Is it possible to start out as a freaky in your head acid trip, amp up into science fiction land, and then shift further into the slasher genre without becoming so completely convoluted that you lose your audience within five minutes? Apparently it is, or at least, that's what I marveled at. Director Panos Cosmatos' first feature film, Beyond The Black Rainbow seems to achieve this miracle.
The film starts with a kind of psychedelic infomercial about the Arboria Institute, a futuristic psychiatric care facility which fuses modern technology, psychology, and pharmacology with a sprinkle of New Age Hippy TLC. Of course, this is not what really goes on in Arboria. For that matter, I'm not really sure EXACTLY what happens in Arboria, but I can say that the relationship between patient Elena and Dr. Barry Nyle (the focus of the story) is anything but healing.
Nyle is crafting Elena into something. What that something is, is not fully explained, but plenty is left up to the imagination. All Elena craves is to see her father, the ailing Dr. Arboria, but Nyle keeps her from him, tormenting her in order to harness a unique power from her.
Visually, the film is incredible. A plethora of beautifully contrasting color tones and blending cuts create a very unsettling feeling; natural, given the context of the story. It is very clear that the Dr. is not all he appears to be and that the patient is more than she appears to be, and the visuals continually heighten this feeling. Swirling cuts fade and cross-fade, blending with freeze frames and heady imagery to put us into the characters rather than merely observe them.
Somewhere along the way, the genre bends as Elena attempts to flee from her white room of constant torment and we journey with her from a mad fluorescent prison into the lush real world of plants and fresh air.
Everyone I've talked to who has seen this film has had something unique that struck them about it, whether they enjoyed the film or not. Suffice to say, it's a multiple viewing type of film, and you will probably still NEVER quite understand exactly where it came from. What I can tell you is this: Panos Cosmatos was never allowed to watch horror movies as a young child. Instead, he would look at the VHS cases and imagine what the films were about, which were dark and twisted. When he finally DID start watching these films his mind was completely blown.
The film just completed a week long run at Cinefamily in Los Angeles. If you can find it anywhere, do not hesitate to check it out.
There have been plenty of great films based on stage plays. Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Dog Day Afternoon, A Thousand Clowns, and Wait Until Dark are all great examples. Robert Altman, a film director who grew largely out of the DIY, anti-establishment, pictures of the 70s has made numerous films based on the stage, but recently I had the good fortune to watch a restored print of his 1982 film adaptation of Come Back To The 5 and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean, a film rife with the crucible nature of a one location stage play, utilizing amazing cinematographic tricks to cut together flashback sequences between a 20 year time span.
The film is about a 20 year reunion of a small town James Dean fan club at their meeting place, the local 5 & Dime. Or so is the premise, but what occurs is an evening of both heartening and tragic revelation sparking a commentary on small town prejudice and close minded obsession.
Sandy Dennis takes up the lead as Mona, a girl who's life long obsession with James Dean has warped her sense of reality, and she plays it was a nervous intensity that both grips and repels the viewer. Cher, in her comeback performance, is Sissy, a promiscuous girl who seeks validation in all of the wrong places. Both girls are incredible, but the knockout performance is Karen Black, who, I can't really tell too much about without giving away an important twist in the whole story. Let me just say that she is the moral compass of the story, the only character who has an absolutely clear motive and desire.
The film sparks questions about morality, truthfulness, and the nature of obsession. Mona, is so protective of her son and her fantasy that rather than letting him live like a normal child, she keeps him cooped up in the 5 & Dime, projecting her own handicap upon him. It brought to mind the actual treatment of the mentally disabled, which hasn't improved all that much since the 80s. I say this, of course, in how we approach those with mental handicaps. There is a stigma, the same as there is toward other groups that are not part of the homogeneous white bred American of the line following the Mississippi. A stigma, that one would assume, would be overcome with progress brought by technology, education, and plain 'ol evolution.
All of this is tied together by the increasingly ambiguous morality, that is not quite shared by all of the protagonists. Some of these women think of themselves as forward thinkers trapped in an oppressive community, but what do they do to escape this community? Everyone has an idea of what it means to be happy, but none of these women seem truly happy. Perhaps happiness can only be derived upon the confrontation of one's own faults and the tearing down of the walls we place around ourselves. At least, that's what it feels like Altman is telling us.
