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Bombay Beach

Bombay Beach

Directed by: Alma Har'el

2011

A surreal trip into the scraps of a broken dream. Poetic, poignant and amazingly musical.

Bombay Beach follows the parallel stories of three characters: Benny Parrish, a young kid affected by behavioural disorders; CeeJay Thompson, a teenager dreaming of college and football and Red, an old man lover of the desert. The film is set on the shores of the Salton Sea, in the Colorado Desert, one of Southern California poorest communities.

The setting is the core from which the magic of the film pulses. Built in the 1950s, Bombay Beach was launched as an attractive and modern tourist resort. Because of the lack of an outflow of waters, however, the natural balance of the Salton Sea changed rapidly, transforming a holiday paradise into an abandoned dump. What Bombay Beach captures is a site of broken dreams: dead fish, scraped holyday houses, stranded boats. Below the dust, among the rusty bits, and out of broken windows still eerily lingers the old promise of a perfect life.

But the lives portrayed are far from perfect; they are lives of struggle. The struggle of a mother to protect her son from his behavioural disorders, the struggle of a teenager to leave for college, the struggle of an old man to hang onto life in the place he loves most. What the film finally shows is how stubborn life is. Even in a place like Bombay Beach – remote, desolate and surreal – where apparently there is no reason to live, life still affirms itself. A mother does love her son, a teenager does hope to reach college, a man does succeed in outliving the desert.

Merging documentary shootings with a flavour of indie-rock music videos, Bombay Beach is a film unique in its genre. And the match couldn’t have been more contradictory and successful. Just when the scenes risk becoming too prosaic, director Alma Har’el resorts to landscapes, choreographies and close-ups to disintegrate the clinic look of documentation and introduce a dream-like world on the notes of Bob Dylan and Beirut. While respecting the report-like nature of the documentary genre, Bombay Beach seems to be a reflection on art itself: on its power to reveal, in its fictional nature, even more than what blunt reality does.

There is no place too surreal for men to live and stay. Bombay Beach stunningly builds a balance between bliss and threat, with every sequence walking on a thin rope between danger and liberation, hope and despair, unexpected beauty and hunting decay. Bombay Beach is a movie one of a kind and one not to be missed.

fiamma

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The Woman in the Fifth

3:10 AM | Labels: Thriller

The Woman in the Fifth

Directed by Pawel Pawlikowski
Written by Pawel Pawlikowski

with Ethan Hawke, Kristen Scott Thomas, Samir Guesmi

2011

Pawel Pawlikowski’s new film might not be as clever as it looks, but it’s a creepy, fantastically well-shot psychological mystery that still manages to get under your skin. It concerns a man called Tom Ricks (Ethan Hawke), a university lecturer who also has one successful novel under his belt. At the film’s opening he is migrating to Paris in order to be closer to his estranged wife and, more importantly, their daughter. When he gets to their apartment, however, his wife refuses to let him stay, citing an exclusion order, and claiming he is ‘not normal’. A dark past is thus revealed, and subsequently built upon as he embarks on a quest to become reacquainted with his daughter. The film flits in and out of his imagination, and the lines between the real world and the inside of his head are blurred, in an examination of the artistic impulse and its relationship with the shadows of the subconscious.

In terms of meaning, The Woman in the Fifth is nothing new. Countless films (and, over the centuries, books, songs and plays etc.) have drawn a direct line between creativity and mental abnormality, to the point where it is often considered a necessity for a true artist to be a little screwed-up. Only last year, Lars Von Trier covered similar ground with the higher-profile Melancholia, in which Kirsten Dunst’s morose artistic temperament ruined her wedding but equipped her with an appropriate degree of detachment to deal with an apocalypse. But whereas Melancholia was awkwardly self-conscious and grandiose, The Woman in the Fifth succeeds through remembering what the “sub” in “subtext” means, and concentrating on drawing the character rather than making any grand statements.

As Ricks, Ethan Hawke is just right: a bundle of nerves, haggard and awkward, but with an air of mysterious preoccupation that believably fascinates the other characters, and a surprisingly sweet-natured side that’s only visible towards his daughter. No-one else in the film really makes an impression (with the exception of Samir Guesmi as an unpredictable hotelier), but that’s OK, because everything’s so focused on Ricks. The real star is Pawlikowski’s camera: it’s an astonishingly visually striking film, albeit in quite a subtle way, with the cinematography mimicking the segmented and wandering mental state of the main character. Every frame has more going on within than the majority of films do in their entire running time, as people and objects emerge from and move behind obstructions in the line of sight, or in and out of a steadily maintained focal plane. It makes the most mundane urban vistas and interiors fascinating to watch, as if Pawlikowski is forcing you to see through the eyes of an artist, synthesising a sense of wonder towards the everyday.

