Ch-ch-changes

Hello everyone
Apologies for the state of the header...the plan was to do something quite different, but then for some mysterious reason I couldn't upload the edited picture and put up this one instead. I guess it'll serve as a preview!
I will upload the better pic as soon as I can, but for now you can try and guess where this one comes from!
catch you soon, also with reviews,

xx
AV

Les Grandes Personnes- The Grown-Ups

As I have anticipated in my previous entry (and btw, sorry for the delay), The Grown-Ups by Anna Novion is a jem and I warmly recommend it!

Albert, a French single father, and his seventeen years old daughter Jeanne, arrive to an island in the Goteborg bay where they are planning to spend their holiday, a destination chosen mainly by Albert, who's on a quest to find a Viking treasure.
Upon arrival,they find out their accomodation is double booked and they will have to share the house they rented with two women. This unforeseen cohabitation, much welcomed by Jeanne, forces Albert to realise that his daughter is growing up and he cannot protect her for ever.

Personally, I really appreciated this film for its understatement and very much- felt humanity. Never do we, as viewers, feel inclined to judge any of the characters, but rather, we observe from a privileged point which allows us to understand the reasons behind their actions and empathise with them.

I smiled, and felt like seeing myself, when Annika hid behind a rock to see her ex's wife, or when Jeanne went crashing the rear light of the moped of a boy who let her down. I smiled because we've all been there, and that's what makes The Grown-Ups so enjoyable- the fact that, even if marginally, you feel a bit like the characters of the film.

In this story about growing up, Jeanne isn't the only 'grown-up to-be', but shares this process with the adults around her, finding out about life and herself as much as everyone else.

The film setting, lighting and photography all contribute in making this film special- a delicate tale of an everyday story, but a beautifully told one.

Promise

I will expand on The Grown Ups- Les Grandes Personnes asap (ideally tomorrow morning!), but I am too tired now. Let me just say that it was a jem, and I am so glad I went to see it!
Unfortunately I couldn't participate to as many Birds' Eye View events as last year- I spent a week at the ICA- I advise everyone to keep an eye on this festival because the selection of films I have seen there have been a significant contribution to my practice and coursework.
Their website is http://www.birds-eye-view.co.uk/
and I will be back soon, I promise!
x x AV

La Rabia

The sun is rising on the Argentinian pampa. A little girl with a red dress is standing still, the grass around her as tall as her.

This is the opening scene of La Rabia, a film by Albertina Carri which is part of this year's Birds Eye View (BEV) festival.
To me, La Rabia was a brutal film, and especially brutal because of its everyday violence. I am not talking of violence a la Tarantino, but of that which permeates daily life, forcing a child (Nati) to witness her parents' marriage disgregate, and being separated from her only friend after an argument between adults.

Nati holds everything within herself. Nati is mute (or autistic) and does not say a word, or prefers to keep silent.
Nati only speaks through her drawings (and here it is worth mentioning the animations that represent Nati's thoughts and missing words, stark black ink drawings which rapidly morph into more or less familiar shapes).
Nati will undress if she sees her mother having sex with another man, only to be told that it's not nice to see a girl walking around naked.
Nati will scream piercingly if something is not ok, only to be told not to make those terrible noises.
Nati will draw what she sees, only to be told not to make those dirty drawings again.
Nati will be laughed at for being mute, and will have her drawings torn.
Nati will continue seeing things she'd rather not, whilst everyone around her is too busy living their lives to think about the impact their actions could have.

La Rabia seems to be the name of a place near the old railway station, but it also means "the wrath". An anger as painful and piercing as one of Nati's screams.

