Marianne and Leonard: Words of Love
(USA, 2019)
directed by Nick Broomfield
This film feels like an odd but effective mashup of idol-worship and warts-and-all expose of Leonard Cohen. Yes, Marianne Ihlen, Cohen's muse and the inspiration for his song "So Long, Marianne," does receive top billing along with Cohen, but the movie really belongs to the singer-songwriter. Even by the end, we really don't know much more about her than that she met Cohen on the Greek island of Hydra after leaving an abusive relationship with her son's father, Norwegian novelist Axel Jensen, and that after Cohen decided she would be his muse, they had a passionate love affair that neither of them really ever got over, despite his frankly awe-inspiring trail of failed relationships and one-night stands.
Several of Cohen's friends and colleagues cheerfully dish the dirt on Cohen, admittedly with great affection, even when they are marvelling at his behaviour. My favourite is author and editor Aviva Layton, who is clearly enjoying herself in the role of the person you really, really want to sit next to you at a dinner party while she tells you all the behind the scenes details of the Canadian literary world of the 1960s and 1970s. "Poets do not make great husbands," she tells the camera dryly, and she should know, having been married for 20 years to Irving Layton. I perked up every single time she appeared onscreen; every word from her mouth is a gem and I would happily watch a documentary entirely composed of Aviva Layton being interviewed about various literary figures and her philosophy of life.
The archival footage from Hydra is idyllic and beautiful, but the ugly reality behind the beauty is revealed when we find out that many of the artists and their children who lived in the island's creative community (like George Johnson and Charmian Clift) suffered from alcoholism and death by suicide in later life. As one adult who grew up in the community comments, the atmosphere of drugs, alcohol, and open marriages took a toll on everyone, particularly the children, who craved more stability had not chosen this kind of life.
Despite his later life as an ascetic in a Zen monastery, Cohen is not immune from the hedonism of the 1960s; far from it. His former guitarist and his road manager both gleefully recount tales of 23-day acid benders and concerts where all the musicians were stoned on Quaaludes. If you ever wondered how accurate the movie Almost Famous was, well, it seems to check out based on this film. There is one memorable sequence where Cohen decides mid-concert that things are not going so well and employs a rather novel method of reviving himself, announcing that he needs to shave his face and he will return to resume playing after having scraped his face with a dry safety razor. Apparently he returned to the stage beaming, with a rash on his face, and finished the concert to everyone's satisfaction, including his own.
And yet, despite the revelation of some truly selfish and self-destructive behaviour on Cohen's part, he does not come off as unlikeable. Perhaps this is because Broomfield also includes clips from Cohen later in life when he is more self-reflective and self-aware. It's not hard to see what Marianne saw in him, and it is sweet to hear his letter to her when they are both in their 80s and she is on her deathbed. I have no doubt his words were sincere. I just wish we could have learned a little bit more about the woman he addressed them to.
Showing posts with label movie review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movie review. Show all posts
Sunday, December 01, 2019
Saturday, September 30, 2017
Film review: The Commune (Kollektivet)
The Commune (Kollektivet)
Denmark, 2015
dir. Thomas Vinterberg
Thomas Vinterberg is good at making movies that hit you over the head like an oncoming train and often subvert your expectations. His film The Celebration was utterly stunning in this regard. I remember thinking I had a reasonably good idea of what it was about before I watched it and being absolutely blindsided by it. Similarly, The Hunt is a powerful piece of cinema that doesn't go as you might think it will.
The Commune is not quite up to the calibre of those films but it is still interesting and worth watching. And like with The Celebration, Vinterberg manages to make it not what you think it will be. The story centres around a married couple, Anna (Trine Dyrholm) and Erik (Ulrich Thomsen), who inherit a huge house. Instead of selling it, at the wife's urging, the couple and their 14 year old daughter Freja (Martha Sofie Wallstrom Hansen) move in to the house and invite some friends and acquaintances to move in with them and form a sort of commune. The first invitee, Ole, is obviously someone Anna has been attracted to in the past, so the red flags go up immediately. How will this all go terribly wrong?
Now at this point all I could think was, oh god, living in this sort of set up would be sheer hell. No other drama necessary, just the thought of sharing space with that many people makes me shudder. But Vinterberg does not take us where we think he will.
Against my expectations, I liked most of the characters. Unfortunately, one criticism I have of the movie is that it doesn't flesh out the secondary characters enough, which is a bit of a waste since all the actors are so good. The only character I disliked entirely was Erik. He's completely insufferable, a totally unselfaware jerk who feels put upon but doesn't realize his actions have gotten him where he is. There are a few things in the movie that made me wonder if Erik is supposed to be a stand in for the director, and for Vinterberg's sake, I sure hope not.
Although I thought Trine Dyrholm did a magnificent job as Anna, my very favourite characters were Ditte (Anne Gry Henningsen) and Steffen (Magnus Millang) and their son, Vilads (Sebastian Gronnegaard Milbrat). At first I feared they would be unbearably twee and annoying, but they quickly grew on me. Vilads is only six but has a heart condition, so he frequently announces that he will not live past nine. Instead of sealing him in a bubble, his parents let him live the life of a normal little boy and experience to the fullest the life he's been given.
I suppose that is what Vinterberg might be trying to get at. Life does not always go how you think it will. You can struggle and rail against it or you can try to live as fully as possible, awkward and painful as that may end up being. Life is messy and humans are imperfect, but generally capable of meaningful connection even in the face of conflict. It's not an original premise, but it's interesting to see what Vinterberg has done with it.
Denmark, 2015
dir. Thomas Vinterberg
Thomas Vinterberg is good at making movies that hit you over the head like an oncoming train and often subvert your expectations. His film The Celebration was utterly stunning in this regard. I remember thinking I had a reasonably good idea of what it was about before I watched it and being absolutely blindsided by it. Similarly, The Hunt is a powerful piece of cinema that doesn't go as you might think it will.
The Commune is not quite up to the calibre of those films but it is still interesting and worth watching. And like with The Celebration, Vinterberg manages to make it not what you think it will be. The story centres around a married couple, Anna (Trine Dyrholm) and Erik (Ulrich Thomsen), who inherit a huge house. Instead of selling it, at the wife's urging, the couple and their 14 year old daughter Freja (Martha Sofie Wallstrom Hansen) move in to the house and invite some friends and acquaintances to move in with them and form a sort of commune. The first invitee, Ole, is obviously someone Anna has been attracted to in the past, so the red flags go up immediately. How will this all go terribly wrong?
Now at this point all I could think was, oh god, living in this sort of set up would be sheer hell. No other drama necessary, just the thought of sharing space with that many people makes me shudder. But Vinterberg does not take us where we think he will.
Against my expectations, I liked most of the characters. Unfortunately, one criticism I have of the movie is that it doesn't flesh out the secondary characters enough, which is a bit of a waste since all the actors are so good. The only character I disliked entirely was Erik. He's completely insufferable, a totally unselfaware jerk who feels put upon but doesn't realize his actions have gotten him where he is. There are a few things in the movie that made me wonder if Erik is supposed to be a stand in for the director, and for Vinterberg's sake, I sure hope not.
Although I thought Trine Dyrholm did a magnificent job as Anna, my very favourite characters were Ditte (Anne Gry Henningsen) and Steffen (Magnus Millang) and their son, Vilads (Sebastian Gronnegaard Milbrat). At first I feared they would be unbearably twee and annoying, but they quickly grew on me. Vilads is only six but has a heart condition, so he frequently announces that he will not live past nine. Instead of sealing him in a bubble, his parents let him live the life of a normal little boy and experience to the fullest the life he's been given.
I suppose that is what Vinterberg might be trying to get at. Life does not always go how you think it will. You can struggle and rail against it or you can try to live as fully as possible, awkward and painful as that may end up being. Life is messy and humans are imperfect, but generally capable of meaningful connection even in the face of conflict. It's not an original premise, but it's interesting to see what Vinterberg has done with it.
Saturday, November 05, 2016
movie review: Dark Horse
Dark Horse: The True Story of Dream Alliance
(UK, 2015)
director: Louise Osmond
I have a particular soft spot for British underdog movies. You know the ones I'm talking about: Billy Elliot, The Full Monty, Made in Dagenham. Those are fictional or at least fictionalized narrative films, but even though Dark Horse is a documentary, it bears remarkable resemblance to those other movies.
In 2000, a Welsh woman named Jan Vokes convinced 30 of her fellow villagers to form a syndicate and pool their money together to breed and raise a racehorse. As her husband notes, once Jan has put her mind to something, you can't stop her. And thus begins the story of Dream Alliance, the horse who came from dubious stock and was raised on an allotment, but went on to remarkable success.
The movie makes good use of Jan and her fellow owners' considerable charm. They are fully aware that the world of horse racing is generally reserved for the wealthy and the titled. Part of their pride comes from being working class and having stood up against the snobs--and proving themselves to be as good if not better. There are some very amusing interviews where the top class trainer the syndicate chose for Dream Alliance admits to his initial skepticism and patronizing thoughts about the horse's chances of ever running in a real race, never mind winning. His account of his change of heart is very touching and genuine.
That is actually a good way to describe this movie overall: touching and genuine. I thoroughly enjoyed it and had a smile on my face when I left the theatre. Definitely recommended.
Saturday, September 03, 2016
movie review: Mrs. B, a North Korean Woman
Mrs. B, a North Korean Woman
(France/South Korea, 2016)
directed by Jero Yun
This documentary is a fascinating glimpse into the world of escapees from North Korea. It follows the titular Mrs. B as she travels from China to South Korea to claim refugee status. She has left a husband and sons behind in North Korea, and her ultimate goal is to help them start a life in South Korea too.
However, there are a couple of complications: when she escaped over the border from North Korea to China, she was sold to a Chinese man, so she actually has two husbands, one North Korean, and one Chinese. The more surprising complication, however, is that she actually loves her Chinese husband and his family, and the feeling is reciprocal: they are justifiably worried about her as she embarks on the long and dangerous journey to South Korea from their tiny rural Chinese village. The day before she leaves, her mother in law insists on giving her money, saying it's to help her sons. Mrs. B gruffly teases her in-laws and tries to refuse the money, saying that they need it more.
Really, nothing is as black and white in this story as one might expect. When the film first opens, we see to our surprise that the trafficked has become the trafficker: full of hustle and enterprise, Mrs. B runs a healthy business herself, helping people escape from North Korea (for pay). Part of her success stems from her fluency in both Mandarin and Korean--a sign of how completely she has embraced her new life in China. The reality is, she's a strong-willed woman torn between two families. She feels guilty and despairing over having to choose between them.
The director, Jero Yun, has managed to get amazing footage of Mrs. B and her two families. Various family members speak surprisingly openly and touchingly about their ambivalence and conflicting emotions. The film isn't beautiful in a conventional way--it's grainy and grey and suitably bleak, but it is a unique window into a life we know little about here in the West. I would love to see a follow up so we could find out how Mrs. B's story turns out.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
movie review: Bernadette Lafont and God Created the Free Woman (original title: Bernadette Lafont et Dieu créa la femme libre)
(This review is part of a series, related to my professional development project of attending the 2016 Cannes Film Festival.)
