Review of Murderball (2005) by Wes B — 12 Apr 2005

Welcome to the 14th annual Philadelphia Film Festival, where all the thrillers are �taut and compelling�, the comedies are �hilarious and outrageous� and the dramas are �powerful and poignant�. Actually, that is what the overly complimentary festival program, which printed positive capsule reviews for all of the featured films, would have you believe. Film festivals are a cineaste�s paradise. Not only could I freely jump from one screening to another (one day I topped out at four films, yet I was still ready for a fifth), but I was able to see some films before their national (or limited) release and a few that may never be seen outside of the festival circuit (some deservedly so). However, you must be cautious when choosing which films to see since the quality of films at ranges widely. The fact that I am a poor decision maker does not put me in a great situation. After the first four days of the film festival, my self-doubting has occasionally proved accurate. However, my poor-decisiveness did fail me at times and I ended up seeing a handful of good films.

It is easily apparent why this well-organized event has so many repeat attendees. I encountered one cinephile who exclaimed with much fervor that it is her 5th year, while another nonchalantly affirmed it was his 12th experience and it would not be his last. There is a friendly spirit that pervades the atmosphere at every screening. While waiting on line or quietly sitting in the theater chair, I have been approached by tremendously gregarious film lovers and I kindly reciprocated. Over the past week I have been eating popcorn for meals and coffee has been my beverage of choice (actually, it served more purpose as a stimulant). On opening night, last Thursday, I overheard (ok -- I was eavesdropping) a partier at the pre-screening party declare that �Philadelphia knows how to do it right�. All I could think to myself on this lavish opening night was, �I hope so�.

I walked into the Prince Music Theater around 7:50 for a 7:30 party followed by an 8:30 screening of �Ferpect Crime� (yes, the title is deliberately misspelled). I wish I could say I was fashionably late, but I�m simply not very punctual. There was a large group of people circulating throughout the lobby (one must quickly adapt to large crowds and lines at a film festival). As I squirmed my way through the well-dressed crowds, I felt lost. Literally � I was lost; I could not find the stairs. After aimlessly wandering around a bit (I would soon master this maneuver), I was found by an elderly usher who asked, �Are you lost?� I responded, �No, I was just looking around. Do you happen to know where the stairs are?� He gave me detailed directions; �Right to your left, sir�. I chuckled with a thankful sigh, fully conscious of my foolishness, and proceeded up the stairs. This small anecdote is basically a representation of my festival experience so far; I was disoriented but enthralled by the spectacle. Only five minutes later I descended down those same stairs to the first screening of the film festival.

As a volunteer at the festival aptly articulated, �the film festival was off to an auspicious debut with a sold out opening night�. The Spanish director of �[b]Ferpect Crime[/b]�, Alex de la Iglesia, was present to introduce the film (afterwards he conducted a hilarious Q & A). In his humorous introduction, he struggled with English and casually denounced his own film. I was a bit wary that this would soon turn into an �I told you so� moment, but fortunately, the film was not awful. However, the director did overshadow his own production. The shallow �Ferpect Crime� has an agenda and it wants to constantly remind you how much of a vicious dark comedy it is. It goes from being simply shallow to being completely misanthropic. The overt malice is momentarily amusing, but grows tedious and misguided social commentary dulls its sharpness.

By far the worst film to have polluted the screen was [b]�[/b][b]Land of Plenty[/b][b]�[/b]: Wim Wenders� �response� to 9/11. I actually admire (correction: previously admired) some of his work from the 80�s, so this was very disappointing. Once again, a filmmaker should have resisted the urge to make a seemingly obligatory film in reaction to 9/11. I believe that directors should not make �responses to 9/11� when they really do not have much to say or have no skill in making their response cinematic. In �Land of Plenty�, Wenders wishes to portray the strengths and weaknesses of America through the two main characters. One is a pill-popping, freedom fries eating, and racial slur spouting stereotype of an intolerant and paranoid war veteran (scary nightmares included!). This paranoid man tracks down suspicious looking Arabs (which, to him, is every person with slightly dark skin) like a child with his first plastic spy kit. The other (the war vet�s niece) lead is an altruistic and understanding daughter of a communist missionary who has just traveled the world and has recently returned to America, where she feels sympathy for all the homeless people in Los Angeles. This equally overblown character is played by Michelle Williams, who, like so many other young actresses, supposes that becoming a brunette will make everyone forget about her blonde days on Dawson�s Creek and take her seriously. I would Michelle, if you did not make such poor film choices. The characters in the film are so over-the-top that they become mere caricatures and any type of redemption seems entirely false. In the film, one person asks another if the vodka he is serving is harder to swallow than lighter fluid. However, it is a trick question: the answer is this film. �Land of Plenty� is plenty of bullshit.

Among the better films I have seen so far this festival is the honest Australian coming-of-age film [b]�Somersault�[/b], which revolves around a vulnerable and dependent teenage girl (Charlize Theron look-alike, Abbie Cornish) who leaves home within the first five minutes of the film after being caught kissing her mother�s boyfriend. The director, Cate Shortland, makes an impressive debut and uses the camera as a color-changing mood ring, reflecting the characters� moods at the moment. She also displayed deft skill in providing contrasting imagery of cold and hot. The �nymphomaniacal lost soul� seems to be a common theme at the film festival. [b]�Right Now�[/b], a film modeled after the French New Wave style of filmmaking, follows a nineteen year old young lady who wants to escape the banal, so she runs off with her new boyfriend, who just happens to be a bank robber. Knowing this is based on a true story truly baffles me. I wonder when filmmakers began producing films about people who are not special at all. It is reflected in the film, which is satisfying, yet ordinary. The audience, like the main character, is stuck in the mundane. Luckily, we have the expressive Isild Le Besco to appreciate.

The best documentary, and perhaps the best film yet, is [b]�Murderball�[/b], which deservedly won the Audience Award for Best Documentary at Sundance this past February. This superlatively entertaining and involving documentary chronicles the past few years of the U.S. Paralympics rugby team, although the focus is not mainly on the sport. The filmmakers wisely opted to explore the personal lives of the charismatic athletes and how they coped with their handicapped status. They do not describe their situations with dread, but with hope and gratitude, which makes for an inspirational tale. I guarantee it will be a huge hit when it is inevitable released (hopefully soon).

On Tuesday I was diagnosed with a plight called fatigue. I was on the verge of a breakdown � both physical and mental. A man has got to rest! Perhaps my friends and family were accurate in calling me certifiably insane for seeing so many films in a short amount of time. Next week I will recap all of the films I have seen (there are many more) and give out my own special awards.

Just some grades for films I have seen so far:

Ferpect Crime: C+.

Right Now: B-.

Land of Plenty: D.

Somersault: B.

House of D: C.

Mysterious Skin: C.

I Know Where I'm Going!: B.

Muderball: B+.

The Holy Girl: B.

Ma Mere: (undecided, but I'm very mixed).

5 x 2: Five Times Two: B-.