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LIFF 27 - The Battery - Cinema Review

'Jeremy Gardner's script is regularly witty, authentic and well-structured; his direction skilful, crafting a palpable, believable zombie-infested New England'

The Battery is a prime example of a film being the victim of its own marketing. Touted as a new and different take on the zombie genre, much of the tone and perspective on a post-zombie-apocalypse world seen here can be pieced together from recent zombie offerings. To use a fairly blunt comparison, this is something like Zombieland meets 28 Days Later, although other clear influences include the likes of Shaun Of The Dead and Zack Snyder’s 2004 Dawn Of The Dead remake. This certainly doesn’t make The Battery a bad film, it just means that anyone going to see this on the promise of experiencing a wholly fresh and original zombie film might feel a little hard done by.

What The Battery should do is mark out Jeremy Gardner as a talent to watch. Gardner writes, directs and co-stars here, and impresses in all three roles. His script is regularly witty, authentic and well-structured; his direction skilful, crafting a palpable, believable zombie-infested New England, with the limited budget never limiting Gardner’s craftsmanship or invention.

The fact that the vast majority of the film focuses on just two characters, Ben (Gardner) and Mickey (Adam Cronheim), means The Battery’s success more often than not relies on the performances and chemistry from its co-leads. Thankfully this is never an issue, with both actors giving commendably strong performances, although Gardner is the more consistent and convincing of the two.

The film is at its very best when delivering nuggets of humour or imagination. A scene showing the pair vigorously brushing their teeth on a driveway after ransacking a house is a simple but very effective signifier of what has become important in everyday life. There are also some well-constructed comedy scenes throughout: Mickey making the most of his entrapment in a car by a female zombie pressed up against the window is particularly memorable, as is Ben using a captured zombie to help toughen up his travelling companion against his will.

The Battery’s less successful aspects are largely down to Gardner’s inexperience as a director, this being his inaugural film. Ben and Mickey spend most of the film wandering aimlessly, not aiming towards a particular goal or destination, which at times leaves the film in turn somewhat lacking in focus. Gardner introduces other survivors of the zombie outbreak here and there in the film, including references to a mysterious place called “the orchard”, but these elements are often left too underdeveloped to really take hold.

Gardner’s greatest mistake, however, is The Battery’s final act. The film shifts in style, which works initially but then stays with the same idea for much too long, knocking the momentum out of the story at precisely the wrong moment. It ends up feeling like Gardner is playing for time, delaying the ending of his film because he’s not sure exactly how to finish it. The Battery therefore comes to a close at arguably its weakest point; a shame, seeing as there is a great deal here to both enjoy and admire. It may not be an all-new take on zombie movies, but it’s certainly a worthwhile addition to the genre as well as an indicator of great things Gardner might very well be capable of doing as his career develops.

The 27th Leeds International Film Festival (LIFF) took place from the 6th-21st November at cinemas around the city, including Hyde Park Picture House and Leeds Town Hall. More information is available via the official LIFF website.

By Ben Broadribb. Ben is a regular contributor to Film Intel, having previously written at Some Like It Hot Fuzz. He is normally seen in the wild wearing t-shirts containing obscure film references. He is a geek, often unashamedly so. He's also on Google+ and Twitter.

LIFF27 - Cannibal Holocaust - Cinema Review

'uneven, unfocused and unpleasant'

Before anything else about Cannibal Holocaust should be considered, a pretty hefty moralistic elephant in the room alongside the film needs to be discussed. Cannibal Holocaust contains several scenes of animal slaughter. Not recreated animal slaughter using special effects or camera trickery, but animals being killed on screen for entertainment. Whilst undoubtedly one of the main reasons behind the notoriety the film gained upon its release, it’s still undeniably a major issue surrounding the film even today.

It’s purely coincidental, as Sam has already mentioned, that this site seems to have stumbled through a short anthology of animal cruelty in cinema, with more than one recent review also entering this sordid and unsavoury area of filmmaking. The 21st Century’s easiest form of research - typing something into your search engine of choice - reveals that animal cruelty is perhaps something more prolific in the movies than all those animal welfare notices in the credits of modern Hollywood offerings would have us believe. Even Apocalypse Now, one of the most critically acclaimed films ever made, apparently laid waste to a water buffalo or two (although the circumstances sound slightly less clear-cut than in Cannibal Holocaust).

Whilst some might attempt to argue the case either way, for me it’s pretty simple: animal slaughter and animal cruelty of any kind being carried out to make an entertainment film cannot be justified. The slaughter depicted in Cannibal Holocaust includes (but is not limited to) a turtle being brutalised, a pig being kicked a few times before being shot at close range, and a monkey having the top of its skull cut off whilst still alive (a scene which was apparently shot twice, meaning two monkeys were killed). It makes no difference what happened to the animals after these scenes were filmed; the primary purpose for their deaths was Deodato wanting to make his film more entertaining, more brutal, more extreme. The deaths were not humane, but were intentionally gruesome. Why should any filmmaker have that right?

Whilst this is clearly a major element in both the filmmaking process and in my enjoyment (or lack thereof) of Cannibal Holocaust, it actually makes up a relatively small amount of the film’s running time. Considering Deodato’s film outside of the director’s choice to include animal slaughter - if it is indeed possible to do so - this feels very much like a film of two halves. The first half sees anthropologist Harold Monroe (Robert Kerman) along with a rescue party head into the Amazon region where a film crew went missing some months before, with the intention of either bringing the crew back or finding out what happened to them. This section, whilst somewhat dated, sees Cannibal Holocaust at its best, with Monroe a likeable and well-crafted protagonist approaching the indigenous tribes of the region largely with the respect and caution they deserve.

