Lido is the island where the Venice Film Festival (La Biennale) is held and, for 11 madcap days, this glorious place is brimming with cinephiles. On my way to a screening on Day Three, I overheard one well-coiffed woman on a bike (and there are way too many bikes—it’s like Amsterdam!) shout into her phone defiantly, “Il cinema ‘e la mia vita!” (Film is my life) and then ostentatiously hang up, before almost crashing into a small child. I adore my Italian people!
During the day, press await the celebrity arrivals as they primp and pose into their phones—most everyone is an Influencer or wannabe here. Throngs of fans gather in front of the Sala Grande theatre to get a glimpse of their favorite film stars. Among the most beloved this year, Julia Roberts, Cate Blanchett, Emma Stone and Jacob Elordi!
For journos, it’s a mad dash from screening to screening with little time to eat, sleep, breathe or write! No complaints, though! I love it here. And I get to take walks at night with my beloved while we people watch. Sometimes there’s even time to dine at one of our two favorite restaurants, the wonderful Ristorante Valentino (shout out to the tireless Michele Rosada) or Trattoria Andri. And, of course, enjoy a Bellini or Prosecco…or two.
The Fest has offered some exemplary films like Guillermo Del Toro’s Frankenstein, László Nemes’ Orphan, Paolo Strippoli’s The Holy Boy (La valle dei sorrisi), Antonio Capuano’s L’isola di Andrea (Andrea’s Island) and, aspects of Noah Baumbach’s Jay Kelly.
Three films blew me away. Yorgos Lanthinmos’ Bugonia and Kathryn Bigelow’s A House of Dynamite will likely land on my year-end best list. Both were extraordinary in differing and similar ways as they dealt with the lovely topic of the end of humanity.
Gus Van Sant’s Dead Man’s Wire is also high on my list of faves. Reminiscent of some of the best films of the 1970s, this taut, wholly engrossing thriller, based on real events, resonated strongly—especially in the wake of the Giuseppe Mangione controversy. I pray it gets a release and strong awards push.
Bernhard Wenger’s Peacock is a satiric wonder and Jaume Claret Muxart’s Strange River (Estrany Riu), an alluring queer coming-of-age cine-poem.
Last year, two Venice world premieres landed Best Picture Oscar nominations, The Brutalist and I’m Still Here, while the Golden Lion winner, The Room Next Door, egregiously failed to score a single mention with AMPAS.
This year Netflix could snag three Best Picture nominations from their Venice lineup, Frankenstein, A House of Dynamite and Jay Kelly. We shall see.
Tunisia’s International Feature Submission, Kaouther Ben Hania’s The Voice of Hind Rajab, received a stunning 22-minute standing ovation, and great reviews, almost securing it a spot in that category. It will most certainly get a big Best Picture push and may win the Golden Lion. This was the one press screening I had to miss, due to a migraine, but I look forward to seeing it some time back in New York.
Nicole Kidman won the Volpi Cup for Best Actress last year for her fearless work in Babygirl but failed to get an Oscar nomination. The final five female acting Oscar choices in both Lead and Supporting last year Oscars, with a few exceptions, were lazy and lame.
This year there are several great acting performances that might go on to Oscar glory (or get unconscionably snubbed like Kidman, Tilda Swinton and Angelina Jolie) include Emma Stone, Julia Roberts, George Clooney, Adam Sandler, Jacob Elordi, Andrew Garfield, Willem Dafoe and Jesse Plemons. Dwayne Johnson and Emily Blunt may also be recognized. She’s never been nominated, and he is being heralded for finally taking a career risk If there’s any justice—and a secured release you can add Bill Skarsgård, Dacre Montgomery and Amanda Seyfried to the list.
I am most excited about Emma Stone possibly winning a second Volpi Cup for Best Actress after winning for La-La Land in 2016! Can it happen? I sure hope so!
