Triage, No Man's Land, and The Festival of Film

Way back in 2001, I was a student participant at the Telluride Film Festival (in beautiful Telluride, Colorado), and somewhere along the way I was told to go along with someone to pick up a Bosnian director by the name of Danis Tanović, who was there to screen his magnificent film No Man's Land. In the car, I made brief small talk with Tanović telling them I had just made the acquaintance of a good Slovenian friend (aka The Captain). Danis was surly and of few words and somewhat jokingly asked me what about Bosnia, and why didn't I have a Bosnian friend. I told him I'd get one. We got to our destination, I watched his incredible film, and tried to keep an eye out for something else from him. I never managed to catch any of his other films until I went to the website of our local uniplex a few weeks back and noted he had a new film and it was headed my way.

So, last night, I pedalled over to said trusty neighborhood cinema to catch Tanovic's latest, Triage. I stepped in and requested a ticket and the girl at the ticket window informed me that I'd be the only person in the theater. I guess she thought she would dissuade me from coming in and then she could round up the boys and every one could go home early. No sirree. I replied that being alone in that theater was nothing new. If I had a euro for every time I sat alone in the Radovljica Kino.... well I could at least buy myself a reasonably filling dinner. So I flipped my ticket to the ticket-taker (not sure what he's there for, but anyway) and went in to see the flick.



Triage mostly takes place in 1998 Ireland and focuses on a very skeletal young Irish war photographer played by the charming Mr. Colin Farrell (who lost like 40 some pounds for the role) who is dealing with personal strife resulting from an assignment in Kurdistan gone terribly wrong. It is at times lopsided and forced, feeling sort of more like a play than a film, but the actors (Farrell is joined by the lovely Paz Vega, the dignified though slightly unconvincing Christopher Lee, and our beloved Branko Đurić once again proving the weird film belief that former Yugo people are the right choice whenever you need an actor to be somewhat ambiguously ethnic) and the art direction somehow pull it together into a credible and compelling little story that just barely misses being cliche.

The last thing I saw Farrell in was In Bruges, another nice little film and I really admire him for challenging himself by taking these sort of projects that are doomed to fly mostly under the radar. I think he is just getting better as an actor, and I highly recommend catching Triage when it comes your way.

BTW, Danis if you're out there, I have a few Bosnian friends now. But I imagine you'd say I ought to have more. With pleasure!

Big River Man - Martin Strel

Yesterday I went to see an interesting little film, Big River Man, about one of the most incredible Slovenians to ever live, Martin Strel, endurance swimmer. To date, Martin has swum the length of the Danube, the Mississippi, the Yangtze, and most recently the Amazon. And he has done this all after the age of 45.



I must warn you that, while the film has a fascinating subject, it is deeply deeply flawed. The basic construction of the film is choppy and shows a fundamental misunderstanding of the main characters -- Martin and his son/trainer, Borut -- and instead of trying to work through that misunderstanding it decides to make a mockery of them and Slovenia and geez, almost anyone. There is almost no one in this film who doesn't come out looking like a bumbling idiot. The filmmakers asking/allowing Martin's (none too bright) son to narrate the film was also a big mistake, not only was Borut uncharismatic as a narrator, but frankly I have to say that unless a Slovenian person knows English really really well, their personalities just don't come through and they just sound robotic and well...Borat-y. I think the producers would have done well to hire a interpreter and let Martin and Borut speak Slovenian for most of the film, they probably would have talked more and said more interesting/coherent things. Most glaringly, there were such gaping narrative holes in the movie, that Strel himself would probably find it daunting to get across. That said, the reason why I still recommend Big River Man is because of the glorious images of what this story is simply about: Martin swimming.

The footage of him floating, gliding, stretching, and splashing himself down the Amazon in absolutely beautiful. While on dry land, his massive body (the result of bad food and hard drinking) moves ungracefully and somewhat aimlessly; in the water he is at home, the weight of the world -- his troubled past and uncertain future -- is lifted, and he is pure poetry, understandable in any language. Pick it up if you can, and let me know what you think!

Black Expat Supastah

I'm sorry I haven't blogged more. I am working on a few other posts and should have them up soon.

So, two funny things happened today which made me feel slightly internet famous.

The first one was discovering that I was pictured on a page of very beautiful people on Le Coil.

The second one was being told by the lovely Adrienne, that I'd been profiled on Black Expat.com.

I'd completely forgotten that I'd responded to this interview. It was quite a while ago, and my life and opinions have already changed so much that I might have to do an update to many of the questions. But it is definitely a good snapshot of one moment in my time. Check it out!

