Author: klakloose

After a quite disappointing day 4, I decided to wait for another (promising) screening before I spit my venom towards the outside world. A wise decision it was. My venom is way less poisonous now that I went through my Hamaguchi therapy.

Let’s briefly run through day 4. “The Killer”, just a big disappointment. I was expecting quite a lot from the cooperation between David Fincher (“Seven”, “The Zodiac”) and Michael Fassbender (aka one of the loves of my life since “Hunger” and “Shame”). What I got was a big bulk of nothingness. A styling exercise that seems to have appealed to some of the critics but that, to me, brought absolutely nothing new to the beautiful world of cinema. Had I written this yesterday, I would have just offered you a list of better killers to watch in the movie history instead (if I were you, I would start with Javier Bardem in “No Country for Old Men”). 

As for “La Bête”, even less to say. Just a confirmation that French cinema is not doing so well and obviously not choosing the right projects to finance. And another confirmation that (#verypersonalopinion) Léa Seydoux is still as unbearable as before… and that I will never understand why James Bond died for such an irrelevant actress.

Now that I see that my venom is still pretty agressive, let’s move on fast to day 5 – a magic moment. Again, loads of expectations from this one because of Hamaguchi’s “Drive My Car” (if you have not seen it…. Just do watch it). 

And this time, expectations fully met (pfew).

A pure moment of Japanese delicacy and  poetry. The plot is quite simple: a glamping project comes to disrupt the inhabitants of a small Japanese community of 6000 in the middle of the untouched nature. Where a Western movie would most probably turn into mass hysteria, demonstrations and shouts, Hamaguchi’s movie goes towards a discrete but very deep discussion about the community’s relationship to nature, the history of its inhabitants and their reason for being where they are. The delicate confrontation between modern business goals (absolutely inadapted to the local realities) and people who simply have found their place is a pure delight to watch. I have to say that seeing people listening to each other whilst having quite irreconciliable points of views and objectives has sadly become very rare.

Top it up with a quite mysterious ending for which we have already found two different interpretations, and what you’ll eventually get is a massive (and absolutely deserved) standing ovation in the Sala Grande. I won’t tell you about the end but would be very happy to hear about your understanding of it as it is still a matter for discussion on our little Lido paradise…

This one was a big disappointment and thus will be a short one. Not that I thought that I would be as thrilled as on day 2 (hard to achieve). Based on “A Star is Born”, I expected to see a decent production, nothing very original but something that would probably make me slightly sentimental and bring me to some reasonable tears. Even these moderate (at least according to me) expectations were not met.

I am actually quite surprised to read the (overly, again only according to me) positive reviews this morning.

A decent production it quite was – my praise goes to Bradley Cooper and his very convincing incarnation of Bernstein as an orchestra conductor. These scenes are actually quite fascinating – one is dragged within the orchestra and sees Bernstein’s passionate conducting as if he were right in front of us. That is the big (and only… aaagain according to me) plus of this movie.

Original it was definitely not (except for the above mentioned scenes).

As for the sentimental me and the expected little tears, they were awaited until the end of the movie but never showed up. The movie pretends to be a jump into the intimate life of Bernstein and his wife (and three kids) – taking into account that his attraction towards men, made it slightly complicated to the least. I however felt that it was very difficult to relate to the characters as most of the scenes were made of noisy insignificant party conversations. A hint about what is going on in the background is given here and there through a short exchange between husband and wife or just a sentence. But it remained way too much at the surface for me to feel anything. 

The highlight of the day thus remains our 7 hours boat trip through the venetian laguna – that had a bumpy end to it that I shall share with some of you in private. The islands and the nature around were definitely way much more worth watching than Cooper’s “Maestro”.

I don’t think you could experience a more contrasted day at the Mostra – not in terms of quality but in terms of content and style. We indeed went from the most classical to the most experimental.

There are also some similarities: both movies are slightly too long (I take back my yesterday’s compliments) and both are contenders for the Golden Lion – with a higher probability going towards Lanthimos, because of its originality and creativity.

“Bastarden” is a pure historical drama to be definitely seen on the big screen because of its picturesque quality. It’s one of those that (just like, for example, Jane Campion’s “Power of the Dog), if you watch it on a small screen, you loose half of the experience. 

Cinema is definitely not dead, people.

It’s a story of rivalry between two men from very different social backgrounds (and mentality/psychology) in the roughest of the Danish land. It’s austere, ruthless and beautiful. Mads Mikkelsen is a perfect match with this scenery. And I do have to admit that enjoying his physical presence in the Sala Grande during the screening added to my experience. I’m just a girl, after all 🙂

Now. “Poor Things”. Impossible to summarize the plot. The festival website presents it as follows: “the incredible story of the fantastic transformation of Bella Baxter, a young woman brought back to life by Doctor Goodwin Baxter, a brilliant but unorthodox scientist”. 