Bernadette Lafont and God Created the Free Woman (original title: Bernadette Lafont et Dieu créa la femme libre)
(France, 2016)
directed by Esther Hoffenberg
I did not know who Bernadette Lafont was before watching this documentary. The main reasons we chose to attend this particular festival screening were because it fit with our schedule and there were still tickets available! However, within minutes I was very pleased with our serendipitous choice--it was wonderful to be introduced to this bold, intelligent, successful French actor and to learn about her role in France's feminist movement. As a bonus, two of Lafont's granddaughters were in attendance and spoke briefly and movingly about their late grandmother.
Lafont started out in French New Wave films with rising directors Francois Truffaut and Claude Chabrol--her 1957 debut was in Truffaut's first professional film, a short called "Les Mistons" ("The Mischief Makers"). Lafont, 18 at the time of filming, appeared with her then-husband Gerard Blain. Not long after, the two split up, partly because (as Lafont explained it), Blain could not cope with her rising career and desire for a life outside the home and in addition to her role as wife and mother.
Not only does the film take us on a tour of Lafont's film career; it also delves into her rich and complex personal life. In interviews with her granddaughters and her close friend, actor Bulle Ogier, we learn about Lafont's joys as well as her tragedies, such as the accidental death of her daughter (actor Pauline Lafont) at age 25.
Lafont was a real force to be reckoned with, both as an actor and a feminist. She chose films that embodied her views on women's rights and used her fame to create a space for women to maintain a conversation about equality and feminism. Up to her death in 2013, she was still acting in major roles to much critical and popular acclaim. In her final film, Paulette, she played the starring role as a cranky pensioner who becomes a drug dealer to make ends meet. Paulette shrewdly uses the social invisibility of elderly women to her advantage: she can fly under everyone's radar because society assumes she has no agency.
I would highly recommend this documentary to anyone interested in French film and/or the history of feminism in French culture.
Bernadette Lafont and God Created the Free Woman (original title: Bernadette Lafont et Dieu créa la femme libre)
(France, 2016)
directed by Esther Hoffenberg
I did not know who Bernadette Lafont was before watching this documentary. The main reasons we chose to attend this particular festival screening were because it fit with our schedule and there were still tickets available! However, within minutes I was very pleased with our serendipitous choice--it was wonderful to be introduced to this bold, intelligent, successful French actor and to learn about her role in France's feminist movement. As a bonus, two of Lafont's granddaughters were in attendance and spoke briefly and movingly about their late grandmother.
Lafont started out in French New Wave films with rising directors Francois Truffaut and Claude Chabrol--her 1957 debut was in Truffaut's first professional film, a short called "Les Mistons" ("The Mischief Makers"). Lafont, 18 at the time of filming, appeared with her then-husband Gerard Blain. Not long after, the two split up, partly because (as Lafont explained it), Blain could not cope with her rising career and desire for a life outside the home and in addition to her role as wife and mother.
Not only does the film take us on a tour of Lafont's film career; it also delves into her rich and complex personal life. In interviews with her granddaughters and her close friend, actor Bulle Ogier, we learn about Lafont's joys as well as her tragedies, such as the accidental death of her daughter (actor Pauline Lafont) at age 25.
Lafont was a real force to be reckoned with, both as an actor and a feminist. She chose films that embodied her views on women's rights and used her fame to create a space for women to maintain a conversation about equality and feminism. Up to her death in 2013, she was still acting in major roles to much critical and popular acclaim. In her final film, Paulette, she played the starring role as a cranky pensioner who becomes a drug dealer to make ends meet. Paulette shrewdly uses the social invisibility of elderly women to her advantage: she can fly under everyone's radar because society assumes she has no agency.
I would highly recommend this documentary to anyone interested in French film and/or the history of feminism in French culture.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
movie review: Peshmerga
Peshmerga
France, 2016
Dir. Bernard-Henri Lévy
Peshmerga's documentary team, led by French philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy, follows a group of Kurdish military as they battle Daesh (aka ISIS) in Iraq. It's probably safe to say most Westerners don't know much about these smart, tough men and women, and that's a shame, because they are fascinating and admirable.
The film is tense, as you'd expect from a war documentary. It's clear the film crew doesn't know what will happen next as they travel with the soldiers from one beleaguered village to the next, and this uncertainty adds sometimes unbearable tension to the scenes. At certain points, Lévy's voiceover tells us exactly what happens after the scene ends, and although we are spared seeing the carnage, it packs an emotional wallop because we have just spent a considerable amount of time getting to know the newly deceased or injured.
Some of the most interesting scenes centre around women: we meet Helly Luv, who was among those present at the premiere I attended and was introduced to the audience as "the Kurdish [pop star] Madonna." Luv is an outspoken advocate for her people, not afraid to show up and raise morale in the war zone. We also meet a group of female soldiers who are treated as equals to their male counterparts. According to Lévy, these women strike terror in the hearts of the Islamic militants they are fighting, because to be killed by a woman means the ultimate shame and no glory in the afterlife.
Peshmerga is an excellent glimpse into this little known world. Highly recommended.
France, 2016
Dir. Bernard-Henri Lévy
Peshmerga's documentary team, led by French philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy, follows a group of Kurdish military as they battle Daesh (aka ISIS) in Iraq. It's probably safe to say most Westerners don't know much about these smart, tough men and women, and that's a shame, because they are fascinating and admirable.
The film is tense, as you'd expect from a war documentary. It's clear the film crew doesn't know what will happen next as they travel with the soldiers from one beleaguered village to the next, and this uncertainty adds sometimes unbearable tension to the scenes. At certain points, Lévy's voiceover tells us exactly what happens after the scene ends, and although we are spared seeing the carnage, it packs an emotional wallop because we have just spent a considerable amount of time getting to know the newly deceased or injured.
Some of the most interesting scenes centre around women: we meet Helly Luv, who was among those present at the premiere I attended and was introduced to the audience as "the Kurdish [pop star] Madonna." Luv is an outspoken advocate for her people, not afraid to show up and raise morale in the war zone. We also meet a group of female soldiers who are treated as equals to their male counterparts. According to Lévy, these women strike terror in the hearts of the Islamic militants they are fighting, because to be killed by a woman means the ultimate shame and no glory in the afterlife.
Peshmerga is an excellent glimpse into this little known world. Highly recommended.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
movie review: Blood Father
Blood Father
France, 2016
Directed by Jean-François Richet
I can't say I had high hopes when I found out the final movie at Cannes would be Blood Father, starring Mel Gibson as an ex-convict trying to save his daughter (Erin Moriarty) from drug dealers who want to kill her. First of all, I'm not a Mel Gibson fan (though I have enjoyed his earlier movies like Lethal Weapon), and secondly, the story sounded cheesy and tired.
Maybe it was because of my low expectations, but I found to my surprise that the movie was pleasantly entertaining. Mel Gibson turned in a performance worthy of his pre-nutball self--he and Moriarty had lovely chemistry as a father and daughter. The other supporting actors like William H. Macy and Diego Luna were also very good. The dialogue was funny and quick, the action sequences were nicely filmed, and the plot clipped along briskly without lagging.
The story, based on a novel by Peter Craig, is nothing particularly original, but it is logical and well plotted. In a sea of action movies that insist on weirdly intricate plots, its simplicity was actually refreshing. I was thankful that the straightforward plot allowed the focus to remain on the characters' relationship; most of the screen time is taken up by Moriarty and Gibson, and they are a genuine pleasure to watch.
With Blood Father, Mel Gibson seems to have taken a step back from the abyss of Hollywood purgatory he's (deservedly) been in for a few years. If he can keep turning in good work in roles like this one, Hollywood and the viewing public may forgive him yet.
France, 2016
Directed by Jean-François Richet
I can't say I had high hopes when I found out the final movie at Cannes would be Blood Father, starring Mel Gibson as an ex-convict trying to save his daughter (Erin Moriarty) from drug dealers who want to kill her. First of all, I'm not a Mel Gibson fan (though I have enjoyed his earlier movies like Lethal Weapon), and secondly, the story sounded cheesy and tired.
Maybe it was because of my low expectations, but I found to my surprise that the movie was pleasantly entertaining. Mel Gibson turned in a performance worthy of his pre-nutball self--he and Moriarty had lovely chemistry as a father and daughter. The other supporting actors like William H. Macy and Diego Luna were also very good. The dialogue was funny and quick, the action sequences were nicely filmed, and the plot clipped along briskly without lagging.
The story, based on a novel by Peter Craig, is nothing particularly original, but it is logical and well plotted. In a sea of action movies that insist on weirdly intricate plots, its simplicity was actually refreshing. I was thankful that the straightforward plot allowed the focus to remain on the characters' relationship; most of the screen time is taken up by Moriarty and Gibson, and they are a genuine pleasure to watch.
With Blood Father, Mel Gibson seems to have taken a step back from the abyss of Hollywood purgatory he's (deservedly) been in for a few years. If he can keep turning in good work in roles like this one, Hollywood and the viewing public may forgive him yet.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
movie review: Fool Moon (original title: Forêt des Quinconces)
Fool Moon (original title: Forêt des Quinconces)
(France, 2016)
Dir. Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet
When the movie begins, it has the appearance of being a lighthearted romantic comedy, but Fool Moon (Forêt des Quinconces) is nothing of the sort. Yes, Paul (Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet) is in love with his girlfriend Ondine (Amandine Truffy), and is understandably broken-hearted when she dumps him. Yes, he goes on a sad sack bender and has to be rescued from a Paris sidewalk by his brother-in-law the next morning. Yes, Paul vows to win Ondine back. However, it's at this point that the movie takes a sharp departure from rom-com territory.
Wandering around broken-hearted, Paul trips over the coin box of a homeless man (Thierry Hancisse) living in a Paris underpass. As he apologizes and picks up the man's money, he is drawn into a conversation in which it is revealed that the homeless man is actually Chance, or Fate.
It's at this point that audiences might realize the (original French) dialogue is in rhyming meter. As the film progresses, we see more Shakespearean elements and it becomes clear this is a project designed to push the boundaries of what the typical film audience is used to. It is fun to see Shakespearean melodrama clothed in 21st century garb and a modern Parisian setting, with clubs, cafes and the Metro.
It's not a perfect movie; the film is still a bit rough around the edges in terms of writing and story structure. Occasionally it seems that Leprince-Ringuet sacrifices substance in service of style. The film treads dangerously close to preciousness at times, which gets tiresome. Also, even if we accept the conceit that Paul, Ondine and Paul's new mysterious lover Camille (Pauline Caupenne) are not meant to be realistic but rather to fulfill 'types' in a Shakespearean tragicomedy, we expect at least a little bit of logic in the narrative.
