2006 movie, from the director whose most famous film is '13 Tzameti'.
This is a short little parable, which we grew into a rather enjoyed. In fact, it is very short. It seems like a short story, the way we have the lead up, the set up, the excitment, and the aftermath. A simple, linear structure. The characters are also deliberately not given much of a backing, much backdrop and 'deep' character scenes or action. In fact, they seem to come from the surface. We realise, as it comes towards the end, that this is a technique that is able to make a nice switch on us, that is able to suddenly turn and surprise us, as we realise the 'true' characterisation.
The shots are simple at first, but improve. We have lots of close-up, a complete loss of realistic space, which nicely balances the theme of how the lack of translation between the foreign environment and the cultural outsiders.
This theme deserves some explanation, and is perhaps the finest feature of the film. That fact that it turns out these French tourists really can't understand, really don't seem unable to be anything but in the way. It is a delicious little stab of a nice, a skewer, a sharp twist. This film changes perspective on us very cleverly, as we realise what's really going on here; about the Georgians, not about the French.
The colour also deserves a mention, the red faces really 'heating' up the atmosphere, really making things steam and sizzle with a sense of tension. Also notice with this the use of deep black tropes on both sides of the screen. The way it covers the windows and the backdrops.
This is a rather sweetly sharp film. Bitter, with a bit of tough to it, in its short short run time.
Friday 29 October 2010
Waltz Wth Bashir
Ari Folman's masterpiece from 2008. We remember it as one of our favourite films, full stop. On re-watching it surprised as, but remains stunning.
This film is largely about the aetheticisation of war. It is about the way war is portrayed through our false memories. It is, psychonanalytically, a fascinating film, with the backgrounds and symbols bleeding into the presence. This whole film bleeds background to foreground.
Visually, the film is quite simple. We know we are following Folman, we have wide or close shots or so on. The narrative pattern and structure is beautifully done though; deep and insightful, it shows how one bleeds into the next, of collective memory, and of totality.
The excitement and apparent sexiness of some of the actions scenes and the rock music certainly ramps up to a wild manner. The sharp lines really add to the modern, postmodern indeed, passage of what war is. Few films can be as close to dispaying the modern condition.
This film had a different overall tone than we remembered. We remembered the sexiness primarily. In fact this film is harsh, trenchant, unforgiving. What happened was disgusting, we ask ourselves; 'How can this happen? This is impossible'. This ending is a move from bleakness and twisting, which we must see, have to see. This is no cool and fast phatasy; this is bringing the unimaginable too light. Done, of course, through the imaginary animation. Still stunning.
This film is largely about the aetheticisation of war. It is about the way war is portrayed through our false memories. It is, psychonanalytically, a fascinating film, with the backgrounds and symbols bleeding into the presence. This whole film bleeds background to foreground.
Visually, the film is quite simple. We know we are following Folman, we have wide or close shots or so on. The narrative pattern and structure is beautifully done though; deep and insightful, it shows how one bleeds into the next, of collective memory, and of totality.
The excitement and apparent sexiness of some of the actions scenes and the rock music certainly ramps up to a wild manner. The sharp lines really add to the modern, postmodern indeed, passage of what war is. Few films can be as close to dispaying the modern condition.
This film had a different overall tone than we remembered. We remembered the sexiness primarily. In fact this film is harsh, trenchant, unforgiving. What happened was disgusting, we ask ourselves; 'How can this happen? This is impossible'. This ending is a move from bleakness and twisting, which we must see, have to see. This is no cool and fast phatasy; this is bringing the unimaginable too light. Done, of course, through the imaginary animation. Still stunning.
Lourdes
This has been one of our finest films of the year, and on re-watching it stands up to all that, and more.
The film was less stomach-grabbing than remembered, less awkward and nervous. What was instead found was an incredible sense of stillness and silenc; the shots could never go on too long, the laid out (but not drawing intention to themselves) composotions inviting endless looks. Some of the shots also look particularly interesting, in so far as they are peeks with some of the action obscured in a black; even half the screen.
The study of Catholicism is undoubtedly ambiguous. The path towards a critique though is more opened than we remembered, perhaps the film does come out in one direction. It does seem to have a message; that it is love, of Mr Carre for companionship, for togetherness, that is important.
As far as the content, we again sympathise hugely with Mrs Carre, who is in many ways the emotional heart of the film. Sylvie Testud's performance is quiet and cold, we study her as much as we feel with her.
Again, this film is one of the finest of, frankly, modern European film making. What may look slow from the outside is in fact never long enough; beautifully timed shots studying the look of life. The quiet, the in-betweens. We remain with some sensational final shots. The wonderfully entertaining and catchy, but idiotic, karaoke, and that look at Testud, whose thoughts we are asked to infer, the most powerful way.
The film was less stomach-grabbing than remembered, less awkward and nervous. What was instead found was an incredible sense of stillness and silenc; the shots could never go on too long, the laid out (but not drawing intention to themselves) composotions inviting endless looks. Some of the shots also look particularly interesting, in so far as they are peeks with some of the action obscured in a black; even half the screen.
The study of Catholicism is undoubtedly ambiguous. The path towards a critique though is more opened than we remembered, perhaps the film does come out in one direction. It does seem to have a message; that it is love, of Mr Carre for companionship, for togetherness, that is important.
As far as the content, we again sympathise hugely with Mrs Carre, who is in many ways the emotional heart of the film. Sylvie Testud's performance is quiet and cold, we study her as much as we feel with her.
Again, this film is one of the finest of, frankly, modern European film making. What may look slow from the outside is in fact never long enough; beautifully timed shots studying the look of life. The quiet, the in-betweens. We remain with some sensational final shots. The wonderfully entertaining and catchy, but idiotic, karaoke, and that look at Testud, whose thoughts we are asked to infer, the most powerful way.
A Man Escaped
1956 movie from Robert Bresson, seen as one of his finest films, and one of the more popular films he made.
This characterisation makes sense, as this is the Bresson film, perhaps, most easy to decipher. We are not caught in a kind of minimalist extinguishing of all the signs that could lead to meaning. Instead, we know what the central tension-filled excercise is, and what it represents; the religious symbolism is clear, the search for enlightenment and redemption, who can be taken with, how must one try, how may one get there?
The techniques are classic Bresson. The scenes are short, there are shots of inanimate objects which give a certain amount of woodenness to the whole proceeding. One of the more interesting aspects here is how much of the time is spent examing our hero's back; as almost though he wants to hide from us. In fact, the precise reasoning for this is difficult. The lighting effects also have an interest; Bresson may argue that he is simplistic in his shot selection (he is in fact not, his deliberate lack of artifice in fact draws attention to his direction more than usual), but that does not mean he is powerful, with great contrasts, in his lighting.
This film has a powerful sense of excitement, with a real lead up. In fact, the cumulative effect of such a lpowerful lead up makes the end all the more exciting; a particular thrill in the hugely difficult to access emotionally Bresson.
And we could not mention Bresson without the sound; here we have the keys that rattle, immensely powerfully. The sound is used as a source of tension here, the silences never just 'backdrop' but always a presenence in their quiet; something solid to be broken.
An accesible film from Bresson, making it simple and perhaps slightly less layered, but more pure enjoyable than usual.
This characterisation makes sense, as this is the Bresson film, perhaps, most easy to decipher. We are not caught in a kind of minimalist extinguishing of all the signs that could lead to meaning. Instead, we know what the central tension-filled excercise is, and what it represents; the religious symbolism is clear, the search for enlightenment and redemption, who can be taken with, how must one try, how may one get there?
The techniques are classic Bresson. The scenes are short, there are shots of inanimate objects which give a certain amount of woodenness to the whole proceeding. One of the more interesting aspects here is how much of the time is spent examing our hero's back; as almost though he wants to hide from us. In fact, the precise reasoning for this is difficult. The lighting effects also have an interest; Bresson may argue that he is simplistic in his shot selection (he is in fact not, his deliberate lack of artifice in fact draws attention to his direction more than usual), but that does not mean he is powerful, with great contrasts, in his lighting.
This film has a powerful sense of excitement, with a real lead up. In fact, the cumulative effect of such a lpowerful lead up makes the end all the more exciting; a particular thrill in the hugely difficult to access emotionally Bresson.
And we could not mention Bresson without the sound; here we have the keys that rattle, immensely powerfully. The sound is used as a source of tension here, the silences never just 'backdrop' but always a presenence in their quiet; something solid to be broken.
An accesible film from Bresson, making it simple and perhaps slightly less layered, but more pure enjoyable than usual.
Friday 22 October 2010
Katalin Varga
2009 film from Romania, but directed by the Brit Peter Strickland. Seen as one of the better tiny budget films of the past few years.
This is undoubtedly a gothic piece of work. It deliberately crackles onto us, both formally and in its content? How does it do this? The settings of the shadows striking, the cobwebby forests. The plot is in a way very stylised, our lead even referencing the idea of a witch.
