Wind Indiegogo Campaign Seems To Be Stalling

Exactly 15 days ago (May 6th) the producers behind the much-written-about effort to assemble a final, completed version of Orson Welles‘ never-finished The Other Side of The Wind launched an Indiegogo campaign. Their goal, they said, was to raise $2 million by sometime in June. That figure struck some as a bit rich (an experienced restoration guy shared this view about ten days ago, ditto a noted filmmaker during an early morning breakfast yesterday) but no one knows all the particulars as well as principal organizer Filip Jan Rymsza. As of right now the campaign has gotten donations from nearly 2000 people and raised $212,098, or a little more than $100K per week or $100 per person. If this rate is sustained (and I’m not presuming it’ll continue at this pace but rather lose steam as the days and weeks pass) the fund will have raised a little more than $600K as of June 18th, or less than a third of what it needs.

This suggests that a lot of people who could have contributed haven’t so far. I donated $100 on 5.7, and I guess I’m wondering how many others in my realm have done the same. Starting tomorrow I’m going to write colleagues and ask around. Who would turn down Orson Welles? Would they do the same if Welles was still with us at age 100 and holding out a tin cup on a sidewalk? You might be surprised. A situation like this offers an opportunity to access just how serious cinema devotees are about their convictions.

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One of The Weakest Cannes Film Festivals Ever?

The general consensus among Cannes-attending journos I’ve spoken to recently is that the 68th Cannes Film Festival is among the most anemic in recent memory. Son of Saul, Carol and Amy, Son of Saul, Carol and Amy, Son of Saul, Carol and Amy…that’s all you’ll hear when you ask anyone about the highlights. For some reason I haven’t heard anyone mention Pete Docter‘s Inside Out, although that’s certainly been among the “best” films shown here, at the very least on a craft level. Otherwise the festival selections have been a series of planes trying to lift into the clouds but, like Harrison Ford‘s recent experience with a vintage plane at Santa Monica Airport, afflicted with sputtering-engine syndrome and either crash landing or having to put her down on a nearby golf course.

Over the last nine days beginning on Wednesday, 5.13 (tomorrow is my last full day here), I’ve been listening to moaning and occasional tap-dancing from literally dozens of festivalgoers about Matteo Garrone‘s Tale of Tales, Yorgos LanthimosThe Lobster, Woody Allen‘s Irrational Man, Nathalie Portman‘s A Tale of Love and Darkness (which I didn’t even see after hearing I didn’t need to bother), Gus Van Sant‘s The Sea of Trees, Nanni Moretti‘s Mia Madre, Maiwenn‘s Mon Roi, Joachim Trier‘s Louder Than Bombs, Brilliante Mondoza‘s Taklub (which I saw but didn’t feel motivated to write anything about), Paolo Sorrentino‘s Youth, Hao Hsiao-Hsien‘s The Assassin (which I’m expecting to more or less suffer through tomorrow), Jacques Audiard‘s Dheepan…almost everything shown here has been received as meh-level, problematic, mildly disappointing, respectable but not earthshaking, etc.

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Unexceptional, Nicely Shot Love Isn’t Bad, But My Pulse Never Quickened

Gaspar Noe‘s 3D Love screened this morning at 11 am in the Salle Bazin. I was right there in the last row with my orange-framed 3D glasses. I liked that they passed out little antiseptic wipe packets with the glasses, which they never do in the States. In order to make sure of a seat I had to stand at the back of the Grand Lumiere during the final minutes of Jacques Audiard‘s respectable but somewhat minor Dheepan and rush up to the Bazin…push, huddle, trudge.

Are you noticing anything different about this review? Mainly that after four sentences I’m tiddly-winking around and not saying anything about how good, bad, reasonably decent or mezzo-mezzo Love is? Not because it’s a bad or dull or unworthy film, but because I can’t seem to summon any strong feelings about it.

Okay, I found the sex scenes mildly appealing. Before this morning I had never seen graphic sex depicted in 3D, and I have to say that while I didn’t feel blown away by the unusualness of the footage I wasn’t entirely unaffected. I was sitting there going “Yeah, okay…this isn’t half bad as far as the 3D aspect is concerned. Visually distinctive, striking, arresting. Nice bods, nicely lighted, no grotesque aspects.” But it didn’t seem like quite enough to justify watching Love for two hours plus.

I was mildly interested (certainly during the first half-hour or so) but I never felt riveted.

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