'Separado!' review: a cultural oddity in an experimental style...

Gruff Rhys, the man behind the Super Furry Animals, has co-directed, written and starred in a documentary so small that, at the time of writing, it is still "awaiting 5 votes" on the IMDB. That film is 'Separado!', a quirky little movie, less than an hour and a half long, which charts Rhys' journey from Wales to Patagonia (South Argentina) in search of his distant relatives who joined many hundreds of Welsh in emigrating to that part of the world in the late 19th century. On his journey, through Brazil as well as Argentina, Rhys traces the legacy of his Welsh ancestors and looks at the interesting musical hybrid between Latin and traditional Welsh music which can still be heard in parts of South America today.

It all started when Rhys saw an Argentinian gaucho singer named René Griffiths singing in Welsh on BBC Wales as a child. After finding that they were in fact related, the musician became interested in tracking down the man himself. On his journey to find René Griffiths, Rhys meets many other distant relatives and encounters a whole range of other musical performers, including a Brazilian musician who has invented his own instrument - a cross between a guitar and a drum machine. He also puts on several low-key concerts and looks a little bit at the cultural, historical and economic causes and effects of this strange chapter in Welsh history (which apparently played a key role in Argentinian history too - allowing the government to successfully claim the disputed South from neighbouring Chile).



On this trip we see that many Patagonian places have Welsh names and that many still speak the language. Rhys even manages to meet an old man who is closely and directly descended from the original Welsh settlers (who is also proudly in possession of the first organ brought to Argentina by these pioneers). Impressively, he does all of this speaking three languages over the course of the film, speaking Welsh, English and having a decent command of conversational Spanish to boot.

All of this is shown in a really surreal and unconventional way too, with Rhys teleporting himself between locations after donning a huge Power Ranger helmet, and with many bizarre and trippy musical interludes. In fact the film is as much about making music as it is about anything else. There is really nothing to criticise here. The film is barely long enough to get boring. The history is fascinating in itself and seeing the modern Welsh communities of Patagonia (and hearing their music) is an intriguing cultural oddity. Rhys comes across very well too, and spending time in his company is hardly a chore, even for someone who isn't a fan of his music, such as I (not because it's bad, but because I am not familiar with it).

Perhaps the movie could put many off with its unconventional and experimental form, but even then the chance to see this South American road trip is too good to miss. It also has a serious point, underneath all the quirky-ness, about how important it is to hold onto cultural identity - a fact which is perhaps more pressing today for Welsh-speakers than it was in the 1860s. There is also the brutal irony (not lost on the filmmakers), that in escaping persecution from the British, like many other colonials, the Welsh played a part in the persecution of another native people (in this case the Tehuelche, who were removed by the Argentine government now in control of the region). If you can find it playing and have even a minimal interest in any of the above, then there is probably something for you in 'Separado!'.

'Separado!' is so small it hasn't even been rated by the BBFC. But it can be found playing one-off shows at various cinemas, including many Picturehouses.

'Le Concert' review: If Jim Davidson could play violin...

'Le Concert', directed by the Jewish Romanian-born director Radu Mihaileanu, is a big cultural melting pot of a movie. On the surface (and from most posters) a French production boasting 'Inglourious Basterds' star Melanie Laurent, though many of the actors and much of the dialogue is Russian. Fitting then that the story concerns a once-great Orchestra conductor, Andreï Filipov (Aleksei Guskov), thrown out of the Bolshoi for standing up against racial intolerance towards Jews under Brezhnev. But, 30 years after the this injustice, Filipov intercepts an invitation to play in Paris, intended for the Bolshoi and resolves to take a rag-tag group of Russians, from all walks of life (including a wealthy oligarch), to France disguised as the professionals.

Yet, for a film which makes a feature of the fight against racially motivated intolerance, 'Le Concert' is pretty happy to indulge in stereotype. Uncomfortably so: the orthodox Jewish musicians miss practice because they are hawking their wares across Paris from out of a suitcase; the unskilled workers immediately leave the hotel and become illegal immigrants working menial jobs; the gypsies make their living from stealing and forging documents and an Arab restaurateur threatens one patron by saying "they call me Muhammad Al-Qaeda". Some may see this as a good-natured celebration of difference, but I couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably in my chair as racial caricature after racial caricature was exploited for humour in this movie which very quickly descends into farce.



