Another day of, frankly, mild disappointment at the Film Festival for me as it draws to a close. Although at this stage its too early to know for sure, it seems certain that attendance was down this year and concessions are being made that things will need changed for next year (moving it back to August, with the other Festivals, might be a start). The job of artistic director is up for grabs; the new director James Mullighan, who was landed with all the responsibility this year after Tilda Swinton and Mark Cousins left, can reapply for the job, but Creative Scotland, one of the major funders of the Festival, are reportedly looking to replace him in response to this years critical backlash. This seems unfair, as the several problems this year are mostly not his fault and he was clearly under a lot of pressure. I know, I know, it was always their intention to re-advertise the job. It was always the intention for Tilda Swinton and Mark Cousins to stop contributing. It would be nice if someone could just admit they cocked up. Today started with a British documentary about youngsters trying to break into the music business. Theres a group of 21-year-olds called The Cheek, a young singer-songwriter called Beth, and a club singer called Fatima. The documentary is called
Let It Be Golden, which is the name of one of Beths songs. The music is variable the lyrics of the title song could use a re-write for a start but Fatima, in particular, is clearly talented, and I liked her story and personality best. She works, by day, in a shoe shop, struggles to pay the rent and at one point has to rescue her belongings when her flat is flooded. She has a great voice, however, and natural talent on stage. The other acts, to my untrained eyes and ears, look and sound like many other acts, and my scepticism about their chance of success is tempered only by my awareness of how bad a lot of popular music is. Part of me found the documentary somewhat depressing, as the kids take themselves so seriously. Theres little sense of wanting to get into music for the lifestyle or the fame, which the filmmakers dont address. Its of limited interest, but it is a well-made piece from director Colin OToole and particularly photographer Jonas Mortensen, who are clearly competent filmmakers. Next up was The Bang Bang Club, a true story about a group of photographers who took some of the most famous, and most dangerous to obtain, photographs from South Africa in the early 90s during Apartheid. Its an interesting, if somewhat disjointed, dramatisation from documentarian Steven Silver starring Ryan Phillippe as Greg Marinovich, one of two photographers in the club to receive a Pulitzer Prize. In some ways its quite a bold movie, as its trying to tackle the complexities of these photos, what they mean and how they were interpreted, and what some people see as the inherent duplicity of gaining attention from photos of the oppressed and desperate. It touches on these issues and some of their internal struggles, but neither explores them fully nor is dramatically involving enough, despite some moving and upsetting sequences. Perhaps the best sequence surrounds a photo of a young, starving girl and a vulture apparently stalking her in the background. Was the vulture really stalking her, or did it just happen that way? And, many ask, what happened to the girl? Did the photographer help her? If not, should he have, or should he just do his job? The exploration of these issues is not totally satisfying but at least the movie does explore them. I was sceptical about the casting of Ryan Phillippe when I went in but was surprised to find he gave a very strong central performance, and was one of the best things about the movie. Having said that, following as he does Leonardo DiCaprio in Blood Diamond and Matt Damon in Invictus, it would be nice to see a South African actor starring in the next Hollywood movie to deal with recent history in South Africa. Finally today I had
The Last Circus, lex de la Iglesiass bizarre, over-the-top gothic love story about a sad circus clown who obsesses over a girl dating the popular circus clown, and goes gradually, and explosively, insane. For the first half-hour I sat quite happily thinking well, this is mad, but not in a bad way. By the end, however, it had just worn me down. After a point the movie started feeling like, despite the melodrama, it really thought it had something to say, and it transgresses boundaries just for the sake of it: Im not going to get all moralistic, but I could have really done without either the casual sexism (in the portrayal of the central female character) or the scenes showing a clown waving a gun in a childs face. Its just a cheap shot, and it didnt make the movie feel transgressive and edgy; it made it feel desperate. The movie is so crazy and over-the-top that I almost admired it, and I found most of the gorier moments fairly funny, but underneath all the sound and fury there was something quite pretentious about the tragic clown story. Today I finish the Festival with The Lion King (woo!) in 3D (boo!) and the Kings of Leon documentary Talihina Sky. Tomorrow Ill have a final round-up of the festival, including my favourite, my least favourites, and the well-regarded stuff I, inevitably, managed to miss.