Day 1 – Saturday, February 9

Natalia Ames loved Fernando Eimbcke's competition entry Lake Tahoe
Shaibu Husseini reviews Brad Anderson's Transsiberian
Ben Cho on Slingshot, Brillante Mendoza's survey of Manila slumlife
Dilek Aydin enjoyed the Patti Smith portray Dream of Life
Ezequiel Schmoller asks what the Talent Campus participants are expecting
Suchandrika Chakrabarti reviews Eran Riklis' Lemon Tree
Martyna Olszowska made a tour through the Talent Campus
Mayank Shekhar about composers of film music

Finding Subtle Humor in Grief
By Natalia Ames

A feeling of orphanhood travels through the Competition film Lake Tahoe, a film about loss and mourning, and the different ways death affects people living under the same roof. This is a melancholic comedy with a recognizable visual personality and a fresh sense of humor founded on subtly funny performances.

The director Fernando Eimbcke (who was participant at the Berlinale Talent Campus in 2003) uses still shots throughout the film as the visual rule par excellence: we see the main character, Juan, walking around his neighborhood after he has crashed his car. Eimbcke refuses to follow his character with traveling shots: he shows Juan entering the frame, walking through it and getting out, waiting a few seconds to pass to another scene. This mechanism gives the narrative a special tempo; we have time to think and wonder what is happening with this quiet kid, who seems indifferent to the people he meets: an old mechanic whose only company is a friendly dog, a teenage mother who is more interested in her favorite music band than in her baby, a boy obsessed with martial arts, shaolin monks and Bruce Lee.

Progressively we learn more about Juan and his family, who are in the middle of an emotional crisis. Diego Catano conveys through his body language and facial gestures a feeling of disconnection with what is happening around him. But his grief finds an outlet in explosions that seem like islands of deep sadness in the middle of a daily environment.

Although the theme of the movie and the dry landscape make us think of a personal tragedy, the key in which the story is told makes us laugh, just as in Duck Season (Temporada de patos), Eimbcke's first movie. Lake Tahoe and Duck Season share a sense of careful framing and both movies give us bizarre characters in strangely comic situations, showing that this director is consistently building a personal style. Of course, after his second movie is included in the Official Competition of the Berlinale, we cannot say anymore that Eimbcke is a promise; he has already become a fulfillment of a promise. (Natalia Ames)

The Chilly Road to an End
By Shaibu Husseini

It doesn't matter who killed whom in Brad Anderson's Transsiberian (Spain/Germany, featuring the Berlinale Panorama). At the movie's core are the issues of trans-border cruelty, betrayal and an affair that entangles a married couple and their close friend.

The movie opens in a Far East town of Russia, but it plays out on a long train ride. An estranged couple, Roy and Jessie (Woody Harrelson, Emily Mortimer), decide an adventure might ease their marital problems. Midway through the journey, they meet Abby and Carlos (Kate Mara, Eduardo Noriega), who have a self-professed history of criminal activities. From here, different levels of intrigue set in. Someone disappears; the cops are on another character's trail; a seduction attempt meets a chilly end. 

Harrelson is splendid as Roy. He disappears into his role and maintains a gait that commands attention. The same goes for Mortimer's Jessie. She communicates, snugly, the pathos of her character. Thomas Kretschmann, as detective Myassa, keeps a stern look and maintains a clinical carriage that real cops would envy.

Transsiberian is well paced and maintains a power to awe from start to finish. A fluid combination of humour and lurking darkness pervades the film. The script, camera work and entire production design are tight. Anderson takes an unpredictable approach that keeps you wondering what's going to happen. Although the movie has a convoluted end, its unpredictability and some tear-stained moments are what make it tick. (Shaibu Husseini)

Manila's Davids and Goliaths
By Ben Cho

At one point in Brillante Mendoza's harrowing survey of Manila slum-life, Slingshot (Tirador, Philippines, featuring the Berlinale Forum), a young girl is rolling around on a floor smeared with her own excrement. Her father is too busy fixing a fan to attend to the child and we soon learn that she was eating her own faces out of sheer hunger. This scene typifies the squalor, desperation, chaos and hopelessness at the core of the film's setting – the bustling, dilapidated district of Quiapo in Manila. Mendoza never shies away from nailing the devastating gutter-level realities of those at the bottom rung of Manila's social hierarchy and Quiapo is presented as a hellish slum teeming with gambling, cock-fighting, movie piracy, gang-brawls and petty theft. With recent DV work by Khavn, John Torres, Lav Diaz and Auraeus Solito firmly focused on the poorer sectors of Filipino society, Slingshot is further evidence that we're in the midst of some kind of cine-renaissance.

Complementing the (barely) organized chaos within the film's locales, the narrative fluidly switches between a number of Quiapo's inhabitants as the camera nervously darts through various alleyways and streets catching one person here, another there: a young woman who saved (and stole) enough for a new set of dentures, a petty thief, a guy whose girlfriend is cheating on him, a young man coping with the death of his father and a teen who gets on the wrong side of police brutality. In line with the hyper-realism there's no pre-ordained hand guiding these citizens to some ultimate payoff nor do their stories follow conventional story-arcs.

