The Velvet Café

A few days ago I hit a new record in film watching. I sat through what probably was the worst film I’ve seen in my entire life.

I’ve never walked out from a film because I didn’t like it and it didn’t happen this time either, but then it was only 12 minutes long. A few minutes more and I’d fled out screaming and tearing my hair.

Now I just sat there, silent, staring at the screen, trying to accept that what I watched on the screen this wasn’t the result of a malfunctioning projector; it was the actual film. It was supposed to be like that.

A broken TV
The film in question was #23,2, Book of Mirrors, a shortfilm from Netherlands from 2002. I would be surprised if you’d heard of it; it’s not even listed in IMDb.

In the program of the shortfilm festival where it was shown,  it was presented as “an endless flow of colours, patterns and shapes created by an interplay of lightwaves directly onto the emulsion. The pictures are accompanied by music inspired by Hitchcock’s main composer Bernard Herrmann”.

Well, inspired or not, I find the mentioning of Hitchcock’s name rather ridiculous, leading the thoughts in completely the wrong direction.

A fair description would be “staring into a broken TV back in the 70s, accompanied by some seriously terrible atonal music.”

I think it says a lot about the festival audience that they sat so patiently through this. Not everyone was focused on the film, and who can blame them? They took naps, looked at their watches or took a glance at the rest of the room, watching the reactions from everyone else. But there was no booing.

However, as soon as it was over, you could hear the first hesitating giggle, and soon it spread in the room (while we also clapped our hands just a little, because you’re supposed to do that after every film at the short film festival and that rule can’t be broken, even for the most terrible film.)

We laughed – not a hard, scornful laughter, but a soft, gentle and cleansing one, out of the relief that it finally was over. It was as a shared confession of how stupid we had felt. This film may have some artistic value, but it was far, far above the head of all of us and we laughed at our own cluelessness.

What is a film?

The question that lingers with me after watching this is: what exactly constitutes a “film”?

What do we put into the word? Is it anything that depictures some kind of movement, using the technique where you show several pictures quickly after each other in a row? It’s the same question as the more general discussion about what deserves to be regarded as “art” and I’m afraid that I don’t have any good answer. I don’t think abstract art deserves to be dismissed as “something an ape could do” but on the other hand I can’t say that I understand or enjoy it particularly much.

I still don’t know what #23,2, Book of Mirrors was supposed to convey. Did it want to provoke laughter or thoughts about the nature of movies? Probably not. But in the end, it did give me both – and besides also a topic for a blog post. So in the end perhaps it wasn’t so bad as I first thought. Considering I spent 12 minutes on it, I got a lot of return on my investment.

And the next time someone complains about Malick being too obscure and poetic or Sophia Coppola’s movies being too slow, I’ll just smile, thinking to myself: “There are worse, my friend. Far worse. You ain’t seen nothing yet”.

Film can be so many different things. The variety never ceases to amaze me, and it’s particularly notable at a short film festival when you’re seeing so many after each other.

I’ll finish this post on a positive note sharing a two minute gem they treated us within the same festival theme, “Future”. It’s called Desserts, and is starring one of my favorite actors, Ewan McGregor. This is the opposite of staring at a broken TV.

Enjoy!

It’s been a crazy week in regards of film watching. So far I’ve seen 29 and before the week is over I expect to have made it a double.

Does it sound a lot? Well it is. But each one didn’t last very long – approximately 10 minutes on an average.

For the first time in my life I’m attending Uppsala International Short Film Festival.

This is the 30^th edition since the start, so you could say it was about time I took the 10 minute ride on my bicycle downtown to check it out. And I’m having a blast!

One moment I’m in a misty swamp in Finland where berry pickers from Thailand clash with the locals. The next moment I get to see a pen strapped to an apple tree doing a random painting at a paper as the branch moves in the wind and I have no freaking idea of what it’s supposed to mean. But I don’t get to brood about that for long, because something else has already captured my attention.

What a rollercoaster it’s been so far!