The second half is mostly made up of the “footage” shot by the missing crew that Monroe recovers, essentially meaning we see the film’s events folded back over themselves and out of chronological order. The second half is much less compelling, with the film crew consistently coming across as arrogant, ignorant, unlikeable and cruel. The film degenerates into scenes not only of animal slaughter, but of unspeakable cruelty towards the native tribes, unnecessarily exhibitionist sex and despicable gang rape, before Deodato brings us his crowning glory with scenes that make Cannibal Holocaust truly live up to its name.

Whilst it’s true that Deodato’s film has had a unquestionable influence on the horror genre that can still be seen - not least through its use of the “found footage” style, now not only prolific in modern horror but also making its mark more and more in other genres as well - in itself Cannibal Holocaust is uneven, unfocused and unpleasant. That is, may I add, before you even consider the animal slaughter carried out in the name of entertainment. Influence be damned: this is a film with nastiness and shock value at its heart made by a director who (even if he today regrets the cruelty he carried out) was willing to plumb any depths to reach new extremes. I may not have been able to take my eyes off Cannibal Holocaust throughout, but for the vast majority of its running time, it was for all the wrong reasons.

LIFF27 - Lasting - Cinema Review

'Where the first half might be equal measures sweet and then, eventually, somewhat dramatic, there's never any fruits at the end of that labour. After half an hour of building up a nice Romance, Borcuch abandons it'

Jacek Borcuch's Lasting has an extremely promising first third, before things fall away somewhat un-spectacularly in the film's second half.

Meeting on a holiday job in Spain, Michal (Jakub Gierszal) and Karina (Magdalena Berus) enjoy a sweet Summer romance, before the former heads off back to Poland. Just before he is due to leave however, an altercation with a local looks as though it might have lasting implications for both youngsters.

Only, the altercation actually has no implications for either of them, which is partly why Lasting feels like such an empty vessel. Where the first half might be equal measures sweet and then, eventually, somewhat dramatic, there's never any fruits at the end of that labour. After half an hour of building up a nice Romance, Borcuch abandons it in favour of pursuing something else, which his film then never turns into.

Instead, we enter a bit of a gloomy narrative, where Michal and Karina have to overcome more everyday problems, which seem, frankly, a little dull in comparison to the setup of the first third. It seems very odd to focus on these areas, when Borcuch had apparently spent the time setting up something much more thrilling. If he hadn't bothered with the film's Significant Event then there could well have been a decent Drama of a different kind here.

Any interest that is left in the second half then is largely down to Borcuch's decision to focus on Karina, having initially leaned towards Michal. The story arc that Borcuch crafts in his writing is definitely one that leans towards his female lead, but a lesser director would stick to the tried and tested route of following the male protagonist. Bravo to this one for not, although ultimately his narrative isn't strong enough to sustain the film, no matter which way it goes.

By Sam Turner. Sam is editor of Film Intel, and can usually be found behind a keyboard with a cup of tea. He likes entertaining films and dislikes the other kind. He's on Google+, Twitter and several places even he doesn't yet know about.

LIFF27 - Ghost Graduation - Cinema Reviews

'Some of the spectral students are so heavily based on Breakfast Club characters they may as well just be dead, Spanish versions of them.'

If he had so desired, director Javier Ruiz Caldera could have wandered down some really quite dark alleyways with Ghost Graduation, with the blueprint for a film centred around teen angst, untimely death and psychological damage via the supernatural. Instead, he kicks things off with Whigfield’s “Saturday Night” piped over the film’s opening scene of a mid nineties school disco and doesn’t look back. Make no mistake, Ghost Graduation is an unashamedly fun film that it’s hard not to get swept away by.

Imagine The Sixth Sense crossed with The Breakfast Club blended together with a generous helping of comedy and you’ve pretty much nailed not only Ghost Graduation’s tone and style but also much of its story. Caldera is fairly shameless in his influence from other films, particularly John Hughes’ brat pack classic. Some of the spectral students are so heavily based on Breakfast Club characters they may as well just be dead, Spanish versions of them. But the performances from all five spooky scholars are so endearing and entertaining throughout that Caldera’s film succeeds in treading the fine line between being a tribute to and a parody of the eighties movies the director clearly adores.

Bridging the divide between the living and the afterlife, Raúl Arévalo deftly anchors the film as teacher of the dead Modesto, confidently realising the film’s combination of the darkly comedic, sharply deadpan and lightheartedly slapstick. The script from Cristóbal Garrido and Adolfo Valor is regularly tight, taking in opportunities for everything from ironic jokes at the expense of Michael Jackson and George Michael to a wonderful series of scenes between Modesto, his psychiatrist (Joaquín Reyes) and the ghost of his psychiatrist’s father (Luis Varela), who also happens to be a psychiatrist. Ghost Graduation is regularly laugh-out-loud funny, as attested not only by me but also by the majority of the people in the cinema with me.

As much as there is to like about Caldera’s film, there are also clear reasons why it never manages to become genuinely excellent cinema. The story, whilst enjoyable, is undeniably episodic and at times fails to venture far enough away from well-trodden ground - the idea of ghosts having “unfinished business” as seen here has been used so many times before that it’s now hard to accept as much more than a safe cliché to fall back on. As likeable as many of the characters are, most never receive much more than the basic levels of development to make sure the film works. The relationship between Modesto and headteacher Tina (Alexandra Jiménez) is simple but sweet; less successful is the student romance between ghost Jorge (Jaime Olías) and living Elsa (Aura Garrido), somewhat uncomfortable to follow throughout and ending up as one of the least satisfyingly resolved elements here.

