My top 5 films of the last 5 years

At work, one of my supervisors asked everyone, “what were your top 5 films of the last 5 years?” This question was surprisingly difficult to answer for many people, including myself. Apparently our movie memories are incredibly scatterbrained. It actually took me a solid day to think about what films truly made an impression on me in the last half-decade. For me, I chose films that left me thinking or provoked me, not the films that were necessarily “pleasant” to watch. So here were my answers.

(the films are all over the place, time-wise because they’re 5 films I’d watched in the last 5 years, not ones that were made in the last 5 years)

(more…)

On justification and close-ups.

This week, I was told to think about the “violence of justification” – how we let go of valuing something for itself when we say why it must exist, where the thing is then reduced to a means to an end. It’s an apt thing to think about, especially as a law student, where law school is often experienced as a means to an end, rather than as a thing that can be lived in itself.

And it makes me wonder, why is it so? This is not to say every day of my first year has been filled with epiphany and wonder, but I have certainly not been enduring this like some torture I must get through to the prize of…a big paycheck? I feel almost guilty expressing how much I enjoy what I am learning, and how I even enjoy reading some of the cases (the volume of readings I have to get through is another story) because it’s like reading a tedious Victorian narrative of human failure and tragedy. But if I had to tell you where this is all going or why this is important in the grand scheme of my “life” – where many plans had been scrapped or rerouted completely – I wouldn’t know where to begin.

The notion of justification as violence also reminds me of Deleuze’s theory of close-ups in cinema – where close-ups are these moments of “pure affect” where the face escapes the linearity of plot and the contained nature of the character for just a few seconds. The moment of potential and indescribable feeling, before being resolved into the totality of a narrative.

That pure affect is how I feel about life at the moment – the unresolved, unbridled potentiality, before having to “choose” – justify – my life choice of going to law school. I don’t have to tell everyone why I’m here and where I’ll be going – just yet.

[the clip above is from a 1928 silent film "The Passion of Joan of Arc," possibly the best film for multiple close-ups, as well as a useful experiment in experiencing narrative and temporality]

He said | She said: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2

he said she said harry potter deathly hallows 2

Well, it was a long time coming but Alex and I finally watched Harry Potter 2 and talked about it from a queer/feminist angle, as well as the series’s rather cliché central message. Our whole conversation here. And yes, there are lots and lots of spoilers.

Fantasia Film Festival: the reviews

[sorry this trailer for Bleak Night doesn't have subtitles...I couldn't find a clip with subtitles!]

As stated before, I had the pleasure of attending Fantasia Film Festival on Schema Magazine’s behalf, and seeing some kooky and thought-provoking films. Here are my reviews of the films I saw the past week: Bleak Night (Korea), Underwater Love (Japan) and Kill Me Please (Belgium). All were great in their own ways, and I am grateful that Fantasia exists that can house films like this under one festival’s roof.

Where I am: Fantasia Festival

This week, I’m at Fantasia Film Festival – a “genre” festival that showcases some of the most extreme and great foreign films – for Schema Magazine. Attached is a trailer for perhaps the most bizarre film trailer I’ve seen yet – Underwater Love (Japan, 2010). It screens tonight at 10pm  at Hall Theatre in Concordia, and 11:55pm tomorrow at the J.A. de Sève Theatre.

Where are the queens of pastry and culture?

Kings of Pastry

From "Kings of Pastry" (image from revuecinema.ca)

Recently, I went to see a documentary called “Kings of Pastry,” which was about a prestigious pastry competition called Meilleurs Ouvriers de France (the “Best Craftsmen of France”), or the MOF. This is like the Olympics of pastry baking (even in its frequency of taking place every four years). French bakers from all over enter the competition to make an absurd amount of sweets – an army of macarons, chocolate bonbons, a giant wedding cake, to precarious and fragile sugar sculptures (which, in my opinion, exist solely to make grown men cry when they break in the transport process) – over the course of 3 days. The judges (the other MOFs) give a score, and award the coveted tri-colour (France’s colours, obviously) collar to the deserving pastry makers, who can then join the exclusive club of renowned chefs who hold positions like the personal chef to President Sarkozy. It’s surprisingly suspenseful, seeing that the premise is about watching grown men stretch sugar ribbons and decorate wedding cakes. Also, watching men weep over a sugar sculpture was absurd, hilarious, and a little bit sad.

