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TELLURIDE & MORE
It’s ironic that I am writing the new, weekly version of The Hot Button here in Los Angeles, in the no man’s land between festivals since Danis Tanovic’s film, No Man’s Land, was the find of this year’s Telluride Film Festival. Yes, the film did premiere at Cannes and it already has a distribution plan, starting with a limited release in December, thanks to United Artists, which picked the film up months ago. Still, the film didn’t win the Palm D’Or. I didn’t see all the contenders, but I can assure you of this… I have seen The Son’s Room and The Son’s Room is no No Man’s Land.
(Backing up a step, Nanni Moretti’s The Son’s Room is the assured, respectable, solid work of a veteran, semi-improvisatory filmmaker. It’s a good movie. But it is not even the best film on the subject this year, significantly inferior, in my opinion, to Todd Field’s In The Bedroom.)
No Man’s Land is a film that United Artists will have a very hard time selling as anything other than an arthouse flick. Even in the cineaste laden streets of Telluride, the phrase, “I don’t want to see another film about Bosnia” could be heard when the film came up in conversation as the festival 2began. Of course, they were wrong. First, there was the obvious response – “How many films about Bosnia have you actually seen?” But more importantly, No Man’s Land turns out to be as universal as its title. I would argue that the film could have been set in virtually any shooting war between any warring countries. Certainly, there are specifics that would have to be changed. But the film is about the human heart, not about any one socio-political conflict.
To try and dissect the film and explain it would be silly. The simple premise is that two men on opposite sides of the war end up stranded together in a middle trench on a battlefield, the no man’s land of the title. The struggle between life and death, winning and losing, humanity and destiny, drives the story, which finds a way to surprise over and over again without ever becoming smug and self-satisfied.
But above and beyond the film itself is Danis Tanovic, who wrote and directed and even wrote the remarkable score. I see Tanovic as a filmmaker very much in the mold of David O. Russell, who I admire greatly… except far more talented as a visualist already. To extend a comparison, I would argue that No Man’s Land is the superior version of Russell’s slightly overrated Three Kings. Russell’s film is far broader comedically and tries really hard to impress with its visual flourishes, yet ends up distracting the audience from the core message. Tanovic manages to bring the whole thing home, integrating Serbs, Bosnians, the U.N. paring of the French and British and a British TV crew with stunning elegance.
And, most impressive to me, Tanovic used the camera, with the help of his D.P., Walther van den Ende, with an assurance and skill beyond all but a handful of working directors. Why isn’t the film being acclaimed as an epic visual experience? Well, my appreciation is kind of like appreciating line play in football or the work of a first baseman in baseball… the work being done may the most important on the field, but you have to really be paying attention to see what is happening. There are some magical visual moments in No Man’s Land, but it is Tanovic’s handling of simple shots that is what impresses most. Like Bob Zemeckis’ grossly undervalued work in Cast Away, Tanovic manages to make the camera sing in scenes that are not particularly visual… two men in a ditch… you may think it’s easier to shoot that than to shoot a big battle… but it is not. Which is not to discount Ridley Scott’s genius in bringing life to epic images. But when you watch a lot of film, finding a first time director who can handle three characters in a 20’ by 10’ space and keep the audience feeling like we not only know exactly where each character is at any moment, but that we always know what each is thinking… wonderful work.
If he chooses to, Danis Tanovic can be the next great director of intimate films. That’s how strong No Man’s Land is. Start learning how to spell and pronounce this guy’s name.
All that said, No Man’s Land was not the best film at Telluride. Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amelie was. It was the best movie at Telluride. It is easily the best movie I have seen all year. And it may well remain the best film of the year after it appears at Toronto in a blizzard of over 200 films.
Last year, I believed that Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon could be a true phenomenon. And despite my sand in the shell irritation of Sony Classics, pushing them to push the film harder, harder, SPC managed to
make the magic happen. As brilliant as Miramax marketing department is, I’m not sure that they can turn the trick on Amelie. But then again, they did it for the previous highest domestic grossing non-English film, Life is Beautiful. Amelie is a much better film than Life is Beautiful. And most importantly, it is a film with a message of love that is every bit as powerful as the Holocaust drama. So, let’s all keep our fingers crossed.