Altman followed this film with Streamers, easily available on netflix.com instant video and also based on a stage play, about homo-eroticism, racism, and the dreaded 'Section 8', in a Vietnam-Era Bootcamp. Other stage based films would follow; Secret Honor and Beyond Therapy to name a few, but Come Back To The 5 & Dime was a benchmark for Altman. He proved that he still had IT, as he would prove again in his late career a few more times.
Austrian director, Belá Tarr, is a curious film maker. His films are known for long takes (we're talking a 1000 ft film magazine for one take long), eschewing color film stock, and telling stories about people in the depths of personal and human struggle. At age 58 he announced that he was retiring from film making, but not without leaving one last film for the critics and audiences.
The story is about a Cab Driver, His Daughter, and the Horse that Friedrich Nietzsche threw his arms around begging for mercy in Turin, Italy 1889. It is known that Nietzsche succumbed to a mute madness and died in the care of his sister, but it is not known what became of the Horse. Utilizing his characteristic real time long takes, we follow what may be the final days of the small family who are surrounded by a terrible wind storm.
To explain any key scenes would merely give away the film, so at the risk of giving myself away, I'm only going to talk about the philosophical concepts of existentialism as presented. This film, is existential to the core. The family is surrounded by an impartial windstorm and drowns in their own depressed repetition. The Horse that Nietzsche "rescued" was originally being beaten by the Cab Driver because of its refusal to move and it becomes clear early on that once the horse makes it home, it does not intend to move any time soon.
Our family is poor. They live on an old farm with no real neighbors to speak of and nothing to eat but boiled potatoes. Nothing good happens, nor does anything truly evil. At the core, there is only nothing, a growing void that has always been there and threatens to swallow them whole at any moment. This is Tarr's metaphor.
His cinematography only heightens this. At the beginning the film is relatively bright, but by the end, the father and daughter are slowly consumed by an inescapable darkness. This darkness, manifested here as a physical entity, is all part of the existential underlining.
While I will admit that watching the film will be daunting to those who are easily distracted. Long takes are the ADD generations enemy, unless they're coupled by suspense and violent action. I myself found myself getting restless myself after watching the two humans eating potatoes for the third time. Ultimately though, this film is a metaphor for the larger concept that there is nothing.
When I say nothing, I mean that we are nothing in the eyes of the universe. We are an insignificant speck to the greater vast space all around us and nature does not have the human concept of empathy. When surrounded by the elements we only have ourselves.
Not for the average viewer, but it is beautifully shot. While it garnered relatively positive reviews from critics, most audiences just plain didn't get it or were bored by the, sometimes agonizingly, long takes. I can't say that I truly liked it, but I also can't say that I truly disliked. I will say this: After watching The Turin Horse I have not found a day where something from the film hasn't entered my conscious thoughts in some way shape of form. I have mentioned this film in casual conversation every day for the last three weeks and I can only assume that is because it affected me in some way. Give it a shot if you think you're up to it.
I love Japanese Cinema. If it weren't for Japanese Cinema, I doubt I would've gotten interested in working in the film industry. That said, my favorite of the contemporary Japanese Directors is, without a doubt, Sion Sono. Most people know him, if they're aware of him at all, for The Suicide Club a bizarre trip into psychological horror. Over the past couple of years he's been making his films at break neck speed, producing a minimum of 2 films a year, which makes this review almost dated. Luckily, the film I'm going to talk about is relatively hard to find in America, so in that way this review will hopefully be relevant.
Based on true events, Guilty of Romance is the third and final part of Sono's "Hatred Trilogy" which began withhis 237 minute epic, Love Exposure. The film opens with a blurb about Love Hotels in Shibuya (a district in Tokyo) and prostitutes who frequent them. It then launches into a mystery about a murder in which a parts of a body were found fused with the plastic arms, legs, and head of a mannequin. Sono tells us his story via past and present tense revealing the past tense details in time with their discovery by the present tense detectives. What unfolds is a sort of negative hero's journey in which the lead character Izumi Kikuchi (fantastically performed by Megumi Kagurazaka), a bored housewife living in a very chaste relationship with her husband is drawn into a seedy world of depravity. Ironically, it is this depraved world that allows her to express herself fully, putting somewhat of a skip in her step. Until...