But one thing struck me while watching this: all the MOFs are…men. Every single one of the judges, and all of the competitors. The gender division was fairly clear in the documentary as I saw women in roles of consumers praising the chefs’ cakes in their personal bakeries, or as the supportive (and exhausted) partners and wives who sometimes had to sacrifice 8 or 12 years to their husbands preparing for the MOF.

Why?

The role of a “chef” seems to have solidified into a male profession. When I think of cooking shows, the prominent male hosts are portrayed in a “professional” domain, whereas the female cooking show hosts seem to be just that – hosts, for whom cooking happened to be a hobby that they excelled at. I’m thinking of Nigella Lawson or Rachael Ray

I’m also reminded me of a Three Percent podcast (an excellent conversation about books and the book publishing industry) I listened to recently, where both the podcasters struggled to come up with names of a female author who had the same kind of international clout as someone like, say, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, only to conclude that they couldn’t exactly think of one. I also struggle to think of a female “auteur” figure in cinema – has there been any “retrospective” event for a woman filmmaker, ever?

So what does it take it to have an influential culture-maker, or a chef? Will I ever get to see a film called “Queens of Pastry” anytime soon?

Bridesmaids and the feminist question


Bridesmaids, written by and starring Kristen Wiig, has gotten quite a lot of buzz because:

a) it’s a comedy written by a woman, when we all know that women aren’t as funny as men

b) it’s a comedy with a predominantly female cast, when…well, you get the idea.

So naturally, my curiosity piqued. Then certain journalists/bloggers started hailing this movie as some kind of a feminist triumph, even declaring that it was feminists’ duty to go see the film to make sure comedies by women featuring women would have a place in Hollywood in the future. Wow, okay. So I did what a good entertainment consumer would and bought tickets to go see it last week.

The outcome was a decidedly mixed one.

Yes, I did love that a comedy written by a woman could garner so much attention and commercial success. It was nice to see a group of women together on screen interacting with each other for a long period of time, and sometimes they weren’t even talking about boys! Kristen Wiig’s character, while portraying the typical schlub character in comedies, was still likable with actually funny lines.  The female friendship between the two main characters felt real in its strength and its ugliness.

On the other hand, that “woman” is still a white and heterosexual one who very much fits into the Hollywood mold of acceptable femininity. The woman who is physically bigger than everyone provides most of the physical humour in the film, though it tries to reconcile the fact by making her at least intelligent and successful. Maya Rudolph, who bore the honour of portraying many ethnic characters on SNL (along with Fred Armisen), was the only somewhat racialized character that got significant screen time. The movie still advocates the cutesy picture of heteronormative bliss – after all, it is called Bridesmaids.

All this criticism is not to discredit the genuine enjoyment I got out of the movie. I laughed a lot, which doesn’t happen frequently for many “comedies,” especially of the romantic kind. But is this really the feminist triumph that subverts boundaries and challenges stereotypes? I don’t know.

So, is Bridesmaids a feminist win? Perhaps more like a feminist baby step…for Hollywood.

[photo from indiewire.com]

Bill Cunningham New York: a tribute to an artist who does not want such fanfare

If it’s playing in your city, you should go see Bill Cunningham New York, a documentary about the legendary fashion photographer who’s been documenting the fashion trends for the New York Times since the late 70s.  One thing that struck me the most in the film were the staunch professionalism and the integrity of Cunningham, who loves fashion so much, yet refuses to be seduced by its decadence.  Because he knows everything about fashion and trends but lives completely outside of it – his work clothes are the uniforms of Parisian street sweepers, which can be found for around 20 euros and comes in a plastic package – he can be a true artist documenting fashion, rather than a scribe who lets the industry dictate his work. At one point of the film, he explains that he won’t even accept a glass of water when he’s photographing dozens of parties he goes to every night, because he’s working.  But his professionalism is a human and warm kind, not the austere and cold one – and he seems like such a delight to talk to with a big smile on his face, and everyone in the industry seems to love him.

