Although so far I have written reviews for this blog
solely about debut features, this article is going to be a bit different. I'm
using this chance to commend the great selection for the Santa Barbara
International Film Festival, which has started yesterday. Although many films
will premiere on the 31st edition of this famous American festival, I have
noticed a great number of acclaimed movies which I have followed on their
festival routes in 2015. These are foreign independent movies, many of them the
official entris for the Academy Awards, representing their countries and
fighting for the most important film award in the world.
Another reason I'm writing this post is because I
received a fair share of inbox messages after I had posted the „You Carry Me“
review. Many of my readers wanted to know where they can watch it. I, myself,
have seen „You Carry Me“ on a series of
organized screenings called EFP's Oscar Screenings, but I was curious to see
when and where will this film have the official North American premiere. I'm
happy to inform that whoever is interested, can see „You Carry Me“ at the Santa
Barbara International Film Festival next week. The screening dates are February
10th and 11th, so don't miss it.
As for the rest of my list of recommendations, I'm
listing it below:
You Carry Me:This Croatian feature
follows three daughters in the pursuit of happiness and reconciliation with
their fathers and confronts loss and desire at their highest stakes.
Koza:Languidly paced, texturally
gritty, and groundbreaking in production style, this feature film portrays a
poor Romany boxer, a former Olympiad from Slovakia who must endure a series of
last fights to get enough money to convince his girlfriend not to abort their
coming child.
Silent Heart: Before taking pills that will end her life,
a mother suffering from a terminal illness spends a weekend with her
adult daughters.
Viva:Jesús is a young gay hairdresser in
the heart of Havana, Cuba, whose dreams of becoming a lip-synching drag queen
are threatened when his hard-drinking widower dad comes home from prison
surprisingly soon.
The
Wave:Quite possibly the most realistic
natural-disaster film ever made, this thriller follows one geologist’s attempts
to save his family when an avalanche unleashes a powerful tsunami in
Norway’s fjords.
Three bank robbers walk into a dysfunctional home on the
prairie in JT Mollner‘s cold-bloodedOutlaws and Angels, filmed and
premiering at Sundance in glorious 35mm. The premise naturally evokes Quentin
Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight, particularly when it comes to the outlaws,
however light their presence may be. Amongst the three groups — the
outlaws, the Tildon family and the law — angels, too, are largely missing in
the film.
Opening on a small farm estate we are briefly introduced to
the Tildon clan: patriarch George (Ben Browder) is a tough recovering alcoholic
who attempts to get right with the Lord, even if his daughters Flo (Francesca
Eastwood) and Charlotte (Madisen Beaty) aren’t buying it. Short on life outside
of the homestead (they’re told most of the eligible bachelors in town have
taken ill) they remain the ward of George until they are liberated by a band of
outlaws.
The western aesthetic mostly works as the film delivers kill
shots that surprise, leaving several bodies on the floor. When it tries to
twist the format into the kind of dark contemporary road coming-of-age dramas
festivals seem to specialize in, its impact lessens. Outlaws and Angels has
rare moment of tenderness amongst the ugliness, which make it a nearly
impossible to review without spoiling a key plot point.
It’s great to see a film shot and projected on film at
Sundance. Too bad they didn’t know how to record sound. Half the locations drown
out the actors and the score sounds like it was recorded on a boom box, it’s so
blown out and distorted. That’s just one of the technically incompetent,
amateurish aspects of Outlaws and Angels.
Director JT Mollner and cinematographer Matthew Irving go
overboard on zoom lenses in every scene. If Sergio Leone were still here to see
this, he’d say, “Settle down, dudes.”
Congratulations on getting this first feature into the
Sundance Film Festival. I believe it's the film's first and last success.
