Over the years, it has been a slow disappearance of 35mm film from commercial theaters in my city but now the transformation is complete. Not a single multiplex in the city shows 35mm anymore and every film is a digital presentation, shown either using a DVD/Blu-Ray disc or a file downloaded via satellite. This seems to have been a change that has happened without any fuss or even much discussion. Although there are a good number of people who love the change to digital and praise the "pristine" quality of digital movies. As far are these cinema goers are concerned, they do not have to put up with scratches or tiny circles in their film anymore. Distributors and studios love digital as well because they can save the cost of producing 35mm prints. In the past, studios had to spend millions of dollars in order to produce thousands of 35mm prints for mass delivery but now studios can get their product out to hundreds of locations cheaply. Theater owners also love digital because the newest film can be beamed via satellite immediately and they can screen multiple shows of a film on the same day. For example, if it were not for digital, then multiplexes would not be able to book 19 to 27 shows of the newest Hollywood film in a single day. Also, with digital, theaters require less people to look after movie projectors. Some theaters have all the shows programmed to be played via a computer and a movie automatically starts on time, even if no one is in the theater.
Even though theaters earn more profit from multiple showings of a film than previously, the ticket price has not changed from the 35mm days. The ticket price for seeing a digital copy of a new Hollywood film in a Calgary multiplex is still $12.75 (Canadian dollars), the same as it was when multiplexes still showed 35mm. However, one can argue that the cost is justified because theater owners have had to spend a lot of money to upgrade to digital projectors, which start from atleast $60,000 per projector to upwards of $150,000. So theaters have to recoup their costs, which is why they are happy with keeping the ticket price the same as previously. Interestingly, theaters who are upgrading to even more “state of the art” digital projectors are charging $3-$5 more per ticket, raising the ticket price to $15.75-$17.75. As it stands, 3D theaters charge a $3 markup for an average price of $15.75.
So is something lost in this transition to digital? If the answer was yes, then one would have seen more debate and even passionate discussions. As it stands, I believe this is one change welcomed by the masses. Although I am not finding much to cheer about. My reason does not have to do entirely with nostalgia even though this past weekend I found myself thinking fondly about the good old days after enjoying a great 35mm print of Attenberg. The film started off with some scratches before the images cleared up and from then on, it was a beautiful film presentation. I am not a purist either who believes 35mm is the only format that should be shown in a cinema. In fact, for the longest time I have argued that seeing a particular film was more important than the format the film was in, which means I was fine with 35mm, VHS tape, DVD or even a stream of bits & bytes. The biggest reason for my dissatisfaction has to with the cost of a digital movie ticket being the same or higher than for a 35mm film. My view is shaped by experiences acquiring 35mm prints for a theatrical showing. Getting all the reels of a 35mm film involved a few hundred dollars of shipping costs plus some hassles involved with getting film reels across customs/borders in time for a film showing. On the other hand, the costs for shipping or downloading a digital file is minuscule. Of course, distributors and studios still probably charge theaters the same fee or pricing structure from the 35mm days because of the newness of their product. The digital delivery of the movie is just a tiny technicality and something that saves studios cost while still ensuring a steady flow of profits. If the studios/distributors are not going to change their rates, then theaters can claim they have no choice. This argument ignores the fact that theaters are showing more shows per day now as compared to a few years ago.
The least theaters can do is openly advertise that audience are going to be watching a DVD/Blu-Ray/downloaded file of a new Hollywood film. Cineplex does advertise the digital presentation of its classic film series and yearly digital film festival where older films are shown for $5. However, things are different with new Hollywood films where no such statements about the digital nature of the film is made. Will that knowledge of seeing a DVD/Blu-Ray of a new film deter some people? Probably not. The novelty of seeing new movies in a theater has to do with the fact that people want be among the first to see a new anticipated blockbuster movie. Also, there is something to be said about the social atmosphere of attending a theater and enjoying the latest gimmick the multiplex has to offer. And multiplexes are indeed doing their best to get crowds to come back in droves by emphasizing the entertainment values of a theatrical experience, first by adding 3D and now by going further with D-Box motion systems. A moving chair in a theater certainly brings to mind the tricks used by John Goodman’s character in Matinee but in a few years more gimmicks will be added. In the last few years, many multiplexes across Canada have expanded beyond films by regularly showing live operas and sporting events on a regular basis to fill their seats and earn revenue. Unfortunately, multiplexes are still not expanding their offerings to include foreign and independent films.
The burden of handling the large array of global cinema falls to a few independent and art house theaters. And it is also these independent theaters who will stick with 35mm because they cannot afford to spend a huge chunk of their revenue to go 100% digital. Considering that these theaters struggle to attract crowds, a move to digital would not make much financial sense. The three art house theaters in Calgary (The Plaza, The Globe and the Uptown) still have the ability to show 35mm and I believe that case will apply for other such venues across North America.
35mm will not disappear completely but it will certainly become harder to find. Just like gramophones and vinyl records can still be found, 35mm theaters will be continue to exist, albeit in limited numbers. It may just happen that if in the future people want to see 35mm films then they would have to pay more for a ticket than for a digital movie because the infrastructure to produce 35mm prints might not be as affordable or accessible.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
El Clasico, one down, three to go
Sat, April 16: Real Madrid 1-1 Barcelona
Wed, April 20: Real Madrid vs Barcelona, Spanish Cup final
Wed, April 27: Real Madrid vs Barcelona, Champions League Semi-final, 1st Leg
Tue, May 3: Barcelona vs Real Madrid, Champions League Semi-final, 2nd Leg
Wed, April 20: Real Madrid vs Barcelona, Spanish Cup final
Wed, April 27: Real Madrid vs Barcelona, Champions League Semi-final, 1st Leg
Tue, May 3: Barcelona vs Real Madrid, Champions League Semi-final, 2nd Leg
Very few rivalries in world football can match Barcelona vs Madrid, so it is something unique to witness these rivals play each other four times in eighteen days in three different competitions. Saturday's 1-1 draw meant that Barcelona are still in a comfortable position to win the Spanish league title but things will get really interesting starting with Wednesday's Copa del Rey final. One of these two teams will win their first trophy of the season on Wednesday, along with bragging rights. Regardless of what happens on April 20, it is next week that will be most important for both teams. Jose Mourinho's entire selling point for getting the Real Madrid job was that he talked about bringing back the Champions League trophy to Madrid, a trophy Real have not won since Zidane's brilliant winner against Bayer Leverkusen in 2002.
Interestingly, the last time both teams played each other in the Champions League was in the semi-finals of 2002. That time, Madrid prevailed 3-1 on aggregate en route to their 9th Champions League trophy. So if Jose is to make good on his promise, then Madrid have to overcome the powerhouse that is Barcelona football club. Last year, Jose had no problems selling himself as the best candidate for Real Madrid even when Real was managed by Manuel Pellegrini. Yet, things have not been easy for Mourinho. Just like he did in Italy, Jose has complained about referees in the league and blamed everyone else but himself for his team's shortcomings. The fact is Madrid have done worse in the league compared to this stage last season under Pellegrini. Plus, Pellegrini never led his Madrid team to a 5-0 defeat at the hands of Barcelona, like Jose did back in November.
Plenty of drama to unfold over the next two weeks. In the meantime, another look at some past El Clásico games:
Real Madrid 2 - 6 Barcelona : May 2, 2009, a double by Henry
Real Madrid 2 - 6 Barcelona : May 2, 2009, a double by Henry
Real Madrid 4 - 1 Barcelona: May 7, 2008
Barcelona 3 - 3 Real Madrid: March 10, 2007, Messi hat-trick
Real Madrid 5 - 0 Barcelona: January 7, 1995, Zamorano hat-trick
Barcelona 5 - 0 Real Madrid: January 8, 1994, Romario hat-trick
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Gaspar Noé Films
Two films by Gaspar Noé:
Seul contre tous / I Stand Alone (1998)
Enter the Void (2009)
Enter the Brain
I Stand Alone allows unfiltered access to the inner thoughts of a jobless butcher (Philippe Nahon) whereas Enter the Void visually depicts images that are circulating in a soul’s memory bank. The differing method of words vs images in the two films drives each film’s presentation and style. I Stand Alone is packed with words due to a constant stream of thoughts that bounce around inside the butcher’s head. He does not talk much to others but since he is always thinking, the film is never short on words. On the other hand, most of Enter the Void is from the perspective of Oscar’s (Nathaniel Brown) soul, who can only observe people. The camera accordingly allows the audience to see what his soul is seeing, so the film is short on dialogue and the only words that filter through are bits of conversation Oscar’s soul can make out. The camera also dips inside his brain and as a result, the audience visually sees the memories that are getting triggered. This perspective also explains the repetitious scenes of Oscar’s parents accident that are shown in the film. A human being often thinks of certain situations over and over again, which means the same thought is recirculated in the brain usually with similar associated images and feelings. Oscar is haunted by the death of his parents and cannot forget that tragedy, so he is often thinking of that accident. His thoughts may initially drift off in different directions but no matter what path his memories take, the destination is always the car in which his parents were killed.
Enter the Void
Near the end of I Stand Alone, the butcher wants to enter a void by ending his life but he manages to stay in the real world. However, in Enter the Void Oscar literally enters a void (via a different route than what the butcher intended) and also manages to re-emerge from that void. Interestingly, a tiny spliced shot in I Stand Alone shows a birth but that birth does not take place until the ending of Enter the Void.
The end is just the beginning
Commercial cinema is never short on happy endings but incredibly, Gaspar Noe also provides a happy ending in all three of his features albeit with a slight deviation. Irreversible moves backwards and ends on a calm note as all the brutality and ugliness is shown long before the end. Enter the Void also ends on a positive note when a birth is meant to signify a new beginning. At first it looks like I Stand Alone will end on a miserable note but the audience is given a 30 second warning to leave the theater if they want to avoid seeing any violence. For those that stay, the film shows the butcher succumbing to the demons inside his head and falling to the lowest depth imaginable. However, it turns out that evil act was just in his imagination and the camera pulls out of his brain to show that some form of morality still exists.
If the film had ended at this point, the ending would have been happy indeed. However, the final words uttered by the butcher hint that he may just go ahead and do whatever he wants. So that means after the final credits bad things could happen but as far as the audience is concerned they can leave with some measure of hope.
However, getting to the ending in all these films is anything but a pleasant experience. Irreversible has two segments (fire extinguisher & the rape scene) which cause discomfort while Enter the Void shows an immoral world of drugs, sex and corruption where happiness is always out of reach. I Stand Alone drags the audience through the butcher’s sickening thoughts and actions but the film also shows that society around the butcher is not that hopeful either. Poverty, joblessness and racism is rampant and one wonders how many more butchers are wandering around the streets.
Yes there is a director here
The final credits of I Stand Alone say “You have been watching a Gaspar Noe film”.
