CRIMSON PEAK

Stars: Mia Wasikowska, Tom Hiddleston, Jessica Chastain, Charlie Hunnam, Jim Beaver and Leslie Hope.
Writers: Guillermo del Toro and Matthew Robbins.
Director: Guillermo del Toro.

Rating: 2.5/5

Genre god Guillermo del Toro’s grand but grating gothic melodrama Crimson Peak is rich in indulgent style but as prone to inconsequential substance as the ghoulish spectres that sporadically manifest.

Such a shortcoming need not be the death knell for a supernatural thriller; plenty have favoured good time frights over thematic complexity. But having established a turn-of-the-century heroine in Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), whose ambition to write smart horror posits her as a gender pioneer, the revered horror auteur bends to suit his favourite old-school tropes, reducing her to a shrieky ‘final-girl’ stereotype at best. At worst, she becomes a mere redemptive tool for Tom Hiddleston’s milquetoast fancy-lad, Thomas Sharpe. It is this lack of narrative ambition that reduces Crimson Peak to an uninvolving nod to horror's 'golden era', instead of the vibrant, modern retelling it could have been.

The film’s creepiest moment happens in the opening minutes, when the ghastly visage of a young Edith’s recently deceased mother returns to forewarn, “Beware of Crimson Peak”; why the maternal spirit (played del Toro regular, legendary movement artist Doug Jones) would take such a terrifying form to revisit her little girl is the first of many logical incongruities that curse the film. We next meet Edith as the well-to-do but independent young woman struggling to break free of her kindly, capitalist father, Carter (Jim Beaver), hawking her first manuscript but butting heads with chauvinist traditionalists.

Her dashing knight arrives in the form of Hiddleston’s entrepreneur who, having failed to secure Cushing’s financing, woos Edith in the wake of a family tragedy and whisks her away to his crumbling English estate, Allerdale Hall. Here, under the snarly glare of his nefarious sister Lucille Sharpe (Jessica Chastain, chewing what’s left of the decrepit home’s scenery), Edith uncovers dealings that reveal The Sharpe’s sinister past and their plans for her alarmingly truncated future.

Scripting with the usually reliable Matthew Robbins, a longtime collaborator (Mimic, 1997; Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark, 2010) and industry veteran (The Sugarland Express, 1974; *batteries not included, 1987), Del Toro structures a plot of gossamer flimsiness, clearly designed as a nod to the Giallo genre and Hammer oeuvre (note the protagonist’s surname) but barely able to inject any sense of dread into the labourious proceedings. Save the aforementioned apparition and two moments of ‘that’s more like it!’ ultra-violence, the 119-minute running time proves to be the Mexican director’s cruellest indulgence.

Del Toro the writer entirely cedes this production to del Toro the conceptual artist. From the muddy streets and mansions of Buffalo, New York, to the multi-tiered, majestic ruin that is Allerdale, del Toro’s vision is brought beautifully to life by art director Brandt Gordon (Total Recall, 2012; the soon-to-be-released Suicide Squad) and two-time Oscar-nominated production designer Thomas E Sanders (Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1993; Saving Private Ryan, 1999). When the overripe dialogue and stodgy pace prove tiresome, there is always a great deal of artistic detail upon which the eyes can feast.

The ghostly matriarch’s foretelling comes to pass (to no one’s surprise, rest assured) when it is revealed that the locals often refer to Allerdale Hall as ‘Crimson Peak’, after the blood red clay upon which the estate is built. As winter falls and the soil swells with moisture, the grounds turn a corpulent scarlet. So, it’s just mud, that looks gory, but is not at all gruesome or sinister or even very interesting. Such a bloodless, messy foundation seems particular fitting.

It was a similarly vast but vacuous vision that left so many ambivalent towards his last effort, Pacific Rim. The director, whose one true masterpiece Pan’s Labyrinth is nearly a decade old, may find himself teetering on the edge of irrelevance in the wake of his latest.

ALEX & EVE

Stars: Richard Brancatisano, Andrea Demetriades, Helen Chebatte, Tony Nikolakopoulos, Zoe Carides, Simon Elrahi, Millies Samuels, Alex Lykos, Ryan O’Kane, Rahel Romahm, Nathan Melki and George Kapinaris.
Writer: Alex Lykos.
Director: Peter Andrikidis.

Rating: 3.5/5

Embracing the same broad ethnic-comedy brushstrokes that propelled Joel Zwick’s 2002 romp My Big Fat Greek Wedding, director Peter Andrikidis’ Alex & Eve can expect to evoke a similar warmth from audiences receptive to both well-timed rom-com tropes and the immigrant experience. As the kickstarter for the 2015 Greek Film Festival, launching October 14 in Sydney and Melbourne, organisers have delivered on the ‘feel good’ factor with this surefire crowdpleaser.

The central romance is an oft-told tale, one of true love forced to overcome the obstacle of prejudice to find its fullest potential and make better the lives of everyone it touches. The ‘Romeo’ is Greek maths teacher Alex, played with an unaffected ease by Richard Brancatisano, whose features and frame conjure a young John Cassavettes by way of ‘Friends’ clown Matt Le Blanc. His ‘Juliet’ is the wonderful Andrea Dimitriades as Eve, a strong-willed and modern Lebanese Muslim who is struggling with an impending arranged nuptials.

The first act offers up a series of unremarkable but efficient story beats, as the pair meet-cute, contemplate the pros and cons of their developing feelings and bounce off the advice and interference of friends and families. Best amongst the boisterous support cast are Millie Samuels as the blonde, blue-eyed Aussie ‘outsider’, Claire; comic veteran George Kapinaris as Uncle Taso; and, Nathan Melki, a standout as the fearlessly foul-mouthed high schooler.

