A Taste of Home

I was surprised with this little gem last night before going to the beach. I miss my kitty meow meow! And Derek too, of course.

Weekend de Travel-Day One: Italy

Before and during this trip, I had heard about "Post Festival Depression.": basically meaning that after the festival it's hard to adjust to a slower pace/the sadness of the festival being over. Towards the end, though, I honestly was ready to just relax. I thought I was immune. However, I wasn't completely. I guess I did suffer from PFD at times, especially going into Cannes a couple of times after the festival and seeing it much more empty and losing all signs of the festival. It was a little sad.

But, after four days of class the travel weekend came to my rescue! Although I had planned to take a trip to Paris even before coming to France, those plans quickly changed. To save money for after travel after the program, I decided to stay in Juan-les-Pins and go on day trips around here. Seeing as London and Portugal await me after the program, I was more than happy to stay back and have an eventful, yet relaxed weekend.

Thursday (May 26) I was in class until about 2 o'clock, antsy to get my weekend started. Soon after class, I hopped on a train with Sophie, Lily and a small group of the others and headed to Vintimiglia, Italy. This train ride was the hottest I had been on the entire trip--no air conditioning. Needless to say, everyone was smelly, sleepy and sweaty.

After several stops, including one in Nice for the Paris-goers to catch their flight and in Monaco for the rest of the group to sight-see, the three of us arrived in Italia. Although it's pretty much right over the line between Italy and France, the culture was completely different. I noticed right away, and it was cool to hear a different language being spoken.

When we got off of the train, we walked around for a while and just took in the sights. We walked to a park, then across a bridge towards the water. Everywhere I looked it didn't seem real!

Here I am on the bridge. Mountains were on one side and the ocean was on the other. The water was gorgeous, and the beach was rocky instead of sandy. I made sure to pick out some of the rocks to bring home with me. As we walked down to the water, "Bella! Bella!" was heard from a group of men sitting on the sidewalk. I had heard that Italian men were more forward, and they certainly were. It gave the three of us a big laugh!

Me dipping my feet into the Mediterranean.  

 

After we explored the beach and decided we would return for dinner, we went back into town. The photos above are so quintessentially Italian! Every street had Italian flags hanging outside of the windows, laundry drying on laundry lines, mopeds and scooters parked. It's funny how some ways you view other countries is based on what you hear or see in the movies--now that I was actually in Italy, I saw that the movies can be true. The women on the bench were sitting outside of a bakery we stopped in for a sweet bite. We also went to a little shop that was filled with different pastas, sauces, wines and cheeses. I got a bottle of wine, my souvenir from Italia.

Here's a fountain on the walk back towards the bridge to the beach. I love this photo. 

And now...the best part. Food! We were the second table to be seated right at 7pm when the restaurant, Stella Marina, opened. Lily ate at the restaurant last year and promised us a good meal. She was certainly right! The bread was delicious and so was my ravioli and salad seen below. Lily got fish, which they prepared at the table, and Sophie got spaghetti. Molto bene! We also had a beautiful view of the water.

 

During and after dinner that was someone flying around in this. He got really close to buildings, but I guess he knew what he was doing. It looked like fun to me!

On the walk to the bridge...so pretty. 

Lily, Sophie and me on our way to catch the train back to Juan-les-Pins.

On the train ride back, something odd happened. As we sat waiting for the train to start, two men and a woman got on as well. One of the men approached the woman and asked in Italian if he could sit with her on the ride back (knowing Spanish helped me understand a lot of what they said). At first she vehemently said no in French, pretending not to know Italian. But after he urged on more she agreed, now speaking in Italian, and then asked us in English if they could sit across from us. We said yes. From their conversation I gathered that he was illegally in Italy from Tunisia and wanted to sit with her/us so the police wouldn't ask for his ID. At the next stop, two police officers did come on the train and took his friend away, but not him. It really made me wonder how that must be a hard life to live, and was amazed that appearance/association kept him from being singled out and checked. It was an interesting experience. The woman talked to us about how she has lived in Miami and London where she learned English. They both got off the train in Nice, she to meet her daughter and husband, he I have no clue. Soon after was our stop in JLP. 

My day in Italy was great. I loved that without having to go very far I was able to experience a different culture and have a big change of scenery. It was beautiful, and I came back with lots of memories--and a belly full of pasta. 

Film Review Six: "Beauty"

Beauty is the Beast

Director: Oliver Hermanus

Distributor: MK2 S.A

Lead Actors: Dean Lotz, Michelle Scott, Charlie Keegan

Running Time: 99 minutes

            Beauty, a South African film in majority Afrikaans, is by far one of the worst films I have ever seen. Director Oliver Hermanus creates a sick, twisted character who commits something unthinkable, and the film is a mere boring vessel to showcase his doings.  

