Showing posts with label Jack O'Connell. Yann Demange. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jack O'Connell. Yann Demange. Show all posts

2/18/2014



The carpets roll up tonight in Potsdamer Platz after what has been an exhausting but rewarding festival. Previews began on January 8th and since then this knackered writer has seen 66 films from this enormous program. Some good, some bad and some butt ugly. These were the best bits.


Best press Conference: Nymphomaniac: Part I (Uncut)

Few can elicit such press salivation as Lars Von Trier. The grade-A messer was dubbed Persona Non Grata at Cannes for slightly sympathising with Adolf Hitler in the Meloncholia press junket. He hasn’t given one since but showed up in Berlin in a t-shirt emblazoned with the French festival's logo. Still he did not sit for the conference but a fellow headline grabber did. Shia LaBeouf stole the show from the great Dane by sitting in silence, chewing gum in a baseball hat, till the first banal question came his way. His response was to quote Eric Cantona’s Sardines/trawler quip and leave the room.

The director stayed silent but the Von Trier circus was most certainly in town.



Best Line:

“It’s just posh cunts telling thick cunts to kill poor cunts”

-          A Belfast republican gives his glowing review of the British armed forces in surprise favourite 71’.


Top 5 films:


5. The Little House
Yoji Yamada

A wonderfully traditional portrait of romance in wartime Japan delivered with the assured delicate touch of its old pro director. It was the last competition film to screen and we welcomed it with open arms.


4. 71’
Yann Demange

From the eyes of a young British soldier, 71’ not only captured the incredible complexity of what was going on in Belfast in the lead up to Bloody Sunday, but also managed to do so without taking sides. We entered the screening with extreme prejudice but soon gave in. A remarkable achievement from first time director Yann Demange and, let’s hope, a springboard lead role for the inexplicably overlooked Jack O’Connell.


3. Nymphomaniac
Lars Von Trier

If Lars Von Trier was put on this earth for the sole purpose of annoying everybody, this could very well be his magnum opus. The feeling of anticipation at the packed house press screening is something only Von Trier could muster. He shows us we’re nothing more than a bunch of degenerates, and we love it.


2. Jack
Edward Berger

There is more than a hint of the Dardenne brothers to Edward Berger’s Jack, but the German director has taken their story out of the council estates and plopped it smack in the narcissistic middle class. The results were fresh and defiantly powerful.


1. The Kidnapping of Michel Houllebecq
Guillaume Nicloux

Michel Houllebecq played himself with nihilistic swagger for this fly on the wall Stockholm syndrome gem. Guillaume Nicloux's film was like a bucket of paint stripper to all the festival's showbiz and nonsense.
It was also very very funny. Simply unmissable. 

 
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