It is hard to imagine audience can ever forget his name after watching any of his features. His films cannot be dismissed with a shrug of the shoulders but instead warrant a reaction of some sort, be it positive or negative. Of course, his films divide audience but one truly feels that Noe has directed his films and everything shown is as per his vision. The camera bounces around when it is needed to and if the camera is not moving, then it is stationary for a reason. Majority of Enter the Void is from the point of view of Oscar’s soul, so a hovering camera angle is essential for creating that feeling. To this effect, the film manages to sustain a floating point of view right until the end and does not take any shortcuts. The start of Irreversible features a camera that spins around giving an impression of a fly navigating around buildings before landing up inside a room to listen to the wisdom of a naked man (Philippe Nahon). However, the camera is absolutely still during the nine minute long rape sequence because that is what Noe intended. If there was any moment in the film that the camera needed to look away, it was during that sequence in the tunnel. Yet, the audience is not offered that option. In I Stand Alone quick zooms and cuts, punctuated with offscreen gunshots, point to the volatile mental state of the butcher. The butcher’s mind is working in overdrive and building up hatred for everyone around him. He cannot sit still even for a minute, is constantly agitated and often acts out the first thought that enters his brain. So the rapid fire editing gives the film an accelerated pace and highlights his restlessness.
Also credits in Noe’s films are a talking point in themselves. Irreversible features credits that run backwards and sideways while Enter the Void assaults the senses with a brightly colored credit sequence that zips by in a flash and uses various eye-catching fonts.
Personally, I think I Stand Alone is the most complete film out of the three while Enter the Void is the best directed film. Irreversible is a few notches behind the other two but it is also the film that got the most attention and ensured his other two films were accessible.
Seul contre tous / I Stand Alone (1998)
Enter the Void (2009)
Enter the Brain
I Stand Alone allows unfiltered access to the inner thoughts of a jobless butcher (Philippe Nahon) whereas Enter the Void visually depicts images that are circulating in a soul’s memory bank. The differing method of words vs images in the two films drives each film’s presentation and style. I Stand Alone is packed with words due to a constant stream of thoughts that bounce around inside the butcher’s head. He does not talk much to others but since he is always thinking, the film is never short on words. On the other hand, most of Enter the Void is from the perspective of Oscar’s (Nathaniel Brown) soul, who can only observe people. The camera accordingly allows the audience to see what his soul is seeing, so the film is short on dialogue and the only words that filter through are bits of conversation Oscar’s soul can make out. The camera also dips inside his brain and as a result, the audience visually sees the memories that are getting triggered. This perspective also explains the repetitious scenes of Oscar’s parents accident that are shown in the film. A human being often thinks of certain situations over and over again, which means the same thought is recirculated in the brain usually with similar associated images and feelings. Oscar is haunted by the death of his parents and cannot forget that tragedy, so he is often thinking of that accident. His thoughts may initially drift off in different directions but no matter what path his memories take, the destination is always the car in which his parents were killed.
Enter the Void
Near the end of I Stand Alone, the butcher wants to enter a void by ending his life but he manages to stay in the real world. However, in Enter the Void Oscar literally enters a void (via a different route than what the butcher intended) and also manages to re-emerge from that void. Interestingly, a tiny spliced shot in I Stand Alone shows a birth but that birth does not take place until the ending of Enter the Void.
The end is just the beginning
Commercial cinema is never short on happy endings but incredibly, Gaspar Noe also provides a happy ending in all three of his features albeit with a slight deviation. Irreversible moves backwards and ends on a calm note as all the brutality and ugliness is shown long before the end. Enter the Void also ends on a positive note when a birth is meant to signify a new beginning. At first it looks like I Stand Alone will end on a miserable note but the audience is given a 30 second warning to leave the theater if they want to avoid seeing any violence. For those that stay, the film shows the butcher succumbing to the demons inside his head and falling to the lowest depth imaginable. However, it turns out that evil act was just in his imagination and the camera pulls out of his brain to show that some form of morality still exists.
However, getting to the ending in all these films is anything but a pleasant experience. Irreversible has two segments (fire extinguisher & the rape scene) which cause discomfort while Enter the Void shows an immoral world of drugs, sex and corruption where happiness is always out of reach. I Stand Alone drags the audience through the butcher’s sickening thoughts and actions but the film also shows that society around the butcher is not that hopeful either. Poverty, joblessness and racism is rampant and one wonders how many more butchers are wandering around the streets.
Yes there is a director here
The final credits of I Stand Alone say “You have been watching a Gaspar Noe film”.
It is hard to imagine audience can ever forget his name after watching any of his features. His films cannot be dismissed with a shrug of the shoulders but instead warrant a reaction of some sort, be it positive or negative. Of course, his films divide audience but one truly feels that Noe has directed his films and everything shown is as per his vision. The camera bounces around when it is needed to and if the camera is not moving, then it is stationary for a reason. Majority of Enter the Void is from the point of view of Oscar’s soul, so a hovering camera angle is essential for creating that feeling. To this effect, the film manages to sustain a floating point of view right until the end and does not take any shortcuts. The start of Irreversible features a camera that spins around giving an impression of a fly navigating around buildings before landing up inside a room to listen to the wisdom of a naked man (Philippe Nahon). However, the camera is absolutely still during the nine minute long rape sequence because that is what Noe intended. If there was any moment in the film that the camera needed to look away, it was during that sequence in the tunnel. Yet, the audience is not offered that option. In I Stand Alone quick zooms and cuts, punctuated with offscreen gunshots, point to the volatile mental state of the butcher. The butcher’s mind is working in overdrive and building up hatred for everyone around him. He cannot sit still even for a minute, is constantly agitated and often acts out the first thought that enters his brain. So the rapid fire editing gives the film an accelerated pace and highlights his restlessness.
Also credits in Noe’s films are a talking point in themselves. Irreversible features credits that run backwards and sideways while Enter the Void assaults the senses with a brightly colored credit sequence that zips by in a flash and uses various eye-catching fonts.
Personally, I think I Stand Alone is the most complete film out of the three while Enter the Void is the best directed film. Irreversible is a few notches behind the other two but it is also the film that got the most attention and ensured his other two films were accessible.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Pere Portabella Spotlight
I had never heard of Pere Portabella until I came across Jonathan Rosenbaum’s wonderful book Goodbye Cinema, Hello Cinephilia in which Rosenbaum has two essays discussing Portabella’s films. In the first essay, published in 2006, Rosenbaum talks about the joy of discovering Portabella’s film Cuadecuc, Vampir at Cannes in 1971. Jonathan also talks about the lack of availability of Portabella’s films on DVD which is a reason why his films never got much attention in North America. Thankfully, a DVD set was available by 2009 for which Jonathan wrote his second essay. Pere Portabella’s films are even more accessible now thanks to mubi.com who have almost all the director’s shorts and films available for online viewing. Certainly, all the films that Jonathan talks about in his essays are available on mubi.com. So Jonathan’s essays are a direct reason for selecting films as part of this spotlight:
Nocturne 29 (1968)
Aidez l'Espagne (1969, short 5 min)
Miró l'altre (1969, short 15 min)
Vampir (1970)
Umbracle (1972)
Informe general (1976)
Warsaw Bridge (1989)
The Silence Before Bach (2007)
Starting point
It is always a pleasure to dive into a director’s work without having read much about their films. This allows a person to navigate through the work on their own terms without any context or history getting in the way. Of course, there is always the danger that one can go off course in interpreting the films but the pure unfiltered joy in discovering the films surely overrides the risk. Although when it came to Pere Portabella, it was hard to approach his work without any filters. He is a Catalan filmmaker and my first instinct was to wonder whether his Catalan identity would have any political attachments associated. The only reason I would consider that is because my first introduction to Catalan identity was via FC Barcelona, Catalunya’s most visible global symbol. Barcelona are one of the best footballing teams in the world but the roots of their bitter rivalry with Real Madrid is dipped in political fire. Francisco Franco did his utmost to suppress Catalan identity which included Barcelona football club. The Barca fans could not criticize Franco without suffering any backlash but they could direct their hatred towards the team that Franco supported, which was Real Madrid. In fact, Franco used to attend matches between the two teams in Barcelona’s stadium, Nou Camp, where Barca’s fans could openly shout at Real Madrid without any consequences. The origin of Barcelona's rivalry does not mean that all Catalan film directors depict political topics. For example, no political trace exists in director José Luis Guerín’s In the City of Sylvia or Guest. As it turns out, in the case of Pere Portabella the political tag sticks not only because Portabella made films that were brave enough to deal with nationalistic questions head-on but because he was selected as a Senator in 1977. From his official website, pereportabella.com:
”Since the 1960s, Portabella always maintained a political commitment with all those movements against the Franco dictatorship that supported individual and collective democratic liberties.
In 1977, he was elected Senator in the first democratic elections and he participated in the writing of the present day Spanish Constitution.”
Informe General is an almost three hour documentary that looks at events after Franco’s death. The opening five minutes contain ominous music as the camera hovers around the structure that contains Franco’s tomb. The music ends when the camera focuses on his tomb and the name "Francisco Franco". Immediately after that shot, the music is upbeat and positive as if a cloud of darkness has finally been lifted. However, that music quickly gives way to tones emphasizing urgency before police sirens are added to the mix. The scenes that follow show violent clashes between police and protesters, scenes which in recent months have been all over the news, ranging from Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Bahrain and other Middle-East countries. In the film, the scenes emphasize the clashes that took place between the state, Franco loyalists and citizens aching for freedom.
The film then does something remarkable which is hardly ever seen in political films. It gives all the relevant parties a voice. So we hear from heads of political parties, unions and ordinary citizens whose lives were altered under Franco. In a remarkable sequence, near the end of the film, the heads of all five political parties discuss what the future holds for Spain.
The five parties, liberals, social-democrats, socialists, communists and christian-democrats, were never united prior to Franco’s death but they were all able to put aside their differences after his death. Their discussions helped usher in a new democratic phase in Spanish life.
A trio of black and white films, with a pinch of color
Cuadacuc, Vampir is a black and white documentary about the making of Jesus Franco’s Count Dracula. Portabella’s feature provides a fascinating look into the filmmaking process in general as we get to see various challenges and hurdles involved in making a feature film. The rich photography gives the work a 1930’s feel even though the documentary is about a modern day color feature. Reading in between the lines, it feels like the fake vampire in the film is a loose representation of Francisco Franco & his brutal blood sucking dictatorship.
Jonanthan Rosenbaum explains the film’s name change and the underground nature of the film:
It’s worth adding that the name of the filmmaker and the title of his film were both slightly different from the way we know them today, for reasons that are historically significant. The name of this Barcelona-based filmmaker was listed as Pedro Portabella and his film was called simply Vampir. Why? Because he was Catalan, a language forbidden in Franco’s Spain, making both the name “Pere” and the word "Cuadacuc" (which I’m told is an obscure Catalan term meaning both a worm’s tail and the end of a reel of unexposed film stock) equally impermissible. Furthermore, Portabella wasn’t present at the screening because, as I later discovered, he was one of the two Spanish producers of Luis Buñuel’s Viridiana one decade earlier, and the Franco government was punishing him for having helped to engineer this subterfuge by confiscating his passport, making it impossible for him to travel outside of Spain. And for those like myself who wondered how a film as unorthodox as this could play in Franco Spain at all, it eventually became clear that it survived, like the Catalan language itself (not to mention Dracula), clandestinely, via secret nourishment.
Umbracle highlights the kidnappings, torture and censorship that existed in Franco’s regime. The film starts off harmlessly with a man looking around in a shop. The ominous music indicates something is wrong but the images show nothing out of the ordinary. A phone starts ringing but no one picks it up nor can we see where the phone is located. Instead, the man walks out of the shop and stands at a corner, trying to light his cigar.
