In what some have hailed as a de facto prequel to The Baader-Meinhof Complex, Andres Veiel’s film If not us, who? explores the relationships between Gudrun Ensslin, Bernward Vesper, and Andreas Baader during the turbulent 60s in post-war Germany. You’d expect a film about three notable figures in German history to be dramatic and thought-provoking. Unfortunately, I found it clumsy and lacking in direction. And kind of boring.

A high-level summary of the film might go something like this: we watch seemingly random scenes from the lives of Gudrun Ensslin (Lena Lauzemis) and Bernward Vesper (August Diehl). Every now and then, some archival footage of the events of this time (including JFK’s ‘Ich bin ein Berliner’ moment) are used as—what, time markers to progress the film? A reminder that these people really existed and these events really happened? Then Baader enters the scene, a little eye candy in the likes of Alexander Fehling (even with the eyeliner in the drag club). A baby is born, a few bombs go off, and then the film ends, with just a few lines of text on the screen to explain the rest of their lives.

The protagonist of the film is meant to be Bernward Vesper, son of the Nazi poet Will Vesper (Thomas Thieme). Will was a noted supporter of Hitler, a fact that plagues Bernward in a sensitive time when the Germans struggle with the guilt and shame of the recent events; however, as the film progressed, I found myself more interested in Ensslin. Even then, her story disappointed, not so much in the way that her life was boring (it was anything but boring), but in the way that it was told.

We learn about her family, some members of which struggle with mental handicap, but this does not add much to the film. We watch her attempt suicide at one stage, and then continually hurt herself when Vesper cheats on her, but again, of what consequence? And what was surprising was that Ulrike Meinhof did not feature at all in this film. As mentioned before, this film seemed to focus on random moments in their lives. What made those moments any more interesting than the others that were omitted? Nothing, as far as I could tell.

A film about figures in history should always be told as if the audience has absolutely no idea who the people are and what their significance in history is. Even documentaries, which are often dismissed as boring, provide clear reasoning and smooth transitions between important moments in time to show audiences what happened, when it happened, and why. Unfortunately, If not us, who? was a confusing series of events, which might have been more easily understood if we were already well-versed in the story of the Red Army Faction. But you can’t expect that of a cinema audience about any event in history, let alone this one.

At 124 minutes, the film is pretty standard in length. But with no real momentum, and no climax, it felt much longer. Yet because I was waiting for something to happen, the ending still felt abrupt.

Diehl, Lauzemis, and Fehling are terrific actors, and I can’t complain about any of the supporting cast. But terrific acting cannot save a poor script lacking clarity and direction.

Of the three films I watched this past weekend, unfortunately, If not us, who? was the least interesting. It was given the 8:30pm time slot as part of the Audi Festival of German Films, which I think was an unfortunate waste.

When Austrian TV host Hanna (Sophie Rois) starts having an affair with scientist Adam (Devid Striesow), she doesn’t realise that her partner of almost 20 years, Simon (Sebastian Schipper), is also having an affair. Strangely enough, the affair that Simon is having is also with Adam. This coincidental love triangle is the subject of Tom Tykwer’s 2010 film, Three, which screened on Sunday 22 April as part of the Audi Festival of German Films. I must admit that, because I lived and worked in Germany, I have a biased affinity for almost everything that comes out of that country. But this film really is mature, evocative, and sophisticated.

The film starts out in a typically Tykwer fashion: three performers dressed in black dance on an endless white stage in a silent depiction of the story to come. Then, the camera (on what we presume to be an S-bahn) follows two power lines and we hear someone’s voice. That voice belongs to Simon, and a scene change allows us to enter this post-coital conversation that he is having with Hanna. This is followed by a montage of split screen images depicting their relationship slowly falling into a rut in beautiful, busy Berlin. Very art-house, very cool, very European.

Tykwer does well to build tension in small amounts throughout the film. The anticipation of the unwitting threesome finally meeting is incredible. As well, the repeated themes of cancer, new beginnings after the end, and the number three are well integrated with the plot. Tykwer even manages to thread some humour into the film, with Rois’ character proving to be lighter and more humane than the opening scenes would have her appear.

