I was incredibly happy to hear that Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul won the top prize, the Palme D’Or, at the 2010 Cannes Film Festival. Most people have never seen a film by Apichatpong, but if you have you likely had a strong reaction. You may have been bored or confused or both, but you likely didn’t forget the experience. He’s a filmmaker who is remarkably influenced by where he’s from, which is something you can say about many great filmmakers (Allen, Scorcese, De Sica), but in Weerasethakul’s case the influence of his homeland and his beliefs infuses his films with a kind of magic.

I admit I warmed up to his films slowly. The first one I saw was TROPICAL MALADY, and I was completely confused. There was no discernible narrative, the film literally changed into another film halfway through, and I couldn’t begin to tell you what any of it meant. But after subsequently seeing an earlier film of his, BLISSFULLY YOURS, I felt like I got where he was coming from. That film had more of a narrative to be sure, but it also felt like a good primer for Apichatpong’s lyrical style. Armed with this sense of understanding, I could revisit TROPICAL MALADY and view his next film, SYNDROMES AND A CENTURY, with full appreciation.

I resisted watching the trailer for his latest, the amazingly-titled UNCLE BOONMEE WHO CAN RECALL HIS PAST LIVES, but after it won the Palme I finally gave in. It’s lyrical, haunting, confusing, and you can tell a mile away it’s a film by Weerasethakul. It’s part of an ongoing project he’s been developing called “The PRIMITIVE Project“. More enlightening than trailer is this quote from Apichatpong that I found on the project site talking about the film:

A few years ago I visited a temple near my home and a monk there gave me a little book called “A Man Who Can Recall His Past Lives.” In it, the monk wrote about Boonmee, who could recall his multiple lives in the cities of the northeast. In 2008, I wrote a screenplay inspired by the reincarnation of Boonmee, and started to travel in the region in search of his surviving offspring and relatives. I met his two sons who provided accounts of their father.

He goes on to talk about a short film he made, perhaps a prequel of sorts, called A LETTER TO UNCLE BOONMEE which can be viewed online here. I haven’t yet forked over the $1 to watch it, and I’m not sure I want to before I see the feature. Much of the pleasure of watching Apichatpong’s films comes from not knowing how things will unfold and where the ebb and flow of the narrative will take you. So even though I’ve already read a fair amount about it, I’m going to hold off on learning any more until I get a chance to see the full feature on the big screen.

Sadly, his films have been barely appreciated in his homeland, but it was nice to read this morning that his win at Cannes is inspiring some celebration. The Thai cultural minister Teera Slukpetch was quoted saying “This kind of victory is what we really need at this time of crisis”, and he promised a hero’s welcome when the filmmaker returns to Thailand.

If you’re a fan of Apichatpong or want to learn more about his work and how he does it, I’d recommend watching this interview with him on the Cannes website.

Two years ago, I went to Cannes for the first time. It was the best festival experience I’ve ever had. WAY better than Sundance; better than festivals I’ve attended in Chicago, Texas, Massachusetts, Florida; better than any festival I’ve been to in New York; and even better than the International Doc Festival Amsterdam (although that fest is a close second).

Contrary to the crazy star-struck paparazzi image that tends to be the focus of mainstream coverage of the festival in the US, the heart and soul of Cannes is cinema. And not just any cinema, but global cinema. My visit there reaffirmed that the most exciting cinema in the world isn’t being made in the US. In fact, I saw almost 20 films with only one by an American director, and that one was one of the worst films I saw.

That’s not to say we can’t make good films here. But so often these days for whatever reason American films, mainstream and otherwise, tend to feel like they’ve all come from one mold. There’s a sameness to the storytelling and to the stories themselves that leaves one fearing that maybe there are no new ways to tell stories. Admittedly even at Cannes things can start to feel stale. The advent of “slow cinema”, which coincidentally or not has become a topic of discussion lately, is feeling like a sign of laziness in some quarters. But personally I’ll take a long static take any day over a nausea-inducing mumble-cam.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about Cannes is the fact that, while its heart and soul is cinema, its gut is the movie business. The sprawling Marché Du Film is the world’s largest movie trade show, and while the celebrities pose on the red carpet and the cineastes stroke their chins, the real deals are happening down in the basement of the Palais. The contrast is about as stark as possible, and somehow the lack of pretention down there creates a perfect balance with the high-minded goings-on in the Salle DeBussy and Grand Theatre Lumiere.

I’ve yearned to go back to the Croisette since my first trip, but I’m not there this year and probably won’t be back unless (fingers crossed) something I’m involved with ends up there down the line. I’m happy to know two people with projects at Cannes this year. A fellow editor, who got his start about the same time I did, cut a film that’s already getting good reviews after its premiere on Sunday. And another friend has a short she produced premiering later this week in the Critics Week sidebar.

