Cinema is my passion. But there is another, far greater passion — with more stakes, thrills and even more satisfying character arcs than most films could even dream of. I’m talking, of course, about international football.
I’ve watched basically every single game (even the group stages), taking in classic match-ups (Turkey v Georgia; Austria v Holland, live at Olympiastadion) to the most boring experiences possible (England, Belgium. France). I’ve been unable to find the time to actually sit down and watch much cinema.
But the festival circuit is changing. Most notable is the Berlinale, which has scrapped the Encounters section (despite its popularity with capital C-cinephiles) and introduced Perspectives, dedicated to first-time filmmakers.
As Tricia Tuttle, the new festival lead, states: “We are looking for features representing a genuinely international range of voices which have a bold and fluent cinematic language and offer arresting perspectives and new ways of seeing the world.”
Two concerns. Firstly, due to its massive size Berlinale has never suffered from a deficit of debuts (go look at the over-stuffed Generation section). Having a special strand just for more first-time movies doesn’t sound that exciting compared to the unique and often challenging Encounters section, which, as seen by the applause at the end of Through the Graves the Wind is Blowing (Travis Wilkerson, 2024), was largely loved by attendees.
My other concern is that, given the scrapping of the very similarly named Perspektive Deutsches Kino — which was made to spotlight new German cinema — is that Perspectives will be rather German-heavy and filled with low-energy University projects instead of genuinely bold works. This is particularly odd when the Filmfestival Max Ophüls Preis already exists.
Anyway, in perhaps more exciting news, Journey Into Cinema is off to the Golden Apricot Film Festival in Armenia next week, with daily dispatches from yours truly. In the meantime, here are a couple of reviews from Karlovy Vary.
No One is Watching in the Panopticon
Crystal Globe entry Panopticon (George Sikharulidze, 2024) stages the tumult of Georgia — caught between liberalisation on the one hand (as seen in recent protests) and arch conservatism on the other — through the experience of one man: the morally and sexually confused Sandro (Data Chachua).
Chachua brings tenderness and empathy for his protagonist, caught between a burgeoning sexuality, right-wing tendencies and warped religious teachings, yet he’s let down by a timid screenplay that can’t quite figure out what his character wants and how to express his feelings through cinematic language.
At first, it’s easy to feel sorry for Sandro. His ultra-religious father (Malkhaz Abuladze) is leaving to become a monk while his mother (Maiko Gelovani) lives in New York. Living alone with his grandmother (Ketevan Shervashidze), he is quickly susceptible to negative influences, such as the online right-wing cranks warning against immigration, or the Orthodox church’s beliefs around sex before marriage.
Read the rest over at Journey Into Cinema
Distant Voices, Windless Lives
For the most meticulous filmmakers, the 1:1 ratio offers perfect close-ups, one-point perspectives and a pervasive, claustrophobic atmosphere. Coupled with real film grain and interesting, lived-in faces, including the inked-up rapper FYRE (Ognian Pavlov) as Kaloyan (Koko for short), this Instagram-lite aesthetic makes for arresting, dark visuals that complement Proxima competition entry Windless’ (Pavel G. Vesnakov, 2024) deep dive into contemporary Bulgarian life — stuck between a tragic past and the hollow promises of the future.
But the very same ratio, with its focus on faces and tightly-wound images — glimpses of the crumbling countryside caught through the back of a truck, partially obscured by the fluttering of tarpaulin; the back of our hero’s heavily tattooed head; bodies huddled in doorways, the frame becoming even smaller and smaller — also has its limitations. While every image can be printed and blown up in an art gallery, it narrows the film’s perspective, restraining its ultimate emotional impact.
Read the rest over at Journey Into Cinema