Clapham international film festival May.

Clapham International May edition reviews

It’s nice to have a local screening. It makes it more comfortable. You’re not worried about transport, and there is a certain ‘clubhouse’ vibe to the Ciff; the selection this time shows a range of what is going on in shorts and series, and my favourite ones are 

1. ‘THE DANDIES OF ALBERTOPOLIS ‘: Omar Kent

I’m a member of the British Museum; my father is an 84-year-old Bengali. It’s a running gag that when we visit together, I’m trying to leave him there as a relic, and the security guard points out they don’t do that sort of thing anymore. Also, I’m 48, and watching this comedy heist is as much reminding me of being in the car with two mates in our 20s, driving around Essex trying to figure out the most diminutive racist pub while talking bobbins. It’s an intelligent interplay between the three as the comedic dynamic shifts in tandem with the satire of the ideals of repatriation, culture, or self-gain on eBay. It’s an intelligent short of a daft trio I would follow on their other adventures. Seek it out. 

2. I’m a good person

That idea of being a good person is ultimately about validation, right? It’s being kind as a weapon, toxic joy. It’s all around the bourgeoise scenes. Helen thrives on it, liberating people from unemployment and running to the virtue signal at every opportunity. But then there’s Mark. 

I won’t lie; I have Mark aspirations; I want poise; I sit in cafes reading books with that orange and white spine that says, “Hey world, I’m invested IN YOU” I get them from the Clapham North Station book swap, some bastard had taken the Malcolm Gladwell, and I was fuming. This is why Marks is a cunt. Seriously, while we are brought to fancy restaurants, we buy gifts and are charmed. It’s all about that fuckers needs. And it’s done and explored with such bite. The little absurdities we laugh at from the start with sharp editing and great dialogue soon become brutal and straightforward. I had a Mark; he wasn’t Irish but vegan. He tried to drag me across a road. I confronted him, and he ghosted. We were mates, not partners, lovers or whatever the thing is now. And I just remember the story being about his fucking feelings. It’s hilarious and turns horrific, but it’s too late, and I will say Enjoy. You might not, but that’s fine. I’m going for a walk! 

3. Evergreen (Tom Gillette)

    I’ve been to Brighton a few times; Hastings sits off it; I’ve never been; it exists as some folkloric space of hobgoblin cider and weird views of life in my mind. I hear things, some comedic, others eldritch about it. Colehctster has a similar relationship with Wivenhoe. I’m also 48 and have a dad who went through all the mediums of cameras until, ironically, VHS camcorders. Then it disappeared. Evergreen is an overlay of all these moments. The ups and downs of a cine reel carnival ride and the upheaval within life and death in a relationship and marriage. The soundscape connects it well, not just in the voice but in the music. I was showing how cyclic these moments can be. And as a footnote. We dug all the cine reels onto DVD and showed them to my aunt. She commented as an aside that she has not done that for her kids. This is why they affect us so much. They take a time we can vicariously see those lives experienced and never recorded. Seek it out. In the green