A place for everything…

Thanks to Nayab for finding this - one of my favourite shorts from the Tribeca Film Fest

Another night, another film program :) this time it was Shorts: Cold Feet, another solid collection of thought-provoking and thought-nonvoking (is that a word?) films. Just me this time, sitting on my lonesome, one leg on the other knee, stroking chin and reclining… Films can be pretty addictive I guess, since essentially you’ve parked your arse and are simply allowed to shut up and concentrate entirely on what’s in front of you. I don’t seem to get that chance to focus during any other part of my normal day; it’s not like you can sit down for an hour to listen to some great music on a gorgeous pair of headphones without finding a hundred other little things to do.

Anyhow, in a really strong lineup, three films really stood out for me:

• When I Become Silent is a subtle, melancholy story told between two lovers who seem to recognise, slowly, that their relationship, like all relationships is unlikely to last - not because of the outside factors of difference in job status (one is professional, the other a writer) nor because they’re same sex in not-so-tolerant Japan, but because it simply may not work. Very nicely told, gorgeous camera work and apparently is one of three stories to form a feature length from this director.
• Irish Twins is a very well acted, very snappily written little story about two brothers pretty much avenging their father’s missed opportunities and weaknesses. Felt like a proper film, and this guy who looked so familiar during the screening turns out, after a ~2.65 second search on IMDB to have been Shawn Hunter in Boy Meets World, which I remember as a staple 6pm Channel 4 show waaaaaay back in the 90’s, weird that these TV people actually exist!
• Sikumi is an utterly bleak, barren, whited-out, sparse film set in the most northern part of Alaska and it had such a soporific effect on me I fell in love. I think I’m a kid from the North at heart; sun-drenched beaches are pretty dull at the end of it - much more interesting to have the virtual whiteout and perpetual light / dark of way high in the Arctic. A very minimal film in dialog, screen dressing etc, no extraneous fluff and a really sobering story of murder and danger. Would you have the balls to effectively arrest the guy who you just witnessed killing your friend, when it’s just you both out there on the ice? If you get it wrong no-one will ever know how or where you died. Harsh in every sense.

More again tonight!

First a last-minute spare ticket courtesy of a very kind future flatmate and her equally kind record-label working friend at Interscope: Free tickets up on the balcony of the Hammerstein Ballroom to see Feist, albeit very small and off in the distance…I stayed for a very entertaining hour where she covered plenty I know (for shame, my techno roots are appalled) and some I didn’t. Great use of multi-layered sampling on vox, achieving a dense, rich sound onstage with just herself and her guitar looped many times through a delay unit. There were also utterly beautiful visuals in the background: we’ve all played with overhead projectors before, in this instance a couple of artists worked in the background of the stage, sculpting shapes, drawing patterns in sand and with lightsticks, silhouettes of leaves etc, all dreamily projected up onto a giant screen at the back of the stage. Lush.

Then a quick cab-dash across town at 10.30 to catch the first of a series of programs of short films I’m trying to see at Tribeca Film Festival. Last night was the Nuthouse program, with a tagline ” We’re ‘committed’ to surprising you, scaring you, or just plain creeping you out in this late night program.”.

Two films of the 8 really stood out for me:

• Last Time In Clerkenwell is the crazy ass-shaking lovechild of the old Ki-Ora ads and Mr Scruff and made me seriously rofl :)

• Kirksdale had the production values of a serious feature film and was probably the most bloody, violent film I’ve seen in a while, certainly possessing the most excruciatingly wince-worthily painful walk-on-broken ankles scene I’ve ever seen.

More films tonight too :)

“We just need to sort the deposit, whether you want the bed and furniture and stuff, some other stuff I’m sure, but not that sure - watch out for that car - just how am I managing to stay upright… and look, here’s a coffee shop, quick!”

“Starbucks???”

“I used to have principles too…”

***

“I can’t believe I didn’t go to Download with you…”

“The three of them are up there and they play each other’s guitars!”

***

“With very few examples, no work could completely satisfy me; maybe 80% on the absolute best of days, but there’s always a significant part of my life that needs other stimulus, other sources of joy and they need time, and a life to live. Maybe that’s why I’m not killing myself in the city.”

“You should write that down or something, that’s exactly how I feel!”

“Just seems like common sense really. How do we split this fiver?”

***

“So the hero’s dead, the antihero is a total fucking psycho, and the sheriff’s dreaming of his own death.”

“And there’s no music; that shotgun sound is incredible.”

“What the hell did we just watch?”

Early morning yoga classes, a full day off work, buying new books in Foyles and stopping for a read and a coffee in Ray’s Jazz Cafe. A film, a funfair and some random bunnies in Soho…

… welcome our euphonius robotic overlords.

Everything’s progress if it gets us that little bit closer to Blade Runner: The Final Cut.