Image courtesy of the Chungmuro International Film Festival

The 3rd Chungmuro film festival just finished on Tuesday night in Seoul. I have attended all three festivals, and this year there was a marked difference in the line-up. The previous years focused almost exclusively on older films, and as a result was a great opportunity for cinephiles to see classic films from Hollywood and around the world in the theatre. This year, the number of retrospectives has been significantly reduced, and the majority of the screenings are of newer releases. These changes were recently criticized in The Korea Times, which accused the festival of lacking any real direction and of not being able to match the content of the other major festivals (notably Pusan and Jeonju). I was personally saddened to see the number of older films cut, but nevertheless I can understand the desire to incorporate newer material. And the slogan of the festival, “Yesterday, Now and Forever”, does give an indication of the vision Chungmuro is looking to achieve: a synthesis of film history with the current international cinema. It is true that this first attempt did not really integrate these very well, but it is a worthwhile pursuit for future festivals. Especially for foreigners, there are things to complain about, most notably the lack of English subtitles on numerous films, especially the Korean classics. Even worse, a number of films were labeled as having subtitles but didn’t. I had this experience with Claude Chabrol’s early New Wave classic Les Cousins (1959), which was very disappointing given how hard it is to see this on home video. But despite the problems, this is a festival that I believe can succeed with some better planning, organization, and, yes, vision. In fact, this festival is actually needed for the city, given its size and the amount of interest in the movies.

Image courtesy of the Chungmuro International Film Festival

As far as the content of the festival goes, the newer films lacked the type of big-name auteurs you are likely to see at Pusan or even Jeonju. Thus, the burden is on the programmers to find lesser-known films of high quality. I was able to see a number of films that I thought were quite solid and would probably never have tracked down or maybe heard about otherwise. And this, after all, should be, at least partially, why festivals exist. This is the case with my favorite of the new films I saw, Kadoi Hajime’s Vacation (2008). The story has all the makings of a conventional melodrama: a prison guard about to be married decides to help with the execution of an inmate in exchange for a week’s vacation. However, the approach taken is very subdued and muted, much like the style and color scheme chosen by Kadoi. The rhythm recalls the classical Japanese cinema of Yasujiro Ozu or Mikio Naruse, and although Kadoi is not in the same class as these directors, the contemplative pace proves to be very thought-provoking. Very little information is given to us about the prisoner or the prison guard. Mostly we are simply shown their actions and surroundings and forced to work at interpreting their emotions. So economical is this style that the few moments of directorial comment have greater force: the quick flashback of the prison guard recalling a previous execution, and the jump cut as the prisoner realizes he is about to be executed. The ending seems to go against this trend slightly, being too upbeat in tone after everything that has proceeded it, but this is nevertheless a film worth pursuing.

Image courtesy of the Chungmuro International Film Festival

The new film I was most looking forward to was the French documentary It’s Hard Being Loved by Jerks (Daniel Leconte, 2008), which detailed the trial of the editor of the French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo, Phillipe Val, over the supposedly anti-Muslim Danish cartoons that the paper had reprinted. Filmmaker Leconte covered the trial in real time and offers almost two hours worth of talking-head interviews with the various participants. I found the film to be a disappointment, although it is still compelling because of the subject matter. There are two problems, both of which are related: the documentary style is very unimaginative, with far too many talking heads, and the documentary is far too one-sided in favor of Val and the free speech position. The result is a very dry, objective style approach that still managed to be as a biased as any of Michael Moore’s films. Not only does Leconte give far more screen time to people defending Val and his position, but he often interrupts and argues with those on the opposite side, something he never does with those with the free speech position. Thus, the very legitimate points around anti-Muslim sentiment in France and the French history of colonialism in places like Algeria are completely downplayed and undermined in favor of a very vague and rather simplistic view of “free speech”, a concept that the film never explores in any real depth. This would be less problematic if Leconte did not try to mask this behind the rather dull, objective television news style he employed. I actually often defend Michael Moore’s films because they are so obviously personal and subjective, more film essays than anything traditionally thought of as documentary. By contrast, Leconte’s film suffers from a great deal of bad faith, and despite the fact that I basically support the right of Val to publish the cartoons, I could not support the manipulation of this documentary.

Image courtesy of the Chungmuro International Film Festival

The other two contemporary films I saw were from two different branches of lower-budget filmmaking in America: Towelhead (Alan Ball, 2008) and Halloween II (Rob Zombie, 2009). Towelhead (aka Nothing is Private) is part of the oxymoron known as a studio independent (in this case, Warner Independent), a movement that began in the mid-90s when studios discovered there was money to be made from smaller indie dramas. The writer-director of Towehead, Alan Ball, made his name as the screenwriter of one of the more well-known examples of this niche, Oscar winner American Beauty (Sam Mendes, 1999). Towelhead was not nearly as successful commercially or critically, but I think it is a better film, less entertaining and more painful but ultimately more courageous in the issues it explores. Most notably, it is one of the few American films to deal with female sexuality, especially from the perspective of a young teenager. That the lead character, Jasira, has to come to this sexual awakening as an Arab during the first Gulf War living in Texas with an overprotective and restrictive father makes her ordeal almost overwhelming. However, despite some critical comments to the contrary, this is not a particularly bleak film. Yes, Jasira endures a great deal, but she ultimately survives and even is shown to come to terms with her life and her sexuality. In this way, it is the rare American film that is pro-sex, despite showing the many sexual dysfunctions and abuses of men. There is a certain stilted nature to the drama that can be off-putting, just as certain performances, especially Peter Macdissi as Jasira’s father, are rather odd and un-natural. But Ball is not aiming at pure realism. Clearly, this is a symbolic drama, in which everything about America gets distilled into a single tale. Because of this, it drives conservatives crazy, because it throws at them everything about America they want to deny. Thus it is ironic that I feel it is a very pro-American film, a view of America as a place that, despite its problems, offers the potential at being an open society, especially going forward into the future. Its treatment of Jasira and her sexuality is the key to this vision.

