This summer when the unspoken race to Oscar started heating-up with edgy material and intelligent performances popping-up in some unexpected places–United 93, Thank You for Smoking, Sherrybaby–one thing became very clear: a strong fall season would be likely to round out the year.
That’s where the New York Film Festival inserted itself as the perfect litmus test, serving up a more than respectable sneak peek at a robust roster of films for which we may very well be casting ballots in the office pool, come March on Oscar night.
Perhaps understanding a trend ahead of its time, the ever-discerning New York Film Festival has always been lauded for its keen ability to attract–and promote–hybrid films, both foreign and U.S., that often ride the fringes of the mainstream yet advance to the forefront of critics’ lists during awards season.
These movies, often considered “independent” in nature, but generally studio-backed to some degree, have their roots in hardcore art-house appeal but curiously extend beyond those highfalutin borders. So while the bold NYFF showcases a line-up of high-brow gems, their rather diverse palate is generally accessible to the public.
Whether drama or biopic, fable or non-fiction, this year’s notably regal line-up, included sneak peeks at kingdoms and royalty from both sides of the camera: from the Queen of England to the king of modern Spanish cinema; from the plush court of Versailles to the fantastical kingdom of one girl’s imagination, the 44th Annual Fest definitely raised some curious eyebrows.
We not only pondered Kirsten Dunst‘s revisionist interpretation of: “Let them Eat Cake?” but were also shown the reality behind the brutal machinations of what it takes to get food to our plates. With the courting of awards’ season in mind, here’s just a taste of some of the offerings that debuted with a royal bang:
The Queen
If there was ever a doubt that Helen Mirren was in a lesser league than her country’s more celebrated dames: Judi Dench and Maggie Smith, look no further as the proof is in the royal pudding. In an acting turn that has landed her squarely on the wagging-tongues of those forecasting awards season’s buzz, Mirren is an undeniable candidate, already offering up, possibly, the best female performance seen this year in film. The Queen imagines and charts the bridled explosion that takes place behind closed the doors in the royal family, following the tragic death of the insanely sought-after, paparazzi-weary, “Princess of the People”–the late Lady Diana Spencer.
Oscar-nominee James Cromwell soars as an all-too-convincing Prince Phillip. Whether or not he nailed the accent (tho’ we think he did), we’ll leave that up to the Brits; however the tight-lipped, internal turmoil that seethes from this scorning in-law to the impulsive, worshipped Princess Diana is so palpable that his intimate portrayal makes this royal story feel all the more universal; yes, in part, Diana’s complicated tragic story was simply a common one found in the clichéd inimical relations between spouses and their in-laws.
With Michael Sheen portraying a robust Tony Blair, and a bevy of amazingly utilized stock footage, the saga surrounding the days following Princess Diana’s death is well-earned by its crafty, sensitive–yet reserved build. It is a regally told royal tale with Mirren seizing its core. Having already won an Emmy for Best Actress in 2006 while portraying “Queen Mum” in Elizabeth I, Mirren was surely circled by a few doubters–skeptics who wondered if she could bring the same, committed, layered and clear portrayal to the living daughter as she did for the mother; well, all that conjecture is mute now.
Little Children
Kate Winslet, our beloved queen of history’s top-grossing film (Titanic), turns in a rather electrifying performance as a conflicted, suburban misfit mom who yearns to be looked after–rather than having to look after her child. With zesty co-star Patrick Wilson, their respective characters, Sarah and Brad, find in each other a romantic Renaissance in which they return to the kinetic days of breezy childhood existence–tinged only, every once and a while, by the unseemly adults surrounding their world. Todd Field’s fable-like, dark satire, adapted from Tom Perotta’s prickly novel bravely plunges into a pool of questions about adulthood and comes-up for air, breathless and panting, with vibrant energy.
Volver
Yes, while his crown may appear invisible Pedro Almodovar is certainly considered the “king of Spanish cinema” these days. How can one ever deny him this title–particularly in his latest outing starring two of his famed muses–talented, power-houses: Penelope Cruz and Carmen Maura?
Volver is a tale about three generations of complicated women bound by harsh circumstance, and the visitations of a maternal restless ghost, who returns to comfort her family in their time of need. Elegant in its understated style–for a Pedro film, that is–and rich in layers of discussion of life, death, womanhood and domesticity, the film has delivered another entry to the winner’s circle this year. If one ever doubted why Penelope leapt to such celebrity, particularly in light of some of her recent Hollywood choices, just buy a ticket and see what a return to her roots will prove to you. The centerpiece of the NYFF is Spain’s official entry for the 2006 Academy Awards–and we fully see why.
