2010 in Review: Best Actress in a Leading Role

2010 Addict Awards

Best Actress in a Leading Role

Juliette Binoche, "Certified Copy"

Taken from review:

Binoche gives Elle startling complexity, flirting with the active courage of a teenager, and cunningly baying James to play along in her playground fantasy. She colours her impassioned silent hope with bitter self-realised existential crisis, painfully unable to quash the mentality that keeps her family in a tentatively ephemeral state.

Furthermore:

A re-watch proved even more beneficial in terms of assessing the performance, since there is a shift in dynamic midway through the film. Particularly in the scenes where she's driving, Binoche shows an increasing lack of tolerance (probably born out of the fact that she is essentially in control of where they're going for once) and her inflections match the tension of the exchange, while remaining inherently joyous about the promise of the day ahead. It's a beautifully-acted segment. 

* Jeong-hie Yun, “Poetry” *

The very idea of somebody's desire to write poetry co-inciding with a devolved act by a member of their family feels a bit contrived, but Lee Chang-dong's film manages to say an awful lot through this technique that it becomes a bit of a moot point. Yun, the Twiggy of the older generation (in agelessness if not stature), festers gladly upon the many compliments to her cutesy appearance with unmistakable pride — she knows her own strengths and limitations. When she finds out what has been going on under her nose she grows ever more bemused with her role; unsure of herself, angry with life and literature, and as she charts the inner struggle between her moral and familial responsibilities Yun displays a revelatory burden of composed, introspective grief.

Nicole Kidman, "Rabbit Hole"

Nicole Kidman, and to an extent, "Rabbit Hole" itself, is much more cynical about grief than one would expect. This helps to make her character Becca more accessible, in the sense that she has a faux-objective impression of her plight, casting judgements on couples at her counselling group for using religion as a coping mechanism. There's an element of elitism in the inhibited self-importance Kidman brings to Becca; the 'victim' that nobody can ever relate to. While Kidman telegraphs the aloof, partitioned rigidity of Becca, she also carves a personality for this woman, impulsively open to avenues that feel instinctive to her; following them with the pepetually aimless nature of a woman with little decision left.

Yahima Torres, "Black Venus"

Taken from review:

Yahima Torres gives a display that is so introspectively devastating that it defies belief. Often an escalating vessel for the film’s thematic presentation, rather than an active proponent within the narrative study, her moves to suggest Saartije’s ideological shifts (both past and present) add valuable substance to the character. As she gives a personal account to a packed courtroom she states, “I am an Actress,” with such an inflected sense of motioned duty, realising just as she utters the words that they are ridiculous. Torres reveals Saartije’s sense of performance, ensconced in a culture that shuns any real esteem, her bemusement with science reflecting that, on some level, she has accepted what she has become.

Michelle Williams, "Blue Valentine"

While Ryan Gosling's character most radically alters through the course of the film, Michelle Williams' Cindy has an altogether more curious arc. One of Williams' best assets as an Actress is in her absence of belonging; how she manages to cast bursts of fierce emotion unnervingly off-the cuff, and yet also make them seem like a deceptively natural progression. Her style of acting is very understated (some suggest too so) but she remains able to register with the intricacies of Cindy's initial cautious approach to her relationship with Dean, and the later realisation that she took the easy option (if not necessarily the wrong one) in accepting his advances in the first place. 

Exceptional Runners Up: Natalie Portman, "Black Swan"; Isabelle Carre, "The Refuge"; Emma Stone, "Easy A"; Catherine Deneuve, "Potiche"; Sally Hawkins, "Made in Dagenham"; Greta Gerwig, "Greenberg"; Annette Bening, "The Kids Are All Right"

Worthy of Note: Lesley Manville, "Another Year"; Jennifer Lawrence, "Winter's Bone"; Irene de Angelis, "Dark Love"; Tilda Swinton, "I Am Love"; Rinko Kikuchi, "Norwegian Wood"; Julianne Moore, "The Kids Are All Right"; Rebecca Hall, "Please Give"

Venice Film Festival 2010: A Review of "Black Venus"

Black Venus (Vénus noire)

Directed by Abdellatif Kechiche

Starring: Yahima Torres, Andre Jacobs, Olivier Gourmet, Elina Löwensohn, Jonathan Pienaar

Grade: B

While some will attest that the armless Venus De Milo is a work of art, actual physical faults are treated with considerably less vigour – even when they’re a result of nature itself. The Venus in Abdellatif Kechiche’s biographical drama never comes close to attaining the stature of a God, but nevertheless provides the basis for a fascinating meditation on how one can be judged by the sum of their apparent parts.