The street is empty except for one passerby. Suddenly a car comes around the corner and a few men jump out and grab the passerby and put him in the car. The phone continues ringing in the background. The man with the shades looks on. The same pattern is repeated on another day leading to another kidnapping. The phone assists in the flow of information while the ringing phone that is never picked up represents the citizen who has disappeared without a trace. By imposing a kidnapping with the sound of a ringing phone, Portabella is able to convey the ruthless and spy like nature of a cruel regime without using any dialogues.
The first words that are spoken in the film are around the fourteen minute mark when the rules of censorship in Spanish Cinema under Franco are outlined. The extensive rules were applied not only to a finished film but also to a film script in progress. As the commentator notes that such strict rules meant that some filmmakers started to self censor themselves in order to ensure their film was made. It is eye-opening to see such revelations about cinematic censorship in 1970’s Spanish society as one would not normally associate such strict rules with a Western European nation. When a government prevents freedom of expression and identity, then making a film can be an act of revolution and a film camera becomes a great political weapon.
Nocturno 29 is the most experimental of the three black and white Portabella films but it also manages to command the most visual attention due to the presence of Italian actress Lucia Bosé who is a pleasure to look at. The fragmented manner of presenting a love affair recalls Antonioni’s L'Eclisse.
The camera keeps a close watch on Bosé’s character and lovingly follows her, allowing the audience to observe her getting dressed, undressing, walking around gardens and smiling.
When her character goes to take a shower, the glass door disperses her image into a lovely mosaic which gives a sense of her figure but manages to hide her body.
A little bit of color makes its way near the end of the film.
The film does not contain any political elements but the title does not hide its implications as it refers to 29 “black years” of the Franco dictatorship.
Musical connections
Warsaw Bridge and The Silence Before Bach are joined by a love of classical music and manage to portray their stories with plenty of enjoyable musical pieces.
"What’s wrong with music?
No great composer has appeared in years and why is that?
Because silence no longer exists."
The following exchange at a party in Warsaw Bridge can also be used to highlight the importance of silence in films. Modern day commercial cinema is afraid to use silence and it seems that many directors are afraid of even having few seconds pass by without a dialogue, explosion or background music. Maybe it has something to do with the disappearance of silence from most major cities around the world? Whatever the case, silence is a key component of a film. It used to be and it should always be. Pere Portabella understood this which is why silence is present in most of his films.
The story of Warsaw Bridge is inspired from a real life incident when a scuba diver’s body was discovered in a burning forest. The rest of the film manages to put forth a possible theory about how the diver ended up meeting his death in that manner by incorporating loosely tied segments of a love triangle, engaging conversations about art, musical segments and intriguing visuals. One worthy visual sequence takes place in a fish market and manages to make a trio of dead sharks look terrifying and captivating at the same time. Another pleasing segment features a conductor who is standing in the middle of a market, with his orchestra located on individual apartment balconies and building roofs around him. His instructions are conveyed to the orchestra via television sets.
The Silence Before Bach appropriately starts off in silence as a camera moves around empty halls of a gallery. Suddenly music fills the screen and we quickly encounter the source -- a mechanical piano.
Then more music is played in the form of slow notes as a man fine tunes a piano while his dog quietly sits on the floor, absorbed in the music as well. There are multiple stories in The Silence Before Bach which take place in between various musical sessions. The stories range from the past to the present and tackle a variety of topics such as observations about Germans and their love for soccer and music, truckers talking about their lives and an enthusiastic butcher expressing delight about adding rosemary when cooking meat. As soon as one story ends, music comes on in the form of an unrelated segment, followed by another tale without music. This pattern of alternating dialogue and music makes for an absorbing experience. If there was ever a film to lose one self in, this would be it.
Overall
Pere Portabella’s films do not follow a conventional narrative but if one lets the images wash over them, then there is a chance to derive a pleasure from his films. Overall, a truly worthy discovery, all thanks to Jonathan Rosenbaum who is an amazing critic and a pure cinephile. Unlike most critics who are busy reviewing the latest Hollywood blockbuster, Rosenbaum uses his writing to talk about discovering new foreign/independent films and hunting down older films.
As a major aside: I am probably the only person to think this but I might as well say it. The camera angles which capture Lucia Bosé’s smile and beauty in Nocturno 29 made her look like Aishwarya Rai. Just saying...
Nocturne 29 (1968)
Aidez l'Espagne (1969, short 5 min)
Miró l'altre (1969, short 15 min)
Vampir (1970)
Umbracle (1972)
Informe general (1976)
Warsaw Bridge (1989)
The Silence Before Bach (2007)
Starting point
It is always a pleasure to dive into a director’s work without having read much about their films. This allows a person to navigate through the work on their own terms without any context or history getting in the way. Of course, there is always the danger that one can go off course in interpreting the films but the pure unfiltered joy in discovering the films surely overrides the risk. Although when it came to Pere Portabella, it was hard to approach his work without any filters. He is a Catalan filmmaker and my first instinct was to wonder whether his Catalan identity would have any political attachments associated. The only reason I would consider that is because my first introduction to Catalan identity was via FC Barcelona, Catalunya’s most visible global symbol. Barcelona are one of the best footballing teams in the world but the roots of their bitter rivalry with Real Madrid is dipped in political fire. Francisco Franco did his utmost to suppress Catalan identity which included Barcelona football club. The Barca fans could not criticize Franco without suffering any backlash but they could direct their hatred towards the team that Franco supported, which was Real Madrid. In fact, Franco used to attend matches between the two teams in Barcelona’s stadium, Nou Camp, where Barca’s fans could openly shout at Real Madrid without any consequences. The origin of Barcelona's rivalry does not mean that all Catalan film directors depict political topics. For example, no political trace exists in director José Luis Guerín’s In the City of Sylvia or Guest. As it turns out, in the case of Pere Portabella the political tag sticks not only because Portabella made films that were brave enough to deal with nationalistic questions head-on but because he was selected as a Senator in 1977. From his official website, pereportabella.com:
”Since the 1960s, Portabella always maintained a political commitment with all those movements against the Franco dictatorship that supported individual and collective democratic liberties.
In 1977, he was elected Senator in the first democratic elections and he participated in the writing of the present day Spanish Constitution.”
Informe General is an almost three hour documentary that looks at events after Franco’s death. The opening five minutes contain ominous music as the camera hovers around the structure that contains Franco’s tomb. The music ends when the camera focuses on his tomb and the name "Francisco Franco". Immediately after that shot, the music is upbeat and positive as if a cloud of darkness has finally been lifted. However, that music quickly gives way to tones emphasizing urgency before police sirens are added to the mix. The scenes that follow show violent clashes between police and protesters, scenes which in recent months have been all over the news, ranging from Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Bahrain and other Middle-East countries. In the film, the scenes emphasize the clashes that took place between the state, Franco loyalists and citizens aching for freedom.
The film then does something remarkable which is hardly ever seen in political films. It gives all the relevant parties a voice. So we hear from heads of political parties, unions and ordinary citizens whose lives were altered under Franco. In a remarkable sequence, near the end of the film, the heads of all five political parties discuss what the future holds for Spain.
The five parties, liberals, social-democrats, socialists, communists and christian-democrats, were never united prior to Franco’s death but they were all able to put aside their differences after his death. Their discussions helped usher in a new democratic phase in Spanish life.
A trio of black and white films, with a pinch of color
Cuadacuc, Vampir is a black and white documentary about the making of Jesus Franco’s Count Dracula. Portabella’s feature provides a fascinating look into the filmmaking process in general as we get to see various challenges and hurdles involved in making a feature film. The rich photography gives the work a 1930’s feel even though the documentary is about a modern day color feature. Reading in between the lines, it feels like the fake vampire in the film is a loose representation of Francisco Franco & his brutal blood sucking dictatorship.
Jonanthan Rosenbaum explains the film’s name change and the underground nature of the film:
It’s worth adding that the name of the filmmaker and the title of his film were both slightly different from the way we know them today, for reasons that are historically significant. The name of this Barcelona-based filmmaker was listed as Pedro Portabella and his film was called simply Vampir. Why? Because he was Catalan, a language forbidden in Franco’s Spain, making both the name “Pere” and the word "Cuadacuc" (which I’m told is an obscure Catalan term meaning both a worm’s tail and the end of a reel of unexposed film stock) equally impermissible. Furthermore, Portabella wasn’t present at the screening because, as I later discovered, he was one of the two Spanish producers of Luis Buñuel’s Viridiana one decade earlier, and the Franco government was punishing him for having helped to engineer this subterfuge by confiscating his passport, making it impossible for him to travel outside of Spain. And for those like myself who wondered how a film as unorthodox as this could play in Franco Spain at all, it eventually became clear that it survived, like the Catalan language itself (not to mention Dracula), clandestinely, via secret nourishment.
Umbracle highlights the kidnappings, torture and censorship that existed in Franco’s regime. The film starts off harmlessly with a man looking around in a shop. The ominous music indicates something is wrong but the images show nothing out of the ordinary. A phone starts ringing but no one picks it up nor can we see where the phone is located. Instead, the man walks out of the shop and stands at a corner, trying to light his cigar.
The street is empty except for one passerby. Suddenly a car comes around the corner and a few men jump out and grab the passerby and put him in the car. The phone continues ringing in the background. The man with the shades looks on. The same pattern is repeated on another day leading to another kidnapping. The phone assists in the flow of information while the ringing phone that is never picked up represents the citizen who has disappeared without a trace. By imposing a kidnapping with the sound of a ringing phone, Portabella is able to convey the ruthless and spy like nature of a cruel regime without using any dialogues.
The first words that are spoken in the film are around the fourteen minute mark when the rules of censorship in Spanish Cinema under Franco are outlined. The extensive rules were applied not only to a finished film but also to a film script in progress. As the commentator notes that such strict rules meant that some filmmakers started to self censor themselves in order to ensure their film was made. It is eye-opening to see such revelations about cinematic censorship in 1970’s Spanish society as one would not normally associate such strict rules with a Western European nation. When a government prevents freedom of expression and identity, then making a film can be an act of revolution and a film camera becomes a great political weapon.
Nocturno 29 is the most experimental of the three black and white Portabella films but it also manages to command the most visual attention due to the presence of Italian actress Lucia Bosé who is a pleasure to look at. The fragmented manner of presenting a love affair recalls Antonioni’s L'Eclisse.
The camera keeps a close watch on Bosé’s character and lovingly follows her, allowing the audience to observe her getting dressed, undressing, walking around gardens and smiling.
When her character goes to take a shower, the glass door disperses her image into a lovely mosaic which gives a sense of her figure but manages to hide her body.
A little bit of color makes its way near the end of the film.
The film does not contain any political elements but the title does not hide its implications as it refers to 29 “black years” of the Franco dictatorship.
Musical connections
Warsaw Bridge and The Silence Before Bach are joined by a love of classical music and manage to portray their stories with plenty of enjoyable musical pieces.
"What’s wrong with music?
No great composer has appeared in years and why is that?
Because silence no longer exists."
The following exchange at a party in Warsaw Bridge can also be used to highlight the importance of silence in films. Modern day commercial cinema is afraid to use silence and it seems that many directors are afraid of even having few seconds pass by without a dialogue, explosion or background music. Maybe it has something to do with the disappearance of silence from most major cities around the world? Whatever the case, silence is a key component of a film. It used to be and it should always be. Pere Portabella understood this which is why silence is present in most of his films.