What Mendoza seems to be driving at is capturing the living conditions that allow slippery politicians/authoritarians and organized religion to take such a vice-like grip on people's lives. In one of the film's more ironic moments a teen gets tortured by a cop only to be released from a squad car emblazoned with "To Serve and Protect". Elsewhere aspiring politicians hand out wads of cash for votes. Nothing quite matches the jet-black humor of the final moments though as a pickpocket goes to work at a religious / political rally, a timely reminder that empty sloganeering and blind faith doesn't put food on the table. (Ben Cho)

Songs of Innocence and Experience by Patti Smith
By Dilek Aydin

Patti Smith is not just fascinating but she is also really intimate in Dream Of Life. In each scene you can witness her being "a worker, a mother, an artist and a human being", as she puts forward in her own words. All her pains and joys are caught beautifully by Steven Sebrings' camera. It's like a kaleidoscopic experience of Patti Smith herself. She turns into a wild river on the stage, then a mild mother with her children, then a mourning queen in front of the graves of Blake, Rimbaud and her other beloved poets. She is so transparent that the camera goes through her reflecting all the colors and light. Seamless transitions from film to photographs or from photographs to film perfectly suit her journey through the lucky and unlucky accidents of her life. Her songs and poems come and go between innocence and experience. We keep track of her as one of the most important figures of 1970s New York underground. It is not a contrived process. We just sense her rapidly changing life through songs, poems, memories and snapshots so smooth and softly. Her daily life, on the stage or backstage or in her room, give many clues about her essence. Sebrings' sometimes impulsive but always sophisticated images get more and more in harmony with Patti Smith's faith in her dream of life. Through the film, she portrays herself as an artist who betrays neither her art nor her ideology. Her activism together with her consistency subtly proves her as a rebel with a cause.

Being far away from the usual MTV way of portraying a star, Sebrings is right trusting Patti Smith's sincerity while following her along the years. Eleven years of filming bears its fruit; the beautiful grainy texture of 16mm film and many spontaneous moments make Dream Of Life one of the best documentaries made about a music icon. Just like Patti Smith deserves. (Dilek Aydin)

Open Season
By Ezequiel Schmoller

With all 350 participants in this year's Berlinale Talent Campus safely installed in Berlin, it's time to ask what exactly they all are looking to achieve during the coming week.

A sampling of opinions in the hostels and the three HAU locations south of Potsdamer Platz yielded the following responses, among others: "Sharing problems and finding solutions", "Watching films",  "Meeting people from other countries who share my interests",  "Exchanging ideas", "Making contacts for the future", "Meeting producers interested in my work", or "Meeting film-makers with interesting projects to produce".

Zara Hayes came from London with an unusual idea for a documentary-essay film. She is planning to "update" George Orwell's "The Road to Wigan Pier". That is, she wants to follow the same path taken by the British writer 70 years ago. What happened to the industrial north of England which Orwell depicted and analyzed in 1937? Moreover, what happened to the concept of "working class"? How has it changed over the years? Zara arrived two days ago and has already participated in the Concept Development Day, where she along with many others presented her projects and ideas. Everyone enrolled in the Script & Doc Station will have a chance to get feedback from other Talents, mentors and experts, and to discuss styles, methods and ideas. And, of course, to talk about their projects with producers.

Projects at the Campus are in various stages of production. Some Talents come to Berlin with just an idea, some with a script, while others have already begun shooting. Sabrina Moreno, an Argentine filmmaker, is planning to shoot a road movie about the break-up of a family. In the Script Station of the Campus she will have the chance to polish and improve her screenplay along with her mentor and other experts.

Not everyone, however, comes to Berlin with an idea or a script for a film. Some come to... make one on the spot! Neveen Shalaby, an Egyptian editor, is participating in the Garage Studio of the Campus. She will have to make, along with her team, a five-minute film in one day. And if one day for five minutes seems a very short time, let's not forget that Edgar G. Ulmer made a full-length feature film, The Detour (1945) in seven days. So Neveen should be able to cope with the challenge.

A week from now, we shall know if everyone's goals and expectations were fulfilled. Let the show begin. (Ezequiel Schmoller)

Blood, Politics, A Lemon Grove
By Suchandrika Chakrabarti

"I wish I could be a better neighbor to her... there's too much blood, too much politics, a lemon grove between us," the Israeli Defense Minister's wife, Mira, says of the Palestinian next door, giving us a neat summary of the central conflict in Eran Riklis' Lemon Tree (Shajarat lmon/Etz Halimon, Israel/France/Germany).

Israeli-Palestinian tensions are played out in miniature — at least to begin with — over a lonely widow's lemon grove on the Israeli-West Bank border. Starring the lead actress, Hiam Abbass (Paradise Now), from Riklis' 2004 The Syrian Bride, and continuing its major theme, Lemon Tree also looks at the human cost of border politics.