Whilst certainly never perfect, Ghost Graduation gets by more than well enough on the many elements it does well. Caldera knows precisely the kind of entertaining movie he wants to make and consistently succeeds in doing this. Whilst never threatening to explore any deep or meaningful questions, Ghost Graduation has both heart and humour throughout. It may not have been the best film I saw at Leeds this year, but Ghost Graduation was certainly the most enjoyable.

LIFF27 - The Strange Little Cat - Cinema Review

'Zürcher sets his film almost entirely in the confines of the family apartment, creating an entirely believable and authentic domestic setting, but then does painfully little with it other than subject us to mildly quirky - and increasingly tedious - family life.'

Doing very little to counter the stereotype that Germans have no sense of humour, The Strange Little Cat is not only a comedy that will fail to make you laugh (I think I managed a half-hearted titter at a couple of points) but also will for the most part fail to engage as a meaningful piece of cinema from any genre. You may also be tempted to contact trading standards after watching, as the featured feline is neither especially little nor particularly strange.

Director Ramon Zürcher chooses for his focus the comings and goings of an average German family over the course of a day, with three generations coming together for a family meal as brother and sister Karin (Anjorka Strechel) and Simon (Luk Pfaff) return home to visit their mother (Jenny Schily) and father (Matthias Ditmer). If that were the set up for the film’s story then The Strange Little Cat could have ended up as an entertaining domestic piece. When it forms the whole plot, things begin wearing thin rather quickly.

I’ve seen others describe The Strange Little Cat as minimalist, but in all honesty I can’t accept that as anything other than making excuses for a boring film where very little happens. Zürcher sets his film almost entirely in the confines of the family apartment, creating an entirely believable and authentic domestic setting, but then does painfully little with it other than subject us to mildly quirky - and increasingly tedious - family life. The director’s use of sound (or, to be more precise, noise) is at times intriguing. Noticeable audial intrusions throughout come from machines and contraptions around the apartment - as well as several occasions of interminable shouting from youngest sibling Clara (Mia Kasalo) - but, aside from the fact that there would naturally be parts of life filled with unwanted noise, Zürcher never offers much reason for including these sounds in particular.

This becomes a running theme throughout Zürcher’s film: he either elects not to explain why certain elements are there, or fails to take them anywhere interesting enough to make them worthwhile. There are, for example, a handful of odd, dreamlike tales related by various characters throughout. It’s likely the director was aiming to lace his work with metaphorical messages through these moments, but all they ever do is provide a break to a different setting, often in a somewhat pretentious manner. The mother too occasionally emerges as a focal character, with a suggestion of her being unhappy with her life, but again the director fails to take this thread anywhere meaningful.

It would be unfair to brand Zürcher’s film as a complete failure, as there are definite moments that deserve praise. The director features some genuinely beautiful photography throughout his film, especially when focused upon animals or elements from nature. The cast too cannot justifiably be criticised: all do the best they can with the unexciting material provided. Those elements considered, however, there is just too much here that fails to engage. Whilst Zürcher is clearly capable of impressive camerawork, he largely opts for long static shots which, whilst providing the realism he clearly craves, are just dull. At one point he makes us sit through an entire game of Connect 4 without cutting away once. There’s a reason Connect 4 is not a spectator sport.

LIFF27 - Concrete Night - Cinema Review

'Ilkka's characterisation in particular follows a trend established in this sort of offering where potential areas of interest within the plot are ignored or sidelined.'

Slobbering men do not equal poignancy, such is one of the main lessons to take away from Finnish director Pirjo Honkasalo's film, Concrete Night, which ends on a shot intended to pull at your heart strings, comprised of exactly that.

The failing in the finale perhaps speaks to greater problems elsewhere. In his examination of young Simo (Johannes Brotherus), Honkasalo gives us very, very little of his character to go on. Half-caught snatches of conversation with his brother (Jari Virman), glimpses inside his dreams, small bits of talk with a friend. Is there a hint here that Simo is struggling to define his sexuality, or that perhaps he struggles to relate properly to people on a cognitive level? Perhaps both, but neither defined enough to say for certain. Given little to go off, Virman makes for an awkward presence, meaning it is difficult even to sympathise with him.

His brother, Ilkka, apparently caught up in some level of evil-doing, which means he is shortly off to prison, provides some interest but also develops a horrible misogynistic streak that seems to go nowhere and serve no purpose apart from to turn us off him as well of Simo. Ilkka's characterisation in particular follows a trend established in this sort of offering where potential areas of interest within the plot are ignored or sidelined.

In Concrete Night's case, there's Ilkka's murky past and his uncertain future to start things off, but even they aren't the plot's main crimes against narrative. Simo's occasional dreams highlight the sometimes gorgeous black and white cinematography (think Sin City, rather than classic cinema), but we visit them not often enough; only really significantly at the film's opening. A mid-film departure to Simo's interactions with a local man also hints at somewhere of interest we could have visited, but before we know it we're off again, to a murky forest scene, which admittedly looks gorgeous.

It isn't that Concrete Night is a beautiful but dull film; it's that it occasionally looks lovely and is almost always empty and I'm afraid those 'occasionals' weren't enough to sustain me even partially.

LIFF27 - Expedition To The End Of The World - Cinema Review

'be prepared for a heady mix of borderline boring, categorically pretentious conversations on our place in the universe and the state of the human race, spattered in between the predictably lovely photography'

During the early set-up to Expedition To The End Of The World, one of the 'artists' on a journey to the undiscovered waters of Greenland's North, in the company of some scientists, trips and accidentally discharges the gun he is carrying into the air. At this moment and a handful of others, it is possible to sit and wonder whether you are watching a Mockumentary of This Is Spinal Tap proportions, or something more 'real', complete with real levels of klutz.

