My wish with my Edinburgh International Book Festival coverage was to provide an accurate picture of what it’s like to go to a festival and still have to get up the next day, and in some ways my (lack of) coverage has been quite accurate, because no one has seen me. I run from work to events, sloping in and then dashing off again to help out with work (day work) related projects or to catch one of the few shows I foolishly booked for at the Fringe. I wish that I could wander serene and bookish around Charlotte Square Gardens, notebook in hand,  looking all calm and interesting, but I am really never going to be like that. I will always that slightly mad person with the red hair bouncing from one event to the other, looking vaguely stressed out . If you spot me, come say hi. I am not as stressed as I look, promise.

Anyway, here’s the first part of my blast through Charlotte Square this past week, to give you an idea of what it has been like.

OPENING WEEKEND

On Saturday morning the Edinburgh International Book Festival opened its doors for the 21^st time. By now a truly grown up festival, it has been given new youth by its latest director, Nick Barley, who took up the reigns in October of last year, and has since been making some radical changes to regular book festival fare.

The first day, however, was classic Book Festival. The Soweto Gospel Choir were singing just inside the entrance to the gardens and the weather was glorious. There were old faces and lots of new ones, and that lovely book festival buzz was definitely doing the rounds.

First up was Garth Nix, Australian author of Lirael, Sabriel and Abhorsen. He put on a great show, and told a lot of stories about his life (most of which turned out to be lies), to teach the kids in the audience that anyone can tell a good story – or a good lie – with the right tools.

It was interesting to go from an event where stories were described as lies to the Philip Pullman event. Pullman was attending the Book Festival to discuss his latest book, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ. The book is divisively published as part of Canongate’s Myth series, which sees well known authors reimagining famous myths.

The Good Man Jesus certainly has Pullman written all over it, and smacks of His Dark Materials, both in tone and ideological bias.

The event featured Philip Pullman in conversation with former Bishop of Oxford Richard Harries, and rock star theologian Richard Holloway. Richard Holloway spoke about faith and the problems of the church at the closing event of last year’s festival, and did so with such intelligence and compassion that it seemed only natural that he would chair this event.

For a discussion that could have so easily disintegrated into argument, Holloway handled the event admirably, instead posing questions that allowed Harries and Pullman to find common ground and expand upon their views for the audience’s benefit.

All three started off in agreement that the figure of Jesus likely existed, but whether this figure was divinely sent is another matter entirely. CS Lewis famously said that Jesus could only be one of two things, God or mad, but Pullman sees this is a foolish dichotomy, and one that can only divide people. Holloway asked: Is it possible to have a non-divine Jesus that is still morally relevant, or are the human and the divine interminably bound together? This is the question that Pullman has tried to answer in The Good Man, providing a moral and human alternative to the traditional gospels of the New Testament.

What I found interesting was Pullman’s openness to discussion and debate, despite the strong moral thwack of his novels. Last year at the festival, we saw Richard Dawkins speak out about the foolishness of religion. Pullman was the opposite. Though he remains opposed to the structures of institutional religion and is sceptical of miracles, Pullman believes that, at the end of the day ‘religion is about the experience’ and so anything that encourages this cannot be a bad thing. To Harries, he said:  ‘If my book makes people so cross that they go and read the New Testament, no one could be happier than me.’

All three men come from very different backgrounds, but agreed that the experience of religion is, at the core of it, one’s own, and that very little can or should be done by the church to mediate it. Though part of me wanted to see Harries and Pullman go at it Vatican-style, the end result was much more informative.

High School was good. A decent comedy starring the motley crew of Adrien Brody, Colin Hanks and Sean Marquette (who reminds me a little too much of Jonah Hill), it’s about two kids who get the whole school stoned in order to pass a random drug test imposed by fuhrer-tastic Principal Gordon. It has the right amount of good, evil, funny and downright dumb to keep an audience happy, but sadly, after Mr. Nice, it kind of felt like hearing a teenager say that Stephanie Meyer invented the vampire (when clearly it was Joss Whedon). Howard Marks’ autobiography, Mr Nice, did much to popularise the plight of the stoner in nineties popular culture, and no doubt helped to inspire the rise of the stoner-flick, from Half-Baked to Pineapple Express, so that it took this long to be captured on film is highly unusual.