Not every film is good. As a matter of fact some are pretty awful. I’m not prone to use the word pretentious, but I don’t know what else to call some of the crap I’ve seen. I broke a new record yesterday night with a ten minute movie which probably was the worst I’ve ever watched on a screen. I won’t go into details about it since it probably deserves a special post.

But it doesn’t matter! Not the slightest! Because once you realize that the film you’re watching isn’t for you,  you can relax.  The night isn’t ruined. You haven’t wasted money on a full-priced ticket for a 2,5 hour movie in extra expensive 3D.  You know that it’s only a matter of minutes before the film is over and you’ll get to tear off the cover from the next present.

Attending a shor tfilm festival is like celebrating Christmas with the difference that it lasts an entire week, you don’t have to cook and it won’t ruin you.

Prejudiced and lazy
I would never have imagined I’d be so enchanted by this format. As a matter of fact I’ve always kept myself at a distance from short films. One reason is that I used to have prejudices. Short films sound a bit second class, don’t they? It’s something newbies and half of half amateurs can comfort themselves with because they can’t finance any bigger.

However the main reason why I’ve stayed away from it is pure laziness. The return on investment is too low, just as it is with short stories that I thought I couldn’t be bothered. You see, I’m so incredibly slow at getting “into it”. It takes effort to get to know the character and the plot, to understand what the story is about. Every film, regardless of length, every written story, starts uphill. Once I’ve climbed it I think I deserve to enjoy the view for a while, getting a free ride through the novel or feature movie. If you’re watching a short film you know that there won’t be any free leisure time. As soon as you’ve reached the top, it’s over.

But all of that is history now. I’m hooked, not to say addicted. There’s so much to love about those midget films:

• The diversity.
• The creativity that comes with a low budget.
• The small scale which forces the film makers to concentrate on the essentials. It’s like an aged malt whisky compared to the diluted brewerages we usually get in mainstream 2 hour movies. You only need a few drops of it to feel satisfied. Strong and delisious.

And look at all this talent! Who knows what gems that are hiding among all the 300 short films that are shown this week? Perhaps there is a future world famous film maker who is taking his or her first steps towards a long and shiny career at this very festival? Perhaps he or she is sitting in the theatre as I’m watching their film? You never know.  After all there are a bunch of them attending the festival, so I make sure to join in the applauses that follow after every film in the short break. Just in case. I don’t want them to think that I don’t appreciate their work. Even when it sucks.

My favourites so far
Writing proper reviews about 29 films, let alone 60 is almost undoable. But I can’t refrain from giving a few shout-outs to my favourites so far:

The External World (David OReilly, GE, 2010) This is an animated film made by a young Irish animator based in Germany. It’s weird, funny and very stylish. Not safe for children since it contains a lot of violence and some kinky sex.

This one is legally available for free , but donations are welcome.

The Last Norwegian Troll (Pjotr Sapegin, NO, 2010) If you’re as much into trolls as I am after watching Trollhunter, this is a must-see. It’s an extended animated version of the fairy tale “The three goats Gruff”, which illustrates the current state of the troll population in Norway. An extra bonus is that one of my favourite actors, Max von Sydow, appears as the narrator.

Las Palmas (Johannes Nyholm, SWE, 2011) You might have seen the trailer for this shortfilm. “Baby trashes bar in Las Palmas” has 12 million downloads so far and I’m not surprised. It’s cute and funny in a slightly disturbing way. The only human actor in the film is the one year old daughter of the director. That’s a creative way of spending your parental leave! I’m sure there’s someone out there who is upset, wondering if you “can do this to a baby”. I think you can. It looks as if she had a blast.

Baldguy (“Skallamann”, Maria Bock, NO, 2011) Who can resist a cheerful musical number? I certainly can’t. This is an adorable little film with a LGTB friendly love message and a catchy refrain that I’ve been humming since I watched it. It just puts me in a silly, happy mood. As in the case of Las Palmas there’s a trailer for it, which unfortunately looks a bit laggy, at least on my screen. But at least you get a basic idea of what it’s like. I’ve seen it once so far, I’m going to see it a second time tomorrow night as I’m going to a sequence of queer movies. And if I’m lucky I can see it one more time, if it turns out to a prize winner or a favorite of the audience. I wouldn’t mind at all.

