Hunger is Steve McQueen's unforgettable dramatization of a volatile period in Irish and British history. If we can apply all the factions of war to the individuals involved, then we can and should call it as such –though the common man is seldom able to dictate history. The key battleground where it was waged was the Maze prison in Northern Ireland. The leader of the opposition was Bobby Sands, whose written words shortly before his death, “I am standing on the threshold of another trembling world,” rang true for the members of Irish Republican Army. Dozens of IRA soldiers, unkempt and uniform in misery, withstood years of imprisonment and torture whilst those on the outside continued efforts to have the entity recognized as a political one –thus rendering those taken in as political prisoners instead of the terrorists they were publicly deemed.
McQueen's political sympathies are quite clear in the film, and his background in contemporary art is not only blatant in the work, but recognized in moments of ethereal beauty. Narratively, the film is not of the norm in terms of the characters we follow and the amount of time dedicated to each. In fact Sands (played by Michael Fassbender) hardly appears in the film until the final 3rd of it. It opens by following the daily routines of Raymond (Stuart Graham), a prison official: icing his swollen knuckles after beating inmates, smoking, checking under his car for explosives planted by the IRA, sitting alone amongst bombastic colleagues at lunch break. One is never aware if he is coming undone or reeling in a sociopathic void. I don't think he even utters a word. His segment, and a brief glimpse later in the feature, are not necessarily a looking-glass in the supposed inner-conflict of those with the upper-hand, but they do offer a realistic vision in terms of the psychological turmoil that had to be a reality for at least some of the guards involved.Continue Reading
Come on Children
It didn't occur to me until a few years ago that “teenage” is a concept that's not all that old. I'm sure that there are places in the world where is doesn't, and never did, exist. For most cultures, there has always been a sort of initiation into adulthood by way of customary or religious celebration. A way to make the change less mundane. Perhaps intended to alleviate or lessen the pangs of transitioning into an adult, the identity of a teenager gave and continues to give people a kind of social weaning. A time where it is allowed and expected for one to experiment with new ideas and figure out just what they want to do in their passively thought-of futures. I'm not sure that much consideration or weight has been given to the results of this. Parents are often sited as ones we cannot identify with, specifically when we are teens. That stance seems reasonable; the times play a huge role in the social construct of a teenager, and times are always a-changin'.
Come on Children is a modest documentary on the subject of a teenage disillusionment and its effects. Director Allan King (A Married Couple, Warrendale) and colleagues grew intrigued at the amount of regurgitated complaints from teens that seemed certain that their lives would be much more enjoyable if it weren't for their nagging parents, cops and teachers. So, they gathered twelve youths from the suburbs of Toronto, ages 13 to 19, and took them to a farm without supervision. The youngsters were all from the same middle-class background, with attentive families and, even in their home life, a considerable amount of freedom. One of the group is 9 months pregnant and stays on the farm with the newborn, another is a father already but estranged from his former girlfriend. There's a puppy and two cats and plenty of beer, pot, acid and cigarettes to go around. Even a bit speed, brought by the most boisterous participant, John Hamilton.Continue Reading
There were three points of interest for me when hearing about Crumbs. I had yet to see an Ethiopian film, admittedly. It being a sci-fi film made it even more intriguing. Lastly, it is the debut feature film of Miguel Llansó, a Spanish filmmaker who previously directed several shorts and seems to have an affinity for journeys, both mentally and spatially. I suppose it's always refreshing to become aware of an up-and-coming artist for a cineaste. However, since it is an independent film, the limitations attached were given consideration and my expectations were not necessarily lessened but most certainly lenient to what is reasonable and pragmatic. Perhaps that stance allowed for such a surprising and enjoyable experience.
As made evident in my review of Children of Men, there lacks a personal interest for me in science fiction on a broad scale. The unrelatable plots and inadequate or non-existent social commentary often makes me feel like a moth fumbling around a bright light that fails to burn hot enough for me to combust. That being stated, films that successfully remind me of my own mortality and culture leave a most-welcome impression--even if they are sci-fi. While it is a Spanish-Ethiopian production, Crumbs is a bizarre and oft-hilarious tale of Western influence and its global permanence. A permanence that, in theory, cannot even be washed away by an apocalypse.Continue Reading
Love & Anarchy
Assassination and anarchy are two terms that are almost absent in our current use of language. They are historical terms. Bold terms that suggest justice by ugly, self-sacrificing means. Now we say that someone of power, who is perceived threatening and unjust, has been slain, killed, etc. Love & Anarchy sheds a bit of light on why the terms and practice of such measures have gone out of favor - even among the most militant activists.
