Deaths in Venice

The excuses were made early in Venice this year. We had barely arrived when we were told that, thanks to the disruption caused by the writers' strike in Hollywood, there were fewer significant US movies available than usual. British films were likewise conspicuous by their absence.

George Clooney and Brad Pitt may have turned up for the opening film, the Coen brothers' Burn After Reading, but they weren't giving interviews. The press had to make do with one of the more moronic press conferences in recent Venice history, an event oddly in keeping with the Coens' film. The brothers pointed out that they had a "long history writing parts for idiotic characters", and noted that idiots make up a large part of the world's demographic. There certainly seemed to be many in the audience, asking Clooney such testing questions as whether he was interested in settling down and having children and Pitt how the twins were faring.

Once the Burn After Reading team left Venice, it suddenly became apparent that this was going to be a near-barren festival for the paparazzi. Very few stars arrived, and relatively few big industry figures were in town either. In their absence, the atmosphere was strangely placid. Journalists used to chasing after celebrities found themselves in the unusual position of having to concentrate on the films instead.

This may have been a conscious strategy on the part of the festival's artistic director, Marco Muller. Perhaps he wanted to hit back against the tyranny of star-driven English language cinema. The problem with his austere, low-wattage programming strategy was that the films he chose were of distinctly variable quality.

There were some crowd pleasers. For example, Uberto Pasolini (producer of The Full Monty) turned up in town with his directorial debut, Machan. This was a yarn about a group of impoverished slum dwellers in Sri Lanka who escape poverty by posing as the country's National Handball Team and heading to the West to compete in a Bavarian handball tournament. It may have been predictable and soft-centred but it was also very likable.

One film in which the British at least had a stake (Film 4 were the financiers) was Fabrice Du Welz's overblown Vinyan. This starred Emmanuelle Béart and Rufus Sewell as a couple who have lost their child in the Asian tsunami. On a video about disaster relief, they catch a glimpse of a boy in Burma who they think might be their son.

Du Welz touches on some highly sensitive subjects. This, though, is less a study of bereavement or crusading social drama than a horror movie. Du Welz throws in references to Don't Look Now and Apocalypse Now as the couple venture further and further into the Burmese jungle and their grip on their sanity begins to loosen. It is not subtle, but the Belgian director has enough visual flair just to get away with his posturing.

An ensemble drama which is bound to be seen everywhere is Guillermo Arriaga's The Burning Plain, starring Charlize Theron and Kim Basinger. Some critics were equivocal about a film which – like everything else Arriaga scripts – tells its story from multiple viewpoints and features constant shifts in time and location. To me, though, this was magnificent film-making – leaner and less flashy than 21 Grams and Babel and more powerful as a result. The narrative, hinging on infidelity and family feuding, may seem soap operatic but Arriaga tackles his material in a raw, elemental fashion as if it were a full-blown Greek tragedy.

Theron – who also produced – gives one of her best performances as an alienated woman with a string of lovers. She works as a manager in an upmarket restaurant in Oregon. Only very slowly do we begin to link her story with that of Basinger, the middle-aged mom having an illicit affair with a Mexican that tears her family apart.

Arriaga is clearly an actor's director. He allows Theron, Basinger and the younger cast members, including the brilliant newcomer Jennifer Lawrence, to offer far deeper and more subtle characterisations than are found in most Hollywood movies about broken families.

The only other feature I saw which matched the raw voltage of The Burning Plain was the Brazilian movie Birdwatchers by Marco Bechis. It is the story of the clash between wealthy, pampered farmers in Brazil with the natives (the Guarani-Kaiowa) whose land they have appropriated. Suicide and alcoholism are rife among the natives, whose only source of income is working in dead-end jobs on the sugar plantations.

One of its most unusual traits is the way it marginalises the white characters. As the director has noted, other film-makers invariably portray natives in a token fashion: "I wanted to reverse the cliché [by] giving the Indians the role of protagonists and keeping the professional white actors in the background."

Both communities are fascinated and repelled by each other. The rich farmers see the Indians as squatters. The Indians are all too aware that the farmers have stolen their land. Violent conflict between them is inevitable.

The Italian press gave an absolutely rapturous reception to 67-year-old Japanese maestro Hayao Miyazaki's new animated feature, Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea. It received a standing ovation at the screening I attended. The enthusiasm was so pronounced that you might have thought it was Citizen Kane or a new masterpiece by Rossellini, not a kids' yarn along Little Mermaid lines about a five-year-old boy who finds a goldfish with its head stuck in a jam jar.

Venice finishes at the weekend. At the time of writing, Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, starring Mickey Rourke as ageing professional wrestler Randy "The Ram" Robinson, is yet to screen. (It was offered a slot earlier in the festival but wasn't yet fully mixed, apparently because the producers had had to wait for Bruce Springsteen to finish the song that will play over the credits.)

In recent years, Venice has had a stronger programme than either of its immediate rivals, Cannes or Berlin. The fact that this year's selection seemed so patchy may have been due to factors beyond the festival's control. However, in a dull year, at least the better movies stick out all the more.

The Venice Film Festival ends tomorrow (www.labiennale.org/en/cinema)

the five best at the festival

the Burning Plain

Guillermo Arriaga's brooding, multi-layered melodrama exploring infidelity, bereavement and family feuding is boosted by top-notch performances from Charlize Theron (right, with Joachim de Almeida) and Kim Basinger.

Birdwatchers

Rich farmers are pitted against native Brazilians in Marco Bechis's subversive and original drama about land, ownership, identity and the legacy of colonialism.

Kabuli Kid

It takes a special kind of talent to make a heart-warming comedy on the streets of present-day Kabul. That is what Barmak Akram has managed with his tale about a taxi driver who finds an abandoned baby.

Valentino:

The Last Emperor

Matt Tyrnauer's portrait of the great couturier Valentino is comic, acerbic, lyrical and has more than a touch of Fellini about it.

Ponyo On The

Cliff By The Sea

Hayao Miyazaki's latest animated feature begins in a spectacular style with an explosion of iridescent colour as it depicts the world beneath the sea.