For 51 weeks of the year you could be forgiven for thinking that Berliners would rather sit in their bathrobe drinking coffee at 11am than do any real work. Men in ties and women in powersuits is, thankfully, the exception rather than the norm. But during Berlinale is the only time when the city really ticks; go to Potsdamer Platz and it feels (and sounds) like New York. There is a buzz in the air, people are rushing to their next appointment, there is something going on… even if that next appointment is a film, there is business going on behind the scenes: 20,000 film professionals and 4,200 journalists are in town doing their thing.
Back on Potsdamer Platz on Friday, things were just kicking off. On a recommendation of a friend, I decided to check out LA JOURNÉE DE LA JUPE. Usually, films about earnest teachers trying to impart knowledge on students from depressed circumstances are things I try to steer clear of. This however was not going to be one of those stereotypical films. A rattled French teacher just trying to get through to anyone, breaks down when one of her charges brings a gun to school. Things develop in a slightly unexpected way, but the teacher, now with the gun and the power, is finally able to take control of the class and actually teach something.
Then City of Borders, put the gay community of Jerusalem and the West Bank under the microscope. The city’s only gay bar served as a meeting point for queers across the Israeli-Palestinian divide. It seemed that the bar did manage to unite the opposing sides in some way: Orthodox Jews, Muslims and fundamentalist Christians were able to unite in their hatred toward “the gay”.
And then late that night there was El Niño Pez. In short, rich girl falls in love with her maid, who seems to have several lovers of her own. I wasn’t convinced that the maid loves the rich girl. They make plans to run away together. Someone gets killed. The maid goes to prison. Lots of people die. The catalog’s comparison with Thelma and Louise never really takes off, I found myself wanting the film to end.
Never a good sign.
Saturday: Tram, movie (Pedro), subway, movie (An End of Love), subway, movie (Ghosted), subway, movie (Fucking Different Tel Aviv).
Sunday. Where did my weekend go, and I want/have to watch five films today.
Monday: Things are starting to run together. Was that a transgendered, transnational lesbian romance I saw that took place in Hong Kong and Hamburg? Or was a young Japanese student possibly haunted by her Taiwanese girlfriend? Did I see a young gay man try to escape his wild routine of drugs and partying by blocking out all human contact with those around him by wearing noise cancelling headphones? I need time to sort all this out, I need time to sort the documentaries from the mockumentaries, the reality TV from the movie made about a reality TV star from the made for TV movie.
So far I feel most impressed with Miao Miao. I can’t be sure if it is simply a bright spot on an otherwise rather bleak and depressing landscape. But I loved the giddy excitement of first love, and the tangled emotions that we all felt as we tried to work out for ourselves who was who and who liked what. I have never been a Taiwanese schoolgirl, but I could relate, somehow.
Tags: Berlinale 09
