Emerging from the boondocks of Auckland’s K Road, The Cinema Ascension Festival purports to be New Zealand’s first experiment festival, curating three nights of explorative film and transitory cinema from December 6-8. The organisers have this to say: “forget about popcorn and prepare to open up your taste buds to the outer limits of cinematic experience. Expanded celluloid experiments to pixellated digital escapism, ephemeral archival footage to temporal performative projection that will stimulate even the most lethargic of imaginations into exctatic overload!” Films from here (NZ), there (Australia) and everywhere make up the programme, which intriguingly, includes the screening of seven archival American films which invite people to create original soundtracks for, and perform live. Tickets are $7 (single events) or $7 (full festival pass). The Wine Cellar Back Room, St Kevins Arcade, 179 K Road, serves as the venue. Much more at www.kroad.com.

Reviewed by Robert Metcalf (2nd take)

THE BLURRY line between cops and criminals is repeatedly crossed in The Departed, as Martin Scorsese explores the tangled web of Boston’s Irish-American criminal subculture. Jack Nicholson plays Frank Costello, a Boston crime kingpin. At the beginning of the film, Costello observes that, in his world, you can either be a cop or a criminal, but there is little difference when there’s a gun pointed at your head. And of course, throughout the film, both cops and criminals frequently have guns pointed at their heads which, in many cases, go off. It is a film governed by the realpolitik of the streets, or at least the streets as we’ve come to know them through Scorsese.

Reviewed by Catherine Bisley (2nd take)

KEN LOACH’s latest film, The Wind That Shakes the Barley, is a sharp polemic that follows the story of a young Irish doctor, Damien (Cillian Murphy), who joins the IRA to fight along side his brother, Teddy (Padriac Delaney), during the Irish War of Independence. Not for the faint hearted, the film depicts the unrelenting and unprovoked violence of the Black and Tans: a boy is beaten to death when he refuses to state his name in English; a toadlike officer beats an old train conductor, his white fleshy face trembling with hatred. The IRA’s use of violence is equally troubling: “I feel nothing” says Damian after shooting a young informer who he grew up with.

Reviewed by Tim Wong

STUDIOS take note: if you need a movie remade, hope like hell that Martin Scorsese comes knocking at your door. Now that retreads – particularly those of breakout foreign hits – are so absurdly commonplace, what’s revitalizing about The Departed is that it owes virtually no debt to its Hong Kong predecessor Infernal Affairs. It’s a robust, standalone beast that rightfully discards the hairspray, gun-cocked posturing, and Canto-pop gleam of Andrew Lau and Alan Mak’s original triad fiesta, settling for the blue-collar starch of the Irish in working class Boston, MA. And what it lacks in the taut, conceptual realisation of the original’s undercover conceit it makes up for in its sizeable mean streak. We live in an angry place Scorsese maintains, full of seething masculine violence to the screaming furies of the Dropkick Murphys. In militant times goaded by the Bush Doctrine and his invasive Patriot Act (which this film indulges with glee), it’s little surprise that the nostrum spoken here is one of a bullet to the head.

Fred Schepisi/USA/2005; R4, 2-disc
Warner Bros, NZ$24.95 | Reviewed by Simon Sweetman

AMERICA’s obsession with the idea/l of “The Great American Novel” is a sad notion – particularly within the current political climate. Back when Steinbeck’s trim novels and Mailer’s powerful prose actually took people’s minds out and away from the news, there was some reason to care about this concept of a Great American Novel (the literary equivalent of the so-fabled “American Dream”?) But Bush’s War-on-Terror suggests people turning to Playstation beat-em-ups and gangsta escapades for escapism – with just a hint of irony. Sure that’s generations for you too, and Generation Y’s greatest claim to fame thus far is the shortening and corruption of the English language, assisting them in the creation of a new lexicon that nobody really understands. Troubled times? You betcha. And what does common-ground, white bread/white-bred, middle America of mainstream mass love to do in the face of – and in spite of – cultural diversity? Take everyone back to a Steinbeckian situation (that never really happened anyway!) Ah, better times – apparently...

In an ongoing series, Lumière asks a diverse range of film critics about the movie(s) that got them into movies.

CALEB STARRENBURG: Blame it on Jackie Chan. It was 1996, and I had just been given a copy of Rumble in the Bronx on VHS. The plot was terrible; the acting even worse. Then there was the dub track. Yet I loved that film more than life itself, and for one good reason: Mr. Chan.

In an ongoing series, Lumière asks a diverse range of film critics about the movie(s) that got them into movies.