In this film, Tykwer explores what is essentially an old theme with a modern, intelligent lens, beautifully juxtaposing the fluidity of art with the reason of science. But the film is not without its flaws. The film edges on preachy, particularly when Adam tells Simon to say goodbye to ‘biological determinism’ when Simon questions his attraction to Adam.

Simon’s Amélie-esque vision of his mother as an angel almost ruins the atmosphere by being too cartoonish and whimsical (well, as whimsical as a dead mother can be). Other imagination scenes, including one in black and white, are mismatched to the rest of the film, and disturb the continuity. And when the trio finally realises exactly what is going on, the plot fizzles with a disappointingly Hollywood ending that is just a little bit too convenient for my liking.

Still, as a package, the film was original and evocative enough for me to be entranced for most of the time, especially with a superb soundtrack.

No stranger to acclaim, Tykwer won Best Director for this film. The film also garnered four other wins (including Best Actress) and eight nominations at various film festivals internationally.

Despite the ending, I recommend Three to anyone who won’t squirm at the sight of a surgically removed testicle. The Audi Festival of German Films is not screening Three again, but it is already out on DVD. See the trailer here.

So I’m meant to write about the opening night party of the Brisbane Queer Film Festival (BQFF), which was held at the Brisbane Powerhouse on Friday 13 April, but the don’t-know-when-to-say-when weakling in me couldn’t hold my liquor that night, and I must confess with sheer embarrassment that I went home at a laughable 12:00 a.m. (Sorry for the upchuck on the 199.)

Still, I recall most of the evening. Unfortunately, I recall being a little disappointed. The hungry and thirsty cheapskate in me thought that there’d be free canapés (at least) and drinks, while the ignorant heterosexual in me thought that it would’ve been louder, wilder, camper, queerer. An unfair expectation based on stereotypes? Maybe … probably … definitely. I mean, at the opening night party of last year’s German film festival, I certainly didn’t expect a Bavarian polka band to provide schunkeln music for partygoers. (They did provide food and drink though, so Cheapskate-Me had a bit of a point.)

I have pretty much nothing to do with the LGBTIQ scene. (I’m informed that the last two letters are actually reversed, but a Google search will yield both, and more, initialisms.) So of course I went to the opening night party with a naïve preconception of how the night would go. If I ignored the fact that it’s a queer film festival, I probably would have thought it was as successful as any other opening night party. People were socialising with their friends, and popular DJ Ish was performing to a packed dance floor. Did I expect something of Mardi Gras proportions, complete with parade?

I think that’s the point of having a queer film festival though—to show others what their community is like, and to break the stereotypical views that people like me might have. Indeed, the film lineup looks interesting, spanning many genres. A colleague who was lucky enough to preview the German film Romeos said that it was ‘so freaking good’. So, disappointment with the party aside, I’m keen to check out some of these films. I’m also keen to learn more about this community in general, so that I am less ignorant.

Obviously films have already begun but there are still plenty of days and films left. Tickets start from $14, and there are money-saving packages with delightfully suggestive names like Fanny Pack and Packed Lunch. Get going! The festival ends on Sunday 22 April.

Image courtesy of Brisbane International Film Festival

You’d want to have some seriously good child actors if you were going to produce a film that places them front and centre as the film’s leads and on whose shoulders the entire film’s success hinges. That, along with ‘this seemed like a good idea at the time I booked the ticket’ was what I was thinking when I attended a 9pm Friday session of Brisbane International Film Festival’s I Wish.

It had been a long, difficult, never-ending week and I had a 5.30am flight to Canberra for more even more work the next day. Anything less than a stellar film achieved through stellar performances was going to leave me unhappy.

I know, right? Not exactly a fair and objective mindset with which to enter the screening. So it’s testament to the brilliance of I Wish that I came away in awe of the movie, its director, and its supporting cast in general and its lead child actors in particular.

