Un lloc un caure mort: 4,50 €
Europe in 8 bits: 4,50 €
The Jump! WTF Experience: 4,50 €
Rest of sessions: 6,50 €
American Interior, directed by Rhys himself and Dylan Goch, isn't just a travel documentary, it's also a unique vision of the creation process for an album (that shares its name with the documentary), and which narrates this journey in another way. And what's more, you'll laugh and it's gorgeous... Like we said, second and last chance to see it at the cinema (although, like 70% of the Festival program, you can also see it via In-Edit TV).
Today is Frank Scheffer day at Beefeater In-Edit. The director will be with us until Sunday, presenting the six films of the tribute that we're paying him this year. But today will be the day the Dutch maestro gives his Master Class (at Blanquerna, C/ Valldonzella, 23, at 12:30h), and tonight, after presenting his film Frank Zappa - Phase II - The Big Note (21:30h, Multicines Sala 5), he'll be at the In-Edit Radio Q&A Show in the Festival "big hall".
Apocalypse according to Jaz Coleman
In his magnificent book on the post-punk period Rip It Up and Start Again, Simon Reynolds dares to sum up Killing Joke's resounding personality in a single line: "a post-punk version of heavy metal, a death-disco Black Sabbath". And one can't help but imagine Jaz Coleman, vociferous alma mater of the legendary English group, spitting fire and spouting Maori curses from his cabin on Great Barrier Island (New Zealand) upon hearing such an efficient and mundane definition of his greatest life project. For this giant –scholar and megalomaniac with a shamanic soul– as for his partners, Geordie Walker, "Big" Paul Ferguson, Youth and Paul Raven, Killing Joke's music is and forever will be sacred. Larger than life. A basic urge, impregnated with mysticism that conjures ancestral spirits while setting the (martial) pace of a collapsing world on the brink of Armageddon. And if anyone thinks we're exaggerating, they need only hear what they have to say in the documentary The Death and Resurrection Show.
Jingle Bell Rocks!
"Why does Christmas have to be a celebration of the shittiest music? I don't get it. I ask a song to move me, to inspire me, to transmit something, be it a social or political commentary, or even a personal story. That it has substance, depth and that it's sincere. That's what I search for in music, always, all year round. So why does it have to be different during Christmas? Why during the festive season, do people – at least in America – chuck their personal criteria out the window and listen to the same songs each year, many of which are horrible, ad nauseam, is if it were inevitable. I hate it." (Mitchell Kezin, director of Jingle Bell Rocks!, in declarations in In-Edit Beat).
At this year's Beefeater In-Edit there's great comedy. And I don't say that because Supermensch, the story of Alice Cooper's manager, directed by comedian Mike Myers, who gets behind the camera for the first time with this documentary, although the life and spoils of Shep Gordon a star that outshines his artists - contains more anecdotes than Spinal Tap.
I was thinking of another comedy, one that could be constructed by uniting fragments of many of the films on the billboard for this edition. You will have seen some of them in the trailers screened in some sessions. Freddie Mercury and that line he says on TV that "the bigger the better. In everything" And then laughs. And then there's the chicken that Alice Cooper unintentionally kills at a concert in Toronto, in front (he says) "of 70 thousand hippies." What's funny is that he doesn't murder a chicken, but does it without wishing to, and tells it that way, of course. You expect first-class anecdotes from Alice Cooper because he's the great clown of rock and roll. If you don't laugh in one of his films, you can ask for your money back. Divine, drag among all drags, is a bombshell of provocation that defies the entire world with humor as his weapon and shield. And of course, in I am Divine you'll laugh your socks off.
There are smiles that hide where you'd least expect them. Breadcrumb Trail, the documentary that unravels the dense cloud of mysticism, which until now engulfed the mysterious Slint, reveals, among many other things, a handful of guys from Kentucky with a weakness for absurd jokes and scatology. If you know The Mekons, one of the greatest groups born at the dawn of punk and that who still bite, you'll know that they lash out against everything, above all against themselves, with hilarious acidity. If you don't know them, prepare yourselves for the best collection of jokes about failure that you've ever seen grace a music documentary.
Càndid, protagonist of Un lloc on caure mort, doesn't just say harsh things. He lives them out. And the directors of this film have a knack for catching them in flights and placing them in just the right place in the edit. When it comes to humor, editing, like timing for comedians, is key. What was that car that Joe Strummer searching from pillar to post in the Madrid streets, and that everyone remembers, but whose color escapes us all. Yeah man? That great big car... Black? Dark green? Brown? Light or dark roof? The interviews in I need a Dodge don't add up, but we all agree that the way the answers are edited creates a more comic effect. An applause for the director, here. And another for Taking the Dog for a Walk, the portrait of the austere London improvised music scene, which opens the documentary with a bingo session at a neighborhood civic center, punctuated by a drum solo when, among other things, a drill-hole and a gentleman appear that enters the scene holding up his trousers with one hand and playing the trombone with the other just as the number 69 is called. The guys that calls the numbers can't stifle a laugh, and us, watching it, can't either. More British humor, in this case Welsh, in American Interior, in which Gruff Rhys crosses the United States with a puppet, on the trail of a visionary, John Evans, who, in 1792, made the same journey searching for a Native American tribe that he was convinced, spoke Welsh. It's hard to find a scene that isn't funny.
In Angels & Dust, x-ray of a country, Panama, eaten away by drugs, there's a character that each morning, completely unhurried, ruminates over the local press headlines with greater humor than the best monologist. You'd roar if it wasn't all news about murders, which makes it utterly macabre. In Pete & Toshi Get a Camera, the humor is involuntary, and more aligned with that of Jacques Tati. The unexpected twists that Pete Seeger and family encounter exchanging cultures on their world tour include an encounter at the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall in Moscow where the champion of the American protest song sings a work ditty while cutting log on stage. Beside him, an interpreter translates the lyrics to Russian for an unmoved audience. What's more, we're in A 1957, more or less when Khrushchev challenged the USA to a "shooting contest" to see who had the best missiles.
So as not to spoil all the surprises, we round up with one that is hardly a party-pooper. In the documentary Frank Zappa - Phase II -The Big Note there are plenty of moments to crack up laughing, as you'd expect when dealing with one of the shrewdest and most playful musicians in the history of rock. In fact, Zappa has a record that bears the title Does humor belong in music?. If we could, we'd tell him to come this year Beefeater In-Edit to see for himself. We can't. But we can say it to you. Come on over. You'll have a blast.