Friday night drink
But I’ve been talking too long. It’s time to wrap up this post and prepare for a relaxing Friday night, with or without film watching. Please let me know if you want something to drink. Coffee, tea? Something stronger? That’s fine, but no Las Palmas in my café, OK?

I hope you’ll have a wonderful weekend.

Cheers!

I always thought that midlife crisis was supposed to be temporary condition. Unavoidable, as a teenage girl getting her periods, but at least you wouldn’t have to put up with it for an extended amount of time.

There would be some existential angst, questioning of why life became what it became, if this is how it’s supposed to be, and if there’s any meaning even to try to make a change. I might do something desperate – quit my job, take a trip to see a Tibetan guru or find myself a lover. If I was a really bad case I might see a shrink. That’s what they do in Woody Allen’s movies. (Not that it seems to help very much.)

It wouldn’t be long-lasting, a year at its most. Then I’d be good as fit again, ready to go on with my life.

But either I was wrong about the character of a proper midlife crisis, or I’m in the extreme end of the normality curve of how long it lasts; fact is that it feels as if I’ve been chronically stuck in the middle-aged broodings for a number of years now, and I don’t yet see how it would end anytime soon.

Perhaps I just haven’t found the right treatment yet, the activity that would bring me back not only a spark, but also a sense of direction in life.

Synchronized swimming
I think that’s why I couldn’t help feeling a little bit envious as I watched the documentary Men Who Swim.

This film is the story about something rare, namely a Swedish team of men in their 40s who as adults have formed an all-male team to do synchronized swimming. Yes, you read me right, it’s *that* kind of synchronized swimming. Ballet in the basin. Floating and holding hands, forming flowers in the water, making elegant splashes with your feet, accompanied by music.

That’s exactly the thing this team is doing, and they’re doing it in a pretty serious manner. Not in a “hahaha, look at those crazy men who do “women’s stuff, how silly – are they gay?” manner. Admittedly they’re not brilliant at it, at least not initially. They’re rather clumsy, disorganized and have bodies that look as old as they are, which off course adds a touch humor, when they display some healthy self distance. But at the same time they’re really making an effort and they’re not a bit ashamed about what they’re doing.

As we watch the everyday conflicts within the team, the alpha males arguing in the locker room, I figure it’s not that different from what it’s like to be in any football team. The film doesn’t dwell much on the issue of their masculinity, if synchronized swimming could be considered an unmanly thing. And that’s what so refreshing about it. It’s as if they’re reclaiming their liberty to do whatever they want, free from the burdens of expectations that normally drag us down.  As weightless and free as in the water.

You could say that the film is about how the team prepares for the world championships for all-male teams of synchronized swimming in 2009. But even more it’s about a group of men who each one in their own way are going through a midlife crisis, and how the swimming helps them to handle it. It’s also a pretty much spot-on portray of Sweden of today, as seen through the eyes of a Welshman, who isn’t just the movie maker, but also one of the team members.

Dry swim performance
I won’t reveal how it went for the gents in the world championship. But I can say as much as that the team is still going strong. I watched them earlier this autumn as they did a dry swim performance outdoors at a cultural festival in Stockholm. You can see it for yourself here.

I don’t know if they’re still fueled by their midlife crisis or if they’re out on the other side now. But I know that my own felt more manageable as I watched how they tackled theirs.

Men Who Swim (Orig title: Män som simmar, Dylan Williams, SWE, 2010) My rating: 4/5

I don’t usually do a lot of memes. It gets repetitive to read the same thing on dozens of blogs and it feels a bit “meh”.

However recently there was one at top 10 films that looked so fun that I just couldn’t resist participating.

