Stuck in the Miral with you

We’re currently in the middle of the BFI London Film Festival, and I thought I’d better make an effort this year and catch a couple of films. This is trickier for someone who holds great stock in reviews, as I’m reluctant to pay to see anything that I know nothing about. And of course the really high-profile movies sell out instantly. 

Still, I managed to nab tickets to the gala screening of Miral, Julian Schnabel’s new film centered around the Israel-Palestine conflict. This being from the director of the astonishing Diving Bell and the Butterfly and starring Freida Pinto, currently “hot”, as I believe they say in Hollywood parlance, after the success of Slumdog, I had quite high hopes. Not to mention that at £17.50 a pop, this gala screening would surely include a swanky drinks reception and the chance to mingle with slebs and that.

Well, there certainly was a drinks reception, but not one to which the hoi polloi were invited. Furthermore, there were two screenings in the same cinema that evening, only one of which had a Q and A with the stars and director afterwards. Have a guess at which one we ended up in. We did get a brief hello from Julian, Frieda and writer Rula Jebreal before the film, apologising for us not being in the other screening. Oh, and some complimentary water and chocolate bars. Thanks for that. 

Clearly no film is worth £17.50, but Miral doesn’t even come close. It's based on journalist Jebreal's life story, who grew up as a Palestinian in Israel. At five years old, her mother dies and she is sent to a Palestinian school. As the conflict intensifies with the years the older children are sent out to teach in refugee camps and Miral (her name in the film) becomes politicised, which brings her into conflict with the school’s headmistress Mama Hind, who believes in non-violent solutions.

This is a typical biopic that flits between phases of the main character’s life and never allows you to really connect with her or anyone else. It's also trying to tell a potted history of the conflict and although it commendably doesn't come down on either side of the fence it’s all rather mundane. A shame, because Schnabel is capable of lovely visual tricks - a close-up of a rattling bedpost that pans back to reveal a rape, a quick-fire montage of an audience’s faces a split-second before their cinema blows up. But for the most part the direction is rather conventional. “Worthy” and “dull” are the adjectives that spring most to mind, sad to say. It doesn’t help that Hind in her old-age make-up resembles Blanche out of Corrie (RIP).

I did also catch Strange Powers, a documentary about enigmatic (or, if you’re feeling uncharitable, grumpy bastard) singer-composer Stephin Merritt and his main band the Magnetic Fields. There’s not much point in recommending this film, good though it is, because anyone who isn’t already a fan won’t have a clue what’s going on and is never likely to see it anyway. 

Ironically there was a Q and A this time - most artists of course will jump at the chance to have a forum where they can ramble on about their work to a captive audience, but Merritt is emphatically not most artists. Still, it did demonstrate the principle that the more someone gives yes/no answers, the more people can get a question in without there being any danger of over-running.