The 2009 Festival took a lot of flak for succumbing to festivalism. This affliction supposedly drove the Festival to choose films of a certain rigor, films lacking in fun, films that would edify us all with their high-end film-iness.
Almost a century after Marcel Duchamps nude headed down her staircase, contemporary art is still able to provoke surprise, anxiety, and angerand not just in the hearts of Hilton Kramer and Rudolph Giuliani.
I recently wrote on Lars von Triers Antichrist and much of what I wondered about was the makers intention. Specifically, what was von Triers choice and what was a mistake?
The term consciousness raising may rankle or alienate a contemporary audience. Perhaps it seems like a relic of a bygone age or, worse, calls to mind the worst excesses of politically correct activism.
Roy Anderssons world is a bleak place peopled by lonely individuals who inhabit drab monochromatic rooms. Like zombies, the inhabitants trudge across the gloomy cityscape wearing pale, ghoulish makeup.