Since it’s technically an industry event, you don’t buy tickets like you do at most film festivals. Instead it’s all about accreditation, and once that’s secured, getting into most screenings is just a matter of getting in line early enough (the exception being the nightly formal premieres which are invite-only and require a few more connections.)

When I went in 2008, I felt like one of the few tweeting initial reactions to the films as I saw them, but now there are dozens of people tweeting not only the films but the parties, events and everything else happening on the Croisette. So thankfully it’s easier than ever to enjoy some aspects of the festival vicariously. And as far as actually seeing the films, there’s always the New York Film Festival which could be considered the Cannes “best of” festival (not counting all the fun of the Marché, of course…)

For those interested, here are my favorite resources for staying on top of Cannes from afar:

• The Daily Notebook from The Auteurs… er… I mean MUBI
• LA Times 24 Frames blog (with daily video recaps with “At the Movies” co-host Michael Philips)
• ScreenDaily in Cannes (outside the paywall for the time being)
• France24′s daily English-language Cannes videos
• indieWIRE’s exhaustive coverage (including what’s happening in the Marché should you be curious)
• Canal+ Cannes page (all in French and heavy on the glitz and glamour)
• My Twitter list of film tweeters, which is very Cannes heavy at the moment

Via “The Wrap“, here’s a rather low quality clip from the sole American Cannes competition entry FAIR GAME starring Sean Penn and Naomi Watts. As you’ll gather from the clip, the film tells the story behind the Valerie Plame affair, and while I’m looking forward to seeing the final film, I can’t say this clip is particularly compelling. The main reason I’m posting it is the clip was shot in Cobble Hill Park here in Brooklyn, about 2 blocks from my apartment.

I have no idea why I’ve never heard of this, but if there was ever a movie made for this moment in time, it would be MACHETE. Written by Robert Rodriguez and directed by Rodriguez and Ethan Maniquis (who was the editor of Rodriguez’s GRINDHOUSE segment PLANET TERROR), MACHETE is a story about a renegade illegal immigrant hired to assassinate a corrupt senator, but who soon learns he’s been set-up and seeks revenge on those who double crossed him. The trailer is some grindhouse goodness, so much so that I fear the movie can’t possibly live up to it.

But look at that cast! Michelle Rodriguez, Jessica Alba, Steven Seagal, Don Johnson, Lindsey Lohan, Cheech Marin. and Robert DeNiro as the corrupt senator! I’ve gotta say, DeNiro looks pretty amazing in the trailer, as does Danny Trejo in the lead as Machete.

It’s due to come out on September 3rd, which also happens to be my birthday. I think I know how I’ll be celebrating…

More on MACHETE: IMDb page | Popeater | Ain’t It Cool News (including a 720p version of the above trailer)

Serge Gainsbourg is one of those guys that always seemed like a perfect biopic subject. He was charismatic, smarmy, controversial and incredibly talented. He shacked up with some of the most beautiful French actresses in the 1960s, made dozens of hit records, and tricked a 18-year-old “ye-ye” singer into recording a song he wrote that appeared to be about lollipops but was actually about something very different. You can pick almost any aspect of his career and life and have the makings of an amazing and captivating film.

Unfortunately, GAINSBOURG JE T’AIME… MOI NON PLUS (or as it was known in Europe, GAINSBOURG (VIE HÉROIQUE)), a film written and directed by French comic book artist Joann Sfar, is not the definitive Gainsbourg biopic. It’s not for the lack of an amazing performance by Eric Elmosnino in the lead, a man who not only looks exactly like Gainsbourg but seems to be channeling his presence in every frame. Indeed all of the performances are top-notch, as is the production design which convincingly captures all of the eras of Gainsbourg’s life, from his childhood in pre-WW2 France to his lush lifestyle at the height of his success. A fair part of the writing is good as well, following a largely linear timeline and capturing some great moments that defined Gainsbourg’s early success.

The problematic aspect of GAINSBOURG comes in what’s left out, most notably the controversy that surrounded his life. The aforementioned episode with 18-year old France Gall’s hit single “Le Sucettes” is a prime example of what Gainsbourg was all about. He loved to push boundaries and see what he could get away with, and in this case he took advantage of a young girl who literally had no idea what she was singing about. When Gall later discovered the true meaning behind the song, she was devastated. According to Sylvie Simmons in her book, Serge Gainsbourg: A Fistful of Gitanes: “Gall said that she had sung Gainsbourg’s songs ‘with an innocence of which I’m proud. I was pained to then learn that he had turned the situation to his advantage, mocking me’.” France Gall is a character in Sfar’s film, but she has a grand total of one scene and the reference to the “Les Sucettes” episode is more of a wink to the audience rather than a flushed out dramatization of a pivotal and infamous episode.