Pan’s Labyrinth
Spain showed-up again at the NYFF, with a drama once again blurring the lines between fantasy and reality in a captivating tale by masterful, Mexican storyteller, Guillermo Del Toro. His Spain, however, illuminates a very particular and gripping period in its history: the 1940s postwar Fascist-heavy peninsula, and the brutal repression held firmly within it. At a press conference, Del Toro discussed how very few cinematic stories have been told from this dark time period that centers on the Fascist officers who continued to carry out their reign of terror on vulnerable citizens, even after the war declared their leadership invalid.
The richly told story centers on a lonely, dreamy child, Ophelia, who uncovers a fantastical world to which she escapes, as she comes to terms with her “real” world, comprised of a dreary, creepy country-side manor, her beloved ailing, pregnant mother and her sadistic step-father, an elitist Fascist officer. Child actress Ivana Baquero dances between these two worlds, seamlessly, and confidently inspires us to follow her to both places with dread and glee. Pan’s Labyrinth is Mexico’s official entry for the 2006 Academy Awards. It should give the others in the foreign category a run for their money.
Inland Empire
While on the topics of reigning monarchs and absolute power, let’s call David Lynch into the circle–the helmer whose latest film has his fans creeping out of the crevices to see their favorite mystery man unspool a puzzle they may–or may not–crack by the end credits’ roll. Tagged in a recent Variety review as the “king of the unexpected,” the enigmatic Lynch certainly has a beloved spot in popular culture, and with this bravado he brings this cryptic tale set in Inland Empire–a once rural, now suburban, region east of Orange County and south of L.A. The twisting tale concerns itself with a frayed actress–intensly portrayed by Laura Dern–who is married to a possessive husband, and who dives head-first into an affair with her dreamy co-star. They discover that their script, based on a Polish gypsy folk tale, is a remake of a movie that never completed filming as the leads were murdered. Their affair borders and blurs the “reality” of their fictional characters’ lives. Soon thereafter the actors can’t tell what’s up from down, and neither can we–but, hey, it is a David Lynch tale. Sit back and deal!
Our Daily Bread
Where does the prime rib come from that sits proudly on your carnivore-friendly dinner plate? And where are those vulnerable chickens kept as they lay their eggs. Who has to pluck the vine-ripened tomatoes and the thousands of heads of lettuce that we harvest? Are their instruments sharp enough? Do they have to bend from their backs–or crouch on their knees all-day? Who skins the pig before it becomes bacon? And since we need milk, how do “they” ensure that the population of cows keeps up its numbers–surely the cows can’t be forced to copulate on a schedule. And have you even ever wondered–where does the salt come from?
With probably less than 40 words uttered over the course of 90 minutes, this alarming, informative and very human meditation on ‘how we get our food’ reminds us that there’s more than meets the eye when diving our eager forks into the pretty food on our plates. A rigorous look taken at food-manufacturing companies, this documentary could almost be considered part-horror film. We humans part of an intricate eco-system that we’ve disrupted and manipulated with machines for survival–but is there a better way we could be handling it? Nikolaus Geyrhalter’s non-fiction outing from Austria is not necessarily intended to judge—and is surely not meant to be missed.
Marie Antoinette
There’s so much, and so little, to say all at once about this refreshing, risk-taking experimental biopic that is totally clear about its message–almost to a fault for some–yet, secretly intelligent for others: the complexities of a shallow life can spell doom, no matter how exhilarating or intoxicating. In this respect, Sofia Coppola’s work challenges the notion of royalty, and what better person to do so than a working, female director who’s part of a royal, cinematic dynasty–the Coppolas–who even have their own vineyards. With Kirsten Dunst playing a youthfully complicated Marie Antoinette and Jason Schwartzman (also of the Coppola dynasty), portraying a timorous Louis XVI, the lavishly gorgeous, anachronistic costume drama brushes its strokes–in a Hollywood type of way–reminiscent of Sally Potter’s smart, lush period piece Orlando. While it may not “read” as dense as Potter’s work, nor be as politically complex–it’s probably not suppose to have that weight, particularly in looking at the 18th-century Versailles through Coppola’s lenses, where her focus is the apolitical here. During a press conference she stressed that her intention was to “contrast the world of teenagers versus adults.”
Marie Antoinette further updates this period tale, and contextualizes in today’s 2006 where fashion and celebrity obsession has hit a fevered pitch and therefore, to speak its language, Coppola sets up a certain vocabulary–that of comfort shopping, frothy whimsy and trendsetting worship. Those elements may very-well nab a few production and costume design awards at this year’s Oscar’s. Okay, so considering the deep complexities of the French Revolution, the dazzling film sort of skims all the politics going on–but hey, seems like from the history books, Marie sorta skimmed ’em too. So, sit back and eat your cake!
