Latest news with #BFIFlare
Yahoo
10-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
UK's Reputation As Production Hub Under Threat Due To Lack Of Government Funding In BFI, Report Says
An increased workload coupled with a real-term decrease in government funding has reduced the British Film Institute's efficiency, threatening the UK's reputation as a filming destination, according to a new report. The assessment was shared this morning in a lengthy report by the influential UK Culture, Media & Sport Committee (CMSC). Zeroing in on the BFI's structure and responsibilities, the report said the organization was tasked with taking on an expanded brief in 2011 following the closure of the UK Film Council. More from Deadline Lamin Leroy Gibba On His Breakout Series 'Black Fruit' & The Fight To Maintain Progressive Storytelling In Germany: "We Have To Be Loud" - BFI Flare Tom Cruise To Receive BFI Fellowship BFI Flare Programmer Grace Barber-Plentie On Landing 'The Wedding Banquet' & How Industry Shifts Are Creating Space For Queer Film Culture 'Since then, the BFI's remit has continued to expand, now including video games and Extended Reality as well as film and HETV,' the report reads. The report adds that the BFI's expanded responsibilities have not been supplemented by increased grant-in-aid or National Lottery funding. For the organization to be able to continue to 'offer financial support to those other parts of the screen industry,' the report concluded, its budget must be increased. The full conclusion reads: 'Too often, the BFI's responsibilities have been expanded by the Government without a commensurate, long-term increase in the grant-in-aid support available to it. That has put the UK's reputation with inward investors at risk and could undermine the growth of the vital sectors under its remit.' The report identifies key sections of the BFI, like the organization's Certification Unit, which are operating at a greatly reduced level of efficiency due to increased demand and a lack of funding. 'Since 2011, the number of tax incentives administered by the BFI Certification Unit has increased from one (film) to six (film, independent film, HETV, video games, animation, children's TV), with applications also increasing five-fold,' the report reads. 'However, that increased demand had not been reflected in an increase in grant-in-aid, resulting in a backlog of applications and an increase in turnaround times from 4–6 weeks to 18–20 weeks.' The report states that certification delays are beginning to hit the UK's reputation as a production destination, citing evidence by Northern Ireland Screen, which said the delays were 'beginning to undermine [the UK's] reputation for stability and security.' 'There is a significant risk that studios will seek faster processes when considering where to make future productions, especially as other countries are making large investments in production infrastructure to attract inward investment,' the report reads. In a statement to Deadline, Ben Roberts, BFI Chief Executive, welcomed the report as the first official look into the UK audiovisual sector in over 20 years. 'Many of the recommendations align directly with work that the BFI is delivering across a number of fronts including supporting access to finance for production, distribution and exhibition – including dedicated support for independent cinemas and UK distributors; international business development; growing the workforce and Good Work guidance; a soon to be published report on where the sector is working with generative AI,' Roberts said. 'We are happy to see the report note the success of the UK Global Screen Fund and the importance of our screen heritage and the role of the BFI National Archive. We await the response from Government and are ready to offer support where we are able to on ensuing priorities.' Elsewhere in the report, the Committee officially recommended a 5% streamer levy to the government that it said should be enshrined into law if the industry fails to introduce it within a year. Curiously, despite the observations laid out above, the report recommends that the levy revenue be funnelled into a new cultural fund administered by none other than the BFI to support domestic production. The committee also called on the BFI to 'urgently conduct analysis' on changes to the high-end TV tax credit and, separately, to help develop an 'AI observatory and tech demonstrator hub.' In a separate statement, the Department for Digital, Culture, Media, and Sport, which administers a large portion the BFI's budget, said: 'We acknowledge the challenges facing our brilliant film and TV industry and are working with it through our Industrial Strategy to consider what more needs to be done to unlock growth and develop the skills pipeline. We thank the Committee for its report, which we will respond to in due course.' Best of Deadline Which Colleen Hoover Books Are Becoming Movies? 'Verity,' 'Reminders Of Him' & 'Regretting You' Will Join 'It Ends With Us' 'The Last Of Us' Season 2: Everything We Know So Far Book-To-Movie Adaptations Coming Out In 2025
Yahoo
28-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
'The Wedding Banquet is not the gay rom-com you think it is'
