Waste of Money.

Perfectly adorable

Great movie! If you want to be entertained and have a few good laughs, see this movie. The music is also very good,

I gave this film a 9 out of 10, because it was exactly what I expected it to be.

What a shame this is not more easily available. In short, I thought this was an astonishing programme. Part tribute to Ken Campbell and part document of Nina Conti's visit to an international ventriloquism conference for a final contemplation of this art-form before giving it up herself (spoiler: she decides to carry on) this documentary riffs on ideas of identity, creativity, grief and regret. Through Conti's relationship with her puppets we are invited to consider our relationship with our own internal monologue and how it often says things which we do not allow to be expressed in conventional ways. In Campbell's words, this voice within us gives expression to what sometimes might be considered "madness" and for ventriloquists provides a legitimate outlet for individualistic expression, the same type of expression that channels our artistry and creativity. This documentary is fascinating, it raises many questions about who we are as individuals, how we present ourselves, what voice or character we choose to put on and what goes unsaid, and is also almost unbearably moving as Conti tackles head on her feelings about her one time mentor and lover Campbell whose unexpected and premature death has driven her on to greater heights within her field almost as a way of somehow keeping him alive. If you get the opportunity, watch this, it really is remarkable television.

I suppose that some ventriloquists and their devoted fans will find fault with this film. (Why does a ventriloquist not want to be a vent any more?; it's like a Hatfield not only being ashamed of being a hillbilly but making a documentary about it; the next family reunion down in the holler is gonna be mighty uncomfortable.) Anyway, the premise of this possibly staged(?) documentary is that Nina Conti is ambivalent about her profession (she is also an actress whose resume includes a few movies and TV series) and about to quit when she learns that her mentor, Ken Campbell, has died. (Everyone but me seems to take seriously the implication that they were lovers, although I take it as distinctly possible that their sexual attraction was never consummated; Freudians will note that Campbell was almost exactly the same age as Nina Conti's father, actor Tom Conti.) I for one do not think that Conti's ventriloquism act stinks, which only added to my puzzlement as to why she would even consider giving it up. (Maybe, as her performance at the Vent Convention suggests, she wants to transcend the traditional limits of what ventriloquism is supposed to be, and that seems a promising direction, judging from her act.)I particularly enjoy Conti's sense of humor, which I found completely disarming. Two examples: Introduced to a half dozen or so figures bequeathed to her by her mentor, Conti gives each of them new names, even though their former owner already named them, and when she simply names the owl figure "Owl," the figure says, "You put a lot of thought into these names, didn't you." Of course that isn't the "figure" speaking, that is the ventriloquist's self-deprecating humor. Later, her performance at a ventriloquism convention begins with her telling her figure, Monkey (she does put a lot of thought into the name thing, doesn't she), that they are standing before a room full of ventriloquists. "No pressure then," says Monkey.One of the things that this film goes into--including in archive footage of Campbell talking about it--is the psychology of ventriloquism. There is also a nice demonstration by Nacho Estrada who deconstructs ventriloquism by removing the traditional figure and bringing in other objects. (I think this is kind of related to where Conti is trying to go with her act.) Most eye-opening for a newcomer to the sociology of ventriloquism is the convention Conti attends. At a rather sterile hotel (Conti finds it depressing), in or near Ft. Mitchell, Kentucky (I'm not sure which, in or near), seemingly hundreds of ventriloquists gather annually and transform the place into a colorful and vibrant community. There is a ventriloquism museum nearby called Vent Haven, where the figures used by past ventriloquists have come to rest. There you will find Mortimer Snerd and Charlie McCarthy, the famous figures of the famous ventriloquist Edgar Bergen, father of actress Candace Bergen.I don't know if this rates as a spoiler so I am counting it as one, but I thought it somewhat odd--in view of the fact that the Vent Haven Museum figures are all labeled "Do Not Touch"--that Conti got one of Campbell's figures soaking wet in the hotel swimming pool, then rung it out, then decided that was the one she was going to donate to the museum; can you say doll abuse? She doesn't seem to have done these things with the intention of possibly donating a damaged figure; she was originally going to donate a bulldog figure and penultimately decided not to donate any figure. Finally she changed her mind--or rather, the figure she donated changed her mind. OK, that IS a spoiler.The figure she turned in was a good choice for donation; you realize that when you see the tag placed on the figure by the museum, describing its history.

For me, it was just very enjoyable to watch. What a talented ventriloquist! Her on-stage performance at the convention alone was worth the price of admission. That said, I don't ever understand why review sites insist on ten lines of text before they will upload your review, but they do. I'm not sure I have ten lines in me. We'll see. I've never written a movie review before, because I've learned over the years that hardly any two people who see the same movie, see the same movie. What I think isn't important. The movie touched me, for whatever reasons; and I just felt like saying how much I enjoyed it. And, once again, the bit she did at the convention was very clever, or so I thought. And now, line eleven (or so it was in the window where this was written).

Nina Conti's film begins with the film-maker asking herself a peculiar question - is this a documentary? - which leads one to wonder, how doesn't she know? Bt the truth is, it is both a documentary and a performance, for Conti, a ventriloquist, is undoubtedly acting for the camera, yet also seems to reveal the extent to which so many practitioners of her art really do live through their creations. Conti seems more natural, almost, in character than as herself - and this is in effect why her former lover first encouraged her to take up the art, as a way of unleashing her creative side. Now he is dead, and this film is a kind of homage to him. Aside from Conti's own genius, what makes this potentially bizarre film work is what it has to say about the way that human beings choose their own characters; and how some of us manage to escape from them.