procrastination report 2

Guh. I watched 4 films today. This is a festive season, truly, when I watch films all day and think about glorious filmy stuff and bump into glorious filmy people and have long conversations about glorious film.

I was just reading the Onion AV Club interview with Maggie Gyllenhaal, and what she was saying reminded of something I noticed today in the some of the culty films I saw - Sukiyaki Western Django and Pop Skull for the record - and how the cult oeuvre can really have a misogynistic edge to it. I don't think this is hysterical feminism here - I mean, if noone's going to ask why the pure virgin has to become a whore to get any justice in this town, or why the two women in Pop Skull are a breaker of hearts bitch (who ostensibly gets her comeuppance) and a slutty I'll-come-onto-anyone-even-a-self-absorbed-ugly-whinger girlfriend (and while we're at it, why all the women in The Devil Dared Me To came to very sticky ends) then I think we have a serious problem. Quentin Tarantino and Joss Whedon are constantly asked about their strong heroines, as if they were an anomaly. Maggie's right dammit - women who either just scream, or are traded about like loot aren't very much fun to watch. Quite apart from being insulting and offensive, it's actually boring. We should want more from our screen women.

I did an interview today for Radio New Zealand about my latest short Take 3 - this is one of those moments where you mastermind the perfect soundbite, which would be:

q: is there a message to your film? Something that you were trying to do or say with it?
a: if there was something I was trying to do in the film, it would be allowing the otherwise objectified to have the sense, good humour, and intelligence to address their objectification - which, it turns out, they do.

Does that sound wanky? Yes, yes it does. (but it would have been awesome wankiness!)

I look forward to seeing (and reviewing!) Teeth at the fest.

On a completely different subject, I think the reason why I cried so hard that I actually sobbed in CJ7 is because, while I've been writing for BiaN, I've been thinking about the nature of parental love, and what it means in different cultures. It's so strange about synchronicity - I had bumped into Briar (see what I mean about the festive air of the film festival?) and we ended up talking about how our generation (in New Zealand at least) hasn't suffered any period of great upheaval - no world war, no depression - and how the stakes were so much higher for our parents. And it's so true - a generation ago, the stakes were so high that you invested everything, and I mean everything into your future - your children - that you would do anything - nag, disapprove, cajole - to make their lives better in the long run. My parents did it, and the father in CJ7 did it. Only when he was gone did the little boy realise the true nature of his father's love. Whenever I think of that kid waking up and hugging his dad and promising to be a good boy - I'm tearing up now, jesus - I think, this scene might not ever be in a western liberal film, and maybe that's why so few people turned up to the screening I went to. Maybe that's why the film doesn't do so well outside of Asia, I don't know. For me, it's one of my favourite kid-friendly movies of all time. Seriously.

breakfast:
milo and a flatto peach.

verdict:
I'd forgotten I'd pinched some peaches from home. It was so sweet and juicy.