In an age of endless remakes, it's telling that most Hollywood rehashes are straight. Aside from The Lion King, a veritable Queen of the Jungle, re-do's of gay classics are few and far between. Maybe that's because most of these gay classics can't be topped, so to speak. So with that in mind, I approached news of Andrew Ahn's The Wedding Banquet remake — this year's BFI Flare opener — with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Ang Lee's 1993 original was a bonafide feast of a film, a groundbreaking, Oscar nominated classic that centred Asian queerness and bisexuality at a time when gay marriage wasn't even a thing. Kind of like now too, if conservatives soon get their way. But times have changed, mostly for the better, which means a straight-forward remake of The Wedding Banquet wouldn't quite make sense. That's something Ahn is clearly aware of in his new version, which he just so happened to co-write with the original co-scripter, James Schamus. In the original, a bisexual Taiwanese guy named Gao Wai-Tung marries a Chinese woman Wei-Wei to help her secure a green card and get his parents off his back. What could go wrong? A lot, it turns out, because when said parents suddenly come to town, excited to plan this very straight wedding, Wai-Tung is forced to hide his gay partner, a Jewish guy named Simon. Cue hilarious hijinks and a whole lot of drama. The gays love drama, of course, but to update The Wedding Banquet for 2025 a very different kind of drama was needed to keep things relevant and appeal to modern audiences. Because we have seen a lot since 1993, not least in Ang Lee's own Brokeback Mountain where two cowboys pitched a tent together (plus so much more). And that was twenty years ago. It's clear from the get-go that The Wedding Banquet is immediately more queer this time around, which is exactly what you would expect and hope for. We first meet Angela (Kelly Marie Tran) and her girlfriend Lee (Lily Gladstone) at a LGBTQ+ event in Seattle where Angela's mum, played by Joan Chen, is receiving an Ally Award. Chen is somehow gayer than the actual lesbian couple at the heart of this film because no one mothers harder than she does. Don't trust anyone who might say otherwise. Angela and Lee are trying but struggling to get pregnant using IVF, but thankfully, they have two emotional support gays living in their garage, a couple named Chris (Bowen Yang) and Min (Han Gi-Chan). Things aren't going too well for them either after Min proposes to Chris and he freaks out in response. You might be wondering why he would turn down such a sweet, handsome guy. Did he hit his head? Did he swap bodies with his dad, Freaky Friday-style? No, Chris has attachment issues, like every other gay man who's ever existed. Ok, it doesn't help that Min's student visa is about to expire and that his rich gran (Youn Yuh-jung) wants him to head up the family business in Korea. But Min isn't just in it for a green card. He really loves Chris. But Chris is pissed off when Min decides to propose to Angela instead, offering to pay for Lee's IVF in return for citizenship. Why didn't the otherwise sweet, thoughtful, Min just give them the money they so sorely need anyway beforehand, no strings attached? Rom-coms are not to be questioned. They are to be enjoyed in all their fun, frothy glory with Maltesers and wine in hand. Except, The Wedding Banquet delves into so much more than you might expect from a film in this genre. The issue is Min's grandmother has decided to pay her son and his fiancée a surprise visit, so they have mere hours to clear the house of anything gay and stop her from finding out the truth. It's mayhem, but not literally, because Gaga's new album would be a huge giveaway. DVDs, posters, books, anything that could be read as queer is immediately removed. Kind of like how corporate brands scrub away support for the gays in their advertising one day after Pride Month. The film sets this conflict up to be the driving force from this point on, this need to hide Min and Chris's sexuality from Min's nan (or halmeoni). It's how the original film went, so why not follow in those footsteps again? The problem is that modern audiences have moved past the need to watch proud gay men closet themselves in 2025, and thankfully, so have the writers of this film because Ja-Young clocks her grandson almost immediately. To be fair, the fetus Angela and Lee are trying to bring into this world could have clocked him too, but still, this twist is a smart turn that works especially well for fans of the original film who might have expected something different. Instead of closeting themselves to trick and appease a visiting elder, Chris, Min, Angela and Lee soon end up working alongside Ja-Young to get everything they want and trick her homophobic husband in the process. From that point on, this new version of The Wedding Banquet really comes into its own by opening the story up and giving space to conversations around queerness and acceptance that were much harder to come by in 1993. Min and Ja-Young share what is — in my opinion — the most moving scene in the entire film when Youn Yuh-jung's matriarch finds unexpected common ground with her grandson. "I married someone I didn't love," she says, speaking to the pressures that women of her generation faced to be with who they "should" be with rather than who they actually wanted to be with. "I hope you can love who you want because I couldn't. This is my wedding gift to you." I'm not crying. YOU'RE crying. Seeing Min and his grandmother connect across generations because of, and not despite his queerness, is nothing short of revolutionary. And this is echoed too in a scene where Angela and her mother, May Chen, talk through their own rollercoaster journey that's been marked by intense phases of rejection as well as acceptance (which is overbearing in its own way too). In short, The Wedding Banquet is not the frothy gay rom-com you might have expected from a Hollywood remake of this scale, and that's true whether you've come to it from watching the trailers or are just a fan of the original. Daring to tackle a classic and pulling it off is one thing, but doing so with what feels like such ease is another matter entirely. Ahn's take on The Wedding Banquet is a feast to be treasured, and to say more would spoil the biggest event of the season for anyone who was best friends with their English teacher in school. The Wedding Banquet will be released in UK cinemas on Friday, 9 May.
