EIFF 2010: Zombies, Sluts and Cave Dwellers

I made it to Edinburgh for the Film Festival this week and watched six films in just over 24hrs. I haven't managed this kind of rate since the Schwarzenegger VHS marathons of my teens. Arnie's films had the advantage of generic and thematic coherence - it didn't much matter if you fell asleep during Commando and woke up in the middle of Predator. Not so the EIFF. The bewildering range of films demands constant attention.

I enjoyed the Greek zombie shocker, Evil in the Time of Heroes, which threw out characterisation and plot – in fact, any real desire to make sense - in favour of frenetic invention and buckets of gore. Underlying moments of sublime silliness was a deep seam of nihilism that was hard not to read in terms of the recent crisis in Greece. As one of the characters asks in a scene set in ancient Athens: “What the hell is happening in this fucked-up city state?” Oh yes, the film also features Billy Zane as a cut-price version of CBBC's Raven. Where did it all go wrong, Billy?

The Girl with Black Balloons is a moving documentary about an eccentric, elderly artist living in the Chelsea Hotel. It reveals exactly what will happen if you don't do as your mother says and tidy your room. For fifty years. Chase the Slut brings a low-budget, hipster aesthetic to a touching romantic comedy with a surprisingly conservative message. Vanessa Claire Smith, the film's writer and lead, gives a wonderfully attractive performance. Move over Jennifer Aniston, your time is up.

Restrepo follows a platoon of US soldiers serving a tour of duty in a remote and dangerous valley in Afghanistan. Fighting the Taliban with a combination of old fashioned spadework and hi-tech weaponry, they seem caught somewhere between Star Wars and the Great War. The footage of combat is extraordinary, but what prevents this from just being a war junky's dream is the intimacy and care with which the film-makers record the lives of the impossibly young soldiers. Restrepo threatens to make war reportage morally respectable.

If Restrepo left me feeling shell shocked, the experience of watching so many films in such a short space of time left me suffering from post-cinematic fatigue. This turned my thoughts to those poor souls who would be spending the whole two weeks of the Festival watching films at this rate. I imagine that by the end they will resemble the creatures that you find living in caves or under rocks. They will be pale, their limbs atrophied from lack of use and the rather tight seating in Filmhouse 2. Only the strongest will have maintained their critical perspective, able to refrain from declaring whatever film they saw last the greatest ever made. I wish them luck.