Guest Blogger - Jennifer Le Vecque: VIFF 2010 – Day One

As both En Vogue and Morpheus have told me, free your mind, and the rest will follow.  VIFF 2010 has put THAT theory to the test.  While the mind is certainly willing to be free, I am not sure about the rest, or the following…

In my first day of films, I have so far been cozied up to by the charming and determined ladies of ‘60’s Dagenham, bitch slapped and left in a gutter for dead by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, and granted the token Naked Man Vacuuming scene which, as everyone knows, normally accompanies a Dutch film.  I am not sure how free my mind is at this point, but it sure has been shaken and stirred.  

I am pleased to report that my choice for initiation in to VIFF 2010 was a grand one – I thoroughly enjoyed Win/win, and embraced the socially awkward yet disarming main character, Ivan.  The film was engaging from the start and welcomed the audience in to Ivan’s unique reality.  There was enough of a dramatic element to carry the story and the ending has provided us with the sub-theme of the festival, the Year of the Sneaker.  From this point forward, all films will now be regarded for their quality of athletic or casual footwear, apart from general themes and creative individuality.  

Made in Dagenham is probably the most mainstream movie I will see the fest year.  It was enjoyable, albeit with a bit of a beige ending, and due to the period setting, a total lack of athletic footwear.  Bob Hoskins was his brilliant self in a smaller, supportive role, despite disappearing with about half an hour left in the story.  He reminded me of a kind Dickens Santa-style uncle that always pressed a fiver in to a child’s hand just for candy.  Sally Hawkins is a relatively new face to me, someone I was introduced to via VIFF 4 years ago in the Mike Leigh film, Happy-Go-Lucky.  She is one of those genuinely interesting women that seem to be involved in a film because there is something extra to it.  I think I like watching her because she can be vulnerable on screen without seeming weak.  That’s something to acknowledge.

My gently charming and engaging Saturday was brought to a car-crashing halt with the truly unflinchingly brutal look at how awful humanity can be, or has become, with the oh-so-inversely named Biutiful.  I have struggled to comprehend the layers, to understand the lesson, to take away the value of this film, and I am disappointed to say that I only feel like I’m being punished.   I have lived a life of relative luxury, and Inarritu has spanked me for it.  There were small moments of kindness and grace, but nothing that would balance the darkness that is addressed.  

I may glean from this story that the excellence of human beings is not always in the grand gestures, but perhaps in the small kindnesses we express, the paths we DON’T take, the times we simply show up and are present rather than letting things fall away from us, but I have no idea if this is the intended message.  I believe this is a film of excellence, but the story is conveyed in a manner that I found so heavy handed and unforgiving that I cannot translate it with certainty.  At some point on Monday, I was able to articulate my thoughts about Biutiful, which I think is a sign that it is a movie to be regarded and respected.  Did I LIKE it?  Hell no.  Will I ever see it again?  Hells no.  Would I change the fact that I did see it?  No.  

Once I figure out how to remove Alejandro’s foot from my ass I may be able to tell you whether or not the Year of the Sneaker will be the most complete year I have attended at the fest to this date.  Until then, I am walking funny and have a vaguely pained expression on my face.  You may recognize me, or the expression if you too have seen his film.  If not, please be kind, as my mind has been freed, and I am struggling to catch up.

- written by Jennifer Le Vecque