The Guardian
26-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Director Marco Berger: ‘My films make some masculine viewers question if they could be gay'
Marco Berger's films often begin, in one way or another, with a knock on the door. A young gay man steps into a summer house, or sometimes a luxury villa, typically inhabited by a group of attractive young men on holiday. As homoerotic tension simmers, the hyper-masculine environment is charged with banter, dares, and provocative games. The Argentinian director's films test the fragile boundaries of homosocial spaces, blurring the lines between gay and straight as characters navigate complex emotions. His settings become pressure cookers – or at times, ticking time bombs – of unspoken dynamics, male bonding, and the perils of repressed desire. It's these elements – heightened by homoerotic scenes and prolonged shots of the male body – that have made Berger one of the most prolific and successful film-makers in Latin America and widely pirated globally. 'I'm obsessed with telling the story of two men in a summer house because summer creates the perfect conditions for exploring male desire,' Berger says. 'The clothes come off, and the skin is exposed. It's the perfect setting.' 'Most straight people love my films and react positively. But there's a stigma around gay films. If you watch a movie about a killer or a rapist, no one assumes you are one. But if you watch a gay film, people might ask, 'Why do you like Berger's films? Are you gay?' These prejudices keep many from watching my work.' 'My films blur boundaries, making some masculine viewers question if they could be gay. That thought alone unsettles many.' Berger's latest film, The Astronaut Lovers, screens at the 2025 edition of BFI Flare, London's LGBTQIA+ film festival, and marks his 12th feature in 15 years. The film opens not with a door-knock, but with openly-gay Pedro (played by Javier Orán) gazing through the windows of a family summer house before a cousin opens the door for him. Inside, Pedro immediately connects with his cousin's friend, Maxi (played by Lautaro Bettoni); the two, who have known each other since childhood, share an instant rapport,and although Maxi appears to be straight), he seems eager to push boundaries with Pedro. What begins as playful banter soon evolves into a fauxmance when Maxi lies to his ex-girlfriend, claiming he's now gay and dating Pedro. As the comedy-drama unfolds, we realise that while the lie may have been a ploy to win back his ex, the bond between Pedro and Maxi becomes undeniably real. Berger says that his interest lies in the complexities of the in-between spaces between homosexuality and heterosexuality that frequently appear in his films; society, he says, imposes rigid categories of sexual identity, yet human attraction is inherently fluid. It is particularly evident in his 2009 feature debut Plan B , which follows a young man who hatches an unconventional scheme to win back his ex-girlfriend by seducing her new boyfriend, a theme that echoes in Berger's latest film. 'Our society puts limits,' he says. 'Like you have to be straight or you have to be gay. But in reality, you never know. Why do we have to choose a label?' Comedy plays a crucial role in his storytelling. He reflects on how queer cinema often lacks traditional romantic comedies, which inspired him to make The Astronaut Lovers. 'I wanted to make a romantic comedy with two men because it barely exists. It's a political statement as much as a film,' he says. 'Comedy has a way of easing tension and allowing us to say things we might not dare to say otherwise.' Homoerotic tension woven into everyday situations recurs in Berger's films. He attributes this to his personal experiences growing up gay in a heteronormative society, and is fascinated with moments when love first emerges – especially during adolescence. 'I feel like the world stole my youth, and I'm angry about it. I never had a boyfriend in high school. My friends – the girls had boyfriends, and the boys had girlfriends. Everything that happened for them never happened to me,' he says. Berger also addresses the challenges of being gay in Argentina where, despite some social progression, public displays of affection between same-sex couples can still attract unwanted attention. 'Even in Buenos Aires, walking hand in hand with a man is still an act of rebellion.' His 2022 film Horseplay examined the theme, exploring toxic masculinity and homophobia, particularly among privileged young men. Inspired by a real-life murder case in Argentina, Berger says: 'At first, you think you like these guys. They're rich, handsome, confident. And then you realise – this is the toxic part of society.' The film, filled with playful pranks and homoerotic teasing, blurs the line between camaraderie and latent aggression, eventually leading to a shocking act of violence. Horseplay contrasts with Taekwondo (a film he made with Martín Farina in 2016) which also depicts male bonding, but in a much more tender and accepting environment; it is a slow-burn drama in which Fernando invites Germán, a closeted new friend from his taekwondo class, to spend time at a summer house with his group of straight male friends. Reflecting on his personal life, Berger shares that he grew up in a middle-class family in Buenos Aires and came out at 18. 