'Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives' review: Great Expectations?

The other day somebody from Sony was telling me how concerned they were that ‘The Social Network’ might be negatively affected by all the positive reviews: the idea being that they could generate a backlash against it. I can understand that concern because, however much I try to black out reviews and awards from my mind, it can be hard to view a film in a culture vacuum. For example, if you go and see a film that has won Best Picture at the Oscars, no matter how good it is, you might easily find yourself saying “yes, it was good. But it wasn't a Best Picture winner was it?”

I had such an experience last week as I saw Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s ‘Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives’ playing at the 4th Kaunas International Film Festival in Lithuania. Having won the coveted Palm d’Or at this year’s (by many accounts subpar) Cannes Film Festival, I went into ‘Uncle Boonmee’ with dangerously high expectations. To me, post-Cannes, it was no longer a little Thai film from an interesting and experimental director. Instead it was inevitably now stacked up alongside the awards past recipients: “Is it as good as ‘Pulp Fiction’, ‘The Wind That Shakes the Barley’ or ‘The White Ribbon’?”



Of course, this is not at all fair. The award itself has nothing to do with the film, and this disperate band of unconnected past winners is even less relevant. A film should really be judged on its own merits. Perhaps this is true: but is it ever realistic? Or even possible?

Most critics will routinely compare a new work alongside others of the same genre or with other films made by the same director. Is this bad practice? I wonder how different the reception to some films might have been had the critics not known anything about the author going in. Would the 'Star Wars' prequels be so universally hated if people compared them to the bland likes of ‘Clash of the Titans’ or ‘Transformers’ as opposed to the original trilogy? And the opposite is likely true also: I can’t imagine ‘Inland Empire’, divorced from the legacy and reputation of David Lynch, would be endured by as many fawning acolytes.



So it was that I watched the Palm d’Or-winning ‘Uncle Boonmee’ expecting great things. 'Uncle Boonmee' follows the titular character as he looks back on his life whilst suffering from a terminal illness. He is visited by the ghost of a previous wife and by his son who has become an ape, whilst he also relives some past lives: most notably during a bizarre protracted sequence in which an deformed princess has sex with a catfish. The film is nothing if not unique.

I am usually a big fan of the so-called "slow cinema" movement. Recent examples like the Romanian 'Police, Adjective' and the Russian Golden Lion entry 'Ovsyanki' have thrilled me greatly. But 'Boonmee' did actually start to bore me with its long, ponderous takes and silent scenes of relative inactivity. And, in part due to its acclaim, I found myself trying to find reasons why it wasn't working for me. Perhaps I don't know enough about Buddhism and reincarnation? Perhaps I'm experiencing slow cinema fatigue after recent trips to film festivals?



Whatever it was, I didn't connect with 'Uncle Boonmee' on an emotional level and wasn't gripped by the folkloric story. It is unquestionably a bold and imaginative film, with the glowing red eyes of the mysterious monkey gods that stalk the jungle a particular visual highpoint. Weerasethakul is also a master of atmosphere, especially in terms of sound design. Earlier this year I saw one of his short art installation films, 'Phantoms of Nabua' (see bottom of review), playing at the BFI Southbank and it has clear parallels with 'Boonmee' in terms of the sharp nighttime cinematography and also in the way that it uses natural sounds which give you a real sense of being in the middle of a real space. Watching both this and 'Boonmee' I felt as though I was in the jungle at times.

It is also true that 'Boonmee' is often laugh-out-loud funny. One photomontage, midway through the film, shows a man in a monkey suits hugging some military men, whilst in another scene Boonmee describes how he killed communists in his time as a soldier commenting that they were a "pain in the ass". Yet these moments only served to raise my enjoyment levels fleetingly during the film's near two hour running length.



Whilst the Palm d'Or win will inevitably lead to wider distribution than the film could otherwise have hoped for, I don't think 'Uncle Boonmee' has the same potential with audiences as last year's Cannes big hitters did (namely 'Un Prophet' and 'The White Ribbon'). It is certainly an imaginative film which is beautiful to watch, yet ultimately, whether or not high expectations or festival film fatigue were to blame, 'Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives' just didn't do it for me on a visceral, gut level. Would I have felt differently had I seen it at that first show in Cannes when it was still an obscure oddity? It's possible, but I suppose I'll never know for sure.

Below is the art installation short 'Phantoms of Nabua'. 'Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives' is released in the UK on the 19th of November and is not yet rated by the BBFC.

When in Romuva: An interview with Kaunas International Film Festival Director Ilona Jurkonyte

This week I spent a couple of days visiting the Kaunas International Film Festival, held in a Forum Cinema multiplex at the heart of Lithuania's second city. Only in its fourth year, the event is already gaining steam and able to boast some interesting guests. This year's event is playing host to the venerated Hungarian auteur Béla Tarr - who is coming to talk about his work whilst the festival celebrates his career with a retrospective. I was curious to know how the relatively small town of Kaunas, in an unfashionable corner of Europe, was able to attract such a guest - not to mention put on such an interesting and diverse programme which this year includes international festival hits: such as Thai Palm D'Or winner 'Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives'.

I asked the Festival's Director and founder Ilona Jurkonyte about welcoming Béla Tarr to the festival, and she was unsurprisingly enthusiastic when quoting for me a national film critic, who said: "If someone were to ask what were the two most important moments in Lithuania this year it would be the basketball bronze in Turkey and the Béla Tarr visit in Kaunas." To punctuate the significance of this declaration Ilona says to me: "you should have seen what was happening here after the basketball!" But how exactly did they pull it off? Well, strong links with organisations in the Hungarian film industry (such as the Hungarian Institute in neighbouring Estonia) have helped, but the connection goes a little deeper: "We started our festival with a Hungarian movie in 2007, and now these institutions are happy with what we've done... this is why they've helped us get such a guest as Béla Tarr."