In several segments, the artists who make up half of the crew appear to be setup to become the laughing stock of the journey but then, the scientists eventually don't fare much better either. One wears a distinctly un-scientific t-shirt which reads, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Fuck everything and become a pirate', whilst another spends a spectacularly long time preparing a research fishing net, only to catch nothing whatsoever, before proceeding to destroy his boatplane.

If that sounds like fun then be prepared for a heady mix of borderline boring, categorically pretentious conversations on our place in the universe and the state of the human race, spattered in between the predictably lovely photography and the occasional pratfalling. Director Daniel Dencik talks of similar concerns in the festival guide, leaving you wondering how much input he had to the scientist's discussions, if this is indeed a 'real' documentary. If that's the case then perhaps he would have been better served letting these obviously very clever people talk about whatever they wanted to: the frozen waters they're exploring, for example.

The confusion this engenders around how much of the film is entirely staged, how much is setup by Dencik and how much is actual document of real happenings should really take a back seat though to the fact that, no matter which of those options are true, the muddle between them leads to a pretty un-engaging film.

It's difficult to knock the beautiful nature photography, but then, shouldn't that be a given? The balance leaves you with tonally deaf character moments, detached musings on anthropology and biology and glimpses of drama (note the bit where two crew members are dumped into the sea whilst apparently trying to look at the hull - never explained) that Dencik seems uninterested in. There's some decent content here but it's extraordinarily badly managed, through a raft of shifts that don't help to engage.

The 27th Leeds International Film Festival (LIFF) takes place from the 6th-21st November at cinemas around the city, including Hyde Park Picture House and Leeds Town Hall. Tickets and more information are available via the official LIFF website.

LIFF27 - Computer Chess - Cinema Review

'“ironically dull” is still dull'

Computer Chess is an awkward marriage of the bold and the boring. There are notable stretches of the film which are undeniably tedious, and you get the impression director Andrew Bujalski, known as the “Godfather of Mumblecore”, wanted it that way. It makes little difference; “ironically dull” is still dull when played out in front of you. Bujalski is at several points throughout Computer Chess willing to sacrifice making something interesting for making something painstakingly authentic.

Speaking of authenticity, Computer Chess’ cannot be faulted. Bar one scene, Bujalski chooses for his film a grainy, bleary monochrome crafting the uncanny look of an amateurish documentary shot using early eighties technology - exactly what Computer Chess is, for the most part, intended to be. Bujalski nails the throwback feel comprehensively, from the costumes to the sets to the chess-playing computer technology on show. It’s this commitment to creating a film as close in style to a primitive eighties documentary as possible that also ends up as Bujalski’s downfall at several points. There are sequences, particularly during the first act, seriously lacking in focus that go on considerably too long and simply fail to engage.

Once Bujalski is satisfied that he’s established the period aesthetic of his film, however, he then allows things to develop in various ways, some of which are perhaps less expected than others. Computer Chess is often at its best when at its most comedic. It’s probably no surprise that at least some of the humour is derived through the subtle skewering of “computer nerd” culture, especially during the scenes focused upon the chess tournament rounds. Thankfully, Bujalski manages to just about keep things subtle enough to avoid slipping into either hackneyed teen movie or grossly offensive territory.

The film is better, however, when deriving laughs from elements away from nerd culture, be it through tightfisted tournament competitor Michael Papageorge’s (Myles Paige) various solutions to not having a room to stay in at the hotel, or the venue’s unexplained cat infestation which worsens throughout the film. One memorable scene between awkward programmer Peter Bishton (Patrick Riester) and a husband and wife staying at the hotel as part of a bizarrely entertaining religious group arguably covers well-trodden comedy ground, but is crafted so well I found myself laughing out loud.

Bujalski’s secondary focus here is on the sci-fi-tinged surreal, which becomes more and more prominent in the film’s second half. The director raises questions about human interaction with computers and technology - at first overtly and then more and more subtly - as well as blurring the lines between the two every so often with some seriously weird results. There are scenes in Computer Chess reminiscent of David Lynch, but too often Bujalski has neither the control nor the refinement of vision to carry off this Lynchian style successfully enough, meaning some scenes end up entirely bewildering.

Computer Chess is a true original, unlike anything else you will have seen this year (or indeed any other), and Bujalski deserves credit for that. There are undeniable points when the film becomes just too odd for its own good - at times I felt alienated to the point of not being sure of what I was actually watching. That said, if you’re willing to endure the more wearisome and less successful sections of Bujalski’s film, the humour and invention squirrelled away within Computer Chess delivers some of the year’s most uniquely entertaining cinema.

LIFF27 - Soulmate - Cinema Review

'If it had continued in the vein of the first scene then yes, you probably would have found me horizontal at some point, but at least that would have been preferable to the borderline boredom that sets in.'

Although I would not claim to be a Horror nut, I am a Horror fan. Despite this, there are still certain things in the genre that push my buttons, making me squirm or turn away, putting me off seeing films or registering on my disgust meter^tm; essentially doing their job.

The opening scene of Axelle Carolyn's Soulmate has one such thing and, despite my reservations about the rest of the film, I cannot deny that this was well executed and did it's very physical job well; my head went light, I turned away and, for the first time I can remember in a cinema, I don't mind admitting that I came close to passing out. I can't say that Soulmate is an entirely ineffective film, because clearly, that scene had a very tangible effect on me, showing me something I'm uncomfortable watching, and the patrons of Hyde Park who happened to be sitting in the balcony that night nearly found themselves with a body to carry downstairs.

What proves quite frustrating then is that, after this scene, Soulmate has absolutely nothing about it to engender a recommendation, nor nothing as harsh as that opening scene. Carolyn's film is tame from this point forwards; worse than that in fact, it's asinine, badly acted, poorly directed and shaggily conceived. If it had continued in the vein of the first scene then yes, you probably would have found me horizontal at some point, but at least that would have been preferable to the borderline boredom that sets in.