The Venus in question is one Saartije ‘Sarah’ Bartman (Torres), who has been brought to England by Hendrick Caezar, a entrepreneur who believes he can find a niche within London’s entertainment industry in the early 1800’s. He markets the woman, whose sagging breasts and abnormally huge buttocks (as well as her African descent) turn heads, as the “Hottentot Venus”, creating a show around her alien features and exploiting his public’s general fear of the unknown. This vision extends to incorporate Saartije as a star, but does so by compromising the grace of the woman for an approach that emphasises her as a dangerous freak of nature.

Kechiche’s depiction of nineteenth-century London successfully brings the squalor of the city to the fore, gaudily presenting the low-brow tastes of working class, pre-Victorian England, and all of its sensationalist hypocrisy. In the very first scene there we sense that this is an ugly place to reside, the folk attracted to businessman Caezar’s star attraction tangibly beying to be entertained, and gladly feasting on the novelty of an unusually-shaped African woman. Saartije is playing along with the theatrical aspect of the turn, engaging in tribal-style dancing, and behaving like an aggressive animal whenever a member of the audience dares to approach her.

Even if the unsightly deformities and circus escapades suggest that “Black Venus” be some feminised form of The Elephant Man, Saartije is at least aware of the meretricious aspects of the production, and appears to neither want nor need rescuing. The film addresses the implications of Caezar’s use of Saartije (whether she is his slave or his colleague) early on, profiling this case in a lengthy, over-staged courtroom scene that lathers tabloid-style brushstrokes onto the argument. It’s rather surprising that Saartije’s issue is held so firmly within the public sphere at all, an observation noted by the British bravura of a court official; “It is a credit to this country that it protects the interests of even a Negro woman.” As well as demonstrating a tongue-in-cheek criticism of the indefinitely flawed logic behind moral hierarchy, Kechiche asserts that individual accountability is a peripheral concern within his film, and as he formally deals with the motives behind Caezar’s governance of Saartije “Black Venus” becomes much more of an indictment of society’s failures than anything Caezar does personally.

The film’s primary theme of exploitation unravels slowly, Saartije’s iconisation as the “Venus” shrewdly de-humanising her as a commodity to indulge in. This is a completely different world from John Hurt’s refined surroundings, as Saartije has to contend with Parisian sex parties rather than formal dinners, but their journeys follow the common trope of the outsider’s need for acceptance. Black Venus stresses how one can become so dependent upon habitual pleasures, and bound by the constraints of a circle of friends, that we can so easily conform to a lifestyle that we haven’t chosen for ourselves. Social indoctrination can occur on a multitude of levels, and in this story Kechiche finds a way to demonstrate how a person’s unique qualities and attributes can be modulated to accommodate a certain gaze.

The richness of "Black Venus" and its assured sense of the period extends (and “extend” really is the key word here) to several lengthy scenes in which Saartije is on display, gyrating her hips and bearing her teeth. As a debilitation of her dignity and condition the surfeit of spectacles serve a purpose, but Saartije’s fetishisation leads to a disconnection between her and the audience. Kechiche seems short on ideas to demonstrate the effect that British life has had on her, opting instead to distract with displays of degrading 19th century pornography. “Black Venus” and its prolonging of the inevitable is a torturous emotional device, which pads out the film to a dauntingly overlong 160 minutes and produces a dawning sense of the anti-climactic.