François (Deon Lotz) is a working-class, married man with college-age children. He lives in an empty nest with his wife Elena (Michelle Scott), and the two seem about as interested in each other as a toddler is in reading the Wall Street Journal.

Snooze.

            There is a probable reason for their lackluster marriage. François is leading a life not fit for him, and is not able to express his true self in society. He settled for a life with a woman—traditional and acceptable. Yet, early in the film the viewer sees that François finds his ways of dealing with his unfit life. On his lunch break, François drives to a house where a group of men are drinking beer in the kitchen. It becomes apparent that this midday rendezvous is not your typical rugby game get together.

The camera cuts to the group having sex in the bedroom, and this scene is shown in great detail. There is porn playing on the television, lots of sound, and all sorts of sex. Although a few quick shots would have gotten the point across, the camera stays fixed upon the different couples far too long—it is gratuitous not for its content but for its lack of importance in the narrative. This drawn-out scene does not cause the audience to feel anything for François or to identify with him.

Hermanus makes more than clear the double life that he is leading.

            However, it is not only François who is seeking love in other places. The first instance of his voyeurism is when he discovers that Elena is having an affair as well—she leaves a man’s house laughing and beaming as she gets in her car, François watching from his truck. This is pointless, however, because it is never revisited or further developed. The scene’s only purpose is to add to the slow-moving, unimportant sludge that is this film. The often static camera focuses on what François is watching and his reactions, and they are not very intriguing.

            Unfortunately, his detective work continues. François goes on to stalk his “nephew” Christian (Charlie Keegan) who is the son of his good friends. He follows him to school, watches his interactions, and even aims to ruin Christian’s friendship with his own daughter. François radiates a heavy, aggressive desire for Christian that must be fulfilled, much to our chagrin. In so many words, François is a quasi-incestuous stalker who turns violent.

Just as the initial sex scene is too long, so is the rape scene—the film’s climax. 

François’ pent up desires lead to this portion of the narrative that is not so much the pinnacle of the work, but the only action in the movie. The sluggish pace makes the god-awful rape scene that much more jarring. Every minute of the rape is shown, and it is the most violent I have ever scene. The film gives nothing and then gives too much—an unwanted gift.

            The most frustrating aspect of the film is that it could have been meaningful; there are traces of substance. François’ inability to live his life as a gay man—who he was born as—leads to repression and rage, which could bring to light the ramifications of a restrictive, non-accepting society. An important issue worthy of much attention, this film is not a tool for raising consciousness. Hermanus botched the potential of the work by making it boring and repulsive. Replace the story with any other character and it would still be just as off-putting. Beauty came somewhat close to meaning something, but failed.

            While the film is a nauseating train wreck, it does have its few strong points. Every character’s acting is believable, especially the performance given by Lotz. His job was to play a demented rapist, and he sure delivers. He is broken, torn and warped. While we feel no sympathy, we understand exactly who his character is. Yet, I wish we had never had the displeasure of meeting.  

            Adding insult to injury, the concluding shot is beyond obvious and unnecessary: François drives down a spiral in a parking deck, blatant symbolism for his demented, unraveling state. The film follows right behind him in his downfall towards destruction—just as it should.      

Wrapping up the festival

-Saturday May 21

My Saturday began with one of the most disturbing movies I have ever seen. Beauty, a South African film by Oliver Hermanus, was uneventful and slow up until a horribly violent scene. I wish I had those two hours back in my life. Luckily for me, though, I was in for a much better film next. Drive, the film by Nicholas Winding Refn and starring Ryan Gosling, was being screened. It wasn't completely what I was expecting, but it was certainly entertaining and fun to watch. It was a breath of fresh air after all of the horribly depressing, disturbing films I had seen at the festival. Drive had its unexpected violent moments, but it was awesome and different. So glad I got to hear the director (and Ryan!) just a few days prior. 

After the rest of the day in Cannes, there was a surprise movie on the beach. They set a big screen up in the sand with lots of chairs, and they gave out warm blankets.

  

Here's Lily, Sophie and me bundled up waiting for the movie to start. Lot's of boats were lit up out on the water--very pretty.


There was an interview with Jane Fonda screened before the movie, Corman's World, was screened. It was a documentary on director Roger Corman. It was very interesting and had people like Jack Nicholson talk about working with him in the past.

After the movie these twin boys were entertaining people walking by. Here is one posing for me--afterwards he smiled, gave me a little salute and ran off with his brother. 

Even though some people were up for going out after the movie, I was exhausted. I headed back to JLP and kind of regret it--Chelsea got to meet Kirsten Dunst in the Majestic bar, and told her that she thought her dress was pretty. Kirsten replied with "thank you, you're so cute." 