The main problem - and the disconnect between the opening scene and the rest of the film hints at this - is tone. At the start, Soulmate seems to be setting its stall out as a harsh Horror. The next segment could be a fairly effective haunted house narrative, if it was well acted, and that might just about have fitted in with the opening, but somewhere around the middle third, Soulmate loses it entirely.

'ITV drama' was an accusation bandied around afterwards, 'a bit like Harry Potter' was another. You can see how its ideas just didn't mesh. At one point, and remember we're in a film that gave me the above opening reaction, heroine Audrey (Anna Walton) sits down to play chess with a ghost, giggling like a schoolgirl as his mind-power pushes pieces too far.

Unfortunately it gets worse. The experienced Nick Brimble delivers dialogue as though he doesn't understand it (possibly the case), whilst his on-screen wife Theresa (Tanya Myers) has so many twists of character Myers can't keep up, eventually ending up in exposition mode. A lowlight is a scene late on, where Walton finds herself 'imprisoned' behind those most threatening of makeshift prisons; two chairs. Inexplicably, she can't get out. Until she does. Even Scream's various damsels in distress didn't have to put up with this shit.

LIFF27 - The Future - Cinema Review

'Scherson boldly - and at times surreally - tackles concepts as wide ranging as spirituality, the supernatural, the impact of emotion upon us and our surroundings, and even our place in the universe. Varied levels of success are achieved'

Central to the success of The Future is the small cast director Alicia Scherson has assembled. Nobody here gives anything less than a good performance; at the core, there is excellence. Rutger Hauer and Manuela Martelli individually are superb, but regularly bring the film to its zenith when sharing the screen. Martelli inhabits 19-year-old Bianca comprehensively, revealing complex layers to the character throughout (also, try to avoid finding out how old she actually is until after you’ve seen the film). Hauer’s role as an ageing former Mr. Universe could at many points have slipped into caricature or farce; instead the veteran actor controls and crafts his performance with precision. It’s a wonder Hauer hasn’t yet been snapped up by the likes of Quentin Tarantino for a truly career-galvanising role.

The cast provides a solid foundation upon which Scherson is able to unfold an unorthodox story, taking in an eclectic array of themes and ideas. Recently orphaned Bianca and her younger brother Tomas (Luigi Ciardio) are quickly left to their own devices by the authorities, and there is no way you could predict the direction the plot takes from there. Scherson boldly - and at times surreally - tackles concepts as wide ranging as spirituality, the supernatural, the impact of emotion upon us and our surroundings, and even our place in the universe. Varied levels of success are achieved, but nothing ever feels out of place.

Essentially a film about both Bianca and Tomas filling the void left by their parents’ death, The Future sees the siblings both seeking out father figures and exploring taboos. Scherson is never afraid to blur the lines between the two, be it Tomas seeking guidance on approaching adolescence through watching pornography and emulating his questionable mentors, personal trainers Libio (Nicolas Vaporidis) and Boloñes (Alessandro Giallocosta), or Bianca’s simultaneously sexual and paternal bond with Maciste.

As both director and screenwriter, Scherson is dismissive in her presentation of sex when not attached to a meaningful relationship, even if that relationship encroaches upon uncomfortable taboos. In the hands of a less skilled filmmaker this could become a seedy and sordid story, but Scherson handles her material with bravery and focus making The Future a captivating experience throughout. Ideas of strength and weakness, especially masculinity, also persist alongside a powerful and intriguing use of light and dark. It’s no coincidence that Maciste’s name translates from Italian as “strongman”, or that Bianca’s can mean both “white” and “blank”.

One or two less successful elements do hold Scherson’s film back a little. The narrative voice used - that of Bianca looking back from an indeterminate point in the future - is never quite developed enough to make it anything more than a curiosity, which considering the opening lines of Bianca’s narration feels like something of a missed opportunity. It’s likely that Scherston wanted to keep things intentionally vague, but a little more clarity could have elevated her film even further. The ending also feels somewhat out of nowhere, almost as if Scherson wasn’t entirely sure where and how to finish her story, so she just allowed it to stop.

Any flaws here are both minor and forgivable in what is one of the most compelling films of the year, one which will linger long in your memory. If you’re anything like me, you’ll be making more and more connections, turning over lines and interactions, images and scenes, in the hours and days after watching The Future - something that only great cinema can make you do.

LIFF27 Day Summary - 17th November - Bugs, Burgers and Boring Anime

My third and final day in Leeds saw me fall victim to having never visited the city before and being taken in by claims of a “world famous” burger at Northern Monkey, a pub across the road between The Light and the Town Hall. Called the Monkey Burger (only now, rereading that name, am I suddenly concerned it may have contained actual monkey), it looked impressive enough on the plate. Sadly, King Kong turned out to actually be Abu from Aladdin in disguise, as the burger - whilst not terrible - was somewhat flavourless and not nearly as filling as this busy film reviewer had hoped. As for the venue, the lone bar lady was perfectly friendly, but the fact that there were no more than two other customers in Northern Monkey at any time whilst I was there (coupled with the sticky carpet on the stairs down to the gents, which had also seen better days) served as a final indicator that I had, in fact, not stumbled across one of Leeds’ finest eateries. I’m also calling shenanigans on the Monkey Burger being “world famous”. Ah well, live and learn.

