The Freakpit Festival Frenzy continues: Cardiff 2006

Three posts in three days - I'm on a roll!

Next on my festival frenzy was a brief trip to Cardiff for, surprisingly, the Cardiff Film Festival 2006. Or Gwyl Ffilm Caerdydd, if you speak Welsh. But I don't, so to continue writing in Welsh would be both stupid and very difficult. Let's move on.

I'd initially pencilled in the very explicit SHORTBUS as my first film on the Friday night (you knew I'd go and see something like that, didn't you?) but alas my timing wasn't quite as good as it had been at the London festival and I had to scratch that one from my schedule. Instead, I wandered the streets of Cardiff in heavy rain and got shouted at by a homeless person.

My first outing was therefore to a double bill of Kenneth Griffith documentaries. Having died earlier this year, this fascinating Welshman was the subject of a retrospective at this year's Cardiff Film Festival. While many will undoubtedly know him from his acting, he wrote and presented a number of documentaries which were receiving rare (and very welcome) screenings at this festival.

I'd have liked to see his numerous documentaries on the subject of Ireland and its troubles - in particular the controversial Michael Collins film HANG UP YOUR BRIGHTEST COLOURS - but unfortunately was not in town when any of them were screening.

I did, however, get to witness this double bill of Africa-focused documentaries, both of which were outstanding. Camp theatrical performances, insightful writing and an utter refusal to take a neutral stance would seem to be what put Griffith's documentaries into a class of their own and those qualities are in abundance here.

The first of the documentaries wears its heart on its sleeve from the off - with a title like A TOUCH OF CHURCHILL, A TOUCH OF HITLER, you can be assured that the subject of the film, Cecil Rhodes (after whom Rhodesia was named), was not going to be getting off lightly. And so it was, in a wonderfully stirring polemic against Rhodes and colonialism. Griffith does not avoid acknowledging admirable traits in Rhodes but for the most part is interested only in driving home what a villain he was.

The second part of this double bill was the equally eye-grabbing title BLACK AS HELL, THICK AS GRASS, another tirade against Britain's colonial activities in Africa (focussing on the incident famously made into film in the Michael Caine movie ZULU).

It's a joy to behold such a passionate, honest and stirring approach to documentaries and while sometimes Griffith's performance goes so far over the top he almost topples off his soapbox the films are like nothing you'll see on the History Channel. Someone please get this guy's documentaries out on DVD now. Please.

TRUE TRUE LIE is a British psychological horror (filmed in Eastern Europe and made to look American) that follows a girl freshly released from an asylum and her two friends as a secret from the past threatens to catch up with them. After all, the reason for the incarceration was the belief that three of them had murdered someone as children, but they're assured it's all a figment of the imagination... or is it?

To be honest, I was struggling to care by the end of it. For such an apparently tight schedule and meager budget, the director has turned in a reasonably polished flick but it offers absolutely nothing new to the genre at all. If this one even makes it to a widespread theatrical release I would expect it to disappear within a week.

AMNESIA: THE JAMES BRIGHTON ENIGMA is a low-budget Canadian film alledgedly based on a true story (though how much I'm not sure) and tells of a young man who wakes up in a car park one morning completely naked, remembering absolutely nothing about himself except that he believes he's gay.

The shot-on-video, intimate documentary-style camera work takes a bit of warming to and once the origin of James's trauma is revealed, the film feels like there's nowhere left to go. Yet it ponders on towards a damp squib of a conclusion that doesn't offer a tidy resolution but at least hints at an ending of sorts. Shame, as there were some interesting scenes in the middle.

KARDIA is a rather surreal story of a woman scientist who does research into cardiovascular matters but with a rather more human than scientific approach - the whole crux of the film would seem to be the question of whether someone can actually have died of a broken heart rather than a simple heart attack.

The film has interesting ideas and the flashbacks to the scientists youth (telling of her relationship with her adopted dad) do a good job of intertwining them with some tender moments that all build up to a couple of twists at the end - one of which is quite predictable, but it leads to another one that isn't quite so expected.

It's a shame that a shallow, lacklustre secondary plot about two lab assistants' relationship was forced into the (already rather short) running time, as it isn't developed nearly enough and ends up feeling like its been forced into the script in order to provide some extra weight to the film's theories about the heart.

That's unfortunate, because the film could stand up well without it - the final revelations are shattering and leave you truly haunted by the ending, which is, well, heartbreaking. And I guess that was the point.

Finally, WIL is an Australian film about a young man who is offered a promotion and has a minute to think about it. In that minute, the titular man finds himself going over his entire life, all within the confines of a lift, with characters and situations from his past blending together in a stream-of-conciousness dream life that throws humour and philosophy into the mix without really succeeding at either.

It seems very much like it's trying to achieve the clever weirdness of ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND, but it's just a mess and not nearly as funny or clever as it wants to be. It has its moments for sure, but not enough to merit a recommendation from me I'm afraid.

Admid all this, I also managed one little late-night trip to an entirely non festival related screening, SAW III to be precise. It was much the same as the first two but not quite as good. As for the stories of people fainting during the film... having watched it, I'm more convinced than ever that it was a PR stunt. You'll see a lot worse.

Next on my list of festivals to write up... Brighton!