It is the fruit of many years spent struggling with the BBC over how best to tell a story about a man who’s most famous achievement was smuggling vast amounts of marijuana into the country over the course of about fifteen years. The director, Bernard Rose, doesn’t speak about the BBC’s involvement with any regret, though, and said in a Q&A after the film that everyone at the BBC wanted it to be made, but the representation of the subject matter simply relied too heavily on the politics of the party in power at the time.

The film that comes before us now is BBC free (as they eventually sold the book rights on), and Rose has done a beautiful job with it. This is a story about drugs that isn’t about drugs. Rose instead chooses to focus his attention on Marks’ life, his relationships, his friendships and his family. He is an honest and decent man, who just happens to smuggle drugs, in large quantities, and deal with the IRA. He has a family and a wife, and does his best to provide for them. There are points throughout the movie where Marks is successful and wealthy, but gets too drawn in by the thrill of the job, and these are followed with the appropriate fall from grace. Though he is sly, and at times irresponsible, he pays his dues and we are left liking the character. To be honest, he seems pretty, well, nice.

Rhys Ifans plays Marks effortlessly, and it is only when they were introduced side-by-side that I realised how alike they look. Ifans and Marks are longtime friends (ever since Ifans asked Howard Marks to sign his pack of skins at a Super Furry Animals gig), and apparently they had decided long ago that Ifans would be the one to take up the role should Mr Nice ever be immortalised on screen. David Thewlis also features, as IRA man Jim McCann. His performance is stellar, and he has never been farther than Remus Lupin, let me tell you. The film is worth watching for his performace alone.

Rose also plays with the visuals in order to communicate the years that pass on screen. He said very pointedly that ‘titles on screen are a lazy way to direct’, and so in Mr. Nice, the texture of the film changes as the film progresses. As Rose made clear, ‘the only record that we have of this time is the visual artefacts we are left with’ and so our concept of the past is shaped by these. The film begins in the late fifties, in grainy black and white, then, when Marks sparks his first joint at Oxford University, the film turns to the beautifully rich colours that 60s and 70s cinema are famed for. The format also changes accordingly throughout the film (though I can only properly classify the last few), and by the end of the film, it could be shot on contemporary DV, with stark naturalistic lighting and that pin sharp/still home-made DV quality. What is odd about this film is that it is the fabrication of historical artefact. This is a movie adaptation of an autobiography, which simulates media no longer use in order to emulate an era we have record of only through film and archival footage, which is a wholly simulated medium in itself.

Okay, I have talked myself into a hole and it is late, so I am going to open this one up to the floor.

What do you feel are the implications of imitating a era-specific film format to create a work of autobiography, that is also fiction?

Does this somehow change the underlying message of a film, or can it be employed simply for aesthetic purposes?

How do you feel about the biopic versus documentary debate? Should I just be quiet and enjoy the movie?

You decide!

]]> https://thisiscentralstation.com/edinburgh-festivals/nice-and-high/feed/ 0 https://thisiscentralstation.com/edinburgh-festivals/weekend-update-eiff/ https://thisiscentralstation.com/edinburgh-festivals/weekend-update-eiff/#comments Mon, 21 Jun 2010 09:30:19 +0000 guest http://thisiscentralstation.com/?p=3180 This weekend was mental. So enjoyable, and so tiring.  Sadly, with the impending work day on Sunday and tonight also, I haven’t had time to really write anything substantial.

Some movies were good, some were downright awful, but all of it was so much fun that I didn’t really mind. There’s nothing like being caught up in the whirl of a festival. My routine for the festival has become worryingly efficient. Every morning, I a down a can of Red Bull (a tried and tested method from my days at the Galway Film Fleadh), and trudge up the hill towards the Filmhouse. Then I grab press tickets for any evening screenings (before the rush later on) and depending on the day of the week, either run to work to or to catch the first screening of the day.