-Sunday May 22

Sunday was a bittersweet day. While it was the last day of the festival, which was an amazing experience, I was ready for a little bit of R&R. My day started off with finally seeing The Tree of Life by Terrence Malick. Walking into the theater I was very excited, but also nervous because of the horror stories of the opening screenings: apparently, people walked out, booed and yelled at the premiere. This made me really upset--this film was the one I was most excited about seeing before coming to the festival. I took my seat in the back of the theater and waited for it to begin. Let's just put it this way: when I left the theater, I had tears streaming down my face. Not from sadness, but from amazement at how beautiful the film was (See trailer below) and what a personal impact it had on me. It is the best film I saw at the festival.

After watching The Tree of Life alone, which I'm glad I did, it was time to get in line for the new Pedro Almodovar film called The Skin I Live In. It was nothing like I had expected from the teaser trailer, but I really had no idea what to expect. It was such a cool, unusual movie to wrap up my time at the festival. Take a look:

After the film, a lot of people in the group decided to stay in Cannes to try to get into the closing ceremonies. Yet another possible regret, I decided to head back to JLP. I was seriously running on low battery and just needed to head back and sleep, and I figured I would learn of the winners of the festival anyway. Sure enough, as I was eating dinner I learned that The Tree of Life won the Palme d'Or, the top prize at Cannes. Kirsten Dunst won best actress, which I was happy about but a little surprised after seeing Tilda Swinton's performance in We Need to Talk About Kevin. Nicholas Winding Refn won best direction for Drive. All in all, I was happy with the winners and it was so great to have seen the films!

Class started the next morning, so I was in bed early to get ready for my 8:30am wake up. At the moment, I'm about to go get some soft serve ice cream. Stay tuned for updates from the last week of classes and my travel weekend! 

Here's a teaser, and my new French haircut!

I'm Determined...

...to catch up to present day in this post! So, here it goes.

First of all, there's something I forgot. On Wednesday before hearing Ryan Gosling speak, I snapped a picture of Faye Dunnaway at the American pavilion. This was just after the waiter had spilled drinks all over her table:

-Wednesday Night May 18
Wednesday night was my FIRST red carpet premiere. That's right...my begging finally paid off! I put on my dress my grandmother got me (Hi Mimi!), made my begging sign, and waited outside of the Palais. Ten minutes later, a man came up to me and gave me two tickets! It was the best feeling. Lily and I were in! Soon after, Sophie got a ticket as well. Then, it was off to the red carpet and into the Lumière to choose our seats

    

Sophie and Lily begging for their tickets.

The red carpet!

Photo Sophie took of me after walking the red carpet steps!

Kirsten Dunst walking the red carpet right outside the theater. 

Melancholia is certainly one of the best films I saw at the festival. It was so great to be in the theater with the people who made the film, and I was left blown away. It was beautiful and eerie, and can't wait for it's release in the U.S later in the year. After the premiere it was pretty late, so after catching a taxi back to the residence it was bed time!

-Thursday May 19
Thursday was another day filled with great speakers. Early in the morning (for a college student at least) at 10, we met with filmmaker Paul Cox in the solarium at the top of our residence. Going in expecting to hear about his films and his history, I was pleasantly surprised with something completely different from anything we had heard on the trip:

"Don't imitate life, invent life."

"Reality is riddled with dreams and unrealities."

-Paul Cox

These were just two inspiring, beautiful quotes he shared with us. He brought to light how we can make change in the world, especially through creation. I left with tears in my eyes from a story he shared not only of his kidney transplant that changed his life, but also of a personal experience he had while in the hospital. It made me realize how one's life experiences can be made into art, and how this art can go on to change the world. I hope to be this sort of filmmaker one day.

Next it was on to the American pavilion to hear from a writer at the Chicago Tribune, Michael Phillips. I had heard Michael speak in Athens before, so it was great to hear him again. He gave some great advice on writing a good film review, and shared a little about his favorites and least favorites at the festival. Even though he didn't like We Need to Talk About Kevin, one of my top 5 favorites, I cut him some slack seeing as he's a famous film critic and all.

Soon after a day filled with talks, I had a delicious pasta dinner at Casanova with Angelique and Chelsea, my future London buddies!

Thursday night it was off to the Majestic hotel, one of the more ritzy places to stay in Cannes. Big stars stay there, and I was hoping to spot one. On the last day of the festival, Chelsea talked to Kirsten Dunst and a couple years ago someone got caught in an elevator with Brad Pitt. Below are some photos at the hotel bar. I went with Will, Sophie, Lily and their friend Raven. You can see my enjoying my $30 drink (gotta splurge every once in a while!):

-Friday May 20

My second Friday at the festival began with by far the happiest movie I had seen--The Artist by Michel Hazanavivus. Want to know what's cool about this movie? It's silent. Done in ultimate 1920s style, the main characters act for as as they do in the pictures they make in the story. It was a great story, had great actors, and made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It also made me want to learn how to tap dance...

