[Moderator's note: I am splitting these reviews up by country, because I have to split them up some way. I am not trying to be provincial. -ecl]
SIFF Reviews
(English-Language, non-USA)
Film reviews by Jeff Meyer
Copyright 1991 Jeff Meyer
TRULY, MADLY, DEEPLY (Britain, 1990):
Top-notch comedy/drama about a woman who is having a very hard time getting over the death of her husband. So, one weekend -- he comes back! Nice plot (I like the ending particularly), very funny dialogue at times, and a number of good actors (Alan Rickman as the dead husband, Michael Maloney, Bill Paterson) completely dwarfed by Juliet Stevenson's wonderful performance as the lead -- she is enormously engaging and sympathetic, and has the sort of personality that the screen can barely contain.
[Rickman appeared after the film; he has worked with Stevenson in the Royal Shakespeare Company, and spent most of the time praising her performance. Liked his comment about his role in the new Costner ROBIN HOOD, PRINCE OF THIEVES, as the Sheriff of Nottingham: "I haven't seen the film yet. I suspect what you'll see of me on the screen will be me -- but somewhat louder."]
DECEMBER BRIDE (Ireland, 1990):
Beautifully-shot film of passion, religious tension and scandal in rural Ireland at the turn of the century. Dialogue is generally substituted for many heavy, passionate looks between the principals (an independent woman and the two brothers who she serves); unfortunately, they're not *that* good at staring, so it's basically a washout. Pretty to look at, though.
DROWNING BY NUMBERS (Britain, 1988):
When leaving the theater after seeing this Peter Greenaway film, I turned to my friend Rob and said, "Greenaway must be a genius, because I wouldn't have stood for this shit from anything less." DROWNING BY NUMBERS is a visually and symbolically stunning film; the characters circle around the plot like satellites in their own erratic orbits, tied to the events and settings of the story by some fatalistic sense of gravity. It is surreal in the extreme, with various elements (of both the plot and visual variety) crisscrossing with one another throughout the length of the film.
The characters themselves have all the humanity of Delphic oracles; they're there to say things, and to symbolize things, and to act as figures in the painting. DROWNING BY NUMBERS is more of a series of sequential paintings than a movie; it has the mathematical precision of a Bach orchestral suite, and slightly less humanity. It's precisely the sort of film that normally annoys the hell out of me -- character development sacrificed for form, and meaning and message superseded for the visual quality. But whatever pretensions DROWNING BY NUMBERS has are blotted out by Greenaway's amazing skills in cinematography and image composition. Simply put, Greenaway gets away with it. Why? Because it works. Because I never lost interest in it. Because.
If you can put up with this sort of thing, it shouldn't be missed; most people, I think, won't like it -- I would only recommend it to particular acquaintances. It tells a story (of a series of women who murder their husbands, by the way), but the story isn't the point of the film. For me, DROWNING BY NUMBERS was the most technically and visually impressive film of the festival, and probably the one that gave my brain the most grist for the mill. A film completely for the head, and completely absent from the heart. Approach with caution, but if so inclined, jump in. You may get in over your head, and you may not.
THE BIG STEAL (Australia, 1990):
I'd put this in the higher end of teenage coming-of-age/romance/sex-comedy films. Danny has two goals in life: his own Jaguar, and a date with a beautiful girl in his school. Nothing new for the genre, but it's nicely done, with some pleasantly odd performances by supporting cast members (particularly those playing Danny's parents) and some well-timed farce in the second half. It builds towards the end, and turns out to be a lot more entertaining than you'd credit it could be during the first half hour.
PRISONERS OF THE SUN (Australia, 1990):
A docu-drama, based on the war trial where a number of Japanese POW camp officials were tried for war crimes after World War II. Bryan Brown plays the prosecuting attorney, trying to find links between the murder of several Australian airmen and a high military official (George Takei) who ran the camp, and is now valuable to the Americans as a leader in the post-war Japanese government. There's nothing wrong with the film, but as a story there are no surprises, the pace is rather leaden and there's a certain feeling of inevitability to the whole thing. Not something to complain about in a documentary, but in a drama... The US cinema produced waves of films like this in the late 70s and early 80s, and I (and, I suspect, many others) have become sort of burned out on them.
STAN AND GEORGE'S NEW LIFE (Australia, 1990):
This is one of those films that you really want to like -- the premise is good, the actors are well-cast and engaging, and yet... it never really gets off the ground. Stan is a shy, middle-aged barber (for you comix fans, Rob pointed out to me that the actor playing Stan looks like Reid Fleming, the World's Toughest Milkman, on qualudes) who decides to go out and change his life; he goes to work for the weather service. There he meets George, a quiet, cheerful woman who keeps the meteorological data collected and reported by the farmers. The two of them are charming together, but their relationship becomes overshadowed during the last half of the film by a semi-comic conspiracy within the department to cover up incorrect data. You end up feeling cheated that you didn't spend more time with the two principals, and not their odd relatives or co-workers.
