Estonian Dispatch: The First Feature Competition Round-Up

There are few greater pleasures than watching new visions by debut directors: offering rough and ready versions of ideas that they simply couldn’t wait to get off the page and onto the big screen. The Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival — celebrating its 25th year — offered all of this and more with its First Feature Competition, with 20 films from first-time filmmakers that have little in common besides a desire to make a strong mark upon the cinema stage.

With minimal sleep but plenty of company and even more coffee, I managed to see all 20 films in this debut stage in the small yet bustling city at the heart of Northern Europe. Braving the cold, rain, snow, sleet and slippery streets, and catching a mixture of cinema screenings and screeners — two experienced while waiting in airports — I can safely say that the programme featured a strong combination of crowdpleasers and arthouse experiences, showing off the next generation of filmmakers in style. As Festival Director Tiina Lokk told us in our podcast interview: There could be mistakes, but you see the talent.

Other Cannibals

Perhaps the best example of combining both broad appeal with an intense personal vision is the First Feature Competition winner Other Cannibals (Francesco Sossai, pictured above). Beloved by basically every British person I met in the festival, this German-produced, South Tyrol-shot black-and-white tragicomedy is a loopy journey exploring an unusual friendship with shades of the oddball humour of Ben Wheatley. It wouldn’t have been my first choice for the winner — that would’ve been the touching German drama Precious Ivie (Sarah Blaßkiewitz), exploring racism in Germany with great nuance and humanity — but its a deserved winner nonetheless with the potential to be a breakout hit.

The biggest commercial success is probably destined for Immersion (Nicolás Postiglione), a taut Chilean thriller that uses a simple conceit — man stuck on a boat with two strangers and his obstinate daughters — that could easily be remade on Michigan’s Lake Superior. Expect a streaming pick up for this one, which shared the Jury Special Prize with the French Her Way (Cécile Ducrocq), which boasted a brilliant, pick-of-the-fest performance from Call My Agent’s Laure Calamy as a sex worker raising funds for her son’s cooking education.

Often the most interesting visions win the critic’s awards, with the FIPRESCI prize going to Aleksandra Terpińska’s Other People (pictured below),which adapted the unusually-written rap novel by Dorota Maslowska to excellent effect; providing a panoramic portrait of Polish society which doesn’t shy away from its savage critique of unfettered consumerism. A perfect movie to catch just ahead of the Christmas holidays. Using a great array of cinematic tricks, it deserved to be joined by Lithuania’s Feature Film About Life (Dovilė Šarutytė) for its affecting blend of narrative fiction of home-video, but which failed to win any awards.

Other People

I’m broadly happy with the awards, but it is a shame that Asian efforts — from the incredibly well-shot black-and-white, dream-like vision of Chinese film Who Is Sleeping in Silver Grey (Liao Zihao, pictured in header) to the dour, depressing yet truly original Dozens of Norths (Koji Yamamura) from Japan to India’s whimsical The Cloud & The Man (Abhinandan Banerjee)— missed out on any awards. In fact, Immersion was the only non-European film to win an award in this section, making it a more insular, Euro-centric ceremony than it needed to be.

As a British critic, I’m often harshest on my own country’s efforts, which is why it was a shame that The Score (Malachi Smyth) failed to live up to the hype of its ‘heist-musical’ designation. A more un-categorisable entry was Adam Donen’s deeply idiosyncratic Alice, Through the Looking: À la recherche d’un lapin perdu (pictured below), a phantasmagorical journey through space, time, memory, filmmaking, philosophy and almost everything else you can think of. It was a film that didn’t really succeed, but it was deeply interesting nonetheless. Equally entertaining was our conversation with the filmmaker, which you can listen to over on Mixcloud.

Watching movies themselves is only one part of the pleasures involved in a film festival, especially one as egalitarian as Tallinn Film Festival. Where in Berlinale and Cannes access to talent is moderated through PRs, regulated meeting slots, and the dreaded roundtable, Tallinn allows you to easily share drinks, conversations and good times with the talent themselves, especially the debut directors and actors who are just as glad to be there as you. This kind of direct communication allows for the free transfer of ideas and debates about cinema and national character types, giving one the sense of truly being at the centre of the film world, if only for ten days.

Alice, Through the Looking

An excursion to Estonian’s second largest city of Tartu — which will be a European Capital City of Culture in 2024 — was also included as part of the festival’s hospitality package, expanding my understanding of the Baltic nation’s make-up. And whether it was the innovative, digital-first national museum, the melancholic ruins and bridges above the town, the bohemian river-side cafés and bars, or the pink-pastel buildings that suggest Wes Anderson’s next movie, it’s these types of small journeys that definitely expand what a film festival can provide: not just watching one film after another, but the opportunity to engage with a larger cultural context. Estonians don’t just provide cinema, they provide a true sense of unforced community. I simply can’t wait to visit my Baltic friends again this time next year.

Locarno Film Festival 2021: a terrific Ticinese time

On the surface, a film festival is ostensibly a place where you watch films on seats of varying comfort. One writes about the films and makes comparisons between them. But a film festival is also about the location in which you watch them, the people that you meet and how you are feeling during that time. Naturally, my own reviews are influenced by my sleep, mood, comfort and hunger levels. There’s been many festivals that I haven’t enjoyed simply because there was nothing interesting surrounding the films that I saw or the vibe was just off. Even my first Locarno, despite the great films, was a little lonesome, as I had fewer surrounding experiences than I had this time.