'We never went to Miami as many people did.' His father initially struggled to accept his sexuality, even suggesting therapy. However, this experience led the therapist to discover Berger's creative talent, ultimately steering him toward film-making. In his personal life, he admits that he is 'not this clean, perfect boy,' but he says he's not comfortable with 'opening the door and having sex'. 'I'm not on PrEP [pre-exposure prophylaxis]. I don't go to parties and do chemsex. I never have. Because of my childhood, I've always valued pure love.' Despite his success, Berger faces challenges in the film industry. He believes homophobia still affects funding opportunities, as some producers hesitate to finance LGBTQ+ films. 'I've seen straight directors get millions for their second film. I've made 12 films, and together they cost less than one of theirs.' 'The biggest producers don't want to produce my work,' he adds. 'They're afraid of being labelled as producers of gay films. I was never on equal footing with other directors. The Astronaut Lovers was made with $200,000.' 'But I never thought of my career as making queer films; I thought of myself as making films. No one asks Quentin Tarantino why he's making another straight film, and nobody questions Tim Burton about making another straight one.' The Astronaut Lovers screens on 27 and 28 March at the BFI Southbank.
The Guardian
19-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘He threw body piercing parties and lay on a bed of nails': the wild life of body modification guru Fakir Musafar
In the opening moments of A Body to Live in, a documentary by American film-maker Angelo Madsen, we are confronted with two black-and-white photographs. Taken in 1944 by the teenage Roland Loomis, they show him stripped to his underwear, his waist heavily restricted by a leather belt, a rope wrapped several times around his neck. Loomis later renamed himself Fakir Musafar and became one of the founders of the modern primitive movement – a subculture that revolves around body modification practices including branding, suspension, contortion and binding. A Body to Live in, which premieres internationally at London's BFI Flare film festival this week, dissects Musafar's body of work, which explored the tension between masculinity and femininity, pain and pleasure, spirituality and S&M. Madsen met Musafar in 2004 through the latter's wife, the artist Cleo Dubois, whose commentary features heavily in the film. They remained close friends until Musafar's death from cancer in 2018. Dubois gave him 'free rein' to explore Musafar's vast archive, including more than 100 hours of previously unseen video and audio recordings. The film weaves together these materials with Musafar's stunning photographs and the voices of radical performance artists including Annie Sprinkle and Ron Athey. A Body to Live in follows the modern body modification movement from when it emerged as a subculture in the early 1970s, while also exploring the pushback it received and the ethical questions still raised by the phenomenon of self-inflicted pain. Some of the imagery in the film seems designed to make us think about the line that separates pleasure and self-expression from self-harm, such as videos of two-point chest suspension – the practice of dangling someone in the air by metal hooks attached to their nipples. We hear the artist narrating his early experiments in body play – such as during a weekend when he was 17 when his parents were away. Alone, he fasted for two days and restricted his waist with a chain, and clipped his body with hundreds of clothes pegs – an experience he said gave him feelings of belonging and of power. In adulthood, Musafar started throwing self-taught naked 'piercing parties', then starred in 'freakshow' performances inspired by circus acts, such as lying on beds of nails in front of audiences as weights were placed on top of him. In the 1970s, the body modification movement began to gather momentum. Musafar's core philosophy – that piercings and pain could be a way of focusing the mind and connecting with the spiritual world – inspired intense devotion from his audience. And, contrary to how people might interpret BSDM today, his take on it seemed much more inspired by care than submission and domination. We see Musafar's followers gathering together in sunny fields like hippies, where they chant, dance and pierce each other's bodies. Dubois explains that she was brought to BDSM because it was 'all about consent', which helped her to recover from being sexually assaulted. The film includes photographs of Musafar wearing makeup and women's clothes in his mother's bedroom. And many of his body modifications, such as stretching his chest and constricting his waist, feel purposefully connected to an exploration of femininity. 