Belfast Film Festival: Day One

By Jack Pengelly

Last Thursday I attended several screenings of the opening day of the Belfast Film Festival. Over the course of the next week or so (April 11th-20th) the festival is showing dozens of films from around the world at a number of Belfast cinemas, including the Queen’s Film Theatre and Dublin Road Movie House. Be sure to check out their listings online for their full range of screenings.

LORO (2018, dir. Paolo Sorrentino)

Directed by Italian visionary Paolo Sorrentino, Loro is a wholly unauthorised biopic of former Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. The film eschews the life-story approach many biopics take, instead focusing on a brief period (2006-2009ish) in Berlusconi’s life as he attempts to return to power.

As the prominence of Donald Trump in both the reality and media of recent years has illustrated, parody can be difficult when the truth is already so bizarre. Berlusconi was a cartoonish character in politics before this became the apparent standard, so it is all the more impressive that lead actor Toni Servillo creates a believable and three-dimensional portrait of a man who was as ridiculed as he was reviled. He deftly balances the absurd aspects of Berlusconi – his cartoonish grin and frequent bursts into song being the most laughable – with the harsh reality of a man reckoning with his prime, both political and physical, being far behind him.

I saw the international cut of the film – it was originally released as two parts, with a total runtime of 204 minutes – which I felt suffered from some jarring tonal inconsistency. Berlusconi is totally absent from the film’s opening act, which focuses on Sergio Morra’s (Riccardo Scamarcio) attempts to get the Prime Minister’s attention. This period of the film has the sharpest visual and tonal identity, putting me in mind of The Wolf of Wall Street in its portrayal of towering excess. Morra’s lifestyle of debauchery makes for several engaging sequences, which although emotionally hollow could never be accused of being boring.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the remaining two hours of the film. Although Berlusconi’s introduction at the end of this act allows the film to begin its character study proper, the momentum of that opening half hour is never matched. Berlusconi is a fascinating character who has been fully-rendered but watching him meander about his summer house wrestling with his place in a changing world (as riveting as that may sound) doesn’t make for as engaging viewing.

The film’s lack of meaningful events is, to me, its chief flaw. Although there is a slight pick-up in the closing act, the film struggled to hold my attention for its duration. It is certainly worth seeing for its central performance – Scamarcio and Elena Sofia Ricci also shine in supporting roles – but these performances cannot prevent an overwrought runtime from dragging.

KEEP AN EYE OUT (2018, dir. Quentin Dupieux)

The second film I watched was Keep an Eye Out (or Au Porte! in its native French). This absurd black comedy follows a man (Gregoire Ludig) who finds a dead body outside his apartment one night, and subsequently becomes the prime suspect of their murder. The film takes place over a single night and is almost entirely confined to the office of the detective in charge of the interrogation (Benoit Poelvoorde).

The dual lead performances are underplayed yet totally suited to the film’s style of dry comedy. Ludig is pitch-perfect as the beleaguered everyman whose just wants to go to bed, while Poelvoorde is an excellent foil – his casually bizarre detective is perhaps the film’s highlight. The play-like structure of the film means that their chemistry is integral to its success, and they pull it off with aplomb.

As is par for the course with any absurd-leaning film, there are frequent detours and fourth-wall breaks. Often these techniques can be jarring, but Keep an Eye Out balances these eccentricities well. As our suspect recounts his story, we see his version of events play out on screen, something the film has great fun playing with – one scene sees his testimony interrupted by a character appearing within the flashback to have a brief discussion about the past, future and free will.

Typing that out I can see how that might sound insufferably pretentious, but the film maintains a good balance between self-indulgent absurdities and dry situational comedy. You could do a lot worse than this crisply-shot and well-acted film, which I can wholeheartedly recommend.

LUZ (2018, dir. Tilman Singer)

My first day at the festival concluded with Luz – a stylish German horror film that evokes classic Exorcist-era possession flicks. A demonic force is in pursuit of the eponymous Luz (Luana Velis), a woman who has an immediate aura of mystery.

The film is shot in 16mm, giving it an authentically retro aesthetic and contributing to the old-school approach the film takes. Although the runtime clocks in at a tight 70 minutes, the film takes its time to set up all the relevant pieces of the forthcoming mystery. The opening scene is a patient piece of mildly threatening exposition, as the erratic Nora (Julia Riedler) captivates both the audience and Dr. Rossini (Jan Bluthardt) with the story of a strange girl from Chile. The film’s patient approach means that when the tension picks up it is all the more effective.

The main set-piece is an interrogation of Luz which incorporates some light hypnosis. It is exceptionally shot, with Luz’s hypnotised perception of her surroundings melding with the reality of the room in an incredibly stylish way. As the scene progresses – devolving further and further into madness – the tension is ratcheted up effectively by Singer, who crafts some truly distressing imagery from this demonic affair. Said imagery often toes the line between absurd and haunting, which leads to few sparse sight gags that are great but don’t detract from the tense atmosphere.

While some – myself included – might feel a little frustrated by an ending that seemed a bit abrupt, Luz has enough style and fresh ideas to stand out as horror highlight.