The film finds its strongest, most stirring voice in the second-act scenes that explore the seething tensions and ingrained preconceptions inherent to each culture’s traditions. As the patriarchs of the respective clans, Tony Nikolakopoulos (as Greek blowhard, George) and Simon Elrahi (as sagacious Lebanese, Bassam), offer nuanced variations on potentially clichéd characterisations; similarly, the matriarchs (Zoe Carides as Chloe; the terrific Helen Chebatte as Salwa) have enough screen time and succinct dialogue to provide depth and dimension.

Playwright (and bit player) Alex Lykos thoughtfully adapts his own hit stage play, which has sold out theatres in Australia’s state capitals since it launched in 2006, spawning two ‘A&E’ sequels (‘The Wedding’ and ‘The Baby’). Detractors may gripe that his formatting is too ‘sitcom simple,’ but what Lykos’ structure lacks in ambition nevertheless provides the very platform for an insightful and, most importantly, accessible examination of generational multiculturalism.

One of the local industry’s most respected small-screen directors, Alex and Eve represents only the second time in a career spanning nearly four decades that Peter Andrikidis’ has ventured into feature film; his last, the much derided 2010 comedy, The Kings of Mykonos. But his skilful pacing and widescreen treatment is all pro, ensuring scant evidence of the project’s stage origins remain. With Sydney’s racially diverse suburban enclaves and harbourside splendour as the backdrop, the director and his DOP, veteran lensman Joseph Pickering (Windrider, 1986; Sons of Steel, 1988; Idiot Box, 1996) have crafted a fittingly evocative romantic cityscape, worthy of the engaging drama unfolding before it.

Alex & Eve will open the 2015 Greek Film Festival in both Sydney and Melbourne on October 14; other capitals to follow. Ticketing and venue information can be found at the event's official website.

EVEREST

Stars: Jason Clarke, Jake Gyllenhaal, Josh Brolin, Martin Henderson, John Hawkes, Emily Watson, Keira Knightley, Michael Kelly, Robin Wright, Elizabeth Debecki and Sam Worthington.
Writers: William Nicholson and Simon Beaufoy.
Director: Baltasar Kormákur.

Rating: 4/5

Talent both above- and below-the-line nary put a foot wrong scaling Everest, a thunderous, gruelling account of the fatal 1996 commercial climb of the world’s most unforgiving summit.

Director Baltasar Kormákur’s vast, encompassing vision thematically broaches the existential drive that consumes extreme climbers, questioning both the brusque heroism and innate fatalism of those that attempt to conquer such harsh climes.

But the humanistic drama peaks in its pure representation of that age-old, man-vs-nature battle; flawlessly crafted scenes of storm surges and ice shifts, set against the epic real-world scale of the Himalayan landscape, instantly miniaturise the protagonists and put into perspective, both physically and metaphorically, the insurmountable task of surviving should Mother Nature dictate otherwise.

The central figure is Rob Hall (a very fine Jason Clarke), a New Zealander whose company, Adventure Consultants, is on the verge of booming as tourism interest in Everest’s peak soars. His competition is American Scott Fischer (Jake Gyllenhaal), a kind of mountaineering surfer-dude, though they share a respectful, friendly bond as two souls in the thrall of the region and its majesty. Hall’s team includes climbers Harold (Martin Henderson, making an all-too-rare big-screen appearance) and Guy (Sam Worthington) and base-camp staffers Helen (Emily Watson, mastering a very broad Kiwi accent) and Dr McKenzie (Elizabeth Debicki).

On the lengthy journey into the Nepalese range that begins in Kathmandu and takes in the remote outposts of Lukla, Namche Bazaar and the Thangboche Monastery, the international cast of ‘who’ll make it out?’ characters are deftly sketched; brash Texan Beck Weathers (Josh Brolin), regular guy Doug Hansen (John Hawkes), Japanese adventuress Yasuko Namba (Naoko Mori), and journalist Jon Krakauer (Michael Kelly), whose bestselling first-person account ‘Into Thin Air’ was one of several written by the survivors (though none are credited as source material by the production). Each have a moment or two of screen time to reveal their weaknesses and motivations, providing just enough insight into who they are and why they are there for the audience to feel engaged when the high-altitude horrors begin. (No such dimension is afforded the local population, who are fleetingly represented and get a mere handful of lines; for their side of a similar story, check out Jennifer Peedom’s terrific doco Sherpa, currently touring the festival circuit).

The set-up structure is Disaster Movie 101, barely diverting from the Irwin Allen template of the mid 1970s and employed right up until this years’ San Andreas. However, the based-in-fact origins and naturalness with which the Oscar-pedigree writing team and skilled Icelandic auteur Kormákur (101 Reykjavik, 2000; 2 Guns, 2013) work the tropes keep it real enough. The story finds its heart in the long-distance phone call relationship between Hall and his pregnant wife Jan (a weepy Keira Knightley); not so succinctly realised are some kitschy ‘back home’ scenes involving Robin Wright as Beck’s estranged spouse and her efforts to procure a helicopter for her husband’s medical care (“I want the number for the American embassy in Nepal. That’s right, NEPAL!”)

The films strongest suit is its unflinching depiction of the rigour and grandeur of the setting. Whether on location in Nepal (or it’s more attainable stand-in, Italy) or on the soundstages at Cinecitta or Pinewood, cinematographer Salvatore Totino (Any Given Sunday, 1999; The Da Vinci Code, 2006) and the production’s design and effects units have compellingly recreated the terrifying reality of life-and-death on a mountainside, 30,000 feet high. Melded with the emotional and physical struggle depicted by a committed cast under the assured guidance of a fine filmmaker, Everest emerges as both a touching tribute to lost lives and an old fashion slice of white-knuckle adventure.

