Screen Machine

Review: MIFF ‘10: HaHaHa, Border, Beeswax, Cities on Speed

HaHaHa

Dir. Hong Sang-soo

After making two films in 2009 – the hilarious Like You Know it All, which screened at last year’s MIFF, and the sublime Lost in the Mountains, which didn’t – Hong Sangsoo shows no signs of slowing down. Not even the recent death of Eric Rohmer, the filmmaker widely considered to be Hong’s greatest influence, seems to have had much effect on him, for here he is, back with another brilliant, biting portrayal of the ridiculous passions and narcissistic obsessions of Korea’s young, bourgeois artists and intellectuals (though in this film, even the people who call themselves poets, filmmakers or professors may only be describing fantasies that are never likely to become anything more, but are kept afloat by the money and free apartment rentals bestowed upon them by their mostly unloved, perennially disappointed parents).

HaHaHa is recognisably Hong, from the spare, witty use of camera movement (often the most significant event in a scene will be Hong’s use of a single pan or zoom, which suddenly opens up a whole new way of seeing his characters) to the recurring themes surrounding the impossibility of sexual and romantic relationships. Even when he introduces a new element, as he does here with a brief dream sequence, he does it in his typically Hongian way – in the dream, Hong has his protagonist, Moon-kyeong, converse with the 16^th century general Yi Sun-sin, simply by putting an actor in an elaborate Joseon Dynasty-era costume, and then shooting the scene in the exact same way he shoots everything else.

The introduction of the General Yi character does, though, indicate a more significant, developing shift across Hong’s work, it seems to me. In his recent work (beginning with Night and Day, in 2008) there seems to be a slight move away from the sharp, ironic presentation of male narcissism, libido and misogyny that characterised the earlier films, towards a wider critique of a malaise besetting today’s Korea – the lament over the death of tragedy and heroism in contemporary, ‘Americanised’ culture. One character is an arrogant, oversexed ‘existentalist poet’ who viciously deconstructs every gesture of kindness offered by both of his suffering girlfriends; another, Seong-ok (played by the wonderful Sori Moon, star of Lee Chang-dong’s films), bitterly castigates a man who dares to question the nationalist fervour that underlies Korea’s worship of its past military leaders; and a third, Moon-kyeong, attempts to act out General Yi’s instructions and see things ‘as they are’, beyond the grubby familiarity of everyday language. All are searching, pathetically, for a world of sacrifice, honour, belief and tragedy, a world lost to the “selfishness” (in Seong-ok’s words) of today. All will attempt to reconcile these noble instincts with their baser urges, and all will be found out eventually (by Hong’s camera, never by themselves) as the self-obsessed fools they are. Moving slowly towards a wider social critique than his earlier films offered, Hong is taking a risk, but, with the triumph of HaHaHa, he appears to be up to it.

- Conall Cash

Border

Dir. Harutyun Khachtryan

I must have only skim-read the official synopsis of Border and then immediately forgot it, because up until I actually saw the film I was under the impression that Border was going to be a film that vicariously examined a military border conflict through the experiences of an agriculturally enslaved buffalo. To make a film where the camera would identify predominantly with an animal protagonist. What a great concept for a film! As I anticipated seeing the film, I began to speculate as to what sorts of things the film-makers might want to show, and how they might end up showing them. Perhaps, I thought, the Buffalo is being sold, or relocated, but in order for that to happen, it must be herded over the border, or else transported as live-stock. We might even find ourselves stalled at the border. Quarantined! How great it would be, for the camera to be anchored to the presence of the Buffalo the whole time, as it finds itself immersed in a conflict it cannot possibly comprehend or comment upon, but can only observe, mute and without the ability to truly pass judgement. What a great metaphor for the cinema! I eagerly wrote down Border on my “to see” list.

It was not long after the film began that I realised that Border was not going to be the film I hoped it would be. This didn’t turn out to be an entirely bad thing. Border examines the impact of the Armenian–Azerbaijan border conflict upon a community of farmers who live and work near the border within which the Buffalo is merely one (albeit, dominant) subject. The camera does not identify absolutely with the perspective of the Buffalo like I hoped it might. Instead the camera is used as something more omnipotent, observing things more generally, in particular, the rhythms of life of the farmers and their animals.