Perhaps this film may have worked slightly better had it in fact gone the whole gothic hog; it does not though do so. We have some touching and interesting scenes of the lead's relationship with her son, along with interesting riffs on feminism, masculinty, other things. If the film had been pure and sharp like this (not any shorter; it's a little too short as it is) then perhaps it would have held the attention slightly better. Then again, it would have lost these interesting realist elements. Would it would have prevented, which is a problem, is how some scenes do individually drag. As a whole, the film paces itself very well, but some scenes, rather than shots, simply are too long, while others are too short. The film as a whole is actually a little short, more lead up may have added more weight, make it less gothic and spikey, though it would then have lost its fable quality.
Let us look at some of the interesting formal elements in this film. We love how the British director had the imagination to do this, really respect that he tried to do something. Perhaps we would have liked even more of this. The deliberate colour contrasts, of the sharp brights at the start moving to the greys as she must leave the idyll, is well done. It is one of a number of deliberately jarring effects, we're especially thinking about the cuts which is clearly meant to jolt, to 'snap' us, part of the gothic atmosphere. The difference between hand-held P.O.V. work, and the wide, brooding mountain scenes with smoke, is accentuated by the scene, the only connection scene, where one cascades into another. Sometimes, Stickland falls into a trap of chucking in some 'beautiful images' around a plot, so we especially appreciated when the two come together in this key shot.
The sounstrack is deliberately ratcheting up the diagetic sound, with cracks and clicks and various noises. This is partly just an effect, but on occassion works, if at other times its concatation with music can be melodramatic.
What about the themes? This is a film with an interesting feminist slant, which sits, perhaps a little uneasily, between its universal quality as a fable and its very much immanenet depiction of modern day Romania, the povery and the life there.
We didn't love this film, we appreciated the intelligent attempts formalism, but felt it couldn't quite find its way onto either of the two stools it sits between.
This is undoubtedly a gothic piece of work. It deliberately crackles onto us, both formally and in its content? How does it do this? The settings of the shadows striking, the cobwebby forests. The plot is in a way very stylised, our lead even referencing the idea of a witch.
Perhaps this film may have worked slightly better had it in fact gone the whole gothic hog; it does not though do so. We have some touching and interesting scenes of the lead's relationship with her son, along with interesting riffs on feminism, masculinty, other things. If the film had been pure and sharp like this (not any shorter; it's a little too short as it is) then perhaps it would have held the attention slightly better. Then again, it would have lost these interesting realist elements. Would it would have prevented, which is a problem, is how some scenes do individually drag. As a whole, the film paces itself very well, but some scenes, rather than shots, simply are too long, while others are too short. The film as a whole is actually a little short, more lead up may have added more weight, make it less gothic and spikey, though it would then have lost its fable quality.
Let us look at some of the interesting formal elements in this film. We love how the British director had the imagination to do this, really respect that he tried to do something. Perhaps we would have liked even more of this. The deliberate colour contrasts, of the sharp brights at the start moving to the greys as she must leave the idyll, is well done. It is one of a number of deliberately jarring effects, we're especially thinking about the cuts which is clearly meant to jolt, to 'snap' us, part of the gothic atmosphere. The difference between hand-held P.O.V. work, and the wide, brooding mountain scenes with smoke, is accentuated by the scene, the only connection scene, where one cascades into another. Sometimes, Stickland falls into a trap of chucking in some 'beautiful images' around a plot, so we especially appreciated when the two come together in this key shot.
The sounstrack is deliberately ratcheting up the diagetic sound, with cracks and clicks and various noises. This is partly just an effect, but on occassion works, if at other times its concatation with music can be melodramatic.
What about the themes? This is a film with an interesting feminist slant, which sits, perhaps a little uneasily, between its universal quality as a fable and its very much immanenet depiction of modern day Romania, the povery and the life there.
We didn't love this film, we appreciated the intelligent attempts formalism, but felt it couldn't quite find its way onto either of the two stools it sits between.
Wednesday 20 October 2010
Three Colours: Red
The final film, in 1994, of Kieslowski's trilogy. This is an excellent film, perhaps the most rounded and satisfying in the series. It is not necessarilly 'better', but it is at least the equal of each of the other films in the trilogy.
We have throughout been rather confused by the very simple nature of the direction, the close-ups and the wider shots, identifaction usually, not hugely excited formalism in framing. This simplicity extends to the montage; Kieslowski gives us quite a simple chronological time, nicely done. The entire film is, then, in the frame. The light and the action, the plot, it is all within the confines of the frame itself. This makes it peculiarly plot-centric. It shows Kieslowski is a master at a number of styles; 'Veronique' being one of the most ingenious arthouse films (with a capital A ) in its use of imagery, symbolism and montage, it is a real show of range, if a tiny little dissapointing in that it did not quite meet those expectations.
We again have the use of the title colour in the film. This has obvious emotional resonaces, even, if it is a little bit of a game Kieslowski is playing.
This films major theme is of how much do you really want to know? Where does public meet the private, where do the bounds of society lie? All tackled fascinatingly, much within a political perspective too. The lead female and male are both utterly terrific; their relationship is genuinely touching, it confounds expectations, it is a great relationship of realist understatement. It chimes utterly, it has a certain heaviness to it that is built up through small effects throughout the running time. We end up considering what is it like to live with others, what is a stranger, what is a fellow citizen. Yes, we must love, but what is this? Why?
The last five mintutes could perhaps be done without, a little bit overwrought and too neat.
This film has been very different from expected, much neater formally, much less arthouse than expected. We had three snappy and fast films, plot driven. In each, though, resonated wider hours which would take hours, lifetimes, never, to pull apart. Rightly recognised as a fine collection of work.
We have throughout been rather confused by the very simple nature of the direction, the close-ups and the wider shots, identifaction usually, not hugely excited formalism in framing. This simplicity extends to the montage; Kieslowski gives us quite a simple chronological time, nicely done. The entire film is, then, in the frame. The light and the action, the plot, it is all within the confines of the frame itself. This makes it peculiarly plot-centric. It shows Kieslowski is a master at a number of styles; 'Veronique' being one of the most ingenious arthouse films (with a capital A ) in its use of imagery, symbolism and montage, it is a real show of range, if a tiny little dissapointing in that it did not quite meet those expectations.
We again have the use of the title colour in the film. This has obvious emotional resonaces, even, if it is a little bit of a game Kieslowski is playing.
This films major theme is of how much do you really want to know? Where does public meet the private, where do the bounds of society lie? All tackled fascinatingly, much within a political perspective too. The lead female and male are both utterly terrific; their relationship is genuinely touching, it confounds expectations, it is a great relationship of realist understatement. It chimes utterly, it has a certain heaviness to it that is built up through small effects throughout the running time. We end up considering what is it like to live with others, what is a stranger, what is a fellow citizen. Yes, we must love, but what is this? Why?
The last five mintutes could perhaps be done without, a little bit overwrought and too neat.
This film has been very different from expected, much neater formally, much less arthouse than expected. We had three snappy and fast films, plot driven. In each, though, resonated wider hours which would take hours, lifetimes, never, to pull apart. Rightly recognised as a fine collection of work.
Tuesday 19 October 2010
Three Colours: White
The middle part, still in 1993, from Kieslowski. A slightly oddball picture, nearly even a comedy at times, with some weird psychological undercurrents.
Being white, we have the easiest way to have the colour scheme. We have the exposure technque, so that the white shines through, especially in the the snow. Thus we have a slightly hazy, even woozy feel to this at times, along with a slight delicacy, emphasised by the wonderfully shot blonde hair and pale palour of Julie Delpy.
This film is, again, technically, rather simple. Again, strange from the director one may think. Let us focus on the ideological and symbolic elements then. The key theme of this film is something out of nothing, something out of the whiteness. It is about wondering where things come from, and what we can create. Whether it is ever possible to have this something, coming from nothing.
This is a film about a man and his desires. It is about his phantasys in a properly Freudian sense, about his projections as he wishes to somehow create his desires. A political tone is certainbly here; in the conjunction of east and west, Poland and France, we have a man who has lost his desire in his move from the communist fold. We have the weird creation he must have. We have the incredible element of voyeurism; he is voyeur on every level, throughout every aspect of his relationship. He only seems able to function when he is a voyeur, that is the only time is repressed desire can be released in a culturally prescribed way.
This film is a kind of black comedy, and is in fact a little bit ridiculous. Probably remembered more as a curio, which one could write a Lacan essay about, it is nevertheless rather fun to sit through. Roll on the finale.
Being white, we have the easiest way to have the colour scheme. We have the exposure technque, so that the white shines through, especially in the the snow. Thus we have a slightly hazy, even woozy feel to this at times, along with a slight delicacy, emphasised by the wonderfully shot blonde hair and pale palour of Julie Delpy.
This film is, again, technically, rather simple. Again, strange from the director one may think. Let us focus on the ideological and symbolic elements then. The key theme of this film is something out of nothing, something out of the whiteness. It is about wondering where things come from, and what we can create. Whether it is ever possible to have this something, coming from nothing.