However, it's an admirably ambitious project and a nice change of pace from a typical romantic comedy-drama. The dialogue, when it works, is very good, and the actors inhabit their characters well. The scene with the dance troupe is particularly outstanding in its music choice and choreography.
This movie is not for everyone, but for those who like something unexpected and are okay with theatricality, it's an enjoyable experiment. I imagine Leprince-Ringuet will only get better with each subsequent film, since he already shows clear talent, even if there is room for improvement.
(France, 2016)
Dir. Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet
When the movie begins, it has the appearance of being a lighthearted romantic comedy, but Fool Moon (Forêt des Quinconces) is nothing of the sort. Yes, Paul (Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet) is in love with his girlfriend Ondine (Amandine Truffy), and is understandably broken-hearted when she dumps him. Yes, he goes on a sad sack bender and has to be rescued from a Paris sidewalk by his brother-in-law the next morning. Yes, Paul vows to win Ondine back. However, it's at this point that the movie takes a sharp departure from rom-com territory.
Wandering around broken-hearted, Paul trips over the coin box of a homeless man (Thierry Hancisse) living in a Paris underpass. As he apologizes and picks up the man's money, he is drawn into a conversation in which it is revealed that the homeless man is actually Chance, or Fate.
It's at this point that audiences might realize the (original French) dialogue is in rhyming meter. As the film progresses, we see more Shakespearean elements and it becomes clear this is a project designed to push the boundaries of what the typical film audience is used to. It is fun to see Shakespearean melodrama clothed in 21st century garb and a modern Parisian setting, with clubs, cafes and the Metro.
It's not a perfect movie; the film is still a bit rough around the edges in terms of writing and story structure. Occasionally it seems that Leprince-Ringuet sacrifices substance in service of style. The film treads dangerously close to preciousness at times, which gets tiresome. Also, even if we accept the conceit that Paul, Ondine and Paul's new mysterious lover Camille (Pauline Caupenne) are not meant to be realistic but rather to fulfill 'types' in a Shakespearean tragicomedy, we expect at least a little bit of logic in the narrative.
However, it's an admirably ambitious project and a nice change of pace from a typical romantic comedy-drama. The dialogue, when it works, is very good, and the actors inhabit their characters well. The scene with the dance troupe is particularly outstanding in its music choice and choreography.
This movie is not for everyone, but for those who like something unexpected and are okay with theatricality, it's an enjoyable experiment. I imagine Leprince-Ringuet will only get better with each subsequent film, since he already shows clear talent, even if there is room for improvement.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
movie review: Happy Times Will Come Soon (original title: I tempi felici verranno presto)
Happy Times Will Come Soon
I tempi felici verranno presto (original title)
(Italy/France, 2016)
Dir. Alessandro Comodin
It's hard to say what this movie is about, because it's deliberately ambiguous. Director Alessandro Comodin explores the idea of local legends and their basis in real life events, but we are never sure if what we are seeing is the legend or the truth.
The movie is divided into distinct segments that tell separate stories with overlapping elements: young men on the run from...something; a sheltering but ominous forest; a wolf that hunts humans; mysterious caves and pools of water; hunters and prey; young women who disappear and reappear.
The film plays with timelines in a way that is deliberately confusing. It's hard to know the order of events, or the nature of the relationships between characters. Some segments are very naturalistic (there is one bit in the middle that suddenly shifts from narrative film to pseudo documentary interviews with local villagers about a wolf in the forest that may have abducted a young woman), while others seem dreamlike. The viewer is left with more questions than answers.
The forest is beautifully filmed, and the actors are very good. However, I was disappointed overall. I think the director deliberately aimed for (and achieved) ambiguity and incoherence, but it did not seem to serve a discernible purpose, and as a result was quite alienating. I'd only recommend this film for people who love inexplicable art house cinema and are not bothered in the least by not knowing what the hell is going on a lot of the time.
This film does get some bonus points, however, for featuring the most adorable donkey I've ever seen.
I tempi felici verranno presto (original title)
(Italy/France, 2016)
Dir. Alessandro Comodin
It's hard to say what this movie is about, because it's deliberately ambiguous. Director Alessandro Comodin explores the idea of local legends and their basis in real life events, but we are never sure if what we are seeing is the legend or the truth.
The movie is divided into distinct segments that tell separate stories with overlapping elements: young men on the run from...something; a sheltering but ominous forest; a wolf that hunts humans; mysterious caves and pools of water; hunters and prey; young women who disappear and reappear.
The film plays with timelines in a way that is deliberately confusing. It's hard to know the order of events, or the nature of the relationships between characters. Some segments are very naturalistic (there is one bit in the middle that suddenly shifts from narrative film to pseudo documentary interviews with local villagers about a wolf in the forest that may have abducted a young woman), while others seem dreamlike. The viewer is left with more questions than answers.
The forest is beautifully filmed, and the actors are very good. However, I was disappointed overall. I think the director deliberately aimed for (and achieved) ambiguity and incoherence, but it did not seem to serve a discernible purpose, and as a result was quite alienating. I'd only recommend this film for people who love inexplicable art house cinema and are not bothered in the least by not knowing what the hell is going on a lot of the time.
This film does get some bonus points, however, for featuring the most adorable donkey I've ever seen.
Monday, February 08, 2016
movie review: Hungry Hearts
Hungry Hearts
(Italy, 2014)
directed by Saverio Costanzo
based on the novel Il Bambino Indaco (The Indigo Child) by Marco Franzoso
The opening scene of Hungry Hearts is charming and funny: two strangers, Jude (Adam Driver) and Mina (Alba Rohrwacher), get stuck together in a horrible restaurant bathroom when the door won't open. Driver (who played Lena Dunham's boyfriend in Girls) and Rohrwacher make it work. They seem sweet and believable as a potential couple, so when the next scene shows the romantic aftermath of this coincidental meeting, we are not surprised.
In typical movie fashion--i.e., quickly enough to make one's head spin--Jude and Mina become a family, with a baby on the way. There is a happy wedding scene at Coney Island, with lots of dancing and singing. We meet Jude's mother (Roberta Maxwell), who urges Mina to consider her as family, since Mina is from Italy and does not have anyone in New York.
However, after this the tone veers sharply away from simple romantic drama. It turns out that Mina has developed an obsession with dreams, signs, and omens, along with disordered eating patterns and a deep distrust of doctors. This makes for a difficult pregnancy and childbirth, and soon after their son is born, she and Jude are at odds about how to care for him.
I will not spoil any of the rest of the film. Suffice it to say that Hungry Hearts becomes as tense and suspenseful as any thoughtful horror movie. I can honestly say I had no idea how the film would end, but afterward, I felt it ended the only way it possibly could. It is easy to think the film is about Mina and her obsessions with the medical establishment (I started out thinking, "I bet she doesn't believe in vaccinations" and ended up thinking, "I wish she were a run of the mill anti-vaxxer"), but really it is about Jude. He is an excellent example of the frog sitting in a pot, the water slowly heating up until it is almost too late to jump out.
Hungry Hearts is not a perfect movie; it is a bit too long and drags a little bit. In some ways this draggy feeling works, because it allows the audience to feel the drawn-out dread that Jude and his mother feel as the days tick by. That said, although it doesn't ruin the film, a nearly two-hour running time is excessive. This is a tiny flaw, though, in the grand scheme of things, because the cinematography, acting, and writing are all outstanding.
Hungry Hearts is currently available to stream on Netflix Canada.
(Italy, 2014)
directed by Saverio Costanzo
based on the novel Il Bambino Indaco (The Indigo Child) by Marco Franzoso
The opening scene of Hungry Hearts is charming and funny: two strangers, Jude (Adam Driver) and Mina (Alba Rohrwacher), get stuck together in a horrible restaurant bathroom when the door won't open. Driver (who played Lena Dunham's boyfriend in Girls) and Rohrwacher make it work. They seem sweet and believable as a potential couple, so when the next scene shows the romantic aftermath of this coincidental meeting, we are not surprised.
In typical movie fashion--i.e., quickly enough to make one's head spin--Jude and Mina become a family, with a baby on the way. There is a happy wedding scene at Coney Island, with lots of dancing and singing. We meet Jude's mother (Roberta Maxwell), who urges Mina to consider her as family, since Mina is from Italy and does not have anyone in New York.
However, after this the tone veers sharply away from simple romantic drama. It turns out that Mina has developed an obsession with dreams, signs, and omens, along with disordered eating patterns and a deep distrust of doctors. This makes for a difficult pregnancy and childbirth, and soon after their son is born, she and Jude are at odds about how to care for him.
I will not spoil any of the rest of the film. Suffice it to say that Hungry Hearts becomes as tense and suspenseful as any thoughtful horror movie. I can honestly say I had no idea how the film would end, but afterward, I felt it ended the only way it possibly could. It is easy to think the film is about Mina and her obsessions with the medical establishment (I started out thinking, "I bet she doesn't believe in vaccinations" and ended up thinking, "I wish she were a run of the mill anti-vaxxer"), but really it is about Jude. He is an excellent example of the frog sitting in a pot, the water slowly heating up until it is almost too late to jump out.
Hungry Hearts is not a perfect movie; it is a bit too long and drags a little bit. In some ways this draggy feeling works, because it allows the audience to feel the drawn-out dread that Jude and his mother feel as the days tick by. That said, although it doesn't ruin the film, a nearly two-hour running time is excessive. This is a tiny flaw, though, in the grand scheme of things, because the cinematography, acting, and writing are all outstanding.
Hungry Hearts is currently available to stream on Netflix Canada.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
movie review: Theeb
Theeb
(United Arab Emirates/Qatar/Jordan/UK, 2014)
directed by Naji Abu Nowar
written by Naji Abu Nowar and Bassel Ghandour
In 1916, there were Bedouin tribes living in the Ottoman Empire who were so unconnected to the outside world that they had no idea World War I raged nearby. Theeb tells the story of one such fictional tribe and the results of contact with World War I through a British officer who needs a Bedouin guide.
Theeb (Jacir Eid Al-Hweitat) is a young boy, son of a late sheikh, who lives a sheltered life with his older brothers in the desert of Hijaz, in what is now Saudi Arabia. He is young and innocent, but also clever and observant. So when a British officer in search of a Bedouin guide (Jack Fox) is brought to their camp by an interpreter, Theeb is entranced with the visitor. He watches him shave, asking in Arabic, "Are you a prince?" He attempts to find out what is in the mysterious wooden box that the officer protects so fiercely.
When his brother Hussein (Hussein Salameh Al-Sweilhiyeen) agrees to act as guide, Theeb sets off after them, following at a distance and only revealing himself when it is too late for them to send him back. Thus the little boy gets his wish, to have an adventure--and maybe find out what is in the wooden box.
But the deserts of the Ottoman Empire are not a safe place in 1916. There are raiders and revolutionaries, and they are merciless. The journey to the officer's destination is tense and risky and soon everything goes sideways. At one point, Theeb is forced to rely on an unpleasant mercenary (Hassan Mutlag Al-Maraiyeh). Can he trust this stranger?