More time is given to Gainsbourg’s more notorious controversy; his recording with Jane Birken of “Je T’Aime… Moi Non Plus”. But the time devoted to that episode has more to do with his inspiration for the song (originally Bridget Bardot) with nothing about it being condemned by the vatican, getting banned around the world and turning his biggest “cause celebré”. Leaving the controversy out of a film about Serge Gainsbourg seems misguided at best.

Rather than focus on the richness of the man himself, Sfar creates an embodiment of Gainsbourg’s alter ego, a giant puppet like version of Gainsbourg that shadows him throughout the film and taunts/chastises/encourages him at key moments in his life. It’s a device that I assume Sfar lifted from the comic book version of the story on which his script is based, but on screen it’s a gimmick that fits the style of the film but feels too much like the hand of the filmmaker reaching in and making his presence felt. With an incredible character like Serge Gainsbourg, gimmicks are an unneeded distraction from a story that already had more than enough tantalizing elements.

For a taste of the real Serge in action, here’s a great clip of him in his prime composing and recording one of his best known singles: “Initials B.B”

I’ve been going to the Tribeca Film Festival pretty much since the beginning and in those years the festival has undergone quite a few ups-and-downs. Eric Kohn at indieWIRE does a good job sizing up the problems the festival continues to face, and what I find most remarkable is that the festival never gets the message. They’ve always seemed firmly entrenched in their own world, and in the past I’ve chalked that up to an arrogance the organizers seem to carry about the festival’s importance. I believe Tribeca can fill an important role in the NYC film community, but the people in charge never seem to ask themselves why they’re doing what they’re doing. Why do they feel the need to simultaneously serve populist and art-house audiences? Toronto does it, but Tribeca doesn’t have the caché to score the kind of art-house premieres that Toronto gets (and being on the calendar two weeks before Cannes means they likely never will). Tribeca largely shies away from festival leftovers which keeps it from being a best-of-the-fests type festival. So what course can and should they take?

I think a strong option for Tribeca would be to embrace its populist side. And I don’t mean more half-assed NAPOLEON DYNAMITE ripoffs but rather, to become a springtime launching pad for the Summer blockbuster season. Imagine an east coast version of Comic Con, but rather than focusing on movies that are a year away, showcase the films that will be talked about all summer. Tribeca certainly has the right connections to do something like this, but even that side of the festival currently seems second-tier. Instead of opening with another worn-out SHREK sequel, why didn’t they get IRON MAN 2? SXSW’s opener KICK-ASS was a better option as populist opening film and no doubt inspired a lot more excitement than another SHREK. Embracing that side would mean they could open themselves up to festival greatest hits, and have a section of great independent and art-house-leaning fare that doesn’t have distribution but would be well-served by a showcase in NYC.

Doing something along these lines would be far more interesting than half-baked efforts like Tribeca’s online streaming experiment “Tribeca Film Festival Virtual” (Virtual? How 1999.) I can’t imagine very many people were willing to pay $45 to watch 8 features of unknown quality on their computers in a 7-day window. Even their recently announced “Tribeca Film” distribution initiative feels uninspired since it’s primarily focusing on films coming out of their own festival instead of the cream of the festival crop like IFC Films does with its similar program.

All that being said, I will admit that most of the films I saw at this years festival were fair to good, and one in particular was really good. I chalk this up to strong work by David Kwok and his programming team, plus the fact that after all these years I’ve gotten pretty good at sniffing out the better parts of the Tribeca program. But in spite of my relatively good experience with films this year, this doesn’t change Tribeca’s problem.

Sadly the festival has no motivations to undergo a fresh re-examination of their purpose for being. They’re sitting pretty with their Am Ex endowment for the foreseeable future, and being in NYC means they can still get audiences while remaining largely a “meh” festival.

Image courtesy of the Tribeca Film Festival.

Henry Ward Beecher statue in Columbus Park, Brooklyn.

(via the internets)

Last November, BBC 4 broadcast this fantastic documentary on Krautrock, the 70s music movement based in Germany that, among other things, spawned modern electronic music. The doc starts with the movement’s post-war origins and touches briefly on Karlheinz Stockhausen, its avant-garde forebearer. We then get a comprehensive survey of all the big prog-rock players like Popol Vuh, Can, Neu!, Faust and Cluster, before moving into the electronic music evolution that burst forth through Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream. There’s even a little backstory on some filmmakers who broke during the same period, some guys named Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Wim Wenders and Werner Herzog.

It’s pretty amazing how influential that time was, and how overlooked it is today in the scope of things. This doc is a MUST SEE if you have any interest in rock history, electronica, or technology in music.

Created by artists Sam3 + Limow.

Via unurth