After all, the second best thing about a film festival apart from the films is talking about the films, whether it’s over a beer, just after a screening or in a garden-party set straight out of the Finzi-Continis. It’s yet another reminder of the magical connections that can be made within a space where everyone is just as enthusiastic about film culture as you are. On the key metric of connections, conversations and cultural experiences, Locarno 2021 was just as good as a film festival can get.

Medea

One experience truly stood out: after hearing about industry lunches, I sent an email asking to be invited. I was graciously squeezed in and enjoyed a buffet meal featuring skewered chicken, glorious salads and macaroni pasta, all washed down with a few glasses of Merlot di Bianchi. Once there I heard from a Lugano-based journalist that Peter Greenaway’s unfinished Walking to Paris was being shopped around and looking for bidders (not an official festival entry). This led me to an art gallery perched on top of a small castle designed by none other than Leonardo DiVinci himself. One couldn’t ask for a better preview of Greenaway’s latest art-obsessed piece, telling the story of Constantin Brâncusi’s long journey from Romania to Paris.

The castle was designed to fight off the Milanese. The Swiss won. I asked the gallery assistant showing me around if he was happy to be Swiss instead of Italian. He replied that he was first and foremost Ticinese. It reminded me that the spaces that you live and navigate culture in matter. So do the ways in which you move from place to place. Taking the Alpine express from Zurich to Locarno was a particularly revelatory experience. One second the signs and announcements were in German. After emerging through a tunnel into Ticino, everything changed to Italian. It was like entering into a completely different world. Like Brâncusi, the longer trip made me appreciate the city in a whole new light.

Cop Secret

If the countryside and architecture feel timeless, the seemingly steadfast Swiss (slash Ticinese) are always open to trying new things, with Locarno opening itself up to wider audiences by embracing genre. Beckett (Ferdinando Cito Filomarino) and Free Guy (Shawn Levy) — both Hollywood-backed, large budget productions — made the headlines, but there was also a noticeably different genre entry in Cop Secret (pictured above). According to director Hannes Þór Halldorsson and the crew, who I had the privilege of meeting, the film, which aped buddy cop classics such as Tango and Cash (Andrei Konchalovsky, 1989) 48 Hours (Walter Hill, 1982) and Lethal Weapon (Richard Donner, 1989), is a complete fantasy. No street cops in Iceland have guns. They rarely shoot up banks either. It is a purely cinematic kind of action-comedy, foregoing logic for the laughs and thrills instead.

Auteur Abel Ferrara took to genre too with Zeros and Ones (which won the best director award) ,ten times more serious than Cop Secret and about a hundred times more confusing. Ethan Hawke was tasked as the archetypal American hero to investigate a secret that could collapse the Catholic church. Here the New York director took the moral muddiness of Le Carré spy thrillers and turned it into a positive quagmire.

Zeros and Ones may have straddled the difference between genre and despair, but other films outright embraced the latter idea, creating films with deep, wounding voids at their centre. Medea (Alexander Zeldovich, pictured top) transformed the classic Greek myth to the modern Russian expat generation, telling the story of a woman who would do anything to reverse the effects of ageing. I found it to be a haunting epic with extraordinary power, buoyed by an exceptional Tinatin Dalakishvili performance. Likewise, Luzifer (Peter Brunner) took the void literally, with its continuous revisiting of a cave in the side of a mountain, supposedly the place where the devil may reside. But while Medea felt open and had the feeling it could go anywhere, Luzifer, despite an excellent Franz Rogowski performance, sadly had nowhere to go.

Meanwhile, The Sacred Spirit (Chema García Ibarra, pictured below), the blackest of comedies from Spain, and a special mention winner, used deadpan framing to portray the call of cult conspiracies, leading to a truly whacky experience. Judging from fellow reactions, expect this competition film to have the longest legs.

The Sacred Spirit

Quality can often be a question of ambition, with many truly ambitious discoveries found in Concorso Cineaste del Presente section, which focuses on first, second and third features. One can sense the effort the programmers went to in order to create a truly diverse programme, spanning from the standout Streams (Mehdi Hmili; pictured at the top), a breathlessly exciting investigation of contemporary and contradictory Tunisian culture, to Wet Sand (Elene Naveriani) — winner of the Best Actor award for Gia Agumava — a quiet plea for more humanity towards Georgia’s LGBT citizens. Other complaints against national culture included the Mexican Mostro (José Pablo Escamilla), an investigation of the underclass which combined experimental tropes with slice-of-life drama to ultimately middling effect.

On a purely formal basis, the most credit and appreciation must go to FIRST TIME [The Time for All but Sunset – VIOLET]. Set on the Hamburg U3 circle train, it shows director Nicolaas Schmidt commit to a simple conceit with truly poignant results. I watched that one on the way to the festival, my own train journey going by and making for a truly three-dimensional experience. It’s another reminder that films never exist in the void, but are innately tied up in the way that they are seen. While trepidatious on my way here, I leave feeling deeply excited about the potential for world cinema to show me new things while finding new ways of telling those stories. It reaffirms the Swiss (slash Ticinese) festival as one of the best in the world.

I can’t wait to go back.