This is a film about a man and his desires. It is about his phantasys in a properly Freudian sense, about his projections as he wishes to somehow create his desires. A political tone is certainbly here; in the conjunction of east and west, Poland and France, we have a man who has lost his desire in his move from the communist fold. We have the weird creation he must have. We have the incredible element of voyeurism; he is voyeur on every level, throughout every aspect of his relationship. He only seems able to function when he is a voyeur, that is the only time is repressed desire can be released in a culturally prescribed way.
This film is a kind of black comedy, and is in fact a little bit ridiculous. Probably remembered more as a curio, which one could write a Lacan essay about, it is nevertheless rather fun to sit through. Roll on the finale.
Monday 18 October 2010
Three Colours: Blue
The first film in Kieslowski's 1993-1994 'Three Colours' trilogy, seen as one of the finest film series in modern cinema. This opening piece was a very good fine, enjoyed, with a fine central performance, well and not overdone, by Julliette Binoche.
Among Kieslowski's visual tics is his use of two seperate colours, in fact these are the key visual motifs of the film. The colours are the blue of the title, and a soft orange. In faact, all of Kieslowski's colours are rather soft. The blue clearly represents Binoche's inner coldness, after the disaster. The orange reflects a number of interesting motfs; the freedom and happiness in sunshine, to start. But as we see it happen in the case of the bottlebank scene, it is also the colour of forgetting, of ignoring what is immanent and should be important.
The lighting is often under Binoche, giving an interesting effect we haven't seen much elsewhere. There is softness and a beauty, with also a certain amount of substance and stature. An interesting combination. Kieslowski is also keen, with his use of two sidelights, to shadow Binoche's features, to give her face and body a depth. The way that this is shown is also through long shots, certainly through filters and perhaps even through glass, oddly. We have long exposures which makes the whole excercise grainy, soft. This allows a real play of light; often refracted light.
We are, with the help of this, and with the frequent close ups and camera behind her, getting on with some serious identification of the Binoche. The direction is pretty simple, with wider shots and then the close ups. After 'The Double Life Of Veronique', this more simplistic turn comes as a surprise, partly from the fact that this is one of three films, so less is thrown in the pot, even less time perhaps. The film, to go with this simple direction, is fast and surprisingly snappy. For all the art-house baggage, this is a sharp, snappily plotted. This makes the excercise avoid bathos, which a certainly dramatic musical score could eak on. Kieslowski is one of the masters of using classic music in his films (remembered from 'Veronique'), here in a shorter film it could be over the top, but it is saved.
What for the themes? This is the film of freedom and even selfishness. It is a film about ideology, that could even be read politically. What is the past? What does it want? Kieslowski is not going to make things simple, he realises the complexities of the issues of freedom. A film of layers.
So we enjoyed this film, and were surprised by the directness of it. A very good start.
Among Kieslowski's visual tics is his use of two seperate colours, in fact these are the key visual motifs of the film. The colours are the blue of the title, and a soft orange. In faact, all of Kieslowski's colours are rather soft. The blue clearly represents Binoche's inner coldness, after the disaster. The orange reflects a number of interesting motfs; the freedom and happiness in sunshine, to start. But as we see it happen in the case of the bottlebank scene, it is also the colour of forgetting, of ignoring what is immanent and should be important.
The lighting is often under Binoche, giving an interesting effect we haven't seen much elsewhere. There is softness and a beauty, with also a certain amount of substance and stature. An interesting combination. Kieslowski is also keen, with his use of two sidelights, to shadow Binoche's features, to give her face and body a depth. The way that this is shown is also through long shots, certainly through filters and perhaps even through glass, oddly. We have long exposures which makes the whole excercise grainy, soft. This allows a real play of light; often refracted light.
We are, with the help of this, and with the frequent close ups and camera behind her, getting on with some serious identification of the Binoche. The direction is pretty simple, with wider shots and then the close ups. After 'The Double Life Of Veronique', this more simplistic turn comes as a surprise, partly from the fact that this is one of three films, so less is thrown in the pot, even less time perhaps. The film, to go with this simple direction, is fast and surprisingly snappy. For all the art-house baggage, this is a sharp, snappily plotted. This makes the excercise avoid bathos, which a certainly dramatic musical score could eak on. Kieslowski is one of the masters of using classic music in his films (remembered from 'Veronique'), here in a shorter film it could be over the top, but it is saved.
What for the themes? This is the film of freedom and even selfishness. It is a film about ideology, that could even be read politically. What is the past? What does it want? Kieslowski is not going to make things simple, he realises the complexities of the issues of freedom. A film of layers.
So we enjoyed this film, and were surprised by the directness of it. A very good start.
Saturday 16 October 2010
Throne Of Blood
Kurosawa's 1957 adaption of Macbeth. It is a wonderful piece of cinema, a genuinely weighty and powerful masterpiece.
This is Kurosawa's coldest film, firstly we would say due to the mis-en scene. The grey fogs which scatters the light for no eyes to see. The endless confusion of the horse coming towards us, then going away. The characters are either caight in the rooms, or caught in this horribly flat, pale fog. The shots are wide and alienate the characters, again lost in the enviroment. Kurosawa allows little to no empathy, the cool and icy picturing being a change from his usual more active camera. We also have this sense from the music, more bare, certainly not over-intrusive or leading.
The acting is wonderful. Mifune looks older, but he does what he always does, seems to almost vibrate on screen. He does not steal the light always from Kurosawa's sets, but he does always demand attention among the humans. Other characters are equally well sketched, the 'witch' has a slow, horribly white transluscence. The most impressive performance though is by the character of Lady Macbeth. The slow, spidery feel of hers at once cuts to the bone and suggests, from the very outset, madness. The shuffling, with the sound effects and the slow, slow movement, is unnerving and creepy from the first. As is the make-up, and the eerily deliberate dialgoue. One of the scariest screen portrayals we can remember seeing.
With the greatest dramatist ever doing the pacing, Kurosawa couldn't really go wrong, and he doesn't, selecting the correct scenes. It is at once simple but, again, with layers.
Kurosawa's Shakespearean cinema, using the same styles of boldness which works on one level with the subtledties behind if one wishes to see. The images have endless reboundings; few more than the at once obscene, wild, overdramatic, and yet tragic, final scene.
This film is perhaps (with 'Ran', 'The Bad Sleep Well' and some Olivier) the finest Shakespeare adaption we know. Kurosawa, not making a typical Kurosawa film, but rising to around his best.
This is Kurosawa's coldest film, firstly we would say due to the mis-en scene. The grey fogs which scatters the light for no eyes to see. The endless confusion of the horse coming towards us, then going away. The characters are either caight in the rooms, or caught in this horribly flat, pale fog. The shots are wide and alienate the characters, again lost in the enviroment. Kurosawa allows little to no empathy, the cool and icy picturing being a change from his usual more active camera. We also have this sense from the music, more bare, certainly not over-intrusive or leading.
The acting is wonderful. Mifune looks older, but he does what he always does, seems to almost vibrate on screen. He does not steal the light always from Kurosawa's sets, but he does always demand attention among the humans. Other characters are equally well sketched, the 'witch' has a slow, horribly white transluscence. The most impressive performance though is by the character of Lady Macbeth. The slow, spidery feel of hers at once cuts to the bone and suggests, from the very outset, madness. The shuffling, with the sound effects and the slow, slow movement, is unnerving and creepy from the first. As is the make-up, and the eerily deliberate dialgoue. One of the scariest screen portrayals we can remember seeing.
With the greatest dramatist ever doing the pacing, Kurosawa couldn't really go wrong, and he doesn't, selecting the correct scenes. It is at once simple but, again, with layers.
Kurosawa's Shakespearean cinema, using the same styles of boldness which works on one level with the subtledties behind if one wishes to see. The images have endless reboundings; few more than the at once obscene, wild, overdramatic, and yet tragic, final scene.
This film is perhaps (with 'Ran', 'The Bad Sleep Well' and some Olivier) the finest Shakespeare adaption we know. Kurosawa, not making a typical Kurosawa film, but rising to around his best.
Lemon Tree
Palestinian film, recently released.
This film has two specially interesting aspects; firstly the great contrast of colours. This has the lemons standing out, it gives a sort of vivid hyperreal feel. It is part of the overarching thought of the film, that the director here may have an impressive career in front of them. The use of almost Renoir-esque elegance in camera movement, pushing between the groves, is smart. Most of the camera work may be simple back and forth, identificatory or P.O.V., but there are enough signs that more is going on elsewhere.
We'd also like to mention the pacing. This film very very quickly gives it set-up, which can mean it seems to rather lack weight as the more peripatetic central characterisation scenes. One rather wonders why the structural pacing wasn't reversed, but there we are.
This film has fine acting and an interesting political message. Maybe a little overcooked with all the parallels/ coincidences, but a few signs of a genuinely interesting visual sense holds out more than hope. A nice film.
This film has two specially interesting aspects; firstly the great contrast of colours. This has the lemons standing out, it gives a sort of vivid hyperreal feel. It is part of the overarching thought of the film, that the director here may have an impressive career in front of them. The use of almost Renoir-esque elegance in camera movement, pushing between the groves, is smart. Most of the camera work may be simple back and forth, identificatory or P.O.V., but there are enough signs that more is going on elsewhere.