The story of Warsaw Bridge is inspired from a real life incident when a scuba diver’s body was discovered in a burning forest. The rest of the film manages to put forth a possible theory about how the diver ended up meeting his death in that manner by incorporating loosely tied segments of a love triangle, engaging conversations about art, musical segments and intriguing visuals. One worthy visual sequence takes place in a fish market and manages to make a trio of dead sharks look terrifying and captivating at the same time. Another pleasing segment features a conductor who is standing in the middle of a market, with his orchestra located on individual apartment balconies and building roofs around him. His instructions are conveyed to the orchestra via television sets.
The Silence Before Bach appropriately starts off in silence as a camera moves around empty halls of a gallery. Suddenly music fills the screen and we quickly encounter the source -- a mechanical piano.
Then more music is played in the form of slow notes as a man fine tunes a piano while his dog quietly sits on the floor, absorbed in the music as well. There are multiple stories in The Silence Before Bach which take place in between various musical sessions. The stories range from the past to the present and tackle a variety of topics such as observations about Germans and their love for soccer and music, truckers talking about their lives and an enthusiastic butcher expressing delight about adding rosemary when cooking meat. As soon as one story ends, music comes on in the form of an unrelated segment, followed by another tale without music. This pattern of alternating dialogue and music makes for an absorbing experience. If there was ever a film to lose one self in, this would be it.
Overall
Pere Portabella’s films do not follow a conventional narrative but if one lets the images wash over them, then there is a chance to derive a pleasure from his films. Overall, a truly worthy discovery, all thanks to Jonathan Rosenbaum who is an amazing critic and a pure cinephile. Unlike most critics who are busy reviewing the latest Hollywood blockbuster, Rosenbaum uses his writing to talk about discovering new foreign/independent films and hunting down older films.
As a major aside: I am probably the only person to think this but I might as well say it. The camera angles which capture Lucia Bosé’s smile and beauty in Nocturno 29 made her look like Aishwarya Rai. Just saying...
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
2011 Copa America: Japan
Japan has pulled out of this year's Copa America tournament. The Japanese Football association president Junji Ogura said:
"The priority at this moment is to continue saving lives and rebuilding the country after the earthquake and tsunami"
The reasons are perfectly understandable but Japan's withdrawal is a loss for the South American tournament. Japan have improved considerably from the last time they played in Copa America (1999) when they managed only a single point from their 3 group games -- Japan lost the opener 3-2 to Peru, lost 4-0 to Paraguay before tying Bolivia 1-1 in their final game. Japanese football has been on an upward path since they co-hosted the 2002 World Cup. Japan had a fantastic 2010 World Cup where they showed considerable tactical and technical ability in overcoming Cameroon and Denmark to reach the round of 16 before they narrowly lost on penalties to Paraguay after a tight 0-0 game. Japan started 2011 in fine form by beating Australia to win the 2011 Asian Cup. The Copa America in Argentina would have given Japanese footballers another solid test to build on. But not to be.
It is not clear which team will replace Japan but Spain is the front-runner. I will then include the replacement team officially in my Copa America Book & Film Festival. I still plan to read the book and watch the film selected to represent Japan even though I will not be able to use the Japanese entries in the final competition results. So the two entries are:
Book: Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
Film: Tokyo Sonata directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa
"The priority at this moment is to continue saving lives and rebuilding the country after the earthquake and tsunami"
The reasons are perfectly understandable but Japan's withdrawal is a loss for the South American tournament. Japan have improved considerably from the last time they played in Copa America (1999) when they managed only a single point from their 3 group games -- Japan lost the opener 3-2 to Peru, lost 4-0 to Paraguay before tying Bolivia 1-1 in their final game. Japanese football has been on an upward path since they co-hosted the 2002 World Cup. Japan had a fantastic 2010 World Cup where they showed considerable tactical and technical ability in overcoming Cameroon and Denmark to reach the round of 16 before they narrowly lost on penalties to Paraguay after a tight 0-0 game. Japan started 2011 in fine form by beating Australia to win the 2011 Asian Cup. The Copa America in Argentina would have given Japanese footballers another solid test to build on. But not to be.
It is not clear which team will replace Japan but Spain is the front-runner. I will then include the replacement team officially in my Copa America Book & Film Festival. I still plan to read the book and watch the film selected to represent Japan even though I will not be able to use the Japanese entries in the final competition results. So the two entries are:
Book: Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
Film: Tokyo Sonata directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa
Friday, April 01, 2011
Beware of the angry tire!!!
Rubber (2010, France, Quentin Dupieux)
Very few films come with an inbuilt cult classic quality like Quentin Dupieux’s Rubber. A film about a killer tire advertised with some stunning posters easily makes for plenty of buzz and anticipation.
The opening few minutes of Rubber strengthen that cult status with a hilarious monologue which features a cop who faces the camera to describe various sequences that happen in other films for "no reason".
His words prepare the audience to suspend any logic while watching Rubber. Of course, no amount of logic can ever explain a killer tire but the cop’s words ensure that the film gets a critic proof pass. The story then hilariously adds a fake audience within the film who are witnessing the same movie as us, although they are watching the action with binoculars.
The presence of the fake audience turns Rubber into a live reality show within the scripted film that we the audience are watching. The opening sequences of the cinematic reality tire show depict how the tire is awakened and slowly learns to master his psychic killing abilities. At first, the fake audience is amazed and shocked by the tire’s new found powers. Eventually, the novelty wears thin and the audience is bored, especially by long periods of the tire’s inactivity which involve the tire just staying stationery and pondering about his next move. Things take an interesting turn when the tire goes for a drive down the highway and falls for a young woman. The tire follows her and waits for an appropriate opportunity to make another move. In the meantime, the tire takes out his anger on other victims by blowing them up.
The film's posters point to a 1970’s kind of slasher/killer film with plenty of gore but that is not the case. Some blood is shed but not on the scale as indicated by the posters. Instead, Rubber tries to use the 70’s look to incorporate some absurd situations, dry humour and artistic elements. Unfortunately, thirty minutes into the film, the fake audience angle wears thin and the jokes dry out. Some life is injected into the film for brief periods before things come to a standstill again. It is not until the final moments when things truly get interesting after a tricycle gathers an army of killer tires. Alas, the film ends before we get to witness the army of killer tires in action. Why? No reason...
except to leave the door open for a sequel?
Very few films come with an inbuilt cult classic quality like Quentin Dupieux’s Rubber. A film about a killer tire advertised with some stunning posters easily makes for plenty of buzz and anticipation.
The opening few minutes of Rubber strengthen that cult status with a hilarious monologue which features a cop who faces the camera to describe various sequences that happen in other films for "no reason".
His words prepare the audience to suspend any logic while watching Rubber. Of course, no amount of logic can ever explain a killer tire but the cop’s words ensure that the film gets a critic proof pass. The story then hilariously adds a fake audience within the film who are witnessing the same movie as us, although they are watching the action with binoculars.
The presence of the fake audience turns Rubber into a live reality show within the scripted film that we the audience are watching. The opening sequences of the cinematic reality tire show depict how the tire is awakened and slowly learns to master his psychic killing abilities. At first, the fake audience is amazed and shocked by the tire’s new found powers. Eventually, the novelty wears thin and the audience is bored, especially by long periods of the tire’s inactivity which involve the tire just staying stationery and pondering about his next move. Things take an interesting turn when the tire goes for a drive down the highway and falls for a young woman. The tire follows her and waits for an appropriate opportunity to make another move. In the meantime, the tire takes out his anger on other victims by blowing them up.
The film's posters point to a 1970’s kind of slasher/killer film with plenty of gore but that is not the case. Some blood is shed but not on the scale as indicated by the posters. Instead, Rubber tries to use the 70’s look to incorporate some absurd situations, dry humour and artistic elements. Unfortunately, thirty minutes into the film, the fake audience angle wears thin and the jokes dry out. Some life is injected into the film for brief periods before things come to a standstill again. It is not until the final moments when things truly get interesting after a tricycle gathers an army of killer tires. Alas, the film ends before we get to witness the army of killer tires in action. Why? No reason...
except to leave the door open for a sequel?
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Bridging East & West
West is West (2010, UK, Andy DeEmmony)
East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet. Rudyard Kipling.
Kipling’s overused line held true in the absorbing East is East (1999) when George Khan (Om Puri) failed to instill Pakistani values and traditions in his British born children. However, West is West shows that it is indeed possible to bridge East and West provided one has the right teacher and the right book, which in the film happens to be Kipling’s Kim.
West is West takes place a few years after the first film and once again depicts an authoritative George Khan. George’s ways have led all his children, except his youngest son Sajid (Aqib Khan), to leave home. Sajid is tired of getting bullied at school over his Pakistani roots and clashes frequently with his father. After yet another painful episode at school, Sajid insults his father’s heritage. George is shocked by his son’s behavior and decides that the only way to salvage Sajid is to force his son to live and study in Pakistan. George tells Sajid that they are going to Pakistan on vacation in order to visit his elder brother Maneer Khan (Emil Marwa) who left England more than a year earlier. Sajid only learns the truth about his trip after they arrive in Pakistan and is understandably upset. However, a wise sage, Pir Naseem (Nadim Sawalha) comes to the rescue and takes Sajid under his wing. Pir treats Sajid with respect and answers all his queries calmly. The fact that Pir explains the importance of traditions to Sajid wins the young boy over because Pir’s ways are completely opposite from George’s methods. George never explained why his children must follow certain rituals but instead always demanded that everyone obey him without question.
Pir also manages to broaden Sajid’s perspective so that the boy can better mesh his Eastern origins with his Western life. A simple example from Pir explains to Sajid why his father acts the way he does. Pir describes a scenario where he encounters a cobra on his usual way home one day. He questions whether he should continue along the path and risk getting bitten or seek an alternate path to get home. Through this example Pir explains to Sajid that the alternate path is a method to adapt to a different culture and a way of surviving in a foreign land. George never adapted to British life but tried to live his Pakistani life in England and continued moving in the only path he knew.
Sajid is not the only one who goes through a transformation or coming of age process. George is also forced to face his own values and old life. George left his wife and children behind in Pakistan when he moved to England and instead of returning back, he married again in England and had more children. He continued to send money back home in the belief that he was being a good man. However, he neglected his first wife and family, leaving them to endure a life of hardship and struggles. George returns back home after a period of more than thirty years to face his first wife Basheera (Ila Arun) and her wrath. She rightly blames him for abandoning her, especially since she was only fifteen when she got married and was forced to tend to the fields and look after the kids on her own. George is responsible for ruining Basheera’s life but he is also to blame for making life difficult for his second wife Ella (Linda Bassett). Ella is forced to concede that she spent her life trying to force her children to be more Pakistani than English while George himself abandoned his family back in Pakistan. There is a tender moment in the film when both wives sit face to face and even though neither of them can communicate in the same language, they are able to recognize each other’s misery. Puri’s character is constantly frustrated and abusive but unlike a sinister villain, his character comes off as a man caught in a war of traditions. He acts the way he does because he believes it is his duty to enforce the “right” cultural values on his children but in West is West he finally realizes that his ways have alienated him from both his traditional Pakistani and English lives at the same time. George’s behavior was always seen as hypocritical in the first film and that point is emphasized in West is West again, where it is pointed out that he changed his name from Jahangir to George and married a British woman, despite wanting his children to be Pakistani.