7 CHINESE BROTHERS

Stars: Jason Schwartzman, Tunde Adebimpe, Eleanore Pienta, Olympia Dukakis, Jimmy Gonzales, Stephen Root, Alex Karpovsky, Jonathan Togo and Alex Ross Perry.
Writer/Director: Bob Byington

Watch the trailer here.

Rating: 4/5

Exactly the kind of outsider odyssey that Jason Schwartzman seemed destined to headline, Bob Byington’s ambiguously titled 7 Chinese Brothers is a sweet, slyly incisive tale of an unambitious man-child facing up to reality on his own terms. As Larry, the Austin, Texas outsider whose foppish hair, uneven stubble and left-field charm underpin his social-outcast status, Schwartzman once again proves an immensely likable screen presence.

Only revealing the truth of his lonely existence when laying on his old couch with his beloved dog, Arrow (the actor’s real-life pet and scene-stealing co-lead), Larry protects himself from the responsibilities of the world by keeping humanity, in all its forms, at arm’s length. Whether coping with the resentment of being sacked for stealing booze, sensing romantic longing for his new boss, Lupe (Eleanore Pienta) or facing the mortality of his only living relative, his grandma (Olympia Dukakis), Larry’s brazen goofishness and quick wit helps him through most of what life has to offer.

As the cards dealt by destiny force Larry to reassess his outlook, Byington’s screenplay forgoes the potential for life-lesson mawkishness and instead allows Schwartzman to minutely adjust Larry’s behaviour. The result is a film that honours the integrity of its lead character and the skill of its lead actor; the narrative, which stays just the right side of quirky, keeps sentimentality in check and provides a denouement that honours the legacy of the 90’s era slacker genre, from which it draws much of its personality.

In almost every scene, Schwartzman can bring the droll and the acerbic like few actors working today. Larry is clearly a deeply intelligent construct, riffing on small-scale philosophical dilemmas and human interaction when it strikes him. Yet his absurd indulgences, a boisterous mechanism by which he diffuses adult situations, are frequently hilarious; his ‘fat kid getting out of a pool’ bit is comedy gold.

It is interesting to ponder the notion that Larry is, in fact, the adult version of Max Fischer, Schwartzman’s iconic character from Wes Anderson’s Rushmore. Had society never fully accepted Max’s vision and drive, Larry may be all that is left; self-assured but socially awkward, he is a man at a crossroad, one which leads to a life as either an interesting if misanthropic shut-in or fully-engaged, healthily cynical man determining his own unique path.

LILET NEVER HAPPENED

Stars: Sandy Talag, Johanna ter Steege, John Arcilla, Angeli Bayani, Dorothea Marabut-Yrastorza and Jermaine Patrick Ulgasan.
Writers: Jacco Groen, Roy Iglesias.
Director: Jacco Groen.

Screening as the Closing Night Film at the Reel Sydney Festival of World Cinema.

Watch the trailer here.

Rating: 3.5/5

Finding bittersweet humour and heartbreaking humanity amongst the horror of the child prostitution industry of Manila is key to the impact that Dutch filmmaker Jacco Groen achieves with his debut feature, Lilet Never Happened. As one of Europe’s most respected documentarians, he has developed a distinctly empathic eye which, along with a measured degree of craftsmanship, keeps the narrative buzzing with real-world intensity, with the occasional indulgence in wish fulfilment movie moments.

Crucial to the film’s emotional heights is Sandy Talag as Lilet, the hardened 12 year-old who has fled an abusive, exploitative domestic life to live amongst the runaways and orphans in the shadowy alleyways and abandoned lots of the Filipino capital. Talag is a soaring onscreen presence; a naturally gifted performer who can play tough and tender in the same frame, she is called upon to navigate scenes that would test actresses twice her age and experience.

Having dodged the lascivious advances of a corrupt official (Hilario Nayra) while incarcerated, a sceptical Lilet is befriended by social worker Claire (Johanna ter Steege). Despite the offer of education and shelter in Claire’s school for disadvantaged kids, Lilet seeks out her elder sister Tessie (Dorothea Marabut), a ‘club dancer’ who services high-paying customers under the watchful eye of ruthless house mama Madame Curing (Grace Constantino, delivering the film’s other deeply resonant performance). Despite her protestations, Lilet becomes embroiled in the skin trade, her youth and beauty fetching top dollar amongst the establishment’s high-paying predators.

Lilet occasionally glimpses a life that more appropriately suits her tender years. She shares a sweet bond with fellow street-kid Nonoy (Tim Mabalot) and exhibits an affectionate bond with her younger brother Dino (Jermaine Patrick Ulgasan), whose unflinching hope that his sister will provide the new life that both desperately need gives the film a vital warmth. But the indelible sequences are those in which Talag portrays Lilet’s spiralling acceptance of life as a sex worker; in one memorable sequence, the actress achingly conveys an existential crossroad, striding through the red-lit hallways of the club’s ‘back rooms’ contemplating the consequences of a life under Madame Curing’s soulless exploitation.

Adopting an innocent’s point-of-view of a harsh, often inhumane society puts Groen’s film in the company of such lauded films as Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows (1959), Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire (2008) and Mira Nair’s Salaam Bombay (1988); it most strongly recalls Jeffery Brown’s Sold (2014), which examines the trafficking of a Nepalese girl to sex trade in India, and Keren Yedaya’s haunting 2004 Israeli drama, Or (My Treasure).