Right. But we have to factor in that it’s a Lanthimos movie (remember “The Lobster”, “The favourite”?). So when you enter the movie theatre, you kind of know it’s going to be, let’s say, an experiment.

Well I knew it. Though I had warned my movie buddie, I don’t think she was ready for it.

To give you a little bit of context, my relationship with Lanthimos has been less than ideal until now. I tend to be part of the half of the room that really doesn’t get it and does not laugh. Hence, I was ready to suffer for two and a half hours and get out of there still wondering what people see in it that I do not see. It started as expected. Halfway through the movie (factoring in as well my movie buddy’s face), I was ready to let it go and get out. We (smartly) decided to give it a bit more time.

That’s when the miracle happened. Lanthimos suddenly won me totally over. I don’t know how but I caught myself laughing so hard at the absurdity of the scenes and dialogues combined with such clairvoyance about human nature. It’s so weirdly brilliant, it’s genius (though my movie buddy is still wondering what just happened to her yesterday evening). Emma Stone (who honestly had to work hard to win me over as well) holds the role of her life. If it does not get the best movie, she should definitely get the best actress. Well the cast (Mark Ruffalo, Willem Daffoe), in general, is great. 

So I would tell you to run to the movie theatres. You might end up getting out of there wondering what on earth was that (just like my movie buddy), but I don’t think you will ever regret going through the experience.

With a bit of delay as I had really nothing to say about the opening movies, here comes my first batch of impressions from Venice 2023.

Let’s first say that for once, the opening ceremony was a quite straight to the point but dignified one. It all came down to Charlotte Rampling handing the lifetime achievement Golden Lion over to Liliana Cavani. Both these ladies are born with elegance and things to say. And both said them right. Such as the fact that, in 80 editions and over 90 years of existence, it is the first time that such an award goes to a female movie director at the Venice Mostra – could do better guys.

As for the movies, I am glad to say that my small nostalgia from the early days does not seem to have affected my movie-acceptance levels. I am pretty satisfied with what I have seen until now.

What I very much liked about Michael Mann’s “Ferrari” is that he did not make it an action movie about racing cars. Though the racing scenes in these beautiful old cars are nicely filmed and quite catchy, the focus is more on the man and the family tragedy in the background – a dead son, another one hidden from the “official” family. These are brought to the screen with a certain delicacy and discretion – not that many words, but the ones spoken are usually meaningful. They sound right, not cliché. 

I had a feeling that Adam Driver delivered nicely on this one and made a pretty credible Enzo Ferrari – from the quick reactions I could get from my movie buddies yesterday, I don’t think all agree with this statement. But as usual, all of this is very personal.

Conclusion: although I would not say it is the movie of the year, it is a pretty pleasant and enjoyable watch.

Before I start with movie 2, let me express my immense gratitude to these directors who finally seem to have understood that you don’t need to put everything in a movie and make it a 2:30-3:00 hours long crusade by default. Both yesterday’s screenings lasted less than 2 hours and I really did not feel that an additional hour was stolen from me or could have added anything to my experience. On the contrary. Grazie mille, people.

As for Luc Besson’s “Dogman”, from what I could read this morning, it seems that it is not being very well received by professionals. I would tend to agree that it is a bizarre creation and not necessarily one that I would pay for to watch back home in the movie theatre. Many things don’t make sense in it and one struggles slightly to understand the point of it. I mean. Dogs entering rich peoples’ houses and stealing their pretty diamonds for their own master? Like, really? Really, really, Luc? 

We however stayed (almost) until the end. And my only explanation for this is acting performance – Caleb Landry Jones. He incarnates a fragile but powerful, sensitive but frightening Dogman, that kind of made it worth watching although everything around him was bizarre, bizarre and… bizarre.

So here I am in Venice 4 days before the festival starts – the blog is ready. I need a couple of days of rest, then I’ll be as ready as can be as well.

Though I am really looking forward to this Mostra, this one will be quite a bizarre one for me. This will indeed be the first one (since basically ever) that I attend without any of my initial festival-buddies.

It generates unexpected reactions in me. I cried big tears crossing the laguna with the train this morning. And at noon I caught myself cooking lunch for 3-4 without even thinking about it (no need to cook anymore for the next couple of days).

Though the flat feels like home as always, I keep on thinking that my old ones will arrive soon and I need to make it cosy for them. It’s basically a weird mix of great excitement/expectations and immense grief and nostalgia – let’s see what it does with my movie-acceptance levels. Big unknown.