Most of the actors in this movie are amateurs who had never acted on film before. They do an excellent job, particularly Jacir Eid Al-Hweitat. He has a mobile, appealing face, and he does a great job of portraying the resourceful, tenacious main character. The Stranger is similarly tenacious, but far less sympathetic. The desert provides a beautiful but forbidding setting, with vast stretches of sand and deep canyons of stone. One is never sure who will survive in that setting. It is worth watching the movie to find out.
(United Arab Emirates/Qatar/Jordan/UK, 2014)
directed by Naji Abu Nowar
written by Naji Abu Nowar and Bassel Ghandour
In 1916, there were Bedouin tribes living in the Ottoman Empire who were so unconnected to the outside world that they had no idea World War I raged nearby. Theeb tells the story of one such fictional tribe and the results of contact with World War I through a British officer who needs a Bedouin guide.
Theeb (Jacir Eid Al-Hweitat) is a young boy, son of a late sheikh, who lives a sheltered life with his older brothers in the desert of Hijaz, in what is now Saudi Arabia. He is young and innocent, but also clever and observant. So when a British officer in search of a Bedouin guide (Jack Fox) is brought to their camp by an interpreter, Theeb is entranced with the visitor. He watches him shave, asking in Arabic, "Are you a prince?" He attempts to find out what is in the mysterious wooden box that the officer protects so fiercely.
When his brother Hussein (Hussein Salameh Al-Sweilhiyeen) agrees to act as guide, Theeb sets off after them, following at a distance and only revealing himself when it is too late for them to send him back. Thus the little boy gets his wish, to have an adventure--and maybe find out what is in the wooden box.
But the deserts of the Ottoman Empire are not a safe place in 1916. There are raiders and revolutionaries, and they are merciless. The journey to the officer's destination is tense and risky and soon everything goes sideways. At one point, Theeb is forced to rely on an unpleasant mercenary (Hassan Mutlag Al-Maraiyeh). Can he trust this stranger?
Most of the actors in this movie are amateurs who had never acted on film before. They do an excellent job, particularly Jacir Eid Al-Hweitat. He has a mobile, appealing face, and he does a great job of portraying the resourceful, tenacious main character. The Stranger is similarly tenacious, but far less sympathetic. The desert provides a beautiful but forbidding setting, with vast stretches of sand and deep canyons of stone. One is never sure who will survive in that setting. It is worth watching the movie to find out.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
movie review: Mad Max: Fury Road
Mad Max
(USA, 2015)
directed by George Miller
We saw this with friends who had already seen it in the theatre but were willing--actually, eager!--to see it again. After the movie was over, I could understand why.
I can think of only one other movie experience that left me with such a feeling of exhilaration, and that was Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof. When I left the theatre after Death Proof, I felt like someone had pumped me full of adrenaline; I felt the exact same way after Mad Max: Fury Road. The two films actually have a fair amount in common: 1) they're both centred around fast, loud, powerful vehicles, and 2) the main characters are all smart, strong women trying to survive pursuit by a violent man.
In Fury Road, the leader of the group is Furiosa (Charlize Theron), who has facilitated the escape of a group of sex slaves, "The Wives," from their captor, Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Joe is the violent, power-hungry ruler of the Citadel, a brutal, ghastly city-state in the film's post-apocalyptic society. The job of the sex slaves is to produce heirs for Joe, and future warrior-leaders for his army.
We are introduced to this world through the eyes of Mad Max (Tom Hardy), who is captured despite his most valiant efforts and held prisoner to do duty as a living blood bank for Joe's army of Warboys. The movie's visuals are mesmerizing throughout, but they are especially compelling in the beginning. The desert Max comes from is bleak, and the world he is taken to is violent and ugly. In the opening scenes, the camera often jolts and shudders; the film is frequently sped up and choppy. Despite how it sounds, this effect is never used gratuitously, but rather to highlight Max's panicked mental state.
Fortunately for Max, being a mobile blood bank is only the beginning of his journey. Essentially, Fury Road is a quest narrative. It has all the elements:
1. a protagonist
2. a journey
3. group of loyal helpers
4. desired object (in this case, a place)
5. obstacles along the way
6. final battle
7. achievement of goal
The interesting thing about Fury Road is that it starts out by making the audience think the protagonist is Max, but really, the protagonist is Furiosa. After he is rescued by Furiosa, Max transitions seamlessly from the focus of our attention to the periphery; he goes from protagonist to helper.
Fury Road passes the Bechdel Test beautifully and features multiple strong female characters who exhibit plenty of agency. It's well-filmed, well-paced, and over the top in a really enjoyable way. It is the most unabashedly feminist action movie I've seen for quite some time, and what I particularly liked about it was that the female representation was not just limited to ONE strong woman character. This is a problem with many, many movies that want to make the claim for being feminist. It's just not enough to have ONE woman in a film, no matter how strong she is, if she rarely or never interacts in a meaningful way with other women. In Fury Road, we not only have Theron's fantastic Furiosa; we have many, many strong and intelligent female characters determined to take back their destiny and create a better world for themselves and their progeny.
Both Max and Furiosa are perfectly cast. Hardy and Theron embody their characters with strength and determination; the characters clearly respect each other. Also, spoiler alert, I really appreciated there was no stupid romantic storyline between them. I imagine it'll be a long time before that happens in an action movie again. The supporting actors are also excellent: Nicholas Hoult is very good as Nux, a fearless Warboy who ends up being less brainless than it seems at first glance. The group of women escaping from Joe are also given agency, and despite the movie's generally limited dialogue, each is given an individual personality. The other characters met along the journey (I don't want to give too much away) are also strongly and memorably drawn in the movie's efficient shorthand.
I totally recommend Mad Max: Fury Road if you are looking for an action movie with some brain and a lot of brawn. Because fear not--even though there's some thinkiness and social commentary in here, there are also a lot of satisfying explosions and car crashes!
(USA, 2015)
directed by George Miller
We saw this with friends who had already seen it in the theatre but were willing--actually, eager!--to see it again. After the movie was over, I could understand why.
I can think of only one other movie experience that left me with such a feeling of exhilaration, and that was Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof. When I left the theatre after Death Proof, I felt like someone had pumped me full of adrenaline; I felt the exact same way after Mad Max: Fury Road. The two films actually have a fair amount in common: 1) they're both centred around fast, loud, powerful vehicles, and 2) the main characters are all smart, strong women trying to survive pursuit by a violent man.
In Fury Road, the leader of the group is Furiosa (Charlize Theron), who has facilitated the escape of a group of sex slaves, "The Wives," from their captor, Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Joe is the violent, power-hungry ruler of the Citadel, a brutal, ghastly city-state in the film's post-apocalyptic society. The job of the sex slaves is to produce heirs for Joe, and future warrior-leaders for his army.
We are introduced to this world through the eyes of Mad Max (Tom Hardy), who is captured despite his most valiant efforts and held prisoner to do duty as a living blood bank for Joe's army of Warboys. The movie's visuals are mesmerizing throughout, but they are especially compelling in the beginning. The desert Max comes from is bleak, and the world he is taken to is violent and ugly. In the opening scenes, the camera often jolts and shudders; the film is frequently sped up and choppy. Despite how it sounds, this effect is never used gratuitously, but rather to highlight Max's panicked mental state.
Fortunately for Max, being a mobile blood bank is only the beginning of his journey. Essentially, Fury Road is a quest narrative. It has all the elements:
1. a protagonist
2. a journey
3. group of loyal helpers
4. desired object (in this case, a place)
5. obstacles along the way
6. final battle
7. achievement of goal
The interesting thing about Fury Road is that it starts out by making the audience think the protagonist is Max, but really, the protagonist is Furiosa. After he is rescued by Furiosa, Max transitions seamlessly from the focus of our attention to the periphery; he goes from protagonist to helper.
Fury Road passes the Bechdel Test beautifully and features multiple strong female characters who exhibit plenty of agency. It's well-filmed, well-paced, and over the top in a really enjoyable way. It is the most unabashedly feminist action movie I've seen for quite some time, and what I particularly liked about it was that the female representation was not just limited to ONE strong woman character. This is a problem with many, many movies that want to make the claim for being feminist. It's just not enough to have ONE woman in a film, no matter how strong she is, if she rarely or never interacts in a meaningful way with other women. In Fury Road, we not only have Theron's fantastic Furiosa; we have many, many strong and intelligent female characters determined to take back their destiny and create a better world for themselves and their progeny.
Both Max and Furiosa are perfectly cast. Hardy and Theron embody their characters with strength and determination; the characters clearly respect each other. Also, spoiler alert, I really appreciated there was no stupid romantic storyline between them. I imagine it'll be a long time before that happens in an action movie again. The supporting actors are also excellent: Nicholas Hoult is very good as Nux, a fearless Warboy who ends up being less brainless than it seems at first glance. The group of women escaping from Joe are also given agency, and despite the movie's generally limited dialogue, each is given an individual personality. The other characters met along the journey (I don't want to give too much away) are also strongly and memorably drawn in the movie's efficient shorthand.
I totally recommend Mad Max: Fury Road if you are looking for an action movie with some brain and a lot of brawn. Because fear not--even though there's some thinkiness and social commentary in here, there are also a lot of satisfying explosions and car crashes!
Saturday, May 09, 2015
movie review: Line in the Sand
Line in the Sand
(Canada, 2015)
directors: Tomas Borsa and Jean-Philippe Marquis
Line in the Sand is a feature-length documentary about the how communities in northern British Columbia and Alberta have responded to the proposed Enbridge Northern Gateway pipeline. The proposed pipeline would traverse the northern part of British Columbia and part of Alberta, carrying diluted bitumen (dilbit), a toxic, tarry substance, across pristine wilderness to tankers just off the coast of BC, near Prince Rupert.
The pipeline has been controversial for many reasons, including concern about its safety, its possible effect on the environment, and the way it would cross traditional First Nations territory. Borsa and Marquis interviewed ordinary people from communities along the proposed route to ask how they feel about it and why. (You can check out their "Line in the Sand" blog here.)
They start out in Alberta, where they talk to farmers who have entered into agreements to let pipelines cross their land. These farmers have discovered the hard way that the pipeline companies have a great deal of unexpected control over the land once they are on it: for example, they have sued farmers for "trespassing" on their own land. These are the same companies who pay a lump sum, trash the land and render it unusable, then leave a huge mess for the farmers to take care of. The toxicity of what the pipelines transport have left animals dead and with birth defects. However, the companies have no legal obligation to rehabilitate the land, find less toxic ways to do business, or compensate the farmers. Do they have an ethical obligation? The farmers think so.