The Tunnel

I know I had said this was going to be a blog about cinema, but then one sees a performance like The Tunnel and wants everyone to know about it- so, excuse this diversion of mine.
The Tunnel took place tonight at the Greenwich Cutty Sark pedestrian tunnel.
The Tunnel wants to be experienced individually, so if you go in a group, be prepared to be split from your friends, at least for a while.
The Tunnel works on a variety of levels, and references a multitude of things.
In the first place, tunnels are a space of passage, a connection between one place and another. This work, by forcing the viewer to be immersed in the space and experience it as such (which is, a space of its own, rather than somewhere 'in between' spaces), makes us, as viewers, look at the tunnel for the first time, so we notice its features, its flaws, its sounds. We see its dynamics, its inhabitants; we become acquainted with it enough to be able to identify who and what belongs to it, and what does not.
The Tunnel is about waiting. A tunnel is the space that reminds us of the time it takes us to get from here to there, from one side to the other; walking through it, our steps resounding against the walls, we become aware of the two sides, and of the temporal, as well as physical, distance that separates them.
The Tunnel is about intrusion. A tunnel is a man-made hole in the ground, a gallery that was not supposed to be there, a result of digging and mining and covering in concrete. The Tunnel and its spectators become intruders, alien presences in a space inhabited by daily commuters who are heading back home, cyclists in their high-visibility jackets, passers-by and joggers. As time goes by, however, roles reverse, and it is no longer the crowd of spectators who disrupts the everyday functioning of the tunnel, but rather the everyday tunnel users who become some sort of obstacle to the flow of the performance.
The Tunnel is about how we experience everyday places, and whether or not we ever stop and wonder where it is that we spend most of our time; it is about alienation, and how you can be alone even when surrounded by hundreds of people. The Tunnel is made of words that seem unclear, and of music that unsettles rather than pleases. The Tunnel is about a uterine journey, it is about an entrance and an exit, and a progress that might lead you to the end, or back to the start, or could even result in you lingering halfway, 'in between'.
The Tunnel is like walking inside a shell, descending the spiral staircases, the walls covered in white tiles; a violin string produces a sound that talks of known yet unfamiliar places; steps resound like ultramarine noises; people think they know each other, and are about to say something, but then they choose not to.



P.S. The Tunnel will be on tomorrow, Thursday 5th, at 8.30 pm at the Greenwich Cutty Sark pedestrian tunnel. Meet at the entrance on the Greenwich side. Email thetunnel09@yahoo.co.uk if you want to make sure you get in! More info at www.palimpsest.weebly.com
Check it out if you can!
AV

Slumdog Millionaire

The first film featuring on the blog will be Slumdog Millionaire, half of my double bill this weekend (not really a double bill, I've just been to the cinema twice!).
To be fairly honest I wasn't exactly dying to see it, but having had problems booking/making it on time to other films and being in a rather bad mood, I chose this as I eventually decided to go for 'something that at least won't depress me'. End of the disclaimer!
Slumdog Millionaire, like many other films, is a feature that depends entirely on the viewer 's expectations. If you want a real depiction of what India is, then I believe this is not what you might want (and, dare I ask, does a film that manages to portray India truthfully exist somewhere?). Slumdog does, however, acquaint us with some aspects of Indian life that perhaps we ignore, or choose to, such as the life of slum children and their frequent exploitation by opportunist adults (where 'opportunist' is a euphemism), the strive for a better life/social position, the quest for a way out, something that a TV quiz, among other things, can provide.
When it comes to the plot, I believe Salman Rushdie has preceded me in saying that it is unrealistic, to say the least, for the reasons we all know: how does a child from the slums learn perfect English, and get the opportunity not only to participate, but also to succeed at a TV quiz and find the love of his life in the meanwhile?
Yet, despite the plot being unrealistic and somewhat predictable, the protagonist's flashbacks (which assist him in finding the right answers at the quiz) open a window on India, a window that shows us the many orphans of religion wars, the process of growing up too fast, learning far too soon not to trust anyone and to make the most out of what you have, resorting to any mean in order to survive, with no other filter than your own conscience, and , perhaps, your own desperation. So, whilst Slumdog might be unrealistic per se, it surely does contribute in creating a vision of India that goes beyond the 'Bollywood versus mysticism' stereotype.
The mention to Bollywood brings about my final point. The plot (the hero finds the love of his life, but must go through all sorts of tribulations before he is reunited to her for ever) is classic Bollywood, and the dance which closes the film emphasizes that. Yet, it is interesting to see how Hollywood, which is the parameter which Bollywood sets itself against, references back to its Indian counter part. It is on this note on 're-appropriation' that I end my reflection and leave it up to your thoughts.

Bye for now,
AV

Début

Hello everyone, and welcome to my blog.
Ideally, it will become a space where to discuss films and the load of references and reflections they carry along with them.
As a spectator, I'd say I am omnivorous- I have quite eclectic taste in general and cinema is no exception. Yet, whatever the movie, I'd still rather engage with a film critically than passively being fed a feast of images, sounds and subliminal messages. Hence the name- Active Viewer.
That's it for now- I will hopefully be back tonight with another entry.
See you later,

AV