Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Film Review. Afficher tous les articles
Affichage des articles dont le libellé est Film Review. Afficher tous les articles

12 mai 2026

A quoi sert encore la CRITIQUE ? (France Culture)

 

CINÉMA : à quoi sert encore la CRITIQUE ? (YouTube) 58'47"
(France Culture) 12 mai 2026


"YouTube, TikTok, podcasts, réseaux sociaux : chacun peut désormais donner son avis. 

La critique n’a pas disparu. Elle a changé de visage.

Autrefois capables de faire ou défaire la réputation d’un film, les critiques partagent désormais la parole avec des milliers de créateurs de contenu et de spectateurs en ligne.


Pour en parler : 

🎙️ Antoine de Baecque, professeur d'histoire du cinéma à l'École normale supérieure

🎙️ Charlotte Garson, rédactrice en chef adjointe des Cahiers du cinéma

🎙️ Charles Bosson, critique de cinéma et de séries, animateur du podcast “Overtime”

🎙️ Judith Beauvallet, critique cinéma à Écran Large, vidéaste sur YouTube avec sa chaîne "Demoiselles d’Horreur", et spécialiste du cinéma de genre"



18 octobre 2011

Films from the South

-Cultural Diversity Awareness-


The Case For Global Film : a British website (ITP, in the picture) about "Discussing everything that isn’t Hollywood (and a little that is)"
They are doing a series titled "Films from the South" this October 2011 (Oslo's 21st "Films From the South" festival) :
  1. Where Do We Go Now? (2011/Nadine Labaki/Lebanon/Fr/It/Egypt)
  2. Man Without a Cellphone / Bidoun Mobile (2010/Sameh Zoabi/Palestine/Israel/Fra/Bel/Qatar)
  3. Finding Ali (2011/Pål Hollender/Sweden)
  4. Be With Me (2005/Eric Khoo/Singapore)
  5. The Year Without Summer / Wu zhi xia nian (2010/Tan Chui Mui/Malaysia)
  6. So Hard to Forget / Como Esquecer (2010/Malu de Martino/Brazil)
  7. Aballay / Aballay, el hombre sin miedo (2010/Fernando Spiner/Argentina/Spain)
  8. Fireworks Wednesday / Chaharshanbe-soori (2006/Asghar Farhadi/Iran)
  9. About Elly / Darbareye Elly (2009/Asghar Farhadi/Iran)
  10. The Journals of Musan / Musanilgi (2010/Park Jung-bum/South Korea)
  11. Carancho (2010/Pablo Trapero/Argentine/Chile/France/S. Korea)
  12. Tatsumi (2011/Eric Khoo/Singapore)
  13. Interview with Eric Khoo
  14. The Benghali Detective (2011/UK/India//USA) 
  15. Virgin Goat / Ladli Laila (2009/India)
  16. Final thoughts 


Related:

16 décembre 2010

Le Masque (France inter)


Le masque et la plume (france inter) 5 déc 2010 enregistrée le 25 nov - 59'

Emission radio de critique cinéma (plus ou moins bimensuelle depuis 1959) sur France inter, avec Jérome Garcin, Sophie Avon (Sud Ouest), Alain Riou (Nouvel Obs), Xavier Leherpeur (Studio-CinéLive), Pierre Murat (Télérama), exceptionellement retransmise en directe sur internet (DailyMotion).

Les sorties de la semaine :
  • Inside Job (Charles Ferguson/USA) DOC
  • No et moi (Zabou Breitman/France)
  • L’empire du milieu sud (Jacques Perrin/France) DOC
  • Outrage (Takeshi Kitano/Japon)
  • Le nom des gens (Michel Leclerc/France)
  • My Joy (Serguei Loznitsa/Russie)

25 novembre 2009

Backstabbing French Commission

Tsai Ming-liang's Visage (2009) was a film commissioned by Le Louvre, world famous museum (currently developing a franchise in Abu Dhabi!). Its production met some problems and delays... most notably the defection of its title star, Maggie Cheng, who put aside her cinema career after falling in love with a Hong-Kong billionaire. This incident is actually integrated to the narrative of the film, like a palimpsest where the auteur traces over his original project to tell the story of his own self-included sequel-remake. Like every great auteur, Tsai incorporates elements of his autobiographical working hours, more or less fantasised or transcended, to turn life into art. This is fascinating to witness and learn from.
The Louvre's "patrons of the art" wanted to hire a critically-acclaimed festival-darling to direct a feature-length infomercial on their museum... they wanted someone to film their historical collection, the sumptuous rooms, the former royal castle exteriors, the gardens à la française, the postcard perspectives, the touristic sightseeing... and this you could tell by the commentaries of the representatives speaking about the "difficult" production anecdotes and the "surprising" final result. They imposed a celebrity (Laetitia Casta) to replace Maggie Cheng, in order to convince other co-producers, French and Taiwanese.
But Tsai is a humble man and a stubborn artist. Intelligently, he didn't want to measure up with La Joconde, la Vénus de Milo, la victoire de Samothrace, or the contemporary glass pyramid added by Chinese architect Pei Leoh Ming. What caught his eyes after a VIP visit of the premises were windowless corridors, low-ceiling attics, steel ladders, fluid pipes, underground water reservoirs for fire emergency, dark bushes... to the dismay of the public relation team, you can imagine. The only vaguely scenic view he immortalised was the majestic basin of the Tuileries gardens that ends his previous film : What Time is it There? (2001); a film containing back then the key articulations of his latest project : a brief cameo appearance of Jean-Pierre Léaud and this ending image of a wild stag in the Tuileries.

What annoys me here is not Tsai's film, which I loved (even if it's not among his most successful), but the French co-production and reception.

France can pride itself for being a safe haven of auteurs, domestic or international. I doubt filmmakers benefit from a greater liberty and protection anywhere else. This said, we would expect the highest artistic standards from a French commissioned project and above all from an art-friendly museum like Le Louvre... this is far from the truth, unfortunately.
I thought the Louvre commission was only a fund granted to an artist, for an opportunity with no strings attached. Who could think themselves in a position to give directions to a seasoned artist with a solid œuvre under his belt? Who cares for profits and commercial appeal when you're a wealthy state-owned museum? When you get the chance to work with one of the greatest film artist of our generation, you don't ask questions, you just give him money, provide all he asks for and wait for the finished piece without pressuring him. Who would better understand that than the greatest museum in a auteurist paradise like France?

I'm appalled to see that this "philanthropic" commission only showed the typical Hollywood system behaviour instead...

Of course, the final film is far from a commercial movie, but as an obscure artfilm it is treated like in Hollywood with a confidential release. And I'm offended by the reception of the French market, and above all the Parisian arthouses circuit. Visage premièred the 4th of November 2009, on only 15 screens nationwide (6 in Paris). And today, on 4th week, is only continued by 7 theatres (2 in Paris : one is one show/day, the other is 1 show/week)... I've never seen such a poor enthusiasm for an artfilm that has everything to please the cinephile-friendly Parisian arthouses. For instance, this week, Bruno Dumont's Hadewijch (2009), also slow and challenging, is given a more reasonable, decent release on 54 screens (10 in Paris), which is closer to the usual treatment for the hard-to-please niche.

Visage was selected in Cannes in official competition. Le Louvre was its godfather. Tsai Ming-liang has always been cherished by French cinephiles more than anywhere else in the world. It is an homage to François Truffaut, with 4 of his actors (Jean-Pierre Léaud, Jeanne Moreau, Nathalie Baye, Fanny Ardant). Laetitia Casta is featured prominently dressed by a flurry of haute couture costumes by French designer Christian Lacroix. Choreographed by Philippe Découflé. Its scenario was developed at the Cannes festival residence. It is shot on location in Paris. How more French could a foreign film be? It is a French co-production that should be supported by state subsidies and domestic exhibitors.
So if this kind of project is not embraced by the French market, where else will it be???