The movie offers little in terms of Cunningham as a person, and perhaps that is the shortcoming of the film. But maybe this is only appropriate, because from what I can tell, Cunningham is someone who is not a private person per se, but does not really seem to really have one or want one. His apartment at Carnegie Hall is a great demonstration of his lack of need for a private life, because there is no kitchen or a dining area (where all kinds of private interactions in one’s family happens), and the bathroom and the showers are literally outside of his bedroom. Even his “bedroom” is a tiny cot surrounded by filing cabinets containing all of the negatives he took as a photographer. He physically sleeps with his work.

If you’re into photography and/or fashion, or are in the mood to see delightfully eccentric personalities in New York, this is it.

[In Montreal, the film is playing at Cinéma du Parc.]

Links Roundup: Japan, feminist blogging, and scholarships only for white men!

My thoughts go out to those in Japan affected by the earthquake and the tsunami. Google has responded with the Person Finder app, which would hopefully aid in the recovery. This footage of the tsunami literally sweeping through Kesennuma City is terrifying.

In this week’s WTF news: a Texas man has decided to establish a white male-only scholarship, because he “felt excluded. If everyone else can find scholarships, why are we left out?” Um, because scholarships that are not specifically dedicated to minority identities usually go to white men?

The Feminist Fashion Bloggers network now has a “home” blog page! See this week’s group post round-up here.

The Kickaction blogging carnival will feature daily blog posts written by writers from all over Canada, discussing women’s issues from various angles. It kicked off on Tuesday (International Women’s Day), and will continue throughout March. Check it out, and join the discussion!

I was interviewed by Concordia University student newspaper, The Link, to promote the Kickaction blogging carnival. I answered questions about why feminist blogging is important, and why I blog – you can find the article here.

Edited to add: Amérasia Festival closes this weekend! I’ve reviewed films and events for Schema Magazine, if you’re curious.

Amérasia Film Festival Review: A Brand New Life

[originally published in Schema Magazine]

Dir. Ounie Lecomte | South Korea 2009 | 92:00 | Korean w/ Eng. sub. | Cast: Kim Sae-Ron, Park Do-Yeon, Ko Ah-Sung

Screens SAT MAR 5 | 7:00 PM & SUN MAR 6 | 9:30PM at J.A. de Sève Cinema, Concordia University

In A Brand New Life, Korean-born and French-raised director Ounie Lecomte draws from her own life experiences to convey the hidden stories of Korean orphans waiting to be rescued by the kindness of strangers at a Catholic orphanage near Seoul.

The film opens with a smiling face of a young girl, out and about on errands with her father, whose face is obscured. She buys new shoes, a new coat, and a new dress – what seems like a typically uplifting day out with dad. But little after the credits, Jinhee is on the bus, and is dropped off at the orphanage, where her father exits with a weak excuse of going travelling.

Jinhee stubbornly holds onto the notion that she does not belong at the orphanage because she is not a real orphan. But slowly she comes to realize the true meaning of her father’s departure, and her new life purpose of finding new adoptive parents before her teenage years.

Through her matter-of-fact storytelling that stays away from melodrama, Lecomte portrays the less-than-ideal condition of the orphanage. There aren’t enough real plates (instead of metallic trays used for meals) when the children are having cake; the children also display a uniform look of mismatched sweaters and bowl cuts.

There are more blunt heartaches portrayed as well, such as the only teenaged orphan with a bad leg facing a romantic rejection, leading to an attempted suicide. In one of the truly extraordinary scenes, Jinhee decides that life is not worth living anymore after her only friend is adopted by a British couple, and decides to end her life by burying herself.

The emotional credibility of the film would of course be impossible without the talented young actresses, especially Kim Sae-Ron, who plays Jinhee. Kim’s expressive face shows amazing diversity and emotional maturity for such a young actress.

The sparse soundtrack and the understated cinematography capture the modest and quietly heartbreaking reality of the orphanage beautifully. A Brand New Life is a superbly rendered story of a sad reality in Korea that has been under-reported for too long.

[image from Amérasia Festival webpage]

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