Viewing posts written by: Lauren Bliss

Lauren Bliss
Lauren is a PhD student in Film & Television studies at Monash University, specialising in the representation of pregnancy in cinema.

Reviews of new films by Athina Rachel Tsangari and Jan Svankmajer, and two films about children in peril.

Reviews of films by James Benning, Ivan Sen and the Dardennes.

Reviews of three more MIFF films from Whitney Monaghan and Lauren Bliss

Reviews of Li Hongqi’s absurdist comedy, Vibeke Løkkeberg’s doco on the Israel-Palestine conflict and Takashi Miike’s crazed film of a dystopic Tokyo.

If nothing else, this year’s list confirms that we at Screen Machine are big Jesse Eisenberg fans (but then who isn’t?). It perhaps shows other continuities from our 2009 list, indicating some of the approaches and prejudices we have as film critics and spectators. We hope that the pieces we’ve written on each of the twenty films that appear here are of greater use and interest to readers than the mock-suspense of learning what finishes in which position. Returning to these films now allows us to say things about them that we couldn’t when they first appeared, and we think that these reflective pieces on the films of 2010 will offer plenty to discuss as we begin the new year.

“Grain of the Voice” is a new retrospective focusing on the impact of sound in the work of well-known Australian experimental filmmakers Arthur and Corinne Cantrill. The Cantrills have been, and continue to be, prolific contributors to avant-garde filmmaking and film culture in Australia; having created over 140 films, a successful journal (Cantrills Film Notes, 1971-2000), and appearing as regular speakers at universities, galleries and art events. The Cantrills began making experimental films in the early 1960s, a time when avant-garde movements began to flourish, both globally and within major Australian capitals, particularly Sydney and Melbourne. One of the great things about the Cantrills is the diversity in their approach to filmmaking. As Jake Wilson, curator of the season, said to me: “When you talk about experimental cinema, you can be talking about lots of things – a very austere, modernist thing, or you can be talking about something that is trying to get the spectator on an immediate, sensory level. With the Cantrills, you have both of those things.”

A film festival is a curious time for the cinephile. The event (particularly in this cinematically dry city) is the most anticipated occasion of the calendar year. When it comes, life is put on hold for two full weeks – the highest priority is to absorb the audiovisual delights from the international film community. I find it a strange experience to anticipate pleasure; the hope of feeling repeatedly entranced by the moving image usually puts me in a weird mental…

Every cinephile is excited by the prospect of a film festival, whether it is Cannes, Venice, Rotterdam or the Kino OTOK festival in Slovenia: the coming together of movie lovers and a diverse group of films is a highlight of the calendar year. The first taste we get of the festival, in any case, is the festival program, the official guide to the event. Reading such a guide is like being a child again, poring over that tantalising showbag lift-out…

There is often a distinct vibe or unsaid theme at academic conferences. In the case of this symposium, celebrating three decades of Indigenous community film and video, the undeniable theme was death.

The newest installment in Gillian Armstrong’s documentary series centered on the lives of three working class Adelaide women reflects Armstrong’s pervading interest in femininity. But by conforming to the preconceived notion of the documentary, Armstrong has produced a film which is largely non-cinematic, conformist and dull.

You must be wondering (dear reader) what I, a PhD student in film studies, am doing coveting the world of a teen pop star. Am I not meant to be analysing (and enjoying) only the serious, critically worthy cinematic efforts that capture the attention of likeminded intellectuals? *Yawn* I like Miley Cyrus, I escape with her into the great, glossy teen queen world she inhabits. That she exposes her sexual maturation and undeveloped teenage psyche only furthers my interest.