There is an artfilm "niche" in Paris too, like everywhere else, for "challenging" films like Visage, meaning that they will never get the sweeping coverage of a crowd-pleasing blockbuster, even in Paris of course! But there is always a base of art-friendly arthouses that support this kind of auteurs, whether the film is good or not, to give it a chance, to give the audience a chance to discover it before being taken down by the 2-week turnover release schedule. Usually there are at least a (couple of) dozen Parisian screens to champion this kind of films! I don't know what happened.
Les Inrockuptibles, Libération, Le Monde, Télérama praised it. OK, the snobbish Cahiers and Positif bashed it... but still.

It was already quite pretentious to "invite" an international auteur like Tsai Ming-liang to make a film in France... but given this ungrateful reception, he won't come back for sure.

We can tell the film was hard to make and struggled to come together under contradictory influences... too many ideas, not enough coherence. I agree it's not a clean achievement. I think Tsai is essentialy happy he could work with Léaud to make an homage to his mentor Truffaut. That's his main satisfaction. For the rest he filled with what he knows best, lip-synch choreographies and lavish compositions. And even from an admittedly "failed" project, I believe he pulled off a beautiful film that is nothing to be ashamed of, contrary to what detractors think.

Cinephiles celebrate Tsai when he makes sense, when he recycles pop culture, when he's provocative... but they abandon him when his contemplative aesthetic is too abstract, too experimental, to discontinuous. His adaptation of the story of the Salomé myth is what deconstructive cuisine is to fine gastronomie : a quintessential rendition of its dissociated elements. And on this level, it is amazing to observe how Tsai tailors this clever patchwork with precision and a very personal inspiration.

I command Tsai for not falling back on facile clichés and conventional narratives. He walked away from all incentives (by the production) to pigeon-hole him into a cliché of a "French auteur".

* * *

I was already disappointed by Hou Hsiao-hsien's "French film" : Le Voyage du Ballon Rouge (2007); and Rithy Panh's eponymous adaptation of Marguerite Duras : Un Barrage Contre le Pacifique (2008). Both mishandled French co-productions because it was too heavy on the Frenchisation.

The 2006 Viennale Mozart homage : New Crowned Hope, was also a product placement failure bribing auteurs to promote Mozart in projects that were already almost finished. As if contributing funds to a film gave any right for artistic inputs or suggestions... maybe in Hollywood, but not in Europe!
Rich people bring in the money and get the eventual profits (or honorific credits to help the art scene) from a (risky) investment.
Art people bring in the artistic ideas because they don't need to be told how it works.
That's how it works as far as I'm concerned. When the roles are inverted it is disastrous, both for the art and for the industry.
Though, at least, the New Crowned Hope series didn't suffer from the commission requirements (to include Mozart music), and each film is wholesome and fully coherent with its auteur's identity. Because the Viennale co-production didn't intervene from the start of the project, like the French did in the 3 aforementioned examples.

Usually French co-productions are more discreet and sensible, leaving the auteur they fund and champion in control of their work. All the reason why I'm shocked by what happened with Tsai (and HHH and Rithy Panh) which was meant to be a film less commercial than the others from the get go.

12 octobre 2009

Devdas (2002/Bhansali)

The new issue (#6) of Indian Auteur is out! With a new website overhaul, a downloadable/printable version of the journal (PDF here), or an online flipbook (here). The theme is around the musical genre, in Indian cinema and in World cinema.
My article is an analysis on the first part of Devdas (Sanjay Leela Bhansali's 2002 version). Enjoy.

20 juillet 2009

Seeking World Film Bloggers Desperately

The majority of film bloggers on the English-speaking blogosphere come from the USA essentially, or the UK, and Europe more generally. This is evident on the maps of tracking counters placed on various English film blogs. Very few visitors are outside Europe and North America (which owns the most part of the worldwide internet bandwidth anyway). I suppose this is particular to the English language of course (though it should be the most popular internationally). The situation in France is even worse, French blogs are only visited by people from France (or Belgium and Switzerland).
But I would like to expand the circle of cinephiles to most places on Earth, in order to communicate with local audience, who watch the foreign films we love in their original language, or even films from our countries. Just to establish a contact worldwide beyond language barriers.

I dream of a blogosphere we could navigate to meet film lovers from any imaginable country, and be able to read their thoughts on cinema, in their own language, or translated (one way or the other). I talked about this project for a long time now (here for example), without being able to discover new blogs out there on my own, so I hope to find some help in a collective effort for everyone interested in this endeavour. All help is welcome if you share this concern to meet foreign film bloggers.

If you are a film lover, a film writer, a film critic, a film student, a film scholar, a filmmaker from non-English speaking nations or if you know someone, if you know places where to find them, if you can read these local languages, please join in on this quest to connect cinephiles around the world and gather around the same table.

The area of interest of your blog should be focused on "art-films" of course (I'm less worried about connecting the fans of Hollywood blockbusters), which means the major festival line-ups, local indie films, documentaries and experimental cinema.

To start, in a first phase -urgent priority - the main countries (either because they host the best contemporary masters or because they have a massive movie-going demographic) should be considered in priority on the radar :
But there are many other under-represented places in the world of cinema, like Brazil, Malaysia, Indonesia, Egypt, Singapore, Israel, Palestine, Georgia, Armenia, Cuba...

And even in Europe, outside of France and the UK, I would like to know where to find the most passionate film bloggers from the underexposed European countries (on the English blogosphere) : Romania, Ukraine, Czech Rep., Iceland, Portugal, Denmark, Norway, Finland, Sweden, Poland, Belgium, Netherlands, Estonia, Lithuania, Hungary, Switzerland, Greece and to a lesser extant Spain, Italy, Germany...


In a next post (go here), I'll keep updated a list of the links found in every country, by continent. And we'll have 3 categories :
  1. local/foreign blogs in English by local people (for direct international communication), or bloggers speaking English as well
  2. local blogs in local language or non-English foreign languages (requiring proxy translation, which could be worked out eventually with the help of the community or Google Translate)
  3. And if there is no personal contact to be found, a local film journal accessible online would be also precious.
Contact me via email (see my profile) or in the comments below. Volunteers to help coordinate, investigate, scout the web, translate are welcome. Use your own blogs, contacts, Twitter, Facebook... to relay the announcement of this research and spread the word around.

18 juin 2008

Three times 4 eggs - Funny Games (2)

First part of the review of Haneke's Funny Games here (sorry for the delay)

SECOND GAME : THE FOOT-IN-THE-DOOR

Haneke illustrates almost literally here a typical principle of manipulation known in psychology. The idea is to ask little at first to secure chances to obtain more later. Once the foot is in the door it becomes impossible to leave the intruder out, both physically and metaphorically.
When the perverse manipulator knows that what he actually wants will be refused systematically, he sets up a pre-conditioning behaviour, trivial and costless, that will commit the victim into accepting something that would have been easy to turn down otherwise. This experiment was described by Freedman and Fraser, and by Kiesler.



