Catfish

Reality is a subjective concept, even more so in documentaries. Dubious editing and an agenda can easily transform the way we see events. But this American film has caused a cacophony of controversy, with manifold critics, including Supersize Me director Morgan Spurlock, alleging it to be the stuff of fiction. Prior knowledge of the film’s polemic past won’t quite spoil the viewing experience, but it did make me constantly reflect on Catfish’s genuineness.

It tells the bizarre story of New York ballet photographer, Yaniv ‘Niv’ Schulman, and his unlikely internet relationship with a prodigiously talented eight-year-old artist and her family. When he receives a mysterious package containing a painting of one of his published photos, he discovers it has been sent to him by preteen Abby. Yaniv’s documentary maker brother, Ariel, and his business partner, Henry Joost, decide to film the younger brother and see what happens. Over the course of several months and following the exchange of more packages, Niv starts a flirtatious and innocent relationship with the attractive musician sister of Abby, through Facebook, instant messenger and other digital means.

The far-fetched proceedings undergo a dramatic change-of-gear when the trio make a trip to Colorado ski resort, Vail, to film the dance festival there. They see the break as the perfect opportunity to visit Abby and her sister at home in rural Illinois and make the trip to her house. Without wishing to give anything away, it is here that the film undergoes a sea change and becomes something altogether more sinister. Nothing is exactly as it seems and, whether it is fact or fiction, the action is mesmerising. Perfectly paced and structured (some would say too perfectly), the film reaches its dénouement with a WTF moment worthy of anything in recent cinematic history.

And yet the nagging doubts remain: true or false, cynical exploitation or snide opportunism? The lyrical, metaphorical anecdote which lends the film its title is especially suspicious. Aside from that, there is one gratuitous scene that clearly transgresses all boundaries of good taste and serves no real purpose, illustrative or otherwise, and ought to be remarked upon. That said it is essential viewing; for, whichever way one looks at it, it as a great deal to say about cyber-relationships, trust and the world we live in. One of the year’s best documentaries, it is sure to keep you talking afterwards. Just don’t mention Skype.

Another Year

Critical approbation isn’t always a good thing for films. At least not for the viewer, anyway. As when you go and see a film that has been lauded to high heavens, things can only go one of two ways: you either don’t agree and leave disappointed, or you agree and go home mildly contented. Neither of which is that great and this scenario could have very well been the case when I went to see Another Year, British legend Mike Leigh’s latest offering. For five-star revives have been plentiful, Cannes audiences were stunned, and there have been very vocal calls for Oscar nominations.

As it happens, I loved it. Though not as in-your-face as 99.9% of today’s movies and very typical of Mike Leigh in its exploration of both domestic life and melancholy, it is exhilarating viewing. Telling the story of middle-aged London-based couple, Tom and Gerri, the action is roughly split over four seasons of the year. ‘Action’ may be the wrong word, as fans of the director’s earlier work will know; the pace is sedate throughout and things are left to develop organically. This may not be to everyone’s taste but given the standard of acting, it is utterly engrossing.

Tom and Gerri very much represent the familial ideal: a solid, loving, successful couple: he a geologist, she a therapist. But their stability is seriously tested given the chaotic intrusion of the perennially unfortunate, alcoholic co-worker of Gerri’s, Mary (fabulously played by Lesley Manville). As well as acting as a counterpoint to their life, making passes at their single son and generally disgracing herself in the process, she hints at deeper problems and the underlying sadness that can easily characterise people’s lives. Other characters not as fortunate as Tom and Gerri’s family come and go, bringing their life into sharper focus.

As Peter Bradshaw has pointed out, it is difficult to decide whether to deride Tom and Gerri for their happiness, or to hold them up as a near-unattainable ideal. I am ambivalent. What it does show us are the vagaries of real life and how pure good fortune can play such an essential role in one’s happiness. A magnificent film; go and make your own mind up.