Everything starts spiraling out of control. Izumi is mentored by another woman Mitsuko Ozawa (Makoto Togashi.) Literature Lecturer by day, prostitute by night, Mitsuko teaches Izumi methods to take control and further gain confidence in herself. Mitsuko is an enigmatic force with questionable motives that will keep the viewer guessing up until the end of the film.
Sono has become a master of finding poetry in the dumpster. Here we have a story about the rejection of decency and the headlong dive into the obscene and yet there is a sense of tragic beauty in his characters. Are they completely to blame for their present condition or are the norms of society so strangely defined that they are pushed in one direction or another? Sono doesn't entirely answer this question. While at moments it feels like he is taking one side or another, it's almost always a red herring. He leaves it up to the audience to decide, rather than try to instill some sort of ideology.
The one moment where it seems like Sono is making a statement is at a bizarre dining table scene. The scene speaks loads about societal class division and he advertantly critiques the way of underhanded politeness in Japanese society. While his seem is very on the head, full of frank dialogue, the characters are all smiles and laughs. In many of Yasujiro Ozu's films, such scenes do NOT contain the frank stabbing dialogue. Instead, while a character may be chastising or criticizing another, they use polite language in a most passive aggressive manner.
Upon completing the film, I discovered that the cut I watched is also 30 minutes shorter than the Japanese release. This, of course, has me curious and I will definitely seek out the longer cut to compare the differences. That is not to say, that I didn't enjoy the international cut, but I am a stickler for watching the absolute closest thing to a true "Directors Cut." Regardless, Guilty of Romance, may very well be considered a poem of depravity. As beautiful as it is disgusting, Sono has once more tapped into the not so hidden dark side of an overtly polite and clean society.
I haven't watched anything particularly NEW in the past couple of weeks. When I say 'new' of course, I'm talking about recently theatrical releases. Instead, I've been combing through my back log of films that I have acquired over the years and, for some reason or another, neglected to watch up until this point. A few months ago I finally sat down and watched Andrzej Zulawski'sPossession in it's manic, gory, uncut glory. Today, I sat down to watch it's predecessor, L'important c'est d'aimer.
The film starts off with an actress (Romy Schneider) going through hell on some sort of film set, which we later discover is a pornographic set. A sneaky photographer (Fabio Testi) takes pictures of her in a compromising moment and she notices him. Somehow drawn to her, he goes to her house the next day proposing to take more artistic pictures in an attempt to make up for his trespass. What ensues is a journey into an understanding of pain, sorrow, filth, and, most importantly, love.
Zulawski's camera is almost constantly in motion, resulting in a slightly delirious, borderline manic feeling, only offset by incredible close-ups with amazing orchestral swells. We are locked into the characters and we want, no, we HAVE to know what is going to happen. Will they succeed or fail miserably? The film does not provide any definitive answers to the more basic questions, but instead offers suggestions for the viewer to take in and digest.
At the heart of it all, it is a love story between people who are caught in a sticky web of failure. They're all failed artists. A failed actress reduced to pornographic films and dubbing work. Her husband (Jacques Dutronc), with multiple failed ventures and an obsession with authentic photographs of classic film stars. It is the photographer who seeks to try and provide them with some success, a venture which fails pretty miserably, but it is through these actions that each character finds a sort of closure and a chance to move on, albeit in unexpected ways.
Zulawski has a reputation for making artistically controversial and often violent films. His films, while excessive in some areas, still are incredibly unique in how he handles eroticism and emotion. The characters in this film, speak quite frankly, but simultaneously they do not give themselves away to each other, making the character dynamics more complex.