George may be a fictional character but his plight is similar to that of countless other immigrant stories. Millions of immigrants moved to new lands through the 1950’s to 80’s with a snapshot of values from their homelands. While their homelands moved ahead and adopted newer values, the immigrants kept their beliefs alive despite being surrounded by a differing set of values. The lack of satellite tv and internet meant that the immigrants had limited information about the changing values of life back home but instead continued to live in their new country with traditions and beliefs which were now frozen in time. Such a way of life may have been acceptable for the parents but it created struggles for their children who were born in foreign countries. East is East and West is West are just two examples of films that depict the cultural clash between first generation immigrant parents and second generation Western children. Even though many films exist on this topic, director Andy DeEmmony and writer Ayub Khan-Din manage to ensure their work is still engaging and contains a warm heart. Ayub Khan-Din had also written the first film and as a result, he is able to provide continuity with the characters even though the second film has been made more than a decade after East is East. It is credit to the returning actors as well that they are able to recreate the same persona from the first film. Om Puri deserves a lot of accolades for presenting his angry character with the same energy even though he picks up his character after a long gap. The new actors perform their parts quite well, especially Ila Arun and Aqib Khan. Arun is well known to fans of Indian cinema for her amazing vocals as a playback singer but she also sometimes plays small roles in Indian films. West is West gives her a bit more screen time than what she normally gets and this allows her to shine. Aqib Khan turns in a commendable performance in his debut film. At the start of the film his character is angry and constantly on edge as one would expect of a teenager, but as the film progresses, we see growth in his character and he matures to care for those around him. He even plays matchmaker for his brother and chases his brother’s dream woman in a hilarious sequence.
West is West contains the same style of humor that made East is East a pleasure to watch but this new film has a calmer core than the first film and that is solely because of the character of Pir Naseem. Pir’s warm smile and philosophical words takes the sting out of any anger that Sajid has. The story may not be new but the presentation and quality of acting manage to make this a pleasurable film to watch.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Spotlight on Chabrol
Claude Chabrol’s unexpected death in September 2010 meant the world lost a core director of the French New Wave. Jean-Luc Godard and Jacques Rivette are now the last remaining Cahiers du Cinema New Wave directors although Alain Resnais, Agnes Varda and Chris Marker remain from the Left Bank group. Chabrol started his film career during a rich period in global film-making through the late 1950’s and 1960’s when mesmerizing films emerged from all corners of the globe. Incredibly, Chabrol remained a prolific filmmaker throughout his career, directing more than 50 features. Chabrol directed his first film in 1958 (Le Beau Serge) and last in 2009 with Inspector Bellamy, meaning he had a staggering average of one film per year over a span of half a century. Not only was he a key filmmaker, he was also a film critic who helped champion other filmmakers via Cahiers du Cinema.
The seven films selected for this spotlight start a decade after Chabrol’s first feature and thus fall outside his New Wave period:
Les biches (1968)
La femme infidèle (1969)
Que la bête meure (1969)
Le boucher (1970)
Juste avant la nuit (1971)
Les noces rouges (1973)
Nada (1974)
In A History of the French New Wave, Richard Neupert notes:
Le beau Serge and Landru mark the beginning and the ending of Chabrol’s contributions to the New Wave proper.....
His first eight films helped make a New Wave, but film enthusiasts had to wait five years, until Les biches and La femme infidele (both 1968), for Chabrol to help truly remake the commercial French Cinema. page 160, second edition.
Adultery & Murder
Adultery is present in four of the seven films but in three of these films, cheating on a spouse is directly connected to committing a murder. In La femme infidèle, Charles (Michel Bouquet) kills his wife Hélène’s (Stephane Audran) lover in a gush of anger while in Les noces rouges the wife (Stephane Audran) and her lover conspire to kill her slimy husband. In La femme infidèle, Michel Bouquet plays the husband who was cheated upon but in Juste avant la nuit his character cheats on his wife (Audran) with their neighbour’s wife and kills his lover in a fit of resentment during a S&M episode.
Que la bête meure features an obnoxious husband Paul (Jean Yanne) who cheats on his wife with her sister but that infidelity is not the reason for Paul’s murder. At the film’s start, Paul runs over a child and drives away leading the son’s father to track down Paul for revenge.
Murder as a battle for Identity
Jean Yanne’s character Popaul/Paul commits gruesome murders in Le boucher where he plays the title character who cannot curb his inner demons. Popaul is not portrayed as a calculative serial killer but as a man who kills whenever his dark self takes over and pushes him to commit the sinister crimes. One side of his personality yearns to be helped and saved while his darker side forces his hands to drive the knife into his victims.
In Les biches, Frédérique (Stéphane Audran) invites a young street artist (Jacqueline Sassard) into her Parisian apartment and tries to seduce the young woman. The young woman never reveals her name so Frédérique names her Why. Frédérique takes Why to her villa outside the city and surrounds her with luxury in order to woo her. When Why pretends to show interest in Paul (Jean-Louis Trintignant), Frédérique gets jealous and pounces on Paul herself. Initially, Why is not taken with Paul but after Frédérique dates Paul, Why wants Paul as well and craves a threesome but Frédérique purposely keeps Why at a teasing distance. The sexual atmosphere that Frédérique creates results in Why losing her identity so much so that she starts dressing and talking like Frédérique in the belief that will allow her to win Paul. Eventually, Why realizes that she will always be a double unless she eliminates Frédérique to fully assume her physical identity.
Arrest as a release from guilt
In Les biches, no guilt is associated with the murder but in some of the other films, the main character is tormented by their reckless murders. Michel Bouquet portrays this guilt with a cold precision in both La femme infidèle (as Charles Desvallees) and Juste avant la nuit (as Charles Masson). In La femme infidèle Charles is relieved to be apprehended so that he does not have live a life of lie. Charles murders his neighbour and best friend François Tellier’s wife in Juste avant la nuit but is tormented by his guilt. He confesses his crime first to his wife Hélène and then to François. Incredibly, both tell him to forget the incident and move on. At first, François’s forgiveness seems to relieve Charles but eventually his guilt possesses him. He makes up his mind to turn himself in but is prevented in doing so by Hélène who cannot bear the humiliation of seeing Charles behind bars.
In Les noces rouges, Lucienne Delamare (Stephane Audran) and Pierre Maury (Michel Piccoli) appear to get away with the perfect murder when they kill Paul Delamare (Claude Piéplu), Lucienne’s corrupt political husband. However, Lucienne’s daughter suspects wrong doing and writes a letter to the police which mentions her mother’s affair with Pierre. That letter leads Lucienne to accept her guilt and give herself up along with Pierre.
Political games & backstabbing
There is a tiny element of political manipulation shown in Les noces rouges where Paul Delamare (Claude Piéplu) is shown to be a shrewd politician who is willing to use people around him as pawns. Paul wants to use his mayoral position for personal profit and is even willing to allow his wife to have an affair with Pierre as long as Pierre assists in Paul’s profitable ways. However, Nada is the only true political film out of the seven which depicts a violent clash between police and a terrorist group over a hostage. The film also shows the sly political games that exist within the various arms of a government that can lead to back room deals and public scapegoats.
Familiar actors and names -- Charles, Paul and Hélène
Stéphane Audran was married to Chabrol from 1964 until 1980 and is the leading star in five of the seven films. In each film, her character is given a slightly different look but it is in Les noces rouges that her character is finally unrecognizable mostly because of her brown hair. Her character is named Hélène in three of the films. In four of the films her character has a passionate love affair whereas in the fifth film her character plays a quiet obedient housewife who stands by her husband even after he cheats on her and commits a murder.
Michel Bouquet gets a similar first name of Charles in La femme infidèle and Juste avant la nuit because both characters are cut from the same cloth of guilt and inner turmoil resulting from murder. Jean Yanne’s character is called Paul in both Le Boucher and Que la bête meure but his character is not entirely similar in the two films, which is why in Le Boucher his character is given an alternate name of Popaul. Claude Piéplu’s character of a corrupt politician in Les noces rouges is strikingly similar to Jean Yanne’s character in Que la bête meure, so it is not surprizing to see Claude Piéplu’s character is also named Paul. Interestingly, Michael Duchaussoy’s character who seeks revenge for his son’s killing in Que la bête meure is also named Charles and Paul's sister-in-law is named Hélène. A character of Paul is also found in Les Bitches but in that film the character is a passive observer of sexual games in between two women.
Dominique Zardi and Henri Attal get varying roles in five and four of the seven film respectively. Both get the most screen time in Les Bitches but after that, their roles get smaller yet both are easily prominent and recognizable in their few minutes of screen time. Zardi and Attal are also found in Juste avant la nuit, La femme infidèle and Nada with Zardi getting an extra appearance in Que la bête meure.
In closing...
Que la bête meure offers the most twist and turns in the planning and execution of a calculated murder. Charles wants to avenge for his son’s murder and plans for a long painful suffering of the murderer. Armed with an accurate theory about the criminal’s identity, a stroke of luck leads Charles to the killer’s sister in law Helene. Charles seduces Helene to get to Paul but once he meets Paul and his family, he realizes that everyone despises Paul, including Paul’s son. What follows is an elaborate game where even the son is involved in the killing of his father, thereby completing the murder cycle.
Chabrol was an admirer of Hitchcock and labeled a French Hitchcock by some for his use of similar motifs of murder and mystery. However, the films in this spotlight show that Chabrol was a bit more subtle than Hitchcock in his murder films and handled the turmoil and crime in a calmer manner. The killers do not panic after they commit their crime and none of them run away. So when police want to find the murderers in La femme infidèle and Les noces rouges, they simply go their homes and arrest the criminals with no fuss. Also, like Hitchcock, Chabrol uses music effectively to alert of impending danger but unlike in Hitchcock’s films, the music in Chabrol’s films is not heightened and does not draw too much attention to events.
The seven films selected for this spotlight start a decade after Chabrol’s first feature and thus fall outside his New Wave period:
Les biches (1968)
La femme infidèle (1969)
Que la bête meure (1969)
Le boucher (1970)
Juste avant la nuit (1971)
Les noces rouges (1973)
Nada (1974)
In A History of the French New Wave, Richard Neupert notes:
Le beau Serge and Landru mark the beginning and the ending of Chabrol’s contributions to the New Wave proper.....
His first eight films helped make a New Wave, but film enthusiasts had to wait five years, until Les biches and La femme infidele (both 1968), for Chabrol to help truly remake the commercial French Cinema. page 160, second edition.
Adultery & Murder
Adultery is present in four of the seven films but in three of these films, cheating on a spouse is directly connected to committing a murder. In La femme infidèle, Charles (Michel Bouquet) kills his wife Hélène’s (Stephane Audran) lover in a gush of anger while in Les noces rouges the wife (Stephane Audran) and her lover conspire to kill her slimy husband. In La femme infidèle, Michel Bouquet plays the husband who was cheated upon but in Juste avant la nuit his character cheats on his wife (Audran) with their neighbour’s wife and kills his lover in a fit of resentment during a S&M episode.
Que la bête meure features an obnoxious husband Paul (Jean Yanne) who cheats on his wife with her sister but that infidelity is not the reason for Paul’s murder. At the film’s start, Paul runs over a child and drives away leading the son’s father to track down Paul for revenge.
Murder as a battle for Identity
Jean Yanne’s character Popaul/Paul commits gruesome murders in Le boucher where he plays the title character who cannot curb his inner demons. Popaul is not portrayed as a calculative serial killer but as a man who kills whenever his dark self takes over and pushes him to commit the sinister crimes. One side of his personality yearns to be helped and saved while his darker side forces his hands to drive the knife into his victims.