The blogathon is called Houdini’s Magic Ticket. Inspired by the movie Last Action Hero, the idea is that you have a magic ticket that can transport you into any film you like.

Got the idea? Let’s see where the journey will take the lady of the café. Bring on the questions!

What character would I most like to be sat next to on a plane?
Sherlock Holmes. I’m sure he’d have a great number of stories from his life to share; he could give me an impressive performance telling me details about the lives of the other passengers based on ridiculously small details no one else would notice. And besides – if any problem would occur, such as malevolent passengers, people getting ill or machinery malfunctioning, I’m sure he’d find up a solution thanks to his superior mind.

What character would I most want to enjoy a passionate romance with?
I think that would be Mr Darcy (preferably as played by Colin Firth). He’s sincere, honest, intelligent, kind hearted and deep down passionate, despite his stiff British appearance. Besides he’s filthy rich. What more could you wish for?

If I were a cop who would I want as my partner?
Captain Jean-Luc Picard. He can be a bit grumpy at times, but I’m sure we’d get along. He’d know what to do. Always. And in case of doubt we could always consult the Starfleet code of ethics.

What animated feature would I love to walk around in?
I’ve seen excellent choices from other bloggers such as Finding Nemo, Avatar and Spirited Away. But wanting to find something of my own I’ll go for The Lion King.  I’ve been to Africa once, and the trip included a safari in Serengeti. It’s a journey I’ll never forget and I’ll always want to go back. Back to where we came from.

What adventure based on Earth would I most like to go on?
In a shrinking world I can’t help longing back to the days when travelling were slower and more adventurous. It was a world where you didn’t get jet lag because you travelled so slowly that there was time to adjust to the different time zones. It was a world when you actually could see something of the world as you crossed it – not just the clouds covering it. Hence my choice is:  Around the World in 80 Days.

What adventure based in an otherworldly, fantasy-based location would I most like to go on?
My first thought was The Lord of the Rings, but at a second thought: would I really, really like to be a part of that adventure? Killing orcs on a battle field? I don’t think that’s quite my thing to be honest.

Being a science fiction fan at heart, a space adventure would appear to be a natural choice. But for this one I’ll pick a different kind of space, namely Innerspace. Ever since I was a child I’ve been intrigued by the idea of travelling inside a body.

What movie gadget would I love to try out (or steal)?
That’s an easy one! A holodeck, of course!

I’m basically not a huge fan of it as a part of the Star Trek universe. As a matter of fact it’s pretty awful. When you see the holodeck appearing in the beginning of an episode you face two alternatives. In best case it’s just a pretty boring small introduction scene, which soon will be over. And once the signature tunes out the action in the real world will take over. You’re safe. In worst case you’re about to watch one of those horrible episodes that never leaves the holodeck, taking place in some point in the past of Earth. It’s a stinker and it’s low budget and every season has one or two of them.

But for my personal use I’d love to have access to one. It would grant any possible wish. I could meet any person of my choice – dead, alive or imagined. I could go to every place in the universe and I could visit any time there ever was. The only downside is that it has a tendency of malfunctioning at worst possible moment. But that wouldn’t happen to me of course!

What film’s plot would I alter and how would I do it?
OK, most of this meme is very lighthearted. And a lighthearted answer would be that I think Anthony Andrews should marry Olivia Hussey in Ivanhoe rather than that blonde girl.

But this is where I’ll go serious in my reply, and I hope you can take it. I’ll soon get back to silliness, OK? But for this one – I wish with all my heart that I could wave my magical wand and change the ending of United 93. I wish the plane could land safely and that no one died. Not in the movie, nor in the real world. I wish the bodies never fell from WTC. I wish the towers still appeared in every new movie from New York. I wish that 9/11 never happened and the world was like it used to be

What one film would I most want to be transported into, simply to be a part of that world?
The Lord of the Rings is on my mind, as always. The Shire before or after the war seems like a nice place to be. There’s a reason why I reread the series every three years. I feel at home there. Harry Potter would obviously be a choice too, considering my unfulfilled desire to go to a boarding school. However: since I’m writing this a gloomy day in the end of October I think I’ll go for something a little different and probably a little bit unexpected.