'He was always between genders, but he didn't call it that. He called it being in the cracks,' explains Dubois. Instead, he seemed more interested in finding a solid justification for his practices in spirituality, or through intellectualising the allure of body modification. 'Something that I found in archival interviews is that he was very insecure about how he was being perceived, and he was constantly trying to prove that he wasn't crazy,' Madsen says. 'His biggest fear was being institutionalised, because that's what they fucking did in the 1960s. If you were found cross-dressing or doing weird things with your body, you were going to be sent to a mental hospital.' To some, Musafar was an inspiration, but to many others he was an aberration. The film chronicles near-constant backlash, including political attacks in the 90s on performance artists who received federal funding. There was also anger in the Native American community, whose leaders issued a 'declaration of war' in 1993 against those who misrepresented their 'sacred traditions and practices'. Madsen says that a lot of people still have issues with Musafar's work because of the 'cultural appropriation' factor. 'Not in the sense that he had bad intentions, or was trying to harm anyone,' he explains. 'He's done all of the reading available. He's visited some of these places. He's witnessed these rituals. But he doesn't have the same access to these cultures as people who are part of them.' No matter how extreme some of the imagery – such as metal piercing bars entering almost every conceivable part of the body, often at the hands of self-taught practitioners – by the end of the film, it feels noticeably less confronting. Perhaps that is because, however niche these practices may seem, the audience starts to relate to the desire for community and acceptance, or to the experience of being drawn to something and feeling pressured to justify it. The physicality of the film also nods to the vast range of things 'regular' people do to their bodies – such as running marathons, extreme diets, intermittent fasting, or using alcohol and drugs – as ways of coping with the world. 'This film is about trying to figure out how to have relationships – on what terms, through what means, and what feels good in relation to ourselves, the world and other people,' says Madsen. 'Really, it's a film about love.' A Body to Live in is at BFI Flare festival on 20 and 21 March and Fringe! festival on 23 March, both in London
The Guardian
03-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
An original springtime poem – commissioned for the Woodland Trust
Sestina for a spring in exile Like the rising of the sun, every year brings the same, though somehow it always feels like a new beginning: the earth yawns, shakes the trees, and the woods know it is time. The season turns again and brings along a new wind. Though slightly warmer, this wind, the people shrug, pretend it is the same. They go into the woods again to look for tender signs of beginning – only to watch the blossoms burst before their time, and cross the graves of sapling trees. They have not grown new rings, these trees, and he is no zephyr, this wind. The fleeing feet of springtime cry out that all is not the same, that this is no slow-ripening beginning, an ancient hourglass has turned once again. Yes, gin berries swell in their clusters again, the song thrushes dash snail shells against the trees, but spring has overshot her beginning. Dogged by a fevered wind, her exile echoes, each footstep calling out the same: we are running out of time. If they had noticed the unravelling of time Perhaps they might have searched for frogspawn again, or checked the burgeoning nests, no two clutches the same. Perhaps they would have gone out amongst the trees, stood still, sought the coolness of the wind, and enjoyed the unfolding of the year's beginning. Though they shall not change the beginning – re-bud the flowers, turn back time, halt the passage of the wind – They might learn to listen again, and know they speak the language of the trees for the woods' exhale, their breath – it is the same. Oh, it has always been the same – as empires rise and fall, so do the trees. We create, then destroy. Then create again. *********** Amani Saeed is an interdisciplinary creative who treads the line between roots and routes. A former Barbican Young Poet, she has performed for audiences at the Royal Albert Hall, in London, Saeed's poetry collection Split is published with Burning Eye Books. Beyond her poetry, Saeed was a co-writer on the short film Queer Parivaar, which premiered at the BFI Flare 2022 and won Best British Short at the Iris Prize awards 2022, and is founder of The Hen-nah Party, an interdisciplinary open mic night by and for queer South Asians. Discover more about spotting spring's vital signs and help the Woodland trust check on the health of planet by logging your sightings at
