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The 70th Berlinale International Film Festival will be held from February 20 to March 1, 2020.
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Saturday night fever in Berlin

Feb. 09 ...actually Sunday, Feb. 10, at the wee hour of 2:14 AM...

By Alex Deleon

Crashed around midnight with the beginnings of a slight sore throat.

Just what I don't need in the dead of Brrlinsky winter -- not yet gone viral, but just enough to awaken me, and realize the need for some hot tea and lemon ASAP.  Take lift down to lobby and young Russian guy on desk heats me up some water for chaï and cuts me half a lemon.

Already some assuagement, but thinking that if this condition persists until morning, I may have to take a day off from the festival and just do  lemon tea and honey therapy all day long. Cannot afford to get hivant at this point in time in this neck of the woods. Berlin is not a good place to die.

Not todye, any wigh!

Only saw one film yesterday, the world premiere of an Austrian pic in competition, called "The ground beneath my feet", a stark lesbian tale that left me cold, which is maybe why I got this soreness of throat. (As punishment for not appreciating gay&lesbian issues) -- an Austrian guy sitting next to me informed me that both the woman director and the austere looking blonde cunt lead actress are now very popular in Austria and part of an Austrian New Wave. The pic had its points and some hot in bed lezzy faire, which was a redeeming factor, enough to keep my dirty mind awake throughout although I didn't really givvashit about what will happen to any of the disturbed  people in the picture.

After a mass movement like a slow motion cattle stampede to get out of the gala theater I took an S-bahn 2 stops up to Brandenurg Gate, for the Russian party at the 5 star Adlon Kempiski Hotel.  

I was expecting hot juicy Russian Whore Derves  but quickly assumed that this was a low rent event from the cute dry potato chip like offerings on the tables and no champagne to back up the  beer and pitiful selection of soft drinks.  I hear the groovy part with food, champagne and music was later in th eevening. There were hardly any Russians there to speak of and certainly no famous directors or actors to speak with. A few industry grunts.  However I did run into a couple of people who know me, namely, Alice Kanterian, the mad Armenian Romanian interpreter who speaks no Armenian, and rents out sofa space in Cannes, and then, most surprisingly, Bruno Chatelin, founder and Honcho of my main writing outlet, and the publisher of my articles.  I didn't recognize Bruno at first until he started taking many pictures of me and identified himself. 


Bruno Chatelin and I (he is the founder of the website


We had a nice chat over in an adjoining conference room where a presentation of Russian projects at the festival was about to take place. But sensing there was nothing in it for me and holding a ticket for a new German film I decided to take a powder and left.  Back out in the cold I felt a twinge of incipient soreness in my throat and  thought better to pass up the German film and head for the warmth of my trusty Russian hotel. . But first I had to pickup my festival bag and computer which I had left at the Garderobe in the Hyatt. Very tired by this time from bouncing around town it was an effort to climb the stairs at the Hyatt from the lobby up to the cloak room which is located just at the top of the stairs. I must have looked like the wreck of the Hesperus after the painstaking mounting of the two sets of stairs because a young lady by the name of Dorothea took pity on me and  invited me into the Golden Bear Lounge for  a spot of  champagne to tone down my physical misery. 

On the way out I noticed an unusually large crowd in the Hyatt lobby, people gearing up for the Red Carpet entrance to the gala screening of Fatih Akin's much touted new film about a serial killer in Hamburg called "The Golden Hand".  I am somewhat of a fan of the work of Turco- German director Fatih but I'm not so sure his latest opus is going to be my cup of tea. Struggle past the CinemaxX to get to the Postdamer Platz bustop and catch the one that drops me off exactly at the front door of my Hotel. Back in my room after a heavy day, and take a hit of Armenian Ararat Cognac  to sooth the throat before hitting the sack. Festival day three now history but I have only seen three films so far. However, I have gotten in a lot of writing. The main film tomorrow night will be an oldie, Nagisa Oshima's 1986 weirdo comedy "Max mon Amour" in which Charlotte Rampling has an affaire with a French gorilla named "Max".  I saw that one when it first came out in Japan back then but think it will  a pleasant break now from the austere offerings on tap at this festival to see it again -- if the throat behaves and responds to Ararat treatment.






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Berlin 2019: The dailies from the Berlin Film Festival brought to you by our team of festival ambassadors. Vanessa McMahon, Alex Deleon, Laurie Gordon, Lindsay Bellinger and Bruno Chatelin...
Ambiance, film reviews, trailers and podcasts, EFM insider information, and much more.
Feel free to leave us your comments and share the blogs with more fans from the festivals scene.




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