In the Venus role Yahima Torres – who, to my knowledge, doesn’t even have an IMDB page – gives a display that is so introspectively devastating that it defies belief. Often an escalating vessel for the film’s thematic presentation, rather than an active proponent within the narrative study, her moves to suggest Saartije’s ideological shifts (both past and present) add valuable substance to the character. As she gives a personal account to a packed courtroom she states, “I am an Actress,” with such an inflected sense of motioned duty, realising just as she utters the words that they are ridiculous. Torres reveals Saartije’s sense of performance, ensconced in a culture that shuns any real esteem, her bemusement with science reflecting that, on some level, she has accepted what she has become.

Although the film opens with a scientific lecture about the Black Venus and the cultural derivation of her various bodily intricacies, it then veers to a much looser, freer tone, almost mythologising the concrete knowledge already offered. This is not a well-known pocket of history, and so its sudden shift into a detached world reads as a way of spurning encyclopaedic technicalities and proclaiming that there was more about this woman than her female form. The sad truth about Saartije is that few people in the film realise this, her objectification in the five or six years of her life that “Black Venus” covers maintaining that the woman was never treated as anything other than an ephemeral study: her legacy defines her.

The film’s value lies in its ability to interconnect human sciences with medical science, genuinely accessible as an historical biopic of sorts, but never exclusively tied to a timeline. In avoiding becoming too self-righteous towards his subject Kechiche achieves a lot with his ambitiously-scoped examination of cultural ignorance, and integrates conventional biopic stamps into his outlandish topic. Even if a chunk of “Black Venus” could acceptably be consigned to the cutting room floor, it’s difficult to condemn its unrelenting vision, and the level of interest in its unique appeal makes for a thoroughly worthwhile experience.

Venice Awards Speculation (1): Festival Prize Predictions

Having only just recovered from yesterday's delayed slog back to the North of England, I'm now ready to provide some reaction to the Venice trip. As well as speculating on where the festival's awards may go (Guy Lodge has already stuck his two cents in), I'm also going to be discussing the Oscar potential of some of the films. I don't pretend to be a shrewd Oscar prognosticator, but talking about some of Venice's awards hopefuls in greater detail will hopefully convey my doubts about their ability to appeal to the Academy collective.

First to the anticipated festival prizes, which are even more difficult to judge given that it's essentially decided by seven people locked in a room until decisions are made. Add to that the fact that the head of those seven people is the off-the-wall auteur Quentin Tarantino, and things become even hazier.

Predictions as follows:

Golden Lion: "Black Venus"

Alternate: "Post Mortem"

A film that commands respect for a fascinating and hard-to-depict subject matter, even as it prolongs so many similar scenes and doesn't evolve to the state that one feels it should. Hard to argue with as a showcase piece.

Silver Lion: Kelly Reichardt for "Meek's Cutoff"

Alternate: Darren Aronofsky for "Black Swan"

Perhaps this is wishful thinking as I felt that these were the two most assured pieces of Direction. Reichardt's Western is sparse and delicate, even as it brings up difficult subjects. In any case, her film is a Director's film, and despite the less-than-enthusiastic overall response, I don't think this coup is out of the question.

Special Jury Prize: "Essential Killing"

Alternate: "Post Mortem"

I have a feeling that "Essential Killing" may be popular among the male-dominated jury, but that it won't win the top prize. I found it tiresome in the worst ways.

Volpi Cup - Best Actress: Yahima Torres for "Black Venus"

Alternate: Natalie Portman for "Black Swan"

If I was on the jury I'd be fighting tooth and nail for a Torres victory here, since I felt her performance was one of the most impacting, introspectively devastating things I've witnessed in a cinema for a long while. Her role is certainly the most sympathetic, and so I'd suggest that she be a strong favourite for this.

Volpi Cup - Best Actor: Vincent Gallo for "Essential Killing"

Alternate: Bruce Greenwood for "Meek's Cutoff"

Involved in three films at the festival; two of which he directed, and two of which he starred in. He's also rather handy in the Skolimowski picture, and has a no-dialogue gimmick that may work in his favour.

Screenplay Prize: Athina Rachel Tsangari for "Attenberg"

Alternate: Denis Osokin for "Silent Souls"

Two films that may fly in a tad under the radar, and that I've heard trusty positive word about. Again, if you're spreading the wealth (as so often happens), then these may even pop up in the above prizes.

Coming Up: Judging the Oscar potential of the Venice crop.