Lilet Never Happened falls just short of the classics of the genre; some rote characterisations and treacly sentiment occasionally derail the compelling, hard-edged realism at which Groen excels. Yet it remains a bracing, bold insight into the child sex criminal underworld, conveying a human spirit crushed into submission yet surging with the strength it takes to survive such abuse and injustice.

Lilet Never Happened will have its Australian Premiere at the Reel Sydney Festival of World Cinema. Ticket and venue information available at the event’s official website here.

THE CRITIC'S CAPSULE: REVELATION 2015, VOLUME 2.

Revelations has always fearlessly programmed works that emerge from the outer fringes of international cinema. Some label it ‘underground’ or ‘niche’, but fact is many of the highlights at this (or any) Revelations exist in a realm of their own creation, set apart by unclassifiable visions by one-off filmmaking talents. In Volume 2 of our Critic's Capsule look at Revelation 2015, we consider five films that will loudly and proudly divide audiences and ensure the Perth festival remains high on the list of events for moviegoers seeking boldly challenging cinema… (also, check out Volume 1 of our Revelations review coverage here)

H. (Dirs: Rania Attieh, Daniel Garcia / USA, Argentina, 95 mins)
The Argentinian directing duo of Rania Attieh and Daniel Garcia adapt the classic Helen of Troy story to the contemporary township of Troy, New York and construct a bewildering narrative that reworks B-movie ‘meteor shower madness’ tropes into a mind-boggling sci-fi study in fear, madness and detachment. The story encompasses the experiences of two Helens; one, an elderly married woman (Robin Bartlett, terrific) with an obsession for life-like dolls and desperation to find her husband (Julian Gamble) after he, along with many of the townsfolk, disappear in the wake of a meteor’s flyover; the other, an artist (Rebecca Dayan; pictured, above), expecting a child with her husband (Will Janowitz), but who is experiencing ‘glitches’ in her daily reality. One can view H. as a wildly inventive take on the alien abduction phenomenon, but there always seems to be a lot more going on beneath the surface of Attieh and Garcia’s moody, captivating (occasionally, abstract and frustrating) filmic mystery. The determined, often artsy ambiguity may drive some to distraction (reactions from Sundance and Berlin ran the gamut), yet there are moments of undeniably engrossing psychological drama.
You’ll be talking about…: Young Helen’s nightmarish encounter with The Black Horse.
RATING: 4/5 

YAKONA (Dirs: Paul Collins, Anlo Sepulveda / USA, 85 mins)
Providing a wordless voice for the majestic San Marcos River to impart a memory forged over 10,000 years, Yakona is a rousing natural history installation/videographic essay that chronicles the great waterway’s interaction with those with whom it shares the Earth. Co-director Collins crisp, immersive cinematography cuts seamlessly between images of plant and animal life sharing the mineral-rich, crystal waters with mankind through the ages (first the rightful owners of the land, the Clovis and Coahuiltecan tribes, then the invasive and violent first wave of white settlers). It lacks the soaring bravado and epic scale of Godfrey Reggio’s Powaqqatsi (1988) and Koyaanisqatsi (1982) and Ron Fricke’s Baraka (1992), still the standard bearers for this type of awe-inspiring study of our planet’s many faces. Nevertheless, co-helmers Collins and Anlo Sepulveda capture the wonder and delicacy of a life-giving tributary in all its complex and captivating glory.
You’ll be talking about…: The snapping turtle versus the duck (a tip – stay through the end credits; pictured, right).
RATING: 3.5/5

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT CONCRETE (Dirs: Alanna Stewart, Katherine Dohan / USA, 87 mins)
For all the love afforded our teen movie ‘classics’ (The John Hughes trilogy, Heathers, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, to name a few), all are still bound by an adherence to form and structure that feels very…well, ‘adult’. None have ever fully captured the invented languages, insanely free-form humour, outsider angst and wildly romantic abandon that spews forth wondrously unfettered from the highschooler’s psyche. One of the most impressive achievements of Memphis-based filmmakers Alanna Stewart and Katherine Dohan’s adorable fantasy What I Love About Concrete is that it feels entirely borne of a teenager’s diary doodles, writ larger than life with the fanciful but meaningful eccentricities that exist within an average 11^th grader’s headspace. As heroine Molly Whuppie, the Alice archetype who finds herself down a middle-class rabbit hole of her own creation, Morgan Stewart is warm and wonderful. Shot on next-to-no budget over several years with friend and family non-pro actors in key roles, Stewart and Dohan have conjured a high-school classic; a ‘Gilliam-esque’ teen-dream landscape filled with giddy humour, sweet innocence and touching emotion.
You’ll be talking about…: Claire Faulhaber as nutty bff Georgie, whose stream-of-consciousness hallway monologuing is hilarious. And the superb soundtrack (which should be bought here)
RATING: 4.5/5

ASPHALT WATCHES (Dirs: Shayne Ehman, Seth Scriver / Canada, 94 mins)
Picture, if you will, an animated odyssey that follows two best buds, Bucktooth Cloud and Skeleton Hat (pictured, right), as they traverse the Canadian heartland, encountering all manner of weird, violent, crude and unwholesome Canuck natives. This is the basis for Asphalt Watches, a truly hallucinogenic cinematic trip dreamed from deep within the creative subconscious of writer/directors Shayne Ehman and Seth Scriver (who also voice the protagonists). Stylistically resembling an early 90s ‘side-scrolling’ video game and interspersed with groaning, industrial audio cues and repetitive musical interludes, this garish, grotesque work of flash-animated surrealism might best be described as the lovechild of psychedelic cartoonist Robert Crumb and Pendleton Ward, creator of the TV series Adventure Time. Several reviews suggest watching under the influence of whatever drugs you can get your hands on, but there is a good chance that the occasionally nightmarish images and relentlessly downbeat heroes will lead users to a very bad trip.
You’ll be talking about…: Well, take your pick. The hideous car crash sequence; Santa Claus and his addiction to fast food between Decembers; the talking hand. Maybe just the anti-heroes themselves. Good luck…
RATING: 3.5/5 