This is my favourite sequence in the film. Watch this precise treatise of manipulation at work:

1) the knife in the water

The father and the boy prepare the sail boat at the deck. Paul proposed his help when they asked a hand to the neighbours at the gate. The family is embarrassed that the dog barks at Paul, which puts them in a situation to apologize for the inconvenience of the dog misbehaviour (which will play a role later). The dog has been barking on and offscreen ever since they arrived at the house. This is a security system signal they didn't pay attention to.
The mother is on the phone in the kitchen and the father sent the boy for a knife. This scene plants two key elements : the functioning phone left on the sink and the knife brought by the boy into the boat. In a patronizing and maternal tone, she says "I want to see this knife again" (she will see it again at the end of the film indeed, on the boat!), implying they might lose it or damage it on the boat.

2) 4 eggs

Peter, the clumsy idiot, comes at the door (behind the mosquito net), on behalf of the neighbour, to ask for 4 eggs.
- "How did you get in?" (Paul, the other guy, was invited in through the automatic gate).
Peter pretends the neighbour told him about a secret hole in the fence between the two properties. The mother never met him before. Under normal circumstances she could easily refuse this odd request and go on with her life, thus escaping a tragic massacre. Unfortunately, it's virtually impossible to reject this meaningless preparatory "participation" (in the manipulative scheme), and thus engages in an escalation of greater sacrifices, always more inescapable!
If Peter had asked for all 12 eggs right from the start, she would have had an easy excuse to refuse without being rude or earning a bad reputation. Moreover she's offered an opportunity to be serviceable, at low cost, to her friend who happened to be inexplicably distant earlier in the opening scene. We realise Haneke (and his killers) had set up the trap much earlier than we thought.
Actually every single word of the dialogue is highly interesting. She offers a cardbox to carry the eggs, he overpolitely declines to cause her the least hassle, leaves it to her judgement. At this point she makes the choice to become helpful to her neighbour, and he doesn't even force her to accept anything. She's empowered by an impression of free will.

3) 4 more eggs

Peter didn't even walk out the frontdoor that the eggs are already dropped on the floor. Peter is so embarrassed that it's touching. As a good housewife, the mother pretends it's no big deal, says these things happen and that the mess is quickly fixed. His immaculate gloves might get soiled so Peter doesn't even try to help her (there is a medium shot of him holding his hands in the air like a surgeon trying to keep them from touching anything). This little (planned) incident puts the mother, once again, in a gratifying position where she could be helpful and merciful, at low cost. She feels good about herself now, and gradually convinces herself Peter is useless and most importantly harmless.
Peter still waits for his eggs. Though she's a little more reluctant to comply and has more reasons to refuse now. The original good deed now costs her 8 eggs and leaves her only 4. The numbers are important here. The first time, it only cost her 1/3 and left her 2/3, so the exchange was acceptable. The second time, the situation is reversed, and the split is unfavourably imbalanced. So the act of giving definitely means something different symbolically.
Remember Peter doesn't actually want eggs (because the neighbours are already dead!), all he wants is to get her to surrender more and more of her free will to him, unknowingly.

The other aspect of the foot-in-the-door technique is the process of commitment. The small inductive act, opens up a favourable inclination to continue to accept similar acts. And it's also expected to be consistent in our actions. If she accepted to give 4 eggs once (and even went on saying how happy she was to be serviceable!), she's most likely expected to accept again. This begins the escalation of commitment, in order to justify the initial act that she was persuaded to do.

Just as she's convinced by his smooth talking, Peter "inadvertently" drops her phone into the sink water. She's really getting annoyed by now, while maintaining a polite face. She's dying to get rid of him as quickly as possible. This time she puts the eggs in a box, despite him politely declining again (sticking to his original easygoing pattern), and sends him home.
Once he's gone, her face is relieved, she even smiles at the way she got all stressed up from nothing. She doesn't even look much bothered by the broken phone. This whole thing cost her more than she first expected when she accepted, but she's happy her good deed will put her neighbour in a better mood for the golf game they arranged the next day.

4) the last 4 eggs

The dog makes more noise. And the mother sees the two intruders rush in to escape the dog attack. The housewife feels sorry of course and is put in a guilt-inducing situation where she has to apologize and make up for it as they blame this misbehaviour on her poor training of the dog. Peter dropped the eggs yet again, because of the dog this time, and asks for the last 4 eggs. The stake raised, now she has to give up all 12 eggs, with nothing left for her. All or nothing.
But the process of commitment carefully set up makes it more difficult to get out of her responsibilities. She has to justify her refusal to hand out the 4 eggs. In fact she finds less credible arguments to excuse herself out. They repeat what she said earlier in a polite conversation, to use it against her false excuses now :
Peter : "You said you will go shopping on Monday anyway"

These 4 eggs, or more exactly the decision to give them for free, represent so much more emotional frustration than their face value. She only withhold the eggs by principle to express her anger and punish them for becoming insistently rude. Step by step, the original 4 eggs cost the price of twelve. Even twelve eggs isn't a big deal for this wealthy bourgeoise, but she doesn't want to be fooled a third time in a row. This trivial demand has been invested with a symbolic stand off. Even if she keeps the eggs to teach them manners, she would have lost 8 eggs and a phone, without the initial expectation to make up with her "upset" neighbour. Not to mention the bad reputation.
She didn't ask anything to begin with... and in 10 minutes she risks to get cross with her neighbours because this clumsy stranger asked for eggs that are useless to her! All this is rather silly.

5) a golf club

Notice that the two strangers entered the hallway, backs to the door (Trojan Horse-like intrusion of the private space in harmless clothes), the foot-in-the-door worked, literally. Suddenly Paul admires with emphasis her husband's golf clubs. These little words both remind her about the game they want to enjoy with the neighbours later on (Paul : "We [intruders+neighbours] don't stand a chance against such perfect clubs"), and flatter her ego (she humbly declares "a club doesn't make the player").
OK, last chance to start the vacations on the right foot. She's persuaded to let him try a swing in the garden, in the hope to put all this petty misunderstanding behind them. She would probably not have let a stranger use the precious clubs under normal circumstances, but this new foot-in-the-door, a step deeper, pushes her to accept this little concession. This will drag her into more trouble of course... She just gave her killer the weapon that will cause her demise!

6) good cop, bad cop

She grew a certain mistrust and dislike for Peter, but she still has to be grateful and polite to Paul because he helped for the boat. The situation now evolved in a good cop/bad cop manipulative relation. Paul plays the good cop, trying to conciliate the clashing parties with compromising solutions. This way it's easier for the mother to concede something to Paul that she would deny to Peter.
When the dog stops barking in a scream, the father arrives to see what's going on. He wants to sort out the conflict, but it's too late. The trap is loaded, the killers planted a firm foothold in the house, the family is hooked.
Paul welcomes the new participant because the dialogue with the mother was at a stalemate. He now can manipulate the father to press his wife into submission. The father doesn't know what happened, and his wife can't explain anything because the whole thing is so silly and she's too humiliated to have to justify herself in public. The father even has to apologize for the aggressiveness of his wife, but still wants to obey her so asks them to leave without the eggs even though he doesn't understand why.

7) a kneecap for a slap

Until now, the conversation is annoying at worse but remains very polite and restrained. In total control of the situation, Paul may taunt his upset victims, push them to the edge and let them make the incriminating step across the decency line. Paul makes a bad remark and gets a slap in the face. Peter instantly grabs a club and demolishes the father's knee cap! An eye for an eye. The father just gave them the opportunity (and the justification) to raise the stake, to go from verbal annoyance to physical violence.

