A month ago, I mentioned that here and there I snatch a moment to watch a movie. Perhaps there wasn’t here and there in February as I only watched three new flicks. At least, I have more space to tell you about them.

1. Citizen Havel (2008) (Czech Republic)
I believe that some of our readers are not European and they don’t know much about a tiny little country that was once a larger part of Czechoslovakia and nowadays is colloquially and slightly incorrectly being referred to as Czech. What they may know is that capitol city is called Prague and I live there. What they may not know is that the last president of Czechoslovakia and the first of Czech Republic was Václav Havel, a former opponent of the communist régime (the right expression is dissident), intellectual and playwright. He happened to be a statesman, yet he’s never become a politician per se.

This bold statement of mine is confirmed by the movie about himself. Havel let filmmakers shadow him for over thirteen years agreeing to ignore their presence. He didn’t interfere and he asked his colleagues and friends to do the same, explaining that the footage will be used years after he would had left the office. A camera follows him at the talks with politicians, at home with his first and later a second wife, at moments of joy and sorrow. What we get to see is a very personal picture of Havel, at times uncertain and doubtful, Havel reflecting and — above all — a very funny and human one.

I can’t recall a documentary that could pack mainstream theatres, make audience shed a tear and laugh hysterically — and then leave people appreciating both the movie and the real-life protagonist without any propaganda. My respect goes to Mr Havel and both filmmakers, late Pavel Koutecký and Miroslav Janek who completed the film.

2. Once (2006) (Ireland)
A simple, yet unconventional story plus a few bucks for a movie (say €130,000) can still fill up the box office. At least in Europe and indie scenes around the world. Take one guy, a busker, one girl, an immigrant, a week they spend together making music, talking and converging. Make them love each other but not make love. Cut off the happy ending that is too cliché and voilà! That’s how the successful movies are made, with or without a budget.

Sounds painless, doesn’t it? You’d need great actors, though. Perfect screenplay, too. And a great camera work and a professional sound set-up on top of it. Or not?

Anybody’s hoping for a dull but accurate comment? This film proves that independent cinema has nothing to worry about as long as there are people with passion, ideas, the ones who carry out their dreams with determination. Basically, I’m talking about the misfits and all the others. Sometimes that’s even good enough to snatch a shiny little statue from a pretentious bunch of the Kodak theatre. Go figure.

3. Atonement (2007) (UK & France)
Upper class estate, England, mid-thirties. When a thirteen year old Briony sees her older sister Cecilia with a housekeeper’s son Robbie, she misjudges the anxiety and anticipation between the two for something far more terrifying and less exciting. More so, when she reads Robbie’s beautifully crafted letter expressing his unconditional love for Cecilia’s, hmmm, parts. And catches them in flagrante in a library just few hours later. So when their cousin is raped in the dark later that night, Briony is pretty sure about who she saw and who’s the thug.

Such foreplay opens a sharp romantic drama, something that female audience can appreciate. It’s subtle, smart (unless you read the novel you cannot exactly sense the ending), looks vintage and makes them pray both Robbie & Cee could stay alive, get together, and live happily ever after.

I will not spoil it for you. If you haven’t seen the best British film of the year, please do. Get yourself a fine bottle of wine and a great company to help and you won’t be disappointed. Art can heal and redeem. It may not be the universal truth, nevertheless it certainly applies to this movie.

Another twelve months are gone in a blink. I’ve just noticed and I’ve realised that it’s our annual pre-Oscar speculation time. Sad, sad moment, everybody. We’re all a year older again. Some of us have more grey hair (me), others have less hair, if any (Gabriel). And that’s just on the outside! Sigh!

Nevertheless, without further ado, please look carefully into your crystal balls and let us know what you see. More precisely, let us know your guess for winners of our ten most popular categories. If you have something else to add, of course, feel free to honour us with your lavish thoughts.

Here’s my shot (so you can laugh while you read):

Best Picture: No Country for Old Men
Best Direction: Joel Coen and Ethan Coen (No Country for Old Men)
Best Actor: Viggo Mortensen (Eastern Promises)
Best Actress: Marion Cotillard (La Vie en Rose (La môme))
Best Supporting Actor: Javier Bardem (No Country for Old Men)
Best Supporting Actress: Cate Blanchett (I’m Not There)
Best Animated Movie: Ratatouille
Best Foreign Language Movie: Die Fälscher (The Counterfeiters, Austria)
Best Adapted Screenplay: Ronald Harwood (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly)
Best Original Screenplay: Diablo Cody (Juno)

Stop laughing, will you?

Here and there I snatch a moment to watch a movie. I tend to compile a list of films I saw with basic remarks, so the list remembers them instead of me. To a degree, it’s a good way to get away with forgetfulness, though it doesn’t help much when intoxicated, discussing cinema in a dodgy saloon at half past three in the morning. Well, just in case something like that happens and I have access to the net — here’s my January list:

1. Under Suspicion (2000) (USA)
A thriller that is more acting quality check of Morgan Freeman and Gene Hackman rather than anything else. As a thriller, it’s somewhat slow-paced and at times predictable. A decent work, anyway.

