OUTTA HERE
Things are really gearing up here on the Croisette. Say hello to Pleasure Factory [pictured above] from Ekachai Uekrongtham, which just screened in the Un Certain Regard section. A Thai film from Singapore, in Mandarin with English subtitles, its language, to judge by the promo, is universal. The packaging — winner of the packaging prize from Screen International – features a pink box containing photos of Singapore’s pleasure givers from the Red Light district, and includes a pink-wrapped condom. The pamphlet offers another condom, this one armed for action, under the Fortissimo Films logo. “Here, I’m too old for this,” says a colleague, handing off the pink box. “Anyway, the condom’s too small for me.” There follows some ribaldry on the stallion’s dimensions in animal-lover doc, Zoo. Uh, yeah, guess the pressure is starting to tell …
In other exciting news, Edge of Heaven from Fatih Akin (Berlinale winner Gegen die Wand)
racked up healthy applause at the 8:30 A.M. Press screening. Wonderful title, part Rilke, part Douglas Sirk. Set in Hamburg, Bremen, and Istanbul, the film is a swallowed-its-tail affair that opens and closes with the same scene, a circular, and peculiarly satisfying device. Always engrossing,“Heaven” follows the interwebbed lives of 6 German and Turkish-German characters, who eventually find bittersweet versions — more bitter than sweet — of their heart’s desire. The theme of fathers/sons and mothers/daughters is inflected with issues of cultural identity, to make a package both emotionally resonant and topical. It’s tipped to join the race for the Palme (and will it help or hurt that Turkish writer and Nobelist Orhan Pamuk is on the jury?)
Unfortunately I missed The Diving Bell and the Butterfly from Julian Schnabel, also collecting much praise (“This year’s Barbarian Invasions”). I missed “Diving” because I had to wash my hair. I know this admission will seriously undermine my credibility as a critic, but the hair was about to leave for a screening without me.
Meanwhile, Cannes is bracing for tomorrow’s Oceans 13. Which puts me in mind of Robert Altman‘s immortal words when last on the Croisette: “Who do I have to f—k to get out of here?”
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