Before monkeys, it was ants at Hyde Park Picture House as I experienced the joys of Antboy during one of LIFF’s specially scheduled weekend morning screenings aimed at children. Whilst the Picture House was considerably less than half full, it’s a shame to say there were woefully few minors in attendance. Perhaps some road closures for the Leeds Abbey Dash charity bicycle ride were a factor; but with quality foreign cinema made for youngsters as enjoyable and well-crafted as Antboy on offer, it’s a crime that more parents aren’t taking advantage of a rare and valuable opportunity. As for the film, despite being a little slight and occasionally forgetting to put its tongue in its cheek, it was a highly entertaining and worthwhile way to spend a Sunday morning. Sam reviewed Antboy last week, and I’m largely in agreement with his views.

Antboy watched and Monkey Burger crestfallenly consumed, my second film of the day was Steins;Gate The Movie: Loading Area Of Déjà Vu, showing as part of LIFF’s Fanomenon Anime Day. I went in with very little experience of anime films, and unfortunately Steins;Gate made me unlikely to return to the genre any time soon. Admittedly I was unaware that the film had an entire TV series preceding it, which may have helped me understand and appreciate it a little more, but to be frank it came across as convoluted, pretentious and obstinately esoteric. I couldn’t even tell you what the title actually means. Despite determinedly sticking with it until about the halfway point, Steins;Gate failed to hold my interest, making it the only film of the festival I would choose not to see if I could go back and change my decision.

Wavemakers ended up being my final film of the day, and indeed the festival. After Steins;Gate, I was hoping for anything that could pique my interest, and initially Wavemakers did just that. A documentary focusing on the Ondes Martenot, an electronic musical instrument once touted as the future of music making but now a rarity, the film was at its strongest when focused upon the instrument’s history and its inventor, Maurice Martenot. However, I gradually found Wavemakers lost focus, leaving its audience behind to concentrate on various passionate Martenot enthusiasts waxing lyrical about the device and their love for it.

A mixed movie to finish on therefore, and arguably my least successful day at LIFF. But I will take with me fond memories of my first time in Leeds, and I’m already looking forward to hopefully returning for the Film Festival again next year.

The 27th Leeds International Film Festival (LIFF) takes place from the 6th-21st November at cinemas around the city, including Hyde Park Picture House and Leeds Town Hall. Tickets and more information are available via the official LIFF website.

LIFF27 - Circles - Cinema Review

'there is perhaps little here that Golubovic and screenwriters Srdjan Koljevic and Melina Pota Koljevic are saying about war that hasn't been said before but, perhaps like all great films, it is the way in which they say it'

Serbia's submission for this year's Best Foreign Language Film at The Academy Awards, Circles faces stuff competition if it is to make it to the final five nominees, out of the seventy-six films proposed. Then again though, despite the fact that some of those films feature more recognisable names, it is difficult to imagine that there are five better films amongst them than Srdan Golubovic's human and well-written Bosnian War Drama.

In essence there is perhaps little here that Golubovic and screenwriters Srdjan Koljevic and Melina Pota Koljevic are saying about war that hasn't been said before but, perhaps like all great films, it is the way in which they say it, and the way in which they weave stories together, that makes all of the difference.

At the height of the conflict Marko (Vuk Kostic) sees a group of fellow Sebian soldiers beating a Muslim man, Haris (Leon Lucev). Jumping in to remonstrate he is himself beaten to death by his fellow fighters. Step forwards several years and Marko's would-be bride, Nada (Hristina Popovic) arrives in Germany to seek Haris' help, whilst Marko's father Ranko (Aleksandar Bercek) and friend Nebojsa (Nebojsa Glogovac) face their own dilemmas.

Predictably, given the title, the early insinuation from Golubovic is that violent acts lead to other violent deeds. All of the characters - save perhaps Ranko - have been subsequently touched by violence since Marko's death and all of them require assistance of some sort to overcome the challenges they now face. This isn't a new narrative, nor is it perhaps subtly considered by Golubovic, but the message still rings true and each of the characters feels well drawn and considered.

That fact is absolutely helped by the three borderline-incredible performances Bercek, Glogovac and Popovic put in. Bercek in particular, forced to confront the son of his own son's killer, creates a hulking, respectful, silent man, drawn on by a biblical quest (he's building a church on a hill, moving it stone by stone from another location) and perhaps a semi-hidden desire to finally close things off. Glogovac, a doctor, similarly finds himself up against a situation which seems solely to exist to enable him to gain closure, though it would require a violence of a sort. Can he follow the way that would appease his conscience, or is there a lesson to learn from Marko?

In the programme notes, the director talks of Circles as something of a personal attempt at reconciliation, having been around 100km from the frontline of the fighting himself. It's not for me to say whether Circles has provided him with some sort of relief, but certainly his fiction rings with the truth of the story it is based on, pushing us towards a promise, hope and honesty, which never feels like the Disneyland version of those concepts. This is honest and in that way it has followed 'Marko's' real-life lesson to the letter.

On a final note to do with honesty, the concluding scenes see Golubovic return to something kept off the screen for the first part of the film. You can understand why, eventually, he chooses to show it. An event repeated throughout nations, wars and civilisations, it is horrifying not only in itself but also in the consequences we have just had to endure. 'You need to see', Golubovic seems to say, and indeed, in several ways, he is right.

LIFF27 Day Summary - 16th November - Blokes vs Zombies; Teachers vs Ghosts; Techies vs Board Games (and Ben vs Buses)

Alright, I’ll get it out of the way now: the food updates don’t get much more exciting today, with lunch courtesy of Nando’s (certainly scrummy, but hardly a niche venue). Dinner, however, was procured from Pitza Cano round the corner from Hyde Park Picture house. A standard takeaway joint in some ways, made noteworthy by selling pizza you can see being made from scratch before being cooked, and which is pleasantly lacking in grease or artificiality. Definitely worth a look if you finish your day in Leeds with a later showing at the Picture House and need something quick and tasty to take home for dinner.