Borsa and Marquis are personable (they were at the screening I attended in Prince George at the College of New Caledonia, and gave a Q and A for the audience afterwards) and it shows in the natural, expressive interviews they managed to get with regular folks along the proposed pipeline. In the film, one person after another speaks candidly and with passion about what their community and the landscape mean to them. We see beautiful shots of northern British Columbia that help someone who has never been here understand what is at stake. We hear from researchers and scientists who describe the potential risks of the pipeline and the repercussions if there is a spill. There are a few people who speak in favour of the pipeline, but they are outnumbered by those who are against it. (The filmmakers were asked at the screening I attended whether they had sought out people who were in support of the pipeline and they said they had, but the number of people who are in favour of the pipeline in the film is representative of the number of people they found who were willing to do so.)
There is much blunt talk about Enbridge's incredibly poor track record regarding pipeline integrity and spill response. Some of the most arresting footage is from a man who worked on the Kalamazoo spill cleanup--Enbridge fired him after they discovered he had secretly filmed cleanup workers being directed by Enbridge to simply cover up spilled oil with a layer of sand.
The filmmakers interview many First Nations people about land rights, self-governance, and the uncomfortable relationship between large and powerful companies and small, economically depressed First Nations communities.We see large protests against the Northern Gateway and smaller acts of defiance--one series of shots shows a number of colourful handpainted signs in one First Nations community on the pipeline's proposed path.
To me, the main theme of this film is larger than just the Enbridge Northern Gateway project. The filmmakers wisely show us not only the actions of Enbridge to coerce and bully communities into accepting the pipeline--they also dig deep into the federal government's attempts to paint any opposition to the pipeline and similar projects as anti-Canadian, anti-patriotic, and, most frighteningly, as "radical eco-terrorism."
Watching Joe Oliver denounce those who speak out against the pipeline--and watching the charade that was the Joint Review Panel "consultation" process--simply highlights the need for the Canadian public to educate themselves not only about the potential effects of the Northern Gateway project but also the effects of a federal government bent on stifling opposition with swift brutality and little regard for the democratic process.
Overall, this is an excellent documentary. The cinematography is gorgeous, the issues outlined clearly, and the filmmakers wisely let the residents of northern Alberta and northern BC speak for themselves about why they have chosen to draw this particular line in the sand.
(Canada, 2015)
directors: Tomas Borsa and Jean-Philippe Marquis
Line in the Sand is a feature-length documentary about the how communities in northern British Columbia and Alberta have responded to the proposed Enbridge Northern Gateway pipeline. The proposed pipeline would traverse the northern part of British Columbia and part of Alberta, carrying diluted bitumen (dilbit), a toxic, tarry substance, across pristine wilderness to tankers just off the coast of BC, near Prince Rupert.
The pipeline has been controversial for many reasons, including concern about its safety, its possible effect on the environment, and the way it would cross traditional First Nations territory. Borsa and Marquis interviewed ordinary people from communities along the proposed route to ask how they feel about it and why. (You can check out their "Line in the Sand" blog here.)
They start out in Alberta, where they talk to farmers who have entered into agreements to let pipelines cross their land. These farmers have discovered the hard way that the pipeline companies have a great deal of unexpected control over the land once they are on it: for example, they have sued farmers for "trespassing" on their own land. These are the same companies who pay a lump sum, trash the land and render it unusable, then leave a huge mess for the farmers to take care of. The toxicity of what the pipelines transport have left animals dead and with birth defects. However, the companies have no legal obligation to rehabilitate the land, find less toxic ways to do business, or compensate the farmers. Do they have an ethical obligation? The farmers think so.
Borsa and Marquis are personable (they were at the screening I attended in Prince George at the College of New Caledonia, and gave a Q and A for the audience afterwards) and it shows in the natural, expressive interviews they managed to get with regular folks along the proposed pipeline. In the film, one person after another speaks candidly and with passion about what their community and the landscape mean to them. We see beautiful shots of northern British Columbia that help someone who has never been here understand what is at stake. We hear from researchers and scientists who describe the potential risks of the pipeline and the repercussions if there is a spill. There are a few people who speak in favour of the pipeline, but they are outnumbered by those who are against it. (The filmmakers were asked at the screening I attended whether they had sought out people who were in support of the pipeline and they said they had, but the number of people who are in favour of the pipeline in the film is representative of the number of people they found who were willing to do so.)
There is much blunt talk about Enbridge's incredibly poor track record regarding pipeline integrity and spill response. Some of the most arresting footage is from a man who worked on the Kalamazoo spill cleanup--Enbridge fired him after they discovered he had secretly filmed cleanup workers being directed by Enbridge to simply cover up spilled oil with a layer of sand.
The filmmakers interview many First Nations people about land rights, self-governance, and the uncomfortable relationship between large and powerful companies and small, economically depressed First Nations communities.We see large protests against the Northern Gateway and smaller acts of defiance--one series of shots shows a number of colourful handpainted signs in one First Nations community on the pipeline's proposed path.
To me, the main theme of this film is larger than just the Enbridge Northern Gateway project. The filmmakers wisely show us not only the actions of Enbridge to coerce and bully communities into accepting the pipeline--they also dig deep into the federal government's attempts to paint any opposition to the pipeline and similar projects as anti-Canadian, anti-patriotic, and, most frighteningly, as "radical eco-terrorism."
Watching Joe Oliver denounce those who speak out against the pipeline--and watching the charade that was the Joint Review Panel "consultation" process--simply highlights the need for the Canadian public to educate themselves not only about the potential effects of the Northern Gateway project but also the effects of a federal government bent on stifling opposition with swift brutality and little regard for the democratic process.
Overall, this is an excellent documentary. The cinematography is gorgeous, the issues outlined clearly, and the filmmakers wisely let the residents of northern Alberta and northern BC speak for themselves about why they have chosen to draw this particular line in the sand.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
movie review: Phoenix
Phoenix
(Germany, 2014)
director: Christian Petzold
In Phoenix, Nelly (Nina Hoss), a Jewish jazz singer, manages to escape Auschwitz with a horrible gunshot wound to her face. A plastic surgeon is enlisted, and soon Nelly is recovering with a face that is almost, but not quite, her own. After her terrible experiences in the concentration camp, she is desperate to find her loved ones, but most were killed by the Nazis. However, she is certain that her piano-playing husband Johnny (Ronald Zehrfield) is still alive, and she is determined to find him.
Nelly's friend Lene (Nina Kunzendorf), who works at the department of Jewish records, holds secret knowledge about Nelly's husband Johnny. Lene has taken up the role of Nelly's rescuer and is making plans for the two of them to go to Palestine, which will soon be made into a Jewish homeland, a place Lene imagines will be free from anti-Jewish sentiment, free of Nazis, and far enough away fro the Germany of World War II that they will one day be able to bear listening to German songs again. Lene quivers with pride, passion, and barely sublimated desire when speaking to Nelly about the life they will live together there, free from the chaos and hatred of the war. The character is onscreen for a relatively short period of time, yet Kunzendorf manages to convey Lene's inner turmoil beautifully.
However, Nelly still longs to find Johnny, whom she loves and misses dearly; her desperate quest to find him takes her along the dangerous streets in night-time Berlin that are populated with American GIs, street corner musicians, and violent criminals. As Lene watches in helpless anguish, Nelly tracks Johnny down to a nightclub named "Phoenix."
As the nightclub's name implies, Phoenix is both a literal and metaphorical story of transformation. (The metaphorical flavour of the movie helps make Nelly's surprisingly normal post-operative appearance easier to accept.) Post-WWII Germany is portrayed as a society in transition--it is a country still uncertain of how to make reparations for the unrepairable. Can anything ever make up for Nazi crimes against humanity? What do we do about the everyday people who sold out their friends and loved ones to save their own skins? What should Holocaust survivors be given? And importantly, what is it that they need?
Hoss is entirely believable as a woman slowly re-emerging from suspended animation. While she was in the concentration camp, she did not know what was happening to Berlin. Her reactions to the rubble and ruin in the city are poignant. Just as she is rediscovering herself with her own new face, she is also rediscovering her old city with its new face.
Zehrfield has, in some ways, a more challenging role. In some ways he is an enigma; we don't really know what drives him, though we can speculate. We as the audience see him simultaneously through two lenses: we are privy to Lene's knowledge, so we know the truth about him, but because we also see him as Nelly sees him--her true love--his character lends itself to a slightly more complex reading.
The movie's pacing is perfect. It never moves too slowly or too quickly; it maintains tension and keeps the viewer wanting to find out what happens next. But at the same time, it never seems rushed. As events unfold, the movie marches calmly forward to its inevitable climax. We do not quite know exactly how things will be resolved, but we know that no matter what happens, it will not be the ending any of the characters wished for. An audience, however, one could not wish for a more perfect cinematic resolution.
(Germany, 2014)
director: Christian Petzold
In Phoenix, Nelly (Nina Hoss), a Jewish jazz singer, manages to escape Auschwitz with a horrible gunshot wound to her face. A plastic surgeon is enlisted, and soon Nelly is recovering with a face that is almost, but not quite, her own. After her terrible experiences in the concentration camp, she is desperate to find her loved ones, but most were killed by the Nazis. However, she is certain that her piano-playing husband Johnny (Ronald Zehrfield) is still alive, and she is determined to find him.
Nelly's friend Lene (Nina Kunzendorf), who works at the department of Jewish records, holds secret knowledge about Nelly's husband Johnny. Lene has taken up the role of Nelly's rescuer and is making plans for the two of them to go to Palestine, which will soon be made into a Jewish homeland, a place Lene imagines will be free from anti-Jewish sentiment, free of Nazis, and far enough away fro the Germany of World War II that they will one day be able to bear listening to German songs again. Lene quivers with pride, passion, and barely sublimated desire when speaking to Nelly about the life they will live together there, free from the chaos and hatred of the war. The character is onscreen for a relatively short period of time, yet Kunzendorf manages to convey Lene's inner turmoil beautifully.
However, Nelly still longs to find Johnny, whom she loves and misses dearly; her desperate quest to find him takes her along the dangerous streets in night-time Berlin that are populated with American GIs, street corner musicians, and violent criminals. As Lene watches in helpless anguish, Nelly tracks Johnny down to a nightclub named "Phoenix."
As the nightclub's name implies, Phoenix is both a literal and metaphorical story of transformation. (The metaphorical flavour of the movie helps make Nelly's surprisingly normal post-operative appearance easier to accept.) Post-WWII Germany is portrayed as a society in transition--it is a country still uncertain of how to make reparations for the unrepairable. Can anything ever make up for Nazi crimes against humanity? What do we do about the everyday people who sold out their friends and loved ones to save their own skins? What should Holocaust survivors be given? And importantly, what is it that they need?
Hoss is entirely believable as a woman slowly re-emerging from suspended animation. While she was in the concentration camp, she did not know what was happening to Berlin. Her reactions to the rubble and ruin in the city are poignant. Just as she is rediscovering herself with her own new face, she is also rediscovering her old city with its new face.