THE CREEPING GARDEN (Dirs: Tim Grabham, Jasper Sharp / UK, 81 mins)
Finding universal relevance and existence-defining properties in the nutrient rich slime moulds found in the dense forest undergrowth was the profound aim of documentarians Tim Grabham and Jasper Sharp with their passion project, The Creeping Garden. And, as unlikely as it may seem, their mission has been accomplished with resounding and wonderfully entertaining aplomb. From the pulsating electrical current that courses through its living tissue to the offbeat and wonderful aficionados who exist to explore its ever-expanding durability as a life form, slime mould makes for one of the most fascinating and complex central figures in any film this year. The Creeping Garden at first appears to be a rather stuffy British naturalist pic but, if Grabham and Sharp’s utterly engaging and refreshingly intelligent doco teaches you anything, it is that the best of what’s on offer is often found beneath the thin veneer of preconception.
You’ll be talking about…: The android head, wired to the electrical bio-rhythms of the slime mould, giving a face and voice to the acellular, jelly-like protoplasm.
RATING: 4/5

All ticketing and venue information for 2015 Revelation Perth International Film Festival are available at the event's official website.

THE CRITIC'S CAPSULE: REVELATION 2015, VOLUME 1.

The 2015 slate of films screening at Revelation Perth International Film Festival is as compelling and eclectic as any in it’s history. We’ve come to expect that from the programming team, who seek the truly unique and challenging in world cinema. SCREEN-SPACE will offer extensive review coverage with our new ‘Capsule Critic’ format, kicking off with five of the most anticipated films on the RevFest schedule… 

THE TRIBE (Dir: Miroslav Slaboshpitsky / Ukraine, Netherland; 132 mins / pictured, above)
The toast of the international film festival circuit for much of 2015 (it has 24 trophies to date, from Cannes to Sitges to Thessaloniki), Miroslav Slaboshpitsky’s study of teenage tribalism and the brutal adherence to a gangland-style hierarchy is a grimy, gripping, unrelenting vision. Setting the narrative in a steely grey boarding school for the deaf and employing Ukrainian sign language in place of a single word of dialogue or subtitles serves to draw in the audience with a vice-like grip. Brutal violence, graphic sexuality and a central figure shaded in his own dark immorality make The Tribe a tough film to connect with (despite all the festival acclaim, it has struggled to find distribution in many territories) but it is nevertheless an extraordinary study in isolation and exploitation and an exciting, technically accomplished first feature from the Ukrainian auteur.
You’ll be talking about…: The single-take, fixed-camera matter-of-factness Slaboshpitsky utilises, put to no more brilliantly disturbing use than during the abortion sequence. And that ending… 
RATING: 4/5 

THE FORBIDDEN ROOM (Dir: Guy Maddin, Evan Johnson / Canada; 130 mins / pictured, right)
Working creatively unfettered in a bold, bewildering genre all of his own creation, Canadian maverick Guy Maddin (My Winnipeg, 2007; The Saddest Music in The World, 2003) kicks of his latest celebration of the confoundingly recherché advocating the joys of a hot bath before plunging the ocean depths and joining the crew of a doomed submarine. Maddin’s vision (shared with longtime collaborator Evan Johnson, earning a first-time director’s credit alongside his mentor) encompasses florid, screeching detours into worlds far beyond the confines of the sub, employing such influences as Kafka, Burroughs and German expressionist cinema in his exploration of the very nature of storytelling. Scratched and crumpled film stock, soaring melodrama, silent era title cards, multi-layered narratives and a garish palette barely skim the surface when trying to describe the outsider auteur’s latest, daring, giddily abstract work. Actors love him; on hand are Udo Kier, Matthieu Almaric; Maria Medeiros, Charlotte Rampling, Elina Lowensohn and Geraldine Chaplin. Audiences unfamiliar with Maddin’s methods can be less forgiving (there were walkouts during the recent Sydney Film Festival sessions). Stick with it…
You’ll be talking about…:  The Aswang.
RATING: 3.5/5 

THE HUNTING GROUND (Dir: Kirby Dick / USA; 103 mins)
College campus sexual assault is exposed for the American epidemic it truly represents in Kirby Dicks’ deeply disturbing call-to-action documentary. Just as the statistics hit home regarding the regularity with which women (and men) are raped in the hallowed halls of our revered tertiary education institutions, the filmmakers double-down with revelations that connect the amount of crimes reported and convictions sought with the silencing role played by administrators in charge of admissions levels and fund-raising. A determined investigative journo with serious filmmaker cred (the Oscar nominated The Invisible War, 2012; This Film is Not Yet Rated, 2006), Dick’s latest documentary sometimes appears unwieldy, his desire to fully convey the scope of the issue dictating an occasionally rat-a-tat presentation of facts, figures and faces. But there is no denying the director achieves his primary goal; the stark presentation of horrifying numbers, backed by heartbreaking first-hand accounts of those dealing with shattered dreams, blunt-force betrayal and broken innocence.
You’ll be talking about…: The ingrained misogyny of American frathouse culture, fuelled by a grotesque sense of self-entitlement that leads to campus rallies in which our future leaders chant, “No Means Yes! Yes Means Anal!”
RATING: 4/5 

