I’m glad I gave Pereda another shot after Greatest Hits. This starts out rough, but leads to some likeably awkward scenes when Luisa’s new man Paco is failing to make an impression on her dad. Luisa’s brother Gabino is visiting at the same time (played by Gabino, who plays “Gabino” in all of Pereda’s films). Paco is an actor with a nonspeaking role on a season of Narcos, and the others want to see him perform, so he creates a larger speaking role for an impromptu acting showcase at a bar. The master-shot real-time thing, playing with performance and identity, all pretty appealing. But just like Greatest Hits replaced Gabino’s father halfway through (one of the fathers is playing his father again here), this movie shifts modes, becoming a story created by Luisa about strangers meeting at a hotel, all the actors from the first half as different people. It all feels minor but I was smiling the whole time.
Tag: Nicolas Pereda
Greatest Hits (2012, Nicolás Pereda)
Naturalistic slowcore – I think it’s another hybrid-doc film, and it was a bad move for my attention span to play this right after Orleans and the Sarah Morris shorts. On the other hand I’ve been meaning to watch anything by Pereda since the 50 Under 50 list almost five years ago, so I’m glad I finally did.
Gabino seems to be rehearsing a breakup poem composed of song titles – ah, no he’s selling mp3 discs of romantic songs, and for some some never-explained reason he thinks he needs to memorize the titles of all included songs. Gabino lives with his mom, has a couple siblings, and his dad is trying to get them involved in a pyramid sales scheme with his friend Gonzo. Gradually we figure out that the dad abandoned the family many years ago and has just returned… Gabino is tentatively spending time with him but mom is trying to throw him out. I lost the thread of things towards the end, when the dad returns as a different actor.
Dad #1 would like to sell you a CD:
Enter Dad #2:
Oddball film techniques: sometimes the action freezes, people standing still without speaking for minutes while some harpsichord-sounding music plays, recalling My Son My Son, What Have Ye Done. At least once we simply repeat a scene, but it plays out differently. A few durational “see how long any audience will put up with this” shots. Then mid-movie, someone behind the camera starts talking to an actor, asking about his past. Role-playing: in my favorite scene, Gabino pretends to be his father, making in-character excuses and pleas while mom rehearses telling him to leave. By the end I didn’t know what’s real, and was convinced that Gabino really sells CDs on the subway, but no, he’s an actor who has been in 40 other movies. He also plays “Gabino” in all the other Pereda movies.
Pereda in Cinema Scope:
Greatest Hits is a film where the same scene happens more than once in the film, and some of the scenes that repeat themselves were separate takes. I enjoy the repetition, but when I see that a take is a bit different than the first one, only I can enjoy this difference. In this film I tried to give the audience the pleasure I would get from noticing the differences from one take to another.
…
At times I sort of interview them, Gabino and his real father, and I ask them real things about their real lives. When the film starts over, in the second half, that’s when it becomes a lot more obvious, because there’s one new actor who’s playing a character that we saw before, but the new actor — my uncle actually — is more of a documentary subject. He doesn’t know when we’re filming him, so he’s just talking away. I told him what the movie was about, but I didn’t tell him at that point that he had to act, I just said we’re making a movie and this is your character.
Venezia 70 Future Reloaded (2013), part 3
The Venice Film Festival posted 70-ish short films online to commemorate their 70th anniversary. I watched them gradually over the past year. Already rounded up my favorites and least favorites – this is the rest.
Krzysztof Zanussi
Kids haul a film can containing Zanussi’s Venice prize-winning A Year of the Quiet Sun from a trash can.
Sono Sion
“Cinema’s Future is My Future” title cards. An excited man films things in a neon room. A crowd chants “seventy!”
Antonio Capuano
Green-haired teen zombies carry video cubes on subway station escalators.
Tariq Teguia
“Still, tomorrow’s cinema will be saying: someone is here.”
He has a Film Socialisme poster. Show-off.
James Franco – The Future of Cinema
FF Coppola says he hopes filmmaking professionalism will be destroyed and regular people will be able to make them. Then some vandals trash a house and it looks like we’re watching the framing story of V/H/S. Then all goes berzerk, and Franco appears, laughing amidst the chaos.