This is really a cat-and-mouse game, the cat enjoys watching the captive mouse suffer, prisoner, struggling to get away. They could use the hyperbolic amount of violence usual in killer movies and end this tragedy before we begin to question our sense of morality. But Haneke wants us to endure the reality of what we asked for when we bought a thriller ticket. Violence isn't just spectacular effects, surprise jumps, adrenaline rushes... Paul and Peter only find it entertaining when the victims are fighting back.


to be continued... (eventually)

Related link:

30 mai 2008

La Salamandra (2008/Aguero)

Cannes 2008 - La Quinzaine des Réalisateurs
La Salamandra (2008/Pablo Agüero/Argentina) Debut
Opening Sequence : Inti (6) plays alone in his bath. Someone is heard offscreen coming in the house while he holds his breath under water. But the camera stays in the bathroom, observing the boy for a long time. Like a continuation of his game he hunts down the suspect noises, dripping wet, with a toy gun in hand, listening to the walls. We finally see the intruder, Alba, a young woman in the boy's room packing his clothes. She calls him by his name but he doesn't know her. When his grand mother comes back home, she immediately covers him with her shawl without a word.
This clever wordless set up reveals a lot information on this family. The carefree innocence of the child, the surrogate maternal grandma, and the sudden unexpected return of the absent irresponsible mother.
Then Alba goes on in a long self-justifying rambling monologue, anticipating the questions and blames waiting in the silent eyes of her resentful mother and her alienated child. Her apologetic speech is hyper and discontinuous. She naively claims nobody can stop her to take her son down to Patagonia where an utopic life awaits them. She's obviously shook up and confused. Without ever spelling it out, we gather throughout the film that she was imprisoned during the years of dictatorship in Argentina, maybe for political reasons, maybe in a mental asylum.
Cut to Inti and Alba on a bus, on the road to Patagonia, skipping any explanations, negotiations, reasoning or warning to talk her out of this improvised journey. What spares us the unnecessary melodrama, also discredits the reality of this unquestioned mother-son bond, and the willingness of this boy to leave behind his usual comfort for some tiring vacations with an uncaring stranger...

The film is essentially centred on Inti's viewpoint, he's the protagonist always onscreen and limits what the audience sees to what this boy is able to perceive. Which emphasizes the role of the soundtrack, the unsteady camerawork and the offscreen events, assumed or suggested.
This reserved boy raised without parents is in the process of learning to read and needs serious formative structure to affirm his psychological development. Thus he asks a lot of embarassing questions and snoops around this messy international post-hippie community sporting free sex, unashamed nudity, drugs and all the New Wave trippy B.S. turning their egoistic trivial hedonist pleasures into cosmical importance (Karma, Feng Shui, anarchy, revolution...)

Pablo Agüero, the filmmaker debuting with this film, grew up in this remote region of extreme south of Latin America. I don't know if he was a native or if his parents were part of this hippie village, but the portrait of these local peasants is quite unflattering. Their children, left on their own, are violent, territorial and hateful. The new comers are threatened, exploited, their houses burnt down...

Alba lives in a fantasized dream and denies systematically the evil in people and the misery of her life. She rent her night stays for sexual favours to men who happily manipulate her innocent and careless sense of reality. And Inti witnesses the negligent "prostitution" of his mother, night after night, forcing him to take the adult responsibility of their family nucleus, with his clumsy juvenile attempts. When Inti begs to sleep in his mom's bed because he's scared at night (both for being alone and for what she does with the landlord) she explains he must confront his Oedipal impulse, which theoretical reasoning doesn't appease the instinctive phobia of a child...

Inti holds on to the transitory father figures in orbit around his mother, to pick up advice and project himself in a future to look up to. This theme of an "orphaned" child raising him/herself was also present in the wonderful La Influencia (2007/Pedro Aguilera) at last year's Cannes Festival (Quinzaine 2007). And in this year's selection, Versailles (2008/Pierre Schoeller) tells the story of a boy raised by a marginal hobo. It's also an atmosphere we find in Cria Cuervos (1976/Saura) or Nobody Knows (2004/Kore-eda) with a little more attention to the sensibility of a child's vision of the world.

The crowd scenes of raving hippies, moving from one room to the next, from one conversation to the next, from inside to outside... seem inspired by Béla Tarr's famous ensemble mise-en-scène.
The hand held camera always on the move is an interesting device to express the astray confusion of both this clueless mother and these hallucinated hippie generation. But its execution might be a little too ambitious at times. Certain gesture and dialogue start on cue when crossing the path of the camera, in the style of a De Palma steadycam long take, and it comes out too self-conscious and calculated for this less sophisticated mise-en-scène. Certain events are too conveniently cut out of the film altogether with dubious ellipses which doesn't necessarily serve the asceticism of the dramatic narration.

29 mai 2008

Knitting (2008/Yin)

Cannes 2008 - La Quinzaine des Réalisateurs
Knitting / Niu Lang Zhi Nu (2008/YIN Lichuan/China)

Daping and Chen Jin, a poor young couple land in the big city (which I assume is Beijing) and struggle to make some money. Chen Jin is ready to work for illegal jobs to pay the rent. But soon a third person, Haili, comes in and breaks the equilibrium with the new rules of a ménage-à-trois. She's older but uses her charm, which drives the plump, reserved, low-self-esteemed Daping jealous.

I believe they are immigrants and feel a bit alienated by the local population, thus forced to live in the same room. And the tension arises from one of them feeling alternatively left out of a duo. Daping is very young and insecure with her body, so she's sulking. Haili knows that well and keeps on pressing random accusations and blames to turn upside down the opinion of the impressionable Chen Jin, who just tries to show off with more drinking and more money. Meanwhile Daping doesn't know how to cope with her unprepared pregnancy.

This sounds like an emotional drama, but it's actually very quiet and slow, like knitting (which ends up being only a tangential gimmick from the title). The film is cut in stand alone scenes illustrating a conflict or a state of mind, observing the protagonists from a distance. Without immediate dramatic continuity between scenes, despite leaving suspended some unfinished cues. The photography is rather contemplative, and the storytelling observational. Though the melodramatic situations, even if largely underplayed, remain too formulaic to be considered a Contemplative Cinema. But the cinematography is very interesting in this category of narrative cinema.

Each protagonist hides from the others an outward bond that inevitably pulls them apart. Daping finds comfort with her best friend, who teaches her how to knit. Chen Jin gets involved in a dangerous but prosperous criminal network. Haili, the most mysterious, saves money for her child left behind, back home.

We find reminiscence of early Hou Hsiao-hsien (The Boys from Fengkwei/1983) or early Jia Zhang-ke (Xiao Wu/1997; Unknown Pleasures/2002) without reaching a comparable plot development.
It tells us about the broken lives of our contemporaries in China, the issues of having to seek work away from your home, to leave behind your family, to overcome uncomfortable situations and disappointing dreams.

The ending is my favourite scene. When Chen Jin has disappeared, and the rival women came to term together, they replay the couple situation from the beginning. Daping became motherly overprotective with a baby in her arms, and the bossy Maili fills the shoes of the man in the house by running the business and telling Daping to stop drinking bear. This is a nice picture announcing so much of what happened in the film and what will develop thereafter.

06 mai 2008

Twin games about unfunny stuff (1)

Funny Games (1997-2007/Michael Haneke/Austria-USA), dual versions.
Opening Sequence :
Opera music opens the film. From a God's point of view, we see a car trucking a sail boat drive down the speedway. Classic exposition scene: the summer vacations atmosphere is set, upper class family, high-brow cultural taste, quiet moment away from the daily life. Aerial views of the car moving in traffic, in gradually closer shots to isolate it. The car plays hide and seek under the trees sheltering the sinuous road. The voices are heard before we see their faces. First we see close ups of the hand using the on-board CD player. Then the family trio through the wind shield. The model nuclear family, one single son (the spoiled child-king), is symbolized by this confined environment on wheels. A car like an armoured bubble protected from the rest of the world, culturally, socially. This individualistic society is emphasized by their high-security lake-shore property within a wealthy neighbourhood, similar to gated communities.
First game, a guessing game

The father and the mother play to each other a blind track from their collection of opera CDs. The child plays the arbiter to make sure neither cheats. In fact they are enacting an ironic drama: "I have a secret, can you guess what it is?" It's funny to hold a certain information and mock the silly guesses, the struggle with memory to find out this familiar name from a shared culture. Even the child who doesn't play, seems to find this situation entertaining. His parents are tested for their knowledge, their brains, their alertness, and alternatively look ridiculous and impressive.
Suddenly non-diegetic loud punk music covers the mundane dialogue behind the wind shield as we see the lips continue to move unaware of this aggressive blast of noise. The initial innocent game will set the rules of the horror to come.