Zehrfield has, in some ways, a more challenging role. In some ways he is an enigma; we don't really know what drives him, though we can speculate. We as the audience see him simultaneously through two lenses: we are privy to Lene's knowledge, so we know the truth about him, but because we also see him as Nelly sees him--her true love--his character lends itself to a slightly more complex reading.
The movie's pacing is perfect. It never moves too slowly or too quickly; it maintains tension and keeps the viewer wanting to find out what happens next. But at the same time, it never seems rushed. As events unfold, the movie marches calmly forward to its inevitable climax. We do not quite know exactly how things will be resolved, but we know that no matter what happens, it will not be the ending any of the characters wished for. An audience, however, one could not wish for a more perfect cinematic resolution.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
movie review: A Most Violent Year
A Most Violent Year
(USA, 2014)
director: J.C. Chandor
Despite its title, A Most Violent Year should be very boring, and indeed it does start off quite slowly. The camera is weirdly static for long periods of time, there is very little in the way of soundtrack, and there are a lot of intense discussions about the ins and outs of the heating oil business. This does not exactly sound gripping. However, the film builds tension surprisingly well, the cinematography is expertly handled (I was especially impressed by the camerawork in a chase scene in the trainyards), and the cast is uniformly excellent.
We follow Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac), an intense New York City businessman, over 30 days in 1981 (the "most violent" year referenced in the title, when New York saw the highest number of murders in its history). Abel makes real estate deals, secures loans, and tries to find out who is robbing his company's heating fuel trucks, all the while doing battle with the district attorney (Peter Oyelowo) who is investigating Standard Heating for a variety of offenses including fraud and tax evasion. This problem with the DA particularly vexes Abel, because he feels he has tried very hard to run an honest, above board business. He has fully bought in to the idea of the immigrant's dream of America, where hard work and ambition will bring success, and so far the idea has worked for him--until now.
We meet Abel's smart and steely wife Anna (Jessica Chastain), whose father originally owned Standard Heating. Anna loves Abel and their two daughters, and she is not about to let anything get in the way of their continued safety and success. At one point, Anna tells Abel he'd better solve his problems, because otherwise she will get involved, and no one is going to be happy if that happens. We find out exactly what she means by that a couple of scenes later.
The film is paced very slowly but deliberately, which adds to Abel's sense of growing dread. The robberies are increasing and getting more violent; the Morales' new mansion is breached; the bank is becoming uneasy about Standard Heating as a loan prospect; the district attorney is becoming more insistent. Abel seems to be unhappily over his head.
The filmmakers managed to assemble a stellar cast, all performing in an understated but powerful way. Chastain is underused, but still riveting in her limited role; Isaac is just as intense and effective as he was in Inside Llewyn Davis, and Oyelowo is pleasant but insistent as he tightens the vise grip on Abel and his business. Albert Brooks is enjoyable as usual as Abel's lawyer, an easygoing, perennially beleaguered guy who is a lot smarter than he seems. And Elyes Gabel is excellent in a small but pivotal role as Julian, the young, inexperienced driver whose truck is carjacked (truckjacked?) at the very beginning of the movie.
A Most Violent Year is understated but it works. At the end, we see that Abel finally understands the steep price for achieving the immigrant's dream in America. Anna knew it all along.
(USA, 2014)
director: J.C. Chandor
Despite its title, A Most Violent Year should be very boring, and indeed it does start off quite slowly. The camera is weirdly static for long periods of time, there is very little in the way of soundtrack, and there are a lot of intense discussions about the ins and outs of the heating oil business. This does not exactly sound gripping. However, the film builds tension surprisingly well, the cinematography is expertly handled (I was especially impressed by the camerawork in a chase scene in the trainyards), and the cast is uniformly excellent.
We follow Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac), an intense New York City businessman, over 30 days in 1981 (the "most violent" year referenced in the title, when New York saw the highest number of murders in its history). Abel makes real estate deals, secures loans, and tries to find out who is robbing his company's heating fuel trucks, all the while doing battle with the district attorney (Peter Oyelowo) who is investigating Standard Heating for a variety of offenses including fraud and tax evasion. This problem with the DA particularly vexes Abel, because he feels he has tried very hard to run an honest, above board business. He has fully bought in to the idea of the immigrant's dream of America, where hard work and ambition will bring success, and so far the idea has worked for him--until now.
We meet Abel's smart and steely wife Anna (Jessica Chastain), whose father originally owned Standard Heating. Anna loves Abel and their two daughters, and she is not about to let anything get in the way of their continued safety and success. At one point, Anna tells Abel he'd better solve his problems, because otherwise she will get involved, and no one is going to be happy if that happens. We find out exactly what she means by that a couple of scenes later.
The film is paced very slowly but deliberately, which adds to Abel's sense of growing dread. The robberies are increasing and getting more violent; the Morales' new mansion is breached; the bank is becoming uneasy about Standard Heating as a loan prospect; the district attorney is becoming more insistent. Abel seems to be unhappily over his head.
The filmmakers managed to assemble a stellar cast, all performing in an understated but powerful way. Chastain is underused, but still riveting in her limited role; Isaac is just as intense and effective as he was in Inside Llewyn Davis, and Oyelowo is pleasant but insistent as he tightens the vise grip on Abel and his business. Albert Brooks is enjoyable as usual as Abel's lawyer, an easygoing, perennially beleaguered guy who is a lot smarter than he seems. And Elyes Gabel is excellent in a small but pivotal role as Julian, the young, inexperienced driver whose truck is carjacked (truckjacked?) at the very beginning of the movie.
A Most Violent Year is understated but it works. At the end, we see that Abel finally understands the steep price for achieving the immigrant's dream in America. Anna knew it all along.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
movie review: Timbuktu
Timbuktu
(France/Mauritania, 2014)
director: Abderrahmane Sissako
I grew up hearing the term "Timbuktu" used as a synonym for "far away in the middle of nowhere." I don't think I realized it was a real place until I was a teenager. In reality, Timbuktu is a beautiful place in Mali, Africa, where people live among gently sculpted sand dunes, under a blue desert sky.
The very first shot of the film shows a gazelle running gracefully, a jeep full of jihadists with AK-47s in pursuit. One of the men comments that they should stop shooting and just let the animal run and tire itself out so they can catch it. Next, we see the men using traditional local statues for target practice. The statues start out whole and dignified, but after a few rounds, are sadly just fragments of their former beautiful selves: they are now missing breasts, arms, heads. Both scenes are a subtle but powerful setup for the film's depiction of the physical and psychological destruction the jihadists have wrought on the local community.
Our sympathies are immediately with the locals. The jihadists are a heavily armed, dour bunch from elsewhere, and in fact do not speak either the local languages or French, the area's literal lingua franca. Many of the film's conversations are done through translators. We get the impression that for a long time before the invasion, the locals were peacefully minding their own business, only to have their lives turned upside down by the fundamentalists, who have now forbidden things like smoking, singing, and soccer. When the jihadists enter the local mosque, the imam tells them that they are not really acting in the name of Allah, or Islam for that matter, and that they should leave.
Ignoring the imam and local custom, the jihadists exhort the village women to veil themselves and wear gloves. In one memorable early scene, a market woman shouts at the jihadists in exasperation that she's a fishmonger, so how on earth is she supposed to clean fish while wearing gloves? She pulls a filleting knife out of her pocket and tells them that they'd better cut her hands off, because she's not going to wear gloves. Besides, she says, when her hands are cut off, they won't be able to force her to wear gloves anyway.
Gradually, we are introduced to more and more villagers who run afoul of the fundamentalists: the young couple who steal romantic moments with each other; the family who insists on continuing to play their musical instruments and sing; the mother who does not want to marry off her daughter to an imperious stranger. But the characters we get to know best are a small Bedouin family--Satima, the mother, Kidane, the father, and Toya, their twelve year old daughter--and Isaan, the local orphan boy who looks after their tiny herd of cows. The four of them live peacefully among the dunes in tents, happy together but slightly concerned about the steady exodus of their neighbours. Satima notes that they are the last ones left in their camp. Kidane says he wants to stay put; after all, where would they go? But he admits he is worried too. We, the audience, are also worried as we watch the family eventually come under the scrutiny of the jihadists.
Unlike the jihadists, the filmmaker, Abderrahmane Sissako, does not see things in black and white. Everyone is portrayed with compassion and dignity. We see one of the senior jihadists, Abdelkarim, as he privately struggles with the conflict between his fundamentalist principles and the stubborn resistance of the locals. He isn't very good at driving in the desert, so he has a driver, Omar, who tries to teach him the ways of Toyota trucks. "You don't know everything," Omar points out to him, calmly, as he stalls the truck once again. When they approach Satima, washing her hair outside the tent, Abdelkarim tells her to cover her head; she tells him calmly that if what he sees offends him, it is his duty not to look. He pauses, then walks back to the truck and drives away.
Wisely, the film isn't unrelentingly dark; there are moments of surprising levity and joy. Though soccer is forbidden, the locals find a way to defy the rule without breaking the letter of the law. The scene is beautifully shot and is a testament to both the beauty of the landscape and the skill of the cinematographer, Sofiane El Fani. Other beautifully shot scenes feature Zabou (Kettly Noel), the wonderfully strange village witch, who prowls around the village in her gorgeously eccentric colourful dresses, practicing rituals with chickens and calling the jihadists "assholes." They leave her alone, for reasons unknown. The soundscape of the movie is also very well done: the family of musicians makes beautiful melodies that float out into the night; during one tense scene all we can hear are the snorts and moans of the herd of camels; the sounds of corporal and capital punishment echo painfully after the scenes are finished.
Eventually, despite the resistance of the locals, the jihadists gain more and more of a foothold in the village and there is more violence. There are lashes; there is forced marriage; there is a brutal stoning. The Bedouin family is put in peril.
By the end, we are back to the image of the gazelle. Is it tired out yet? It's still running, but we don't know for how much longer.
(France/Mauritania, 2014)
director: Abderrahmane Sissako
I grew up hearing the term "Timbuktu" used as a synonym for "far away in the middle of nowhere." I don't think I realized it was a real place until I was a teenager. In reality, Timbuktu is a beautiful place in Mali, Africa, where people live among gently sculpted sand dunes, under a blue desert sky.
The very first shot of the film shows a gazelle running gracefully, a jeep full of jihadists with AK-47s in pursuit. One of the men comments that they should stop shooting and just let the animal run and tire itself out so they can catch it. Next, we see the men using traditional local statues for target practice. The statues start out whole and dignified, but after a few rounds, are sadly just fragments of their former beautiful selves: they are now missing breasts, arms, heads. Both scenes are a subtle but powerful setup for the film's depiction of the physical and psychological destruction the jihadists have wrought on the local community.
Our sympathies are immediately with the locals. The jihadists are a heavily armed, dour bunch from elsewhere, and in fact do not speak either the local languages or French, the area's literal lingua franca. Many of the film's conversations are done through translators. We get the impression that for a long time before the invasion, the locals were peacefully minding their own business, only to have their lives turned upside down by the fundamentalists, who have now forbidden things like smoking, singing, and soccer. When the jihadists enter the local mosque, the imam tells them that they are not really acting in the name of Allah, or Islam for that matter, and that they should leave.
