Berlin Film Festival - Festival Central

With Blackberries down, a blackout at the Pusan fest party, unexciting sales, and things burning down across the globe (London and Seoul, to name just two) this international fest took on a doomsday feel last night at the Cinema for Peace Awards Gala at Berlin's Konzerthaus (pictured). 

The gala celebrated "the power of the moving image and its ability to unite cultures." So when Jason Reitman and Diablo Cody accepted their award for their humanitarian effort "Juno," journos looked over their shoulders for more signs of the apocalypse. 

And just when they thought things might be easing up, Nick Holdsworth delivered this report:

A Czech party where the beer runs out? Impossible in Prague.... but not in Berlin where guests at the "Citizen Havel" party at the Czech Embassy drank the bar dry in less than an hour and half.

That would be fine if the party was heaving with bouncing Czechs and their guests swilling industrial quantities of the one hoppy tipple on offer, Krusovice the 'royal beer'.

But there were only a few dozen mostly sober and suited types in the dreary old Communist-era concrete and glass monstrosity on Potsdamerstrasse and they were sipping wine.

You had to be an early arrival and lucky to have more than a couple of small beers before the draught beer spigot started spitting froth and the barman hung the towel up.

The party thinned out rapidly after that.

Oh, the humanity!

Budd Schulberg never suspected that his famous line from "On the Waterfront" would become so imminently quotable. 

The Oscar-winning screenwriter and novelist is in Berlin promoting his newest boxing book, "Ringside," while his son Benn is pre-selling a film on the Schulberg's life at the EFM. "From Hollywood: The Life Story of Budd Schulberg" is a warts-and-all docu that includes Brando's famous "Waterfront" monologue.

"I brought in a young boxer to coach Brando," remembers Schulberg, who proudly wears a Boxing Hall of Fame ring.  "In his last fight the other guy had died the next day so the boxer stopped fighting after that.  I asked him if that hadn't happened how far he could have gone.  The boxer said 'I don't think I could have won the title.  But I could've been a contender.'  He just threw that line out there and it stuck in my mind."

At 93, Schulberg has seen it all, and from many sides.  He grew up as the son of Paramount head B.P. Schulberg. After World War II he was in charge of photographic evidence during the Nuremburg trials. 

He also "named names" in his testimony to the House Un-American Activities Committee, a period the docu doesn't shy away from.

"It doesn't bother me," said Schulberg when asked if reliving that time is difficult. "I think writers are used to dwelling in the past and using their lifetime experience in their work."

The docu also includes interviews with Ben Stiller, who has optioned the rights to Schulberg's classic book, "What Makes Sammy Run."  Schulberg turned his youthful observations growing up in Tinseltown into what is still an incendiary commentary on Hollywood.  After the book came out he was banished from town, though he says he never felt comfortable there.

"I knew my future was not in Hollywood, and the way I broke away was to write fiction," said Schulberg.

"He grew up in the belly of the beast," says scribe Jerry Stahl, who's adapting "Sammy" for Stiller.  "Then he took a knife to it."

Schulberg, though, has little faith that a movie will be made considering the number of bridges burned. "I have a feeling there is still resistance to it.  Someone told me Steven Spielberg is not so crazy about it."

Irena is with a Russian delegation to the festival and in her right hand she is holding an "access all areas" pass.

Her chest is decorated with every kind of accreditation available at the festival – photographer, press, buyer, etc.

"Obviously, I don't need any of them. And I made a real nuisance of myself getting them all," she says cheerily. "Now whenever I go through security I get some funny looks."

Irena says that from now on she may choose to wear just one badge at a time, as long as it is color-coordinated with her dress that day. Taking a look at that shirt and her glasses and you know she means business.

Irena admits to being "a little eccentric."

(Patrick Frater)

The Weinstein Co. party, held in a strange concrete bunker, boasted a bumper car ride that lit the space.  The cars were turned off and lined up against the wall as their pad became the dance stage. As party-goers got   sauced, they boarded the little cars and pushed them around, ramming and dodging dancers left and right.


The self-proclaimed "beyond label and beyond gender," Patti Smith catches some downtime with friends at the Hyatt hotel. (photo by Elsa Bertet)


"In Love We Trust's" thesp Zhang Jiayi and helmer Wang Xiaoshuai chatting at the after-screener.  (photo by Elsa Bertet)

by Vicci Ho
It is hard for me to describe the excitement I felt when I received an invitation to be a member of the 22nd Teddy Jury at a festival as big as the Berlinale. It is even harder for me to sum up just how nervous I was as the Berlinale edged closer. Not only is this the first time I am doing jury duty at a festival, it is also my first time at the Berlinale...not to mention, the first time in the German capital.

I arrived a day before the festival kicked off so I can have some time to navigate through the area that will be my second home for the next week: Potsdamer Platz. Within ten minutes of walking around in circles trying to find the office, even with a map in my hand, I began to wonder whether my brain was lost in transit. It took me about an afternoon to feel calmer, and I had an early night to ensure I will be fit for the grueling week to come.

The first screening I attended at 10am quickly brought me up to speed with a few 'quirks' of the viewing culture at the Berlinale. The audience members do not usually line-up outside the cinema, but they encircle the entrance. We had to push through the crowds to get to our assigned seats, but by the time we made it inside the 'jury seats' were hijacked. A day later I would find myself sitting on the stairs for a screening after failing to secure a seat by getting to the cinema in the nick of time.

As the Teddy Award ceremony is pushed forward one day to Thursday night, we are left with six days to watch all our films. Day 2 screening began at 9.30am and ended at 9.30pm, where we saw six shorts, two features and three documentaries throughout the day. When there is a break of over an hour, I would need to try and slot in the EFM market screenings to scout other films. Even though it has only been a few days, I am beginning to feel that I have spent my life living in the Cinemaxx and the Cinestar.

Thankfully, compulsory attendance at parties help to snap me out of it. Last night we attended the Teddy Jury reception, which took us out of the Potsdamer Platz, made sure we had a proper dinner (or something as close as it can be during festival time) and much needed alcohol with friends. I also got a taste of the Berlinale party scene described by friends who are veterans at the fest: small, hot, stuffy, overcrowded and smokey spaces where people hang around until the wee hours of the night.

I am still doing my best to pace myself: there are still many days and nights of screenings, parties, receptions and hangovers to come in the next week. I am proud to say that while I am not getting more than four hours of sleep every night, I have yet to be hungover.