Another Year Trailer

Dirty Projectors – Koko (09/12/’10)

Having never had the pleasure of seeing one of my very favourite bands before, expectation was understandably high. As was my apprehension. But, like so many of the gigs I have been too recently, it did not disappoint.

Their support came in the form of London trio, Male Bonding, a band that I had heard great things about but only a couple of singles. Superficially an odd choice to open for a band as intellectual and seemingly serious as Dirty Projectors, they in fact provided the perfect complement. Much to my chagrin, not all of the crowd seemed to agree; yet their brand of noise pop, catchy hooks, equally catchy melodies and more noise may not be to everyone’s taste. They may have been loud but they were good loud. The drumming was fast, impressive and precise and the other two weren’t too bad, either.

Their songs may have not been as original as other current bands’ (the act they were opening for being prime among them) but their mid-nineties-influenced material was performed with aplomb. So much so that I am have already got hold of their LP.

Male Bonding - Year's Not Long

After they finished, the old theatre really began to get packed out. The sort of polite jostling that one only gets at brainy indie bands’ gigs was rife. When lead singer Dave Longstreth appeared on stage to fiddle with his guitars, the reaction was muted. When he appeared with the rest of his band the reception was raucous. They proceeded to play several songs I hadn’t heard, off this year’s Björk collaboration, Mount Wittenburg Orca, along with a Bob Dylan cover; and every note was met with an almost trance-like reaction from the crowd.

Every song was marked with some virtuoso musicianship, whether from the spidery fingers of Longstreth and his impressive guitar playing or the siren-like brilliance of Amber Coffman et al.’s backing vocals. So fine were their arpeggiating melodies that I found it hard to believe they could be done live. Particular highlights included the r’n’b crowd-pleaser Stillness is the Move and epic set-closer Rise Above; though, given the all round brilliance, picking highlights seems unfair. Everyone seemed happy, aside from a few lads heard complaining in the queue on the way out. About what I shall never know.

Dirty Projectors - Stillness Is the Move

Vampire Weekend and Ratatat – Alexandra Palace (02/12/’10)

I was lucky enough to get a ticket for this gig the other day, and the line up looked too good to be true. In fact, it was too good to be true as Laura Marling was forced to pull out at the last minute. This may have been due to the adverse weather conditions, or some impromptu illness; I don’t know. Disapointing as it was, it was still an entertaining bill as it was and the chance to see two very different American bands in the faded grandeur of the Alexandra Palace.

Ratatat were, quite obviously, up first and proved an able and enjoyable support act. Their own unique brand of hip hop and electro beats with electric guitar, live drums and other assorted instruments proved perplexing to some of the crowd but most people seemed to enter into the spirit of things. Despite there only being two members, the pair make for an engaging live act, with the head-banging and shredding of guitarist, Mike Stroud, being particularly impressive. To go along with the music, the set up included some hilarious visuals featuring Abba, Arnie in Predator, a wildcat and lots of cockatiels; not to mention two state-of-the-art projectors showing a strings section and more creatures.

Ratatat – Wildcat

After the duo left the stage and some time past, it became evident that Laura Marling was not going to play and the room quickly filled up. Mothers jostled with pre-pubescent children, scenesters, loud teens and middle-aged men of all nationalities. This bizarre mix just highlights the universal appeal of Vampire Weekend and their platinum-selling, meteoric rise. After entering to a blare of hip hop, the band played an immaculate set, incorporating almost every song they have ever recorded. The charisma of lead singer, Ezra Koenig, was never in question, nor the musicianship of the other members, or even the quality of the material. But with just two studio albums to their name, there was no element of surprise in what they were going to play, as the 1h 15m set is around the length of both of their albums. That said, despite not possessing the madcap stage presence of Ratatat or other ‘heavier’ bands, there is no doubting their charm. After the finale song of the encore, ‘Walcott’, the other 6,500 certainly thought so.

Vampire Weekend - Contra (Live at Alexandra Palace)