Travelling to Venice + Day One (so far)

I have never been abroad before now. Well, with the exception of a school ski trip over a decade ago. Nor have I been on an aeroplane. So it is no wonder I am excited – even by the short monorail journey to Gatwick airport's Terminal N. As I tuck into some scrambled egg on toast at the terminal's branch of Weatherspoon's, I feel like this is somehow the perfect wave goodbye to England. If only it were goodbye. I finish my meal to find my flight is delayed by an hour. Welcome to air travel, I guess.

When it is finally time to board the plane, a BA flight to Venice and the film festival, I glimpse the unfashionable lounges which feel like a frozen piece of the 1980's. They are in stark contrast to the sterile, modern mall above – where I was able to purchase a copy of Murakami's Norwegian Wood, in anticipation of the adaptation screening the next day. The deeper I go into the airport, the less “special” I feel. On the train from Brighton I was thinking “these people don't know I'm going to Venice.” When I first entered the airport, I though “sure, these people are going somewhere, but it won't be as good as Venice.” But now, waiting to board the plane, I am all to aware that everyone is going to Venice. Irrationally, I start to resent everyone around me.

More so when they act as if it's entirely normal to hurtle 33,000 feet into the air in a metal cylinder. I'm looking out my window at the right wing, praying it doesn't explode, and then within minutes I am above the English channel, with the coasts of England and France within view. Yet the man in the seat in front hasn't looked up from The Spectator since we boarded the plane.

From the air, all Northern Europe looks identical: patchwork configurations of lush, green agricultural land, broken up by roads and the occasional river system. But it's spectacular. The pilot informs us of our course, saying we are flying over Luxembourg, heading towards Frankfurt, where we will make a right and head to Venice, passing over Stuttgart and Innsbruck and Verona. The the while, I am glued to the window and getting none of my reading done. Over Frankfurt, I can see what looks like a nuclear power station and a long, wide and winding river stretching off southwards as far as the eye can see, whilst over Stuttgart, the mighty football stadium is rendered laughably small, as are the autobahns. I feel like I bought tickets to a show called “Google Earth – LIVE!” and it's the best show I've ever seen.

Living in the city, you can come to imagine that we (humans) have destroyed the better part of our environment – paving it with concrete. When you travel by air you are reassuringly shown that this isn't the case. Which is not to say the landscapes were anything “natural” - obviously, the patches of farmland owe everything to the interference of man – but it is a comfort to know an aerial view of Europe is not yet grey. In fact, as things are, it is always a welcome sight to glimpse a city below.

Of course, capitalism does its best to ruin things – even this high above the clouds. British Airway's “High Life Shop” trolley comes around, offering the chance of duty free shopping whilst you fly (as if that time marooned at the airport, surrounded by digital cameras, perfume and cigarettes, wasn't enough). Quite why anyone would fancy buying a bottle of Channel No.5 or Grouse Whiskey from a cart on the plane, is anyone's guess. Sure, the alps are coming into view below, the majestic peaks of the mountains, breaching the clouds in a way I can only describe as painfully beautiful, but sure. Go shopping.

The alps are genuinely magnificent. Especially when we pass over a green, forested valley, with a lake at its center and now atop its peaks. For a time over the mountains, nothing is visible but the thickest clouds. But even this has its own beauty to it.

Landing in Venice, I was surprised to find how comforted I was by familiarity. Upon leaving the airport, I was greeted by a huge banner with the Barcelona football team – comprised of South Americans, Africans and Europeans - on it (advertising a Turkish airline in Italian – if ever there was a better example of internationalism: I haven't seen it). I saw a BMW dealership, a bus advertising Camp Rock 2 and, later in my hotel room, saw Maroon 5 on Italian MTV.

The overall theme seemed to be “we're all the same”. Of course, I'd always known that in a glib, liberal, humanist sort of way – but I was struck by how true it really is. Seeing everywhere from Kent to Venice, more or less looking the same from the air, was both disappointing and reassuring. As was seeing that Italian roadsides are no more glamorous than British ones and that Italian infants are no less annoying on public transport then our own. It was all curiously life affirming. I have a theory that if everyone was sent into space for ten minutes to look at, and contemplate, the earth: it would end all conflict. Maybe that's bullshit, but the farther you zoom out, surely the more trivial disputes come to seem and differences come to seem smaller too.