We'd also like to mention the pacing. This film very very quickly gives it set-up, which can mean it seems to rather lack weight as the more peripatetic central characterisation scenes. One rather wonders why the structural pacing wasn't reversed, but there we are.
This film has fine acting and an interesting political message. Maybe a little overcooked with all the parallels/ coincidences, but a few signs of a genuinely interesting visual sense holds out more than hope. A nice film.
The Hidden Fortress
1958 Kurosawa film, so a couple of films before 'Yojimbo'. Not his best, but of course it is still fine, with some wonderful shots.
Again we have the bold images, many from below the character in question, where they stand out strongly against a plae and overexposed background. This is done especially strongly here with the evocation against the dirty and windswept background. There is also a sensational action scene on the steps, Kurosawa having the nerve to use a still camera amongst the fast action.
The reason this movie doesn't quite work as well as it could is the central conceit of following the farmers. These are the greedy fools we see elsewhere (in Shaekspeare, as others), who we think we are going to follow. Kurosawa though seems to realise there is only so much he can get out of these people, adn he eventually has to twist and turn and twist and turn that, ultimately, becomes rather too much. This film would be better off with a purer thesis in its analysis of greed, rather than the over-complex views we have at the end.
Kurosawa moves towards more the character of Mifune, who adopts a nice, distant, heroic stance. The structure is put together very nicely, though we feel that the producers may have added a few touches Kurosawa would not necessarily have himself.
A work also on the music. It is seemingly leading the audience, which isn't ideal, and can seem rather flippant and a little silly. It has two uses; to deliberately lighten the tone, and to again give an element of artifice.
As we said, it becomes a little too twisty and loses the purity of its moral message. But the road trip structure is fine, and there are interesting scenes.
Again we have the bold images, many from below the character in question, where they stand out strongly against a plae and overexposed background. This is done especially strongly here with the evocation against the dirty and windswept background. There is also a sensational action scene on the steps, Kurosawa having the nerve to use a still camera amongst the fast action.
The reason this movie doesn't quite work as well as it could is the central conceit of following the farmers. These are the greedy fools we see elsewhere (in Shaekspeare, as others), who we think we are going to follow. Kurosawa though seems to realise there is only so much he can get out of these people, adn he eventually has to twist and turn and twist and turn that, ultimately, becomes rather too much. This film would be better off with a purer thesis in its analysis of greed, rather than the over-complex views we have at the end.
Kurosawa moves towards more the character of Mifune, who adopts a nice, distant, heroic stance. The structure is put together very nicely, though we feel that the producers may have added a few touches Kurosawa would not necessarily have himself.
A work also on the music. It is seemingly leading the audience, which isn't ideal, and can seem rather flippant and a little silly. It has two uses; to deliberately lighten the tone, and to again give an element of artifice.
As we said, it becomes a little too twisty and loses the purity of its moral message. But the road trip structure is fine, and there are interesting scenes.
Tuesday 12 October 2010
Yojimbo
Kurosawa's 1961 movie, the inspiration for 'Fistful Of Dollars'. It is clearly a wonderful film, but not always entirely what one respects.
It is not a word we throw around lightly, but we will say it for Kurosawa; he is genuinely a Shakespearean director. This is in the boldness of his images, the fact that there is the surface lack of subtedly and the power of the images. Underneath that, of course there are as many layers as you like of intelligence and subtedly. There in those same mixtures of servants and kings, humour and pathos.
The bold images come much from underexposure. Rested against the pale backdrops, the dark characters quite literally loom large, with large faces. In 'Yojimbo' Kurosawa shoots froma mixture of identifying/mysterious hand-cam following our hero, and some portraiture. Indeed, he has a relation to Flemish and Baroque portraiture (wider than Fellini). There is some wonderful, humanistic balancing of the large shapes of the characters. The way he sets them up is wonderful, but the fact is that we are close enough for this not to impede with over-formalism on the plot.
Kurosawa is the great director also of using a mix of different shots. He is happy to have some of these severe close ups, behind or on the face. He uses rapid camera movement. The again, he has wonderful wide images, with the wind blowing the dust. This gives a wonderful sense of an out-of-shot quiet, of the whole world being still among the action and violence he loves.
This film is surprisingly funny. It has a lightness of tone, which add to the almost deliberate artifice of the piece. There is a certain staginess, a theatricality to the piece, even evident in the plot. This is a fascinating move; Kurosawa perhaps suggesting that each character is, in a way, dressing up.
This isn't Kurosawa's most weighty film on the surface, but in hindsight there is enough here for more careful study. A key film, and a real pleasure and joy to watch.
It is not a word we throw around lightly, but we will say it for Kurosawa; he is genuinely a Shakespearean director. This is in the boldness of his images, the fact that there is the surface lack of subtedly and the power of the images. Underneath that, of course there are as many layers as you like of intelligence and subtedly. There in those same mixtures of servants and kings, humour and pathos.
The bold images come much from underexposure. Rested against the pale backdrops, the dark characters quite literally loom large, with large faces. In 'Yojimbo' Kurosawa shoots froma mixture of identifying/mysterious hand-cam following our hero, and some portraiture. Indeed, he has a relation to Flemish and Baroque portraiture (wider than Fellini). There is some wonderful, humanistic balancing of the large shapes of the characters. The way he sets them up is wonderful, but the fact is that we are close enough for this not to impede with over-formalism on the plot.
Kurosawa is the great director also of using a mix of different shots. He is happy to have some of these severe close ups, behind or on the face. He uses rapid camera movement. The again, he has wonderful wide images, with the wind blowing the dust. This gives a wonderful sense of an out-of-shot quiet, of the whole world being still among the action and violence he loves.
This film is surprisingly funny. It has a lightness of tone, which add to the almost deliberate artifice of the piece. There is a certain staginess, a theatricality to the piece, even evident in the plot. This is a fascinating move; Kurosawa perhaps suggesting that each character is, in a way, dressing up.
This isn't Kurosawa's most weighty film on the surface, but in hindsight there is enough here for more careful study. A key film, and a real pleasure and joy to watch.
Saturday 9 October 2010
Weekend
A 1967 piece of deliberately provocative cinema from Jean-Luc Godard.
This really a very difficult film to get our heads around. It deliberately, and quite explictly tells us, it wants to do away with narrative and other particular strictures. The narrative flies in different directions, it has angry, agressive scenes which don't fit together. It speaks to us, it ignores us, it has non-sequiters with rarely going into surrealism.
There are some striking individual scenes, the long long shot of the car jam is exciting, is interesting. It is deliberately provocative of the audience.
In a similar vein is the idea that all the characters are trying to kill each other. The way they are otherwise portrayed normally is meant surely to shine back on the audience.
Frankly, we do not quite get Godard yet. We understand and appreciate how he is trying to be provocative, breaking down the montage and the nature of cinema when it tries to portray 'excitement' (the scene in the sillouhetted room, discussing the sexual encounter). We can struggle though to even get much of a thematic link, even one meant to annoy us. Would this be better on paper? One may need a sheet to follow it, but not necessarilly. More time, we think.
This really a very difficult film to get our heads around. It deliberately, and quite explictly tells us, it wants to do away with narrative and other particular strictures. The narrative flies in different directions, it has angry, agressive scenes which don't fit together. It speaks to us, it ignores us, it has non-sequiters with rarely going into surrealism.
There are some striking individual scenes, the long long shot of the car jam is exciting, is interesting. It is deliberately provocative of the audience.
In a similar vein is the idea that all the characters are trying to kill each other. The way they are otherwise portrayed normally is meant surely to shine back on the audience.
Frankly, we do not quite get Godard yet. We understand and appreciate how he is trying to be provocative, breaking down the montage and the nature of cinema when it tries to portray 'excitement' (the scene in the sillouhetted room, discussing the sexual encounter). We can struggle though to even get much of a thematic link, even one meant to annoy us. Would this be better on paper? One may need a sheet to follow it, but not necessarilly. More time, we think.
Thursday 7 October 2010
Idioterne (The Idiots)
Lars Von Trier's famous 1998 work, celebrated as the crucial, and one of the founding, sources in the 'Dogme 95' movement.
This film is a very well told narrative. That is, Von Trier simply knows how to cut at a good speed. He is smart at knowing when to begin and ened cuts and shots, or rather we mean smart in the sense that scenes taken on their own don't drag.
Due to the techincal aspects this film is shot in a, in fact, rather boring way. It is the wider shots when inside, then the mid shots on the outside, mixed in with close-ups for the emotional scenes. The deliberate limitations of the 'dispositif' of Dogme doesn't really change much at all (apart from production costs, which is an admirable goal). We have the same thoughts on the montage, the shot length and framing, as elsewhere.
The problem with this film is really that it is far too long. It is an idea that can simply only last an hour, and this film does really drag. This does not mean that there are not scenes at the end just as good as those at the start. Everything is done well, but parts of the general arc are simply not enough to sustain a 109 mintue narrative.