Ignoring the imam and local custom, the jihadists exhort the village women to veil themselves and wear gloves. In one memorable early scene, a market woman shouts at the jihadists in exasperation that she's a fishmonger, so how on earth is she supposed to clean fish while wearing gloves? She pulls a filleting knife out of her pocket and tells them that they'd better cut her hands off, because she's not going to wear gloves. Besides, she says, when her hands are cut off, they won't be able to force her to wear gloves anyway.
Gradually, we are introduced to more and more villagers who run afoul of the fundamentalists: the young couple who steal romantic moments with each other; the family who insists on continuing to play their musical instruments and sing; the mother who does not want to marry off her daughter to an imperious stranger. But the characters we get to know best are a small Bedouin family--Satima, the mother, Kidane, the father, and Toya, their twelve year old daughter--and Isaan, the local orphan boy who looks after their tiny herd of cows. The four of them live peacefully among the dunes in tents, happy together but slightly concerned about the steady exodus of their neighbours. Satima notes that they are the last ones left in their camp. Kidane says he wants to stay put; after all, where would they go? But he admits he is worried too. We, the audience, are also worried as we watch the family eventually come under the scrutiny of the jihadists.
Unlike the jihadists, the filmmaker, Abderrahmane Sissako, does not see things in black and white. Everyone is portrayed with compassion and dignity. We see one of the senior jihadists, Abdelkarim, as he privately struggles with the conflict between his fundamentalist principles and the stubborn resistance of the locals. He isn't very good at driving in the desert, so he has a driver, Omar, who tries to teach him the ways of Toyota trucks. "You don't know everything," Omar points out to him, calmly, as he stalls the truck once again. When they approach Satima, washing her hair outside the tent, Abdelkarim tells her to cover her head; she tells him calmly that if what he sees offends him, it is his duty not to look. He pauses, then walks back to the truck and drives away.
Wisely, the film isn't unrelentingly dark; there are moments of surprising levity and joy. Though soccer is forbidden, the locals find a way to defy the rule without breaking the letter of the law. The scene is beautifully shot and is a testament to both the beauty of the landscape and the skill of the cinematographer, Sofiane El Fani. Other beautifully shot scenes feature Zabou (Kettly Noel), the wonderfully strange village witch, who prowls around the village in her gorgeously eccentric colourful dresses, practicing rituals with chickens and calling the jihadists "assholes." They leave her alone, for reasons unknown. The soundscape of the movie is also very well done: the family of musicians makes beautiful melodies that float out into the night; during one tense scene all we can hear are the snorts and moans of the herd of camels; the sounds of corporal and capital punishment echo painfully after the scenes are finished.
Eventually, despite the resistance of the locals, the jihadists gain more and more of a foothold in the village and there is more violence. There are lashes; there is forced marriage; there is a brutal stoning. The Bedouin family is put in peril.
By the end, we are back to the image of the gazelle. Is it tired out yet? It's still running, but we don't know for how much longer.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
movie review: Becoming Bulletproof
Becoming Bulletproof
(USA, 2014)
director: Michael Barnatt
Before I watched this movie I had never heard of Zeno Mountain Farm or any of their projects. It turns out that ever since about 2008, they have been organizing a number of annual events where people with disabilities get the chance to come and experience the joy and satisfaction that come with collaborating on a group project.
In the case of Becoming Bulletproof, that project is a film. In previous years, Zeno has made a horror movie, a romantic comedy, and a time-travelling movie. Each film involves a professional crew of volunteers and a large cast of actors, approximately 1/3 of whom have disabilities such as Williams syndrome, cerebral palsy, Down Syndrome, and autism. This year, the film is a western called Bulletproof Jackson.
The documentary follows the filmmaking process, showing both the exciting moments (staging a gunfight) and the boredom inducing or downright irritating moments (waiting to shoot your scene while others are doing theirs; sitting through take after take as your costars forget their lines or someone lets the boom cast a shadow over an actor's face).
At the same time, it explores the philosophy behind Zeno. Each person who attends the camp is paired with another person who looks after his or her physical needs and provides companionship. However, the camp does not use terms like "clients" and "staff or "campers" and "counsellors." This means that even though some participants need someone to, say, help them with physical activities like bathing or dressing themselves, there is still a sense of dignity about the whole affair. As one of the camp founders points out, many of the camp attendees spend little to no time during the rest of the year with people who aren't paid to spend time with them. One of the rules of the camp, therefore, is that no one pays to be there, and no one is paid to be there.
There are many cast members, but the film focuses on just a few. AJ is a 32 year old man with cerebral palsy who has just joined Zeno this year. He had applied to attend a while back, but because the organization's philosophy states that people are invited back every year, he had to wait for a space to open up. When it finally did, he was overjoyed. AJ's mom, with whom he lives, expresses happiness that he has this opportunity, relief that she will have some respite, and trepidation at sending her son across the country to be with strangers for several weeks.
AJ is an incredibly appealing and thoughtful person. His life is not easy; he experiences pain on an almost minute by minute basis, accompanied by frustration at his physical limitations, and yet, as his mother says, he maintains an amazing sense of hope and happiness. He wants to be an actor; as one of the able-bodied Zeno participants says, he is hopeful but realistic about his situation. AJ knows he isn't likely to be the lead detective in a CSI show. But if there's a character who is in a wheelchair and has cerebral palsy? Well, then AJ would definitely be the person to do it.
Jeremy, a Zeno veteran, has the lead role as Jackson. He has Williams syndrome, a chromosomal condition which results in a preturnaturally excellent ear for music (we see Jeremy playing the piano and drums with ease and skill), but also intellectual difficulties. People with Williams Sydrome are very social and verbal, and it is easy to see what a benefit this is to Jeremy as an actor. He is natural and charming in the role of Jackson--he has a lot of natural charisma and wit on screen and knows it.
Judy is a woman with cerebral palsy who is more physically limited than AJ, but unlike AJ, she is quite isolated in her daily life. She spends a lot of time alone, and as a result has acquired a doll because, she says, she needed someone to nurture and talk to. Judy is heartbreaking in her directness about her life circumstances, and like all the others is very appealing. She's not always easy to understand (the film helps out with subtitles) but as we witness conversations between her and her Zeno companion, we witness her sly humour emerge.
The film's subject matter could lend itself to a glossily superficial treatment of inspirational people with disabilities. It would be easy to just make a feel-good film that didn't delve deeply into the uncomfortable truths of people's lives. But Becoming Bulletproof doesn't do that. In addition to Judy's frank and honest admission about her lonely day-to-day existence outside Zeno, we also see AJ's mom break down as she admits the grief of knowing that her son experiences excruciating pain and she can't make it better for him. Not only that, but we also see AJ break down as he expresses his frustration at his limitations--Zeno, he says, helps him feel his life has purpose and that he is a worthwhile contributor. When he's at home and can't do anything, he says he feels like he is worthless. By this point, we have gotten to know him quite well and it is heartbreaking to hear such a vibrant, engaged person speak this way about himself. But it's something that we need to hear, because it is the reality for many with his condition.
The documentary neatly avoids many of the pitfalls that could beset a feel-good movie. There is no glossing over the uncomfortable facts of life with a disability, and it is not artificially upbeat. But at the same time, it's not a grim life lesson, either. There are plenty of genuinely funny moments where we are laughing with, not at, the actors. The participants are natural and charming, and they all clearly care deeply about each other. The director of Bulletproof Jackson plainly states that he holds everyone up to a high standard, and we can feel the sense of purpose that the cast and crew feel as they pull together to accomplish this amazing project.
At the end of the film, we see the Zeno movie's premiere. The end result is polished looking and professional--a miracle on a budget that probably doesn't even come in over $25,000. I found myself wishing we could watch more than the two or three minutes of the finished result that we see in the film.
I'm happy to see that Becoming Bulletproof and the film within the film are getting more publicity at various festivals across North America. I highly recommend Becoming Bulletproof--it is exactly what a good documentary should be. It's impossible to watch this and not root for the participants! Definitely two thumbs up.
More information about Zeno Mountain Farm.
More information about Becoming Bulletproof.
(USA, 2014)
director: Michael Barnatt
Before I watched this movie I had never heard of Zeno Mountain Farm or any of their projects. It turns out that ever since about 2008, they have been organizing a number of annual events where people with disabilities get the chance to come and experience the joy and satisfaction that come with collaborating on a group project.
In the case of Becoming Bulletproof, that project is a film. In previous years, Zeno has made a horror movie, a romantic comedy, and a time-travelling movie. Each film involves a professional crew of volunteers and a large cast of actors, approximately 1/3 of whom have disabilities such as Williams syndrome, cerebral palsy, Down Syndrome, and autism. This year, the film is a western called Bulletproof Jackson.
The documentary follows the filmmaking process, showing both the exciting moments (staging a gunfight) and the boredom inducing or downright irritating moments (waiting to shoot your scene while others are doing theirs; sitting through take after take as your costars forget their lines or someone lets the boom cast a shadow over an actor's face).
At the same time, it explores the philosophy behind Zeno. Each person who attends the camp is paired with another person who looks after his or her physical needs and provides companionship. However, the camp does not use terms like "clients" and "staff or "campers" and "counsellors." This means that even though some participants need someone to, say, help them with physical activities like bathing or dressing themselves, there is still a sense of dignity about the whole affair. As one of the camp founders points out, many of the camp attendees spend little to no time during the rest of the year with people who aren't paid to spend time with them. One of the rules of the camp, therefore, is that no one pays to be there, and no one is paid to be there.
There are many cast members, but the film focuses on just a few. AJ is a 32 year old man with cerebral palsy who has just joined Zeno this year. He had applied to attend a while back, but because the organization's philosophy states that people are invited back every year, he had to wait for a space to open up. When it finally did, he was overjoyed. AJ's mom, with whom he lives, expresses happiness that he has this opportunity, relief that she will have some respite, and trepidation at sending her son across the country to be with strangers for several weeks.
AJ is an incredibly appealing and thoughtful person. His life is not easy; he experiences pain on an almost minute by minute basis, accompanied by frustration at his physical limitations, and yet, as his mother says, he maintains an amazing sense of hope and happiness. He wants to be an actor; as one of the able-bodied Zeno participants says, he is hopeful but realistic about his situation. AJ knows he isn't likely to be the lead detective in a CSI show. But if there's a character who is in a wheelchair and has cerebral palsy? Well, then AJ would definitely be the person to do it.
Jeremy, a Zeno veteran, has the lead role as Jackson. He has Williams syndrome, a chromosomal condition which results in a preturnaturally excellent ear for music (we see Jeremy playing the piano and drums with ease and skill), but also intellectual difficulties. People with Williams Sydrome are very social and verbal, and it is easy to see what a benefit this is to Jeremy as an actor. He is natural and charming in the role of Jackson--he has a lot of natural charisma and wit on screen and knows it.