Anyway, enough sanctimonious preaching. After landing in Venice I was struck by the fact that in every direction and round every corner is something beautiful. Ridiculously beautiful. Take the most amazing building you've seen in London and surround it with a thousand more just as nice or nicer: this is Venice. I took a lot of photos at first (which annoyingly this notebook I am borrowing won't let me upload) but I had to stop. I realised, if I take pictures of every thing of beauty I encounter: I won't have time to do anything else.

So, first evening in Venice, thanks to the delay of the flight I missed the early showing of the new Donnie Yen movie, which I said I might try to see (though the next day I saw the man himself). Instead I caught up with Jon (Splendor Cinema) and drank strange and potent Lithuanian liquors with a array of beautiful people from all over Europe (I was the only Brit and the only person with only one language, among over 100 people). I took several Vaparetto rides around the city and saw the sunset over the domed skyline. Wonderful already.

I will now go downstairs and have my first Italian breakfast at my hotel. Which is run by an Indian bloke called Roy, who is fluent in Indian, Italian, English, German, Spanish and French, no less....

... that was this morning's entry, but I couldn't post it (no internet for me unless I'm in the press area at the Lidocasino). Since then I have seen the amazing 'Black Swan' - the new film by Darren Aronofsky's new film. It blew me away totally. I wrote a quick-fire first impression on my blackberry and sent it to my editor at Obsessed with Film and he put it up. It then got quoted by another site pretty soon afterwards! Anyway, full review to follow. I then went to the press conference with the director and stars Natalie Portman and Vincent Cassel, which I will also write up later for OWF.

After that: the perfect antidote for 'Black Swan'. A really naff Chinese comedy called 'Showtime'. It was a light-hearted film with one eye on the 'Step Up'/'Street Dance' audience, an obvious influence in the direction and choreography. Very weird, involving time travel and super powers of some kind. I really didn't understand it, I guess. But most people seemed to share that feeling, with a packed auditorium being way under half full by the film's end, with walk outs visible throughout. I hope director, Stanley Kwan, wasn't there!

Now I'm off to see if I can score some 'Machete' tickets for midnight's world premiere. Wish me luck!

67th Venice International Film Festival

Tomorrow I set off for Venice to attend this year's Film Festival which runs from September 1st to 11th. On behalf of Obsessed With Film and the Picturehouse Blog, I am going to be reporting from the festival, writing reviews and hopefully interviewing people too. My Splendor Cinema podcast co-host, Jon Barrenechea, is also there on separate business, so we should also be recording a couple of new episodes whilst there. As a big Kurosawa fan, I can't wait to attend (for the first time) the festival which is so often credited with bringing him - and Japanese cinema in general - to wider Western attention, after they famously awarded 'Rashomon' the prestigious Golden Lion award in 1951. Last year's recipient was Sam Maoz for the superior Israeli war film 'Lebanon'.

Among the big films competing for this year's Golden Lion are Sophia Coppola's 'Somewhere' (pictured above), Takeshi Mike's '13 Assassins' (which screens the day I leave - on the 9th!), Tom Tykwer's 'Drei' (which plays after I have left) and Darren Aronofsky's 'Black Swan'. Though, after the little-fancied Thai film 'Uncle Boonmee' was picked as the surprise winner of the Palme d'Or at Cannes earlier in the year, it is hard to say who the Quentin Tarantino led jury will plumb for. Possibly something similarly oblique will be crowned the winner - such as the Japanese drama 'Norwegian Wood' (pictured below), adapted from the best selling novel by Haruki Murakami. This is one of the reasons why I am going to try to see every 'in competition' film I am able to. I'm probably going to see four to five films a day as I try to avoid missing THE film.



I will try to see a few 'out of competition' movies as well though. 'I'm Still Here', Casey Affleck's much-anticipated documentary/mocumentary about the transition from actor to rapper of Joaquin Phoenix. It isn't really known how serious this film is as of yet (is it a joke? Is Phoenix serious?) and, I have to admit, I've been sucked into the hype on this one. Ever since the 'Gladiator' stars's bizarre interview on Letterman I've been curious. Elsewhere, Casey's older brother, Ben, is debuting crime thriller, 'The Town', which he directs and stars in alongside Jeremy Renner, Rebecca Hall and Jon Hamm. Whilst, the late Dennis Hopper is being honoured with a screening of his little seen follow-up to 'Easy Rider', 1971's ill-fated 'The Last Movie'. It is on at midnight so provided I can still get a boat back to the city after the screening, I would very much like to see that one too.

