might not live up to the modest hype surrounding it, I was floored by The Magician's down to earth nature and warm intentions.

Despite being a film about a hitman, being shot in Melbourne, featuring local actors, and having had Bernard Curry IN A BANDANA in the audience, this film was excellent. Telling of hitman Ray and his travels, the excellent acting of lead Scott Ryan is the catalyst for a story that grows on the audience and turns a simple tale into an loving examination of the hitman's life and actions.

His relationship with the camera man is the highlight for the film, as they prove the perfect foil for each other. Starting at either extreme, as violator on one hand and innocent bystander on the other, as the film draws on, each begins to assume the role of the other in small increments.

There isn't a lot that can be said for this beyond 'see it when you get the chance.'

4/5 big m's.

Shout Out

For those of you looking for a review by a real person of a film you're thinking about seeing, and are dismayed by this blog's distinct lack of actual movie going, you should check out this blog, miff05.blogspot.com!

A Dirty Shame

I don't know how exactly this John Waters film worked, I'm not sure how a collection of actors including Tracy Ullman, Chris Issak, Selma Blair and an astoundingly good Johnny Knoxville, managed to make this film work so well.

Centered around suffering housewife Sylvia Stickles, played by Ullman, the story tells of a community under siege by the sexually aware, forcing themselves upon the innocent. With well placed nods to the anti communist films of America's 50s, the film pits the sexually aware 'sex addicts' led by Ullman's Stickles against the wowsering 'Neuters', led by Stickles mother, the angry Big Ethel.

The film pulls at the threads of religious revivalism, encouraging the viewer to giggle slyly at every innuendo and simulated sex act along the way.

The films roaring final act is preceded by the meeting of 'Sex Addicts Anonymous' in which Syvia's sponsor encourages her to:

"Make a list of everyone you have fucked... and apologise to their parents."

Featuring a pop culturally well placed cameo by David Hasselhoff, this initially slow film just rolls on and on, drawing the audience into it's saucy cinematic foreplay, whispering into it's ear that if it just relaxes, 'it'll enjoy it, I promise.'

4.5 banana flavoured lattes out of 5.

The Waiting Game

During last year's MIFF, I waited in a queue at Village Bourke St for some considerable time, as a seemingly endless array of Metallica fans, some in Metallica T's, filed out of the cinema after having just seen Some Kind of Monster.

Tonight was no different, as the queue stretched out and beyond the cinema, as the film before Look Both Ways ran late.

Standing in a queue like this, and for so long, affording me a prolonged period of people watching, and the chance to listen into the conversation that a clearly suffering older university lecturer type bloke behind me, and a .... hag were having.

Hag:"When you're interested in arts, it's as if you aren't treated like a person."

Uni Dude:"Um...okay."

And in front I had the retro dressed collection of social misfits, who huddled together in the interests of self affirmation and mutual support in the face of society's disinterest in the painfully self absorbed. They were a hoot, from old blue suit and a needless ugly tie ponytail guy - to - all dressed in black pit hair ruffled blouse obsessive cant let anyone else talk and showing off handbag uninterested boyfriend - to - self arbsorbed conversation about herself and didn't say hi to the people she was just introduced to - these guys almost created a vapid aren't I impressive vacuum, threatening to suck all the 'humble' out of the room.

Eventually, thankfully, we were let into the movie.