2. Peculiarities of the National Fishing (1998) (Russia)
A comedy about a bunch of friends who go fishing the Russian way. It other words, they go on a drinking spree. Reasonably funny, though nothing one would miss. I guess it’s too hard to understand a Russian soul without actually being Russian.

3. La dolce vita (1960) (Italy)
Fellini’s classic about love, sex, religion, aristocracy, media and one man’s quest for peace with himself. Marcello’s struggle and failure to answer the ultimate question. A drama still slightly decadent and no less fascinating than almost 50 years ago.

4. I Am Legend (2007) (USA)
I like post-apocalyptic flicks — just for seeing how it may look like when we blow things up. New York looks alright in this one, worth visiting if you survive. The movie itself is alright, too. Average, yet entertaining.

5. He Was a Quiet Man (2007) (USA)
Ignored, bullied, trapped inside an office cubicle, with Hula Girl broken and holding his only real conversations with goldfish. Cookoo, right? Christian Slater’s character is about to snap — but somebody else does a moment earlier. It opens up a great story. Highly recommended.

6. Anything Else (2003) (USA)
This is not exactly classic, however it is still Woody Allen. He’s kind of funny, he’s neurotic, intellectual and Jewish. Nothing has changed over the years and I enjoy watching his wit over and over again. Even in flops.

And that is it, folks. There may be more next month.

Whenever I get to travel between Prague and Sydney, I stop in London for a little while to meet Gabriel. The original idea behind these visits was to see each other at least once a year and lately we even get to see each other much more than that. Last year, I came to London two or three times, plus Gabriel enjoyed his holiday with me in Australia, so we had about three weeks together. Obviously, one would expect a flood of new songs and ideas and our website crashing under new quality content and legions of anxious visitors.

Well, it is not the case.

The truth is that when we meet, we don’t work too hard. It’s understandable, having these meetings quite apart, we have to discuss what’s new, run through each other’s iTunes and go out! And when we come back, we’re either ready to pass out, or ready to watch some must-see classic. And then pass out. And then eat, and watch more movies, and go out again, and eat, and meet people, etc., etc.

However, it’s not totally pointless to catch up. When I stopped in London few days before last Christmas, we took the obvious path the night I arrived, yet, surprisingly, we finished a song the next day! Sadly, it wasn’t much of a new material, as it was a song we penned eight months earlier in Sydney. Honestly, quietly ignoring Gabriel’s email appeals for a revision, I though the song was ready from day one. Nevertheless, Gabriel insisted that there was line that was repeated and needed a change. Yes, I’m talking about a song called She has a soul, a tune I discussed ages ago (and which nobody heard so far but two of us).

After exercising different techniques to argue his truth, Gabriel finally got me to change the incriminated line. Sigh. Sigh. It took me about twenty seconds — and I have to admit that my admiration for a certain famous band played a role in writing such a line.

I changed the following:

she has a soul
she hardly bares to her men
she has a soul
that’s too hard to understand

to

she has a soul
she hardly bares to her men
the inner light
that’s too hard to understand

And that was it. I’ve never heard Gabriel whinging about this one anymore.

It’s winter. W-I-N-T-E-R. It’s a kind of season people in Sydney often talk about but hardly know or have ever seen, even if they pretend or genuinely believe they do and have. They don’t and haven’t, let me tell you. For most of them, winter is when it’s from 15 to 20°C during the day, with temperatures dropping to about 10°C at night, meaning they have to get a jacket for long cold nights out. And they feel it’s scary.

I have a different winter in mind. A real scary one. A winter during which mercury hardly reaches zero, staying permanently underneath that frightening mark. A winter with snow flying in the air, or even better, covering the ground, with foggy wet days and bright super-cold ones, with people hiding in their beautifully warm dwellings with double-glazed windows and central heating — both inventions virtually unknown to the population of Australia (though I cannot talk for the Tasmanians).

I have thrown myself into a winter like that. Voluntarily. One day baking my bones in Shark Bay, next one numbly walking through shopping alleys at Dubai International, third one pushing my way through hordes of Arsenal fans in London suburbia and finally fourth one being spitted out in sensationally grey and gloomy Prague. And wintery one, too.

I guess I knew the theory. This was to be expected. Maybe not as classy as snowstorm, yet equally effective. The beauty of thermal inversion. The eerie of darkened foggy days leisurely metamorphosing into eerie of even darker foggy nights and than back again. And again. And again.

Nine days and nights. Suddenly, one begins to understand why Michael Hutchence chose Prague for the set of their most melancholic video. Or how Kafka could trip here without a need to use hallucinogens.

The weather has cleared just in time for New Year’s Eve. Seeing starry skies after such treatment felt like winning a lotto. Emotionally, I mean. Starry skies have nothing to do with bank accounts, as far as I’m concerned. Uplifted now, it’s somehow easier to wish everyone a happy and successful new year.

So. So. I wish you, for both of us of tm91, a happy and successful new year. And please, do not forget to have a towel handy at all times.