This shot of a couple talking silently seen through the wind shield of their car reminds me of the opening sequence of Polanski's Knife in the water (1962), which, incidentally, also features a wealthy family driving to a sailing resort and picks up a foreign intruder along the way who will excite underlying tension within the couple and break apart their relationship. Also, between the original Funny Games (1997) and its remake, we have this german film, Summer '04 (2006) by Stefan Krohmer, where a family on sailing vacations will meet a stranger who dissolves the apparent happiness of this model family.

Though Haneke cuts short before any of these family drama consequences. And this couple sticks together against all evil till the end. But nothing says whether this traumatised couple would have survived much longer after this tragedy.

A (non)judgemental milieu

The arrival of the family at their spacious vacation villa caricatures the insular traits of the upper-class milieu. A trivial conversation about a golf game with the neighbors degrades into speculative gossips just because their polite salutations were not as enthusiastic as they expected. But in this hypocritical society they don't ask what's wrong, they just move on as if everything was normal. And that's the affected correctness excuse the intruders will use to infiltrate this very selective community, just like a Trojan horse.
There is no reason to suspect the intentions of the two young men in white since their income-equals next door invited them... or so they assumed. Since nobody asks embarrassing questions, they sneak in this house and will use the unspoken mutual trust of informal acquaintance to move to the next victims. Don't forget good manners get you anywhere.
An automatic gate with remote control, a barking dog, a shotgun and a knife prove to be ineffective against an insider using back doors, allegedly recommended by their peers. The major incentive to tolerate party crashers overstay their welcome is of course the risk to tarnish their good reputation because of a silly misunderstanding. We already noticed how the esteem for their neighbors started to lower just because the wife didn't return a "hello". Remember the scene from Lynch's INLAND EMPIRE (2006) where the neighbour lady comes out of the blue and gently forces her way into Nikki Grace's fancy villa.

This idea to turn the serial killer genre typical procedure into a viral disease is thought-provoking. They spread like plague, door to door, by means of human contact. The smart salesmen of an invisible crime virus.
It's because these bourgeois are highly judgemental and attached to superficial behaviour in private, and because they are hypocritically non-judgemental in public that reputation makes them to do things they would normally don't. Intentionally or not, the incognito-killer's current hostages not only covers them by lying to the visitors who come around, but they help them make new friends, soon-to-become victims. We see this at work from three sides.
First from the viewpoint of the unaware victim, when the protagonists meet the "choir boys" on their neighbour's front lawn, introduced as "relatives". Secondly (a countershot of this initial scene) from the viewpoint of the hostage, when the mother is obliged to lie to her friends who happen to sail by and, despite herself, introduces Paul to his next unaware victims. And finally, the closing scene, now knowing all about their standard procedure, we see the similar scene from the viewpoint of the aggressor, when he first knocks at the door of a potential victim. Like Peter did when he first asked the eggs.
In retrospect, we can reconstruct the context of the three "assaults" by interpolating what is not seen in the other scenes. By the end of the film we have a better idea of what happened to the neighbors (with hindsight their daughter was probably already dead when they were seen playing golf unenthusiastically), and in the final scene we realise the demons-in-angel-clothes will never bring back eggs supposedly required by the couple across the lake (since they are already dead).

Haneke plays around with what is said by a character and what is heard and assumed by another, with the space between what shall never be asked and what doesn't want to be known. That's how evil cleverly sneaks in the cracks, the language gap and the overcompensated polite correctness.

Ironically, Ozu plays the same game in Ohayo (1959), although never as revoltingly, when the two kids decide to call for a silent treatment and cause an escalation of misunderstandings within a convivial middle-class neighbourhood where the fear to earn bad reputation turns every little details, such as "good morning", suspicious.

Immaculate criminals

At the antipode of traditional serial-killer movies (which usually judge a book from its cover), Haneke chooses not to demonize his villains. They aren't crazy-looking, ugly, repulsive, scary, impressive or even threatening. They are regular guys, younger, well-mannered, educated, helping, smiling, cute faced, seemingly harmless and dressed in virginal white.
Like a caddie or a butler, they wear white gloves (which doesn't seem to surprise anyone in this conservative milieu). Paul says the gloves protect others from his eczema, but maybe they protect him from direct contact with his victims. Above all they are fingerprint-proof!
This immaculate purity goes against the basic rules of empathy in conventional genre movies, and makes the audience all the more disappointed when they realize they have been manipulated into rooting for the poor guys who are unjustly kicked out by the moody family mother. The cool attitude of youth versus the uptight superior bourgeoisie. Until we realise how far the "game" goes... when they finally confess their intention to kill them.

In fact the gentlemen-killers are the main protagonists and the narration assumes the evil viewpoint, with their procedure in plain view for a change. The tension relies on a huis-clos setting (single location drama). The suspense doesn't play out on a parallel montage showing the police investigation on one side and the criminals whereabouts (or only their shadow/traces) on the other side to build up the traditional converging, climactic chase.
The movie doesn't even seem to leave hope for any help from the outside (the phone doesn't work, the cars don't stop, no neighbors around within walking distance). Actually, these criminals seem overconfident and omniscient like a Devil incarnation. They know everyone and every house layout in the area, the short cuts, the security systems. They never seem to bother for their safety, to be careful not to alert the neighbors, to worry about the police or an armed stranger popping out... They are in control of everything, never surprised, always adapting, cold-bloodedly improvising, always ready to counter any reactions of the victims without taking precautions. As if they rehearsed this routine all their life. They walk in with empty pockets, then conveniently pick up a blunt object (a golf club) from their victims on site, and as the situation gets more unstable, a shotgun and duct tape become handy. But words are their main deterrent throughout.
There is no real expectation of them being caught. The film relies entirely on the cat and mouse game between the intruders and the victims.

to be continued... next part here

16 septembre 2007

Afternoon Times (2005/Boonsinsukh)

File 067/Afternoon Times (2005/Tossapol Boonsinsukh/Thailand) ++

Opening Sequence : The voice of the protagonist, Bo (Pijika Hanzedkarn), is heard without image talking on the phone (pitch black screen). The offscreen conversation carries on over a stationary frontal shot of a wall scattered with photographs of friends, in dim light. We understand that Bo is opening her new cafe soon and invites various long-forgotten acquaintances to the inauguration. The camera pans to reveal Bo through the kitchen door. The long take captures a mundane activity in real time, as she hangs up, looks for the next number, dials again, and repeats her attempt. The mood of the film is set with a simple shot which contains the heart of the drama. Solitude, estrangement, nonchalance and lack of attention.
Bo, in her early twenties, engages in a new life, by starting up her own business. It's the dreaded time when everyone we used to know follow their own path, travel, move abroad, work intensively or found a family. College friends lose touch and begin a solitary life on their own, building a new social network in a new social environment.
Her friends are all there with her on the wall, nostalgic memories, still fresh in her mind, with the frozen smiles and funny faces posed for the camera. But all belongs to a bygone era of carefree entertainment. Now she's alone, desperately seeking for available friends, like a market researcher, to share her joyful pride with. She would like them to launch the word-of-mouth and bring in many customers. Unfortunately the calls we overheard don't seem very successful. She's got more friends on photos than real people in her present life. A sentiment of profound abandonment sinks in, with remarkable restraint, as the shot keeps on running long after the phone calls are over, staring at her walking around in silence.

