What the hell is going on with me? Blogging from film festivals away from home is a fairly simple task, but for some reason I'm falling egregiously behind on covering the home team, e.g., the New York Film Festival, which has in fact been a source of not inconsiderable delight for me. What's my excuse? Or excuses? Okay: Houseguests. My office: there's stuff to do there. The Kingdom. (Ugh.) Darjeeling Limited press day. (Yay!)
Quick notes, then, so you know I'm still here, or there, or somewhere: Glad to catch up with Carlos Reygada's Stellet Licht (from which the above image derives), which I missed at Cannes. Some debate here as to whether the proper translation of the title is Silent Light (which is what it's being called) or Still Light, which is more accurate. Say some. The imagery of the picture is such that it reminded me of something Charlie Haden once said about his approach to playing bass, that is, he wants "every note to be beautiful." Also, if they gave out Oscars for Best Deliberate Use of Lens Flares, this pic would win in a heartbeat. I was pleasantly surprised that the film's Dreyer lift actually worked and didn't grate. (In Reygadas' picture it's more a matter of human generosity than religious faith, as it happens. Sorry to be cryptic here, but rather that than drop a one-word spoiler.)
Ferrarra's Go Go Tales has a ramshackle, shaggy-dog charm that's hard to resist, but by the same token I'm not quite sure why so many critics are turning cartwheels over it. I'm reserving my cartwheels for the beautifully restored print (check out the threads on Ray Collins' suit in the opening scene) of John Stahl's 1945 Leave Her to Heaven. Every frame of this film (okay, maybe not the ones wherein Chill Wills sings) is tinged with an expressionist delirium, and Gene Tierney's ravishing turn as the ultimate Woman Who Loves Too Much ain't the half of it. The completely unreal climactic courtroom scene, with Vincent Price portraying a Torquemada of forbidden love, is one of the dizziest sequences ever.
More soon.
I would never say best, but the oh-so-hilarious GO GO TALES has been the most enjoyable experience I've had at NYFF so far... and that includes the Reygadas, the Hou Hsiao-hsien, BLADE RUNNER Redux, and the "Romanian abortion flick" (which I caught up with 1 day, 8 hours, some minutes after seeing LAKE OF FIRE; I'm calling a personal moratorium on explicit fetal death onscreen, at least until 2008).
Maybe I'm just excited to see Richard Pena (how do you make a tilde?) and crew adding some sleaze to the hoity-toitiness, but c'mon, if ever this fest needed a catchphrase to wistfully lament the old New York (especially since I only know it through words and screens), Sylvia Miles warms the heart: "Bed Bath and Beyond, motherfucker!"
Posted by: Aaron Hillis | September 26, 2007 at 04:47 PM
for me, 4 Months 3 Weeks and 2 Days & Silent Light have been the very best of the festivals... believe the cannes hype
the most dissapointing: "Redacted"
Posted by: Carlos Reyes | September 28, 2007 at 12:42 AM
carlos reyes you are a major league stupid
Posted by: jnachin | November 22, 2007 at 11:17 PM