Playground - Un Monde

Playground

Un monde

 

Director – Laura Wandel

Writer – Laura Wandel

2021, Belgium

Stars – Maya Vanderbeque, Günter Duret, Lena Girard Voss

 

Laura Wandal’s camera is only really interested in the faces and reactions of our two young protagonists and never strays, only occasionally taking in the faces of others. We first meet sister and brother Nora and Abel in a fraught embrace as this is Nora’s first day at the school and she’s very nervous. And that’s the poster.

 

What follows is a back-and-forth, up-and-down rotations of the bullying that comes between the siblings that comes to define their lives as they try to negotiate their place in this world. Watching Nora (Maya Vanderbeque) build in confidence and find friends is warming, but that too comes with pitfalls and snidey remarks – more bullying.  It’s a short film and just as anxiety-inducing and gruelling as ‘Uncut Gems’, but without the fun. It’s spare, direct and acutely focused even as it is loose enough to allow the naturalism and, therefore, vulnerability of the young actors to reach through to audience empathy.

 

And it is even more enraging for the recognisable truths it portrays, a clear-eyed portrayal of playground and classroom politics for anyone that’s been the recipient. Its protagonists are just youngsters trying to survive in a world of cruelty, whether that’s outright physical violence or micro-aggressions. The adults are mostly helpless in this battlefield. Indeed, one vivid moment is when a beloved teacher admits that sometimes adults don’t know what to do. There are no solutions here, because there aren’t, but the representation goes straight to Roger Ebert’s statement that cinema is an empathy machine. A kind of 'Eighth Grade' where consolation is hard to come by. It’s the kind of social minefield that will lead to adult contexts such as ‘The Assistant’.

 

James Lattimer* feels that the naturalism and the story are not fully reconciled – the contrivances of aesthetic and narrative – and attributes this to being a debut feature. But most doubts are likely to be overwhelmed by the visceral reaction the film provokes. It’s a little heartbreaker which portrays the kind of difficulties of socialising that any sensitive person will recognise.    

 

·       * James Lattimer ‘Playground’ review, ‘Sight & Sound’ May 2022. Vol. 32 issue 4, pg 78

Grimmfest Day 3: "HP Lovecraft's The Deep Ones", "The Unhealer", "The Ideal Host"

HP LOVECRAFT’S THE DEEP ONES

• DIRECTOR- Chad Ferrin
• SCREENWRITER- Chad Ferrin
• 2020, USA

· Taken from Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos featuring The Deep Ones, Chads Ferrin’s film is bright and breezy but surprise-free. Of course, having Lovecraft’s name up there will pull ‘em in, and of course there is some tentacle action. It does have a defiantly retro man-in-a-monster-suit that might make some laugh, but I found it more endearing than any CGI effort. Otherwise, a sunny coastal setting, a just-less-than-serious feel and a decent cast make for an enjoyable watch that doesn’t outstay it’ welcome, even if it’s unlikely to leave a real dent.

 

THE UNHEALER

• Director - Martin Guigui
• Screenwriters - Kevin E. Moore & J. Shawn Harris
• USA, 2020

Another bullied kid gets supernatural powers to exact revenge on his relentless tormentors when they go too far. Of course this sub-genre this plays on unfairness, but 'The Unhealer' does so more than just revenge. This is built-in even more obviously when his power is that where they hurt him, they suffer the effects; meaning the extent of the revenge depends upon their brutality to him. But victims can’t catch a break, however cruel the bullies are, supernaturally empowered or not. That’s the bitterest horror and the meanest aftertaste.

Elijah Nelson makes a sympathetic lead in Kelly, the script making consistent use of his eating disorder throughout. And of course, Lance Henrickson makes a mark in his cameo. Moore and Harris’ screenplay is more concerned with the human interest than showcasing the kills, with sadness and unfairness dominating the proceedings. In this way, ‘The Unhealer’ distinguishes itself and lingers more than most.

 

AN IDEAL HOST

• DIRECTOR - Robert Woods
• SCREENWRITER - Tyler Jacob Jones
• 2020, Australia

Usually at FrightFest there’s an Antipodean crowd-pleasing genre-comedy that really stands out: ‘Deathgasm’. ‘One Hundred Acres’, Two Heads Creek’, ‘Mega Time Squad’, ‘Turbo Kid’. This is my first time at Grimmfest, and the trend continues with ‘An Ideal Host’, showing again that Australian genre-comedy is just a cut above (or at least, those that we see).

A somewhat precious couple are planning to the minute a dinner party with old friends to stage a marriage proposal, but an old, uninvited and unwanted friend also gate-crashes to upset proceedings. But she’s not the only gate-crasher…

The brevity of the credits reveal how low-budget this is: one location, few cast, director Robert Woods also co-produces, edits, is the cinematographer, etc. But Tyler Jacob Jones’ script and the ensemble cast – mostly from a comedy group Woods is part of, it seems – are consistently lively and funny without over-egging the pudding that any obvious limitations don’t come to mind. (Regarding over-egging: one of my favourite gags is when the film interrupts a cliché montage of the protagonist dressing up to kick-ass with “Enough of that!”).

Like ‘The Special’, there’s a sense that anything might be on the table until it we get some grounding, so there’s some mystery as well as the humour to spike the attention. It even throws in some proper gore. And the effects were all practical too with inventiveness coming thick and fast (the windshield-wipers-as-weapon also a favourite).

 A delight.

I Was Born, but...