Three mothers — one temporary, one irresponsible, one remorseful — collide in "Tallulah," a poignant drama propelled by top-flight performances. Tallulah, or Lu (Ellen Page), lives out of her van, grifting and stealing with her boyfriend Nico (Evan Jonigkeit). When Nico abandons her, Lu goes looking for him in New York, visiting Nico's mom Margo (Allison Janney), who hasn't heard from her son in two years. Lu then goes scrounging in a Manhattan hotel, and ends up hired as a nanny for Madison, the ignored toddler of Carolyn (Tammy Blanchard), a wealthy boozer who's less concerned with her child than with her burgeoning extramarital affair. Lu decides to take Madison out of the hotel and to Margo, telling her that Madison is Lu and Nico's child. Writer-director Siân Heder's sharp, observant script introduces three wholly original female characters, all grappling in different ways with the constraints of motherhood. Those characters are well served by Page, Janney and Blanchard, who find depths of emotion in what otherwise could have been thin stereotypes. The emotional triple-punch they deliver is genuine and gut-wrenching. Even when the script veers into contrived setups that have free spirit Tallulah waking Margo from her torpid life, "Tallulah" consistently offers terrific scenes featuring the duo of Page and Janney (who, it is worth noting, also excels in every solo scene). Their work together is the vibrant source of the film's appeal, and "Tallulah" is at its best when the plot recedes and we get to see Page and Janney's characters testing their tolerance and eventual affection for one another. Heder's direction shines, shaping the film around the cast as each woman plays out their own specific nuances of loss and insecurity, and, occasionally, optimism. "Tallulah" is an impressive feature debut, and a welcome showcase for the talents of Page, Janney, and Blanchard
“You Carry
Me” is skillfully directed, with scenes with sometimes up to twenty characters,
and with the movie's visuals looking great, the film offers some scenes you've
never seen before. I was captivated by its sheer intellectual power and extremely
current, universal theme and masterful performances. It combines undeniable
authenticity and almost experimental originality with a very attractive, but
unyielding dramaturgy.
The author
created the characters and relationships seen in the movie in such an
intriguing way, so that those same characters stay in your mind long after
you’ve finished watching the movie.With masterful screenwriting, „You Carry Me“
is a kind of triptych about Dora, Ives and Nataša, three women of different
ages, social status and problems with men in their lives, whose stories and
harsh realities are shown in a subtle and discreet , yet very striking way.
Although
they are tough women (and a girl), they're having a hard time breaking through
the ruthless world of post-transition and still existing stereotypical notions
about the roles of daughters, wives and mothers in a contemporary society. The falling rocks are a very interesting
metaphorical solution in the film, which extends throughout the entire plot and
protagonist triptych, and which symbolize the impossibility of overcoming the
difficulties of the main characters.
Dora is a
ten year old girl whose life isn't easy for her. After her father's sudden
departure, she finds her role model in Zdravko Mamić, a controversial Croatian
football manager. She often quotes and admires him, and dreams of one day
becoming a celebrity football manager herself. Chaos returns to Dora's life as
her father returns home, and shortly afterwards she finds out he hasn't changed
at all, as the police show up at their door. Dora's mother Lidija has no more
patience for her problematic husband and she presents him with a choice, asking
Vedran to change his life habits, or leave once and for all.
Ives is the director of a popular TV show. Her job suffers from a lack
of professionalism and poorly written scripts, and she's trying to make ends
meet while caring for her father Ivan, who suffers from dementia. Everyday
chaos at work as well as at home corrodes her, but she's doing her best trying
not to succumb.
Natasa is a producer of the same TV
show, and while she's trying to manage a highly demanding production, she must
confront her own life's tragedy along with her pregnancy.
157 minutes of you know what? Pure cinematic perfection! This movie deals with our everyday life, as
harsh and painful as it is. The tears need to be real, and the pain felt, but
don't be afraid, Juka has left just enough space for hope to shine through and
reach us with a shining bright light. There's always a way out and a chance for
redemption. A dance, a kiss, a hug, these are the small things which matter.
That's the consolation.
„You Carry
Me“ isn’t a movie for women, although it was written and directed by a woman
and filled with female protagonists, nor is it a movie where patriarchy and the
ability (or lack thereof) to overcome their traditional roles make the thematic
backbone. The story radiates dreamy life and brutal fantasy at the same time;
oneiric elements are mixed with reality, and this great two-and-a-half hour
long story, which – not even for a moment – aspires to the title of a Great
Story, never creates the desire to look at the clock. The City of Zagreb (I’ve
never been there, it looks frozen, but amazing) and its inhabitants are not
only existentially alive, but also socially mobile; they are not only portrayed
– they themselves create a reality in which they are (ruthlessly) caught into.