Set in the Zur HaSharon, Salma's lemon grove — planted fifty years before by her late, beloved father — comes under threat when the Israeli Defense Minister moves in next door, and the Secret Service deems her trees a potential haven for terrorists. He wants the trees to be uprooted; she takes her fight to the Israeli Supreme Court in Jerusalem.

It's a journey that takes Salma from the warmly-lit, domestic familiarity of her kitchen to the glaring, harsh lights of the paparazzi and international press at the court. The lemon grove itself becomes a symbol of Salma's oppression. Under her care, it is full of lush, fertile trees, but, after the Israelis fence it off and ban her from entering, the plants slowly die, the lemons thudding to the ground.

As the Defense Minister's wife, Rona Lipaz-Michael has, arguably, the hardest job. As the only character sympathetic to Salma's reaction, their intense looks over the fenced-in grove could easily become a clichéd tale of one woman taking the other's side, while the men get cracking with the tree-hacking. However, her bold remarks to the press and disobedience of her bodyguards make her more likeable, while her compassion for Salma makes her the moral voice in Israel's household.

Riklis' moving film humanizes the larger problems between the nations, sensibly avoiding any obvious solutions or over-generous poetic justice. As Ziad, Salma's lawyer, puts it, "it appears that only in America can you have a happy end." (Suchandrika Chakrabarti)

The Perfect Moment
By Martyna Olszowska

Nearly two hundred people are seated across from each other with a mere three minutes to find out how they tick, before switching seats to encounter a new face. This is "Global Speed Matching", which takes place during the Berlinale Talent Campus, an occasion for young filmmakers from all over the world to meet one another.  These daily sessions are arranged by Skillset, a principal sponsor of the Campus, and have become a staple of the program.

The sound of loud talking can be heard from the entrance of the HAU 2, punctuated by shrill blasts on a whistle. The noise is even louder inside the room where everything is happening. There are almost a hundred white boxes on which young directors, screenwriters and cinematographers are squatting, hoping to meet someone to cooperate with in the future. In each three minutes consists of a quick handshake, an introduction, and then it's time for the talking to start. Sometimes it's about movies, sometimes about various adventures in Berlin, or just chatting about a haircut.

"Mostly I expect to find out what the situation of young people interested in filmmaking really looks like in other countries," says Paula, a director from Brazil. They exchange opinions, and talk about their expectations, their dreams. "I hope that I'll meet lots of friends here," smiles Clarissa, another director – from the Philippines. "I am interested in the film industry in other countries and, of course, I hope that I will run into people I can collaborate with. In fact, I have already found someone..." she adds.

Scores of email addresses have been exchanged today. A lot of new acquaintances made. One is amazed by how all these individuals, from around a hundred countries, are bound together by their passion for the cinema. Speed Matching looks like an extraordinary phenomenon, but there is no doubt that it actually works. "You're a composer?", asks someone. "That's great! That's perfect for me." For many of them this afternoon's experience has been "perfect" too, even if it may just be getting familiar with a different point of view on filmmaking, or the world in general. (Martyna Olszowska)

A Score to Settle!
by Mayank Shekhar

In a tiny room at a quiet neighborhood off Bülowstraße in central Berlin, there is nothing to break the usual sounds of weekend-silence, not much activity around. We see small monitors that already have films in place.

On one screen, a neat Volkswagen car drives off from its factory in Wolfsburg, across the world's biggest cities. It's a commercial spot, selling Volkswagen, of course. On the other monitor lie more interesting images: idle, little girl hop-skips through a lazy day in the countryside, undisturbed and unattended to. Both films say enough. Neither talks. Two composers, deep under electronic paraphernalia in adjacent rooms, have their music to go with the visuals. The work's probably done, hence a quiet room: a minor bit about syncing sound to images remains.

Only when we speak to Sonal Shah and Conrad Oleak (the third Volkswagen Score competitor, Vasco Hexel, from the UK is yet to come in), we realize that the nitty-gritty about making eyes and ears meet has taken them almost a round-the-clock week. There's another to go. We've merely caught them on a break. One of the Berlinale Talent Campus composers will do a paid-vacation to sound studios in Los Angeles.

Both Sonal (28) from India, a guitarist, and Conrad (30), a local pop-pianist, have scored for television and short-films. The evening before, when the Babelsberg Orchestra turned their "sheet music" into an elaborate symphony, it was, as they chorused separately, a phenomenal experience. "You just cannot get used to such an honor," Sonal says. Beyond the common honor, their music itself, in post-production now, couldn't have been more different.

The Volkswagen commercial seems elementary to lend sound to. It's in the interpretation of the short-film where Sonal's treatment appears more of a music-video's. Conrad's background-track, full of natural sounds, portends things to come, as if the film were a thriller, a whodunnit or an eerie horror short: pure instances of how music alone can change a film's genre.

Just as we anticipate something to happen in Conrad's musical version (nothing will), the nervous competitors say they've been waiting for their mentor, Academy Award-winning composer Gustavo Santaolalla (Babel, Brokeback Mountain) to sample their scratches later in the evening. An otherwise minimalist Santaolalla may (or may not) be instantly pleased with his protégés. It looks like there's a lot more to be done. (Mayank Shekhar)

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