Kino Keeno

"Film is not the art of scholars, but of illiterates…"

Tag: video

LFF 2015: Heart of a Dog

by Ben Diamond

Heart of a Dog (Anderson 2015, 75m)

“This is me, but it’s not me.  It’s my dream body.”  So Heart of a Dog starts, with an animated Laurie Anderson in a dream sequence, narrated by the real Laurie Anderson.  Ah, bloody hell, I think.  It’s one of those.  And whilst it was one of those, I got completely behind this film.  Poor old Laurie Anderson.  She’s had a sort of triple-whammy of death – her dog, her mother, and of course, the late, great, Lou Reed, her partner.  So it’s a documentary, a very creative documentary, about death – how we deal with death, and what happens when we die.  But it’s more than that.  It’s about time, it’s about how we tell stories, and it’s about life in a world of surveillance, post-9/11.

Laurie Anderson appears to be a bit of an all-rounder.  Clearly an accomplished filmmaker, we are also treated to musical compositions, her narrative, delivered in a captivating style (it actually reminded me of the slightly sinister voiceover in Desperate Housewives) reading like a long-form poem, and her elaborate paintings which imagine her dog in the various stages of the Bardo, the Tibetan equivalent of a sort of purgatory.  There’s oodles of invention and daring concept in this film, including interludes of pure text on the screen, run out of order and flashing up very quickly, a see-what-sticks approach.  What, in the hands of some, might have ended up as a whimsical mélange of ideas, in Anderson’s, becomes an enlightening and perceptive essay.

Some of the connections she draws might sound silly, but in the film become utterly thrilling and convincing.  She takes you one way, and then steers you in completely the other direction, then draws things together that make you marvel at her skills of perception, her unique worldview.  She talks about the moment her dog, Lolabelle, was attacked by hawks when they were out for a walk – they mistook her for a rabbit.  The hawks realise their mistake and retreat – but the dog is left with a new fear – they can come from the air, too.  A whole 180 degrees of extra threat for Lolabelle, who, although territorial before the incident, now looks up at the sky constantly as well as scouting on the ground.  Anderson then swerves back to 9/11.  We, too, realised that they can come from the sky.

Some bits of this film worked for me and some didn’t.  I have to admit I got slightly lost during the extended Tibetan instructions for what to do when you die.  I think the film succeeded best when it was simply Anderson telling a story – something which she clearly has a gift for.  And she has important things to say, too, about how we tell stories, and the things we leave out.  Heart of a Dog never feels didactic.  It feels more like the musings of a wise elder, which you can take or leave.  At one point Laurie tells us that she tries to feel sad, but not to be sad.  I’m not even sure what that actually means, or how you could achieve it, but it sounds significant, and I’m going to give it a go.

LFF 2015: High-Rise

by Ben Diamond

Cold, detached and airless.  Tom Hiddlestone in High-Rise (Wheatley 2015, 112m)

Oh dear oh dear.  I was really looking forward to this.  Ben Wheatley has been rising in stature over the last five years, starting with his debut, Down Terrace (his best), shot on a shoestring budget, and following it up with tales of the darker part of the English psyche – Kill List, Sightseers and A Field In England.  Now he’s been given a proper budget and has chosen to adapt JG Ballard’s treasured novel High-Rise, which concerns the breakdown of social order in a block of flats for well-to-do professionals, who revolt against each other, and the building itself, which possesses its own sinister qualities and acts as a sort of superego for the collective hive mind of the residents.  A bit sci-fi, but not that sci-fi really, considering similar incidents were occurring at the time Ballard was writing the novel.  For someone with a fearsome reputation for pre-cog, including making the prophesy in the 1960s that Ronald Reagan would one day become president, this was more a reflection of what was happening, rather than what could happen.

Which all sounds like it might translate into a brilliant film.  I love Ben Wheatley but I feel he has simply picked source material that is too difficult to put onto the screen without losing Ballard’s intellectual verve.  I applaud his ambition.  But it simply doesn’t work.  Wheatley’s early work has been characterised by his gift for characterisation and dialogue, and his ability to create real menace and tension onscreen with nothing but a conversation.  In Ballard’s book, I feel most of the interesting ideas come from characters’ internal dialogues, not from external actions, which are actually fairly violent and repetitive.  Given a big budget, Wheatley appears to leave behind all the ideas about how the atmosphere of violence and jealousy of the High-Rise itself came to be, assuming it’s a given, and that we have all read the source material and understand it anyway, instead focusing on elaborate set designs and set pieces, which admittedly look stunning, but feel hollow without the ideas behind them being explained properly.

I really wanted this film to work.  In the end I feel Wheatley may have panicked and come to realise that, indeed, much of the message of the novel had been lost in the heady mix of visual flair and violent montages.  All of the characters from the book, (importantly) all living in different parts of the building and with different agendas, perspectives and attitudes, are thrown into a melting pot where they all blend into a homogenous, violent whole.  Perhaps this is why an audio clip of a Thatcher speech is shamefully tacked on to the end of the film, to give it some sort of intellectual weight which it had been lacking for the previous hour and forty minutes.  That might have been acceptable in This is England, but for a film devoid of social and political context up to then, it felt like a shortcut.  Even The Fall’s ‘Industrial Estate’, which plays over the end credits (in many ways the perfect track full stop, but certainly the perfect track for this film) couldn’t save this one.  The less said about the montage where Portishead cover ABBA’s ‘SOS’, the better.