There is no
great historical guilt or the mentioning of certain revolutionary dates –
Juka’s characters are themselves responsible for what has happened to them,
because they live life as it is and not as it once was, or as it should be –
deceptive, implacable, and unfair. European by vocation, but universal by characters,
with great actors of different nationalities and with such a handful of art so
rarely seen in a debut, Juka’s film manages to bring the Man and not the
Citizen, the Story and not the History on regional cinema canvas, which is
rarely seen in that part of the world.
In one
scene, Dora is singing in front of the bathroom while her father is inside with
her brother. Her father told her to sing, so he can know she's outside. This is
perhaps an ordinary life situation, but life is made up of such ordinary
situations. Great writers know how to transform these situations into a
literary text. In the theatre, this is usually impossible. You can find scenes
like that in the movies directed only by great directors who work with even
greater actors.
The ending
itself is exceptionally impressive, and equally moving: Ivona Juka managed to
give almost all of her characters a believable and convincing happy end,
despite all the various suffering she made them endure throughout the
movie. And that is really just one of
the many masterful and daring choices and decisions the author made in the
course of the movie (e.g., an extraordinary example of parallel editing in
which images - of the mother's/wife's adultery, her children playing , her
husband/father and those of sex between a middle-aged pregnant woman and a
young man who is in fact the half-brother of the child in her womb - are extraordinarily interconnected by
association), this time proving again
that she is definitely to be counted on as one of the most prominent figuresand
promising Directors in Europe and beyond.
Rating: 10/10
Babai, which means “father” , Kosovan entry for the Best Foreign Language
Film at the 88th Academy Awards, written and directed by Visar Morinahad its world premiered at the Munich Film
Festival where won three awards. The awards haul increased in Karlovy Vary,
where the film received the best director nod in the main competition and the
Europa Cinema Labels prize for the best European film in the official
selection.
Babai is most expensive
film made in Kosovo in recent times with a budget of
€1.7 million. This was due to a
co-production between that country (Produksioni Krusha), Germany (Niko Film),
Macedonia (Skopje Film Studio) and France (EauxVives Productions).
The story takes place in the early 1990s, sometime
before the armed conflict with Serbia, the film focuses on ten-year-old Nori (Val Maloku) and his father,
Gezim (Astrit Kabashi),who are trying
to make a living in pre-war Kosovo. The pair survives by selling cigarettes on
the streets and thanks to the hospitality of an uncle who offers them a place
to sleep. When this situation is no longer sustainable, Gezim decides to try
his luck in Germany, leaving his son to be cared for by this relative. But this
is something that young Nori, who is very close to a paternal figure he admires
and imitates, won’t consider as an option. Thus he begins a daring and poignant
odyssey across different countries and landing him in some extreme situations,
which will eventually lead him to confront his father for having left without
him. It’s a story from a child’s eyes that present injustices levelled at
immigrants desperate enough to brave the dangerous journey to greener pastures.
Nori is the audience’s window into the world, he sees everything but, due to
his limited understanding, reacts to very little. His face remains impassive as
he watches and experiences the worst aspects of humanity, and expresses himself
like an animal – with actions and noises instead of words.
Morina’s screenplay is a sometimes annoying
mix of the heart-rendingly credible, the naive and the implausible. Many of the
characters fail to register, but that might be the fault of the blunt editing
instead of the script. There is a lot of space to elaborate characters in a
deeper level, especially role of the father, but the absence of melodrama
in the storytelling is impressive.
In the end it turned out that it was much
more about trust. Babai describes
conflict between son and the father everyone can relate to. Rating: 6.5/10
The first thing I though
of after watching Mustang was how much it was inspired by Sofia Coppola's
Virgin Suicides. Set in a remote village in Kastamonu, northern Turkey, about
two hundred kilometers from the capital, Ankara, MUSTANG is the story of five
daughters finishing school at the end of the summer and trying to cope with
their family's demands. Custom dictates that once a girl reaches a certain age,
she should be married off; hence the three oldest daughters are exposed to the
ritual of meeting their partner (chosen for them by their family) and his
family and listening to the groom's family asking for her hand in marriage.
Rings are exchanged; and everyone looks forward to the festivities, when the
entire village has a wild party, the men fire shots into the air, and the
"happy" couple enjoy themselves ... that is, until the dreaded
wedding night ritual.