This film is not for the faint of heart. There are moments that made my skin crawl, but I do not take those moments as a reason to not watch a film. On the whole, the story is intriguing, the pacing is excellent, the technique is strong, and the acting was top notch. Stellar performances from the three leads and a wonderful supporting role from Klaus Kinski made this film superbly enjoyable.
Catherine Breillat has been dubbed, in the past, as "The Bad Girl of Contemporary French Cinema" and while her recent take on the fairy tale of The Sleeping Beauty is not particularly shocking or risqué, it is still an entertaining exercise in the style of New Wave.
Originally a made for TV film, it was later released in a limited theatrical run and some festival play. Telling the tale of the girl who is cursed from birth to fall into a 100 year sleep at age 16, Breillat's version takes great liberty in it's lore, while simultaneously telling a story about preservation and love. The central character is Anastasia (played for the majority of the film by newcomer Carla Besnainou,) a rambunctious princess who loves reading the dictionary and listening to the ticking of clocks and imagines herself as a knight. From birth she is cursed by a witch (for no real specific reason I might add) to die at age 16. Three other witches intervene and use their powers so that she will instead fall into a sleep for 100 years at age 6 and wake up aged 16, but while she sleeps she live in a fantastic dreamscape.
In the dreamscape, she meets Peter, whom she almost instant falls in love with but who is stolen from her by the Ice Queen. What follows is her search for Peter and the many strange and interesting character's she meets along the way. All while learning the different ways that people grow mentally and emotionally.
Breillat favors long takes, frank dialogue, and honest emotional output from her actors, never afraid to expose the beautiful and ugly things that people do to each other. Thematically, the film is about growing up in a fantasy world and the joys and dangers that come with that. When Anastasia does finally wake up, it's in a world much different from dreamscape, where things are not quite what they seem. It poses a question, can love transcend time?
Since it was designed as a TV film, the budget constraints were considerable. However, because of the minimalist new wave style the film still retains a very entertaining quality about it. Not for the people who love special effects, explosions, and other visceral types of things, but for those who enjoy a more cerebral experience. I found myself specifically drawn to Breillat after watching a documentary called Great Directors(which, incidentally, you can watch on Netflix Streaming.)She's a survivor. Her early career in the late 70s was almost destroyed by critics who found her work to be offensive. She doesn't pull her punches and has a naturalistic approach to sexuality. That scares people sometimes, but I absolutely love it.
As I said before, not for the average movie-goer, but the film kept my attention and it's only 1hr 27min so what's to lose? If you've ever met someone and felt yourself thinking "This guy needs to read a bloody book once in a while." The Sleeping Beauty will not disappoint you. It's available on Netflix Instant along with 4 other works from 2002-onward. Check it out!
For the last few days I've been avoiding watching new films, probably in a subconscious effort to sabotage this blog, which seems ludicrous and is just like me. To circumvent my own stupidity I submit to you this film from 1973 by Italian director Antonio Margheriti (here credited as Anthony M. Dawson), the name used by Eli Roth's character in the final scenes of Inglourious Basterds. If you know anything about this period of Italian Cinema, you know it was dominated by a genre of pulpy, murder/mystery, exploitation films called Giallo. The name comes from the little pulp paperbacks that many of the films are based on which were printed rather cheaply with yellow covers. Giallo is also the Italian world for Yellow, as it were, so the name just stuck. Enough history, let's get into Six Deaths In The Cat's Eye.
The story is set in a small Scottish village and follows a series of murders taking place near a castle and the MacGrieff family who dwell in it. According to legend (in context of the story) when a MacGrieff kills one of his kin the deceased will become a vampire. All of the murders seem to be witnessed by the family cat which lurks around the film letting the audience question whether or not it is somewhat of an ethereal being itself.
Corringa (played by Jane Birken, mother of Charlotte Gainsbourg), the niece of Lady Mary MacGrieff, is the principal lead of the story. She arrives at Castle Dragonston where her Aunt and Mother are arguing about the future of the castle. A dinner scene introduces the rest of the characters, a Priest, a seductive French Teacher, a secretive Doctor, and Lord James MacGrieff (played by Hiram Keller), the supposedly 'Mad' son of Mary. Motive is set almost immediately for murder but as is a staple of good Giallos, we are constantly made to guess until the climax of the film. That being said, the film is in no way a typical Giallo, instead having a very Gothic horror feel to it similar to the Hammer Studios pictures of the same era.
