Tribeca Report 1 - The Hits

No longer a toddler, the Tribeca Film Festival reaches its half-decade mark this year. And like every rambunctious five year-old, it makes its presence known, and almost impossible to ignore. From the American Express sponsored video booths to the American Express sponsored free popcorn stands that have popped up all over town, to the glossy bright pink program guides that are simply everywhere, you won't find a New Yorker who isn't at least somewhat aware of the festival's presence. That New York never had a festival that could compete (in size at least) with Berlin, Rotterdam or Toronto is surprising, though the TFF still has a way to go before reaching puberty, and maturing into a true peer of the aforementioned cities' festivals. It seems Tribeca hasn't yet figured out exactly what it wants to be. Is New York-based film at its core, with international entries at the periphery? Or is it more of a documentary film festival, with an emphasis on left-leaning and hot-topic issues? Judging by this year's schedule, it's hard to put your finger on it. The inclusion of RV, MI:3 and Poseidon doesn't make the task any easier. Though Americans dominate the festival (by a huge margin), a scan of the complete list of films by country says quite a bit — there are about a dozen features from the Middle East, while East Asia checks in with only three (including Chen Kaige's atrocious The Promise.) Is the implication that there were no Korean films deemed worthy for the festival (and only one from Japan, Toshiaki Toyoda's Hanging Garden), or is there an intentional de-emphasis on Asia (and Europe, to some extent)? The sheer size of the festival makes it impossible to catch everything, and bumping into a fellow blogger is extremely useful, for it's an opportunity to compare notes on what should be seen, and what must be avoided. As of this writing (the midpoint of the festival) I'd have to say the docs have an edge over the narratives, many of which were disappointing, or downright awful. That said, there have been a few strong narrative features, two of which I'll mention below.

It probably doesn't help matters that the first film I saw at the festival was the utterly magnificent Der Freie Wille (The Free Will), for no other film has come close to being this powerful, or having the same lasting effect. Winner of the Silver Bear for Artistic Contribution at the Berlinale, Der Freie Wille is a nearly three-hour film about rape that, while disturbing, is neither exploitative nor interested in mere shock value. (As director Matthias Glasner told me in an interview, "Gaspar Noé's Irreversible was useful in that it showed me exactly what I didn't want to do.") Co-producer, co-writer, and lead actor Jürgen Vogel plays Theo, a violent rapist who is released from an institution after serving nine years for a brutal, random attack of a young woman — portrayed in graphic detail in the film's unsettling opening fifteen minutes. Immersed back into society, Theo is determined to lead a normal life, even though he's honest about harboring similar urges to those that led him to rape. Glasner shows us the world through Theo's eyes — where every turn yields another form of temptation — from overtly sexual advertisements and pornography, to the young women who torment him on the street. Theo's life begins to change when he meets Nettie (the positively phenomenal Sabine Timoteo), a young woman suffering from another form of abuse. Though there's a tremendous unease and fragility about their relationship, Glasner's efforts at humanizing Theo leave the viewer in the awkward and uncomfortable position of finding him almost sympathetic. This is of course by design, for it is the director's wish that we not be merely spectators, but rather actively engage ourselves in Theo's thoughts and actions. Never a tale of victims or victimization, Der Freie Wille may not be the first cinematic portrait of a rapist, but it is the only one that successfully and unflinchingly drills down to the inner core to explore what it is that can drive someone to the most horrible of acts. (There's much more to say about the film, and I plan to once the festival is over.)

The first (and, so far, only) real surprise at the festival was Emmanuelle Bercot's Backstage, the lone film at the festival to land a US distribution deal. I honestly wasn't expecting much from actress-director Bercot's groupie-meets-idol story, but the film is a deliciously trashy rock and roll fantasy that plays out like a sleazy All About Eve. Isild Le Besco (imagine a French Scarlett Johansson, only poutier) is Lucie, a small-town teenager who worships at the temple of rock star Lauren Waks (Emmanuelle Seigner), who resembles another blonde rock icon, but who churns out Mylene Farmer-esque power ballads that drive the French teenies to tears. Though far more overtly sexual than Ms. Harry ever was (she's often sprawled out nude on her album covers), Lauren's fan base is primarily adolescent girls, owing in part to her tragic songs of love and loss. Too dumbstruck and emotional to utter a word to the idol when she unexpectedly shows up at her house (as part of some televised stunt), it's not long before Lucie says adieu to her small town as she flees to Paris to look for Lauren It is here that the film turns into every groupie's fantasy, as Lucie manages to become a fixture in the rock star's life. Lauren is pure stereotype — a demanding, vodka-swilling, pill-popping, insecure, emotional wreck who clings to the naive Lucie as a means of getting over the loss of her station-wagon-driving lover Daniel (Samuel Benchetrit), who walked out on her. The sexual psychodrama that follows breaks no new ground, though Bercot's take on fan idolatry does have a few unique and clever tricks up its sleeve. Bercot and Le Besco have worked together on quite a few projects, and the level of trust is evident. The role is quite demanding, both physically and emotionally, and Le Besco pulls it off (including blood, tears, and an astounding deer-in-the-headlights gaze) with a wonderful sense of both ease and genuineness. Seigner hasn't been this good since Bitter Moon, and her ability to switch from ice queen to hysterical diva is impressive, and never once descends into caricature. Yet the real star of the film is Agnès Godard, whose mostly hand-held cinematography (and extensive use of close-ups) is further proof that she is one of the greatest working cinematographers in the world. With a brilliant soundtrack (Seigner performs all her own songs), and enough raw energy for two films, Backstage is a neo-feminist look at celebrity worship that blends stark realism with pure cinematic melodrama. Next time: the misses.

Comments

[la_depressionada]

just bought a ticket. if it is one eighth as amusing as bitter moon, it will be worth it.

[Filmbrain]

Can't wait to hear what you think of it -- though I imagine this is right up your alley.

[Aaron Hillis]

I must admit I've never heard of Mylene Farmer.
Also, I heart both Ms. Le Besco + Mrs. Polanski.

[Rich Drees]

I'm sure that my opinion is probably in the minority, but I find that the Philadelphia Film Festival generally has a broader program of films with great programming tracks for Asian, Muslim, Latino and world cinemas, documentaries, American Indeoendents and the fun and funky Danger After Dark. Tribeca's big advantage is its PR machine...

[la_depressionada]

yeah paris. girls. sex. i'm such a guy. i saw clean btw even though sunshine is one of those theatres i generally avoid. nick nolte's best perf. since afflication.

[la_depressionada]

affliction.