The annual NZ Film Festival has come to an end and, having seen many good films over the last two-and-a-half weeks, let me hit you with my 230 KB review stick:
Is there some kind of system to how they tear the tickets?
I can now look forward to getting enough sleep. No regrets, though, because not a single one of those films was bad, and more than half were really excellent. $150 well spent, I tell you what.
It kicked off with Who Killed the Electric Car? which I had expected to be a lightweight warm-up, but turned out to be far better. Many great lines, and overall a real eye-opener. I loved the bit where Americans attitudes towards energy policy were described as “they’ll make me drive a small car, make me be cold in my own home… in other words, make me live like a European.” I think most memorable was near the end where an engineer was showing us his latest electric car: “300 mile range on a full charge, and 0-60mph in 3.6 seconds.” As one, the crowd gasped – at no point in the movie was the feeling stronger that the wool had been pulled over our eyes. 3.6 seconds is faster than a Ferrari.
Unsurprisingly, then, the film ended on a positive note, confident of an electric car resurgence. And just so you know, it has begun.
Special mention also goes to The Science of Sleep, a film I have twice been asked to compare to Eternal Sunshine, and twice declared that I cannot. The Science of Sleep does not tackle as meaty a subject, but I still think it could be as good a film. For one, it is HahahaLOL funny. For another, it beautifully captured the insanity of that crazy place between sleep and wake. I guess what I’m saying is, you should see it.
China Blue was a great film. Through the story of a young girl, we got to see the reality of working 15 hours a day, 7 days a week, for about 6 cents an hour. It was horrible and at the same time inspirational, as the girl still, somehow, had hope. After her shift she would write in her diary. She told us that she kept herself awake on the long overtime shifts by imagining she was in the world of her stories, where a young girl used powers learnt from an ancient Kung Fu master to bring justice to the world.
What struck me most about it, however, was the way in which China’s exploited factories marched so strongly in the direction of their oppressor, America. There was one scene where the factory boss sat at his makeshift board table and declared to his deputies, “we’re falling behind schedule. Go the sewing department; promote all the competent workers, and fire all the useless ones!” Then he grinned and cackled. Meanwhile his deputies chirped in “yes boss!”, “good idea sir!”. It was like the most hyperbolic parody of an American capitalist, played out right before our eyes. Meanwhile one of the young girls working there said that she and her boyfriend dreamed of “one day saving up enough money to start our own small business.” No!, I screamed.
This screening was particularly special as the director was in attendance. We had questions and answers afterward, in which inevitably someone asked, “what can we do?”. He asked everyone who was wearing jeans to stand up. He then said, those whose jeans were not made in China, sit down. And we all stared at each other like retarded sheep, because we had no fucking clue. His point was well made. He went on to say that, if we doubled the wages of the employees, and paid an inspector to ensure this, and then passed 100% of that cost on to the consumer, it would be a few extra dollars per pair. Would you prefer to pay $125 for a pair of jeans guaranteed “No sweatshops” rather than $120 for a pair that weren’t? Well, I would pay that $5. I imagine many of you would too. He says we should be campaigning for such an option. I guess sometimes the free market needs a good kick in the guts before it splutters into action.
I had the privilege of talking to the director after the film and voiced my concerns of The Great Chinese Dream. He remarked that when he had shown this film at a school in China, while half the class identified with the young worker, the other half identified most with the boss. The very same personality that would in only a few years be exploiting them. Especially considering the way the boss spoke of his employees – he considered them to be utter dirt. I suggested that, in 50 years, we would see a film about Chinese consumers buying expensive jeans that had been made in sweatshops in Africa. “I’m sure we will,” he replied. No!, I screamed.
Last Supper looked at how various cultures, as far back as the ancient Greeks, would provide a last meal to those who were about to be executed. Originally it had been to ensure the eternal soul would make the journey to the afterworld – because the last thing you want hanging around is the insatiably hungry ghost of a man you killed. He might be angry. It was a very interesting study and a great film to wind down with.
I think the most memorable part from this film was about a man in Texas, who was executed in the 1990s even though he was mentally retarded. For his last meal, he asked for pecan pie and icecream. When the guards came to take him away, they asked why he had not eaten his icecream. “I’m saving it for tomorrow,” he explained. And I stared at the screen and I thought, Fuuuuuuucked! That is fuuucked! Somebody do something, that is fucked!
Going back a few hundred years, I have an even better one. A king, after surviving an attempt on his life, had the would-be assassin killed, the conspirators killed, and all of the conspirators families killed. He only spared one life – the eldest daughter of one of the conspirators. Instead he locked her in a tower in his castle. The executioner slowly killed her by visiting her cell each day and shaving off a slither of her flesh.
Each day, the slither of her flesh was fried in curry and she was forced to eat it. Fuuuuuuucked!