Don’t take me wrong. I’ll be joined by newer (as well as totally new) festival-buddies. A lonely stay it shall definitely not be. And it’s always quite thrilling to make others (“innocents” as I call them) discover my little Venetian paradise.

But well, before the movie turmoil starts, it just felt right to set things straight: without papa, Michelle and Fe this will never be the same Mostra as it used to be for me. My age of innocence is definitely over.

I’m obviously open to change (I would not have survived beyond 40 otherwise) but I still allow myself to dream a bit and let those 3 dears of mine know that I’ll be waiting for them in 2024!

I am done with my post-Venice movie break (which I had to interrupt once in order not to miss “Triangle of Sadness” – I got post-Venice lazy on the writing for that one, but it does not mean one should not run to the movie theatre to watch it… just run as fast as you can. Now.)

The November weather has finally reached us it is cold, it is wet, it is dark… it is that movie time of the year!

My movie buddy would tend to argue with me that, though it is movie time, maybe it does not mean that I need to take her to watch yet another heart-breaking movie. To her defence, I have to admit that I did get her through many movie hardships in the past year (encompassing senile dementia, drug addiction, tragic deaths, suicides and others). I have been told at the end of the “Close” screening that I owe her 5 comedies and that I am not entitled to pick the next movie that we will go and watch together – if she agrees to go and see any movie with me until the next Mostra.

Even the 2 glasses of bubbles I bought for us to make us nicely happy and relaxed during the screening did not help my case. I got crucified when the lights went on (as I was actively trying to make my totally wet face at least half presentable) with a “I had forgotten what it means to go to the cinema with you”. Ouch.

Meanwhile, on this side of the movie-lovers spectre, I had the time of my life (though I do have to admit that maybe it was not the smartest pick for a Friday). One needs to be mentally prepared for the fact that, as he tends to do, Lukas Dhont will tear your little heart out of your body and cut it into thousand tiny pieces. My tears started running down when the movie was about mid-way. For almost an hour, when the tear on my right cheek was down on my chin, the tear on my left cheek started its trip to the bottom of my face. A constant flow of water experience.

Indeed, I believe that Lukas Dhont is one of the most sensitive living directors I am aware of. What he throws at you is just pure tenderness. My born in the 80s self struggles to understand how a bloke born in 1991 (a kid basically, seen from my perspective) has by now managed to make two films (“Girl” and “Close”) that are as pure, subtle and precise in terms of human feelings as can be. Every time I reflect on it, I think to myself “this guy must be such an amazing person”. I would really pay a lot to see how he works with his actors in order to make them express so much in a look or a silence.

Extraordinary actors by the way. Obviously Emilie Dequenne has nothing to prove by now (but gosh, that guy manages to take even her to another level) but these kids. These kids are just true, real, not acting (and god knows that I am provided with an integrated very powerful anti-acting-kids radar inside of me). They are as close, spontaneous but as well as cruel as kids can be.

Add to this that it is beautifully filmed in terms of lights, aesthetics, colours and you reach the obvious conclusion that it definitely deserved the 2022 Cannes Grand Prix it received.

Though my movie buddy would recommend that you swallow one or two antidepressant pills prior to attending the screening (I would simply opt for the 3 packages of tissues).

So this is it. Another Mostra year is behind us. We enjoyed it without any major hiccup, which is a blessing and a little miracle by itself – 2 weeks ago I did not think this would be possible at all. It seems that Venice loves us as much as we love her. Some energy and tranquility have been regained. We are ready for another battle to make sure that our full Mostra team makes it back again next year.

Our last screenings followed a similar pattern as the previous ones – meaning that they ended up with me being overall satisfied (in some cases, with some things I would not think I would be satisfied with).

This is exactly what happened in the case of the “Blonde” screening.

Indeed, all the conditions were reunited for me not to like it. A close to 3 hours screening, which is by definition almost always too long – with a few exceptions, of course. Yet another biopic, which is a risky excersise – and usually not my favourite one. Marylin AGAIN – I mean, how many times do we need to rewrite the myth? Hasn’t everything already been said on the topic?

And yet, I still found ways to find it more pleasant to watch than expected. Despite the fact that it IS one hour too long, it is way too repetitive and it is pushing the story slightly too far on the provocation side. 