The protagonist of this film is Tunin (Giancarlo Giannini), a freckled country boy who looks like a caricature and behaves more like a sheep than a herder. Though meek, he has only one thing on his mind: assassinate the fascist dictator Benito Mussolini. It’s hard to root for him on sight alone or take his quest seriously, which is the predicament that Salome (Mariangela Melato) finds herself in. Salome is one of the most sought after prostitutes in Rome at established brothel of high esteem. She is also a spy for the Communist regime and contact for young men sent to carry out the grandest feat of their lives. She’s currently bedding Mussolini’s head of security, who has confided several key bits of information that seem uninteresting but can be used to an anarchist’s advantage.Continue Reading
When I was 13, I was asked to play a peculiar game in class. At the request of our teacher, my peers and I were asked to draw four squares on a piece of paper. Inside each square we were to write the name of a loved one. We were then given a hypothetical scenario to consider: imagine being swept away to an island after a plane carrying you and your loved ones crashes - but you can only take one person with you. Everyone chose a parent or sibling. In retrospect, I suppose the point of the game was to make us realize that the person we chose could not meet all our needs in life. We could not propagate with this person, or grow to understand certain aspects of the human condition. The wise choice, we were told, would have been to look deeper into our futures and save the last square for a future partner. The whole thing confused and terrified us for weeks.
Lena Wertmüller’s Swept Away puts an endearing, comedic and political spin on such a scenario. A small group of wealthy adults are vacationing on a private sail boat far at sea. At their service is a modest company of poor Sicilian men. The rich are mostly comprised of married couples of no particular importance, but the most outspoken and vivacious of them all is Raffaella (Mariangela Melato). Raffaella loves to start political arguments or complain about the service, food and the state of Italy in the same breath. When not doing that, she’s gambling below decks or immodestly sunbathing. All to the outraged disbelief of Gennarino (Giancarlo Giannini), a proud servant with whom she seems to enjoy fleshing out an example of everything wrong with socialism and communism. The two practically hate each other, for Gennarino is a defensive member of the Party she so fiendishly puts down. She is also, to his standards, morally bankrupt--and his machismo spirit is rapidly downtrodden when at odds against the “liberated” female.Continue Reading
Funeral Parade of Roses
“I’m a wound and sword, a victim and an executioner.” - Funeral Parade of Roses
Provocation is born from relativity, and originality in its broadest sense can be a pretension that hinders many films. While filmmakers dare, still, to produce original and thought-provoking works without noting the context or relevancy of their efforts, Toshio Matsumoto was able to present something quite spectacular with his debut feature film, Funeral Parade of Roses - a masterpiece that appeals to the age-old desire to be loved and the accepted curse of being misunderstood. Here one can find a visual experience that says nothing definitely and therefore can speak to everyone, particularly those who enjoy avant-garde. Its also a direct ode to several key individuals of the beat generation and Warhol scene, as well as an interesting reworking of the Electra complex.Continue Reading
To open a film with mischief is to prepare an audience for unknown degrees of tension. One is unaware of its magnitude or meaning at first, but hyperaware of its presence throughout the work. Tony Richardson's Mademoiselle begins with the breathtaking Jeanne Moreau (Elevator to the Gallows) tampering with the village sluice gate, causing a flood. She walks away from this menacing act only to stumble upon another opportunity for destruction; she crushes eggs in an onlooking bird's nest. This immediate and blatant portrait of sadism--outlined by serenity and juxtaposed with glimpses of the annual springtime procession through the fields--is one of the most powerful first impressions of a character that I've yet to behold. It's enough to make one utter "And this is only the beginning...."
