Sydney Film Festival - Day 1&2

I thought long about my decision to cover the Sydney Film Fest, about what form such coverage should take. At first I wanted to do a video-diary, then just interviews for my site, then simply a diary, then... well I guess I just didn't want the hassle. If this blog is going to be of any use, I guess I should start putting some interesting stuff on it.
Well then... over the next two weeks I'm going to post views and reviews of everything I come across at the 2007 SIFF. Considering that I'm seeing nearly 30 films, I think the initiative is justified.

The festival opened on Friday the 9th with Olivier Dahan's 'La Vie en Rose'. A splashy biopic about the great French icon, Edith Piaf, Dahan's film has garnered mixed reviews and countless gushing adjectives relating to the reportedly astounding performance of Marion Cotillard... Last time I saw her, she was playing a deadly sex kitten in Jean-Pierre Jeunet's 'A Very Long Engagement'. She's come a long way since then I guess, still playing a deadly sex kitten (in a way). I avoided the film, but the Sydney public was in ruptures as they always are when they get some second-hand French sophistication for a 15$ ticket and a bag of popcorn.

The next day the festival kicked in with some truly interesting Australian premieres. Namely 'A Walk Into the Sea: Danny Williams and the Warhol Factory' a documentary made by the subject's niece - Esther Robinson. Unfortunately I couldn't see it, but I find the subject immensely fascinating. Williams is almost a completely unknown filmmaker from Warhol's factory, plus his fate alone makes for an utterly compelling tale. He disappeared mysteriously in 1966 never to be seen again. I don't see it coming back on screens here... so thank God for DVD.

On the other hand, my expectations for Tony Ayres's new film 'The Home Song Stories' was barely lookewarm. His debut feature 'Walking on Water' left me as cold as a cube of ice, although it was praised to no end by all the Australian critics (the biggest malady of our bloody film industry). Thi one is not going to be any different ... expect a double orgasm from Margaret Pomeranz on 'At the Movies'.
As it turns out, Ayres returns to thematically similar ground - an autobiographical tale of a dysfunctional familial unit battling against all odds to stay together. The film tells the story of a Hon-Kong nightclub singer, Rose (the exquisite Joan Chen), who leads her children on an impulse to Australia in 1960s following a navy officer from Melbourne whom she met in Hon-Kong. After marrying the man, she briskly leaves him in a week, taking her son and daughter on an excruciating journey from one 'uncle' to another, until she's forced to come back to her husband again, only to leave him for a much younger Chinese migrant. As Rose ages, her self-confidence wanes as well. She resorts to emotional blackmail, namely suicide, to get what she wants.
Once you know that story is autobiographical you can't help but feel sorry for the filmmaker and his sister from whose points of view the film is rendered. It's a tragic tale for sure, but Ayres succeeds in taking a hard, long and generally restrained look at his mother whose emotional disbalance causes everyone so much grief.
The authenticity of the material is admirable as is the director's ability to condense this very episodic tale into a solid narrative structure. You never lose focus or become disengaged from the characters. This is largely thanks to the remarkable performances from the three leads. Joan Chen, whom we don't see often enough, gives an exceptionally complex performance as a woman who is seductive, vivacious, independent at one moment and destructive, manipulative, needy the next. The children are splendid too, hopefully we'll see more of them in the future.
While not a masterpiece, 'Home Song Stories' is one of those rare Australian films that really look deep into the immigrant experience and manage to wring some answers to as yet unanswered questions of identity, cultural difference and female empowerment within the context of Australia's recent history. The film sometimes veers dangerously close to a cathartic edge, at times almost falling into self-pity and melodrama. The framing device that the director used (a voiceover by the now adult son) is also really irritating because of its earnestness. It reeks of a desperate need for closure and is probably the biggest flaw in an otherwise fine film.
The NSW premiere was attended by the whole cast, including Joan Chen, and a Q&A session followed the film. Self-congratulations all-round. I also spotted a very grungy-looking Phillip Noyce making his way to the film with a very (and I mean very) young and attractive African woman. I'm sure it was just his secretary.