Anyway, enough about my unhealthy eating habits. Another foursome of films today began at midday in the town hall with The Battery. Touted as a new and alternative spin on the zombie genre, the film may end up as a victim of its own publicity: there’s not much here which hasn’t been seen before in terms of zombies. What makes The Battery worthwhile is the buddy dynamic between the two main characters, as well as the fact that writer-director-producer-star Jeremy Gardner made the film on a minuscule $12,000 US. Reminiscent of Shane Carruth’s Primer in tone as well as budget, the film never reaches the mind-blowing heights of Carruth’s sci-fi wonder but is certainly entertaining, well made and worth seeing.

Back then to The Light for the first of a trio of films at Vue, starting with Ghost Graduation. Imagine The Sixth Sense played for laughs and mashed up with scenes from The Breakfast Club all in Spanish, and you’re not far off the feel and content of Ghost Graduation. A perpetually light-hearted comedy with a dark, deadpan streak right down the centre, this had me and many others laughing throughout. It’s also a film I can see someone in Hollywood clamoring to remake in English; it could work, but it could also be destroyed by that delicious black comedy element being toned down to young-teenage-Disney levels of blandness. High School Funeral, anyone? Thought not.

Computer Chess had my previous unimpressive experience of mumblecore to contend with, and in that respect I must consider it a success. I’ve not seen any of director Andrew Bujalski’s previous work, but based on the originality of Computer Chess I’d be inclined to give his other films a go. With stretches which baffled me to the point of not being entirely sure what it was I was actually watching, Bujalski’s film also holds the dubious honour of being the weirdest film I’ve seen in Leeds so far, which when up against the likes of The Future and Cannibal Holocaust is an achievement in itself. Surely one which will divide opinion like Moses and the Red Sea.

Rounding off the day was Chris Eska’s The Retrieval, which Sam both watched and reviewed earlier this week. Redigesting Sam’s assessment of the film, I find myself largely in agreement: a good film certainly, but also one which never gets close enough to excellence, although you feel at least two of the central trio in the film - Tishuan Scott* and Ashton Sanders - deserve to have their stars rise. I was marginally less impressed with Keston John, although he may have suffered from getting the rough end of the deal in terms of the script. I occasionally felt his dialogue jarred against the Civil War setting, sounding too modern to feel genuine.

Leeds’ buses worked to placate me today after yesterday’s transgression through lateness: the bus into town got me there in time for the start of The Battery, in spite of my running behind schedule this morning following Friday’s late night Cannibal Holocaust screening; and the bus back was conveniently waiting at the stop as I approached this evening. Long may this public transport excellence continue (i.e. don’t ruin it tomorrow, number 56).

*IMDb has, as I write, informed me that Scott also appeared in Computer Chess; such incredible a difference is there between the two strong performances that I failed to recognise it was the same actor.

The 27th Leeds International Film Festival (LIFF) takes place from the 6th-21st November at cinemas around the city, including Hyde Park Picture House and Leeds Town Hall. Tickets and more information are available via the official LIFF website.

LIFF27 Day Summary - 15th November - Cats, Cannibals and Controversy

A word of warning before I begin recounting my first day at the 27th Leeds International Film Festival - and indeed, my first time in Leeds at all - that, on the first day at least, my food exploits will pale in comparison to Sam’s. The most exciting it got was a ham and cheese sandwich from M&S at a motorway service station - a very tasty (if slightly pricey) ham and cheese sandwich, but pretty boring stuff.

Unfortunately, large chunks of my first film, The Strange Little Cat screened at Vue in The Light, made me yearn for the exhilaration of pork and dairy nestled between two slices of bread I had experienced earlier. Whilst it looked very pretty at several points throughout, my inaugural Leeds movie was really rather dull. No story as such, no genuinely engaging characters, and too many lingering static shots. I’m all for making films feel like real life, but when you’re focusing mainly on the boring bits of real life, what’s the point? I was also tempted to contact trading standards, with the titular feline neither particularly little nor strange.

No travel needed for the second film of the day, Summer House, which was a notable improvement upon the first, although it covered similar themes and areas in several ways: a focus on ordinary people and the details of their lives, a style intended to evoke realism, and a setting that stayed largely in one place. The difference with Summer House was a few stand-out performances within the cast and dynamic direction from the co-directors. Even though both films clearly had different aims, it was an interesting introduction to Leeds to have the first two films I watched share facets whilst achieve considerably different levels of success.

To Hyde Park Picture House next, via my first experience of the cruel toying antics in which Leeds’ bus service seemingly takes pleasure. The illuminated bus countdown panel informed me of a number 56 bus’ impending arrival, only for it to disappear from the screen with no bus materialising. A game of “guess how long it’ll actually take for the bus to arrive” then ensued, with the chances of me arriving at the Picture House for the start of my third film reducing every second. Thankfully, although a good twenty minutes late, the tardy double decker eventually got me there in time.

And very glad I am now of that fact too, as The Future ended up being the best watch of the day. An oddity of a movie which chips away at you long after you’ve finished watching and featuring excellent performances from its largely young cast alongside veteran Rutger Hauer, The Future’s story takes in ideas of spirituality, the supernatural, father figures and our place in the universe, amongst many others. It’s a film that continues to grow on me the more I mull it over.

My first day concluded with a special treat of veteran Italian director Ruggero Deodato undertaking a Q&A session at Hyde Park Picture House before a screening of his most famous film, 1980’s seminal horror Cannibal Holocaust. The discussion with Deodato was fascinating, not only as an insight into filmmaking in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, but also to see that the man behind one of the most infamously censored and banned films of all time is actually a charming, avuncular gent.