Richardson keeps an impeccable pace throughout the film. We are thrust into one of many chaotic scenarios as farmers try to save their livestock from drowning. Here we are introduced to the town "hero," a strapping Italian named Manou (Ettore Manni, City of Women) who has developed a bit of a bad reputation despite his valiant efforts. His good looks have placed him with several women from the town, all of whom are either married and/or Catholic, and therefore expected to maintain their chastity until being so. His perceived weak morality and status as an immigrant has made him and his preteen son despised in a small town that is already in arms over their unknown and dangerous vandal.Continue Reading
No one has heard of Director Pino Amenta. The name John Waters has always brought to mind the Baltimore cult director instead of the English actor. Almost everyone has heard of Guy Pearce, who was introduced in Heaven Tonight—a dated melodrama circulating a strained relationship between a father and his son. The weight of their troubles doesn't have anything to do with your standard fare of family drama, like one of the members abusing substances to the point of domestic strife. The issues that Johnny Dysart (John Waters) and his teenage son, Paul (Guy Pearce), are having are based on talent. Johnny is a failing musician and a has-been after a short-lived but illustrious career 20 years prior. Like many bands from the '60s, his was one that was going to become the next Beach Boys or Beatles—hitting the top of the charts and soon to tour the world. All it took was for his best friend and bandmate to become a junkie and the band collapsed. Now young Paul is climbing to the top with his electro group and doing so without the help of his father. His determination and position as the leader of other young men who are keen on success is not only impressive, but the target of envy and resentment from his displaced father.
Still, things in the Dysart household have stayed relatively steady over the years. Everyone gets along for the most part and Johnny's wife, Annie (Rebecca Gilling), is waiting patiently, and with great understanding, for her husband to put away his guitar and settle down into middle age. Johnny, oblivious to the strain his nonexistent career is putting on his family, is waiting for his last chance to come through. He's finished another album and chases after an old colleague in the business to give him an answer in terms of releasing it. Annie has been the major breadwinner of the family, and with a new business opportunity on her hands she's ready to take a risk and wants her husband to be included. Meanwhile young Paul and his group starts to really become popular and he desperately wants his father's approval and attention. All of this is put to the side when Johnny's troubled old friend and former bandmate, Baz (Kim Gyngell), comes crawling back into their lives and leaves an impact that has the potential to destroy their progress as a family unit.Continue Reading
Children of Men
Can one really imagine a city underwater? A meteor penetrating the Earth's ozone layer after a team of rogues tries to stop it? Dormant aliens or complex thinking machines rising from the Earth's core? Zombies dressed like your neighbors who hunt down the fit and handsome last man on Earth? The answer is a resounding “no.” But infertility...inhumane policing of immigrants...turmoil and depravity...a civilized and desperate reach towards mankind's will to sustain and overcome—well, that's an apocalypse that is much more tangible. Alfonso Cuaron's slow burn to the end of mankind paints a poetic picture of biblical proportions. One that not only allows the viewer to sink into a mortifying suspense of disbelief, but also manages to exemplify a relevant and powerful social commentary; a science-fiction for realists.
Cuaron's name seems to be on a lot of people's tongues following the recent release and accolades of Gravity, but Children of Men is a masterpiece that, while commercially a success, fell short of the sort of interest and praise of his latest work. It's as though fans of the genre were still caught up in the thrill and evolution of robots and outdated imagination. Perhaps the grizzly immigration aspect struck a nerve or was regarded as too controversial.Continue Reading
Let the Right One In
Aside from being regarded as one of the best vampire movies to date, Tomas Alfredson's Let the Right One In is also one of the most apathetic and emotionally involving coming of age films. Its ability to paint a literally frozen portrait of Sweden post-Red Curtain while zoning in on the woes of childhood issues ranging from bullying to first love goes beyond the confines of a genre and allows the work to reach a rare platform of relatability that is truly a pleasure to behold.
Taking place in a small suburb of Sweden in the early '80s, the film is told through the experiences of Oskar (Kare Hedebrant)—a lonely pre-teen whose friendless existence and somewhat helpless position of a bullied youth has instilled in him a fascination with morbidness while simultaneously nurturing his eccentric personality. When a middle-aged man and his daughter move into the flat next door, Oskar takes a chance at befriending Eli (Lina Leandersson), the little girl.Continue Reading