The ideas behind this film are really rather interesting. As a study of disability it deliberately shocks, it is also very self-relexive in so far as looking at the camera. Why are we doing this, why are we looking at them at all? The idea of hosting a revolution, and the failures of that, seem to be a comment on the Dogme style itself.
An interesting movie, but one that really needs one more idea to add to its already good ones.
This film is a very well told narrative. That is, Von Trier simply knows how to cut at a good speed. He is smart at knowing when to begin and ened cuts and shots, or rather we mean smart in the sense that scenes taken on their own don't drag.
Due to the techincal aspects this film is shot in a, in fact, rather boring way. It is the wider shots when inside, then the mid shots on the outside, mixed in with close-ups for the emotional scenes. The deliberate limitations of the 'dispositif' of Dogme doesn't really change much at all (apart from production costs, which is an admirable goal). We have the same thoughts on the montage, the shot length and framing, as elsewhere.
The problem with this film is really that it is far too long. It is an idea that can simply only last an hour, and this film does really drag. This does not mean that there are not scenes at the end just as good as those at the start. Everything is done well, but parts of the general arc are simply not enough to sustain a 109 mintue narrative.
The ideas behind this film are really rather interesting. As a study of disability it deliberately shocks, it is also very self-relexive in so far as looking at the camera. Why are we doing this, why are we looking at them at all? The idea of hosting a revolution, and the failures of that, seem to be a comment on the Dogme style itself.
An interesting movie, but one that really needs one more idea to add to its already good ones.
Wednesday 6 October 2010
Jean Vigo: Short Films
Three short films by the French director Jean Vigo, his only work (along with 'L'Atalante') due to his untimely death.
A Propos de Nice (1930, Documentary): A short documentary abour neice, silent. This isn't particularly engaging, but technically it is very interesting, and can become even mesmerising. The use of the eagle eye view is the ultimate use of the overhead angle. Indeed, again this film has a hug amount of interest i.e. angle. We have the overheads but here the most interesting shots are perhaps those that look up. A technique usually used to convey power, omniscience, on this occassion it is used to seemingly egg the people portrayed on, as they believe that they are above, but in fact are taken as simply objects. The camera, despite being in this position and not moving, seems to almost leer at the girls. It is the example of Vigo's belief in something beyond a simple humanism; the way he is able to let, from simply his P.O.V., the characters portray and fail themselves.
The use of montage is confusing but at times powerful. It is clearly expressionist, perhaps even surrealist, and often provocative. Suggestions of a Potemkin-like geometry are there, but as are other aspects we find it difficult to identify.
Again, with Vigo we notice the speed of the action, the again eerie nature of extra speed.
Taris (1931, Documentary): A very short film about a swimmer. This is a film which has some beautiful images of the water and the man in them. It seems to focus more on the water than on the man. The use of the underwater camera is stunning, Vigo has a wonderful underexposed way of letting these have a weight and power all to themselves, the bubble and the splash. We wonder if M. Taris knew he'd be portrayed, as seeimgly is Vigo's motif, as a part of the enviroment, all and only that, all else is hubris.
Zero De Conduite (1933): A longer piece about school. This is at once Vigo's most conventional and most humanistic piece. We have an interesting use of shadow on the face, as well as more close ups. Vigo places more emphasis on long images than usual, the speed displayed elsewhere has slowed. Not hugely interesting, though the story is sweet enough. This film is held in high regard, so we may have missed something.
To be honest, after the wonderful 'L'Atalante' we were a little dissapointed with these films. Examples of Vigo's technqiue they may be, but not a huge amount else.
A Propos de Nice (1930, Documentary): A short documentary abour neice, silent. This isn't particularly engaging, but technically it is very interesting, and can become even mesmerising. The use of the eagle eye view is the ultimate use of the overhead angle. Indeed, again this film has a hug amount of interest i.e. angle. We have the overheads but here the most interesting shots are perhaps those that look up. A technique usually used to convey power, omniscience, on this occassion it is used to seemingly egg the people portrayed on, as they believe that they are above, but in fact are taken as simply objects. The camera, despite being in this position and not moving, seems to almost leer at the girls. It is the example of Vigo's belief in something beyond a simple humanism; the way he is able to let, from simply his P.O.V., the characters portray and fail themselves.
The use of montage is confusing but at times powerful. It is clearly expressionist, perhaps even surrealist, and often provocative. Suggestions of a Potemkin-like geometry are there, but as are other aspects we find it difficult to identify.
Again, with Vigo we notice the speed of the action, the again eerie nature of extra speed.
Taris (1931, Documentary): A very short film about a swimmer. This is a film which has some beautiful images of the water and the man in them. It seems to focus more on the water than on the man. The use of the underwater camera is stunning, Vigo has a wonderful underexposed way of letting these have a weight and power all to themselves, the bubble and the splash. We wonder if M. Taris knew he'd be portrayed, as seeimgly is Vigo's motif, as a part of the enviroment, all and only that, all else is hubris.
Zero De Conduite (1933): A longer piece about school. This is at once Vigo's most conventional and most humanistic piece. We have an interesting use of shadow on the face, as well as more close ups. Vigo places more emphasis on long images than usual, the speed displayed elsewhere has slowed. Not hugely interesting, though the story is sweet enough. This film is held in high regard, so we may have missed something.
To be honest, after the wonderful 'L'Atalante' we were a little dissapointed with these films. Examples of Vigo's technqiue they may be, but not a huge amount else.
Tuesday 5 October 2010
L'Atalante
Jean Vigo's only full length work, his 1934 classic.
Firstly, the technical aspects Vigo uses. He harshly overexposes, leading to lurid white outs on looming dark backgrounds. This is the first of his moves to have the charaters seem unsympathetic, mechanical, manipulated. This is a sign of Vigo's post humanism; his insistence on a lack of agency, the sometimes out of focussed blurred white faces seeming a long long way away.
Indeed they almost literally are, with shots so long as to cause major surprise in a sound film. This is mixed with Vigo's trademark; the angle of shot. Either far above, making them as though puppets, looked down upon, tallying with the omniscient narrative stance that does judge. We also have the belows, that do not make look impressive but do set off against the sky.
Through these techniques Vigo makes for impressive looming images. They go with the nightmarish themes, the confusion and the idiocy. The surrealist flourishes add to a sense of confusion, things going wrong in a dark and irretrivable way. The captain's room scene is stunningl sudden outbursts of dark fleshy violence, constant confusion, the weird distance we feel as the female lead is strangely sexually dominated by all this nastiness.
Vigo also uses the a very quick montage and mis-en-scene. As in Murnau's 'Nosferatu' he recognises how disoonserting this can be, as though the characters come on rails. There is no time to observe or think, it is as though they fall from scene to scene in an ordered, controlled, mechanical drop that they themselves engineer. They do not evade responsbility.
As the film goes on Vigo becomes more sympathetic; some side lighting. He shows how they try, after chronicling the dirt and failure. The scene underwater has what are almost identifying shots; it is a wonderful burst of these lost figure's search, a dream world they must take air from and doesn't really exist. A great scene.
We greatly enjoyed this Vigo film, for its stylistic ability to show a world truly collapsing through its dirt, disharmony, mistakes. He shows how we await rescue, the futiity of the wait. Terrific cinema.
Firstly, the technical aspects Vigo uses. He harshly overexposes, leading to lurid white outs on looming dark backgrounds. This is the first of his moves to have the charaters seem unsympathetic, mechanical, manipulated. This is a sign of Vigo's post humanism; his insistence on a lack of agency, the sometimes out of focussed blurred white faces seeming a long long way away.
Indeed they almost literally are, with shots so long as to cause major surprise in a sound film. This is mixed with Vigo's trademark; the angle of shot. Either far above, making them as though puppets, looked down upon, tallying with the omniscient narrative stance that does judge. We also have the belows, that do not make look impressive but do set off against the sky.
Through these techniques Vigo makes for impressive looming images. They go with the nightmarish themes, the confusion and the idiocy. The surrealist flourishes add to a sense of confusion, things going wrong in a dark and irretrivable way. The captain's room scene is stunningl sudden outbursts of dark fleshy violence, constant confusion, the weird distance we feel as the female lead is strangely sexually dominated by all this nastiness.
Vigo also uses the a very quick montage and mis-en-scene. As in Murnau's 'Nosferatu' he recognises how disoonserting this can be, as though the characters come on rails. There is no time to observe or think, it is as though they fall from scene to scene in an ordered, controlled, mechanical drop that they themselves engineer. They do not evade responsbility.
As the film goes on Vigo becomes more sympathetic; some side lighting. He shows how they try, after chronicling the dirt and failure. The scene underwater has what are almost identifying shots; it is a wonderful burst of these lost figure's search, a dream world they must take air from and doesn't really exist. A great scene.
We greatly enjoyed this Vigo film, for its stylistic ability to show a world truly collapsing through its dirt, disharmony, mistakes. He shows how we await rescue, the futiity of the wait. Terrific cinema.
Monday 4 October 2010
Io Sono L'Amore (I Am Love)
A rather popular recent movie, starring and in many respects a vehicle for, Tilda Swinton.