Deodato had a seemingly endless treasure trove of stories surrounding Cannibal Holocaust, many to do with the reaction to its initial release. He also passed judgement on more modern films and directors, professing to being a fan of Tarantino’s work but casually dismissed The Blair Witch Project as “shit”. The controversial issue of animal slaughter - of which actual footage features at a few points in the film - was also covered in various ways. Interestingly, Deodato stated that he does regret including the footage, but also noted that he had seen an edited version of Cannibal Holocaust released in parts of Europe and felt that the film was missing something integral with it omitted. It’s something I’ll touch on further alongside my own viewpoint when I review the film, but I was pleased to hear the still-contentious issue approached with intelligence and maturity by not only Deodato, but also his LIFF interviewer and the audience at the Picture House.

Cannibal Holocaust itself was an experience I will certainly never forget, having never seen the film before in any form. Many modern horror films, right up to the most recent releases, owe a lot to Deodato’s style and boundary-pushing content. The night was rounded off with a documentary about the making and release of the film, The Long Road Back From Hell - only around forty-five minutes in length, but as Cannibal Holocaust itself didn’t finish until around 1.50am, and with a full day of film-watching planned for the following day, like many of my fellow Picture House patrons I decided to call it a night, a diverse quartet of films under my belt from my first day in Leeds.

The 27th Leeds International Film Festival (LIFF) takes place from the 6th-21st November at cinemas around the city, including Hyde Park Picture House and Leeds Town Hall. Tickets and more information are available via the official LIFF website.

LIFF 27 - HK: Forbidden Super Hero - Cinema Review

'A film prominently featuring this much underwear has not right to be this boring.'

With new girl at school Aiko (Fumika Shimizu) held hostage by a group of masked robbers, would-be hero Kyosuke (Ryôhei Suzuki) barges in to save her. Disguising himself in what he thinks is one of the criminal's masks, he is disturbed to find that what he has put on his head is actually a pair of pants... little does he know that the pants give him super 'pervert powers', transforming him into superhero, Hentai Kamen.

Kyosuke's first dabble in applying underwear to his face is also the first, though sadly not last, time that HK: Forbidden Super Hero tells us its one and only joke. There should be a lot to like about Yûichi Fukuda's jolly film, but this is a piece that will quickly erode any charm it might have built up, the director obsessing over providing shot after shot of Kyosuke in various states of female dress or undress, posing in front of the camera, pontificating as he has to find his next pair of pants to boost his superpowers; which essentially boil down to having a large crotch and shoving it in various people's faces.

HK: Forbidden Super Hero is one of those legion of films which proves that having a good idea (bringing Keishû Andô's underground, parodical Manga to the big screen) isn't enough. You also need a good script, something which Fukuda's self-penned work is really lacking.

The result is that, after about half an hour and an effective funny prologue, there are no jokes to speak of, some very one-dimensional, un-funny villains and a plot going nowhere, and HK becomes something of a bore. It's no longer funny watching muscle-bound Suzuki posing in underwear and the central 'question' the film seems to pose (can a pervert also do some good?) isn't worth 90 minutes of your time.

Eventually the director confirms that he had indeed ran out of ideas, by finishing on the atypical blockbuster fight, pulling something gigantic enough to matter in this situation out of nowhere and guaranteeing a thoroughly un-involving finish. A film prominently featuring this much underwear has not right to be this boring.

HK: Forbidden Super Hero plays LIFF again on Wednesday 20th November at 16.00 in The Everyman.

The 27th Leeds International Film Festival (LIFF) takes place from the 6th-21st November at cinemas around the city, including Hyde Park Picture House and Leeds Town Hall. Tickets and more information are available via the official LIFF website.

LIFF27 - After School Midnighters - Cinema Review

'It's remarkable that a film so full of invention should then rely on something so familiar.'

On the face of things After School Midnighters might just be the craziest animation you've ever seen. With a cast of main characters that includes an anatomical skeleton and an actual skeleton, and a supporting cast that includes three zombie, gun-toting rabbits, it's little surprise to find that, at least in part, the apparent craziness of Hitoshi Takekiyo's film continues past face-value appearances.

What's perhaps more surprising than this though is that After School Midnighters, despite all of the craziness, manages to water itself down in some very familiar ways. The plot, most importantly, makes you wonder if this was originally conceived as a videogame.

A lead trio of stereotypically characterised protagonists are invited to a school by the aforementioned skeletons, who need them to complete three challenges, earn three gold medals and receive a wish they hope will be spent on saving the school. Taking up the challenge, our heroes face a level (sorry: 'scene') in a swimming pool, one in a computer room and a final challenge in the music room, as well as a side-quest in the abandoned old school building. It's exactly the sort of narrative that doesn't work when directors try to directly port games to screen; achieving this sort of thing yourself in-game is fun, watching someone else do it for you is not.

Of course, After School Midnighters is aimed at the very young, but even amongst that crowd present at the screening, there was some fidgeting; they knew exactly where this was going because the plot told them so at the very outset, and then did little to change expectations. It's remarkable that a film so full of invention should then rely on something so familiar.

As if to emphasise the fact that, to a degree, Takekiyo's film is all appearance and no substance, there's also some remarkably obvious product placement, with one of the skeletons spending every scene adjusting a laptop so that the logo of the producer does a nice little wiggle in front of your face. It's quite bizarre, and that's before you've even got to the legion of many little fish men and those Mafia-influenced rabbits.

After School Midnighters plays LIFF again on Monday 18th at 16.00 in The Everyman.

The 27th Leeds International Film Festival (LIFF) takes place from the 6th-21st November at cinemas around the city, including Hyde Park Picture House and Leeds Town Hall. Tickets and more information are available via the official LIFF website.