Film: Once, S&Man

Future Screenings: Once: No future screenings scheduled, but after two sold-out screenings, look for it in Festival Favorites!
S&Man: No future screenings scheduled

Once
I only planned to see Once because it stars Glen Hansard of Irish band The Frames, and I'm reviewing their upcoming show (more on that in a few weeks). I've had their latest CD for a while, but I've only had time to listen once, and I was cleaning my apartment, so not really listening carefully enough to form an opinion about the band. So I really didn't know what to expect from the film. But I certainly didn't expect that it would be a sold-out screening. I strolled in to my 5:15 showing at 5:00, thinking I'd be just fine, and ended up sitting in the third row from the front. And I had to fight for that seat.

One of the great things about Once, as opposed to many of the other films I've seen in the festival so far, is that it was projected on film, rather than from a DVD player. That's probably because the film was actually completed this year, so it's not yet been released on DVD, even in Ireland. Call me old-fashioned, but there's something that's just more satisfying about watching a film that's actually a film.

But even if Once were a DVD, hell, even if it were being played on a twelve-inch screen, I'd still find it not only satisfying, but also surprisingly beautiful. Hansard and his real-life collaborator, Markéta Irglová, turn in beautifully acted performances, bursting at the seems with sweet, chaste romance that somehow manages to escape delving into the realm of "corny"—maybe because it refuses to end conventionally. The film is light on dialogue because most of the story is told in song: not in a musical theatre kind of way, in which songs act as dialogue, but rather through simple, lo-fi indie pop with gorgeous lyrics that are only pertinent to the plot inasmuch as lyrics tend to be pertinent to a lyricist's life—fictional or not.

My only criticism of Once is what prevents it from earning a rating of "Excellent:" the dizzying hand-held camerawork in many scenes. Blair Witch came out a decade ago, people. I know you're trying to shoot on a low budget, but it's not hard to put a tripod on wheels. My advice to the audience? Close your eyes and listen to the music if the camerawork gets to be too much.
Festival rating: Very Good.

S&Man
Take another look at the title, folks, because it's phonetic. "S & Man... S And Man... Sandman!" However, the obvious "S&M" in the name is by no means accidental, even if this isn't your father's bondage.

S&Man is actually the name of a series of "horror" films made by Eric Rost, in which women are followed for a length of time, then eventually approached by Eric himself, and "snuffed." The movies are frighteningly realistic—so much so that I asked a friend to walk me home after the screening, something that I rarely do—and suspicion is intentionally raised by filmmaker JT Petty as to whether the S&Man series is fake like it claims to be. Petty also explores the genre extensively through interviews with horror directors and performers, as well as author Carol Clover and a couple of sex therapists who specialize in paraphilia.

And while it all sounds terribly interesting on paper, and might actually be interesting to genre fans and viewers with strong stomachs, I don't remember the last time I hated watching a movie this much. Not even Consequences: that was just a bad movie. S&Man is... well, it's well-researched, sometimes funny, and obviously professionally-produced by a man who loves his subject. But it's targeted at a pretty narrow audience (after the film, Petty himself mentioned that the cut we saw last night was far less violent than the original, as he wanted to have a wider audience appeal—I'm not sure to what extent he succeeded at this goal, but I will say that if all of the "snuff" scenes had been left in, I'd have probably walked out within five minutes), and just generally unpalatable. It's confrontational, full of shock and awe (of a non-political nature), and way, way too disturbing for my taste. I can't give it a "poor" rating, legitimately, but I'd sure like to.
Festival rating: Fair