We shouls start by qualifying; this film isn't completely awful. It is trying to express something real. The landscape is terrific. Kudo for trying to make a highly personal film in the mixture of sweeping camera work and the nearly grainy, hand held style. Swinton has some wonderful, briefly caught, facial expressions. The sets are dressed nice and precisely.
For all these good intentions, it is though a film that is poor, and almost laughably bad at times. Most obviously, it is heavily cliched (lesbian short haired artist daughter? Rain when sadness comes?) It takes its straightforawrd hokum hugely, ridiculously seriously. It is difficult not to laugh at the ridiculous melodrama, of the plot and the sweeping strings.
It is through poor direction that the problems come. The film simply lacks weight. The hand held style does not give us the long establishing shots of characterisation that are required, so that frankly outside of Swinton (who barely scrapes by) no one has a character at all. This is a combination of poor direction, of snatched shots, and of acting that does not seem capable of making anything of this. The narrative lacks focus, not being a straightforward psychological portrait, but too jerky to ever really be a family saga. Along with the portentous tone we really also have a rather banal, completely overdone, 'back to nature' plot.
A poor film, though enjoyable in its laughable banality. Better than cynical trash, but not worth any real praise.
We shouls start by qualifying; this film isn't completely awful. It is trying to express something real. The landscape is terrific. Kudo for trying to make a highly personal film in the mixture of sweeping camera work and the nearly grainy, hand held style. Swinton has some wonderful, briefly caught, facial expressions. The sets are dressed nice and precisely.
For all these good intentions, it is though a film that is poor, and almost laughably bad at times. Most obviously, it is heavily cliched (lesbian short haired artist daughter? Rain when sadness comes?) It takes its straightforawrd hokum hugely, ridiculously seriously. It is difficult not to laugh at the ridiculous melodrama, of the plot and the sweeping strings.
It is through poor direction that the problems come. The film simply lacks weight. The hand held style does not give us the long establishing shots of characterisation that are required, so that frankly outside of Swinton (who barely scrapes by) no one has a character at all. This is a combination of poor direction, of snatched shots, and of acting that does not seem capable of making anything of this. The narrative lacks focus, not being a straightforward psychological portrait, but too jerky to ever really be a family saga. Along with the portentous tone we really also have a rather banal, completely overdone, 'back to nature' plot.
A poor film, though enjoyable in its laughable banality. Better than cynical trash, but not worth any real praise.
Politist, Adjectiv (Police, Adjective)
We had to go and have another look.
Just a few extra things to say. On second viewing it loses nothing. It goes faster, it leads up in a kind of delayed climax until the final scene that is only becoming more powerful. The fine central performance stands well. We see some real resonances of a 'K', Kafka-esque figure in the portrayal. The lack of excitement with the changes, the figure of the unhelpful, almost comic assistant, and of course the endless rooms.
The sense of place is well done. The endless doors of the police station, the repititive similarity of the rooms, contrasts well with the pointless airiness of the outdoors. We go from the vertiginous horror of huge grey skys to characters crampt, bent overm compressed in the enviroments.
Visually, we look at the way the lead adopts a similar plane across the screen. From top left he skulks in, moving down to bottom right, up to and across the camera. Sometimes they have an axis in front, giving a perspective of people caught in the crowd.
This is a film where we atch someone watching. The sheer pointlessness of this excercise echoes the sheer pointlessness of the search. These questions resonate throughout the whole movie. What is the point of this? Why are we watching this?
And yet we do. The answer to these questions are that we watch because it is one of the finest movies of the year, its ability to snatch a futile beauty always crsuhed, always present in the contemplation. A piece of slow cinema, a piece of meditation. Very funny, very beautiful, worth seeing again and again.
Just a few extra things to say. On second viewing it loses nothing. It goes faster, it leads up in a kind of delayed climax until the final scene that is only becoming more powerful. The fine central performance stands well. We see some real resonances of a 'K', Kafka-esque figure in the portrayal. The lack of excitement with the changes, the figure of the unhelpful, almost comic assistant, and of course the endless rooms.
The sense of place is well done. The endless doors of the police station, the repititive similarity of the rooms, contrasts well with the pointless airiness of the outdoors. We go from the vertiginous horror of huge grey skys to characters crampt, bent overm compressed in the enviroments.
Visually, we look at the way the lead adopts a similar plane across the screen. From top left he skulks in, moving down to bottom right, up to and across the camera. Sometimes they have an axis in front, giving a perspective of people caught in the crowd.
This is a film where we atch someone watching. The sheer pointlessness of this excercise echoes the sheer pointlessness of the search. These questions resonate throughout the whole movie. What is the point of this? Why are we watching this?
And yet we do. The answer to these questions are that we watch because it is one of the finest movies of the year, its ability to snatch a futile beauty always crsuhed, always present in the contemplation. A piece of slow cinema, a piece of meditation. Very funny, very beautiful, worth seeing again and again.
Dolls
2002 movie from Takeshi Kitano, whose previously viewed work, 'Hana-Bi', is one of our finest, favourite films. And here, he has created another near masterpiece, full of beauty, thought, and so far from melodrama but so encased in the strains of human life, the emotion and pricking of balloons that that entails.
The three plots fit together, and are good enough on their own. The central story has again that wonderful deadpan aspect we love so much in Kitano, the idea of a vast undercurrent that all the characters know and are happy to recognise are their, but do not necessarilly feel the need or know how to react to it. The simply let it go on, as it must.
Let us look at the thematics of the dolls. This firstly gives us a fascinating metaphor where we have the characters who act as though they are being led on strings. They do silly things, they are played around with by fate, by the gods. The literal act of walking, important here in the wandering and in the connection, the ties to each other, show how each is leashed to each other, with a puppetmaster of history and future leading the way onwards.
Aesthetically, the piece also works well by the Dolls metaphor. The costumes are literally colourful, they are though most of all theatrical. Theatre is a crucial theme here. The idea that the characters are being played on a stage, in fact the whole piece is one big stage. The primary colours that shine out from the enviroment, as though highlighted or put in with a felt tip pen. The wonderlands of the bright seasons behind, deliberately slightly comic book, but still close enough to realism in Kitano's distinctive technique.
We have fallen in love with Kitano's direction. Not just the colour of the mis-en-scene and so on, which we mentioned, but also his use of the inscrutable acting. His real genius though is knowing what to capture, how to capture it, and for how long. His use of montage isn't all that slow, but he throws in images from a variety of P.O.V. and other angles that do take one by surprise, while never jarring. How to swtich from a leaf to an emotion, then a move backwards or forwards in time, is an art. It is clear that Kitano is a visual artist, the use of surprise particularly. He frames it in a mixture of long shots, where we have a great sense of place, and a nice sense of putting different actors on scene together which gives a real sense of togetherness and congruity, even though we live in a word where people do seem to find themselves, doll-like, far apart.
Kitano is the master of timing, and what he chooses to time, though it often seems odd and is on paper quite 'arty', is in fact a beautifully wide ranging array of various images. He has the full range of movement and style at his disposal, and puts them together in a simple way. He finds emotion in an emotionless world, so memorable.
We have seen two Kitano films. So far, two out of two. Wonderful, fine entertainment to go with one of the finest cinematic artists.
The three plots fit together, and are good enough on their own. The central story has again that wonderful deadpan aspect we love so much in Kitano, the idea of a vast undercurrent that all the characters know and are happy to recognise are their, but do not necessarilly feel the need or know how to react to it. The simply let it go on, as it must.
Let us look at the thematics of the dolls. This firstly gives us a fascinating metaphor where we have the characters who act as though they are being led on strings. They do silly things, they are played around with by fate, by the gods. The literal act of walking, important here in the wandering and in the connection, the ties to each other, show how each is leashed to each other, with a puppetmaster of history and future leading the way onwards.
Aesthetically, the piece also works well by the Dolls metaphor. The costumes are literally colourful, they are though most of all theatrical. Theatre is a crucial theme here. The idea that the characters are being played on a stage, in fact the whole piece is one big stage. The primary colours that shine out from the enviroment, as though highlighted or put in with a felt tip pen. The wonderlands of the bright seasons behind, deliberately slightly comic book, but still close enough to realism in Kitano's distinctive technique.
We have fallen in love with Kitano's direction. Not just the colour of the mis-en-scene and so on, which we mentioned, but also his use of the inscrutable acting. His real genius though is knowing what to capture, how to capture it, and for how long. His use of montage isn't all that slow, but he throws in images from a variety of P.O.V. and other angles that do take one by surprise, while never jarring. How to swtich from a leaf to an emotion, then a move backwards or forwards in time, is an art. It is clear that Kitano is a visual artist, the use of surprise particularly. He frames it in a mixture of long shots, where we have a great sense of place, and a nice sense of putting different actors on scene together which gives a real sense of togetherness and congruity, even though we live in a word where people do seem to find themselves, doll-like, far apart.
Kitano is the master of timing, and what he chooses to time, though it often seems odd and is on paper quite 'arty', is in fact a beautifully wide ranging array of various images. He has the full range of movement and style at his disposal, and puts them together in a simple way. He finds emotion in an emotionless world, so memorable.