Afternoon Times is a beautiful little film made by students with the most basic production equipment to the greatest effects. The creativity of a sobre mise-en-scene, the daring transcendence of small moments, the mundane poetry... all make it an adorable, melancholic episode suspended in time. The very prototype of the Contemplative Cinema trend. Like a haunting memory revisited intact, stripped of superfluous details, these characters are caught in a strange whirlpool of redundant events. Repetition and variation.
The careful observation of minimal gestures throughout the day recalls Chantal Akerman's film which was one of the most important pionneer of "Contemplative Cinema" : Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1976). Likewise emphasis is put on body language of non-speaking people. Stationary shots frame the situations in self-contained tableaux, that render the presence of a "surveillance camera" invisible while bringing attention to the private life happening in front of our voyeur eyes. We can see what people do when nobody is looking at them, when they don't have to play a social role in front of someone else. A perspective also featured in the segments of Hou Hsiao-hsien's Three Times (2005).

A brownish, darker evening light dominated the introductory shot, a feeling of anxiety and despair caused by the anticipation of her café grand opening. Later, a brighter sunny morning light shines on the film, tinted with a metallic blueish hue celebrating its fresh, acid, melancholic, surreal atmosphere. Congratulations to the cinematographer (Nalina Tungkanokvitaya) who does a wonderful job with natural lighting.

A delivery boy brings a baguette every morning. He's the only person Bo becomes familiar with along her redundant routine. Although their contact is strictly professional, regulated by a polite yet reserved, even timid, etiquette. Without a word he hands over the bread, she gives a banknote, he returns the change. A long trained composure. An automatized ceremonial.

The photographic memorization motif, which structures the entire film, will come as an ice-breaker for them. Upon one of his delivery he's asked to take a picture of her with her friends to immortalize the inauguration of the café. I love this type of microcosmic scenes encapsulating unspoken emotions into unsignificant acts, which we find aplenty in Miranda July's Me And You And Everyone We Know (2005) for instance. In this world of lonely disconnected individuals, every little task is an opportunity to meet with somebody else's private sphere and hopefully to step in for an instant in their sealed bubble, if the situation is not too awkward of course. Here, the favor to take a group picture for her becomes a tacit connection. The polaroid camera is used as a proxy device for interpersonal socialization with a total stranger, like with a lighter or a watch in the street. She asks "Can you take a picture for me?", but what she really means is "Hey, take a look at me please!"

This central theme of self-representation, announced in the opening shot, fully expresses the distanciation of human relationship in today's virtualized world. Without the polaroid they are confused strangers looking at their feet ashamed of themselves. But hidden behind the camera viewfinder he could lay his gaze upon her. Conversly, under the excuse of posing with her friends, she can show off her largest smile without obviously seeming to seduce him. The self-esteem is preserved for both of them.
Even though they are not aware yet of this blooming romance, the film catches there the pre-historic, founding moment of their future bond. She puts up the polaroid picture on the wall, with the other pictures. But what it stands for is less the friends we can see on the image than the invisible photographer who took it.


After this defining moment, that will only become meaningful to them and the audience later on, the daily routine and the recurring scenes will unfold according to the slow pace of time flowing by. Careful shots of dishwashing, window cleaning, housekeeping in silence and solitude. Times of inner ruminations, patient wait and reverie accompanied by the absorbing melody on a diegetic cassette with classical music. A catchy repetitive soundtrack reminiscent of Kikujiro (1999). Meanwhile the short length of this one music track marks the passage of time, as she has to rewind the cassette manually to repeat the play. Another little task indicative of the actual duration of life moments. Another opportunity for him and her to connect through a common taste for this music.

The whole story is articulated in seasonal chapters entitled "Afternoon Times", "Summer", "Rain", "Winter", "Summer later"

In a funny scene, Bo dresses like a tourist, with sunglasses, backpack, camera, and pretends to visit this splendid café for the first time. She contemplates cautiously every little object decorating the place, with a self-satisfied admiration, projecting into this fictional character the ideal customer she'd like to serve if the turnout wasn't so poor. She then unpacks her sleeping bag on the floor and stares at the ceiling. It's nice to remember a similar scene in Me And You And Everyone We Know when the kids wondered what it would be like if the world was upside down.

On a rainy day, he's soaked and she gives him a towel. Is it because the light is darker, because the rain pours outside, because the wet clothes wear out the usual respectful distances, or because of this tender gesture showing care? After so many meetings at regular hours for the bread, they seem to look at eachother with different eyes this time. No word spoken yet, no effusion of sentiments. Just a memorable moment shared intimately, the secret happiness of being together. An awkward silence extended indefinitely, planted face to face, which would normally make anybody uncomfortable. Though none of them seems in a hurry to break this tensed silence. They soon return to their lives without uttering a word.

The cassette jams in a bundle and so begins the time without music.

The next visit, surrealism creeps in for a moment of arrested poetry. Within the uncut course of a long take stretching over 6 minutes, they are mysteriously locked inside when he delivered the bread. The locksmith can't even rescue them because rains is still pouring outside. By a welcomed enchantment they are miraculously stuck together for a while. They resolve to wait, and she offers to cook a meal for him. The strange ways of fate has kept them close together for a longer time than their usual commercial transaction. As oddly as it occured, the temporary spell is broken when he finished his food and the door now opens naturally. He wondered why the habitual music wasn't playing and promises to bring her a new tape. But he doesn't come back the next day, someone else's delivers bread.

She paints dozens of childish drawings representing a fish, a horse, a camera (again the motif of self-representation), countless rows of dashes... and a delivery boy with a baguette in a bag. She loses appetite. Her business is running down. She has to move out. The walls are covered with copies of the same drawing of the delivery boy, like the identical frames of a film strip, like a dismantled cartoon. The paintings have replaced and covered up the photos on her wall. A new medium of representation illustrates the memories of her second life, leaving the photos behind.

Another uncut long take runs for nearly 15 minutes for the second last scene. In one plan sequence the whole set is packed into boxes, just like if the shooting was over, she clears the borrowed premises, helped by a friend. All drawings are picked up one by one, all pictures, and decorative objects. When he asks why she paints, why she takes pictures, she replies "to kill time", "no particular reason" to futher burry her feelings and regrets...
We realize that life is like a movie production, good times are like afternoon times, they last only a while and then we have to move on and get over them. Memories fit in a little box.




The closing shot, brings back the music in the film, after a long silent shot onboard a taxi, showing a close up of her disillusionned face. Her music, their music, re-appear in non-diegetic form, as if the cassette was playing in her mind, and puts a gentle smile on her face. The film considers the archiving of vain memories, as well as the unconscious, intangible making of important ones. The smallest moments of life we never pay attention to, which slam back in our mind when the loss become more sensible. This is a delicate and touching expression of the construction of our sentimental personality.

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  • If you're interested in seeing this student film (not yet available commercialy), please contact directly the director, TOSSAPOL BOONSINSUKH, at this email.

P.S. My apologizes to Tossapol for taking so long to finally write up this long overdue review. And many thanks to CelineJulie at Limiteless Cinema for recommending this beautifully contemplative film.

