Best Film Award, Tropfest 07: ‘An Imaginary Life’ (Steve Baker).
Originally published on Sleepy Brain, 1 April 2007.
On April 7 Channel Nine, accompanied by Richard Wilkins, screened the films from the finals of the Sony Tropfest 2007 short-film festival, which was held on February 18. Tropfest purports to showcase the work of ‘Australia’s emerging filmmakers’ and there’s a big focus on numbers (it’s touted as the ‘world’s biggest short-film festival’, with a live audience of 100,000) but, as far as I can see, not so much attention to quality. I mean, is this really the future of filmmaking in this country: a crop of short films that feature talking dogs, fart jokes, faeces galore, cutesy kids…and sneezes?
The Tropfest ‘signature item’ — where each entry must feature an action or object chosen by the organisers — always makes for the most embarrassing moments each year the festival is held. In 2007, each short had to feature a sneeze somewhere in the film; wince as even the most promising scenes are suddenly deflated by this most saccharine of human sounds, or are ruined by a character sneezing in a totally haphazard and incongruous manner, thus ruining any tension, humour or romance the filmmaker may have been trying to generate. Imagine if the Tropfest organisers really had a desire to nurture challenging films: why not God as the signature item? War? Murder? Time-travel? UFOs? Uzi 9mm machine guns? Chainsaws?
Poo Joke No. 1: ‘A-Z’.
No, ‘sneeze’ it was, and the Best Film gong went to Steve Baker’s ‘An Imaginary Life’, about the loneliness a kid’s imaginary friend feels when the kid grows up and stops believing in him. The mix of animation and Super 8-style footage is nicely done, but the story is hokey, so what’s the point? Anyway, it wasn’t even the best animation in the festival.
That title goes to ‘A-Z’ by Zenon Kohler, with its effective technique: cut-out/cut ‘n’ paste photo stills set to a poem about a guy who goes on a ‘meat repulsion’ diet where he has to eat all his favourite animals and winds up a vegan. There are some mild laughs here, including the signature sneeze disguised as a fart…although that little explosion of gas is in itself a very bad omen, as toilet humour appears to be the main preoccupation of this elite group.
Actually, you’d be forgiven for thinking that ‘shit’ was the signature item. In 2007, Tropfest literally was Crapfest.
Poo Joke No. 2: ‘Bad Yoghurt’.
Take Shaun Beagley’s ‘Bad Yoghurt’, which is ‘about’ a thin supermodel type in a skimpy bikini lounging by a pool. She eats some bad yoghurt then falls about, twirling sexily, an action seen from many angles, before vomiting long and continuously, then collapsing. Then she shits herself and we see all of that, too. Classy. The whole thing, shit and all, looks like an ad, not a short film. Imagine the voiceover (featuring someone like, oh, Samuel Johnson): ‘New X-Brand Yoghurt. So smooth, so gentle — you’ll never shit your pants again’.
‘Counter’ (Michael Noonan) wanted to get metaphysical, but was hamstrung by the Col’n Carpenter-style acting.
‘Fore’ (Duane Fogwell) was another self-consciously weird entry, about a guy on a golf range caught in a time loop. Naturally, he was only dreaming — what a pity.
‘The Grey Cloud’ (Matt Peek/Cam Ford) was an attempt at noir, with the classic ingredients: awestruck kid, femme fatale, double-crossing rival. It looks good (albeit too glossy to be true noir; it’s in COLOUR), but you’ve seen that story a million times.
Poo Joke No. 3: ‘Being Boston’.
‘Being Boston’ (Justin Drape) was about a talking dog (or, at least, a dog whose thoughts we can hear) and features a woman slipping in the dog’s shit. Talking animals and poo jokes — what century are we in?
‘Between the Flags’ (Jayce White) had a good central idea: a Lebanese guy and an Aussie guy, primed for the Cronulla riots, turn up to the wrong beach, discovering they’re the only two there. They proceed to play cricket and bond, but the director severely overplays his hand when the pair find they have virtually everything in common; it’s altogether too trite, too neat, too sappy. You half expect them to start kissing.
‘Mere Oblivion’ (Burleigh Smith) was merely snide, just a cheap excuse to take pot-shots at immigrants and old people; yes, the central character is blind to the feelings of those around him, but the immigrant and the old woman in the film are unlovable, too, so you’re left hating them all.
‘Pig Latin’ (Nathaniel Kiwi) was a puerile, pointless portrayal of two childish cops who just want to play video games with their mate.