The cinemas are hot, too hot really, but Scotland has never really been sure what to do with itself for the week of summer it gets every year, so it is understandable that the air conditioning isn’t up too scratch. Most of the press seem old beyond their years at this point, and the conversation has centred mostly around weather, what films to catch before their run ends and how much they would like to have another shower. Or a fan.

I watched three movies on Saturday, then dashed off to a friend’s housewarming. Sunday I packed in three more and then liveblogged from the Central Station event ‘Sound: Image: Art’ at Inspace with co-blogger king Ben. Today, I had work, so I caught most of Patrick Stewart and then got all rowdy from watching The Runaways.

Reviews are forthcoming, once I get enough time to sit in one place and write all the thoughts in my head down.

However, so I don’t keep you good folks waiting, here’s a quickfire blow by blow of the movies:

Toy Story 3 ‘Nuff said.

The Boy Who Turned Yellow is a Michael Powell film, and part of the retrospective strand. It’s completely mad and was punctuated by very enthusiastic audience members.

Boy One of my picks of the festival. This films is adorable and really damn funny. Taika Waititi has a real gift for writing about children, and this hits all the right notes. Also, Taika Waititi is a handsome man. I recommend checking out the promo for the film on Youtube here. Some hilarious extra videos available.

Skeletons An artfully made little British production. It’s about the supernatural, features an EPIC soundtrack and has Jason Isaacs being appropriately evil. It keeps you guessing and is nice and eerie throughout. I’d recommend it to anyone who loves themselves a bit of mystery wrapped in science fiction/fantasy (Buffy, not Zelda) coat.

Donkeys Recommended to me by the lovely boys over at Reel Scotland, this is the latest production from Sigma Films and the Denmark-Scotland team up that brought us Red Road. It’s clever, funny and sad as hell. I was disappointed to see it didn’t make Best of the Fest, even though Jackboots on Whitehall did. Which brings me to…

Jackboots on Whitehall I am not sure if I am the only one who thought this was really really bad. Stop motion is hard medium to work with. With it, you have make sure the script and the animation balance themselves out. Either you have a standout script, and average animation, or beautiful graphics, and less of a need for a story. Jackbootshas neither. I have as much of a twisted sense of humour as any other person, but the jokes in this seemed forced, the story dragged on for ever and as the stop-motion was laughably bad (though this may have been what they were going for). I hate to be so cruel, but after seeing a run of such strong films, Jackboots let me down.

Patrick Stewart is very charming, and elicited many swoons from the female audience at Cineworld today.

The Runaways just made me want to wear lots of eyeliner and drink whisky. Oh, and maybe make Dakota Fanning wear some pants. Is that a bad thing? It was enjoyable though, and ticked all the boxes of a good solid music biopic. I’d buy the soundtrack.

Okay, I am going to sleep now.  See you all tomorrow!

 I wandered over at my leisure to the Cineworld at Fountainbridge, in order to watch Ollie Kepler’s Expanding Purple World (after a brief stop in Tea Tree Tea, my pick of the festival for delicious and unusual drinks, hot or cold). Ollie Kepler  is Viv Fongenie’s second feature film, and stars Edward Hogg of Bunny and the Bull fame and Jodie Whitaker, who wowed us all a couple of years ago in Venus, but has since kept a relatively low profile.

The programme didn’t give much a way except that it was independently-produced, and featured a geek, Ollie, in love with a beautiful girl, Noreen. I must say that, with the recent raft of awkward indie pictures with not-quite love stories, I was expecting something in the same vein. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

 Ollie Kepler’s Expanding Purple World is in fact quite a dark story of mental illness and loss, charting one man’s breakdown following the death of his fiancée.  This breakdown and our experience of it is enhanced by clever editing, claustrophobic camerawork and Hogg’s performance. The unease that runs throughout the film is very well managed and several scenes had me actively squirming in my seat, however, it seems like the film doesn’t take it far enough at points.