In Les biches, Frédérique (Stéphane Audran) invites a young street artist (Jacqueline Sassard) into her Parisian apartment and tries to seduce the young woman. The young woman never reveals her name so Frédérique names her Why. Frédérique takes Why to her villa outside the city and surrounds her with luxury in order to woo her. When Why pretends to show interest in Paul (Jean-Louis Trintignant), Frédérique gets jealous and pounces on Paul herself. Initially, Why is not taken with Paul but after Frédérique dates Paul, Why wants Paul as well and craves a threesome but Frédérique purposely keeps Why at a teasing distance. The sexual atmosphere that Frédérique creates results in Why losing her identity so much so that she starts dressing and talking like Frédérique in the belief that will allow her to win Paul. Eventually, Why realizes that she will always be a double unless she eliminates Frédérique to fully assume her physical identity.
Arrest as a release from guilt
In Les biches, no guilt is associated with the murder but in some of the other films, the main character is tormented by their reckless murders. Michel Bouquet portrays this guilt with a cold precision in both La femme infidèle (as Charles Desvallees) and Juste avant la nuit (as Charles Masson). In La femme infidèle Charles is relieved to be apprehended so that he does not have live a life of lie. Charles murders his neighbour and best friend François Tellier’s wife in Juste avant la nuit but is tormented by his guilt. He confesses his crime first to his wife Hélène and then to François. Incredibly, both tell him to forget the incident and move on. At first, François’s forgiveness seems to relieve Charles but eventually his guilt possesses him. He makes up his mind to turn himself in but is prevented in doing so by Hélène who cannot bear the humiliation of seeing Charles behind bars.
In Les noces rouges, Lucienne Delamare (Stephane Audran) and Pierre Maury (Michel Piccoli) appear to get away with the perfect murder when they kill Paul Delamare (Claude Piéplu), Lucienne’s corrupt political husband. However, Lucienne’s daughter suspects wrong doing and writes a letter to the police which mentions her mother’s affair with Pierre. That letter leads Lucienne to accept her guilt and give herself up along with Pierre.
Political games & backstabbing
There is a tiny element of political manipulation shown in Les noces rouges where Paul Delamare (Claude Piéplu) is shown to be a shrewd politician who is willing to use people around him as pawns. Paul wants to use his mayoral position for personal profit and is even willing to allow his wife to have an affair with Pierre as long as Pierre assists in Paul’s profitable ways. However, Nada is the only true political film out of the seven which depicts a violent clash between police and a terrorist group over a hostage. The film also shows the sly political games that exist within the various arms of a government that can lead to back room deals and public scapegoats.
Familiar actors and names -- Charles, Paul and Hélène
Stéphane Audran was married to Chabrol from 1964 until 1980 and is the leading star in five of the seven films. In each film, her character is given a slightly different look but it is in Les noces rouges that her character is finally unrecognizable mostly because of her brown hair. Her character is named Hélène in three of the films. In four of the films her character has a passionate love affair whereas in the fifth film her character plays a quiet obedient housewife who stands by her husband even after he cheats on her and commits a murder.
Michel Bouquet gets a similar first name of Charles in La femme infidèle and Juste avant la nuit because both characters are cut from the same cloth of guilt and inner turmoil resulting from murder. Jean Yanne’s character is called Paul in both Le Boucher and Que la bête meure but his character is not entirely similar in the two films, which is why in Le Boucher his character is given an alternate name of Popaul. Claude Piéplu’s character of a corrupt politician in Les noces rouges is strikingly similar to Jean Yanne’s character in Que la bête meure, so it is not surprizing to see Claude Piéplu’s character is also named Paul. Interestingly, Michael Duchaussoy’s character who seeks revenge for his son’s killing in Que la bête meure is also named Charles and Paul's sister-in-law is named Hélène. A character of Paul is also found in Les Bitches but in that film the character is a passive observer of sexual games in between two women.
Dominique Zardi and Henri Attal get varying roles in five and four of the seven film respectively. Both get the most screen time in Les Bitches but after that, their roles get smaller yet both are easily prominent and recognizable in their few minutes of screen time. Zardi and Attal are also found in Juste avant la nuit, La femme infidèle and Nada with Zardi getting an extra appearance in Que la bête meure.
In closing...
Que la bête meure offers the most twist and turns in the planning and execution of a calculated murder. Charles wants to avenge for his son’s murder and plans for a long painful suffering of the murderer. Armed with an accurate theory about the criminal’s identity, a stroke of luck leads Charles to the killer’s sister in law Helene. Charles seduces Helene to get to Paul but once he meets Paul and his family, he realizes that everyone despises Paul, including Paul’s son. What follows is an elaborate game where even the son is involved in the killing of his father, thereby completing the murder cycle.
Chabrol was an admirer of Hitchcock and labeled a French Hitchcock by some for his use of similar motifs of murder and mystery. However, the films in this spotlight show that Chabrol was a bit more subtle than Hitchcock in his murder films and handled the turmoil and crime in a calmer manner. The killers do not panic after they commit their crime and none of them run away. So when police want to find the murderers in La femme infidèle and Les noces rouges, they simply go their homes and arrest the criminals with no fuss. Also, like Hitchcock, Chabrol uses music effectively to alert of impending danger but unlike in Hitchcock’s films, the music in Chabrol’s films is not heightened and does not draw too much attention to events.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Genie Awards 2011: Best of Canadian film
It is not surprizing to see that Denis Villeneuve's Incendies is one of the main winners at this year's Canadian Genie Awards, winning 8 awards in total. Barney's Version is the other big winner, with 7 Genies. It is remarkable that these two films won 15 out of the 19 awards eligible for fictional features, with The Trotsky winning two Genies. The Golden Reel Award for top grossing Canadian film at the box office in 2010 went shockingly to Resident Evil: Afterlife. Both Incendies and Barney's Version did not get a proper Canadian theatrical release until January 2011 but even if they were released in 2010, it is hard to imagine either of them grossing more than the $7 million that Resident Evil: Afterlife took in. In fact, Resident Evil accounted for 21% of the total Canadian revenue at multiplexes. One would not consider Resident Evil: Afterlife as a Canadian film but in this day and age of co-productions, the line does blur. Last Train Home, another Canadian co-production, won best documentary.
Full list of winners:
Best picture: Incendies
Direction: Denis Villeneuve, Incendies
Original screenplay: Jacob Tierney, The Trotsky
Adapted screenplay: Denis Villeneuve, Incendies
Lead actor: Paul Giamatti, Barney's Version
Lead actress: Lubna Azabal, Incendies
Supporting actor: Dustin Hoffman, Barney's Version
Supporting actress: Minnie Driver, Barney's Version
Art direction/production design: Barney's Version
Cinematography: Incendies
Costume design: Barney's Version
Make-up: Barney's Version
Editing: Incendies
Original score: Barney's Version
Original song: Already Gone (The Trotsky)
Overall sound: Incendies
Sound editing: Incendies
Documentary: Last Train Home
Live action short drama: Savage
Animated short: Lipsett Diaries (Les Journaux de Lipsett)
Claude Jutra Award: Jephté Bastien, Sortie 67
Golden Reel Award: Resident Evil: Afterlife
Incendies also had the honor of winning best Canadian film at the Toronto, Vancouver and Calgary International film festivals. Hopefully, all these awards means that more Canadians will bother seeing this film in its current limited theatrical run and eventual DVD release.
Popular award shows rarely get things right in awarding the best film, so it is good to see that in Canada a truly worthy film won the top prize. Overall, 2010 was one of the strongest years for Canadian films in recent memory. Besides Incendies, here are some of my picks for 2010 Canadian films which are worth a look:
Curling (Denis Côté)
Heartbeats (Xavier Dolan)
Taylor’s Way (Rene Barr)
Small Town Murder Songs (Ed Gass-Donnelly)
Fubar II (Michael Dowse)
A Simple Rhythm (Tess Girard)
Scott Pilgrim vs the World (Canada co-production, Edgar Wright)
Splice (Canada co-production, Vincenzo Natali)
Splice would have made my best of 2010 year list if the film had not gone overboard in the last 15 minutes. Still, the film deserves to be seen for the many interesting ideas that it contains. Plus, Splice never lets the viewer get comfortable with the material and constantly tries to unsettle its audience.
Fubar II was completely shutout from this year's Genies but the film is enjoyable and has a good heart. Seeing the first Fubar film is not a prerequisite for the second film but it does help in outlining the humor style and the characters. Also, Fubar II won the audience award at last year's Calgary International Film Festival and was easily sold out well in advance of its screening.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Copa America 2011: Venezuela
Entry #2 of the 2011 Copa America Film & Book Festival.
Book: Chronicles of a Nomad by A.A. Alvarez
Film: El Don (2006, José Ramón Novoa)
Bonus Film: Araya (1959, Margot Benacerraf)
Chronicles of a Nomad sheds a light on certain aspects of Venezuelan life in the late 1980's and early 90's such as corruption, political power games, the rise of Hugo Chavez and the banking crisis. Also, the book lays out the cultural jolt that an immigrant experiences upon arriving in a new nation by describing travels across three countries -- Venezuela, US and Greece. However, this self-published work could have certainly benefited from an independent editor who would have made some obvious corrections, helped trim some excess and provided a tighter framework. Example: another pair of eyes would certainly have caught the missing 'not' in the following line of a chapter's opening paragraph:
After Al Gore was elected president of the United States and George W. Bush entered the oval office, it started to rain on our little parade and apparently the country’s sweet economy was made of sugar; and it started to dissolve very rapidly.
El Don is the story about a person’s rise to power and eventual downfall due to political and criminal elements. A proper description of the film is marred by the fact that the DVD copy of the film was without any English subtitles. Still, I was able to grasp bits of the overall structure due to the presence of familiar cinematic characters in the form of omnipresent television reporters, gangsters, and corrupt policemen and politicians. The presence of subtitles would not have elevated the film to a higher rating as the low budget production contains substandard technical aspects (cinematography, sound, editing) and melodramatic acting.
The most memorable aspect of El Don is the presence of Édgar Ramírez who turned in one of the best performances of 2010 in Carlos. Ramírez does not have the main role in El Don but plays Alvaro, a young sidekick with an easy going appearance. Alvaro, who has long hair, wears blue jeans and is always chewing gum, is an ocean away from the smooth talking well dressed Carlos. It is only near the end of El Don that Ramirez's character shows a strong yet negative side in one scene thereby allowing one to draw a faint line from El Don to Carlos. Of course, Édgar Ramírez did not jump to Carlos directly from El Don but instead had multiple roles in films such as The Bourne Ultimatum, Vantage Point, Che: part One before landing up in Carlos.
Margot Benacerraf's Araya depicts the struggles and rhythms of workers who toiled for centuries working in salt mines in the Northern part of Venezuela. This 1959 black and white film contains many beautiful images but unfortunately they are ruined by non-stop narration, which ends up getting repetitive because the filmmaker chose to not let a few minutes go by in silence. The audience is always kept at a distance because at no point do we ever hear the workers talk in their own voices. The film could have certainly benefited from less narration and more use of local sounds and voices, thereby letting the audience get a closer look at the workers.
