L I M T E D
CAPE WINELANDS FILM FESTIVAL
SOUTH AFRICA
MARCH 2011
BLOG BY PAUL HILLS
Part 1/4
Just as you think there are no more festivals, one more arrives. I have never been to Africa before (with the exception of Morocco and Egypt). How could I miss this opportunity?
Earlier, on the tube to Heathrow, I got on with a couple of stops to go and see down the end of the carriage, Steve Di Marco. I take a picture of him and then he does the same. This will be Steve’s first trip outside of Europe. Neither Jonnie, Julie, Marc nor Grace were able to come. It will just be the two of us. A few eyebrows were raised at the length of time I will spend with Steve, one person intimating that his endless innocent naivety will lead me eventually to strangling him on the trip. We will see!
7.18am Tuesday 15th March
We are now in Doha, changing plane for Johannesburg then Cape Town. Qatar is like the moon, a desolate desert landscape in the middle of the Persian gulf. On my return journey, I have 5 hours here and plan to take a taxi in to town to “see it.”
Before the trip, I told Steve to bring a book to read. So far he hasn’t read a word. Instead he watches films on the tiny screen. Considering this is his first long haul flight, he seems to be bearing up well. I’ve only watched John Huston’s “The man who would be king” which I hadn’t seen for twenty years. As a cinema lover, this tiny screen feels to me like ‘anti-cinema’. Instead I have read two scripts and a hundred pages of my book on the Thirty Years War. I have another three scripts for the journey back.
8.11pm
We’re in a car travelling away from Cape Town towards Stellenbosch, where most of the festival screenings will take place. It is the main town of the Cape Winelands region. Out of the window I see many vineyards, a contrast to the foreboding, fence enclosed endless mass of shacks that is the Township of Kayelitcha that we passed earlier. Although Cape Town has 1.2m inhabitants, the townships around it have about 2.5m.
We are being driven by a friendly Cape Malay Capetonian called Shaheed. He is an Arsenal supporter so we have talked football the whole journey. He seems impressed when I tell him the sounds of the Arsenal games carry across Clissold Park into my apartment on night games. He’s told me that his South African team “Ajax Capetown” will be playing tomorrow night. It’s a pity that tomorrow is the opening party of the festival, otherwise I would go with him.
Earlier we had walked out through the arrival lounge missing Shaheed. Outside the airport is a huge statue of an elephant. Hopefully, that is a good sign!
11.55pm
I’m now playing backgammon with Steve by the pool. I hope to make some spending money this way but thus far, he has been very fortunate! Our hotel is a Dutch Colonial style lodge. It is simple and authentic, not at all modern. I am already sampling a local brandy.
In a final twist, I have been assigned a twin room with Steve. I hate sharing a twin room but have accepted it with fatalism. Steve, I think, is more put out. I pushed and pulled Steve’s bed across the room to the furthest possible point away from mine and rearranged the furniture such that he will not be visible. I hope thus, at night, I can forget he is there!
11.01am Wednesday 16th March
This morning at Breakfast I started talking to a Brazilian man, thinking he was a fellow film-maker. It turned out his name is Joao Luiz Vieira, a film academian and expert on Brazilian Cinema Novo. Joao is head of the feature film jury. I then met Keo Souvannavong, a Laosian-French journalist who is also a member of the feature jury. As chance will have it, I have met two of the three jury members right at the start of the festival. Although good, it means I must be on my best behaviour right from the start. Due to saying the wrong thing in a Q&A at the San Sebastian film festival in 1996 (the most prestigious festival I have attended), I feel I lost the award. I have never forgiven myself for that.
The great thing I learn in the first 30 minutes of meeting Joao is that he is a fellow cinephile, a cinemaniac. That probably means that the jury will make an honest decision. The best film will win etc. Many juries at festivals are full of people who “like” film but only at quality festivals are the jury really qualified. When I say qualified, I mean they know and love cinema intimately (from silent period to the modern day). Joao confesses to me that he sees on average a film every day of his life. As I see 350+ films a year (about half in a cinema), I confess the same thing. Without that knowledge all decisions are subjective. People say to me “how can you choose between two films so different?” The answer is knowledge.
Along with Shem Shemy, a friendly Israeli film-maker, the 5 of us are now travelling through the beautiful countryside towards the Cape of Good Hope. It is a sight seeing day that I tagged us on to last night.
Steve got bitten in the night by insects but thus far I am unharmed.
7.10pm
I am now getting ready for the opening night party. Downstairs Greg Corke is waiting with Steve. Greg is a friend of mine from across the poker table (“The Rock” I christened him). He is a professional Armourer and is here in Cape Town working on a Denzel Washington film called “Safe House”. He also has the distinction of being an investor in our film. I have invited him to the Opening party and will give him my accreditation in case of a problem.