For whatever reason, some of the 'out of competition' films are showing the evening I arrive, before the festival officially kicks off. So I may see the Andrew Lau ('Young and Dangerous') directed 'Legend of the Fist: The Return of Chen Zhen', starring Donnie Yen, tomorrow. If I get settled in ok and can find the cinema! I will probably miss the retrospective on Italian comedy, the celebratory screenings of the work of John Woo (who is being honoured this year) and the short films - but I will try to fit in anything I can. So check back here, and on those other sites I mentioned, to get the latest from the 67th Venice International Film Festival.

'The Girl Who Played With Fire' review:

In my review of the first of the Swedish-made adaptations from Stieg Larsson's Millennium Trilogy, 'The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo', I remarked that its original Swedish title ('Men Who Hate Women') was perhaps a better fit with the material. Certainly that film saw the hacker-punk heroine, Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), repeatedly sexually assaulted, raped and otherwise kicked around – the violence depicted with unflinching grit and unsettling realism. True, the film also allowed Salander to enact extreme and brutal revenge on her rapist. But in the main, Salander is a women beaten and abused with uncustomary regularity – at least for a leading lady.

Well the sequel, 'The Girl Who Played With Fire', allows Salander to exact a little more pain on her (male) assailants. She knees them in the balls, tasers them (also in the balls), shoots them, threatens to hang them, and so on. And the men deserve it, such as they are here. Or at least that is what we are so clearly being telegraphed to think. One man - who has paid for sex with prostitutes and so is evil - is easily distracted as he talks to Salander's friend, ace investigative journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist), eying up a jogger and then a young mother as she pushes in baby along in a stroller. Men in this world are sleazy characters who deserve the roughest treatment, and often receive it to our vengeful satisfaction.



It is strangely reminiscent of Tarantino's 'Kill Bill' in some respects. Obvious plot parallels include the fact that Lisbeth has been sexually assaulted and takes the law into her own hands, as well as the fact that this film features a scene in which she is buried alive. But it is also reminiscent of Tarantino by way of its old testament bloodlust and in the way that it equates literal female strength with female empowerment. It is, much like 'Kill Bill', a film written and directed by men who (in my view erroneously) believe they are acting as equal opportunity crusaders. Instead they are simply perpetuating violence and playing up to the worst aspects of human nature: showing them on the screen and appealing to those instincts in the audience.

Perhaps one way in which this film is unique, is in its completely de-sexualized depiction of Rapace's character. She is tough, resilient, cold: seldom smiling and seemingly unable to take any joy from life. Even during sex scenes she is never presented to us as an object of desire. This is brave and certainly sets this film, and this character, apart from the likes of Uma Thurman's heroine in 'Kill Bill' - who more traditionally plays up to a male fantasy image. However, this does help to make Lisbeth fairly unappealing as a character. There is no beauty in the film, and no humour at all. There is no lightness here to counteract the shade, no relief from the constant onslaught of nasty, perverted men. This world is so ugly that it is hard to understand why anyone would want to survive in it to begin with. There is no humanity and the characters are less than two-dimensional. Sure, Lisbeth has a "back story" and with it a straightforward psychological justification for her actions. But nobody else, especially the antagonists, can make any claim to depth.



On the positive side, this sequel is marginally less dull than its predecessor, although it is still overlong and suffers from monumental pacing problems (it takes around 40 minutes before Lisbeth is falsely accused of murder: the central plot catalyst this time around). It is also less TV-like in its aesthetic, possibly aided by the change of director, with Daniel Alfredson (brother of 'Let the Right One In' helmer, Tomas Alfredson) stepping in. It is also less of a formulaic "whodunit", detective story. That element remains, of course, with Blomqvist frantically trying to prove that Lisbeth is not the killer. But this film is more full of action and incident. There are many more fights, there is a car chase and a genuinely tense and gripping finale (or I imagine it would have been had I cared about any of the characters at that point).

