It’s Che day. Steven Soderbergh’s Guevara epic has its world premiere this evening at 6:30, and as of this 9am writing, ticket-less gawkers are already lining up outside the Palais, some with Cuban cigars, all with signs declaring their need tickets. From a press and industry perspective, people are definitely talking about the film, but everyone seems less interested in what’s going to be on screen tonight than in how it’ll eventually be seen.
Che is screening here for the press and the public as a single, four-hour film, but it’s playing in the market for buyers as two separate pieces, The Argentine and The Guerilla. This leaves open a number of possibilities: a) the film(s) could be released franchise style, ala Kill Bill; b) the two films could be picked up by different distributors (unlikely, but not impossible); and c) one half of Che could be seen theatrically whilst the other does not. Rumor has it that the second half of the story is currently in better shape than the first; it remains to be seen what would be lost if half of Che was demoted to straight-to-DVD.
And then there’s the competition. The competing film so far most popular with critics is probably Arnaud Desplechin’s Un Conte De Noel, a messy masterpiece of a family drama that––we think––has absolutely no shot of impressing a jury under Sean Penn’s mandate to give the Palme D’Or to a filmmaker “very aware of the times in which he lives.” If we’re to take that pullquote to mean that Penn intends to select a film with Something to Say about the horrors of war, than Waltz with Bashir is the only competition feature to screen thus far that really applies, and buzz on that one seems to be petering out as the fest moves along. There’s certainly room for Che to make an impression, especially on a jury with more than one prominent Hollywood name, who may be inclined to hail one of their own; again, as of this writing, it’s too early to say whether or not the film will deserve it.
One film that *doesn’t* deserve plaudits, but which may be able to ride the wave of relevancy to release nonetheless, is Born in 68, an 173 minute French prestige film screening in the Marche. Laetitia Casta stars as a young libertine who becomes involved with two student wannabe revolutionaries in Paris in May 1968. The three move to a farm and start a commune and have babies and make a lot of expository statements about whether or not they’re Doing Anything For The Cause. After the first hour, the film moves through years at a laughable pace (watch Baye’s hair become progressively grayer so that she doesn’t have to act!), and eventually tracks the children born on the commune through the 80s and 90s.
There’s potentially a thread of interesting critique going on here: the 60s counter culture was in theory about changing the world, but in practice, it was really about sex, drugs and theory; future generations picked up the mantle, but left the theory behind, dispensing with the charade that a youthful interest in politics is anything but excuse to party. Casta’s son celebrates the fall of the Berlin Wall by hooking up at a gay bar to the sound of “99 Luftbaloons,” but is this any worse than his mom, responding to the riots of ‘68 by abandoning Paris in order to make babies, goat cheese, and have stony orgies? Interesting stuff, but unfortunately, the film doesn’t really take it up, preferring instead to indulge in the soap opera aspects of the story (although, I must admit: when said gay character announced in the late 80s that he was waiting for the results of some blood tests, I walked out). Hell, who am I to complain––at least it makes for a lot of nudity.
Born in 68 isn’t terribly made––it’s actually shot rather beautifully, although the script could use some work––but it is offensively milquetoast. It’s basically the French The Best of Youth, which was in turn the Italian Forrest Gump. I guess we’re looking at a new genre: the Overlong Ensemble Piece Condensing 40 Years of a Single Country’s History As Seen By Innocents With A Knack For Showing Up At The Right Place At The Right Time. The fact that only one of these movies is blatantly about a person with mental deficiencies is only a technicality.
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