JACOB POWELL learned not to judge the Telecom New Zealand International Film Festivals by its cover, encountering a satisfying and surprising programme that belied its middling appearance.


THERE WERE a lot of recognisable names in 2007’s line-up, perhaps a few too many, and some just seemed downright embarrassing to have as part of a film festival programme. I mean, what were the likes of Angelina Jolie, Christian Bale, and Tim Robbins going to add to proceedings?! As it turns out they all acquitted themselves in quite respectable fashion and didn’t diminish the quality of my viewing at all. My fear of being underwhelmed at every turn redundant, I was consistently impressed by the quality of films that, in all honesty, I was expecting to be a little average.

This trend began at the very beginning of my festival experience: the Auckland Programme Launch (T minus 14 days) where maritime documentary Deep Water lodged itself inside my brain and wouldn’t shift. The programme blurb didn’t really grab me at all and I was a little disappointed in the choice. Even whilst watching the film it was such a model of British restraint – unassuming and underplayed – that it didn’t overwhelm so much as quietly compel. A study of human nature, Deep Water plumbs both the strength and frailty of humanity through the gloomy tale of a man driven to madness by his hope, ambition, and sense of shame. More than just another ‘thrilling’ aquatic misadventure, Donald Crowhurst’s story is one to which we can relate – if on a smaller scale. We all make mistakes, but how do we deal with the consequences? How often does shame and embarrassment overrule our common sense and self-preservation instinct? What is ‘price’ of our lives? If you were to judge a film purely by what you take away from it then this would definitely be a contender for top film of the festival.

My festival ended in like fashion. For whatever reason, I wasn’t exactly amping over Fatih Akin’s The Edge of Heaven either. I hadn’t seen his previous effort, Head On, I was tired from two long weeks of festival viewing (this was my third and last film for the day) and again, the programme write-up didn’t grab me. But what a way to finish a grand festival! An exercise in style-through-substance, The Edge of Heaven showcases clever, assured filmmaking and storytelling both. Fatih Akin, takes his various plot strands and orchestrates a beautifully unfolding narrative ballet which unquestionably satisfies whilst subverting the traditional cinematic ‘need’ for tidy closure. He even gives plenty of space for imaginative cinematographic ‘trickery’ without ever letting it overtake the story.

The filling in my festival sandwich was likewise mostly good and tasty; a whole swag of highlights with only two minor disappointments. My top ten this year range from experimental to indie road movie classic to ‘new musical’ to slow-burn documentary to a study of masculine friendship to paranoia fuelled drama and back again.


Laurin Federlein’s obscure little feature (it doesn’t even have an IMDb entry) Build a Ship, Sail to Sadness was everything I hoped it could be. A sharp look at human desire to be in community and to be needed, this experimental work is a creative watershed turning humour, guilt, lo-fi production, and quasi-doco styling into a tragic and moving piece of cinema. Two-Lane Blacktop wowed the Skycity theatre audience with its economically captured American landscapes, and existential dilemmas where the cars reflect their owners’ very person. Certainly the road movie to end all others.

Tim Robbins converted me as oil rig worker Josef in Isabel Coixet’s The Secret Life of Words, who finds solace in similarly ‘scarred’ factoryworker-cum-nurse, Hanna (the luminous Sarah Polley). Andrea Arnold’s Red Road kicks off an interesting sounding trilogy in fine fashion, giving us a security camera’s eye view of the grimy realities of Glaswegian life. Bob Rafelson and Jack Nicholson’s early collaboration on the film Head (for copycat pop-group The Monkees) turns into one big hallucinatory Pythonesque comedy sketch replete with a sped-up chase scene (including a bevy of scantily clad girls) worthy of a Benny Hill Show ending sequence. Throughout the whole psychedelic proceedings the band members riff wryly on all the negative publicity and critical response they had engendered. That ship might have been going down, but damn if it didn’t go out in style!

At the other end of the spectrum, musicians Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová put in some raw intense performances (if a little shaky at times) to help John Carney breathe new life into the musical genre with his latest cinematic offering Once. Show tunes and cabaret styling are eschewed in favour of honesty and emotional grit which more than makes up for the sometimes underwhelming camerawork. Jack Nicholson returns again in 70s underground masterpiece The Last Detail, but this time in all his maniacal greatness reminding me of why he has the reputation which seems to fit a little less easily these days. Conversations with my Gardener gives prolific Gallic talent, Daniel Auteuil, the opportunity to tread some territory other than farce and thriller in a satisfying character drama exploring male relationships. A recently divorced artist retires to a country house and unintentionally reconnects with a boyhood acquaintance who he hires as a gardener. Sensitively written and warmly played this was a welcome addition to my festival experience.

Also included is an honourable mentions section as I think these films are also worth getting to if they find further release locally in theatres or on DVD.




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