Beaches, Scandinavia and Western

Tuesday was yet another late start, although I planned on getting into my 4-5 films a day rhythm again. The discussion kicked off, debating the importance of film festivals. My proposition that film festivals could be decentralised didn’t have a very positive response, although they admitted that there is a lack in courage in programming and directing of the festivals.

After lunch I decided and go to see Svinalängorna by the Swedish actor Pernilla August. While Europe is busy congratulating themselves for their oh-so-amazing achievement in film, it seems that it are the Scandinavian countries that, silently, bring the true cinema on screen. A dark story with amazing cinematography and an absolutely thrilling plot. Gosh, I loved it. And where’s that country where Swedish actresses come from? After that, I tried to catch Promises Written in Water by Vincent Gallo, but did not get in. We went to the beach instead. That’s great about the Biennale.

Notre Étrangère, tonight’s bigger Giornate film, was a 82-minute torture, pointless and boring.

The Happy Poet made up for that, being a low-budget, nice little film. We had good fun, were laughing and applauding the plot. Good for a late night. But not late enough, because we decided to see I Crudeli by Sergio Corbucci. This film was Quentin’s opening film for the Quentin Tarantino Film Festival in Austin, TX, and his personal festival dedication.