Judy is a woman with cerebral palsy who is more physically limited than AJ, but unlike AJ, she is quite isolated in her daily life. She spends a lot of time alone, and as a result has acquired a doll because, she says, she needed someone to nurture and talk to. Judy is heartbreaking in her directness about her life circumstances, and like all the others is very appealing. She's not always easy to understand (the film helps out with subtitles) but as we witness conversations between her and her Zeno companion, we witness her sly humour emerge.
The film's subject matter could lend itself to a glossily superficial treatment of inspirational people with disabilities. It would be easy to just make a feel-good film that didn't delve deeply into the uncomfortable truths of people's lives. But Becoming Bulletproof doesn't do that. In addition to Judy's frank and honest admission about her lonely day-to-day existence outside Zeno, we also see AJ's mom break down as she admits the grief of knowing that her son experiences excruciating pain and she can't make it better for him. Not only that, but we also see AJ break down as he expresses his frustration at his limitations--Zeno, he says, helps him feel his life has purpose and that he is a worthwhile contributor. When he's at home and can't do anything, he says he feels like he is worthless. By this point, we have gotten to know him quite well and it is heartbreaking to hear such a vibrant, engaged person speak this way about himself. But it's something that we need to hear, because it is the reality for many with his condition.
The documentary neatly avoids many of the pitfalls that could beset a feel-good movie. There is no glossing over the uncomfortable facts of life with a disability, and it is not artificially upbeat. But at the same time, it's not a grim life lesson, either. There are plenty of genuinely funny moments where we are laughing with, not at, the actors. The participants are natural and charming, and they all clearly care deeply about each other. The director of Bulletproof Jackson plainly states that he holds everyone up to a high standard, and we can feel the sense of purpose that the cast and crew feel as they pull together to accomplish this amazing project.
At the end of the film, we see the Zeno movie's premiere. The end result is polished looking and professional--a miracle on a budget that probably doesn't even come in over $25,000. I found myself wishing we could watch more than the two or three minutes of the finished result that we see in the film.
I'm happy to see that Becoming Bulletproof and the film within the film are getting more publicity at various festivals across North America. I highly recommend Becoming Bulletproof--it is exactly what a good documentary should be. It's impossible to watch this and not root for the participants! Definitely two thumbs up.
More information about Zeno Mountain Farm.
More information about Becoming Bulletproof.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
movie review: Felix et Meira
Félix et Meira
(Canada, 2014)
directors: François Delisle, Maxime Giroux
(Canada, 2014)
directors: François Delisle, Maxime Giroux
What is it that causes some people to chafe against cultural
expectations when others are at peace with conforming? And what happens when these
individuals decide there is simply no place for them in their culture of birth?
In Félix et Meira, a young Orthodox Jewish woman, Meira (Hadas Yaron),
battles feelings that the life she is expected to lead—early
motherhood to an enormous brood of children—is one she dreads. Although Meira has grown up with her religion’s expectations
of women, she finds them stifling. She rebels in small ways (listening to
forbidden pop music) and large (taking birth control, which she carefully hides
in a box of maxi pads along with everything else she doesn’t want her husband
to know about). When her husband becomes exasperated with her embarrassing
refusal to act like everyone else, she drops to the floor and teases him by playing
dead. This, of course, is her unconscious expression of what she is really
feeling inside—there is no room for the real Meira whom she must suppress under
averted eyes and silent obedience.
One day while waiting to pick up an order from the local
kosher deli, Meira crosses paths with Félix (Martin Dubreuil), a feckless artist who is struggling
with his own inability to conform to expectations: in his case, the expectations belonged to his wealthy bully of a father, from whom he has become estranged. After many years of bitterness between them, his father is now on
his deathbed and doesn’t recognize him. Félix, in his grief, announces to
everyone in the deli that his father is dying, but Meira is prevented from expressing her sympathies because according to her culture's dictates, she is not allowed to make eye contact with or speak to him. Even so, the two do make a connection: as
he leaves the deli, Félix gives her infant daughter the watercolour painting he is carrying with him. Sure enough, the painting takes its place among Meira's other hidden possessions.
The relationship that develops between the two characters
is believable, understated and surprisingly chaste. Here we have two characters
driven not by lust, but by longing of a different kind. Meira longs for escape from
the fetters of her community; Félix longs for a meaningful connection
and escape from the isolation and loneliness he feels, drifting around Montreal under
the worried gaze of his affectionate sister.
Part of the strength of film is its nuanced
portrayal of each of the three main characters. A lesser movie would have created a villain out of Shulem (Luzer Twersky), Meira's husband. But he is not a cruel man. He is devout, and he is happy within the confines of his Orthodox Judaism. He wishes that Meira could feel the same way. However, he is not a monster, and he cares about her very deeply. (A former Orthodox Jew himself, Twersky also acted as cultural consultant on the film, ensuring that the cultural portrayals were as authentic as possible.) Martin Dubreil does a good job as the playful but gently sorrowful Félix, and Hadas Yaron is especially good as Meira. She manages to convey youth, shyness, and naïveté combined with intelligence, strength, and agency.
Another strength of the movie is the pacing, which is precise and economical. There are no unnecessary scenes; each one is there for a specific purpose and moves the story along effectively and efficiently to its conclusion. The cinematography is muted and melancholy, as is the soundtrack, which features the excellent "After Laughter" by Wendy Rene and "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen.
Overall, I would definitely recommend Félix et Meira for a satisfying and sensitive portrayal of a woman coming into her own sense of self.
Another strength of the movie is the pacing, which is precise and economical. There are no unnecessary scenes; each one is there for a specific purpose and moves the story along effectively and efficiently to its conclusion. The cinematography is muted and melancholy, as is the soundtrack, which features the excellent "After Laughter" by Wendy Rene and "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen.
Overall, I would definitely recommend Félix et Meira for a satisfying and sensitive portrayal of a woman coming into her own sense of self.
Monday, March 09, 2015
movie review: Mommy
Mommy
(Canada, 2014)
director: Xavier Dolan
It's true that Mommy received the Jury Prize at the Cannes film festival last year, but as far as I'm concerned, its true triumph is to have finally convinced me of Celine Dion's musical genius. I'm (mostly) joking, but there is a scene in the movie that pairs Dion's insanely catchy "On Ne Change Pas" ("We Don't Change") with the events on screen in a way that is equal parts amusing, disturbing, and eventually quite beautiful.
Watching Mommy is like being strapped in for the ride on a towering roller coaster. It is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. At the centre of the movie is the relationship between Diane (Anne Dorval) and Steve (Antoine-Olivier Pilon), her charming but very troubled teenaged son. When we first meet Diane, Steve is being released into her care from a juvenile institution--he's been kicked out for yet another in a series of violent incidents. It's easy to see that Diane loves her son and that he loves her, but it's also clear that they are very capable of bringing out the worst in each other.
Steve's father passed away a few years ago, leaving Diane as the sole breadwinner. But because she never finished high school ("Don't be like me!" she pleads with her son), it's hard for her to find work. Compounding the problem is that in addition to making a living, she has to find a way to homeschool Steve so he can get a high school education and stay out of trouble. Watching Steve and Diane with shy but intense interest is Kyla (Suzanne Clément), the schoolteacher on sabbatical who lives across the street. She seems to need a friend as much as Diane and Steve do, and the unfolding of this triangular relationship is fascinating and unpredictable.
Mommy has so many things going for it: the soundtrack, the sharp and clever writing, the effortless acting of the three leads. Pilon is astoundingly good for such a young actor; Dorval completely inhabits her role with ferocity and beauty; and Clément's calm watchfulness, which could easily have been obscured, manages to assert itself despite the crazy energy of Diane and Steve. The cinematography is beautiful and accomplished: nearly all of it is shot in a very unusual aspect ratio--1:1, or square. Dolan uses this odd framing to great effect, closing us in tightly with the characters on screen in a way that creates both intimacy and intensity.
I have only two minor criticisms of the film. The first is about the rather inexplicable text at the beginning of the film stating that the story is set in the near-future--it's distracting, and the movie would have worked just as well without it. The second is that at 2 hours and 19 minutes, it is a bit too long. However, the final 15 or 20 minutes are wrenching, and easily as riveting as anything at the beginning. Mommy, like Steve, is a howling, whirling dervish of energy that mercilessly whips the audience along, forcing us to bear witness to the destruction he leaves in the wake of his furious love.
(Canada, 2014)
director: Xavier Dolan
It's true that Mommy received the Jury Prize at the Cannes film festival last year, but as far as I'm concerned, its true triumph is to have finally convinced me of Celine Dion's musical genius. I'm (mostly) joking, but there is a scene in the movie that pairs Dion's insanely catchy "On Ne Change Pas" ("We Don't Change") with the events on screen in a way that is equal parts amusing, disturbing, and eventually quite beautiful.
Watching Mommy is like being strapped in for the ride on a towering roller coaster. It is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. At the centre of the movie is the relationship between Diane (Anne Dorval) and Steve (Antoine-Olivier Pilon), her charming but very troubled teenaged son. When we first meet Diane, Steve is being released into her care from a juvenile institution--he's been kicked out for yet another in a series of violent incidents. It's easy to see that Diane loves her son and that he loves her, but it's also clear that they are very capable of bringing out the worst in each other.
Steve's father passed away a few years ago, leaving Diane as the sole breadwinner. But because she never finished high school ("Don't be like me!" she pleads with her son), it's hard for her to find work. Compounding the problem is that in addition to making a living, she has to find a way to homeschool Steve so he can get a high school education and stay out of trouble. Watching Steve and Diane with shy but intense interest is Kyla (Suzanne Clément), the schoolteacher on sabbatical who lives across the street. She seems to need a friend as much as Diane and Steve do, and the unfolding of this triangular relationship is fascinating and unpredictable.
Mommy has so many things going for it: the soundtrack, the sharp and clever writing, the effortless acting of the three leads. Pilon is astoundingly good for such a young actor; Dorval completely inhabits her role with ferocity and beauty; and Clément's calm watchfulness, which could easily have been obscured, manages to assert itself despite the crazy energy of Diane and Steve. The cinematography is beautiful and accomplished: nearly all of it is shot in a very unusual aspect ratio--1:1, or square. Dolan uses this odd framing to great effect, closing us in tightly with the characters on screen in a way that creates both intimacy and intensity.
I have only two minor criticisms of the film. The first is about the rather inexplicable text at the beginning of the film stating that the story is set in the near-future--it's distracting, and the movie would have worked just as well without it. The second is that at 2 hours and 19 minutes, it is a bit too long. However, the final 15 or 20 minutes are wrenching, and easily as riveting as anything at the beginning. Mommy, like Steve, is a howling, whirling dervish of energy that mercilessly whips the audience along, forcing us to bear witness to the destruction he leaves in the wake of his furious love.
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