'Le Concert' certainly thinks it is a comedy and it isn't afraid to go pretty broad with it. An oligarch's daughter's wedding is marred by an all-out gangland shootout, for example (which feels as misjudged and out of place as it sounds), whilst the gypsies fake 80-odd passports very publicly at an airport. Maybe this is a very broad cartoonish way of commenting on corruption and criminality in contemporary Russia, but it strains credibility. Especially as the film plays it relatively straight at other points. It is also a film which is terrifically critical of the old Soviet Union and communism, with plenty of jokes about the old regime, so adding that to the cynicism about the modern era, you get a film which is pretty nihilistic.

Melanie Laurent is the film's saving grace, as she has an intensity about her which is always stirring. She is one of those actors who can communicate so much with a subtle change of expression. Aleksei Guskov is also pretty good, always portraying his character with a touching sweetness as well as a dangerous obsession. But mostly everyone in 'Le Concert' shouts their lines at one another in a way which is very unappealing and engaging. It is a film which seems to hate Russian people. For example, when the 80-odd strong Orchestra arrives at their hotel they are all continuously shouting all at once, bursting through the doorway en masse and surrounding the hotelier, waving their arms in the air frantically. These people are idiots, their characters thinly drawn and unsympathetic and, as a result, their plight is uninteresting.



The film scooped several César awards earlier in the year, for Best Sound Design and Best Music, and these were probably deserved. The Tchaikovsky music performed at the titular concert is mesmerising and intense. The fact that the final scene is more or less a long unbroken musical performance is the film's strongest suit - and in that respect it ends of a high note (no pun intended). But for much of the film's running time, it is nothing more than a misfiring comedy of racial difference that feeds off the very intolerance it claims to be in opposition to. A woeful film.

'Le Concert' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is still on a limited release in the UK.

'Gainsbourg' review: Fun, imaginative, but insubstantial...

Most comic book adaptations are pretty far removed from their source material. There are a few notable exceptions to this. Frank Miller was credited as a co-director, along with Robert Rodriquez, for the almost shot-for-shot 2005 adaptation of his comic book 'Sin City'. Similarly, Daniel Clowes worked closely with director Terry Zwigoff in 2001, co-writing the adaptation of his own 'Ghost World'. But otherwise comic book movies (as diverse as 'X-Men', 'The Road to Perdition' and 'V for Vendetta') are a separate animal, sometimes even disowned by the comics original creator (see any Alan Moore adaptation). Usually, the rights to make the comic are purchased by a studio and somebody unconnected to the material is hired to make a movie. Sometimes, as with most superhero movies, only the characters - and possibly their origins - are retained, the plot lines often differing wildly from anything in the comics' own continuity.



But in France, the home of auteur theory, a couple of quirky, creator-led adaptations have come to cinemas in recent years. In 2007 Marjane Satrapi co-wrote and directed the quite brilliant animated version of her graphic novel 'Persepolis'. And now Joann Sfar has written and directed a biopic of the legendary French singer-songwriter, Serge Gainsbourg, based on his own comic book. And, just like Satrapi's film, 'Gainsbourg' is highly stylised, playful and experimental whilst never straying too far away from reality. So when Guillermo del Toro regular Doug Jones turns up in a bizarre costume representing both Gainsbourg's self-image and on-stage persona, it doesn't seem out of place. Nor does it seem in opposition to the performances from many of the quirky and eccentric supporting players such as Yolande Moreau (who has a small role as the singer and actress Fréhel).