Here are some further musings on films I had mixed feelings about
Two quasi-biopics premiered, Mona Fastvold’s The Testament of Ann Lee, with an electrifying, immersive performance by Amanda Seyfried, and Benny Safdie’s The Smashing Machine, featuring a terrific Dwayne Johnson. But despite the dazzling filmmaking of Ann Lee’s Fastvold and a few riveting combative scenes between Johnson and Emily Blunt in the latter, I could not fathom why these gifted filmmakers felt the desire to tell these particular stories or what they were trying to convey (beyond the obvious) in doing so.
Ann Lee and the Shakers were, for all intents and purposes, a dangerous cult where celibacy ruled. So why devote so much time to her saga without digging a bit deeper beyond the idea that those who follow any religion must have blind faith in their leaders, who purport to have God’s ear? The film is a visually stunning spectacle with unforgettable (ironically, orgasmic) songs, but lands cold and lacking in character nuance.
The Smashing Machine is a definite showcase for Johnson. The character he portrays, Mark Kerr, was a groundbreaking Mixed Martial Arts fighter, but in execution the result feels more like a decent 1980s TV-movie—or an unnecessary reworking of The Wrestler. Not surprisingly, certain critics are wholeheartedly embracing it. But many of them also embraced The Whale.
Pietro Marcello’s sumptuous, if arduous bio-drama Duse, about the final years of the great Italian stage actress, Eleonora Duse, benefits from a commanding lead performance by Valeria Bruni Tedeschi.
Father Mother Sister Brother has a slew of fab deadpan comic performances to keep the audience engaged, beginning with the great Charlotte Rampling, who is just fabulous. Cate Blanchett and Vicky Krieps add to the fun of the centerpiece segment but are done a disservice by contrived and mundane dialogue. In his desire for subtlety, Jim Jarmusch only achieves banality.
On the mostly good side, Kent Jones’s enthralling Late Fame features Willem Dafoe in the kind of role actors dream of playing. Not surprisingly, he devours the challenge. His facial expressions alone captivate and tell us everything. Extra kudos to Greta Lee for a layered turn—she’s truly mesmerizing as an actress-wannabe who is always performing. Her magical musical moment crooning “Surabaya Johnny,” is sublime. And the supporting cast of poets, dandies and such, led by a grand Edmund Donovan, are uniformly excellent. Samy Burch’s script is intelligent and clever. The only flaw is in how Jones and Burch decide to end the film, almost betraying the entire endeavor to a Hollywood trope.
Dafoe is also quite good in Gastón Solnicki’s strange offering, The Souffleur.
George MacKay delivers a gritty, mesmerizing turn in Mark Jenkin’s taxing, enigmatic Rose of Nevada. Callum Turner is also quite excellent. But be forewarned, it’s a slog.
David Pablos’ On the Road offers up a gritty non-linear look at a very odd bromance/romance between two very different Mexican dudes, an uber masculine trucker and a young drifter. And when it focuses on their relationship, the film is quite stirring. But when the plot kicks in and horrific cartel members from the young guy’s past emerge to seek revenge, the film takes a downward and disappointing turn.
Akihiro Hata’s Grand Ciel begins intriguingly enough at a construction site for a futuristic complex where employees, mostly immigrants, are exploited and forced to work under the worst conditions. The lone “white guy,” as his superior calls him, Vincent (Damien Bonnard,) and his crew notice a strange mist emitting from certain areas at the site. And when workers go missing, they start to suspect that higher ups are covering up an accident or worse, murder. Hata does a swell job creating an uncomfortable atmosphere fraught with tension and full of possibilities. And the film’s timely look at corporate greed and the exploitation of the working class is to be commended. But the sparse screenplay, by Hata and Jérémie Dubois, leaves too much unsaid and the finale left me completely frustrated. Sometimes less is just less.
Press reactions have been wildly divided over many of Venice’s selections with certain prominent critics—one in particular— seemingly in love with mediocrity (The Smashing Machine) and resistant to truly brilliant filmmaking (A House of Dynamite). But, then, that’s just my opinion.
Grazie mille to the Team of the 82nd Mostra Internazionale d’Arte Cinematografica di Venezia.
Now, off to New York!
