So yesterday was the last day of the São Paulo International Film Festival, one of Brazil's most prestigious film festivals. With about 400 films packed into two weeks, there's a film that suits everyone's taste. Last year, I was lucky enough to catch the full two weeks as I had just arrived and had very little on my plate, meaning that I was able to watch many films during the festival. I think I watched something like 7 films, so about 1 every other day. This year, I didn't get to watch a single film! I've been working so much lately that I simply have not had even a few spare hours to while away amongst São Paulo's cinephiles.
I'd been working for the film festival itself since September, working as their English translator for their website and their festival catalogue. I would have thought that working in the festival would've gotten me some perks such as free tickets or some free merchandise, even a badge would've been something. But no, there was none of that. The one thing I did get was two tickets to the opening ceremony, which sounds much glitzier than it proved to be. For starters, there were no drinks or canapés, not even orange juice or water. You had to pay for everything. What kind of festival ceremony doesn't serve free drinks? Sod the film, I came to get drunk amongst the stars, or at least hidrate myself. We were then forced to mill around for about an hour for no apparent reason before the ceremony actually began, which took another hour in itself: rather than a simple introduction and some thank yous to the sponsors, a representative from each sponsor came up and gave a "short" speech. The groans in the audience became more audible with every sponsor that appeared onstage; when they called the sports minister on to talk about something or other, it sounded like there was a chorus of school-kids moaning. Eventually, two hours after the film should've started, the festival directors left the stage and the projectors were turned on. Up pops Ken Loach's ode to that French rapscallion Cantona, 'Looking for Eric'. It was a great choice to start off the festival, a mix of action, comedy, and tragedy, much like a football match. I only was a little irritated since I'd seen the film a few weeks before on the plane, on a screen the size of my palm, thus the surprise factor was little ruined. I guess I have to correct myself then, rather not seeing a single film, I didn't see a single film I hadn't seen before. But enough of that, onto the Two Erics.
Eric Bishop (Steve Everts) is a postman in Manchester whose life is in crisis. He can't control his two sons, he can't face his first wife, the mother of his daughter, and he can't deliver his mail. Lost in the world and with no one to turn to, who looks to his idol for guidance, Eric Cantona, "the best football player that ever lived". One night, as he looks at a life-size poster of Cantona, he is visited by the man himself to receive advice on how to get his life back on track.
Despite being produced by the French footballer himself, 'Looking for Eric' is not simply a film about football. In fact, it's far from a film about Cantona. The eponymous Eric is the English Eric, not the French one. It is his story we follow, the story of a working man trying straighten things out in his life. The focus is always on Eric's development throughout the film, and though the subplots may sometimes seem in parallel to his story, their purpose is simply to be another challenge for Eric; we are not interested in whether or not the issues get resolved as much as we are in interested in how Eric will deal with them, which is where football comes in. Whilst football is often mentioned throughout the film, from Eric's recounting of Cantona's best goals (including footage of them) to the arguments over team loyalties, it's never the centrepiece of the film. It only serves as a metaphor for the things lacking in his life: solidarity, support, confidence, unity. And it is football that eventually helps him resolve his issues, represented by his friends and Cantona.
Loach finds a balance between the different aspects of the story and styles of the film, such as the British social realism of working-class people versus the more fantastic elements of the film, or the lighter tone of scenes involving Eric's friends compared to the darker, gritter mood given to Ryan's subplot. The film never seems to jump around from these quite contrasting elements, with Paul Laverty's script keeping them flowing smoothly scene by scene. Unlike past films, Loach's comic touch perhaps adds a more approachable quality to the film, making it so satisfying to watch, especially its exuberant ending.
The actors all deliver great performances, each one suiting his or her role in the story: Gerard Kearns as Eric's rebellious teenage son who reveals himself to be a child in need of a parent; Stephanie Bishop's Lily balances the conflict in the film with her soothing nature, sharing some touching moments with Steve Everts; John Henshaw and Justin Moorhouse provide some brilliant comic relief as Meatballs and Spleen respectively (the scene where the postmen are gathered at Eric's house trying out a self-help exercise is hysterical). Even with all this support, Everts still has a lot to live up to as the film's protagonist, and yet he shines as Eric, the explosive, insecure, loving parent/postman. And of course, last but not least, Eric Cantona, who plays none other than lui-même.
Perhaps the most surprising thing about the film is that depsite not being focused on football, it conveys a strong sense of the passion of a football fan. The goals one never forgets, the feeling of camradarie with other fans, the notion that a football match is the only place where one can let loose and forget all inhibitions, no matter who you are or what you do, and the security that notion offers. These ideas only appear in the film explicitly once, but one can feel they are floating around throughout the film. It is these ideas that Eric years to retrieve, it's what he needs to retrieve to find the Eric he is looking for. As a famous French philosopher once said:
"When the seagulls follow the trawler, it is because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea".