The film opens with slightly pudgy, extremely pensive 11-year-old Koichi. He’s living with his mother at his grandparents’ place in the south of Japan after his parents have divorced. He’s obsessed with the nearby volcano that’s threatening to erupt and that is, in the interim, spewing annoying ash that’s messing up his room and his belongings—it’s a symbol of his now-shambolic, simmering, out-of-control, threatening-to-erupt life. As he says, ‘I don’t know why everyone is so calm when there’s a volcano erupting!’

His younger brother, happy-go-lucky nine-year-old Ryo (played, coincidentally, by his real-life brother) is living with their father some 200 kilometres away in the north. A sexy, Japanese lookalike of Johnny Depp, the father is a Peter Pan-style musician who made it big but not huge as a rockstar and who has never quite grown up and into the responsibility of being married and having kids.

As a result, he’s living a perpetually hungover sharehouse existence while Ryo is living a self-sufficient one—the child, in effect, being the parent—and Ryo plants and carefully and capably tends fava beans, organises his own meals, and takes himself to and from school and swimming lessons with aplomb.

It is with these swimming lessons in the background in their respective cities that the brothers talk on their mobile phones. It showcases a parallel universe and one that works well, with both living similar yet polar-opposite lives, with Koichi unhappy with the family disintegration and Ryo relatively nonplussed.

Then Koichi hears that when bullet trains (there’s a new one being launched and the town is abuzz at the news) pass each other, miracles occur and wishes are granted. He sets about planning for the brothers to meet up at the point where the trains will pass and for them both to wish their family to reassemble and heal. This, of course, takes on charming and all-consuming dimensions replete with child problem-solving skills as they set about finding the perfect location, the money for the train tickets, and just how they’ll get out of school in order to execute their plan.

I Wish perhaps sounds juvenile explained in those terms, but it’s actually incredibly sophisticated and clever. Hirokazu Koreeda is a lauded screenwriter, producer, editor, and director whose work, Wikipedia tells me, centres on ‘memory, death, and coming to terms with loss’.

He’s experienced in how to bring the best out of child actors too—his award-winning 2004 film Nobody Knows had child actors as the four leads—and transports us wholly into their world and logic. Adult knowledge tells us the wish can’t possibly come true, but the childlike one—which the film reminds us of—hopes that it just might. It’s tender storytelling and I was surprised at the emotion I invested in this film—I may, if pressed, admit that at one point I shed a tear or two.

Refreshingly, this film shows the real Japan. Set not in Tokyo, as most films we westerners would be familiar with are, the location doesn’t dwarf the story. It also steers clear of stereotypes of children whose lives are dominated by cram school and stoic, efficient, salary men who lead a structured, never-wavering existence. Instead, we see flawed characters trying to make their way through the world—and we love them all the more for it.

I Wish never rushes, but it never dawdles either. It’s beautifully shot and allows small moments to unfold. And it’s funny. Really. There were some fantastic comedic moments. It also featured cameos by a hot librarian, a conspiratorially cool school nurse, and a random-but-awesome PE teacher who’s a caricature of every Dunlop volley-, headband-, and Stubbies shorts-wearing, too-fit teacher you’ve ever had.

Having studied Japanese for six years and visited the country a couple of times, I worried that I would know just enough to be distracted by the dialogue but not enough to even remotely understand what was going on. So I was pleasantly surprised to realise I understood more than I expected—helped, in part, because the young characters spoke more slowly and simply than adults would—and that it enhanced my understanding of the film.

But even if I hadn’t understood a word I would have been captivated—Oshiro Maedo, who plays younger brother Ryo, is outstanding and a complete and utter showstealer (in a good way). The infectious enthusiasm, fun, and energy he imbues into the character are spellbinding—you can’t help but keep your eyes glued to him in any scene he’s in. That’s not to take away from his older brother, Koki, who plays Koichi perfectly. Two years older but carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him too.