Deniz Gamze Ergüven's debut feature takes an
even-handed approach towards its material. While certainly sympathizing with
the girls (the narration of Lale, the youngest (Güneş Şensoy) provides an
accurate indication of their feelings), the director also makes it clear that
the arranged marriage of a teenage girl is part of the village custom. Nobody
ever dares to challenge it, because that might destroy the fabric of everyone's
lives.
Yet Mustang also has some trenchant points to
make about the ways in which such traditions can be abused. Uncle Erol (Ayberk
Pekcan) turns out to be a sadist as well as an abuser, whose sole response to
the girls' wanting some kind of freedom is to build higher and higher walls
round the house and install bars across the windows. This is a futile gesture;
the more he creates a prison, the more the girls try to escape from it. There
is a touching sequence early on in the film as all five daughters escape from
their home and catch a bus taking female soccer supporters to Trabzon on the
Black Sea coast to watch a match. Their enjoyment is both palpable and welcome.
In the end Nur decides not to go through with
her arranged marriage; together with Lale they barricade themselves in the
family home and manage to escape Uncle Erol's clutches at last. No one - least
of all the viewers - knows precisely what will happen to them, but they have at
least managed to exercise freedom of choice. The downside, of course, is that
they have also endangered the stability of their village community. This
ambiguity is not resolved by the film's end.
Director Ergüven coaxes some remarkable
performances out of her five youthful actors as the daughters. Her cinematic
style is brisk, even though there are perhaps too many extreme close-ups that
draw our attention away from the characters' expressions rather than focusing
on them. But unless you buy into clichés and overly baked patriarchal
oppression of women in the country, you won't find this film amusing at all. Rating: 6/10
Son of Saul (Saul fia) is a Hungaryan drama film directed by László Nemes and co-written by Nemes and Clara Royer.
The film concentrates on one main character, Saul Auslander (played by Geza Rohrig in a riveting performance), prisoner at Auschwitz in 1944 and a member of the Sonderkommando, a group of prisoners given humiliating and illusory privileges as trusties, with the desperate job of cleaning out the bodies in the death chambers. When he comes across a young boy convinced that the boy was his son (which the film wisely never confirms nor disproves) Saul becomes obsessed with giving the child a proper Jewish burial rather than letting him go into a mass grave or the crematorium. And so the film unfolds, as Saul pursues the one goal that's still meaningful to him.
He's deadened, certainly, but not immune to the horror of what he's doing, or insensitive about the suffering around him. He's just learned to tamp down on any emotional reaction in order to keep himself going from day to day.
Son Of Saul is the rare Holocaust drama that finds actual drama, much clearer than it is case in other films about the Holocaust. Nemes shows us that Happening in Nazi camps happened to all of us, the whole humanity. The film shows that some human feelings could survive in such a death factory but for survivors, this world would never be as colorful as it used to. And that is exactly what the viewer leaves „frozen“.
For most of the film, Nemes shows us Saul’s agonized face, in a shallow focus, tracked through long takes, with the surrounding and background details often left blurred or indistinctly glimpsed: a muzzle flash, a uniform, a naked body. Sometimes we see his back, with the red X marked on his jacket to indicate his status. His is a face from which all emotion appears to have been scorched away – it looks like the face of a pterodactyl.
One of the most devastating and deeply shocking aspects of Son of Saul is that it begins with a gas chamber scene; another film might have opted to end with this kind of scenario, or to finish just before showing it.
The film has an unique approach to the concentration camps. Shot on a tightly framed 35mm hand-held camera, but it still stands passively still for nearly two minutes, the photography is almost always focused on Saul, leaving the atrocities off screen or out of focus, but often vividly audible.
If there is any complaint, it's that the editing suffers from its long-take construction, but the sound design is really great. Saul's face remains stoic, leaving his mournful expression to interpretation. While he's apparently numb, he's always fully invested in the moment.
Having worked for the excellent Hungarian director Béla Tarr, his influence is clearly felt here. Tarr also uses long shots and utilities impassive protagonists but Nemes' work is much more dense, engaging, and arguably accessible in its own way but mostly for the immediate empathy the situation earns.