Whilst the first film felt like it could have been a one-off episode of a detective series - albeit with much more graphic sex and violence than you'd usually find watching Angela Lansbury - this film feels much more like part of a longer story. It leads neatly into the upcoming film ('The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest') with an 'Empire Strikes Back' style ending, and follows on from a few threads established during the first. But, for me, 'The Girl Who Played With Fire' is an ugly film about a deeply unsympathetic character who at times seems only a second away from becoming Jigsaw or 'Se7en's John Doe - she is certainly capable of being just as sadistic as the men she despises. For some that maybe the appeal. Lisbeth is certainly not a fragile victim and she gives as good as she gets. But, call me old fashioned, I'd sooner not get my kicks from seeing men or women taking theirs.

'The Girl Who Played With Fire' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is out on general release across the UK.

'Scott Pilgrim vs. the World' review: A beautifully realised and imaginative love letter to youth...

"Ramooooonaaaa" sings Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) to the object of his exaggerated and overzealous affection, Ramona Flowers. It is the only word, repeated over and over, in a heartfelt ballad he plays her on guitar. Edgar Wright's third film 'Scott Pilgrim vs. the World' operates in much the same way as this song over its brisk 112 minute running time. It is a heartfelt paean to youth and to those fleeting and ultimately trivial, but nevertheless extreme, outbursts of emotion. To that anguish that felt so real at the time. To that bottomless heartache and empty despair. And equally, to that joyous and unselfconscious sense that everything is awesome. But the film does not trivialise these feelings and instead Wright transports us back to that time and place in all of our lives - in a stylish and hyperactive flurry of bright colours and loud sounds.

'Scott Pilgrim' is a somewhat impressionistic vision of youth, viewed through the prism of the protagonists interests. These happen to be video games and rock music and so we see his world through this lens. It is a world with explodes with geekish detail and where even the smallest movements are rendered dynamic and exciting. The film is adapted from a six-volume comic book series by Bryan Lee O'Malley and Edgar Wright does well to capture this spirit. Think of the film as a sunnier, funnier cousin of Robert Rodriquez's 'Sin City', as Wright has seemingly also used the comic book itself as a direct reference point for storyboards, with some shots matching their corresponding panel exactly.



For those that don't know by now, 'Scott Pilgrim' is the story of a Canadian twenty-something in a garage band who falls for the new girl in town. However, this romance is complicated by the fact that this girl has "seven evil exes" who Pilgrim must defeat if he is to survive and (more importantly) win his girl's heart. These fights involve mystical powers (such as vegan telepathy) and video game-style power-ups (such as a large pixelated hammer) and see Pilgrim face-off against a terrific supporting cast which includes the one-time Superman, Brandan Routh, and the current Captain America, Chris Evans (no, not that one), as well as Jason Schwartzman.

On top of this, Pilgrim must break-up with his "fake high school girlfriend", Knives Chau (Ellen Wong). Much like Wright's previous films 'Shaun of the Dead' and 'Hot Fuzz' (not to mention the TV series 'Spaced'), 'Scott Pilgrim' is filled with in-jokes and references to other films. Wright has already demonstrated his love for parody of genre conventions in all of the above and continues to do so here. But there is a new source of reference material Wright is free to mine here: video games.



From the brilliance of the 8-bit rendition of the Universal Pictures logo that opens the film, to the Super Mario reference in Scott's band's name (Sex Bob-Omb), to the Legend of Zelda music which accompanies one poignant emotional scene, Wright does mine this rich seam fully. In some ways it is probably the best video game adaptation ever, in that the spirit of games is really recreated here. The fights themselves each take the form of a different video game genre too: the Katayanagi twins are fought in a Pokemon-style brawl; one fight is a Guitar Hero inspired "Bass Battle"; another takes the form of a skateboarding game; and the opening bout is more in line with something like Street Fighter or Tekken.

And Wright doesn't stick to well-known games either, as the final fight sequence seems to be directly inspired by the cult Wii title No More Heroes, with Pilgrim brandishing a lightsabre-style sword as he shatters his besuited foes into showers of sparkling coins. That game like 'Scott Pilgrim', perhaps coincidentally, also involves the checking of enemies off a numbered list. It's a geeks paradise and I'm sure a more avid gamer than myself would find some reference or other in every single frame. But it is the sort of film where it doesn't matter particularly if you don't get every joke. It is pretty rapid fire and if you miss a few you'll doubtless get the next one ten seconds later.