Images courtesy of the Chungmuro International Film Festival

Rob Zombie’s Halloween II is at the other end of the lower-budget Hollywood scale. Instead of aiming at the higher brow market of Oscars and festivals, it is an exploitation horror film aimed at lower brow pleasures. A couple of lines of dialogue in the film make this rather explicit: “Bad taste is the petrol of the American dream” and “I’m spoon-feeding drivel to the masses”. Like Towelhead, it is almost obsessed with sexuality, but here the view is both much more phallic and much darker. Rob Zombie is not without talent and visual flair, and there are a number of striking shots here, as Zombie shows his debt to German Expressionism. And the violence here is not presented as light fun; it is very harsh, relentless and disturbing. The problem is it is very reactionary and even regressive. The killings are very repetitive, both in their number and their method. There are numerous highly sexualized stabbings, in which the rage released is unmistakably libidinal. Zombie not only uses these sequences as spectacle; he even seems to be arguing on the side of this highly masculine form of sex as violence. This is most apparent in the one scene of violence we don’t see, in which the young boy who represents the killer’s soul states, “let’s have some fun”. It is clear from the results we see that he slowly butchers and tortures his teenage female victim, the type of detail the film couldn’t show and maintain its “R” rating. Nevertheless, watching the film, I couldn’t help but think of the obvious absurdity that this can be screened legally in Korea and hard-core pornography can’t. Even a film like Towelhead no doubt had a tougher time with the censors than Halloween II. Yet if any film is going to really negatively impact a young audience member, it’s this one. Of course, it made almost 16 million at the box office in the US this weekend, more than Towelhead will ever make even after years on DVD and cable television. Now, Halloween II has a right to exist, and even is fairly effective in its execution. But that this is advertised and perhaps even received as fun spectacle says a great deal about how perverse the structure of our entertainment system has become.

Image courtesy of the Chungmuro International Film Festival

Although the number of classic films was greatly reduced at this year’s festival, I did manage to see two films that are often on “Greatest Films” list: All About Eve (Joseph L. Mankiewicz, 1950) and The Third Man (Carol Reed, 1949). My opinion on the Oscar winner All About Eve is a minority one: I think it is one of the most overrated of classic films. The dialogue and performances are both great, but the direction and plot structure work to really deaden the pace. And next to the work of Billy Wilder, the cynicism does not really have any impact. Wilder’s Sunset Blvd. should have won Best Picture of 1950, and if someone wants true cynicism, check out Wilder’s Ace in the Hole (1951). On the other hand, The Third Man is one of my favorite films and one that I watched repeatedly and obsessively back when I was first discovering cinema. Most of these viewings were of an old public domain videocassette that was so murky that I could not make out an automobile in the lower frame of one shot and always wondered what the number on the bottom of the frame was (turns out it was a license plate). Now the film is available on a great Criterion DVD and Blu-Ray. Still, seeing it in the theatre on film for the first time was memorable, allowing a full appreciation of Carol Reed’s direction and Robert Krasker’s cinematography. There is so much about the film that is justly famous, but I’ll point out a couple of my favorite moments: the parrot that we first think is a crying baby and which bites the lead character, leading to a running joke in two later scenes; the still haunting and very surrealist image of the fingers coming through the sewer grate; and the glistening bricks inside the sewer tunnels themselves, where Holly Martens commits his final act of betrayal and compassion. The Third Man remains that greatest of rarities: endlessly entertaining and yet with a seriousness about the world that keeps resonating. It was the highlight of the festival, as it would be at most. The only negative about the screening was the behavior of the audience, with people admitted very late and others leaving early. The Korea Times piece also mentioned this lack of decorum at Chungmuro compared to other festivals, and this indeed is a problem of wanting to be inclusive while still maintaining the die-hard filmgoer. I have to admit that during this screening, I missed the more respectful audiences of the Seoul Cinematheque.

Image courtesy of the Chingmuro International Film Festival

Finally, I wanted to attend the closing ceremony and film, but both general audience and press seating was sold out. This is in some ways an encouraging sign, but it also seems like an odd choice to not be able to accommodate all the press that were interested in attending. This points to the general organizational problems that still exist. On the bright side, this is only the third year of the festival, and one in which Chungmuro made a dramatic change in direction. Attendance seemed high, especially on the weekend, so hopefully Chungmuro can reduce its emphasis on the financial and make improvements to the quality of the films and film-going experience next year in order to provide Seoul with the first-class film festival it needs.

Marc Raymond is the newest member of The One One Four editorial staff. You can read his blog Foreigner’s Guide to Film Culture in Korea for more great essays and reviews.

Image courtesy of the Chungmuro International Film Festival

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