You see: I need a vacation. I crave for sun, blue water, beautiful, simple white houses, delicious food and a glass of ouzo as the sun goes down over the Mediterranean. A life void of worries, filled with love, friendship, laughter and music.

So my final ticket would go to the island of Mamma Mia!

Other answers
And that’s it, folks! If you want see answers from other blogs, go to the original post at Top 10 Films, where there’s a list over all participants.

Why is it that a classical spaghetti western gets so much better if you move it to a new environment?

Swap the desert for a desolate Icelandic landscape, trade the guns for casting knives and let the tough guys ride ponies instead of traditional horses and suddenly it feels fresh, cool and interesting to watch. Don’t ask me why. Vikings are simply more badass than cowboys.

When the Raven Flies became hugely popular in Sweden when it was launched in 1984. Curiously enough it wasn’t as well received on Iceland as far as I understand it from internet resources. But that’s life, isn’t it? Your own people are always the ones who are hardest to convince.

Recently I’ve found myself mentioning this movie a lot to people, encouraging them to watch it for one reason or another. But since it’s been so many years since I watched it I started to worry a bit. My recollections weren’t all that clear anymore. What if I was wrong to recommend it? Would this movie still hold up after all those years? I decided to make a revisit to make sure I knew what I was talking about.

I needn’t have worried though. It was pretty much the same as I remembered it. People die all the time. Revenge needs to be claimed. The camera alters between close-ups and panoramas over the barren landscape. Very little is said.

To be honest, it’s not by any means a “perfect” movie, if such a thing exists. The soundtrack is a little bit corny at times and not all actors are splendid, but hey, what can you expect from a nation with a population of about 300 000? There can’t be much of a competition.

It’s not all truly original either. In its core, it’s pretty much the same story as Kurosawa’s Yojimbo and Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars. One hero plays out two families against each other.

But weaknesses and possible lack of originality doesn’t matter to me. There’s so much to love anyway. How often have you heard Icelandic spoken in a film? It made me want to sign for a language course right away! It’s the language of the fairy tales.

The setting is fantastic – a timeless landscape which is perfect for a story taking place far back in time. I came to think of how strange it is that historical Iceland hasn’t been used more than it has in on the movie screen. There should be a lot of unexplored ideas in the sagas that could be the inspiration for some excellent action.

Until we’ll see a new wave of Icelandic historical action movies I’ll comfort myself with the one line that I think is what first comes to mind for anyone who has watched When the Raven Flies:

“Þungur hnífur, “Tungur knifur” (Don’t ask me to explain how to pronounce it.)  “Heavy knife”.

That’s all you need.

When the Raven Flies (a.k.a The Revenge of the Barbarians, orig title Hrafninn flýgur, Hrafn Gunnlaugsson, IS, 1984) My rating: 4/5

Terrence Malick. Have you ever heard of the guy? I hadn’t until a few months ago, as I took my first steps into the world of film blogs and film podcasts. But then on the other hand I heard it that much more.

I’m not sure of how big his fan club is in reality, but the members are certainly devoted, talking about Malick with the same respect and appreciation as others speak about Kubrick, Bergman and Kurosawa. Or actually even more. There is something almost religious about the worshipping, which I can’t recall seeing in connection to any other director.

Fan club or not – I haven’t seen much evidence of it in Sweden. The reviews of The Tree of Life were fairly mixed, scoring an average of 3,7/5 among the major film critics and it only played for a very short time.

Perhaps his reoccurring references to religion are a little bit too much to cope with for a more down-to-earth, predominately agnostic Swedish audience. Or maybe we don’t identify with the life at an American farm, another of his favorite themes. Either way – if you ask people in the street about Terrence Malick, you’ll to wait for long before finding someone who had any idea about who he is.