One of the things I really like about the film is the atmosphere. The film makes great use of shadow and motivated light sources. One light source in particular is an oil lamp with a multicolored hood that throws out an array of red, green, yellow, and blue at a few crucially creepy moments thereby emphasizing the terror (and sometimes eroticism) portrayed by the actors.
Many Giallo's are well known for the exploitative look at sex and violence. As the years progressed and the technology progressed many of them got gorier and some practically devolved into hardcore pornography. That is not the case of this film. While the blood does certainly flow, it is not without a macabre sense of taste. The weapon of choice in the film is a straight razor to the jugular and unlike a Fulci film the emphasis is not on the tearing open of the neck, but of the blood flying from the wound. Whether this was due to makeup or time constraints is debatable, but it was quite effective regardless.
While many Giallo's suffer from censorship and long term neglect, this film has been preserved quite well and can be found on DVD in both English and Italian languages. The English dubbing is particularly interesting because many of the side characters, who were dubbed over, have thick Scottish accents including slang. One such appearance is of Birken's partner, the late the Serge Gainsbourg, as a Scotland Yard inspector.
When one thinks of World War II there are definitely a few things that come to mind. Pearl Harbor, The Jewish Genocide, The Atomic Bomb and of course all of the aftermath leading into the Cold War. A not often talked about atrocity is the Japanese Invasion of Nanking, known also as The Rape of Nanking. It was an act of total warfare upon the Chinese Capital, which claimed upwards of 300,000 Chinese military and civilian casualties and resulted in the trials and executions of Gen. Iwane Matsui, Gen. Hisao Tani and foreign minister Hirota Koki (Nanking Massacre. wikipedia.org) while the more sadistic perpetrator Prince Yasuhiko Asaka was granted immunity from the military tribunal due to a pact between Gen. MacArthur and Emperor Hirohito.
There are many idea's surrounding what happened and why, but the fact remains that it is an atrocity seldom talked about on western shores. Although, this is not for lack of trying. Frank Capra made a documentary film in 1944 called The Battle of China which included graphic footage of Nanking and several other areas, but death toll numbers were mere estimates (and they were low at that). There are also a few mid 90s Hong Kong films about the incident, but again, only one of those is available to western audiences. However, it seems that recently western eyes have been getting more interested in the incident. Partially due to the story of John Rabe and the westerners who remained in Nanking and established a safe zone for civilians and refugees. Western Eyes look at these more romantic hero stories which give a kind of Hollywood glossed feel. Regardless of these sentiments, not many films show just how brutal the incident allegedly was. I say allegedly because it is still a huge point of contention between Japan and China, and the true death toll number has not been technically found, although most historians seem to agree on 250,000-300,000.
All films have bias and it is no surprise what the bias is going to be of a film made in the country which suffered. That being said, I still found myself moved, to tears a few times, by Lu Chuan's recent Black and White film, City of Life and Death.
I missed the film on it's VERY limited run at the Nuart Theater and was surprised on "internet blackout/protest day" to find that it had been recently added to Netflix Streaming. The film is a beautiful example of 35mm black and white cinematography. It starts at the end of the Japanese siege and with the capture of the city and moves through the documented history from there. Scenes of warfare and brutality are not far off, including mass executions of KMT and National Army troops as well as civilian casualties.
While most of the characters appear to be documented there are always aspects that have to be viewed from the lens of fiction. The key theme of the story is the weight of war. The Genocide committed by the Japanese troops acting on the orders of a few incredibly atrocious leaders resulted in an open wound for the past 70 years which still has not closed.
While I very much liked this film, I will admit that there was a certain formula that I found a bit displacing. Whether it was at the behest of the censors or an artistic choice is unknown to me (I have not seen Chuan's other works), but there were moments where the characters made "noble sacrifices" which were played up a bit much for my taste. I'm not a nationalistic person and I don't feel any pride when I see someone standing head held high to walk to their death. I do not see the unbeaten spirit of the martyr, I merely see a man walking to inevitable, pointless, death.
