70th Berlinale, under new management, opens with My Salinger Year and commemorates Hanau victims

"We are hopeful," is the reply when I speak to a colleague just before the start of the Berlin film festival. For curious as to how the choice of Carlo Chatrian as the new artistic director has fallen among German critics. Chatrian, previously director of the leading arthouse festival in Locarno, lies well, I understand. Whether this 70th Berlinale all that new impetus and the hoped-for quality boost will remain to be seen. Bit of a shame, though, that the opening film My Salinger Year is on the good side.

Chatrian's predecessor, Dietrich Kosslick, was at the helm for 16 years. Too long, again according to my colleague. Fresh blood is needed from time to time. What is also new this edition is that from now on the leadership is two-headed. Artistic and business - Carlo Chatrian and Mariette Rissenbeek.

Hanau

Berlin always had a reputation for being a politically and socially engaged festival, a public festival too. Almost everyone thinks it should stay that way. Including Chatrian himself, he made clear on opening night. Film connects people and lets us dream when the going gets tough, he argued. In his energetic opening conference, actor Samuel Finzi made many a connection with what is going on in society. What everyone also thought about, of course, was the attack in Hanau. The audience at the Berlinale Palast commemorated the victims with a minute's silence.

But at that, Chatrian could also be the person to make the Berlinale more artistically exciting and adventurous. Without turning the whole festival on its head. This edition's programming shows that he would rather streamline the familiar profile and add new touches. For example, the culinary cinema section - a hobby of Kosslick's - has disappeared and Chatrian has added a new competition to the main competition. Encounters. Intended for challenging cinema or unusual approaches of all shapes and sizes. Could this be what Chatrian brought from Locarno? 'Vitality of cinema in all its forms' is the slogan. One example is Gunda, the new documentary by the always surprising Victor Kossakovsky (Aquarela). Presented to us as a philosophical medidation starring animals.

Competition

At first glance, the main competition looks solid, with a mix of newcomers alongside established names from the arthouse domain. Including Christian Petzold, Rithy Panh, Tsai Ming-Liang, Sally Potter and also the American Abel Ferrara, who leans towards dark work. In addition, many works by relatively unknown makers. Attracting much attention in advance is the spectacular German-Ukrainian-Russian project DAU.Natasha. The abysses of the human mind situated in a completely recreated Soviet-era scientific research centre. Much can be expected from the German-Dutch production Berlin Alexanderplatz, A new, contemporary adaptation of Alfred Döblin's novel previously filmed by Fassbinder.

Relatively little flirting with stars or other celebrities this year. We find those to a modest extent in the Berlinale Specials and Panorama aimed at wider audiences. Sigourney Weaver (My Salinger Year) for example.

In terms of the Dutch presence in Berlin, we have to think mainly about the raw coming-of-age story Paradise Drifters, Mees Peijnenburg's first feature-length film. It premiered in Rotterdam last month and has been selected for Generation, the young audience section in Berlin. Starring Bilal Wahib (The Libi). He is also one of ten so-called Shooting Stars here, the most promising young European actors presented annually by European Film Promotion.

Issues

To add lustre to the seventieth edition, there is the programme On Transmission. Seven filmmakers of repute will talk to a colleague they admire. Illustrated with a film from each. For example: Claire Denis releases her deeply human suburban drama 35 Ruhms see and chose Olivier Assayas with his vampire film Irma Vep.

That the entrance of Chatrian and Rissenbeek coincides with the celebration of the 70th Berlinale is, of course, a gift. Yet not everything is celebration. In the run-up to their debut, they got a few nasty pebbles in the shoe.

First, the revelation by Die Zeit of material suggesting that Alfred Bauer, the Berlinale's very first festival director, was a staunch Nazi during World War II. The prize named after him, the Alfred Bauer Silver Bear, has been scrapped by the festival with immediate effect. In its place now a new Silver Bear in honour of the 70th Berlinale. In addition, the festival supports further historical research on the issue.

Jeremy Irons

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Another affair was harder to parry. Hardly had the renowned and versatile British actor Jeremy Irons (71) been appointed as jury president or there was an uproar. Several German media cited that less than a decade ago Irons had condoned the sexual harassment of women and had said strange things about gay marriage came out. You can't really call it a riot, but it obviously came off very badly. Had Chatrian and Rissenbeek sometimes been asleep? Chatrian pointed out that Irons had publicly apologised for those statements years ago, but it continued to gnaw at him. Even though counter-examples could be provided. For example, that Irons had expressed support for people living with HIV and solidarity with victims of right-wing extremist violence.

Women and men

doubly annoying for the festival because its very purpose is to work towards improving the female-to-male ratio in the film world. I know of no festival that keeps such comprehensive statistics on numbers of men and women in all kinds of sections of film selection. Without, it seems, leading to overly coercive choices. In the main competition, 6 out of 18 films have a female director. So that could be better, but it reflects pretty well the situation as it is in the European film industry today.

Not very surprisingly, then, Irons opened the jury press conference with a personal statement. In doing so, he made it clear without further ado that he is an ardent supporter of women's rights, including protection from unwanted sexual treatment and the right to choose abortion. Plus that he thinks legislation allowing marriage between members of the same sex is an excellent thing. He received applause.

My Salinger Year

Then on Thursday night it was time for the opening film, Philippe Falardeau's My Salinger Year. It is the entertaining story of an initially naive young woman with literary ambitions who gets a job as assistant to the literary agent of the famous cult writer J.D. Salinger. All based on the true experiences of Joanna Rakoff, who recorded it in the book the film is named after.

There are many sympathetic sides to this period (New York 1990s) and ironic insight into the literary world. Newcomer Margaret Qualley and veteran Sigourney Weaver as her boss provide a nice contrast. Falardeau has given a laconic slant to the mostly dialogue-based form. Plus the old-fashionedness the film exudes may very well be a deliberate choice.

There, Joanna (also called that in the film) is tasked with answering Salinger's copious fan mail. Everyone should get a standard letter back letting them know that the reclusive Salinger does not read fan mail. But can Joanna get that over her heart? And how will she cope with her writing dreams, with her first boyfriend who barely sees her anymore, and with her new love? And will she be encapsulated by the strange little world she has entered?

Canadian Falardeau, who once made a big impression with the gripping and bold youth film It's Not Me I Swear, walks a path this time that ultimately offers few surprises, a few playful finds notwithstanding. A wittily coloured, yet too volatile chronicle of discomfort and coming of age. As if he wanted to stay too true to the book. Or did he mirror Woody Allen's work too much? An opening film that a party audience won't mind, but which falls short as a statement of a self-renewing festival.

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