For fans of post-war French popular music, I am sure 'Gainsbourg' is a must-see film, featuring lots of musical performances and with actors playing various singers the 50s up to the 80s including France Gall, Boris Vian, Juliette Gréco, Les Frères Jacques and, of course, Jane Birkin and Brigitte Bardot. However, as I personally know very little about Serge Gainsbourg or the wider French music scene, 'Gainsbourg' proved a fairly frustrating film. It is episodic, taking us from Serge's childhood up to near the end of his life, hardly stopping for breath along the way. Everything is painted in broad brushstrokes, scenes are brief sketches and icons are played as icons rather than real people. It is a film about myths which simply serves to repeat them. There is certainly fun to be had here, but there is no insight to be gained. Those in the know might appreciate the lightness of touch on show here, but I for one needed more of a context for each (seemingly unconnected) event.



"How popular is he at this point?" and "How did he go from writing songs for cabaret acts to sleeping with Brigitte Bardot?" were among the questions I was asking which went unanswered. When a record producer tells Gainsbourg and Birkin (played ably by the British Lucy Gordon who tragically committed suicide soon after the production finished shooting) that their new single "Je t'aime... moi non plus" will spark mass controversy, we are never shown the results. Refreshing brevity for those in the know, perhaps, but I needed a bit more information. It is a film made for fans - and that's fine - but don't expect to find out anything you couldn't glean from the man's wikipedia entry.

The film does make a connection between the central figure's adoption of his stage persona and his growing up Jewish in Nazi occupied France, suggesting that a degree of self-loathing manifested itself as bombast sophistication and self-conscious elegance. This is conveyed via Doug Jones' absurdist caricature costume representations of Gainsbourg, which interact with the real, more introverted version of the man (played an uncanny doppelganger in Eric Elmosnino) as well as with the other characters in each scene, crossing a line between fantasy and reality. The childhood scenes, in which young then Lucien Ginsburg (Kacey Mottet Klein) is followed around by a huge, Nazi propaganda-inspired caricature Jewish head, are a real highlight.



But in the end it is very much the breezy and whimsical comic book movie version of this icon's life. Not without some arresting visuals, imaginative touches and stirring renditions of classic pieces of kitsch pop (the enthusiastic, up tempo recital of 'Baby Pop' is a highlight). Sfar's film is willfully enigmatic, like the man himself - and I am sure that was the intention - but ultimately it made me hungry for a more in-depth look at Serge Gainsbourg's life and career. Maybe this renewed interest is the film's real achievement.

'Gainsbourg' is still playing in the UK and is rated '15' by the BBFC. It is doing fairly well in the UK too, and is still hanging on in the top ten.

'Giant Sand' tonight at the Duke's, plus moving house delays me seeing 'Toy Story 3'...

Aside from the being the oldest functioning cinema in the land, Brighton's Duke of York's Picturehouse also occasionally serves as a music venue. In the past year artists such as Duck Baker and 'Angus and Julia Stone' have taken the stage and tonight it is the turn of Arizona rock band 'Giant Sand'.

I have never seen them (or heard of them), but I am planning to go along tonight and check them out all the same... and you should too!

Anyway, not strictly film related, but I am moving house this week and so probably won't be updating very much at all. This is a shame as there are few films I look forward to more than those by Pixar and I would very much like to see and review 'Toy Story 3' this week. I'll see what happens. Failing that it will be reviewed next week at the latest! I can't wait. I have been a little sceptical since seeing an underwhelming clip at a Disney conference back in April. But almost everyone who has seen it seems to have loved it, so far, so I'm sure it will be good even if it isn't as great as 'Up' and 'Wall-E'.

Finally, I recorded the August edition of 'Flick's Flicks' yesterday with the smashing James Tucker. In it I previewed the August line-up coming to Picturehouse cinemas, including 'The Illusionist' (below), South Korean drama: 'Mother', 'The Girl Who Played With Fire' and 'Scott Pilgrim vs. the World'. Check it out when it is online at the start of next month.