Ilona's considerable coup in attracting such a prestigious guest is made all the more extraordinary for happening in a former Soviet country with few remaining cinema screens and little local film industry. It hasn't been an easy task establishing the annual event and she explained how it was founded as part of an ongoing local battle to save the country's oldest cinema, Kaunas' own beautiful 1930s-built Romuva, from being turned into a casino. I interviewed her the evening she had won an important victory in securing the venue's long term future - and the next day was privileged to be able to undertake a tour of the building itself (along with Splendor co-host Jon Barrenechea, pictured with Ilona inside Romuva below). It seems it is hard to talk about the KIFF without talking also about Romuva.

"We started this festival, with friends, because of cinemas. Cinemas were being closed all over Lithuania. Different countries, at different times, had this wave of closing cinemas, but in Lithuania it happened after breakthrough." "Breakthrough" is what Lithuanians call the moment they declared Independence from the Soviet Union on March 11, 1990 (becoming the first nation to do so). Until breakthrough Lithuania's cinemas had been protected by state ownership and a Russian belief in the importance of the art form as an ideological weapon. But since independence the cinemas were in decline and, according to Ilona, "nobody was taking any notice." It was almost a decade ago that Ilona and her friends "decided to take an active position in this... we started this festival to draw attention from people all over Lithuania to the oldest cinema – Romuva."



Festival directors can be tricky people to interview. I tried to pin down Tony Jones whilst visiting his festival in Cambridge last month, but the job requires so much diplomacy (and many years spent building up relationships with distributors) that they are often understandably reluctant to speak candidly on the record. Ilona is no different, and it is clear whilst talking with her that a few of the subjects of our conversation are not really for public consumption. But she is friendly, polite and passionate about the event which, this year, is three times the size of its 2009 incarnation. And she has every reason to be proud. Just a couple of years ago the situation was a lot bleaker than it is now.

Ilona explains: "There were no screens. There were no Lithuanian films on screens. Lithuanians could not see them at all because the multiplexes did not think they'd be popular. There were no film critics. We'd get, from time to time, these meaningless press releases about a Lithuanian film playing in another festival, but we wouldn't have a chance to see it here." Yet now the KIFF is closer than ever to rescuing a small independent cinema and is screening a Lithuanian feature, 'Eastern Drift' (pictured below), as well as a number of short documentaries and animations. They are also beginning to capture the attention of national press - which is no mean feat outside of the country's capital, Vilnius.



It isn't just press interest that Ilona is keen to encourage, however. She has also been targeting local government, which has been another uphill struggle - but one she appears to be winning: "The first year was hard because nobody knew what we were talking about. I had to go around the town and tell people about the need for audio visual literacy, and it was incredible because politicians knew nothing about cinema: to them it was just Hollywood blockbusters. We invited them, but they wouldn't come very often. But slowly, every year, we get more interest." It has also been difficult to gain the attention of the local community, but Ilona insists "Kaunas is not easy to start moving: but once it falls in love, it falls in love totally. We hope to be an apprectiated event because we really take pride in what we do, so we hope we infect more people!"

However, there is no danger that Ilona will compromise her vision for the sake of easy popularity: "We are not very careful about making our programme amusing and funny, and one year a journalist said “you show so many tough films, will you make your programme funnier next year?” but we've given up on catering for this! So now our slogan this year is “we don't show special effects, we create them” [poster below]. We know we have a pretty tough programme, but we say “take it or leave it”. If it's not for you, it's not for you. But more and more people are joining! Maybe people are a bit tired of this candy look and approach and some people are looking for something real... I also think many people have this demand, but they don't realise it yet!"



So what does the future hold for the KIFF? Ilona is realistic, saying that "a film festival in such a small country as Lithuania is very hard to have such big ambitions". Yet the ambitions she does have are not too modest. As well as saving, renovating and eventually reopening Romuva, Ilona has some noble socially spirited goals: "we would like to create an atmosphere of audio visual literacy in the town. We'd like to have representatives of every film, lots of good seminars and discussions." Ilona places a real emphasis on educating people about the role film can play: culturally and socially. In fact, last year's slogan was appropriately enough “sometimes you have to go into darkness to see the light.” It appears that Ilona and her hard working team are moving in the right direction. "Lithuanian national film history is not yet written" she says. I for one wouldn't rule Ilona Jurkonyte's involvement when that day finally comes.

The 4th Kaunas International Film Festival is continuing in Kaunas until the 10th of October, before moving to Vilnius from the 11th to the 17th. Béla Tarr is attending from the 8th until the 11th.

Where I've been this last week + Flick's Flicks October

I've not updated here in almost a week, probably the longest the site has gone without any "content" since it started back in January this year. So I wanted to post this as a stop gap to provide my excuses.

Basically, since my last post I've been busily writing programme copy for the upcoming CineCity Film Festival. Then I attended one of Europe's youngest and most obscure festivals: Lithuania's Kaunas International Film Festival. I returned to England from that yesterday and today was occupied with interviewing Oliver Stone in London (for 'Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps') before watching 'Made in Dagenham'. Then tonight I worked the bar at the Duke of York's - returning to my day job.

October's edition of Flick's Flicks is up too. I am still hosting the show whilst regular host, Felicity Ventom, is on maternity leave - and I look set to continue into until the new year, which means I'll be recording two more episodes. Here is the latest:



Check back soon for reviews of Palm D'Or winner 'Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives' and Brit movie 'Made in Dagenham', as well as a interviews with Oliver Stone and Ilona Jurkonytė: the director of the Kaunas International Film Festival.