We have seen two Kitano films. So far, two out of two. Wonderful, fine entertainment to go with one of the finest cinematic artists.
Stiny Horkeho Leta (Shadows Of A Hot Summer)
Our old friend Frantisek Vlacil, in 1978, one of his final films. Also, one of his best.
We have some good identification with our central character, and we have fascinating themes of just how much one can take ('Hana-Bi' as the master of this theme, but we have a slightly different angle in this good but lesser film). The use of early scenes to build this theme, and the reaction of the character of the son, initially angry and confused, then finding out he is weak and accepting, is a fascinating dialectic. The ending is of course overheated, if still very interesting theoretically, with one rather major plot hole that we'll let Vlacil get away with. The plot generally is interesting and not taken as secondary; Vlacil has learnt how to tell a good stroy, and it is genuinely tense as we build up.
Formally it is a good even mixture of Vlacil's more usual shots with some nice wide ones of the hot, hot summer. He shoots the action well in a deadpan manner. The rather jarring jabs when quick moments of shots and jolts occur is still rather dated, but less so than in some of Vlacil's earlier works.
Vlacil, in his later work, seems to have focussed more on narrative. He learns to build up tensions but getting nicely inexpressive smouldering out of his actors, and does not have the formal trickery in so far as huge faces and psychoanalytic 'complexity' that could make his earlier work grate slightly.
An interesting director, one of his better films, recommended of one has enjoyed any other pieces of Vlacil's work.
We have some good identification with our central character, and we have fascinating themes of just how much one can take ('Hana-Bi' as the master of this theme, but we have a slightly different angle in this good but lesser film). The use of early scenes to build this theme, and the reaction of the character of the son, initially angry and confused, then finding out he is weak and accepting, is a fascinating dialectic. The ending is of course overheated, if still very interesting theoretically, with one rather major plot hole that we'll let Vlacil get away with. The plot generally is interesting and not taken as secondary; Vlacil has learnt how to tell a good stroy, and it is genuinely tense as we build up.
Formally it is a good even mixture of Vlacil's more usual shots with some nice wide ones of the hot, hot summer. He shoots the action well in a deadpan manner. The rather jarring jabs when quick moments of shots and jolts occur is still rather dated, but less so than in some of Vlacil's earlier works.
Vlacil, in his later work, seems to have focussed more on narrative. He learns to build up tensions but getting nicely inexpressive smouldering out of his actors, and does not have the formal trickery in so far as huge faces and psychoanalytic 'complexity' that could make his earlier work grate slightly.
An interesting director, one of his better films, recommended of one has enjoyed any other pieces of Vlacil's work.
Hans Richter: Early Works
A selection, repeated a number of times, of early works from the great German dadist/surrealist artist Hans Richter.
His early pieces are purely formal experiments. He seems unable to wish to use three dimensions, but has an interesting take on the speeds of movement, gradually into scenes and then sudden quick motions. Interesting in its affect, though one knows what Richet meant when he described them as purely intellectual, not at all emotional.
There is a little bit of a sigh of relief when Richter starts using bodies. He becomes interested in collage techniques, which are well used to again express the way cinema is able to have various levels of reality together at once.
Richter is at his very best when he shows himself to be a master of the montage technique. His short film 'Race' is perhaps his finest work, using non-chronological images to create a tight intense atmosphere, before then moving well on to a tension relieving but still powerful long duration shot of the race itself.
We then move onto 'Ghosts Before Breakfast', once again, which we now see as if anything one of Richter's more straightforawrd works. He likes to abstract from the personal, to abstract from internal emotion, rather he uses the method of montage to create his own rythms. It is interesting how these either clash or are used with the speed of rythm in the content.
Richter is not a master filmaker, he uses the form for his own artistic ends rather than for an appreciation of the possibilities of the medium itself, manipulating for its own sake on occassion. These pieces though are fascinating, the early ones for their abstract purity, the latter for their stabs at Eisenstein-esque theory along with some other insights.
His early pieces are purely formal experiments. He seems unable to wish to use three dimensions, but has an interesting take on the speeds of movement, gradually into scenes and then sudden quick motions. Interesting in its affect, though one knows what Richet meant when he described them as purely intellectual, not at all emotional.
There is a little bit of a sigh of relief when Richter starts using bodies. He becomes interested in collage techniques, which are well used to again express the way cinema is able to have various levels of reality together at once.
Richter is at his very best when he shows himself to be a master of the montage technique. His short film 'Race' is perhaps his finest work, using non-chronological images to create a tight intense atmosphere, before then moving well on to a tension relieving but still powerful long duration shot of the race itself.
We then move onto 'Ghosts Before Breakfast', once again, which we now see as if anything one of Richter's more straightforawrd works. He likes to abstract from the personal, to abstract from internal emotion, rather he uses the method of montage to create his own rythms. It is interesting how these either clash or are used with the speed of rythm in the content.
Richter is not a master filmaker, he uses the form for his own artistic ends rather than for an appreciation of the possibilities of the medium itself, manipulating for its own sake on occassion. These pieces though are fascinating, the early ones for their abstract purity, the latter for their stabs at Eisenstein-esque theory along with some other insights.
Dym Bramborove Nate (Smoke On The Potato Fields)
1977 film from our good friend Frantisek Vlacil. And this is one of his better ones.
We have the doctor, who is our centre, smartly identified. He is not let to dominate the screen, but appears at the edges constantly. It is as though there is an absence where the central identification should be; in the meantime, we shall follow this lonley and tired man.
In so far as shots, we have the interesting initial one, and others follow, of the male and female looking in opposite directions, trying to be together but ultimately failing. Vlacil is not so keen to make icons of his large character's faces as he was at the start of his career. He is able to ease back, even to on occassion go for the wide, still shots of landscape he seemed to shy away from earlier.
As for the plot, the dilemna of the central character is nicely, understatedly played. We do not dwell on what he is doing or why, rather it is a wonderfully acted character study in restraint and resignation. The real excercise here is in how the man adapts to an enviroment that is depicted better than ever. The old instruments, the stilted attitidues. Very well done.
One does rather tire of this film, the plot, for the last third, is difficult not to lose a bit of interest in. The place is curious to see, but it would be wrong to say that Vlacil has ever made the places he shoots beautiful.
One of Vlacil's better works, if not great.
We have the doctor, who is our centre, smartly identified. He is not let to dominate the screen, but appears at the edges constantly. It is as though there is an absence where the central identification should be; in the meantime, we shall follow this lonley and tired man.
In so far as shots, we have the interesting initial one, and others follow, of the male and female looking in opposite directions, trying to be together but ultimately failing. Vlacil is not so keen to make icons of his large character's faces as he was at the start of his career. He is able to ease back, even to on occassion go for the wide, still shots of landscape he seemed to shy away from earlier.
As for the plot, the dilemna of the central character is nicely, understatedly played. We do not dwell on what he is doing or why, rather it is a wonderfully acted character study in restraint and resignation. The real excercise here is in how the man adapts to an enviroment that is depicted better than ever. The old instruments, the stilted attitidues. Very well done.
One does rather tire of this film, the plot, for the last third, is difficult not to lose a bit of interest in. The place is curious to see, but it would be wrong to say that Vlacil has ever made the places he shoots beautiful.
One of Vlacil's better works, if not great.
Friday 1 October 2010
Police, Adjective
This new Romanian film (from Corneliu Porumboiu) utterly, utterly excellent.
We start off with long long shots, and that is exactly how it continues. Apart from one character it doesn't really exaplin who is who. This takes a while for the viewer to work out where they are, what they are watching, how to adject ourselves to this. So we start off a little distracted, a little too easy to let the mind wander. But then we come to know the film, and we are drawn in until it grips with beauty, with power.
The long long static shots reming one of 'Hidden', if anything, but used rather differently. One has to learn to love the image, love the compositions, love the image (again). Watching a whole meal. We then come to understand the rythms of the dialogue, it is in a way funny, but also particulaly beautiful. It has a profound slowness, a profound contemplation on the subject.
This is what the themes of the film are; how infinity ends up into circles, into a kind of non-linear miasma. The space inhabited is a circular one. Then we have the definition seen. Brought out by the earlier repitions, this scene encapsulates how the logic itself of a discredited situation leads one to a moral avenue. As though life, and the place itself, lead one to the avenues of horrors.
Place is depicted through the characters, not under or over done. The lead actor is simply excellent, naturalistic and convincing.
This is a truly incredible, powerful film, with a moral dilemma but never overpowered by it. Indeed, it shows the banality of morality. It is a kick in the gut, as well as a slow experience of mourning for a culture that was never there. One of the best new releases of the year.
We start off with long long shots, and that is exactly how it continues. Apart from one character it doesn't really exaplin who is who. This takes a while for the viewer to work out where they are, what they are watching, how to adject ourselves to this. So we start off a little distracted, a little too easy to let the mind wander. But then we come to know the film, and we are drawn in until it grips with beauty, with power.