Comments
Normally one points to certain mistakes made by a filmmaker or an author when one comes across a disappointing work. However, in this case, I feel a bit guilty in the disappointing film and book picked. This is because I wanted to pick entries that represented each country very well in this Copa America spotlight. Also, since the Venezuelan soccer team usually finishes bottom of their group, I had hoped to find a book and film that ensured Venezuela had a decent showing. As things stand, both the Venezuelan book and film are on course to finish bottom in the 2011 Copa America Film & Book festival. One cannot imagine the Venezuelan soccer team to do much better in Argentina at the Copa America as they are in Group B alongside Brazil, Paraguay and Ecuador.
Book: Chronicles of a Nomad by A.A. Alvarez
Film: El Don (2006, José Ramón Novoa)
Bonus Film: Araya (1959, Margot Benacerraf)
After Al Gore was elected president of the United States and George W. Bush entered the oval office, it started to rain on our little parade and apparently the country’s sweet economy was made of sugar; and it started to dissolve very rapidly.
El Don is the story about a person’s rise to power and eventual downfall due to political and criminal elements. A proper description of the film is marred by the fact that the DVD copy of the film was without any English subtitles. Still, I was able to grasp bits of the overall structure due to the presence of familiar cinematic characters in the form of omnipresent television reporters, gangsters, and corrupt policemen and politicians. The presence of subtitles would not have elevated the film to a higher rating as the low budget production contains substandard technical aspects (cinematography, sound, editing) and melodramatic acting.
The most memorable aspect of El Don is the presence of Édgar Ramírez who turned in one of the best performances of 2010 in Carlos. Ramírez does not have the main role in El Don but plays Alvaro, a young sidekick with an easy going appearance. Alvaro, who has long hair, wears blue jeans and is always chewing gum, is an ocean away from the smooth talking well dressed Carlos. It is only near the end of El Don that Ramirez's character shows a strong yet negative side in one scene thereby allowing one to draw a faint line from El Don to Carlos. Of course, Édgar Ramírez did not jump to Carlos directly from El Don but instead had multiple roles in films such as The Bourne Ultimatum, Vantage Point, Che: part One before landing up in Carlos.
Margot Benacerraf's Araya depicts the struggles and rhythms of workers who toiled for centuries working in salt mines in the Northern part of Venezuela. This 1959 black and white film contains many beautiful images but unfortunately they are ruined by non-stop narration, which ends up getting repetitive because the filmmaker chose to not let a few minutes go by in silence. The audience is always kept at a distance because at no point do we ever hear the workers talk in their own voices. The film could have certainly benefited from less narration and more use of local sounds and voices, thereby letting the audience get a closer look at the workers.
Comments
Normally one points to certain mistakes made by a filmmaker or an author when one comes across a disappointing work. However, in this case, I feel a bit guilty in the disappointing film and book picked. This is because I wanted to pick entries that represented each country very well in this Copa America spotlight. Also, since the Venezuelan soccer team usually finishes bottom of their group, I had hoped to find a book and film that ensured Venezuela had a decent showing. As things stand, both the Venezuelan book and film are on course to finish bottom in the 2011 Copa America Film & Book festival. One cannot imagine the Venezuelan soccer team to do much better in Argentina at the Copa America as they are in Group B alongside Brazil, Paraguay and Ecuador.
Monday, March 07, 2011
Lourdes
Lourdes (2009, Austria/France/Germany, Jessica Hausner)
Religion is a divisive element in the human race. It causes wars, divides families, heals and saves people while also leading them down a destructive path. There are struggles over whether God exists and then over which religion is the true path to salvation. Reincarnation is not accepted universally nor is the promise of afterlife. Yet, a majority of the human race still holds faith in some form of religion or God. Then there are those who do not believe in God but believe in an entity of some kind that holds sway over humans. The various faiths may differ but they are still united in their belief towards an omnipresent yet unseen force. The only substantial evidence comes in the form of a miracle, a sign that a higher power does indeed exist. This sign could be an act of a statue accepting a form of human devotion (example: the drinking of milk by Ganesh statues) or it could be an unexpected healing of a person.
Jessica Hausner’s film takes place in Lourdes, a place where millions flock every year to either get healed or observe a sign from a higher power. If people's intentions for making a pilgrimage to Lourdes is a selfish need, then it is inevitable that the small town will be buzzing with gossip and anticipation. The film shows that gossip spreads like wildfire because everyone believes they have an equal chance to get healed. One would expect a dedicated religious person to have better odds of observing a miracle but there are no rational answers as to who can get healed. In Hausner’s film, even the priests are forced to concede the often repeated statement “God works in mysterious ways”. As a result, each and every person who heads to Lourdes believes that a miracle is within reach.
The main character of Lourdes, a gentle and smiling Christine (played perfectly by Sylvie Testud), does not hold any bitterness in her heart, even though she is confined to a wheelchair. Christine also does not let her limited mobility get in the away of making various trips around Europe. Her conversations indicate that she often travels on pilgrimages and cites Rome as her favourite on the basis of the Italian capital’s cultural superiority over Lourdes. Christine has feelings for one of the male officers accompanying them on their pilgrimage trip but those feelings are only one way until Christine is touched by a miracle. The unexpected miracle brings some delight in people around Christine while arouses jealousy and distrust in others. The distrust arises because a miracle is portrayed to be like winning the lottery -- once someone is cured, then no one else can win the life changing prize on a particular trip.
Jessica Hausner brilliantly presents her film with dry wit and humour. The pilgrimage events are depicted documentary style while the script gently pokes fun at the beliefs, rituals and certain egoistic people seeking a miracle. The film does not openly satirize the characters but instead allows audience to derive their own sentiments. Such a vague and open ended presentation of faith and belief brings to mind the style of Todd Haynes’ Safe and Lee Chang-dong’s Secret Sunshine, two films that also present events in a straight forward manner while subtly eliciting laughs at the expense of people who blindly buy into someone else’s beliefs.
Religion is a divisive element in the human race. It causes wars, divides families, heals and saves people while also leading them down a destructive path. There are struggles over whether God exists and then over which religion is the true path to salvation. Reincarnation is not accepted universally nor is the promise of afterlife. Yet, a majority of the human race still holds faith in some form of religion or God. Then there are those who do not believe in God but believe in an entity of some kind that holds sway over humans. The various faiths may differ but they are still united in their belief towards an omnipresent yet unseen force. The only substantial evidence comes in the form of a miracle, a sign that a higher power does indeed exist. This sign could be an act of a statue accepting a form of human devotion (example: the drinking of milk by Ganesh statues) or it could be an unexpected healing of a person.
Jessica Hausner’s film takes place in Lourdes, a place where millions flock every year to either get healed or observe a sign from a higher power. If people's intentions for making a pilgrimage to Lourdes is a selfish need, then it is inevitable that the small town will be buzzing with gossip and anticipation. The film shows that gossip spreads like wildfire because everyone believes they have an equal chance to get healed. One would expect a dedicated religious person to have better odds of observing a miracle but there are no rational answers as to who can get healed. In Hausner’s film, even the priests are forced to concede the often repeated statement “God works in mysterious ways”. As a result, each and every person who heads to Lourdes believes that a miracle is within reach.
The main character of Lourdes, a gentle and smiling Christine (played perfectly by Sylvie Testud), does not hold any bitterness in her heart, even though she is confined to a wheelchair. Christine also does not let her limited mobility get in the away of making various trips around Europe. Her conversations indicate that she often travels on pilgrimages and cites Rome as her favourite on the basis of the Italian capital’s cultural superiority over Lourdes. Christine has feelings for one of the male officers accompanying them on their pilgrimage trip but those feelings are only one way until Christine is touched by a miracle. The unexpected miracle brings some delight in people around Christine while arouses jealousy and distrust in others. The distrust arises because a miracle is portrayed to be like winning the lottery -- once someone is cured, then no one else can win the life changing prize on a particular trip.
Jessica Hausner brilliantly presents her film with dry wit and humour. The pilgrimage events are depicted documentary style while the script gently pokes fun at the beliefs, rituals and certain egoistic people seeking a miracle. The film does not openly satirize the characters but instead allows audience to derive their own sentiments. Such a vague and open ended presentation of faith and belief brings to mind the style of Todd Haynes’ Safe and Lee Chang-dong’s Secret Sunshine, two films that also present events in a straight forward manner while subtly eliciting laughs at the expense of people who blindly buy into someone else’s beliefs.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
Spotlight on Christopher Doyle
I have often chased down films either by a particular director or country for the better part of the last decade. The only exception to this was from 2005-06 when I looked for films that cinematographer Christopher Doyle worked on. Ofcourse, Doyle is no ordinary cinematographer but is one of the top 2-3, if not the best, director of photography working in any film industry around the world. He is best known for his work on Asian films, especially his associations with Wong Kar-wai. In fact, it was Wong Kar-wai’s films that first led me to Doyle's vibrant and fascinating palettes. However, what really drove me to start hunting down other Doyle films was his work on Fruit Chan's Dumplings segment in 2004's Three...Extremes. The Dumplings segment was easily one of the best lit and shot films I had seen that year and that short forced me to seek out other Doyle filmed works. The quest led me to Thai director Pen-Ek Ratanaruang's hypnotic and mesmerizing Last Life in the Universe which naturally led me to the director's next film Invisible Waves. In the few years between 2002-2006, it appeared that anything that Doyle shot was worth seeing. Hero was a visual treat, 2046 was a seductive follow up to the cinematic treasure In the Mood for Love while The Quiet American was a brave political film made in a time of "us against them" policies which left no room for reason or diplomacy.
After Invisible Waves, I eased off on the film hunt and instead dove into various regional, directorial and soccer themed spotlights. Interestingly after 2006, Doyle also moved away temporarily from Asia to work with M. Night Shyamalan (2006's Lady in the Water), Gus Van Sant (2007's Paranoid Park) and Jim Jarmusch (The Limits of Control, easily the best American film of 2009). A perfect opportunity for a Christopher Doyle spotlight would have being in 2006 when his more famous and precious works could have been captured in a single umbrella. As a way to make amends, I decided to finally have an overdue spotlight on Christopher Doyle and use the opportunity to catch-up on some of his previous works which I missed, especially his directorial debut Away with Words which formed the starting point of this 5 film series.
In order of viewing:
Away with Words (1999, Hong Kong co-production, directed by Christopher Doyle)
Happy Together (1997, Hong Kong, Wong Kar-wai)
The White Countess (2005, UK co-production, James Ivory)
Ondine (2009, Ireland/USA, Neil Jordon)
Rabbit-Proof Fence (2002, Australia, Phillip Noyce)
Images, Identity and the ocean
It is not surprizing to discover that Doyle's directorial feature debut is a film rich in visual language. The film does not do away with words as may be indicated by the title but instead the words do not provide a means to enjoy the film. Trying to depend on a narrative driven by dialogue will not lead to a satisfying feeling regarding this film. Instead, one must allow the stunning colors and unique point of view camera angles to form a guide through the film's flashbacks and loosely arranged sequences. The reason that dialogues are not a key ingredient in the film is because the film's three main characters are in a foreign land unable to communicate their feelings or thoughts accurately for variety of reasons.
Asano is a Japanese who finds himself in Hong Kong and is unable to speak the language while Kevin is an Englishman whose drunken episodes lead him to forget his surroundings (including the street name where he lives) thereby getting arrested by the police on a frequent basis. Kevin's girlfriend is also an outsider and tries to form a bridge between Asano and Kevin yet she is adrift in her own sea.