The standout aspect of the film is doubtlessly the visuals, which are detailed, almost beyond precedence, certainly for a live-action film. Ramona's roller-skates melt the snow instantly on contact (just as she melts poor Scott's heart). The promotional posters for the various fictional bands are authentic looking and do well to create a tangible world, albeit one larger than life and steeped in fantasy. Chris Evans' character is a Hollywood action hero and we see not only a great number of blink-and-you-miss-them mock film posters, but also a short segment from one of his films ("the first click you hear is me hanging up. The second one is me pulling the trigger"). During one fight, in an empty nightclub, a villain's psychic energy forces the discarded plastic beer tumblers out of his radius. It has the feel of a film which will reward repeat viewing for the eagle-eyed obsessive.

I'm sure 'Scott Pilgrim' is destined to become some people's favourite film. Their is certainly a very specific niche of people who will totally "get it", although cross-over appeal seems limited. The opening grosses in the US have been fairly disappointing and it remains to be seen whether UK audiences will flock to it in greater numbers. Personally, I only laughed a couple of times, and more in recognition of a joke than because it split my sides. But I was never bored and I feel like I can appreciate what this film is trying to do. It is more imaginative, more colourful and more beautifully realised than most films. The only thing I would go so far as to say I disliked was the ending, which felt tampered with and like the result of too much testing. The film gears up to end one way, only to then lose courage and retreat into a more familiar comfort zone. But this aside, 'Scott Pilgrim vs. the World' (whilst not quite a perfect "K.O") is a quite unique and broadly stylised celebratory tribute to youth and love and video games... and being awesome.

'Scott Pilgrim vs. the World' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is on general release across the UK from Friday the 27th of August.

Satoshi Kon (1963-2010): Anime director loses battle with cancer at 46

The world of animation has been rocked by news of the sudden death of the pioneering Japanese director Satoshi Kon, who died of pancreatic cancer at the age of 46 yesterday.

Kon was the anime equivalent of Charlie Kaufman, his four finished films were multi-layered and their concerns were generally introspective and psychological, with questions of identity usually in the foreground. In no film was this more apparent than in his most recent finished film: 2006's 'Paprika'. Four years before Nolan's 'Inception', 'Paprika' involved a device that allowed people to enter other people's dreams and the film blurred the lines between the dreamworld and reality.



But the anime film-maker had played with similar themes since his 1997 debut as a director, 'Perfect Blue', which amidst the now familiar questions of identity also explored celebrity and the (then) new dangers presented by Internet chat rooms. A Hitchcockian thriller, 'Perfect Blue' follows a young J-Pop star as she decides to change her image and try to make a living as a serious actress. A fact which angers some of her fans.



Then came perhaps his seminal work: 'Millennium Actress', released in 2001, was the story of an old actress looking back at her life through the parts she played, with reality and fiction becoming blurred. The actress, who has not been interviewed in years and has completely retired from public life, was loosely based on Setsuko Hara - the actress most famous for her starring role in Ozu's so-called Noriko trilogy of the 40s and 50s. The film plays with genre as a number of different epoch's of Japanese cinema are lovingly recreated, from Ishiro Honda-style monster movies to 'Throne of Blood' era Kurosawa pictures.



2003 saw a slight departure, with the release of 'Tokyo Godfathers', the story of three homeless people who come across an abandoned baby one Christmas and resolve to find her parents. There is one brief dream sequence and one of the homeless could be said to be in conflict with their own identity (the homosexual male Hana wishing to be the child's mother), but otherwise 'Tokyo Godfathers' is slightly more grounded in a solid reality compared to his other work - at least until the buildings start dancing over the end credits. Instead, much in the same way that 'Perfect Blue' and 'Millennium Actress' looked at issues of fame and celebrity, 'Godfathers' subtly questions Japanese society and its attitudes towards those who slip through the net. This isn't done via any grand soliloquy, but rather it is demonstrated by some of the obstacles that come between the trio and their goal. As Hana recites a number of Haiku, which enter the frame in elegant calligraphy, perhaps Kon was also satirising the Japanese traditions of formal beauty which exist in contrast to the reality of these people's lives.



