I had every intention of seeing three movies today, which is generally the average, but between Bleak Night and Almanya the heavens above Edinburgh opened and I was subjected to so-hard-its-slightly-painful rain; I had to forego the latter movie, so inappropriate was my T-shirt and leather jacket combo. However I was so struck, this afternoon, with Festival Fatigue that though I was quite looking forward to Almanya, a comedy about Turkish immigrants in Germany I was so exhausted after Bleak Night that part of me was relieved. The day started fairly well with Troubadours, sub-titled The Rise of the Singer-Songwriter. It is a documentary concerning the Troubadour club in Los Angeles, particularly in the late 60s and early 70s. Carole King and James Taylor provide a sort of running thread throughout the movie, as we hear their stories and see them performing, then and now. The interviewees comprise an impressive list of musical and comic talents, many of whom made their name at the Troubadour: these include Jackson Browne, Roger McGuinn, Kris Kristofferson, Steve Martin, Cheech and Chong and even Elton John. Coming after yesterdays abysmal Bob Marley The Making of the Legend I knew the only direction was up, and I was right. The doc is an entertaining one with warmth, insight and some great music. It is not a great music documentary, but fans of the artists particularly Carole King will find much to enjoy. Its really about the transition between the explosion of rock music, and all of its associations, in the 1960s and the music industry that developed in the 70s, by which time it was taking 2 billion dollars a year, dwarfing even Hollywood. It alludes to the tension between traditional rock anarchic, anti-war and traditional country conservative, patriotic. By singing the songs he did, Kristofferson observes that many from the world of country music simply labelled him as a Commie. Im not even a good Democrat! he says. After the Summer of Love, post-Altamont, The Beatles had broken up and the Stones were virtually in exile. The singer-songwriters that the Troubadour showcased helped fill the gap. The music industry was shifting completely from New York to LA, marijuana was everywhere and AIDS hadnt been discovered. It was, I am sure, an interesting time and the movie recalls it fondly, but as Steve Martin says, how long can you maintain a culture founded on pot and sex? Some music critics were not interested; they saw it as the rise of empty, navel-gazing music. The movie probably needed to be more strongly structured to lift it into the category of really special music docs, like Scorseses No Direction Home. But the music itself and the footage of King and Taylor, who still clearly feel real love and affection for one another, make it worth checking out. Falling asleep at movies during the Festival is far from unknown, and occasionally watching someone trying to battle the forces of sleep and gravity can be more entertaining than watching the film. However it often has nothing to do with the movie itself; last year I fell asleep during The Secret In Their Eyes despite the fact I was enjoying it, and when I re-watched it in full found it to be one of the best movies of last year. I felt a bit sleepy when the Korean film Bleak Night started, but I was adamant that I was not going to fall asleep. I didnt, but I think the movie did. I kept wanting to walk up to the screen and give it a shake. Its pace is leisurely, to put it mildly. It concerns the death of a schoolboy, and his fathers attempts at understanding it by talking to his friends. Most of the film is shown in flashback, as the kid who died is revealed to be a fairly weak-minded bully. The performances from the kids are strong. Some of their scenes together were not unlike those in the Icelandic Jitters, which I saw yesterday. The photography is quite striking. Ive seen many superb South Korean films at the Festival, from A Bittersweet Life to Oldboy, but the plotting narrative of the film made it a real chore, and its structure and dialogue didnt seem nearly as interesting to me as they did to the film. At this point, as I said, Edinburgh was struck by the wrath of God, and that was that. Tomorrow will include Perfect Sense, from Scotlands own David Mackenzie and Chris Weitzs A Better Life. And possibly an anorak. Adam Whyte, our man in the Highlands is attending the Edinburgh Film Festival. Check out all his reviews HERE.