While I found the film to strike the right note between depth and drive, I can imagine some finding it oppressively allegorical. I found the symbolism sufficiently wrapped in sub plots to make me care about what would happen next: what will be uncovered about Ricks’ past? will he salvage his relationships? what’s going on in the next room at the shady job he takes to pay the rent? But it is ultimately inconclusive, narratively at least (although not in terms of his character arc). And while it obviously isn’t meant to explain itself completely and has no need to, there are one or two points when just a little more explanation would have helped the overall effect. Without giving too much away: hallucinations are fine, but highly specific ones about things in the past he could have had no contact with need a bit more support. Maybe I missed something. Overall, however, this is a superbly told tale of a man slowly but surely coming to terms with and embracing his true nature.
Tom

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ID:A

5:01 PM | Labels: Thriller

ID:A

Directed by Christian E. Christiensen

Written by Tine Krull Petersen

with Tuva Nuvotny, Flemming Enevold, Jens Jørn Spottag

2011

Sadly a film that doesn't quite manage to live up to your expectations, even though it's mainly showing you how the beginning happened. A woman (Tuva Novotny) wakes up in a stream with a head wound and no memories. She walks into town, finds a room, and discovers her bag contains a million or so euros, a sketched portrait, and a gun. There's a nasty-looking scar on her stomach. Pretty soon some unpleasant men turn up looking for the money, and so begins the obligatory quest to find out exactly what the hell is going on. Fortunately, the quality of the direction (by Christian E. Christiansen) and acting elevate ID:A above a run-of-the-mill thriller. It also looks beautiful, and is solidly designed and put together. In fact it’s an extremely well made film, sadly let down by a cliché-ridden scenario.

This isn’t to say it’s lacking in suspense. As an amnesia-thriller it follows the Memento line rather than The Bourne Identity's, which is to say the focus is on discovering the nature of the character, not on using the nature of the character to drive the action. This more thoughtful mode serves the film well, making for an atmospheric journey where every detail seems significant and every character seems fundamentally untrustworthy. However, the problem is that while the main character is confused and lost, everything is all too familiar to the audience. The clues that bring her closer to her previous life, while quite nicely done, are of an overcooked “Hey I can speak this language!” or “I am curiously drawn to this activity” variety. You realise afterwards as well that quite a few of the more subtle mysteries surrounding the character were not founded on anything deliberate in the script but rather on plain old inconsistency: sometimes she seems resourceful enough for you to wonder if a professionally shady background is going to emerge, other times she just seems a bit thick. A particularly silly moment comes when she stays at a hotel and has to give a fake name rather than reveal she doesn’t know her own. She actually does that casting around for inspiration thing (“My name’s Mr…uh…Chair”), which never rings true; is it really that difficult to think of a name that’s not yours? Especially when you can’t be distracted by your real name because you don’t know it.

It’s not hard to generate mystery when you have an in-built excuse, even an obligation, to just introduce things without any narrative support at all. As with too many films of this type, you are kept completely in the dark until everything is explained in a rush of flashback and/or exposition – it works, but there’s not much art to it. The script takes in radical socialists, political intrigue, domestic abuse, gender issues, private investigators and shiny celebrity society, but all in front of a why-is-this-happening backdrop that means you’re constantly waiting for themes to develop further than they do. This would be fine if it all coalesced into something meaningful at the end, but while everything is tied up neatly, the only striking thing about the ending is how accidental the main character’s involvement really is. It’s not predictable exactly, but only because you're waiting for blanks to be filled in, not events to ensue. The absolute outcome is clear from a mile off, put it that way.
Tom

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Doc Days - We Are Poets

3:23 AM | Labels: Documentary

We Are Poets

Directed by Alex Ramseyer-Bache and Daniel Lucchesi

2011

Have you ever thought about poetry as an unconventional genre?

We Are Poets starts with a mellow, slow, dream-like moving sequence down the streets of Leeds. While colours blend, shapes change and the camera moves a voiceover steadily and aggressively winds down some verses. Poetry happens, then the documentary starts. We Are Poets follows a group of teenage poets in their journey from the Leeds Young Authors group to Washington D.C. Brave New Voices competition. Like a friendly presence, the camera records how poetry entered their lives, their preparation for the competition and their experience in Washington D.C.

But We Are Poets is not a documentary about just any kind of poets. We Are Poets is about a group of slam poets. At a crossroad between hip hop, drama and recital, ‘slam poetry’ is a genre in evolution and one which, for the moment, happily remains outside the box. In general terms, ‘slam poetry’ designates a type of poetry written to be spoken and acted in front of an audience, often in a competition context. What strikes about it as characteristic is the energy and rhythm with which it is performed. Perhaps the poet has never been so present – in modern times – in his work: his words take shape on his face, in his voice and through his body.