Amelie tends to defy description, far more so than No Man’s Land. To call Amelie a grown-up fairy tale would be accurate… and inaccurate. To say that Amelie is about a gentle, sheltered soul looking for love would be fair… but far too limited a description. To explain Amelie as a film that reminds us that life is as complicated and funny and, ultimately, as effective as a Rube Goldberg device would be precise… but as vague as confusing as any description could be.
The name of the film says a lot about the film. I believe that the accurate translation of the title from the original French to English is, “The Fabulous Destiny of Amélie Poulain.” The German’s will see “The Fabulous World of Amelie” And we simple-minded Americans can’t handle more than the simple, “Amelie.” But all three titles work. The film is about this woman’s destiny. It is also a look inside her very personal world view. And it is a film about this one woman.
Jeunet is one of the world’s great visualists behind the motion picture camera. We already knew that. Delicatessen, which Jeunet co-directed with Marc Caro (no relation to the Chicago Tribune film writer) was an absolute feast. And their City of Lost Children was so rich that one could barely find the story in the pudding. Jeunet’s stand-alone debut, Alien Resurrection, was also quite beautiful, despite a mess of a screenplay that made David Fincher’s Alien 3 look positively slick by comparison. But like Fincher, Jeunet has come off his high profile disaster, returned to his roots, added some perspective on the world and made his best film (No, I don’t mean The Game. That film was another stepping stone on Fincher’s road to Fight Club, a film that I believe will, in time, be understood to be as seminal as Kubrck’s A Clockwork Orange.) Amelie has the heart of Cinema Paradiso, the visual style that combines the best of Vincent Minnelli, Frank Tashlin and Chuck Jones, the toughness of a Noel Coward lyric and the unrelenting kindness of a Spielberg film.
Though there were fans of other films at Telluride, like Italian for Beginners (saw it, liked it), The Cat’s Meow, Dear Fidel, Fat Girl (saw them, didn’t like them) and Nine Queens (missed it, looking forward to seeing it in Toronto), the two “runners-up” at the festival seemed to be two other films that could be classified as returns to form. Guillermo Del Toro has delivered his best film, far more accessible than Cronos and certainly watchable, unlike Mimic. The film is called The Devil’s Backbone. It’s the story of a group of orphans and their small, but dedicated group of teachers, who live in what feels like an abandoned fortress, just beyond the reach of the Spanish Civil War. Everyone over the age of 18 is haunted by their past. But the haunting is literal as well. And as with so many such stories, the key to it all is “the new kid.” Del Toro has delivered a true thriller, clammy and creepy as “The One Who Sighs,” a.k.a. The Ghost.
The other “runner up” is Lantana, the first film in 16 years from Bliss director Ray Lawrence. As Lawrence introduced the film, Lantana was the result of a 16 year wait needed to make a film about middle age… he’ll be back in another 16 years with his film about old age. All joking aside, Lawrence finds a way into the heart of the middle-aged experience, from all kinds of angles. And he manages to build a whodunit that magically makes the question of “why” even more important than “who.”
The reason Lantana is not the “it” film of Telluride 2001 is inherent in its nature. It is a tiny jewel box of a movie. Every single performance in the film is special, from a 3-line role to the lead. (Though Anthony LaPaglia seems to be the lead, he graciously shares the spotlight with the rest of the ensemble, as each member gets a moment at the plate, each empowered by Lawrence to hit one out down one run with one on in the bottom of the ninth.)
I had the rather odd experience of being at Telluride with one foot still in journalism and pretty much every other part of me in the role of Director of the Miami Film Festival. Nonetheless, the festival remains a joy and stands apart from all others. Co-Directors Tom Luddy and Bill Pence are the hosts of the party and they not only make sure that everyone feels like the glass is half full instead of half empty, but they go out of their way to make sure that every glass remains full. And the festival itself continues to improve. This year, they added a 500-seat venue at a cost, I was told by non-directing insider, of $400,000. And everyone who attended a film at that venue gushed about how great the venue is.
As Monday afternoon turned into night, that venue and most of the others were being deconstructed. This year’s party was over and Toronto was just inches below the horizon. My evolution continues.
©2001 David Poland
All Rights Reserved.