I would pay money to see the outtakes of this film because I’m sure they would have been pure gold. In fact, I spent much of the film marvelling at how different and yet complementary the two brothers were, as well as wondering how much was acting and how much was their true personalities shining through. Methinks a lot of the latter—Ryo/Oshiro is so spontaneous and so infectiously joyous I doubt you could fake that.

I’d highly recommend getting your hands on I Wish (I’ve heard that it’s available on DVD and, well, Christmas is handily just around the corner). It’s a feel-good film with equally surprising and satisfying moments of joy, humour, and sadness and a whole bunch of emotions in between.

BIFF under Anne Demy-Geroe and Mat Kesting used to be the highlight of my cultural calendar and BIFF2011, under new leadership, did not disappoint. I whizzed around the world with seven films in seven days and rounded off the whistle-stop tour in Japan.

Image courtesy of Brisbane International Film Festival

In Japan, a new bullet train (Kyuushu Shinkanzen) is being introduced and for two young brothers, another life-changing event has just occurred: the separation of their family. The brothers live 200 kilometres apart, each with a different parent.

Eleven-year-old Koichi lives in Kagoshima in the south of Japan with the boys’ mother, maternal grandmother (veteran actor Kirin Kiki), and maternal grandfather, the latter who is determined to make the perfect train cake to celebrate the new Shinkanzen. They live beside an active volcano and there are some wonderful gems by the earnest Koichi, who is struggling with the family break-up: ‘I don’t know why everyone is so calm when there’s a volcano erupting!’

Nine-year-old Ryo lives in Fukuoa in the north with the boys’ father, who is a musician staging a come-back in his home town after 15 years away. Ryo is busy going to school, looking after his dad, and planting and tending fava beans, which he expects to ripen in the springtime—the time of sakura or cherry blossoms. He tells his mum on the phone that he misses her fava beans and rice dish, which is delicious. With beer.

Despite living in two cities, each with a different parent, the brothers chat regularly by phone after swimming lessons and chores and are ‘connected by a thread you can’t see’.

When Koichi hears that if you make a wish at the point where the new bullet trains cross, your wish will come true, he knows immediately what he must wish for. All he needs to do is convince Ryo to meet him at the designated point. And to raise the 12,240 Yen ($160) required for the return tickets.

Such is the premise of I Wish or Kisek, written and directed by Hirokazu Koreeda, who developed the script with the actors.

If your idea of Japanese film is the Karate Kid, Manga, or Astro Boy, it’s time to update your model. This is contemporary Japan: families in unhappy circumstances trying making it work; cool, open-minded teachers; women sporting short funky ‘do’s and wearing trousers in every sense. It’s about cataclysmic events, change at the speed of light, the problem with love. I suspect the directorial intent is for this film to be palatable, and sold to, Western as well as Japanese audiences. It will certainly have wide appeal.

Nene Ohtsuka and Joe Odagiri as the boys’ estranged mother and father are Japanese acting royalty and offer solid performances of flawed, likeable characters. They are good looking folk too—a little unfairly gifted and talented, I thought! Odagiri’s CV is impressive and among the accolades are awards for his performances in bisexual and homosexual roles.

Mum and dad occupy very little screen time overall. The real stars in this film are the on- and off-screen brothers (Koki and Oshiro Maeda) who are naturals and so funny. Because the script was developed with these boys, it’s hard to know which part is the actor, which the character. I found big brother deep and little brother wonderfully cheeky and resilient. What struck me most about these kids was how enterprising, responsible, thoughtful, and mature they were, showing more grace and maturity than some adults in the film and in life.

The whole film is clever, funny, and endearing. It gets film gets four stars from me—I really enjoyed it! I Wish…that I could go to Japan and I felt inspired to brush up on the Japanese I learned throughout high school. I Wish…everyone had a chance to watch this film. I’ve just discovered that it’s available in DVD format online and it’s going on the Chrissy wishlist right now! Japan needed a good film this year and I Wish…for miracles for those affected by the natural and nuclear disasters of 2011.

Big thanks to Fiona, Susan and Critical Mass and BIFF for allowing me to go on the most cost-effective round-the-world trip ever!