Wikipedia had this to say about the censorship process of the film:
The film endured a lengthy period undergoing analysis by Chinese censors, waiting six months for script approval, and another six months for approval of the finished film.[4] It was finally approved for release on April 22, 2009.[5] However, the Film Bureau did require some minor edits and cuts, including a scene of a Japanese officer beheading a prisoner, a scene of a woman being tied down prior to being raped, and an interrogation scene of a Chinese soldier and a Japanese commander.[4]
Sure enough, rape is a common depiction in this film. However, it is not depicted for the mere shock of depiction but as a historical recognition of what happened. There is documentation, via diaries, photographs, and films made by the Safety Zone committee, suggesting that perhaps 1000 instances of rape occurred on a nightly basis. In one instance, the Japanese Army demands 100 women for use as pleasure women for Japanese soldiers at the threat of extermination of the camp. It's harrowing, tragic, and downright depressing to see, but it happened none-the-less and if anything enhances the power of the film.
The most interesting, and perhaps most redeeming, aspect of the film is the Japanese character of Kadokawa. Kadokawa is akin to the conscience of humanity in the film. Through him we see the effects of brutality and suffering that comes from such unrestrained activity. He is the most profoundly affected of the Japanese and we see that he feels absolutely wrong about what is happening. He's a representation of the the duality of man, the idea that good and evil rest hand in hand. Ultimately crushed by the weight of war and the weight of what he has witnessed it is his line, "Life is harder than death" upon which the film ultimately makes it statement audibly. Death is easy; it's living with the understanding that what one has witnessed or how one has acted was grievously wrong that is next to impossible. This is the weight of war.
Chuan received death threats for his sympathetic portrayal of Kadokawa, just for showing the idea that a Japanese soldier could feel wrong about what happened and feel the need to take action, no matter how small that action may have been. Available on Netflix, I highly recommend this one. A beautiful, brutal, emotionally powerful film.
I'm always looking for films that I can't describe after seeing. The type of films that just strike you someplace deep in your chest or in your mind, igniting the fibers and sinews of emotion within your soul. It shouldn't be too surprising that I found this with The Kid With A Bike the new Dardenne Brothers film.
Thematically, the story is about growing up with the psychic wound of abandonment. The main character, Cyril (played by new comer Tomas Doret) has been abandoned to a country run children's home, like an orphanage intended to be a halfway towards foster families. Refusing to believe that his father would abandon him, he attempts to escape from the house and find his father, only to discover that the adults had been telling him the truth. Upon his capture in a medical clinic he becomes bound by fate to Samantha, a hair dresser (played by the wonderfully natural Cécile de France). Samantha becomes increasingly attached to Cyril, first out of pity, and second out of honest love.
The wounds of abandonment are hard felt and Cyril is definitely damaged by them. Psychologically speaking, he cannot reconcile his trauma and acts out in increasingly difficult and vicious ways, seeking love in all the wrong places regardless of the fact that it's been right in front of him all along.
Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne's previous works include the Palmé d'Or winning Rosettaand L'Enfant as well as many others, and they have been working together for the past 37 years. Their style is very influenced by documentary film making, where they got their start, and their stories tend to be about young people in dire situations. They generally eschew music, with the exception of diegetic (motivated by the scene, i.e. a car radio, boom box, or television), although Kid is the first to feature a piece of non-diegetic music, a Beethoven piano concerto. While many of their films do not contain happy or uplifting endings (they are certainly more interested in realism) they focus on the transitory nature of emotion and mental maturity.
I will end on a non spoiler note, that The Kid With A Bike is probably one of their most accessible films to date, in terms of a wider audience appeal. I watched it with a few friends at The Aero in Santa Monica, CA followed by a Q/A with the Dardenne Brothers and I think it's safe to say that everyone in the theater left with the elation of seeing a film that left a feeling inside them that is difficult, if not impossible, to describe with words.
The film should hit theaters in Los Angeles in March, hopefully a wider release is to come, and it has also been nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Foreign Film.