This may be the reason why most of its messages are so socially engaged. Gender issues, racial issue, class-related issues, family issues are the recurrent themes. Not only does slam poetry question the rules of western poetry, it also seems to question the general status quo. We Are Poets presents a beautiful, darker side of poetry: one concerned with ugliness, injustice and anger – but resolute to strive for hope.

The story the documentary tells nevertheless questions the limits of slam poetry especially in relation to its competitive nature. While preparing for the Washington competition, the six poets are discouraged to include in their repertoire a potentially anti-American poem. At the last minute before the competition, however, the group decides to go on with it and to present it in front of the American jury. In all its suspense, the episode becomes a test to slam poetry’s real freedom of speech.

With their youth and genuineness, the six teenagers followed by the camera soon become the embodiment of the very essence of ‘slam poetry’. Merging the boundaries between game and artistic practice they perfectly convey its spontaneous and unconventional approach. Directors Alex Ramseyer-Bache and Daniel Lucchesi successfully turned the camera from being an intrusive eye into an accomplice mirror through which the important role poetry played in the lives of these six young poets is reflected. This gives to the documentary a relaxed and light atmosphere from which poetry stands out even more forcefully, sitting somewhere between naivety and piercing awareness.

Catching a glimpse of a growing underground global artistic scene, We Are Poets proves that, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, poetry is still a young art.

fiamma

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Girl Model

9:09 AM | Labels: Documentary

Girl Model

Directed by David Redman and Ashley Sabin

2011

When we meet her, Nadya slinks toward the camera in a bikini. She’s skinny. This doesn’t come as a shock given that she’s auditioning for a modeling contract, but what does shock is the discovery she’s only thirteen. We’re going to follow her as she embarks on her modeling career in Japan. The first shots of this immensely sad documentary are initially disorienting, making you wonder what the semi-wilderness of Siberia has to do with the catwalk. Sadly, the relevance of isolation and a lack of much else becomes painfully apparent. At one point, we see a creepy kiddie facsimile of a western catwalk show. It seems harmless fun taken at face value, but within the context of this film represents a fantasised world of glamour and opportunity that local families are too eager to believe. Nadya’s grandmother just wants her to have freedom; her dad is planning a new house for the family, which he’ll build with the money she earns.

I don’t think I’m spoiling anything by telling you this is overly optimistic. Nadya’s contract with Switch Models promises her $8000 and at least two paid jobs when she gets to Tokyo. Unfortunately the contract has a clause stating it can be changed on a daily basis (always something to look out for), and instead of embarking on a glittering career, Nadya is taken to a string of casting calls, essentially an excuse to photograph her without payment and…gets nowhere.

While one strand of the film follows Nadya as she has her dreams trashed in Tokyo, another focuses on the figure of Ashley, an ex-model who now works as a talent scout. She is the one responsible for selecting the girls that have the right look for whichever client she is working for, and putting them in touch with each other. Ashley is a fascinating character, and arguably the one who really holds the viewer’s attention. She is almost a tragic figure; a villain who seems to be on the cusp of redemption, but who doesn’t quite manage it. You can see it the moment the camera fixes on her; she just looks edgy and uncomfortable. As we spend more time with her, we find she is completely aware of the exploitative, dishonest nature of her business, and one of the driving forces of the film (the other being a sincere desire to see Nadya get home OK) is the tension in waiting to see if she will act on her disillusionment. When she has a meeting with a flagrantly sinister associate, where she enquires about how he ensures the safety of his girls once they have reached Tokyo, there’s an ocean of skepticism behind her questions; unsurprising, given his answer involves scaring them into timidity by showing them autopsies. This film is a depressing, miserable trudge with no resolution, but I don’t mean that as a criticism.

Girl Model is not a discursive work, which works both in and against its favour. On the one hand, documentary is at its most powerful and truthful when there is a minimum of interference, and in this case the subject matter is so naturally abhorrent that all directors David Redmon and Ashley Sabin need to do is set the camera rolling and let the industry condemn itself, through a maelstrom of bullshitting and self-deception. Sometimes you can’t believe just how self-incriminating these people are: early on we hear an agent relating how a “pre-pubescent look” is popular in the Japanese market, apparently oblivious to just how questionable this sounds. Later we see a DVD, containing videos of casting shoots, with the simple, red-marker title 'Russian Teens'. Right... At its best, this hands-off approach can lead to scenes such as the one where Ashley visits two of her models in Tokyo, both of whom are now slightly disillusioned and suspicious. It might be one of the most awkward scenes ever filmed; the sense of betrayal and resentment all the more present for the stilted conversation.

At the same time the unstructured approach causes certain dissipation in the documentary’s power, due to an understandable desire to fit in anything interesting that makes itself available. The contemporary footage is interspersed with Ashley’s personal videos of when she was starting as a model in Japan, but it’s not entirely clear what they’re there for. Ashley deserves praise for being so open with the filmmakers, but it seems as if her videos are meant to provoke an element of sympathy, and an understanding of her own debilitating experiences as a model. Unfortunately, you can’t ignore the fact that:

a) she was eighteen, rather than thirteen

b) she has apparently made money instead of being sent home in debt

c) her videos don’t express the same fear and desperation expressed by Nadya, merely boredom and self-pity.