Going backwards
But in the film fan circles where I dwell, there are a lot of people whose opinions I care about who are fanatical Malick promoters, and for this reason I wanted to give him a proper chance.

As it turned out, I’ve been doing my Malick exploration backwards in time.

My first encounter was his newest movie, The Tree of Life, which might be the strangest, least accessible movie I’ve seen this year. There wasn’t much of a plot to hold on to, and there were some scenes that I yet don’t understand what they were about (various people walking around on a beach, what?). I almost fell asleep a couple of times due to the slow pace. However in the end I actually liked it – mainly thanks to the magnificent cinematography, picturing trees, galaxies and dinosaurs, accompanied by beautiful music and whispered poetry.

My next encounter was The New World, which I liked less than The Tree of Life. While very pretty and a real plot, it felt a little bit like shampoo advertising, with characters that felt a little bit stereotypical.

A normal story
Now I’ve come to my third venture into Malick territory. This time I took a huge step back in time with Days of Heaven from 1978. And as I’m getting back from this expedition, I’m glad to report that I finally have seen a Malick movie that I don’t have a lot of reservations about.

Unlike The Tree of Life, this one had a perfectly normal story. A farm laborer (played by a very young Richard Gere) convinces his girl friend to marry their rich boss, since they expect him to die soon, with the idea that they could get access to his fortune. But unfortunately for them he doesn’t die. Love starts to grow, but so does jealousy.

It’s a simple, but it’s enough to grab my interest, and the characters are at least a little bit complex, which makes me care more about them. There’s a line in the voiceover that especially stuck with me:

“Nobody’s perfect. There was never a perfect person around. You just have half-angel and half-devil in you.”  This isn’t only true; it’s also what I want from a movie to be believable.

This said, as in every other Malick movie I’ve seen, it was the cinematography which stood out most. It’s beautiful, to say the least. Unfortunately I only watched this on a small screen – not even a TV, since my library copy was scratched and only would play in my computer. But also under those circumstances I enjoyed the views of the open landscape bathing in the late summer afternoon sun or the close-ups of grasshoppers invading a field or the sight of a roaring, uncontrollable fire, perfectly illustrating the emotional state of some of the characters. As I googled for a screenshot to illustrate my blog post about this movie I had a hard time to choose which one to pick. There were just too many of them.

Epic and timeless
Epic and timeless, that’s how I’d like to describe Days of Heaven. And yet it’s actually remarkably short. I looked with disbelief at my watch realizing that it wasn’t more than 1 hr 30 minutes. I don’t know how Malick manages to get so much said and done in so little time, without ever making anything feel rushed or too compressed. But I have to admire him for it.

For anyone who is where I was a few months ago – with zero knowledge about Malick, but with a willingness to try – I think Days of Heaven is a much better place to start than The Tree of Life. It is straight forward, well crafted and never intimidating or boring. No whispering. No dreamlike sequences. A solid walk forward along an easily distinguishable timeline.

Personally I still haven’t bought a membership card in Malick’s fanclub. But I appreciate him more after watching Days of Heaven, so much that I’m likely to continue my journey through his works.

Days of Heaven (Terrence Malick, US, 1978)  My rating: 4,5/5

I’m not that much into Hollywood gossip. This isn’t because I’m a person with some kind of superior morale who believes her self to stand above such petty and ugly things. I’m just not very good with names, so most of the time I have no idea of who they’re talking about.

But if I actually wanted to learn about their dirty secrets, it wouldn’t take a big effort.  We’re living in the golden age of gossip – or transparency if you put it nicely. The actor who cheats on his wife, the director with a drug addiction, the producer who prefers kinky sex, Tom Cruise who is a part of a crazy sect – it’s all out in the open.

The question is: does it matter? If I have certain information about a producer, director, screenwriter or actor, will it affect how my view on their work? Does it take away a bit of the enjoyment from watching a movie if I know that someone in the production has been accused of sexual abuse of children?

Is it possible to have one opinion about the person and a completely different opinion about the result of their creative process? Can you completely avoid getting influenced from what you know?