The conflict surrounding the border is kept almost entirely off-screen, as a foreboding threat. We are never allowed to see the human face of the threat posed by the border conflict. This gives us the sense that the farmers, are, analogous to the Buffalo, innocent creatures who do not, and maybe even cannot, understand or confront the conflict, and whose ability to move on with their lives is inhibited by the encroaching threat posed by the border conflict. The film therefore leaves us feeling worried for the future of the farmers, but gives us little else in the understanding of where this conflict came from, who is fighting it, and maybe even how it has already affected the lives of the farmers. In this respect I found the film quietly disappointing. But in having my expectations thwarted I also came to realise that I had indirectly come up with what might one day be a good set of ideas for a film.

- Alifeleti Brown

Beeswax

Dir. Andrew Bujalski

The latest film from Andrew Bujalski (the maestro of mumbles), Beeswax, definitely is a shift from his previous two films Funny Ha Ha and Mutual Appreciation. The film is less mumbly for one, and the story, or rather the “situation”, feels more solid. However it still bears all the hallmarks of his previous films – naturalistic non-actors and a fly-on-the-wall slice of life feel – and this one is even more of a sleeper.

Set in Austin, Texas (the ’slacker’ heartland) Beeswax focuses on a pair of twin sisters played by real life siblings. Lauren is unemployed and pretty happy about it and the other sister Jeannie (who is also in a wheelchair which is not a plot hook; more of a plot incidental) is trying to deal with running Storyville (the ugliest op shop to ever grace the silver screen) of which she is co-owner/manager. The situation? Lauren is worried about being sued by her business partner and former friend Amanda (who proves as enigmatic for Lauren as she does for the audience). Lauren then brings her former boyfriend Merril back in to her life and the rest of the film under the pretence of free legal advice as he is conveniently studying for the bar exam.

Beeswax is all about the characters and their “interactions” and “evolution” both of which are pretty stunted. As they all meander throughout slacking, studying and avoiding lawsuits the three leads swing between awkwardly irritating and awkwardly endearing, but always awkward. This leads to some great moments of dialogue so natural it’s impossible to tell whether it’s improvised or scripted – particularly from the boyfriend Merril who seems prone to foot in mouth and Jeannie’s passive-aggressive interactions with her staff. One thing to Bujalski’s credit is that he never tries to make his characters likable or glamorous but presents them without judgement on their own terms.

Since there isn’t a conventional plot and/or resolution in Beeswax, some of the dramatic devices felt confusing and distracting – ‘should Lauren should go teach in Kenya?’ and ‘why exactly is Jeannie being sued?’- it didn’t really seem to matter and these questions and events seemed to be merely the melodramatic periphery to day-to-day life.

Bujalski’s intention to focus on the moments in-between “important” events is interesting, but he doesn’t quite pull it off and in the end of this film I felt that there’s only so much talking around the issues that one can take in 100 minutes.

- Samantha Chater

Cities on Speed: Program 1

‘Shanghai Space‘ – Dir. Nanna Frank Møller

‘Mumbai Disconnected‘ – Dir. Camilla Nielsson

Cities on Speed is an interesting documentary film essay on the world’s major cities, but it ultimately disappoints with an obvious bias towards one city over the other. Part one, Shanghai Space, is a dedicated love letter to a city, and its characters express thankfulness for Shanghai’s successful development of infrastructure. It was fascinating to observe the organisation of the government’s plans, and their calm at the alarming immigration figure of 500,000 people each year. I was honestly shocked by the functionality of the infrastructure operation because I had thought that China does not handle their population as they should. But is it precisely because of their autocratic system of government that things are going so well? With such a large population, and so many varying opinions, would nothing ever work if it had to operate within a democracy?

As we clearly see in part two, Mumbai Disconnected, the answer to this question is yes: large-population democracies mean that nary a thing gets done and rarely is anybody happy with the result. According to the film, the country’s government is disorganised, smaller community groups do not have enough say and its citizens are struggling. But in spite of this chaos, India should not have been portrayed as it is. All of the Indians in the film are constructed as caricatures. And although it is possible that the infrastructure system in India is in fact useless, and because no one really knows what they are meant to be doing, it was hard for anything to be taken seriously. A major issue was the soundtrack, and the repeated intrusion of pantomime-esque music as though it were accompanying some sort of trivial farce.

In Mumbai Disconnected, a public meeting organised by the government ends in disarray, and all sides of the debate are presented as silly, as incapable of supporting their point. An officer spills coffee on important documents that are spread over an already disorderly desk. In Shanghai Space, an official in charge of expanding space presents organised documents to a committee, and as spectators, we see well-designed plans for underground accommodation, and underground public spaces. There is attention paid to the need for trees and vegetation, and extensive plans to develop artificial sunlight. The contrast is crystal clear.

- Eloise Ross

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