Pablo Larraín
Camera perched atop one of those sail-surfboards looking down, piano playing a riff on “My Blue Heaven”.
Nicolás Pereda
Single shot of couple in bed playing on their phones, unseriously discussing getting married.
Wang Bing
A guy works the land, comes home to his horrible, fly-infested cave.
Kim Ki-duk – My Mother
Kim films his own mother going to the store (slowly and painfully), buying cabbage and prepping dinner for his visit.
Edgar Reitz
Franz Kafka is moved by a film, walks outside into the present-day world of everpresent video screens and advertising. Searching for the source of his quote (“Went to the movies. Wept.”) led to an interesting-looking book called Kafka Goes to the Movies.
Pablo Trapero – Cinema Is All Around
iPhone videos of tourists taking photos at a waterfall while Doris Day sings Que Sera Sera.
Jia Zhang-ke
People watch old movies on new screens.
Unusually commercial-looking style for Jia.
João Pedro Rodrigues – Allegoria Della Prudenza
Grave sites (there are multiple) for Kenji Mizoguchi in the whispering wind. Cameo appearance by the grave of Portuguese director Paulo Rocha.
Peter Ho-Sun Chan – The Future Was In Their Eyes
Photo montage of the eyes of many dead filmmakers.
Isabel Coixet
A square little film sketch with bouncy music.
Haile Gerima
He’s in an edit suite reviewing Harvest: 3000 Years. “I am incarcerated in the historical circumstances of Africa. Our cinema is a hostaged cinema.”
Atom Egoyan – Butterfly
He lets us see video of an Anton Corbijn gallery exhibit before deleting it from his phone. “Frankly I can’t be bothered to store more useless memories that I’ll never look at again, so I have to make some choices of what to lose.”
Hong Sang-soo – 50:50
Guy smokes with a stranger, tells her that his wife, sitting on a nearby bench, is terribly ill.
Celina Murga
Theater full of kids watch a movie.
Hala Alabdalla
Driving through Syria shooting through a window with a beard-n-sunglasses silhouette stuck on. Then: close-ups of eyeballs.
Pietro Marcello
Silent stock footage and clips of film equipment at work, then a Guy Debord quote.
Jan Cvitkovic – I Was a Child
Nice moving camera while narrator tells of when she first realized that everything is god.
Jazmín López
Camera follows a trail of discarded objects to two identically-dressed girls making out.
Amir Naderi – Don’t Give Up
Aged film of dust storm on a dead sea cut with some present-day film storage room.
Alexey German Jr. – 5000 Days Ahead
Single travelling shot, people on a beach discussing movies of the future, personal experiences using neural transmitters, “like dreams with subtitles.”
Benoît Jacquot
Single take of a girl looking into camera.
John Akomfrah
B/W travel footage rapidly edited, closing with titles about the Boston Marathon bombing.
Shekhar Kapur
Bunch of short fragments using the white balance and focus in nonstandard ways.
Davide Ferrario – Lighthouse
Open-air cinema is playing Buster Keaton, shown with nice helicopter(?) shot.
Ermanno Olmi – La Moviola
So that’s what a moviola looks like. Hands and a sort of stop-motion/time-lapse ghost set it up and start it rolling.
Giuseppe Piccioni
We’re at a party, dude goes to get a drink for the girl in center of shot, and she slowly glides with the camera into the other room, audio from a climactic scene from Double Indemnity in her head, then back again.
Brillante Mendoza – The Camera
A movie is being filmed, shots of people across town already enjoying it on TV, but back on set someone has run off with the camera.
Monte Hellman
Slate, couple at a cafe, he pays and leaves while she silently cries, the traffic noise dialing down, slow pull in, then “cut”.
Teresa Villaverde – Amapola
Poem recital like a horror-movie bible reading, “jackals that the jackals would despise,” blurry TV sets with close-ups of faces upon them.
Guido Lombardi – Sensa Fine
Last shot of a film, the lead actors kiss, then won’t stop kissing.
Shirin Neshat
Scenes from October and Potemkin played with a stop-motion-looking low frame-rate.