Allen and Polanski
I wish I could say straight away that I always judge a work only on its own merits and that my integrity is impeccable, but a more honest response would probably be: it depends.

Let’s look at a couple of cases. First we have Woody Allen. I’ve watched and loved his movies for as far as I can remember. In the early 90s Allen and Mia Farrow broke up after a 12 year long relationship. The reason was that he had gotten into a relationship with his partners adoptive daughter. This wasn’t against the law; he wasn’t legally the father, and the she was old enough to decide for herself. However – the whole business felt very icky to me, with its incestuous connotations. It still does and it affects my view on the person Woody Allen. But it doesn’t change my love for his movies. I still watch every one that comes out. I enjoy them for what they are and I don’t think at all about his private life issues.

A second example is Roman Polanski. He’s been worse than icky. He committed a crime as he took sexual advantage or even raped a 13 year old girl. It’s a long time ago and I won’t judge whether he has made up for it or not during all those years he’s been on the run. Fact remains that the very thought of someone raping a 13 year old girl is sickening to me. But it won’t change my appreciation of Rosemary’s Baby.

A more recent occurrence was Lars von Trier’s infamous press conference in Cannes, where the director made a fool of himself claiming that he was a nazist. This did a) not convince me that this actually was the case b) not change the way I thought of Melancholia (I liked it).

Making things complicated
The thing is we are surrounded by products and services that are creations of people. And people do bad things.

Life would become incredibly complicated if I would stop appreciating and using anything that can be connected to someone who once committed a crime. How do I know that the fork I’m eating with wasn’t designed by someone who hit his wife? Should I stop eating a certain brand of marmalade if I learned that the guy who made up the recipe was a fascist? Even the most repulsive person you may think of can somewhere in the midst of all his awfulness have made a contribution to the world in the form of a movie, a car design or a poem. I can’t see why it would make the world into a better place rejecting this little piece of goodness.

But everyone doesn’t agree with me. The most mind boggling example I’ve seen of this was the Swedish Save the Children organization, which a couple of years ago were pointed out that the font in their company profile, Gill Sans, was created by a paedophile. The media stirrup this caused made them instantly declare that they would change the font as soon as possible. And this is just craziness if you ask me. Changing your font is a big deal and very expensive. That money could have been used better. And where does it lead them? Will they check out that no paedophile was involved in the making of the furniture at their office as well?

The deal breaker
But there is a line for me as well. If the movie becomes a part of the crime that the person committed, a child molester making movies that glorify raping of children – or if children have been abused during the recording of the movie, if someone is making a profit thanks to their repulsive actions and views – then I have a problem.

It doesn’t matter to me how technically skilled Leni Riefenstahl was or what a pioneer she may have been especially as a woman in a male world. She was a friend and admirer of he-who-must-not-be-named. Her movies were a part of the nazi propaganda and no amount of claimed “naivety” will change this fact. She celebrated a human ideal that contributed to the disaster, to the unspeakable horrors. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see her movies as separate unities or enjoy them. They remind me too much of unspeakable crimes that were committed – and that still are committed, only in new appearances.

Happily unknowing
I know very little about the lives of the movie makers. And if I finally get to know anything, I’m usually years behind. It was only recently that I heard that Mel Gibson apparently had aired some appalling opinions, which had a bad impact on his image. I probably would have been better off without learning this.

Maybe I’m a coward, but for the future I will stick to my current tactics, not paying all that much attention to all the information that is floating around. In the end – it’s the movies that matter. Nothing else. With a few, rare exceptions.

Contagion is just about to open in my city and I’m planning to watch it. For some reason I’ve always been strangely attracted to movies about pandemics.  I know absolutely nothing about the director Steven Soderbergh as a person and I have  no intention of trying to find out. So if you know any icky details – please save them to yourself.

The weekend is around the corner. If you too have plans for a theatre visit, I hope it will be a good one. And don’t forget to drop by for a cup of something nice and a chat on your way home. This café is always open.

Cheers!