FILMS WORTH WATCHING by Robert Alstead

Morgan Spurlock in Super Size Me

Super Size Me

Morgan Spurlock’s documentary Super Size Me, opening May 7, has been garnering huge amounts of interest for a small film ever since it debuted at the Sundance Film Festival in January. For the Michael Moore-ish (it even sounds like Moore’s book Downsize This) investigation into the US obsession with fast-food Spurlock ate McDonald’s, accepting super sizes if offered, for a whole month to see what it would do to him. He could only eat or drink what was available over the counter, water included, and he had to eat every item on the menu at least once.

“Super Size Me: a film of epic portions” and “Morgan Spurlock took the fast track to becoming an obese American.” are two of the taglines you find on the fast-food themed website www.supersizeme.com

The filmmaker, who ignored medical advice against doing the month-long stunt, put on 25 pounds, although he has since lost most of it, his cholesterol skyrocketed, his libido wilted and he ended up with a liver so punished that it resembled an alcoholic’s.

McDonald’s comes off badly. At one point, Spurlock is seen heaving his McMeal out of the car window, but the film is interested in the wider legal, financial and physical costs of the US hunger for fast food in general, not just McDonald’s. Along the way Spurlock looks at the failures of school lunch programs, declining health and physical education classes, food addictions and the extreme measures people take to lose weight and regain their health.

Although Spurlock tried to get an interview with McDonald’s, the company declined to comment. Still, there is no doubt that this film has kicked the debate about the health risks of fast food into the mainstream. In the light of Super Size Me, McDonald’s recent decision to scrap super-size portions of fries and soft drinks by the end of the year makes perfect sense.

Valentin

The Valentin of this sweet coming-of-age comedy, out May 14, is a precocious eight-year-old, who lives in 1960s Buenos Aires with his curmudgeonly grandmother. The cute, bespectacled Valentin (Rodrigo Noya) dreams of two things: becoming an astronaut and having a mother. Unhappy with his broken family life, he devises a plan to bring his divorced and philandering father, played by director Alejandro Agresti, together with a beautiful young woman Leticia (Julieta Cardinali). However, he discovers that even the best-made plans can go awry, in this light and feel-good story.

The Saddest Music in the World

Most filmmakers today try to get the best-looking picture that their money can buy. Like a mad scientist, Winnipeg director Guy Madden goes off in the other direction degrading and ageing footage so that it looks like it has been languishing for decades in some dark vault. This demented melodrama revolves around a contest to see who can create the saddest music in the world, with Isabella Rossellini playing a depression era beer baron with glass legs full of beer and Kids in the Hall’s Mark McKinney the oily impresario who is trying to seduce her. The film’s flickery, grainy footage, think early black-and-white films, does not make for the easiest of viewing experiences, but it is the perfect palliative for too much Hollywood fare. The Saddest Music in the World is showing now in Vancouver.

The 24 Hour Film Contest

Last month, I took part in the 24 Hour Film Contest for an article for iofilm. The largest event to date with a total of 35 teams and 235 local filmmakers were given a day to write, shoot, edit and deliver on videotape a film under five minutes. Each film had to incorporate various elements including, among other things, a bale of hay and a soundtrack by a local band. Although many of the 27 films that made it across the finish line in time were understandably a little rough around the edges, it was impressive how much creativity filmmakers squeezed into the tight deadline. You can soon view the films online at the 24 Hour Film

Contest site http://the24hourfilmcontest.com

Robert Alstead runs ezine www.iofilm.ca