The long long static shots reming one of 'Hidden', if anything, but used rather differently. One has to learn to love the image, love the compositions, love the image (again). Watching a whole meal. We then come to understand the rythms of the dialogue, it is in a way funny, but also particulaly beautiful. It has a profound slowness, a profound contemplation on the subject.
This is what the themes of the film are; how infinity ends up into circles, into a kind of non-linear miasma. The space inhabited is a circular one. Then we have the definition seen. Brought out by the earlier repitions, this scene encapsulates how the logic itself of a discredited situation leads one to a moral avenue. As though life, and the place itself, lead one to the avenues of horrors.
Place is depicted through the characters, not under or over done. The lead actor is simply excellent, naturalistic and convincing.
This is a truly incredible, powerful film, with a moral dilemma but never overpowered by it. Indeed, it shows the banality of morality. It is a kick in the gut, as well as a slow experience of mourning for a culture that was never there. One of the best new releases of the year.
Lat Den Ratte Komma In (Let The Right One In)
One of the most lauded films of the last few years. We remember enjoying it on first release, and this re-watch confirms it as more than a very good film; it is seminal, really, one of the high points of recent cinema.
How arthouse is it? The shots aren't particulalry long or shot or weird. We have the usual mixture if mid-identifying shots, and we have the wider shots of whole bodies among the widescreen friendly snow (that adds thematic weight to the idea of coldness, outside, isolation). The pretty shots are contemplative and beautiful in themselves. The snow that twinkles, some contemplative looks at the trees and what shines on them. Quite conventional beautiful shots (not a criticism, an observation), this is not a formally innovative film, but is a very very good one on its own simple way. Each scene is expertly composed, with a most understated kind of beauty.
This film is about isolation, outside, belonging. The repeated motifs of glass, of seeing through glass, of touching in glass. We know Eli, Oskar, Eli's keeper (a heatrbreaking subplot, perhaps the finest moments of the film in its understanding of time), and indeed nearly every character must learn, somehow to belong. How is this done? To become like others? How does one get in?
This film uses focus to emphasise much of this. Oskar is taken out of focus even in 'his own' scenes, coming back in more as Eli lets him know who he is, lets him in to his own life. This use, helped by the glass, rather reminded us of 'The Secret In Their Eyes'. In fact, this on the surface very different film is a good point of comparison. A formally excellent but not hugely showy film with fascinating themes. This is a little more low key, more, well, emotional (and without the slightly stretched plot).
A seminal film of recent times, excellent entertainment, with so much to think on. But nothing can be explained, except through the image.
How arthouse is it? The shots aren't particulalry long or shot or weird. We have the usual mixture if mid-identifying shots, and we have the wider shots of whole bodies among the widescreen friendly snow (that adds thematic weight to the idea of coldness, outside, isolation). The pretty shots are contemplative and beautiful in themselves. The snow that twinkles, some contemplative looks at the trees and what shines on them. Quite conventional beautiful shots (not a criticism, an observation), this is not a formally innovative film, but is a very very good one on its own simple way. Each scene is expertly composed, with a most understated kind of beauty.
This film is about isolation, outside, belonging. The repeated motifs of glass, of seeing through glass, of touching in glass. We know Eli, Oskar, Eli's keeper (a heatrbreaking subplot, perhaps the finest moments of the film in its understanding of time), and indeed nearly every character must learn, somehow to belong. How is this done? To become like others? How does one get in?
This film uses focus to emphasise much of this. Oskar is taken out of focus even in 'his own' scenes, coming back in more as Eli lets him know who he is, lets him in to his own life. This use, helped by the glass, rather reminded us of 'The Secret In Their Eyes'. In fact, this on the surface very different film is a good point of comparison. A formally excellent but not hugely showy film with fascinating themes. This is a little more low key, more, well, emotional (and without the slightly stretched plot).
A seminal film of recent times, excellent entertainment, with so much to think on. But nothing can be explained, except through the image.
Badlands
A few years back, when we first saw this 1973 Terrence Malick movie, we adored the spectral msuic, images and tone of this movie. It surprised us, on second viewing, in a number of ways.
The opening uses a lot of close up shots. In fact, we have a sense of a very enclosed enviroment, of tight personas unable to look outside of their bubbles. Malick is partly trying to get us to identify with characters who will soon be doing 'unsympathetic' things, but is also perhaps a little bit reticent in going for the wide shots he really wants; the early Malick feels he has to pay his dues to the characterisation. There is thus a sense of freedom when he gets to the wide skies that take up most of the screen, the shots he really wants. These are the finest moments in the film, the wide angles and the small, thin figures.
The film has more of a tone of humour than we remembered, perhaps a slight sign of nerviness in the director. The tone is of that innocence, that forgiveness, which Malick does generally a fine job of balancing with the more serious questions.
And these questions are serious. The question of nice guys, perhaps, or at least innocent people, who fall into this catalogue of things we see from the outside as 'bad'. Does it make them morally evil? The spectre of Vietnam, of innocents committing atrocities, hangs over the end of the film.
This is an entertaining film, with only in stabs the visual beauty we remembered, and a slightly less powerful tone. One of the finest films in Hollywood, partly due to a kind of uncertain, naive, brittleness.
The opening uses a lot of close up shots. In fact, we have a sense of a very enclosed enviroment, of tight personas unable to look outside of their bubbles. Malick is partly trying to get us to identify with characters who will soon be doing 'unsympathetic' things, but is also perhaps a little bit reticent in going for the wide shots he really wants; the early Malick feels he has to pay his dues to the characterisation. There is thus a sense of freedom when he gets to the wide skies that take up most of the screen, the shots he really wants. These are the finest moments in the film, the wide angles and the small, thin figures.
The film has more of a tone of humour than we remembered, perhaps a slight sign of nerviness in the director. The tone is of that innocence, that forgiveness, which Malick does generally a fine job of balancing with the more serious questions.
And these questions are serious. The question of nice guys, perhaps, or at least innocent people, who fall into this catalogue of things we see from the outside as 'bad'. Does it make them morally evil? The spectre of Vietnam, of innocents committing atrocities, hangs over the end of the film.
This is an entertaining film, with only in stabs the visual beauty we remembered, and a slightly less powerful tone. One of the finest films in Hollywood, partly due to a kind of uncertain, naive, brittleness.
Encounters At The End Of The World
One of the more recent movies from Werner Herzog, a documentary on the Antarctic and those who have come to be there.
Herzog is, more than ever, happy to insert himself in the frame. If not literally in th image, his narration not only tells the story but is descriptive, and even discusses his own personal relation to what is going on. This is surprising, and on occassion very funny, which Herzog himself obviously realises, even sometimes playing on his public persona. His dismissal of man's settlements, the attempt to draw out the taciturn penguin-watcher, and the suicidal creature he observes; classic, hillarious, passionate in their own deadpan way moment.
Herzog clearly has something to say here, beyond the image. When he speaks over the top of a linguist we know we have that rare beast; a Herzog film where Herzog does not just want to observe, but to act. The long shots for the interviews, the weird sideways uses of animals and so on, may seem like classic Herzog, but in fact this is a very different Herzog picture in its use of tone.
This film does use its huge wide landscapes, the enormous skies and the perfect whitenesses. But Herzog is not overly bothered about these much seen aspects. He enjoys the confined spaces underwater, or trenches in the ice. More than that, his use of a handheld camera can on occassion give a narrow view; of man building its own lifeworlds in a chaotic and impossibly wide area.
Herzog uses his usual tropes of the crusading, insane outsider drawn to the ends of the earth, looking for transcendence in a doomed, idiotic manner. His views on this are complex, and he explores them with depth and intelligence. In this documentray he combines this study with more of himself, and a new enviroment. On occassion striking, a new use of old material and a finding of new material. Gripping, beautiful, a fine work.
Herzog is, more than ever, happy to insert himself in the frame. If not literally in th image, his narration not only tells the story but is descriptive, and even discusses his own personal relation to what is going on. This is surprising, and on occassion very funny, which Herzog himself obviously realises, even sometimes playing on his public persona. His dismissal of man's settlements, the attempt to draw out the taciturn penguin-watcher, and the suicidal creature he observes; classic, hillarious, passionate in their own deadpan way moment.
Herzog clearly has something to say here, beyond the image. When he speaks over the top of a linguist we know we have that rare beast; a Herzog film where Herzog does not just want to observe, but to act. The long shots for the interviews, the weird sideways uses of animals and so on, may seem like classic Herzog, but in fact this is a very different Herzog picture in its use of tone.
This film does use its huge wide landscapes, the enormous skies and the perfect whitenesses. But Herzog is not overly bothered about these much seen aspects. He enjoys the confined spaces underwater, or trenches in the ice. More than that, his use of a handheld camera can on occassion give a narrow view; of man building its own lifeworlds in a chaotic and impossibly wide area.
Herzog uses his usual tropes of the crusading, insane outsider drawn to the ends of the earth, looking for transcendence in a doomed, idiotic manner. His views on this are complex, and he explores them with depth and intelligence. In this documentray he combines this study with more of himself, and a new enviroment. On occassion striking, a new use of old material and a finding of new material. Gripping, beautiful, a fine work.
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