Sandwiched between this oddity and the more conventionally Kon-esque 'Paprika' was the dynamic and experimental television series 'Paranoia Agent', a story of a mysterious, possibly imagined, juvenile thug told over thirteen episodes and from the perspective of as many characters. Kon saw the show as a way to make something which could utilise a number of his ideas which he felt did not fit into any of his features, and as such the show is richly filled with imaginative and memorable scenes.



Kon was known to be working on a fifth feature film, known as 'The Dream Machine', up until his death. It remains unclear whether this project will surface and in what form. Hopefully the late animator had finished the project, which he described thusly:

On the surface, it's going to be a fantasy-adventure targeted at younger audiences. However, it will also be a film that people who have seen our films up to this point will be able to enjoy. So it will be an adventure that even older audiences can appreciate. There will be no human characters in the film; only robots. It'll be like a "road movie" for robots

But whatever comes of 'The Dream Machine', Kon's legacy is not only the great imagination and psychological depth of his four existing films, but also the tone. Kon's work is an antidote to anyone who thinks anime is about cute, fetishistic school girls dancing around with giant robots, or whatever. Kon's films took a serious, gritty, non-exploitative tone and dealt with subjects usually found in live-action, but which could not have been realised in live-action (at least not without a huge budget). He used animation to the fullest and exploited all its possibilities in a way seldom seen inside of Japan or out.

And yet Kon is almost always overlooked when naming the great contemporary animators. When the definitive book is written on the last twenty years of animation, and sections are being given to Hayao Miyazaki, Sylvain Chomet, Brad Bird, Michel Ocelot, John Lasseter, Jan Švankmajer, Richard Linklater and Nick Park - let us hope space is reserved for Satoshi Kon. A true visionary and a master animator and a life cut tragically short. Tonight I will raise a glass to Kon-san.

'The Illusionist' review: a slight and melancholy animation from a modern master...

Fans of Sylvain Chomet's surreal 2003 animated feature 'Belleville Rendez-vous' will not be surprised to find his follow-up, 'The Illusionist', is a melancholic, mostly silent tale with an old-fashioned sensibility and a penchant for physical comedy. What this latest feature does, however, is take Chomet's obvious Jacques Tati influence to a new extreme. Whereas 'Belleville Rendez-vous' was full of playful allusions to the celebrated comedy film-maker (such as a poster for 'Les Vacances de M. Hulot' - a gag he repeats here), 'The Illusionist' goes one step further with the titular character bearing Tati's real surname (Tatischeff), and aping his mannerisms and appearance. It is also, most importantly, based on a long-forgotten and previously un-filmed screenplay written by Tati himself. And so 'The Illusionist' is, in its quirky, surreal way, a slightly more grounded film than his first as it functions as a sort of loose biography of Tati's bittersweet relationship with his own daughter (the late Sophie Tatischeff - to whom the film is fittingly dedicated).

If you have ever left a movie derisively declaring that "nothing happened", then it is safe to say that 'The Illusionist' is not going to be your idea of a fun time. The "plot" is slight: set in the 1950's an aging magician finds his act no longer appeals to people in an age of rock n' roll and television. But when he plays a remote Scottish island he finds a new fan in the form of a young girl who comes to believe he is genuinely magical. Perhaps beguiled by the young girl's sincerity and good nature, or possibly just because he has found an appreciative audience, the magician takes the girl under his wing and, like Chaplin in 'City Lights', has to work menial jobs in secret in order to maintain his increasingly expensive illusions - lest the girl learn the truth. This is essentially it. But this is enough. It is a serene film which takes you across the Scottish countryside and into a beautifully realised picture of 1950's Edinburgh (the city where Chomet's Django Studios is actually based).



It is a film which you can relax and enjoy as it washes over you. It is calming and purely joyful - that is, at least until its poignant and sombre conclusion, which is pitched perfectly. Whilst it never caused me to well up in the way something like 'Up' did, it still provided much to think about. Perhaps it is a film that asks you to be more reflective than reactive. It certainly isn't shamelessly manipulative like 'Toy Story 3'. I wouldn't like to spoil the ending, but I'll just say that there is a bit of business involving a pencil at the film's climax which is on the level of genius. It is also nice to see another traditionally animated film in 2010.

