feb29 to mar30 2024
and going dark
This will be my last entry on film-logging for the time being as I’ll be starting a new position this week that would require my efforts go there. The relocation whirlwind has been immense the past two weeks – I’m more than grateful to have squeezed in all the goodbyes needed over in Melbourne, the past weekend back home to recoup with family, the food I’ve dearly missed, the steady ground underfoot of recontextualised spaces and the scrutiny of one’s home. There will definitely be loose ends to come in the next few weeks but I shall take those in stride. Bing bong random generator time. Slim pickings at only 12 films.
Pompo the Cinephile – Takayuki Hirao (2021)
A joyous and hopeful film that exhibits the manga writer's (Shogo Sugitani) beliefs in what cinema means to him, filtered through a cast of characters that have undoubtable love for the medium. This is all set in a fictionalised Hollywood, less tongue-in-cheek more wide-eyed adoration.
The film's strength lies with its approach to and depiction of editing. As Gene sits in front of Premiere Pro, the sequences he edits folds into Martin's character in Meister – the work of actual editor Tsuyoshi Imai naturally shifts into the spotlight and is in dialogue with the titular Pompo's conventions. Whether or not Imai believes in it is a curious thought, especially when learning that a portion of the manga was cut.
The final push towards release day and awards season felt overly sweet, especially that funding meeting which defies much logic. It's silly and got a laugh out of me. I should carry a light again on set.
The Holdovers – Alexander Payne (2023)
A strong central trio that exudes humanity, the power of reaching out and the unlikely places one finds themselves doing so. All three's emotions run the gamut, slowly illuminating across the film's runtime in a New England of distant memory. An ode to the 70s without any overstatements.
While not an original tale of found family and the transformations that ensue, the character's interior worlds are never shown to us. Rather they are felt, on the actor's faces and when in response with those around them. A collective pathos.
While all three main actors each had a singular scene to cement themselves in my psyche, I remain astounded by Sessa's debut performance and the grace he brings. No doubt Paul and Da'Vine must have been instrumental in revealing this onscreen but I believe this went both ways. Their interplay as actors carries through as undeniable chemistry – there must have been genuine fondness by the end of production.
I definitely felt so.
Places in Cities – Angela Schanelec (1998)
Presently unsure of how many more of these kind of films I can watch. As Mimmi travels around and in search of searching, Schanelec accurately portrays one's idleness when alone – and how confronting it sometimes can be. Events that transpire, flutter past, only to be vaguely recalled through other's poor recounting, photographs or haphazardly written notes that forge new meaning.
As the last film of the triple bill and the flight to Singapore touching down, I revisited the last twenty minutes at home. As scenes pass by onscreen, I vaguely recall Mimmi's arc and experiences – I find myself thinking about my time spent in Melbourne. Mimmi often seems to merely exist in the spaces she carves herself into, she often ponders whatever that just happened.
The difference here between similar works is the confidence of Schanelec to needle drop at opportune moments. It never gets too sappy, always cutting in time to a character standing by the roadside, saying goodbye. Between viewings, this film got me to write down a lot of thoughts on my mind. And I'm thankful.
Haruhara-san’s Recorder – Kyoshi Sugita (2021)
Another peaceful venture into stillness, one engulfed with the quiet grit and persistence to simply carry on. The film unfolds slowly, Chika Araki's Sachi process of grief never over-stated. Its subtlety matches the mostly static cinematography, the camera panning over ever so slightly to reframe conversations with friends or with one's surroundings.
Watched this over two sittings, one night and revisited the last twenty minutes a few days later. I have told some that falling asleep to a meditative film probably ranks as one of the best feelings out there. This provided me the same, I was shocked to recall most of the sequences that I thought were lost to my lucid state.
Like Sachi in the back of the car, surrounded by family excited to see her, my sleep was one of comfort and safety.
Pretend That You Love Me – Joel Haver (2020)
Deeply personal meta-narrative as an exercise of grief, longing and reaching out. Packed with aching sincerity and a vulnerable nature that one can only dream of, the film is a standout example of no-budget filmmaking – one that hooked me into Haver's brand of filmmaking and the spiral of resources I binged on later that day.
Unlike some of the past meta-fictions, autofictions, personal documentaries I've watched, this film never did become cumbersome for me. It's edited in a linear fashion which casually avoids my personal qualm with the genre, the trap of over-editing and an obtuse plot structure. Thus, the blend of acting and cinéma vérité here feels chronological, and all the more devastating.
Finished this before my rewatch of the final section of Haruhara-san’s Recorder. What a sort of double bill.
Strong slate of films this time around, probably the last time I will plug this – don’t think I’ll be able to write much about most of the films I see from now on. The odd writing on letterboxd will definitely appear if watched for leisure I suppose. Since March 30, I have watched five other films until right now. Dogmilk Degustations’ Round 5 of programming at Miscellania (030424) – four short films from New Pessimism, a Yogyakarta-based creative studio collectivising the efforts of multidisciplinary artists Riar Rizaldi and Natasha Tontey – and rewatched Perfect Days with Ashan, Caroline and Simon (080424). Both were momentous for different reasons, one a potent reminder to embrace the minuscule and the other associated with a recent major turning point.
In the meantime, I’ll have a think on what to be posting here.
slow drip ramblings, on things done
I guess this sentiment still checks out two years later.
Thibault! Maybe I’ll watch Places in Cities, I’ve heard Schanelec’s name thrown around a lot but never seen anything