Srečno Novo Leto? Let's Get On The Map!

Happy New Year! Or so I thought....



I've spent the last three weeks trying to explain to friends and family where in the world I have moved to and just last night I had to explain to a sofa full of people that not only do I not live in Russia, but I've never even been there. It's been pretty maddening. So I've been quite eager for the Slovenian EU presidency to get the show on the road so the place can finally get on the map (and I can sip drinks and eat party snacks in peace). But according to this BBC article , sexing up the place is not part of the plan...

"We want to make the Western Balkans stable and predictable, maybe even boring," says Mr Kacin (Jelco Kacin, Slovenian Member of the European Parliament).

"That's why we would like to fill the gap between Ljubljana and Thessaloniki [in Greece] with member states."

And Slovenia? Is that boring, I wonder?

"Since we are taking over the presidency in a few weeks I believe that we are boring enough that everybody is recognizing Slovenia as a boring, predictable state."


In a world with tabloids chock full of people famous for nothing, why oh why would Slovenia want to do so much and still go unrecognized? It simply makes no sense. While I've already suspected Slovenia of having a slight problem with self-esteem, this new plan is downright self-loathing. Something must be done!

Lucky for everyone, I am headed down to LA in just a few days. I'll see what I can do to get Slovenia an A-list publicist or Hollywood agent, someone that can get the country seen and heard. It won't be easy, but it'll be worth it! This campaign has only begun and it is headed in the wrong direction. I can call Slovenian people many things, but boring isn't one of them...bored maybe, but never boring!

Another Star Turn

Dear Readers and Adoring Fans,

As you may have read in the local tabloids, Camille (of Adventures in Wheelville fame) was spotted early yesterday afternoon in Ljubljana expelling that morning's breakfast (a healthy helping of corn flakes and bananas) out into some bushes not far from Cankarjev Dom. Luckily she was with a friend who quickly whisked her off to a local clinic where she was fed copious amounts of prežganka (a thick kinda flavorless, kinda gross, but oddly soothing soup).

She is now resting comfortably at her stately home in Radovljica. She thanks her fans for their support (namely whoever sent her the above weird illustration), and wishes to reminds you that food poisoning can happen to any one at any time, so be careful out there.

Sincerely,
Her reps at The Will-not Bore-us Agency

You Never Can Tell

I know I live in a small place. Slovenia is a country only slightly bigger than the city where I came from, and a friend recently told me that according to a recent news article, everyone in the country is 1.6 handshakes away from almost anyone else and only 2.2 away from the President. When you mention someone here you are often asked their first and last name, people scan their memories to figure out whether they know who you are talking about. It's possible, wholly possible that they know each other. So I know I shouldn't be surprised by what happened the other day.

As I was idling in the summer house in Croatia, I happened upon a stack of newspapers and magazines and pulled out an interesting looking woman's gossip magazine. Staring back at me from the cover was the paparazzi wedding photo of a girl I'd met only a few weeks ago. A girl I pissed off at a party.... a girl I din't know was an actress... let alone a famous paparazzi'd midlevel celebrity. Now I am not going to get into the boring details, but long story short, once upon a time this midlevel celebrity spent hours preparing some food and once upon another time I spent about 10 seconds accidentally dropping half of said beautiful preparations onto the ground. Celeb was unhappy, I was embarassed, and she didnt speak to me for the rest of the party. I was fine with it, OK alright, you win some you lose some. But as I stared at the cover of the magazine the embarassment came rushing back. Not only had I slighted the Slovenian equivalent of a, say, Sienna Miller or something, but with that slight went my chances of joining the ranks of Slovenia's glitterati. The community's too small, word would get out too fast. I'd be known as The Spiller and banished forever!

No sooner had I told that story to Dr. Fil (who fortunately didn't shun me), then we were out on the town in Ljubljana, enjoying the nightlife, and meeting people. By some lucky stroke, we ended up at Opera Bar where they were celebrating their third anniversary with cake, booze, and a live performance by popular Slovene singer, Alenka Godec (whose music I'd just been introduced to that day). I was fortunate enough to take a photo with her (and another Alenka :)) and minutes later we met up, (by coincidence)again in the ladies room where we said another brief hello and smiled. With that brief exchange, the door to the big time just cracked back open. I don't wanna jump the gun, but next time I see Alenka I'm gonna wave like an old friend and see where it takes me. I think I'm almost ready for my closeup...


(Thanks to Alenka U. & Alenka G.!)