We even went through a tragi-comic experience during the screening. It indeed seems that a person in the audience had a quite serious health problem during the projection. An ambulance had to be called in. The Palabiennale is so big that, as we were in the front and the “situation” happened in the back, we could not really grab fully the seriousness of it. What we DID realize is that the unrest in the back coincided with a quite pretty crude sexual scene between Marylin and JFK. I let you imagine all the fictional scenarios shared among us about who fell unwell and why (starting from the aging Italian nonna to the prude elderly american conservative). Not appropriate, I know. But still our favourite way to deal with such circumstances. 

So, back to the movie itself. Despite all its flaws, it remains an interesting item to watch (maybe not necessarily on the big screen, but as it is a Netflix production, you know where to find it). Mostly because it’s been quite a long time that I did not see an actor/actress incarnate a myth as Marylin in such a convincing way. By convincing, I mean not only copy-pasting gestures and attitudes but making us forget that it is not Marylin whom we are seeing on the screen. A pretty impressive Ana de Armas – in this case, I have to agree with all the rumours preceding the official screening.

And this leads me to the second screening I attended, which comes as well with a best actress potential but for very different  reasons as in the “Blonde” case. 

“Saint Omer” is as austere a production as “Blonde” is flamboyant and over the top. It is as well targeting a quite restricted cinephile public, as much as “Blonde” is aiming at the widest audience possible.

The story of an infanticide and the trial that follows the deed. And there again, the murderous mother (Guslagie Malanga) deserves at least a loud Klara special mention, if not a price (hard for a small French production to compete with a massive Netflix one – but who knows, let’s wait for the jury’s decision tonight). Whilst Malanga holds everything in (and de Armas gets it all out), the subtlety with which she makes us fluctuate between compassion and pure dread is quite genius, I have to say. 

So yes, I did very much enjoy that one as well though the slowness of the movie and the seriousness of the subject (and of how it is treated – guaranteed 100% no lightness) makes it recommendable to a very specific audience only.

With this I say ciao ciao Venezia and see you next year!

Hmmmm. The other option I see is that the past months were so hard on me that I have just gone soft. Indeed, I am slightly worried about my judgement as this year, I seem to like everything I watch. And, believe me, this is quite an unusual situation. I normally tend to be the first one barking. Finding and putting words on the little flaws that prevented the picture from being perfect is, in normal circumstances, one of my favourite hobbies.

This year, I am unable to tell you if it is really that the level is so good that there is nothing much to complain about; or if I am just so happy that I eventually made it here, that there is not much space for criticism in my satisfied little venetian brain.

To be honest, I really don’t know what is the right answer. But I am definitely having a blast! Which, in any case, is nice. I do however apologise in advance if, according to your well-balanced selves, some of the movies I recommend are not as amazing as I seem to think they are. Let’s blame it on life circumstances. 

So, as you have understood by now, I REALLY liked Florian Zeller’s “The Son” as well. Maybe not as much as his previous “The Father” (quite reassuring, there still seems to be some sense in me). But then, not everyone is called Anthony Hopkins. And let’s face it, “The Father’s” scenario was just as brilliant as can get. “The Son” is way more classical in its construction. It is definitely way less surprising as well. You kind of know how it’s going to end from the beginning. So yes yes, I do see why the enthusiasm might not be as great as expected.

But, to its defence, I was pretty much impressed by Hugh Jackman’s performance in a place where one does not necessarily expect him. I mean, between Wolverine or X-Men and a drama about teenage depression, there is quite a gap that not everyone would try to fill in. And I think that we all agree that he does an excellent job at being a father who is above all focused on his professional career and success and who, at the same time, does his best to juggle between his new family (and newborn baby) and his teenage son who seems to be feeling as blue as can get.

Spice it up with a very short (but as always, medically precise) acting performance by Anthony Hopkins – the most dreadful father one can imagine – and what you get is yet another evening ending with a very satisfied Klara. 

OKOKOKOKOK, I admit it. My first day’s complaints seem to have been heard by the gods of cinema. I believe that by day 7, it is safe enough to say that, despite of the limited amount of movies we are seeing this year, our little Mostra team is pretty satisfied with the 2022 festival’s global level. When I think of some past years during which, by day 8, we were still desperate to see at least one decent movie, I have to say it is definitely not a given. Let me thus already express some gratitude for this year’s selection.

Yesterday’s screening was no exception to this trend. Again, a high expectations movie. As for those who do not connect Martin McDonagh’s name with any film, let me remind you that he is the one behind, among others, “In Bruges” and “Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri” (which should have won the Golden Lion in 2017, according to me, in place of Guillermo Del Toro’s “The Shape of Water”) #verypersonalbutdamnconvincedopinion

After his American getaway with Frances McDormand, McDonagh dives deep back into his Irish roots with this one. It will not be a surprise to those who know me well and since long, that my little soft spot for Ireland (and the one I have now developed as well for McDonagh himself) made me very excited about seeing this movie. Since the morning I was in a “this one cannot disappoint me or I shoot” mood. And (good for him) it seems that (additionally to the gods of cinema), Martin heard me loud and clear. If he could as well listen to me right now and aim at living a long and happy life keeping on making such precious movies, at least once in a while, it would be much appreciated.

