One of the big successes at this year's GFF has been the Japanese Strand, looking at some of the best contemporary work from one of the world centres of high quality cinema. Thursday saw the British première of one of its most eagerly anticipated constituents, Seicho Matsumoto adaptation Zero Focus. Matsumoto's thrillers are much admired in Japan, but sadly this one didn't translate too well for a Western audience, and several viewers I saw it with left complaining that the last half hour made no sense at all. A shame, because it was stunningly photographed, and intriguing from a literary point of view - just one of those things which one probably needs a very particular background to appreciate.
One thing everybody seemed to appreciate about Zero Focus was its fantastic costumes, especially those worn by Hizuru Takachiho's elegant femme fatale. Costume was very much the focus of the day, with the Fashion And Film Strand's biggest event happening that evening in arts venue SWG3. "It's the worst venue ever for access," said Stuart, explaining that attendees had to wander down a dark alley and climb a concrete staircase with no handrail to access the warehouse where the show was held, then go all the way outside again to visit a different building if they needed to use the toilet. Perhaps this was a ruse to discourage excessive consumption of the free drink on offer, but if so, it was a failure.
The show was scheduled to start with a screening of Comrade Couture, Marco Wilms' documentary tribute to the fashion designers of East Berlin who showed spectacular innovative skills in keeping style alive behind the iron curtain. Unfortunately, on the first attempt the film wouldn't start, and on the second its subtitles were missing. When somebody realised that the free drink at the bar wasn't limited to one glass per person, half the audience vacated its seats and decided to enjoy that instead. The film was eventually persuaded to work and was widely appreciated, as was the catwalk show that followed.
With little in the way of fashionable fabric to work with, East Berlin's designers made their way through the Eighties creating outfits out of domestic and industrial materials like the plastic sold for covering strawberries. Comrade Couture's accompanying show saw a succession of models parade down the catwalk in modern designer gear only to strip off halfway along and reveal tight fitting outfits or underwear in the East Berlin style. The event was followed by a party which went on late into the night.
Stuart had a long day the following day, covering two Q&A sessions at the GFT. Comic book artist Mark Millar talked about his career at 2000AD and Marvel and his contribution to films like Wanted; and later Peter Mullan discussed his work with the Scottish Production Archive and his latest film Neds, as well as chatting to fans. Outside later, he and Stuart discussed their mutual love of Mel Brooks style silly comedies and Stuart explained that the cast of Young Frankenstein had enjoyed making it so much that Brooks had written more script so they could keep working for longer, so now Peter Mullen is off to buy the DVD. We'll be bringing you more on his GFF appearance in the next few days.
It was all go at the GFT, with Harry Potter star and longtime festival supporter Sean Biggerstaff popping by for a chat and directors Aaron Aites and Audrey Ewell arriving to introduce their film Until The Light Takes Us. A documentary looking at Norwegian black metal and, in particular, the rise and fall of Varg Vikerness, it enjoyed a sold out screening with a large number of metallers in attendance. It's one of the darkest films at the festival but it makes for compelling viewing.
Upstairs in the GFT's cinema one, that dark atmosphere was mirrored by the selection of creepy films lined up for Frightfest. Unfortunately director Adam Green couldn't make it to the première of his ski-lift chiller Frozen because he was stranded in Toronto airport, where his plane had skidded off the runway and hit a snow bank. Fortunately he's unharmed and his friend Tim Sullivan, director of the new 2001 Maniacs, read out the introduction he'd sent via email. According to our Frightfest correspondent Donald, Frozen was the best film of the night, simple in form but really ugly when it wanted to be. No amount of cannibal or zombie related gore seems able to inure horror audiences to the sight of what look like real life injuries.
There were very nearly some injuries in the auditorium that night, with two different people, on separate occasions, having to be removed by staff after aggressive arguments broke out. This is something previously unheard of at the GFF and we do hope it's not an inevitable consequence of the event getting bigger, but fortunately most attendees seemed determined to have a good time, and the atmosphere was generally friendly and fun.
Next up was that 2001 Maniacs remake, which Donald described as "a bit all over the place" but impressive work for its $400,000 budget, especially given the scale of its ambition. Finally, there was a screening of Stag Night, the glossily produced tale of a drunken night out gone awry when three young men and the two women they've already pissed off find themselves hunted by cannibals in the New York underground. In a Q&A afterwards, director Peter A Dowling defended himself against suggestions that he'd ripped off the classic Death Line, saying he'd met its director Gary Sherman and that they'd agreed their stories really have little in common. You'll need to mind more than just the doors to survive Dowling's thrill ride.
Whilst all this was going on, I spent the evening in the CCA watching what has to be the oddest film of the festival, Double Take. Adapted (rather freely) from a short story by Jorge Luis Borges, it's a thriller in which Alfred Hitchcock, filming The Birds, encounters his doppelgänger. "When you meet your double, you have to kill him, or he has to kill you," the master filmmaker says, "I forget which, but the point is, two of you is one too many." This against a backdrop of the cold war conflict that came to a head that same year, 1962, with the Bay of Pigs confrontation; the film is a patchwork of invented and recovered film clips intercut with coffee adverts which at first seem to mean nothing but gradually gain a curious power over the story. It's not to all tastes, but you're unlikely to see anything quite like it - perhaps ever.