STRANGERS IN GOOD COMPANY (Canada, 1990):
If I'm a lucky sod, I'll see a dozen films at the festival that are good through and through; enjoyable to watch for any number of reasons, if not, perhaps, a complete success on the part of the filmmakers. But if the cinematic dice are really rolling out a winning streak, I'll see a film where it becomes obvious very early on that the person in the driver's seat knows exactly what s/he's up to, and that I'm in for a damn fine show. There were two of them this year: Greenaway's DROWNING BY NUMBERS, and Cynthia Scott's STRANGERS IN GOOD COMPANY. (*NOT* to be confused with the recent Christopher Walken film, THE COMPANY OF STRANGERS.) The films couldn't be more different (thank God -- I'm not sure the world is ready for two Peter Greenaways), but there is not an iota less exactness in Scott's film than in DROWNING BY NUMBERS.
STRANGERS works on a simple premise: a busload of elderly women are travelling in backwoods British Columbia when their bus breaks down. They are stranded in a remote, abandoned farmhouse, and must dust off and unite their various skills while waiting to return home. No, this does *not* take a turn into suspense, battle for survival, etc. As these women spend time waiting for rescue, each is slowly, patiently revealed to us, in conversation with one another, and as they explore the beautiful countryside around them. It is a cliche to say that everyone is extraordinary, if you look closely enough; but the cliche is borne out here. Perhaps it is particularly enlightening, because so many of these women have the appearances (and in some case, mannerisms) we commonly attribute to elderly; with no sense of rushing or hurry, Scott brings out their remarkable lives and personalities. Scott's previous films have all been documentaries, and while STRANGERS could be considered a documentary in its characters, if not its plot, it is obvious that the director has learned how to use the camera to give a feeling of reality and -- more importantly -- sincerity.
As we grow older, those loved ones who are older still become easily isolated and categorized in our minds. We move away from home; our own lives take center stage for us, and (unless we are lucky or persistent or inordinately considerate) loved ones who were woven throughout our daily pattern are relegated to memory, or touchstones to memory; encounters are spent remembering one's past with them, while their present condition becomes more and more of an icon -- the loved one is substituted by an "elderly person". STRANGERS IN GOOD COMPANY reminds us -- it reminds me, anyway -- that the people we strive to see through the wrinkles are still there; and maybe, if we dig just a little, someone even more remarkable that we never had the chance to meet when we were younger. Not a chance to throw away. Cynthia Scott didn't; I think you'll be very glad of that if you see this film.
ISABELLE EBERHARDT (France/Australia, 1991 (World Premiere)):
Ah, time again for one of those continental stories of tragic heroines running around turn-of-the-century Europe, innocent and courageous and hard-drinking and chock-full of integrity as all get-out. Eberhardt goes to Algiers to examine the French occupation of the Arab territories as a reporter. She is thwarted at every turn by the authorities, particularly a nasty Lt. who likes to tie her up and imprison her in a frightfully Victorian manner; but she manages to make friends with the Arabs and report the story at the Risk of Her Own Life. (Amazing, as I would imagine her choice of clothing, particularly the lack of a veil, would keep a solitary woman from getting much attention from the leadership of an Arab camp. However, my ignorance of Arab customs is boundless, so I bow to the experts.) In between all this, she throws herself at a ragged young French soldier, who seems rather surprised (probably because she comes out of three-day treks through the desert looking like she just doused herself in Chanel #5 and prepared for a Premiere magazine photo shoot.)
This being a European tragic semi-documentary, the couple quarrel a lot about their relationship, and end up with a consumptive disease at the end. (Though that's not how Eberhardt buys it; suffice it to say that while it's a nice effect, I burst out laughing.) Isabelle Eberhardt was apparently a real person; the director tried to convince us after the screening that, while much of the film was based on periods of Eberhardt's life which are undocumented, the events here "could have" occurred. (Much as if Eberhardt "could have" been visited by space aliens or Elvis in the desert.) The production values are good, the photography excellent, and you get to see Peter O'Toole ride through the desert again, though not on a camel. (All it did was make me long for Maurice Jarre's soundtrack.) Lots of unintentional humor, but not enough to get you out to see it. Pfft.
THE WHITE ROOM (Canada, 1990 (US Premiere)):
THE WHITE ROOM is an engaging little fable about true love, voyeurism, the world's view of celebrities, shyness, murder and rock music. Sound interesting? It is, and except for a rather weak ending, it's a fascinating little movie, hovering between suspense and comedy. The fable format, with the narrator, is an excellent way to unfold the story, which deals with a young man who's voyeurism into a rock singer (Margot Kidder's) apartment makes him a witness to a brutal murder. Shaken up by this, he leaves home to find his way in the Big City; here, he uncovers several links to the murders, and meets a mysterious woman in black.
The director, Patricia Rozema, previously made I'VE HEARD THE MERMAIDS SINGING; from the descriptions, this film is quite a bit different than that one. One comes to care for the main characters, though (and despise one of them), and while the ending seems a bit of a band-aid to being painted into a plot corner, it's not too objectionable. If you like rather odd fairy tales (but not too odd), try this out.
Moriarty, aka Jeff Meyer
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