Speaking of warm and fuzzy, the best part of the day was getting to see the lead actor from one of my favorite films (A Clockwork Orange by Stanley Kubrick): Malcolm McDowell. It was truly a surreal experience. As Sophie and I rushed up the steps literally two minutes before the talk was supposed to begin, and not even knowing if we had permission to go in, we saw Malcolm standing in the doorway. We were told we could go take a seat, and I walked right past him on my way inside. Being inches away from the actor from a film I've seen nearly ten times was an out of body experience. Once seated on stage, the program began asking him his thoughts on acting and his personal experiences. They also showed clips from his films. He was charming, funny and engaging. Such a great experience. 

This experience was pretty hard to beat, and the screening of La Havre by Aki Kaurismaki didn't come close. It was an okay film and story, but it's not the best I have seen. Moving on.

That night I had a delicious pasta dinner, more than likely did some review writing, and then hit the hay. 

I know I sought out to catch up to present day in this post, but in order to give you folks something to read I think I'll save that for the next one (I've been slowly working on this for the past two days...). I'll leave you with a couple of videos: 1) Malcolm speaking about his first day of shooting for A Clockwork Orange 2) An angry French woman screaming at someone on the phone at the train station...she was peeved.

About to head to bed after an afternoon and delicious dinner in Italy. More on that later!

Film Review Five: "The Tree of Life"

The Tree of Life: A Reflection

Director: Terrence Malick

Distributor: Summit Entertainment

Lead Actors: Brad Pitt, Sean Penn, Jessica Chastain

Running Time: 138 minutes

            As filmmaker Paul Cox states, “Reality is riddled with dreams and unrealities.” The reality within Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life is just this. The film’s intricate representations of dreams and memory blend together to form a surreal world. In fact, this world is solely dreams and unrealities.  

            Not a novice to directing or screenwriting, Malick’s newest film is truly a work of his own. The film has a rather loose narrative that deals with the dynamics of a southern family, flashing between decades of time. In present day, Jack O’Brien (Sean Penn) mourns on the anniversary of his brother’s death—he was killed as a soldier in the war when he was nineteen. When this news is first received, Mr. O’Brien (Brad Pitt) and Mrs. O’Brien (Jessica Chastain) face the difficulties and regrets of losing a child. Their worries and wishes compose much of the spoken word in the film, urging acceptance and peace.

Just as Mr. O’Brien explains to his three sons, the word subjectivity means it comes from your own mind. Terrence’s work is subjectivity defined: personal thoughts, prayers and memories are whispered throughout the film, played over such wondrous images as ocean tides, a boy swimming through his house underwater, and cavernous spaces. It is a series of the characters’ relflections.

Because the minimal storyline in the film focuses on a family tragedy, one may wonder as to why there is a lengthy sequence of nature shots towards the middle of the film. Comets crash into earth, cells form, exotic fish swim and dinosaurs roam. Dinosaurs?

Yes, dinosaurs.

However out of place this portion of the work may seem, it is an answer—an answer to Mrs. O’Brien’s questions of where we come from, and who is listening when we need them. Meaning aside, it is a wonderful series of natural beauty that one marvels at. Mrs. O’Brien asks and we are shown the answers—the beginnings of life as we know it.  

The most flooring aspect of the film is that it displays visions of the past as one imagines it in the mind, which is not an easy task. As I watched the film alone, I realized what a very personal experience I was having with The Tree of Life. Places from our childhood turn into distant, foreign yet all the while familiar realities; much like a dream, it is hard to discern between past truths and imaginations. This is the connection I made with the film, as well as why it brought me to tears. The work is a lovely visual representation of the relationship one has with the past, as well as to their personal thoughts.

Yes, it is a long film.  Many may argue that it should have been an hour shorter or not have been made at all. But, it is the work’s length that makes it that much more of a dream sequence. The reflections of four people are expressed throughout the film, something that certainly takes a great amount of time to express fully.

Another theme explored in Malick’s work is that of identity and how it changes over time. In the gorgeous final sequence of the film, on an unidentified beach Jack meets with his younger self (Hunter McCracken). They seem content with one another and Jack rejoices with his parents, and several others assumed to be from his entire life. They commune and comfort one another. They find release.

This release is finally found after a stream of consciousness journey. From the beginning of the world, the story jumps to Mr. O’Brien spraying his sons with the garden hose and to the young boys learning to talk—from dinosaurs to piano lessons. It is this fact that the film is not so much a story as it is a reflection, a scattered line of thought. It’s a work of art.

            The Tree of Life is riddled with dreams and unrealities, and we see it on every limb.

French Dog Takes a Dip

Here's a video I took of a dog playing fetch in a fountain--right in the heart of Cannes.