The story starts strongly and builds well, so that by the time Noreen is killed suddenly by a blood clot, we really feel for the characters, and yet, it is this steady progression of narrative that is the film’s weakest point. Hogg’s character has a background in astrophysics, is writing a book on string theory and is undergoing some serious mental trauma but his story is told in a simple chronological narrative.  I wouldn’t claim that every film tackling mental illness should automatically slot into the expanding category of non-linear narrative films, however, I feel that Fongenie could have done something more interesting with the structure, that more accurately expressed the Ollie’s collapsing (or rather, expanding) world.

Recent films like Harmony Korine’s Juien Donkey-boy in 1999, Christopher Nolan’s Memento and even Fight Club show us how the medium of film can be used to explore trauma, mental breakdown and loss, and sadly, Ollie Kepler’s Expanding Purple World does not quite live up to its predecessors.

With Pixar’s recent run of hits (everything since Cars has been increasingly good), I was probably one of the few people going into this film with any apprehensions at all. It’s been years since I saw Toy Story 1 or 2, and when I did see them I was pretty young, so I was mostly concerned with my memories building up the previous films, and Randy Newman.

Luckily, Randy Newman is kept on a tight rein, and apart from that, Toy Story 3 rocked. As much of an emotional rollercoaster as Up, it is perfectly paced, both funny and terrifying, and had me me hooked from start to finish. Lee Unkrich knows when to lay it on and also when to hold back, so the funny moments stay funny and the tender moments stay tender.

The movie starts with Andy all grown up and heading off to college, so the toys (Buzz, Woody, Jesse and co.) are packed off to Sunnyside Day Care Centre, which holds promises of constant playtime without the awfulness of having your owner grow up and leave you. Things seem peachy at first, but the toys soon learn that all is not as it seems, and so plan to escape.

New additions include Ken (Michael Keaton), Trixie the dinosaur (Kristen Schaal) and fantastic turn from Timothy Dalton as Mr. Pricklepants.

I’m not going to say any more, except that this one is worth getting worked up for, and you will totally cry.

Sasha here reporting for Edinburgh International Film Festival duty! I am the second of the bloggers covering the festival for This Is Central Station, and frankly I am delighted (see picture)!

(In the spirit of all things social media related, my picture is taken with my very awful webcam.)

I am a person who writes, with an internet addiction. My background is freelance, in copywriting and editing (though now I have settled down into a permanent job), and I blog regularly at Taxidermy Mouse. Writing and film for me go hand in hand, and though I love writing about film academically, I have always used the internet as an outlet for more whimsical reviews. I’ll do my best to rein in the whimsy.

When I first heard that Ben and I would be reporting, I was wondering how we’d divvy up the events. As it turns out, Ben will be covering the day-to-day stuff, while I am going to capture the film festival buzz from slightly more work-friendly perspective.

Though I would gladly spend all day at the movies, I’ve been a 9 to 5 girl for some time now, and so I am going to report what it is like to be a real person (working, sleeping, lounging) attending the festival, and how best to get in on that fantastic festival atmosphere when you don’t have much time to do it in.

Today, I collected my press pass during my lunch hour, at the Conference Centre on Bread Street. It was like walking into another world. Everything was light, and glass, and all the staff were cheery. I had been worried that they would sense my blogger creds as soon as I walked in and sneer, but everyone was very friendly and helpful, and didn’t mind answering my myriad questions about the press process. Though I have worked at film festivals in the past, I was keen to see one in action on a larger scale, and let me tell you,the EIFF crew run a pretty tight ship.

So far I have only managed a quick flick through the programme, but I am already very excited about a couple of movies. Jackboots on Whitehall sounds particularly brilliant, as does the Werner Herzog-David Lynch team-up My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done?.

Lastly, I (quite ashamedly) am excited to see The Runaways. The promise of Kristen Stewart sans blinking and vampires is simply too much to resist for a trash loving girl like me.

I will be blogging about movies, events and general goings on, and tweeting as I do so. Keep an eye on @TaxidermyMouse on Twitter, and also for the EIFF logo on any This s Central Station blog posts (it’s our handy flag for you guys to keep up with our blog action).

If you think of any fun social media related ways to report, or generally have any recommendations for the festival, do let me know!

Talk to you soon!