‘Real Thing’ (Rupert Glasson) was a reasonably interesting psychodrama about memory loss and repressed violence. When the woman in question sees objects regenerating on the shelf, you’ll think that’s certainly a nice touch, although the ending — which strains to deliver the BIG TWIST — will be all too familiar to fans of this genre.
Like Shaun Beagley, I reckon Mark Bellamy, who made ‘Road Rage’, will find his vocation in the ad world. ‘Road Rage’ begins promisingly, portraying an uptight businessman who chases another driver who has cut in front of him, only to confront the guy and discover he’s driving erratically because he’s suffering a nervous breakdown.
Like ‘Between the Flags’, this then becomes an all-in lovefest: too much, too soon, too corny. No restraint. When a chorus of drivers stuck behind these two begin to lean out of their cars to chime in with the problems going on in their lives — bad jokes and all — it feels like you’re watching an ad for health insurance. It’s so contrived, so divorced from reality that it can only sell a product. Medibank Private should snap Mark Bellamy up; this ad (sorry, short film) would be awesome with Stephen Cummings’ ‘I Feel Better Now’ on the soundtrack.
Jayne Montague’s ‘Still’ has no dialogue. A kid watches his dad leave his wife (the kid’s mum) in the night (I think that’s how they all know each other). This film is possibly *too* subtle; the mother has suicided, or overdosed, a detail I missed first time around. However, once I got it, this touch added substantial weight. ‘Still’ is possibly the best film of the bunch, as it presents a willingness to explore touchy subject matter in a careful, considered fashion: no hysterics, no larding of emotion. And we are faced with mature themes for a change. All in less than 7 minutes).
Simon Weaving’s animated ‘The Story of Ned’ has a good central idea, about ’stories’ (anthropomorphised here as cartoon people) growing up and having trouble with their ‘internal structure’, thus requiring surgery from ’story doctors’. But I didn’t dig on the technique — some of it looked like animated gifs from the early days of the web. And the narration is cheesy.
Poo Joke No. 4: ‘The Von’.
Then came ‘The Von’ (John Mavety) and this one had the flamin’ lot: a nauseating dog with human characteristics; loads of poo jokes and farts; and a cutesy kid. The kid shits his pants, but thinks of himself as a superhero, and dreams of using his imaginary superpowers to get the girl.
‘Yellow’ (William Allert) had perhaps the most promising idea: a psycho likes to get in taxi cabs and fuck with the drivers’ minds, a bit like the character Martin Scorsese plays in Taxi Driver. Disappointingly, it’s ruined by the cheapest production values in the whole festival.
I reckon the problem is all of these films (except for ‘A-Z’, written by Murray Hartin, and ‘Still’, written by Nick Thompson) were made by writer/directors. Blame the film schools for this; apparently, there must be no collaboration with specialist writers. It’s some kind of mantra, so I’ve been told. I don’t really know why. Too much effort? Too expensive? Too time-consuming?
It’s sad when writers are being bred out of the film industry, especially when a bunch of shit is all we have to show for it (hey, when you make films about faeces, you open yourself up to all kinds of snide remarks). I’m thinking of the welfare of the Tropfest directors here, too.
Filmmakers are selling themselves short with this idea of the director as can-do multitasking superhero, when spending a little bit of time with an actual writer might just deliver the killer punch that jaded filmgoers everywhere are so desperately waiting for.
..:: SONY TROPFEST 2007 WINNERS
FIRST PRIZE
Film: ‘An Imaginary Life’; director: Steve Baker (QLD)
SECOND PRIZE
Film: ‘Road Rage’; director: Mark Bellamy (NSW)
THIRD PRIZE
Film: ‘The Von’; director: John Mavety (NSW)
COINTREAU WOMEN IN FILM AWARD
Film: ‘Real Thing’; director: Rani Chaleyer (NSW)
SONY FOUNDATION YOUNG TALENT AWARD
Film: ‘The Von’; director: John Mavety (NSW)
BEST MALE ACTOR
Film: ‘Between the Flags’; actor: Matuse (NSW)
BEST FEMALE ACTOR
Film: ‘Mere Oblivion’; actress [sic]: Elizabeth Caicob (WA)
BEST COMEDY
Film: ‘Between the Flags’; director: Jayce White (NSW)
BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY
Film: ‘The Grey Cloud’; cinematographer: Cam Ford (VIC)
BEST SCREENPLAY
Film: ‘Yellow’; writer: William Allert (SA)
BEST ORIGINAL SCORE
Film: ‘Real Thing’; score: Rupert Glasson (NSW)
BEST EDITING
Film: ‘Fore!’; editor: Duane Fogwell (NSW)
THE TROPICANA AWARD
Film: ‘Bad Yoghurt’; director: Shaun Beagley (QLD)