BRANNAVAN GNANALINGAM: As a kid I used to spin around and then imagine as my head would swim that I was in a tornado like Dorothy. When the Scarecrow was given his diploma, I’d shout at him and say “it’s a right-angled triangle not an isosceles triangle”. I debated whether the Munckins represented the Lollipop Guild or the Lollipop Kids. I had a pathological fear of poppies. I wondered if there was a witch of the south (only confirmed once I read the original book by L. Frank Baum). I actually wanted an army of flying monkeys (cue the best ever Simpsons gag). No movie has had so much impact on my love of film – Jurassic Park a possible other contender – as The Wizard of Oz had.

Philip Kaufman/USA/1988; R4, 2-disc SE
Warner Bros, $19.95 | Reviewed by Brannavan Gnanalingam

CZECHOSLOVAKIA 1968. The Prague Spring had brought to the Czechs unparalleled freedom despite the Soviet eye, but it was soon to be crushed by the upcoming Soviet invasion. Czechoslovakia was an exception in the 1960s – it was the only Western country (France perhaps, excepted) where the liberalisation of the arts and society led to an actual revolution. And, like the others, it collapsed into itself again, this time forcibly so.

In an ongoing series, Lumière asks a diverse range of film critics about the movie(s) that got them into movies.

ALEXANDER BISLEY: I got the movie habit before, others works had wowed me, but there was something about seeing Hana-bi (Fireworks) on the big screen. Takeshi ‘Beat’ Kitano’s ne plus ultra is electrifying and transformative. In 1951, Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon was the first Japanese work to win Best Film at the Venice Film Festival; the turning point for Kurosawa in becoming Kurosawa (and also for Japanese cinema in becoming a global force). In 1997, Hana-bi became the second to win. Kitano is the heir to Kurosawa; Hana-bi proved he is the modern visionary of Japanese cinema.

A roundup of the current best and rest in film and DVD. In this installment: Dave Chappelle’s Block Party, The Beat My Heart Skipped, Avenge But One Of My Two Eyes + Towards Mathilde (French Documentary Month), Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story, Brick.

Costa Botes/NZ/2006; R4
NZ$39.95 | Reviewed by Brannavan Gnanalingam

THE INFAMOUS provocateur (along with Peter Jackson) behind the glorious Forgotten Silver, Costa Botes’ latest documentary charts the career of local band The Windy City Strugglers. Formed in the late 1960s during the tail-end of the height of blues in popular music (eg. the British Invasion), The Windy City Strugglers aimed to capture a bit more of an authentic blues sound, harking back to the jug bands of 1920s America.

An eleventh-hour addition to the film festival season, the Korean Film Festival 2006 isn’t exactly the most punctual event on the calendar, but better late than never given the heat Korean Cinema continues to generate. Its headlining reprisal of Bong Joon-ho’s dastardly monster movie The Host is certainly reason enough to postpone any outdoor pursuits if you missed it earlier in the year. On the undercard: The King and the Clown, the personification of a Korean breakout hit (it was the highest grossing domestic film of 2005); Typhoon, a warts ‘n’ all event blockbuster (a la Tae Guk Gi, Shiri etc.); the wildly unrestrained Duelist, an apt example of the aesthetic proficiency and inventiveness Korean filmmakers are reputable for; and our pick, Woman on the Beach, something of a coup considering Hong Sang-so’s films have been curated exclusively by the NZIFF up until this point.

In an ongoing series, Lumière asks a diverse range of film critics about the movie(s) that got them into movies.

PHILIP MATTHEWS: You can learn a lot watching television. I know that I first heard the word “lobotomy” during a broadcast of Planet of the Apes sometime in the late 70s. Those who know the movie recognise the moment: Charlton Heston’s astronaut Taylor addresses his lost pal, Landon, and Landon looks like a dumb beast. I think I asked my folks what lobotomy meant and got the terrible answer: they can open up your head and take out your power of speech.

Reviewed by Jacob Powell

MEET KENNY. He’s a plumber, but with a difference – he specialises in corporate waste management. Or, in layman’s terms, dealing with other people’s shit. The problem for Kenny is that it isn’t just literal shit he has to deal with. There is also the emotional, social, and relational shit that he has to put up with too. Great stinking mounds of it!

Media Release | November 2, 2006
Korean film has recently received much international recognition, and we have seen a visible trend of Korean filmmakers producing films of international interest. New Zealanders will have the chance to experience the exciting Korean film industry and culture in the Korean Film Festival 2006 coming to Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch in December.