STATION TO STATION (Dir: Doug Aitken / USA; 71 mins)
In just under a month, the ‘Station to Station Express’ travelled 4000 miles of America’s finest railroad tracks (pictured, right). Along the way, artists of every creative bent would hop on and off as they pleased, sharing their creations with the land and its people. Doug Aitken wields all manner of filming techniques in compiling the 62 short films that chronicle what organisers call “a living project exploring modern creativity,” (a London leg launched on June 27). As with all anthology films, some instalments connect better than others; even at a scant 71 minutes, the length of Aitken’s film feels about right. If it never manages to gel as a cohesive cinematic whole, it certainly captures the spirit of unity and joy of creating art that is immediately embraced by a new, wider audience.
You’ll be talking about…: ...whichever of the 62 featured artists most impresses. We favoured the electronic art of Icelandic ‘elemental sculpture’ Olafur Eliasson, in which he records the speed and movement of the train and creates strobe-light ‘pulse-images’
RATING: 3/5 

SPRING (Dirs: Justin Benson, Aaron Moorhead / USA; 109 mins)
Director team Benson and Moorhead impressed the underground festival crowd with their weird, wonderful cabin-in-the-woods variant, Resolution (2012), then backed it up with the best of an ok bunch in V/H/S Viral (2014). With Spring, they deliver on the promise they’ve shown, exhibiting considerable growth and ambition as storytellers as well as crafting a fine example of that toughest of genres, the horror/romance. As Evan, the wayward American dodging cops and responsibility amongst some of Italy’s most picturesque seaside locales, genre fave Lou Taylor Pucci (Southland Tales, 2006; Carriers, 2009; Evil Dead, 2013) finds the alluring Louise (German ingénue Nadia Hilker; pictured, right) irresistible, romancing her despite some hard-to-read signals she is giving off. Love can be rocky road, but Evan can’t have seen what he must deal with if he is to keep his Euro-fantasy dreamgirl. Think Before Sunrise as written by HP Lovecraft; or, a Richard Linklater version of Species.
You’ll be talking about…: Some convincing practical effects (the fate of a sleazey alley way pick-up is especially unpleasant), but also some tender moments Pucci shares with an elderly orchard farmer (the wonderful Francesco Carnelutti), discussing the nature of fate and love.
RATING: 3.5/5

All ticketing and venue information for 2015 Revelation Perth International Film Festival are available at the event's official website.

THE CRITIC'S CAPSULE: SYDNEY FILM FESTIVAL, VOLUME 2.

For Volume 2 of The Critic’s Capsule, SCREEN-SPACE ventures to every corner of the Sydney Film Festival program, presenting our take on a much-loved actress’ latest US indie, a Swedish drama about body issues, a South African documentary on an immortalized text, an insider’s look at Italy’s most famous horse race and a post-apocalyptic vision with BMX bikes…

PALIO (Dir: Cosima Spender / UK, Italy, 92 mins / pictured, above)
In his unbridled account of the Palio - the bareback, city-square horse-riding event that enthralls the population of Italy twice a year - acclaimed documentarian Cosima Spender (Dolce vita africano, 2008; Without Gorky, 2011) captures not only the brutal spectacle of the race but also the essential purity of Italian machismo. Ego, honour, ruthlessness, social stature and courage are both celebrated and brought down a peg or two in this wonderfully entertaining account of the legends who have flown the flags of the competing regions to magnificent highs and crashing lows. As pulse-pounding as the thunderous derby appears on screen, it is the rife corruption and crooked traditions that often prove the most entertaining aspect of Spender’s feature-length debut (a Tribeca best documentary nominee).
You’ll be talking about…: The smug charm of alpha-male Gigi Bruschelli, firm in his belief that a record 14^th Palio win is his heaven-sent destiny.
RATING: 4/5

THE DREAM OF SHAHRAZAD (Dir: Francois Verster / South Africa, Egypt, Jordan, France, The Netherlands, 107 mins / pictured, right)
One of the defining social texts of world literature, The 1001 Nights (aka Arabian Nights) relates the story of the great storyteller Princess Scheherazade, who defied the blade of her lover and king by crafting an endless narrative that would ultimately see her life spared and the monarch humbled. South African director Francois Verster frames a study of swift, often violent socio-political change in the Middle East within a celebration of music, art, performance and the redemptive power of positive creativity. Shot over two years and incorporating such outwardly disparate elements as the Turkish National Youth Orchestra’s staging of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade and graphic images from the Arab Spring uprising, Verster considers the legacy of The 1001 Nights while crafting a challenging, vast yet intimate tapestry of personal and cultural significance.
You’ll be talking about…: An Alexandrian actor and a troupe of Cairo-based performers stage readings of testimonies for the martyrs of the January 25 Revolution, written by the mothers of the deceased.
RATING: 4/5 

GRANDMA (Dir: Paul Weitz / USA, 78 mins)
Lily Tomlin sets her sights on Oscar glory as Elle Reid in writer/director Paul Weitz’s razor-sharp character-driven comedy/drama, Grandma. Cutting a tart-mouthed swathe through the upscale gay and intellectual enclaves of LA in her search for the $630 needed to help her granddaughter Sage (Julia Warner, finally finding a worthy vehicle for her talents), Tomlins’ lesbian-poet-misanthrope reps a tour-de-force role. Having been cast aside by the LA suits after back-to-back duds Being Flynn and Admission, Weitz reconnects with the smart, sweet, caustic voice that highlighted his best work (About a Boy; In Good Company).
You’ll be talking about…: Tomlin, of course, but also the marquee-worthy support cast – Marcia Gay Harden, John Cho, Judy Greer, Don McManus, Nat Wolff, a terrific Sam Elliott and the late Elizabeth Pena.
RATING: 4/5

