Tuesday, June 14, 2011
On Saturday at the Sydney Film Festival, I saw fab indie filmmaker Miranda July's latest, The Future, a kooky tale about inertia, mid-thirties angst and what happens when a sudden, uncharacteristic choice takes you away from everything you know.
The smart dialogue is what makes this film a joy - “We’re 35 now ... by the time the cat dies, we’ll be 40 ... and 40 might as well be 50 ... and after that, spare change” - that and July's oddities. I love her dancing. And her outfits. And how she wears peculiar geeky shorts with tiny singlets and has an old-fashioned face, like she's washed up in the wrong time and the wrong place. But best of all I love how this film is narrated by a cat. Even if that cat is sad. We only see his paw, which is injured. He is waiting for his new life to begin, when Sophie and Jason get their shit together and come and claim him. I won't give the end away but...poor kitty.
The Future will hit the regular cinema circuit sometime in the future. I guess.
Posted by Mrs Press at 12:56 AM