04 mars 2007

I Graduated But... (1929/Ozu)

Daigaku wa deta keredo / I graduated, but... (1929/Ozu Yasujiro/Japan)

10th B&W silent film made (Shochiku Kamata studio), 3rd surviving film (incomplete). Only 12 minutes remain from this feature length film, completed by intertitles. But it's not too difficult to follow the plot. Original screenplay by Hiroshi Shimizu, friend of Ozu. Filmed and released in the summer before the NY stock market crash (October 1929). The economic crisis is perceptible, young graduates struggle to find a job.


Tetsuo, the protagonist, is proud and turns down a receptionist job offer because it is not good enough for his level of qualification. When his mother visits him and his young wife, afraid to lose face, he lies about having found a great job. The japanese social status is identified through the work position held. It is primordial never to lose face in society. This distance between the fantasized role expected by the parents, the significant other, the neighbors, the colleagues... and a more modest reality is the root of many dramatical situations in japanese films. Saving appearances in the present is prioritized over the planning of a comfortable future. Thus extravagant expenses are made to impress visitors even if the family cannot afford it. Likewise the poor couple in The Only Son (1936), will sacrifice savings to honor the visiting mother.


Nevertheless he's happy to take out his mother for Tokyo sightseeings, but she's worried taking a day off from his new job would be impolite. So he's forced to live up to the condition of his lie, to wake up early and not spend time with his family like he'd want to.

After his mother left, he confesses to his wife through a visual cue, an interesting interplay between the silent image and the written intertitle. We see the cover of a "Sunday" newspaper, and the carton says "For me, everyday is like this". A discreet allusion, an euphemism, helping to communicate a shameful truth without the obligation of spelling it all out.


A wall-sized poster of Harold Lloyd's movie Speedy (1928/Ted Wild) takes a prominent place in the interior scenes, sometimes filling the entire background of a medium shot. I haven't seen this film, so I don't know what comparison we could thread from this citation. Although it's fascinating to see a contemporary foreign movie exposed this way, which is frequent in early Ozu silent films. The release of Speedy is only a few months earlier than I graduated, but...
We couldn't imagine this type of honor in today's cinema, with movies citing each other or showing the poster of last year's movie (except for intentional parodies), let alone the copyrights infringement and studio competition issues!


Ultimately, Tetsuo takes down his personal pride and lowers his expectations in order to find the smallest job at all costs, when he finds out the temporary job his wife has found to support the household was of a bar hostess, in a bar he visited with one of his student friend. We find this socially degrading situation in Brothers and Sisters of the Today Family (1941), where the unmarried daugther of a rich family is lectured by her older sister(-in-law?) about family humiliation. She's opposed to her project to take a job as a shop clerk, in the case she would face the humiliation to be served by her own relative.
The job of a bar hostess, who lights the cigarettes of customers, is also highly connoted sexualy.


Tetsuo comes back to the first company to accept the receptionist job. The moral lesson is well stated: His boss, who had a smirk and complicite looks with a colleague to emphasize the pressure in the first scene. Since Tetsuo has matured since their last interview, he concedes to give him a decent position in the company. It was only a test of modesty and submission to channel his young ego.

03 mars 2007

What Did the Lady Forget? (1937/Ozu)

Shukujo wa nani o wasureta ka / What Did the Lady Forget? (1937/Ozu Yasujiro/Japan) ++

37th B&W film made (Shochiku studio), 19th surviving film. 2nd Talky fiction.

Opening Sequence : Camera onboard a car, looking into the reflection of the back of a chrome spherical headlight. The car is driving across the rich neighborhood of a Tokyo suburb (Kojimachi). An odd shot we see in The Lady and The Beard (1931) and Dragnet Girl (1933), or in Epstein's La Glace à trois faces (1927).

Wealthy wives are established as castrating dominators in the house, controlling their husbands' timetable and activities, sharing gossips on neighbors and concerned by fashion and beauty. In an hilarious scene, the older lady tells the others how she muffles her laughter to avoid aging lines around the eyes. This ravishing comedy departs from Ozu's usual filmography (student films, mafia films, family drama) with an upperclass setting and a world essentialy dominated by powerful women.

Komiya, the husband, is a respected doctor at the university, cheerful and relaxed. We meet him his eyes into a binocular, answering the phone without looking away, and comfirming abruptly to the caller his sterilty from what he sees. Whereas at home he's bland and submissive. He lies and hides away to pass the compulsary golf weekend imposed by his ruling wife, Tokio.

The arrival of their liberated niece from Osaka, Setsuko, will expose the contradictions of their sustained routine. Setsuko, 16 yold, came to Tokyo for its modern life, and feels sorry for what she finds in this backward household. She wears western clothes, drives, smokes, drinks sake, and goes to the Geisha house. The spoiled brat of a rich provincial family, but so cute and high-spirited. Unexpectedly, as open-minded as she may be, she lectures her uncle for his passive attitude, and begs him to take control of the house back like a real man, even suggesting to beat his wife!


"I drink upon occasion, sometimes upon no occasion." Don Quixote

Ozu films twice this citation written in big letters above the bar counter, in a slow Close Up shot revealing word after word. We also see this citation in the bar of the film The Munekata Sisters (1950).
There is a scene in a Kabuki theatre where we see the faces of the audience, but never the stage, only music and voices are heard off screen.
Again Ozu repeats the trick at the Geisha house, until he finally films the dance number of 2 geishas in a long uninterrupted take!

Many comical situations punctuate the little household until the secret is discovered. Notably another hilarious scene where Komiya is supposed to lecture the undisciplined niece, but was asking her a favor instead, as his wife enters and they fake the argument.
Finally, Komiya explains to the young girl that sometimes a man should take the "opposite approach" : to let the wife believe she's in control. And she automatically notices this gimmick in the behavior of her boyfriend because he seems to approve whatever she says too often. A great comedic treatment of a critique of the conversational phrases and the mundane etiquette, just like in Ohayo (1959).

The ending is beautiful! After telling her (admirative) friends she got slapped in the face, almost proud, Tokio is transformed, in love again, as if she had lost hope in the virility of her husband. Back home she's all sweet and treats her husband with a late coffee, even though he's afraid to be unable to sleep if he takes a cup. Precisely it's what she has in mind. And he understands her unspoken desire while she's away, with a smile on his face. In one ultimate stationary shot : the lights go down in the house, one by one. All excited he walks in circle, backlit in the bedroom. And his wife comes back with the coffee at the end of the corridor. Black. The End. Isn't it a more subtle and amusing allegory for marital sex than Hitchcock's train/tunnel or fireworks metaphors? ;)


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26 février 2007

The Lady and the Beard (1931/Ozu)

Shukujo to hige / The Lady and the Beard (1931/Ozu Yasujiro/Japan) ++

19th silent film made at the Shochiku Kamata studio, shot in 8 days. 7th surviving film.
Comedy of manners confronting a poor misogynist bachelor, Kiichi, with 3 cute women : the street thug, the innocent low-class clerk and an aristocrat.

Kiichi is a Kendo champion, brave and honest, with a childish and asocial behavior, lives alone in a dirty appartment. His beard and repaired clothes ridiculize him in society. Ozu portrays here a stereotypical world opposing the ancient regime incarnated by the martial art tradition, kimono and facial hair, to the modern Japan of the westernized fashion, suits, office work. We can sense the inspiration of Chaplin humor in this negligent tramp causing etiquette troubles in public because he doesn't fit in.