MY SKINNY SISTER (Dir: Sanna Lenken / Sweden, Germany, 95 mins / pictured, right)
Few films have tackled the early-teen sororal dynamic with the insight and empathy of first-time writer-director Sanna Lenken’s My Skinny Sister. Taken for granted by tuned-out parents (Annika Hallin, Henrik Norlen), youngest daughter Stella (the remarkable Rebecka Josephson) idolises her figure-skater big sis Katja (Amy Deasismont, an dead-ringer for Hailee Steinfeld); the family begins to implode when Stella, herself struggling with early body-issue concerns and the first flushes of romantic desire, discovers Katja is in the throes of bulimia. No surprise that Lenken was once a sufferer and has previously explored the impact of the disease in the short Eating Lunch; there is barely a false note in her slow-burn drama. Despite some unnecessary third act melodrama, My Skinny Sister is, in every other respect, a warm-hearted, quietly powerful work.
You’ll be talking about…: The bathroom scene, where Stella is filled with concern when she discovers Katja is purging, only to have Katja hold the crush Stella has for the ice-skating coach over her little sister in exchange for secrecy. Josephson and Deasismont (aka, Swedish pop starlet Amy Diamond) are both extraordinary in their bigscreen debuts.
RATING: 3.5/5  

TURBO KID (Dirs: Francois Simard, Anouk Whissell, Yoan-Karl Whissell / New Zealand, Canada, 95 mins / pictured, right)
Turbo Kid has been touted as a loving nod to those dusty VHS rentals that faded on the outer rims of rental shelves with names like 1990: The Bronx Warriors and Exterminators of The Year 3000. An outland BMX-er named ‘The Kid’ (an ok Munro Chambers) takes on the guise of his comicbook hero, Turbo Kid, to thwart the henchmen of bloodthirsty post-apocalyptic dictator, Zeus (Michael Ironside, enjoying himself). It should be a blast, but this Kiwi/Canuck hybrid oozes an icky hipster-cool smugness that impresses itself by ridiculing the genre’s shortcomings rather than celebrating the unshakeable integrity of the no-budget action epic. The gags feel like cheap shots, rarely earning a laugh. DOP Jean-Philippe Bernier’s widescreen frame and crisp imaging actually work against the comedic premise, as does the CGI-amped splatter-effects. EP Jason Eisener nailed the 80s send-up/homage with far greater skill as director of Hobo With a Shotgun (2011).
You’ll be talking about…: The wonderful Laurence Leboeuf as comic-relief robo-babe Apple. If the film finds its audience (that under 25, ‘the 80s were so daggy and funny’ crowd), expect Apple cosplayers to populate the Cons.
RATING: 2.5/5

Visit the Sydney Film Festival website for all ticketing and venue information.

SHERPA

Writer/director: Jennifer Peedom.

Rating: 4.5/5

For all the mountainous visual majesty her lens captures, it is director Jennifer Peedom’s soulful, stirring depiction of the human spirit that allows her feature, Sherpa, to truly soar.

Envisioned as an examination of the tensions that led to a highly publicised clash between European tourists and Sherpa guides in 2013, Peedom contextualises the inequalities suffered by the Sherpa workers with some deftly handled backstory involving the lopsided mistreatment of the most famous Sherpa of all time, Tenzing Norgay, after he guided Sir Edmund Hillary to the peak of Mt Everest in May 1953.

But the Australian director suddenly found her already daunting production in the midst of an event that, at the time, represented the largest singular instance of loss of life in Mt Everest history. On April 18 2014, a 14.5 tonnes sheet of ice dislodged from the wall of the treacherous Khumbu Icefall and a team of Sherpas, transporting camping and trekking equipment for international tourist operators, were crushed; 16 locals died in the disaster, with three bodies never recovered.

In chronicling the events with an as-it-unfolds immediacy, Peedom and her high-altitude co-director Renan Ozrturk afford their audience a first-hand visual account of unfettered human emotion at its most raw. The heartbreak that accompanies images of the deceased being helicoptered to base camp cannot be overstated, nor can Peedom’s deeply respectful depiction of the rescue and recovery efforts and, most importantly, the overwhelming grief that swept the region.

The central conflict remains constant – the global commercial interests invested in the Mt Everest tourism industry versus the relationship the indigenous population has with the mountain – but the stakes soar and the issues deepen in the wake of the tragedy. Certain to divide audience sympathies is trek operator Russell Brice, whose business depends on a trustful working relationship with his carriers but who finds himself facing agitated clients when militant Sherpas, tired of their cultural history and modern needs being disrespected by tourists and local government officials alike, want the climbing season abandoned.

The film’s true ‘star’ is experienced guide Phurba Tashi Sherpa, father of two and husband to a wife whose anxiety grows with every expedition. Having lived for generations in the shadow of his beloved Sagarmatha, Tashi shares a bond with the mountain that only locals can comprehend; it is this affinity with the landscape and its legends that places the softly-spoken Sherpa at the centre of the us-vs-them conflict, however reluctantly.

Peedom has a long history with Nepal and the Himalayan terrain; key production roles on such landmark small-screen achievements as Miracle on Everest (2008) and Everest: Beyond the Limit (2007) allowed her unprecedented access to the local people and their customs. This intimacy and shared understanding of the region imbues Sherpa with an immensely empathetic warmth. The access afforded her camera – flashpoint instances at the height of negotiations; achingly sweet moments inside Phurba Tashi’s family home – is a testament to a filmmaker of unquestionable integrity in the eyes of her subjects and whose subsequent vision is instinctive and heartfelt.