Earlier we saw the African Penguin colony as well as the Baboons that live on Cape Point. A sign there told me we are 9623km from London. Surprisingly, I learn that Cape point is not the southern tip of Africa. That distinction goes to a far less famous Cape to the east. The winds battered us at the point, relieving some of the discomfort from the hot African sun. We then drove to the edge of Cape Town but didn’t go up to table mountain as the cable car had technical problems. I will try to do it later in my trip. For someone who suffers vertigo, the reprieve was a relief.
9.42am Thursday 17th March
The main location of the film festival, The Oude Libertas, is in an art complex in the middle of a vineyard. Because of transport confusion we arrived last night in the middle of the opening party. I guessed who the festival director was instantly. The tell-tale signs of stress and lack of sleep are already playing on the face of Leon van de Merve, the festival director. Luckily, he is not literally perspiring with it, like I found at the opening party in Phuket. Leon offered us a warm welcome.
The opening film was a documentary about reconciliation here in South Africa. Many luminaries were in the audience. The South African Minister for culture gave a speech before the screening, saying that not only him but the whole cabinet is supporting this film festival. It made me think how different things are in the UK film industry. After the film there was a Q&A with the producer and with ANC activists featured in the film and then another reception. I was very aware all night that having for years seen and heard of apartheid and Mandela’s miracle of reconciliation, for the first time, I am now getting experience of it. As people left, I gave out cards for our film and told them they should come see it - much to Steve and Greg’s amusement. Seeing the score, though, Greg and Steve joined me in talking up our film in the hope of increasing our audience. One man who I gave a card to, told me a story of when he was in the deep jungle and there was rainstorm, a huge procession of elephants walked into a clearing and how the large bull elephant did a kind of raindance on a hillock. He concluded with “So, I know for sure. Elephants DO pray.”
Later, we went out in the town and met some locals. I asked someone why no-one in South Africa has a beard.
“No-one wants to look like Eugene Terrablanche” was the reply!
Now we are waiting for Shaheed. I’ve bet with Steve on the time of arrival. My guess is that last night’s confusion is a presentiment of things to come and the adage that “The English have watches, the Africans have time” will hold true. Steve is covered in even more insect bites. He has been utterly savaged by them and wants to go to a pharmacist to get some ointment. Again, I am untouched.
12.16pm
Shaheed turned up at the right time to win me r50 from Steve. He was very happy as Ajax Cape Town won 3-1 last night to leap frog their opponents and go to the top of the table.
We have now seen the first of twenty eight (!) films in competition; a Bulgarian film called “Kosmos” that was official selection in Berlin. Despite the town being plastered with posters, the audience was small; Steve, me, 3 normal people, a couple of other film-makers and the 3 jury members. The third member of the jury is Zulfah Otto Sallies, a well known Cape Malay Muslim South African playwright, author, poet and film-maker. She wasn’t at the opening party nor the screening.
I loved “Kosmos”. Although not perfect, I think it’s absolutely brilliant and plays out almost like a sufi story. If this is symptomatic of our competition, we are in BIG trouble here. It will be hard to keep out perfect festival record. I’ve just spoken to Leon and asked about the selection process. He told me of the 720 submissions and how they brought that down to 180 by filtering them through two committee’s and scoring each film. I manage to get out of him that Kosmos was top of the scores from both committee’s. That’s a relief, but on the other hand, those committee’s are probably made up of people who “like” rather than “love” film… On the faces of the jury members after the screening I was unable to discern any visible reaction.
Now I am about to take the opportunity to see “Black God. White Devil” a classic Brazilian film from 1964, that I have missed up until now.
10.14pm
I’m playing backgammon with Steve again (he’s still lucky). “Certified Copy”, my favourite film in Cannes last year, is playing tonight, so after the reception with the French Consul, we skipped back to the hotel for a quiet night. Steve has learnt “Sal Olifante Bid?” as a rough Afrikaans translation of our film and is repeating it over and over gain. Personally, I’d rather learn the Xhosa or Kosian translation.
This afternoon was our first screening. Despite initial problems, I was able to do a damn good technical check of our film thanks to the care and attention of Tania, the head projectionist here. If nothing else we had the very best projection we could have had. The audience was poor though, but three times as large as the two films we had seen earlier in the day. At least it’s not as bad as Phuket. Three people from last night’s party came because of my personal invitation which is something. I introduced the film welcoming everyone to the “African premier” of the film and told them a brief history of the production. After wandering around for a while on my own (Steve was taken to a doctor about his bites), I returned to the auditorium for the final scene. As the lights came up over the end credits, I saw that Joao was tapping his pen against his notes in time to the music. He definitely liked the film. The other two jury members had enigmatic smiles on their faces but nothing else. Shem Shemy asked “From that film I would guess you are a romantic, am I right?”
“Guilty as charged.”
The next question was “Why did you use advertising as the contrast to the world of the forest?” but the Q& A was poor and thus I thought people hadn’t responded to the film. Steve missed the Q&A due to his bites. Now he seems much better but is covered with brown coloured cream. Tania, the projectionist, said to him “What do you expect? This is Africa!”
I’m still untouched.
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