Set during the Irish civil war but on a remote island (thus withessing the war just through the sounds coming from the “mainland”), the movie takes us to a small rough and poor local community, where life revolves around the local pub, local gossips, local traditional music, local violence, talking and drinking. It is as well a lot about friendship and animals – animals that, besides being key to providing for basic daily income are as well companions against the loneliness that, by definition, comes with living in such a place. “The Banshees…” could be presented best as a tale of a friendship that goes utterly wrong. As wrong and as out of hand as one can go.

But, as always with Martin McDonagh, things can become terribly violent and cruel but tenderness and laughter are never far away. Again as always with McDonagh, the dialogues are pretty brilliant and as sharp as could be. 

Though I fear that a big part of the movie theatre did not get half of those because of the characters’ pretty intense irish accent and of the English subtitles being unfortunately placed quite deep down below the screen (it’s the same issue since years in the Palabiennale and, if I could give my little advice to the Mostra team, I would tell them to look into it – as “international” film festival means not only Italian public).

Finally and again as always with McDonagh, the cast is splendid and absolutely perfectly fitted to the decor – as rough as the Irish countryside. A special mention to Brendan Gleeson in this context, who manages to be as hard as an island rock and as fragile as an island seagull, both at the same time.

Not the first time this year we get out of the screening saying “this one could be worth the golden lion”.

We took it easy on movies in the past couple of days. A bit of rest is needed given the year we just went through. I swear that next year I am back on abonamento and daily screenings. In 2022, this was just not an option.

Whilst taking it movie-easy, (besides being blessed with good friends visiting) we had the opportunity to see a few mind-blowing exhibitions. Anish Kapoor at the Accademia made all the disappointments caused by the Biennale Giardini and Arsenale disappear in less than 10 seconds. I still don’t understand how such “simple” shapes can trigger so much complexity and emotional reaction. A (very) black square is able to make you question how your brain functions and the reality of what you see. Mesmerizing.

We however did not let the Mostra completely down and spent an evening on the Lido, watching two movies that could not be more different from one another. The first one was a “no expectations” one. One of the 5 (if I am not mistaken) Italian movies that are (almost compulsorily, as we are in Italy) part of the official selection. I say “no expectations” because, in 20 years, we have very often seen the worst of Italian cinema in Venice. Sure, sure, not always. But veeeeerrryyyy often, I must say.

The above context made me actually quite appreciate “L’immensita”. Just because it was really not as bad as what we usually see. It did however trigger some debate amongst our little movie team – some finding it more “useless” than others. I, personally, was quite entertained by what I saw on the screen. In a light “relaxed audience” manner – no expectations, no disappointment. 

What we all did agree on is that Peneloppe Cruz could work a little more on proving that she is a good actress. But, is she really? That is the question for which I still give her the benefit of the doubt. But acting (according to my little, not professional, humble self) is not only about being stunningly pretty and always playing the same character (a too beautiful, loving but hysterical mother). Acting is about becoming someone else and making that person exist for a couple of hours. For the moment, Peneloppe is definitely (#superverypersonalopinion) not yet worthy of Klara’s Daniel Day Lewis Special Award. But then, only a very few are.

Film number 2, Darren Aronofsky’s “The Whale” was, on the contrary, a “super-high-expectations-do-no-disappoint-me-this-time” one. I have to say I still did not forgive him his “Mother!” screened some years ago on the Lido. What on earth happened to the guy that time?! Hence, high expectations but with some reserves. 

Verdict: Darren Aronofsky is, bless the gods of cinema, back! As he did with Mickey Rourke in “The Wrestler”, he dug out a “vanishing” actor, Brendan Fraser, and gave him the role of his life (potential best actor lion alert here). 

A lonely but extremely kind man killing himself with food. I believe it is the first movie that I have personally seen about morbid obesity. And for me, it was definitely the right one to start with. Because it is perfectly balanced between the disgust one feels when looking at what Charlie does to his body and the solar person he is inside. Because it is (extremely) tragic and hard but funny and tender at the same time. Because of the excellent cast (Sadie Sink, Hong Chau, Ty Simpkins and Samantha Morton – all of them doing an outstanding job around Fraser’s key character). And because it made me cry. Just exactly when, this year, I was not sure that I still had tears in me.

A must see!