I have nothing against computer-generated animated films. However, in the last decade they had come to supersede all other forms of animation. But now that Disney have returned to hand-drawn and good stop-frame films like 'Coraline' and 'Fantastic Mr. Fox' are being made, Chomet's film is another reason to be cheerful for fans of the art form. There is some distracting CGI in 'The Illusionist' that seems to harken back in early 90s Disney, notably the cars, trains and one ill-conceived aerial shot of Edinburgh, but generally it is one of the nicest looking animated films you will ever see. To say it is charming is to revert to a wet cliché, but it is exactly that. Especially in its loving detail, which includes an accurate reproduction of the inside of Edinburgh's own Cameo Picturehouse, among other things.



It is true that the characters are broad caricatures (much like they would have been in one of Tati's own films), with a be-kilted, drunken Scotsman, a fat opera-singer and a number of unflattering depictions of the teeth of British aristocratic stock, but there is no malice here. In fact there is great humanity in the film, which also depicts a number of other vaudevillian entertainers now tragically down on their luck, such as a suicidal clown and a homeless ventriloquist forced to pawn his dummy.

'The Illusionist' is not just light entertainment, but it is a poignant and mournful love letter to a long-dead world of light entertainment (reminiscent of another Chaplin feature: 'Limelight'). In recent years Pixar have lead the way in addressing the fears of aging, of loss and of growing obsolete, in films as diverse as 'The Incredibles', 'Finding Nemo' and, of course, 'Up'. But what is brave about Chomet's film is that he is prepared to end on that particular note of melancholia. Though with animation this beautiful, Chomet is certainly keeping the wonder and the magic of Jacques Tati alive.

'The Illusionist' is rated 'PG' by the BBFC and is currently playing across Picturehouse cinemas, including Brighton's Duke of York's.

'Ajami' review: Israel's answer to 'City of God'...

If you had to take a wild guess at what feature triumphed in the best film category at last year's at Israel's national film awards - the Ophirs - you'd most likely go for Sam Maoz's 'Lebanon', the Golden Lion winning film entirely set within the claustrophobic confines of a tank during the 1982 war with that country. But you'd be wrong. Triumphing instead was Israel's own answer to Brail's 'City of God' and Italy's 'Gomorra', a harrowing and realist portrayal of life in a poor Jaffa neighborhood called 'Ajami'.

Split between five interconnecting chapters, which each show a different aspect of life in the city from a different character's point of view, the film has an ambition and a broadness of scope which make it feel almost like the opposite extreme to the tightly wound 'Lebanon', with its restricted viewpoint. But in actuality the two films aren't miles apart. Both are visceral, gritty and feel authentic and both portray the conflict in the region from a humanistic standpoint, whilst neither is overtly political. And as Maoz based his film on personal experiences as a young conscript soldier, 'Ajami' is also deeply personal to its directors.



Co-directed by a Palestinian (born in Ajami) and an Israeli Jew, in the form of Scandar Copti and Yaron Shani, 'Ajami' seems accurate in its portrayal a cross-cultural melting pot that sees Jews living alongside Muslims and Christians and where a grasp of both Arabic and Hebrew is essential to survive. So too is crime, as almost all the protagonists must break the law in order to make ends meet. One family is forced into thievery and drug dealing in order to pay off a debt to a powerful clan of gangsters. Another reluctantly turns to crime in order to pay for an operation for his terminally ill mother (admittedly, a somewhat hackneyed subplot). The Jewish police have to combat the Arab residents distrust and accusations of incompetence from wealthier citizens. In many ways it is like watching the Middle Eastern equivalent of an episode of 'The Wire'.

'Ajami' is an accomplished feature film debut from Copti and Shani. It is a polished film with a solid cast (including many non-actors) and its subject matter is certainly worthy of cinema. However, it is so much like those other films about criminality in poor and undeveloped, urban areas that it is questionable how trailblazing it is. Perhaps this similarity is part of a broader, more vital moral: that people are the same around the world and that poverty is the route of crime and intolerance. But in of itself 'Ajami' is indistinct in terms of its aesthetic or its take on the sub-genre. For that reason my vote would certainly have gone to 'Lebanon': a more original film. Though 'Ajami' is certainly no less compelling viewing.

'Ajami' is on very limited release in the UK and is rated '15' by the BBFC.