The interactions between the three form the crux of the narrative while Asano's flashbacks of his childhood provide the film's visual strength. Asano loves the sea and not surprizingly his memories are often associated with water. Throughout the film, different camera angles give a sense of the joy that Asano experiences as he mentally makes his way towards the sea. So the camera rushes down the path towards the sanded beach eventually pointing at the rich blue water. One of the film's most unique angles involves seeing the perspective from a tire racing down the street.
Note: Away with Words is co-written by Tony Rayns, the brilliant Asian film programmer responsible for ensuring that the Vancouver International Film Festival (VIFF) unearths promising works from Asian filmmakers around the world every year.
A different affair in Buenos Aries
A steamy affair, love, break-up, agony and seductive music. Welcome to life, Wong Kar-wai style. However, unlike other Wong Kar-wai films, the setting in Happy Together is not Hong Kong but is instead Buenos Aries and the love story involves two men, Lai (Tony Leung Chiu Wai) & Ho (Leslie Cheung). The sexuality of the characters does not matter too much as the relationship issues and arguments portrayed in the film apply universally to both men and women. As a result, the film forms a case study of a broken heart and the misery that loneliness can sometimes bring.
Happy Together starts off in rich black and white before switching over to color around the 20 minute mark. There are 2 moments of color spliced in between the black and white footage and one of them has to do with the dreams of Lai's quest to head to Iguazu Falls. The journey to the world famous waterfalls ends up becoming a defining marker in the relationship between Lai and Ho. The two get lost en route and never make it to the falls while their fight during their drive starts the process of a gradual break-up. Even though Lai and Ho's relationship is shown to be turbulent and has endured many previous split-ups, the fallout from the long car drive is more serious. The film then depicts the sorrow that engulfs a broken heart. A person with a broken heart cannot enjoy anything around them, no matter where they are. In one case, it appears that Lai is asleep during one of the most fierce and noisy derby games in the world -- River Plate vs Boca Juniors. Only a person gripped by depression and misery could sleep in such a hostile environment.
In another case, Lai attempts a common therapy for misery -- alcohol. Naturally, Quilmes is on display as it is the popular beer available around Buenos Aries, or where ever an Argentine soccer game is played for that matter.
The real star of the film ends up being Doyle's camera which injects life in a familiar tale of love & anguish. The camera pushes and prods in confined spaces ensuring that dullness does not fully descend onto the work. A few personal favourite sequences involve the soccer game that employees at the restaurant indulge in during their breaks. The camera ensures the audience feels like another player in the game, trying to play the ball and even receive a pass. In one instance, the game is heard without any background noise but in another case, music blurs out the sounds of the players and the camera slows down to give a poetic look at Lai in the foreground while the sun and the players occupy the background.
War, Love and a perfect bar
The White Countess is set in 1936 Shanghai against the backdrop of an impending Japanese Invasion and a World War. Although, one would not know much about the political situation in the world if it were up to Todd Jackson (Ralph Fiennes) as his dream of a perfect bar/club is a place where politics is left outside and patrons can mingle freely without their ideologies. The sentiment is noble and at first it succeeds in attracting clientele to his new club. However, as the threat of a Japanese invasion increases, attendance in the club declines. A Japanese businessman Matsuda (Hiroyuki Sanada) suggests that Todd Jackson needs to slowly introduce some political tension in the club that would then influence more people to attend. Matsuda’s words ring true but by the time the crowds return, the invasion is on the doorstep leading to a mass exodus of people from the city.
The film tries its best to keep any politics elements off the screen which results in a work free of any tension and appearing quite sterile. The dramatic exodus at the end feels at odds with the film's overall calm rhythm and comes too late to make a difference to a movie that produces no lasting sentiments.
A mythical tale dressed up in reality
The enchanting selkie. The lady from the sea. Full of beauty and mystery. Although in modern day, such a lady would arouse more distrust than enchantment. Neil Jordon takes a mythical celtic tale and adds a layer of present day political sentiment about distrust of emigrants and foreigners.
Christopher Doyle's camera perfectly captures the grayish skies and always rain tinged atmosphere that exists in a small Irish town. Interestingly, Doyle came to this film after having worked on M. Night Shyamalan's Lady in the Water, which was a different take on a mythical mermaid tale.
The long journey home
Rabbit-Proof Fence is based on a real life story of three young Aboriginal girl's journey to return home to their mother from the correction camp they were placed in by the Australian government. The camps were created to separate mixed blood children (white & native) from their parents in a government backed experiment meant for the “good of the people”.
The film is a worthy yet rare return for Doyle and Noyce to their native Australia to shoot a film. Doyle’s camera captures the sheer vastness and heat of an unforgiving Australian landscape perfectly.
Auteur theory
The films in this spotlight show that Christopher Doyle has the ability to work with multiple directors in different countries and still provide the necessary look to assist in the filmmakers varying visions. In this regard, the films are a perfect example of seeing an auteur theory at work as the same DOP produces vastly different results depending on who the director is. For example, nothing about The White Countess gives a clue that Christopher Doyle is the DOP as the film looks and feels like a Merchant Ivory Production. On the other hand, Happy Together feels like a Wong Kar-wai film even though it is shot in a completely different continent and culture from other Wong Kar-wai films. A director may be the final authority in the film’s final vision but he/she does depend on a good DOP to achieve their unique vision. It is hard to imagine a Wong Kar-wai film without Christopher Doyle’s creative camera movements in tight quarters.
After Invisible Waves, I eased off on the film hunt and instead dove into various regional, directorial and soccer themed spotlights. Interestingly after 2006, Doyle also moved away temporarily from Asia to work with M. Night Shyamalan (2006's Lady in the Water), Gus Van Sant (2007's Paranoid Park) and Jim Jarmusch (The Limits of Control, easily the best American film of 2009). A perfect opportunity for a Christopher Doyle spotlight would have being in 2006 when his more famous and precious works could have been captured in a single umbrella. As a way to make amends, I decided to finally have an overdue spotlight on Christopher Doyle and use the opportunity to catch-up on some of his previous works which I missed, especially his directorial debut Away with Words which formed the starting point of this 5 film series.
In order of viewing:
Away with Words (1999, Hong Kong co-production, directed by Christopher Doyle)
Happy Together (1997, Hong Kong, Wong Kar-wai)
The White Countess (2005, UK co-production, James Ivory)
Ondine (2009, Ireland/USA, Neil Jordon)
Rabbit-Proof Fence (2002, Australia, Phillip Noyce)
Images, Identity and the ocean
It is not surprizing to discover that Doyle's directorial feature debut is a film rich in visual language. The film does not do away with words as may be indicated by the title but instead the words do not provide a means to enjoy the film. Trying to depend on a narrative driven by dialogue will not lead to a satisfying feeling regarding this film. Instead, one must allow the stunning colors and unique point of view camera angles to form a guide through the film's flashbacks and loosely arranged sequences. The reason that dialogues are not a key ingredient in the film is because the film's three main characters are in a foreign land unable to communicate their feelings or thoughts accurately for variety of reasons.
The interactions between the three form the crux of the narrative while Asano's flashbacks of his childhood provide the film's visual strength. Asano loves the sea and not surprizingly his memories are often associated with water. Throughout the film, different camera angles give a sense of the joy that Asano experiences as he mentally makes his way towards the sea. So the camera rushes down the path towards the sanded beach eventually pointing at the rich blue water. One of the film's most unique angles involves seeing the perspective from a tire racing down the street.
Note: Away with Words is co-written by Tony Rayns, the brilliant Asian film programmer responsible for ensuring that the Vancouver International Film Festival (VIFF) unearths promising works from Asian filmmakers around the world every year.
A different affair in Buenos Aries
A steamy affair, love, break-up, agony and seductive music. Welcome to life, Wong Kar-wai style. However, unlike other Wong Kar-wai films, the setting in Happy Together is not Hong Kong but is instead Buenos Aries and the love story involves two men, Lai (Tony Leung Chiu Wai) & Ho (Leslie Cheung). The sexuality of the characters does not matter too much as the relationship issues and arguments portrayed in the film apply universally to both men and women. As a result, the film forms a case study of a broken heart and the misery that loneliness can sometimes bring.
In another case, Lai attempts a common therapy for misery -- alcohol. Naturally, Quilmes is on display as it is the popular beer available around Buenos Aries, or where ever an Argentine soccer game is played for that matter.
The real star of the film ends up being Doyle's camera which injects life in a familiar tale of love & anguish. The camera pushes and prods in confined spaces ensuring that dullness does not fully descend onto the work. A few personal favourite sequences involve the soccer game that employees at the restaurant indulge in during their breaks. The camera ensures the audience feels like another player in the game, trying to play the ball and even receive a pass. In one instance, the game is heard without any background noise but in another case, music blurs out the sounds of the players and the camera slows down to give a poetic look at Lai in the foreground while the sun and the players occupy the background.
The White Countess is set in 1936 Shanghai against the backdrop of an impending Japanese Invasion and a World War. Although, one would not know much about the political situation in the world if it were up to Todd Jackson (Ralph Fiennes) as his dream of a perfect bar/club is a place where politics is left outside and patrons can mingle freely without their ideologies. The sentiment is noble and at first it succeeds in attracting clientele to his new club. However, as the threat of a Japanese invasion increases, attendance in the club declines. A Japanese businessman Matsuda (Hiroyuki Sanada) suggests that Todd Jackson needs to slowly introduce some political tension in the club that would then influence more people to attend. Matsuda’s words ring true but by the time the crowds return, the invasion is on the doorstep leading to a mass exodus of people from the city.
The film tries its best to keep any politics elements off the screen which results in a work free of any tension and appearing quite sterile. The dramatic exodus at the end feels at odds with the film's overall calm rhythm and comes too late to make a difference to a movie that produces no lasting sentiments.
A mythical tale dressed up in reality
The enchanting selkie. The lady from the sea. Full of beauty and mystery. Although in modern day, such a lady would arouse more distrust than enchantment. Neil Jordon takes a mythical celtic tale and adds a layer of present day political sentiment about distrust of emigrants and foreigners.
Christopher Doyle's camera perfectly captures the grayish skies and always rain tinged atmosphere that exists in a small Irish town. Interestingly, Doyle came to this film after having worked on M. Night Shyamalan's Lady in the Water, which was a different take on a mythical mermaid tale.
The long journey home
Rabbit-Proof Fence is based on a real life story of three young Aboriginal girl's journey to return home to their mother from the correction camp they were placed in by the Australian government. The camps were created to separate mixed blood children (white & native) from their parents in a government backed experiment meant for the “good of the people”.
The film is a worthy yet rare return for Doyle and Noyce to their native Australia to shoot a film. Doyle’s camera captures the sheer vastness and heat of an unforgiving Australian landscape perfectly.
Auteur theory
The films in this spotlight show that Christopher Doyle has the ability to work with multiple directors in different countries and still provide the necessary look to assist in the filmmakers varying visions. In this regard, the films are a perfect example of seeing an auteur theory at work as the same DOP produces vastly different results depending on who the director is. For example, nothing about The White Countess gives a clue that Christopher Doyle is the DOP as the film looks and feels like a Merchant Ivory Production. On the other hand, Happy Together feels like a Wong Kar-wai film even though it is shot in a completely different continent and culture from other Wong Kar-wai films. A director may be the final authority in the film’s final vision but he/she does depend on a good DOP to achieve their unique vision. It is hard to imagine a Wong Kar-wai film without Christopher Doyle’s creative camera movements in tight quarters.
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