In an ongoing series, The Lumière Reader scouts for new and elusive films that have either fallen off the radar, or are yet to see the light of day in New Zealand.

MIRED BY a handful of boutique screenings (in Wellington, at least) that reduced its outreach to a select minority of festival goers last year, Steven Soderbergh’s DIY revelation Bubble deserved an audience, even if its contentious release history suggested otherwise. Unleashed simultaneously in theatres, on DVD and Cable TV in America last January, the film under-performed financially despite the promise of its experimental distribution. More alarmingly, it felt the wrath of theatre-owners already struggling with declining attendances; some dismayed enough by the film’s upheaval of traditional release windows to boycott its exhibition altogether. While readily accessible stateside, its availability here is undetermined, with a limited theatrical run unlikely, and its migration to Region 4 DVD format an uncertainty. A shame, given Bubble’s modest, immersive rhythms of small town disquiet and true crime intrigue place it among the best films of 2006.

When, towards the end of Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men, the sight of a crying baby suddenly tempts a serpent-line of raging soldiers into dim reverence, you recall Julian’s (Julianne Moore) line to Theo (Clive Owen) earlier in the film, spoken shortly after the coffee shop he’s just left keels under bomb blast: “You hear that ringing in your ears? That ‘eeeee’? That’s your ear cells dying. You’ll never be able to hear that frequency again. Enjoy it while you can.” For over 18 years – in a world shot through with stark remiss –, the baby’s wail has also been a ‘lost’ frequency, thanks to a global infertility epidemic. Yet, for all the thrill of no more morning-after hang-ups, the existential overhang proves to be too much: With the pyrex of civilisation finally breaking, London (the futureworld capital) is impelled into a grim boil of neofascist command.