Donations to the Nepal Earthquake aid efforts can be made at via the following organisations:
RED CROSS (AUSTRALIA)
UNHCR
UNICEF

THE CRITIC'S CAPSULE: SYDNEY FILM FESTIVAL, VOLUME 1.

Each and every film scheduled into the 62^nd Sydney Film Festival deserves the standard 500+ word appraisal we usually publish here at SCREEN-SPACE. But, in an effort to offer as many opinions as possible while the festival is in full swing, we have introduced 'The Critic’s Capsule’ – short, sharp insight into as many of the Sydney screening highlights as we can muster. Three days into the 2015 event, here is our opening volley…. 

DRUNK STONED BRILLIANT DEAD: THE STORY OF THE NATIONAL LAMPOON (Dir: Douglas Tirola / USA, 93 mins / pictured, above)
No one influence has shaped the American comedic landscape in the last half century more than the satirical publication, National Lampoon. The lovechild of Harvard’s privileged intellectualism and the late 60’s counter-culture fearlessness, the magazine (and, subsequently, brand) became a multi-million dollar industry. Douglas Tirola’s account of the Lampoon heavyweights that cut a swathe through American society with their brand of barbed, hilarious satire is both a glorious celebration of the lunatic fringe (led by wild-child Doug Kenney) and a cautionary tale of the destructive impact of fame and fortune. Hilarious accounts of the surreal life led by those at the Lampoon ensure big laughs; not so expected, the tearful moments of memory and regret.
You’ll talking about…: The Murray brothers, Belushi, Ramis, Radner, Guest, Aykroyd, Chase and many more, all in their twenty-something pre-stardom prime.
RATING: 4/5 

MY LOVE DON’T CROSS THAT RIVER (Dir: Jin Mo-Young / South Korea, 86 mins / pictured, right)
Unforgettably poignant moments captured during the final years of a 70-year marriage imbue Jin Mo-Young’s achingly sweet, funny and insightful documentary (a theatrical blockbuster in its homeland). The story of Cho Byeong-man (98) and Kang Gye-young (89) captures the exquisite simplicity of their vast life together (they wed when she was 14), most notably their affinity with the surrounding riverside landscape and interactions with their extended family. The authenticity of some early scenes is questionable, but the inevitability of one’s mortality is dealt with in a deeply respectful, entirely truthful manner.
You’ll be talking about…: The final farewell.
RATING: 3.5/5 

BEING EVEL (Dir: Daniel Junge / USA, 100 mins / pictured, above)
A vivid, vibrant celebration of the famed motorcycle daredevil, Daniel Junge’s exhaustively researched profile credits the rough-hewn Montana native and the commercial phenomenon he spawned as the dawn of the modern extreme-sports industry. Despite teetering on the edge of gushy hagiography for much of the first half, the darker psychological shades of the man himself keep the film on track – unlike some of Evel’s (in)famous jumps, captured here in all their bone-crunching glory. Superbly cut by Davis Coombe under Junge’s assured guidance; no surprise that Johnny Knoxville and Jeff Tremaine, the ‘minds’ behind Jackass are on-board as producers.
You’ll be talking about…: Junge’s slow-motion analysis of the less-than-graceful landing that Knievel (barely) survived when he leapt the Caesar’s Palace fountain in Las Vegas.
RATING: 3.5/5

DEATHGASM (Dir: Jason Lei Howden / New Zealand, 85 mins / pictured, right)
For those convinced heavy metal music in all its forms is the tool of Satan…well, you’re right. Such is the premise of debutant Jason Lei Howden’s ridiculously splattery horror/comedy Deathgasm, named after the thrashing four-piece that conjures Hell’s minions from a garage in Greypoint. As deliriously OTT as the claret-soaked carnage is, the tropes of the no-holds-barred, dismemberment genre are beginning to fold in on themselves; one sex-toy inspired sequence aside, the influence of Jackson, Raimi and Gordon is all too evident. Where Howden earns his stripes is in his handling of the very funny cast of characters. A star is born in Milo Cawthorne as headbangin’ loner Brodie, who exhibits great comic timing and an every-dude charm, especially in his efforts to woo the wonderful Kimberley Crossman.
You’ll be talking about…: Death by dildo probably, although the first decapitation gag (that’s right, the first) got one of the film’s biggest laughs.
RATING: 3.5/5 

THE POSTMAN’S WHITE NIGHTS (Dir: Andrei Konchalovsky / Russia, 101 mins / pictured, right)
Journeyman Russian filmmaker Konchalovsky (Tango & Cash, 1989; Runaway Train, 1985; Dyadya Vanya, 1971) bounces back from the mega-budgeted 2010 flop The Nutcracker 3D with a pastoral character study set amidst a remote northern Russian village on the banks of Kenozero Lake. Binding the vodka-sodden community is sober mailman Aleksey Tryaptisyn, playing himself alongside a fellow non-pro cast in a narrative that captures a yearning to fulfil one’s dreams as traditional rural living clashes with encroaching and corrupt officialdom. The director’s understated naturalism may be too muted for some, but others will draw a heartbreaking universal relevance from the plight of Konchalovsky’s real-life protagonists.
You’ll be talking about…: The tale of the river witch Kikimora, related so vividly by Tryaptisin to his pre-teen travel buddy Timur (Timur Bondarenko) as to render the child hysterical with fear.
RATING: 3.5/5

Visit the Sydney Film Festival website for all ticket and venue information.