Berlinale: Mariposa (Butterfly) / How to Win at Checkers (Every Time)

(Originally appeared in EXBERLINER on Feb. 8, 2015)

The Panorama section of the Berlin has always has a strong focus on LGBT films and this year's no exception. A sample of the Teddy contenders from the 2015-lineup reveals the interesting trend that sexually graphic portrayal of the gay lifestyle is no longer the mark of queer cinema. On the contrary, homosexuality is increasingly used as just another plot element to tell a story, drive a narrative.

First case in point is previous Teddy winner Marco Berger's "Mariposa (Butterfly)", a parallel-reality drama/romance that features a group of young people from rural Argentina in two sets of amorous constellations – as the extended consequences of an act of (non-)abandonment. A boy and a girl who would have ended up as adoptive siblings become strangers in a separate/imagined universe and are thus free to pursue their desire for one another. This deviation leads to a chain reaction where friends, acquaintances all inhabit a different version of themselves and their game of hearts finds a whole new outcome – or will it?

In short, it's a "Sliding Doors" / "The Butterfly Effect" revisit, only with a homosexual angle. In comparison to Berger's "Ausente (Absence)" or "Hawaii", however, that aspect is significantly toned down here. Although there are still unmistakably homo-eroticized scenes and one might argue the playful, sexually easygoing, somewhat fatalistic tone is altogether gay-friendly, the curiosity and attraction between two male characters is treated here as no more than one facet of a larger plot construct. In so doing, lust, whether hetero, homo, bisexual or even semi-incestuous, all gets its share of attention and a kind of stigma is quietly lifted.

On a technical level, the editing of the film is obviously of vital importance and it didn't disappoint. After a pretty rough start, where the constant switching between the two storylines gets a little mundane, the cuts get ever more confident and inventive, letting the alternative narrative pick up at unexpected places. The direction is also effective, especially in those many moments of tingling uncertainty. So even though the film's ultimately a rather pointless exercise in imagination, at its laziest it's a lot of harmless, flirty fun.

Hailing from Thailand, writer/director Josh Kim makes his feature debut with "How to Win at Checkers (Every Time)", a coming-of-age drama centered around 11-year-old boy Oat. Growing up parent-less, he's dependent on big brother Ek, who's the very symbol of worldliness and competence to his young eyes. As the date for the military draft lottery draws near and Ek faces a real possibility of having to leave home to serve, however, Oat learns not only about the fragility of his lifelong protector/idol, but also the dirty, disappointing workings of the adult world.

Once again, the homosexual element of the story is prominent but not zealously harped upon. The fact that Ek has a (rich) boyfriend and one of their best pals, Kitty, is a transgender person is taken as a given, enacted without much fanfare. Plot details such as Kitty's special treatment at the military draft lottery do inform one of Thailand's liberal awareness regarding sexuality. But that's also used mainly as general backdrop and not a focal point of the story. The film concentrates instead on the relationship between the two brothers and the loss of innocence that would shape the character of a child.

As refreshing as the normalcy afforded to homosexuality is, this movie comes up short in most technical aspects. The cinematography is patchy. Aside from the overall warm, pinkish-earthy tone of the imagery, the camera operation is less-than-inspired. Both the editing and the acting are rough, unable to shake the cartoonish out of the funny or find a more fluid rhythm. That said, the subject matter is well chosen and, at a festival with all kinds of high-minded auteur works, something that wears the heart on its sleeves like this actually offers a welcomed respite.    

Venice Film Festival: Burying the Ex / Court

"Burying the Ex" is a lifeless, biteless, incredibly generic thing that in no way lives up to the name of its maker, horror maestro Joe Dante. Helping itself to an assortment of genre clichés and ha-ha one-liners, it's lazily plotted and, as a zom-rom-com, neither scary nor romantic. It doesn't work as a parody of those traditions either, lacking the necessary intensity of cinematic language. So it ends up being this very predictable, very tame, mildly amusing wannabe joker dying of lethargy. Lead actor Anton Yelchin is probably not at fault here, even if he doesn't exactly win you over with any fresh on-screen creation. Ashley Greene, on the other hand, confirms she's one the least gifted actresses out there, managing to be forcefully unmenacing, unfunny, uninteresting all at the same time. Her zombie ex-girlfriend is the centerpiece, the raison d'être of this movie, so it's hard to get people to care when her presence is as non-existent as it is. Everything in the tech department, from sound to special effects make-up, is unremarkable. Not even horror fans just seeking to get their fill would be happy with this one. .

"Court" is a somewhat bulkily written but beautifully directed legal drama that, belying this simplified categorization, extends its concern beyond the criminal dispute at its heart to the lives of all parties involved. Indian writer/director Chaitanya Tamhane is a skillful storyteller, setting up a distinctive stage as he introdruces the central figure in the possibly incendiary folk music singer, upping the stakes along the way as he presents the justice system in the country governed by archaic, politically motivated statutes, and then flesh out his characters as he regularly visits their off-courtroom life, allowing the viewer to observe them from a completely different angle. Marked by creativity, daring and a level-headed efficiency, the direction elevates the story from a single case to a broader narrative, a common cause, a big picture. The editing is just as great, knowing where to let the scenes breathe and how to jump cut to the most impactful next frame, surprising yet always reasoned. Technically raw but boasting a realism that's not mocking or sentimental, this is the kind of effort that shows promise in a first-time filmmaker.

Berlinale: Nước 2030

"Nước 2030" by Nghiêm-Minh Nguyễn-Võ is a vietnamese sci-fi love/crime story set in a future where most of the land is submerged under rising sea water. The production design is adequate if never quite exceptional but the photography is oftentimes hypnotically beautiful as it shows the timesless splendor of waves and light in their lavish expanse and untamed colors. Add to that a mostly experimental score striking in its disharmony and you get a cinematic language that's expressively bold and vibrant. Unfortunately the film is narratively just all over the place, touching upon the melodramatic, the suspenseful, the political, the fantastical without hitting any one of those notes home. The questionable editing doen't help propelling or even explaining things much, so the uninitiated viewer could well be left alternately confused and bored through all that visual poetry.

The Lunchbox

Indian romantic dramedy "The Lunchbox" is a charming little thing with a nice set-up and lots of heart. So it's a shame that writer/director Ritesh Batra failed to put an original spin on the rather tired, easily exhaustible storyline of fateful love through mixed-up correspondence. Sure there's plenty of romance mired in the notion of two unhappy souls drifting in an ocean of anonymity and loneliness finding the warmth of each other by chance- and the script really makes it a point not to put too much kitsch or gloss on the turn of events to sustain an endearing, human glow throughout- but ideas and goodwill can only get you so far. Inadequacies in writing show when the lunchbox routine starts getting familiar and the bluntly open ending has to be considered a directorial misstep.

In the end this is a commendable effort that has wonderful, character-based comedic moments, is honestly told and offers some rare peeks into the unglamorous emotional underbelly of metropolitan Mumbai. It just never quite rises above its own mild manners and breaks any grounds.

Berlinale: Captive / Keyhole

Brillante Mendoza's "Captive" chronicles the travails of an international group of hostages in the Filipino jungles over the course of one year. Its true-to-life, semi-documentary-style depiction made the eventful story somewhat tedious, but both Mendoza's uncompromising approach and lead actress Isabelle Huppert's volcanic performance are forces to be reckoned with; Canadian director Guy Maddin's "Keyhole" is 90 torturous minutes of feverish black-and-white pictures, jarring music and an utterly logic-free storyline featuring a bike-pedaled electric chair, a naked old man chained to a bed and Isabella Rossellini. Even for an insane mind, this is some twisted, tripped-up dream.