The film opens at a Kendo tournament showing Kiichi hidden under his Kendo helmet, delaying the revelation of the face of the popular actor, Okada Tokihiko, and his notorious beard. During his domination of all opponents, only body language conveys the visual gags. His purely physical performance already identifies a peculiar personality, like Mifune Toshiro with his famous shoulder shake. It's an interesting establishing scene for a silent movie, where the audience cannot identify to the voice nor the face of the lead actor. And we have to contemplate the spectacle of this choreography of lookalike "puppets" battling together until we understand who is who.
In the street his confident saber skills help him to rescue a lone woman racketed by a street gang, conducted by a female thug. Invited at the fancy birthday party of an aristocrat heiress he scares away all the girls but leaves a strong impression with his traditional dance. Once convinced to shave his antic beard to become a modern gentleman, women will fall for him and he'll be embarassed by marriage proposals. The coincidence of three women from different social classes running after him creates a series of humorous misunderstandings. From unpleasant and clumsy he tries hard to seduce his chosen sweetheart.
Pure entertainment routine (one of the last ones) from Ozu's early period. The visual running gags are quite funny and staged with originality. Very amusing. There is an exterior travelling with the camera looking into a spherical chrome headlight of a driving car, which reflects the city streets, deformed. A shot Ozu used in other early films as well.
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17 novembre 2006

Pan's Tests

Continuation from page 1 and 2. Pan's Labyrinth (2006/Del Toro)

Pan's magic book. Ofelia can only read it when she's alone (i.e. without adults/unbelievers around) because its pages are blank and a magic ink forms letters and drawings. The book is empty because Ofelia creates her own fantasy. After reading over and over her old books, she's now prepared to write her own story. The insect mistaken for a fairy, is named as such by Ofelia herself (she initiated this fantasy by projecting her imagination onto a detail of the real world, the fantasy world doesn't come to her, she spells out the magic identity of a common insect).

Pan orders 3 symbolic tasks to the young cursed princess who lost immortality. A crescent on her shoulder proves the unbelievable prophecy. Fable of regressive initiation, from an abominable reality to the retreat of an idyllic fantasy, from orphan to recomposed family, from unbearable life to dreamlike death. War killed the child, her innocence, her world. A painful and sudden transition to adulthood.

Pan's 3 tasks (dreamwork analysis) :

1) First Test
A giant toad lives under the roots of the biggest tree in the forest, and made it die out. Ofelia shall toss 3 magic stones into its mouth and retrieve a golden key from its guts.

This is a test of fear domination (dark hole with bugs, disgusting monster), and transgression of parental authority (runaway, dirty fancy clothes, late to dinner). Ofelia spells it out under the tree : "you don't scare me, I'm the princess". She also says "Look at you, you're so fat, aren't you ashamed to live under there and eat bugs?". I wonder if the 3 magic balls are the pills given by the doctor to her mother, and through fantasy she allows herself to blame her mother (for her deformed pregnant belly). The key is usually a male sexual symbol, if found inside the toad's belly, maybe it's an allegory for the fecondation of her mother by Vidal, which she disagrees and secretly wishes the abortion (the toad expels out its guts and deflates). She also says at the beginning of the film that the baby is the reason her mother is sick, so all this (Vidal and the baby) takes her mother away from her. She craves to return when she was the only center of attention, before the new baby, before her father died (ideal situation she finds again in death, in the final scene).
Only that she wears the fancy dress her mother wanted Ofelia to wear for the official dinner with her step-father. She wears a "princess gown", but doesn't want to make her stepfather happy so she's drawn to disobey : her dress is all dirty (to hurt her mother) and she's late (to hurt Vidal who is maniac with punctuality). The test is a success for her fantasy mission (she earns credit), but it's disastrous in the real world (punished).
This first task is her first attempt to help cure her mother by taking out the baby (out of anger).

Interlude (1)

Ofelia cannot go on with her next task because her mother is sick. When she opens the magic book, red ink forms a bloody uterus (like a Roshach inkblot test), and fills the page with red. Like a divination, Ofelia foresees the next scene when Carmen loses blood. Maybe this traumatic experience has to do with the first menstruation of a girl (blood, entering womanhood, fecundity, association with mother's pregnancy, pain).
Pan, impatient, comes to remind her duty. Then offers a mandrake (foetus symbol) that will cure Carmen if placed under her bed, bathed in milk and fed with 2 drops of blood every day (echo of the 2 drops of drug prescribed by the doctor in real world). This vegetal foetus evokes the doppleganger substitutions in Ferrara's Body Snatcher (1993).

2) Second Test

Magic chalk that opens passages to another dimension (symbol of her desire to get out of this world). Hourglass (time symbol referring to Vidal's obsession). One of three safe (wooden, iron, silver, or something like that) to open with the golden key (reminds of the choice for the right Grail, which is not the shiniest), and find the dagger for the final sacrifice (mirrors Mercedes' knife that will stab Vidal). Feast table temptation (interdiction to eat anything, echo of her punishment after first task).
Pale Man : Ogre threat to enforce the interdiction through terror ("what lives there is not human" says Pan). 2 fairies die to save Ofelia because she fell into temptation.
Pale Man is a peculiar monster, scary looking but slow and handicapped (no ears, eyes in his palms). Del Toro explains the orbits in his hands are christlike stigmata, but the symbolism is more complicated. It's disturbingly analogous to the aspect of a phallus (floppy bare skin, bold head, it's called "Pale Man"). The association to treat temptation (grape) from a pervert, the illustrations on the wall of the Pale Man chasing children, devouring them... suggests discreetly a sexual/incestuous molestation in symbolic form (maybe Vidal, although this subplot is very shy). Next to the stoic monster lays a pile of children shoes, remnant of his past victims (a shocking sight recalling the imagery of extermination camps).
Ofelia eats grape from the forbidden table (original sin of the fruit from the tree of knowledge in the Bible = loss of innocence, shame of nudity, sexual guilt of mortals), thus fails her task, but surprisingly manages to escape the monster by opening another door after the hourglass exhausted (which is a contradiction of the rules imposed upfront by Pan, apparently threats and orders aren't as incorruptible as in traditional fairytales... re-interpretation and last minute changes are always welcome).

Interlude (2)

Ofelia hands over the dagger, but confesses eating the grape, Pan is furious and abandons her, she will never be immortal. Although the mandrake dried up, Carmen feels better, the doctor can't explain this remission. Vidal finds out, and Carmen throws the root in the fire "Magic doesn't exist!" she says, and she suddenly falls very ill again. Vidal had just killed the doctor so Carmen won't be saved... only the baby survives. Ofelia, orphan, is definitely separated from her past, and her mother who compromised with the evil side, now her surrogate mother, Mercedes takes over, and she can fully embrace the rebel side (denial of order, passage to clandestinity).

3) The sacrifice

The final task is to bring the baby to the altar where Pan will shed his blood to re-open the gates of Ofelia's kingdom and grant her immortality. Test of faith (in Pan) v. reason (of her heart). But she refuses, and like Vidal had to choose between saving Carmen or his son, Ofelia offers her life in exchange to save the baby (saved twice from death by the mimetic sacrifice of both Carmen and Ofelia).
Del Toro makes a special twist of the Bible's archetypical sacrifice. Abraham surrenders his reasoning to pure blind faith when God asked him to kill his only son Isaac. The philosophy of this act is not the horror of murdering one's own child, but the absolute trust in a superior Good that man cannot foresee and shall not question. In fact God stops the sword to spare Isaac's life once Abraham has proven his faith to comply without arguing. But Del Toro turns this reference upside down, and questions the faith in a superior messenger and the application of solemn promise (dispute of unjust orders). A 12 yold girl doubts the command from the god Pan, who purposely tricked her to follow a deviant order. The film makes a case for the sovereignty of the individual's choice, and even suggests God can be fallible.