Q&A with live silent film scoring quartet MINIMA

I have been lucky enough to do an e-mail Q&A with Alex Hogg from the brilliant band MINIMA, who specialize in performing live scores for silent films. I saw MINIMA when they performed at the Duke of York's, doing a score for the German Expressionist classic 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari' and was awestruck both by how much more effective such a film is with a good live score (becoming much more of an experience) and also by the fact that the group don't do silent film scores in the classic style (they don't use a piano or an organ at all, using drums and string instruments). Here is what Alex had to say to my blog:

When did you guys first hit upon the idea of scoring old, silent classics in this way?
Minima came out of an experimental project with the theatre collective Shunt. Being part of live theatre is very rewarding but ultimately restricts a band to the schedule of the theatre company. Moving to film was a logical step, especially given our love of film as well as music. One of the band members was working at the British Film Institute at the time and hit on the idea of silent film accompaniment. So in 2006 we played our first performances of The Seashell and the Clergyman, in the underground, labyrinthine corridors of the Shunt Vaults, underneath London Bridge station.

I was surprised there was no one at a piano. How did you decide to use such an unusual array of instruments for silent film scoring?
Our eclectic range of personal influences, gives us what we consider a unique take on silent film accompaniment. We can go from drum ‘n’ bass to tango, and from wall-of-sound to folk lament in the space of a few minutes. We are a four-piece outfit: drums, bass, guitar and cello and although we have no backing tracks and play with no pre-recorded sounds, the instruments are put through an array of effects to give us a very big palate of sounds and voices.

Have there ever been any silent movies that you wanted to do live scores for, which (for whatever reason) didn't work? Does German Expressionist cinema suit your style especially well?
We tend to be drawn to the darker side of cinema. We were commissioned to write a score to The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari by the Wellcome Trust in 2008 – they made the connection between the film’s angular stage sets and angst-ridden characters, and our music. But our own choices of film, such as Nosferatu, are edgy and dramatic - and Nosferatu is a great piece of cinema - as this is what inspires us. It also helps that this film is so well known; it is a real crowd-pleaser! It’s good to be asked to do something off your normal radar though – it’s surprising what you can come up with when you’re on unfamiliar ground. We have done a few improvised performances to British silent melodramas and we were very happy with what we came up with as a group when we were put on the spot. We are open to any genre of film and we would also love to work with contemporary filmmakers.

What makes a good silent movie score, in your view?
A good silent film score should not distract from what's happening on the screen - if the audience watch the band too much then it becomes about the band, and you lose the point, which is to watch the film. You have an element of power in performing to silent film: the music imposes a lot of the meaning upon the images, and it sets the tone and the mood for each scene. You have to strike a balance between having an understanding of what the filmmaker intended and having the confidence not to have to follow the images too slavishly. Films from the 1920s have a different pace, and for the uninitiated it can be hard work so a contemporary interpretation by musicians can really help. You can make people laugh, cry and jump out of there seats but we only do this in the name of accompanying the film and helping people to watch the film.

Which score are you proudest of?
Each of our scores has been approached in a different way. The Seashell and the Clergyman was our first and so we’re very fond of it and the attention to detail that we gave it. Nosferatu was written in much more collaborative way and features such a variety of different styles of music. It’s a real romp and matches the film, which is such a rollercoaster and full of now-iconic imagery. Dr. Caligari is in the Minima hot seat at the moment as we’ve just finished a two-month tour with it. We’re now turning our attention to brushing up our score for the Soviet science fiction silent film Aelita, Queen of Mars, which we’ll be playing at BFI Southbank in July.

You guys, obviously, perform live, but I was wondering if you've ever been commissioned to record a silent film score for a DVD release? I know silent movies often get re-scored for new releases.
This is something that's on the cards and we hope that before the end of the year that we might be in talks with DVD production companies to do just this. We have a couple of scores already recorded and ready to go!

Outside of your work, are there any old silent scores you are big fans of? I love Chaplin's 'Smile' from 'Modern Times', personally.
Our musical influences stem from all kinds of genres, as well as film soundtracks. Film composers that spring to mind are Bernard Herrmann, Carter Burwell and Danny Elfman rather than 1920s composers. We tend to write the music for its own sake and enjoy this creative process, rather than feel that we have to stick too closely to the images and the era they were made in.

MINIMA can often be seen touring the countries cinemas. Their current tour dates can be seen here.