 大人の見る絵本　生れてはみたけれど Otona no miru ehon -
Umarete wa mita keredo "An Adult's Picture Book View — I Was Born, But...”

Yasujirō Ozu, 1932, b/w, Japan

One of the great things about Ozu is that he proves the failing of much cinematic and soap opera drama in that their tendency is to always, always fall into melodrama. The quietness of Ozu’s dramas may look as if nothing much is happening, but a relatively still surface does not mean it is untroubled beneath. Hierarchy and manners and social mores barely seem to keep frustrations and anxieties and unfairness at bay, but time and again Ozu’s characters rely upon those traditions to hold things together and to bare compromise.    

Ozu’s silent masterpiece “I Was Born, But....” starts off as a kind of Japanese “Our Gang” frolic but ultimately shifts into something far more resonant and troubling. It is troubling in its outlining out of the hierarchies of society that allow for bullying, humiliation and the compromise of character. Even in the more slapstick and amusing first half, this is already being sketched out in the tale of two young brothers dealing with bullies when they move to a new town. Although not exactly the timid sort, the brothers avoid school to avoid the bullies until they employ the services of a bigger bully – the local delivery boy – and mercilessly move into the role of gang leaders. It’s all about power games. 

The coming-of-age story takes a darker turn when the brothers attend a home-movie screening in which their father – a mild and fair man – is seen goofing around, seemingly to gain favour of his boss. The boys are humiliated and furious and confront their father with accusations of being a loser and unworthy. If you would ever think a verbal confrontation to lack power when conveyed by inter-titles, “I Was Born, but...” is probably the film to prove you wrong, for so fluid and engrossing is Ozu’s set-up and flow that the seriousness of the argument and the clash of generations is indeed distressing. Father turns to sake and the boys put on a hunger-strike. There is no harmonious ending here, not even a true acknowledged truce, just recognition of human weakness that lasts a lifetime and shapes character. And life goes on.

Angus

Patrick Read Johnson, 1995        - USA/UK/Germany 

screenplay: Jill Gordon ~ from a short story by Chris Crutcher

“Fat kid” Angus’ (Charlie Albert) ambitions in life veer between talking to Melissa, to stop being picked on and to go to Jefferson. His only friends in this are his truck-driving mum, his ever-dozing grandfather who is over seventy and just getting married, and his geeky pal Troy. Luckily, coming-of-age conventions will help out and he’ll get his moment.

          ‘Angus’ is conventionally and agreeably on the side of the big kid, and it’s funny and winning enough and not quite as smug as something offered by John Hughes, but it’s firmly embedded in tropes and predictability. You’re unlikely to miss its message of “freaks” being absorbed into the “normal” – his suit is plum and everyone else is in blue: wow! the same colours as his science experiment!* – but if you do somehow miss it, even though it’s been hammered home many times, Angus will speechify it at the prom showdown. For the most part, the agenda reaches the tenor of one of the tossed-off faux-poignant slogans projected on Troy’s bedroom wall: “Love stinks / Reality Bites”. It’s set at the same level of insight and symbolism as a TV show for tweens… and it’s true I probably bought into liked it more when I was younger. It’s one of those American Teen movies designed to be a reassurance and outcry against the realities of an outsider’s existence.

Each character is defined by how they don’t quite conform, as if they’re wearing allocated badges. Angus’s mum is a truck-driving, arm-wrestling female, challenging gender stereotypes but sadly not using Kathy Bates enough. There is Grandpa Ivan (George C Scott), dozing off at strategic moments, playing chess in the park, but at 72 (oh, 73) about to get married to a women thirty years his junior, challenging ageism. And even Angus himself is not your average nerdy, dejected fat kid, for he makes his worth at football (the point being that others overlook his contribution to the game) and just wants to get along and can stand up for himself. In fact, one of the more successful subversions of stereotypes has Angus frequently breaking the nose of jock bully Rick from the age of five; the unspoken gag/point is that here’s a bully we see continually getting hurt and pounded as a result of his own pranks, yet never stops bullying (but don’t worry, because he’ll get his). But there is a moment when Angus’ mum lists some of the humiliations her son has to go through at school which seems to hint at a parallel film, perhaps a less broad and less contrived exploration of his plight more in tune with the minutiae of his experience.

And then there’s Troy (Chris Owen): he’s Angus’s best

friend, small, big-eared and socially inept ~ surely a missed poster-boy for ‘Gummo’ ~ who isn’t challenging anything really, but just sticking by his big pal. It’s probably this friendship and Angus’ relationship with his Grandpa that resonate most: they are fluid, funny and relatable. Much is made of the childishness of both Angus and Grandpa Ivan: they bicker like siblings; they both have big dates with idealised women (females don’t do well here); the two run parallel with grouching Grandpa George C Scott representing lost chances. It is also only late into the film that it is obvious that Troy is far more physically abused than Angus and yet seems to be intent only in aiding and abetting Angus’s goals in life, thereby revealing Angus in a more self-pitying light. But the film only briefly touches on this foible. Again, the film misses a chance to delve deeper into character and instead goes for tired chess analogies instead. Even so, the film holds its own with the endearing performance of Charlie Talbert as Angus ~ reputedly found in a Wendy bar queue.

And what would a coming-of-age film without a great soundtrack of the times? Personal highlights are opening credits with a marching band playing along to Love Spit Love’s ‘Am I Wrong?’, starting things on a high, and slow-dancing to Mazzy Star’s ‘Fade into You’.

     

• And much is made of the embarrassment this plum suit, but we see him a black suit for the wedding, so…?