This means that while they should be crystallising the information in the main body of the documentary, they only interrupt it. Similarly, a non-sequitur sequence toward the end sees Ashley undergo surgery to remove a sebaceous cyst from her womb. The bizarre lump of tissue and blond hair she gives "birth" to must have been included as some symbol regarding her career. I couldn’t decide whether I thought it was too hysterical or too perfect. I can't blame the filmmakers for including something so macabre-ly representative, either way.

Most importantly, though, the loose structure makes for a disparity between the film’s focus and what it is implied we should take from it. In terms of condemning the specific part of the model trade we are shown, this piece is an incontrovertible success; but material on the film’s website suggests we are meant to take it as representative of the entire industry. I’m not denying this could be the case, but without more input on behalf of the filmmakers, without providing information rather than allowing events to show themselves, there is nothing that really supports this. It remains a compelling account, but one that is quite limited in its application, never transcending its coverage of this specific situation to convince us that this is the reality of the fashion industry.
Tom

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A Dangerous Method

12:43 PM | Labels: Biography-Drama

A Dangerous Method

Directed by David Cronenberg

with Michael Fassbender, Keira Knightley, Viggo Mortensen

2011

A Dangerous Method has too much of a Hollywood flavour to rip the screen open with flows of untamed unconscious.

The movie traces the development of psychoanalysis in the tensions, ties and passions which animate the Carl Jung - Sigmund Freud - Sabina Spielrein triangle. The plot begins with the dramatic arrival of Spielrein at a clinic, where she becomes Jung’s first patient to be treated with Freud’s psychoanalytical method. The successful, and yet somehow puzzling outcome of the therapy will give Jung the chance to meet Freud. Through their friendship, the film captures the uncertain future psychoanalysis faced at the time: rooted in Freud’s figure and doctrine, and yet open to an infinite numbers of possibilities. Eventually, Jung’s illicit affair with Spielrein, and Spielrein’s own academic career, exacerbate the tensions between Jung and Freud, bitterly ending their friendship.

The movie presents Jung and Freud as polarized figures: if Freud is the one who academically relates to his theory, Jung is the one who internally lives it. Freud appears as motivated by a dream of academic immortality and unquestioned authority, while Jung is assaulted by doubts, willing to question parts of Freud’s theory in order to develop psychoanalysis further. Freud is for stasis, Jung for transformation. Yet, the duo lacks that unspoken tension which the movie could have developped further.

The trio of actors does justice to the movie’s powerful trio of minds. In just over a month, we have seen Michael Fassbender transforms on screen from a sex addict (Shame) to Jung, second father of psychoanalysis. Despite all the rigour and composure, Fassbender manages to give to the character a human side which questions the notion of morality. Keira Knightley, in the role of Sabine Spielrein, wonderfully transforms, under the suggestive power of words, into a bundle of nerves which seems to be contrived, pulled and stretched by invisible hands as her neurosis acts on her. Viggo Mortensen, as Freud, balances the contrasts and incongruities of Jung and Spielrein by building a figure of authority which is as much of an anchor as it is a target to the other two characters.

If the plot of the movie is about instincts, cinematographically A Dangerous Method is an example of rigour and precision. Each shot is perfectly balanced. The result is as beautiful as a porcelain cup: light, elegant, precise. This, however, somehow undermines the instincts’ drive of the plot. A Dangerous Method seems, at times, too controlled, too perfect, too conscious. Even Jung’s masochistic affair with Spielrein appears neat and elegant. Nothing in the movie speaks of that obscure force at the core of each human being which the three characters constantly talk about. But then again, opposites attract each other, as Spielrein suggests in the movie, so one wonders if this was a (un)conscious choice of director David Cronenberg.

The movie seems to be working at two different things: a passionate, illicit love story and the history of psychoanalysis. As their relation evolves, we hear from Spielrein’s lips all the famous concepts of Jung’s theory, suggesting that much of it came from the intuitions of a young woman. Without making A Dangerous Method a feminist film, the story acknowledges Spielrein’s role in psychoanalysis, somehow revisiting its history. This historical side of the movie, as well as all the references to psychoanalysis, are however too outplayed by the glamour and drama of the love affair to make a real point.

The final scene of the movie, however, does leave you with a point of reflection. One wonders if the real significance of psychoanalysis has been, first of all, that of freeing sex from morality.

fiamma

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Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene

12:08 PM | Labels: Thriller

Martha Marcy May Marlene

Directed by Sean Durkin
Written by Sean Durkin

with Elizabeth Olsen, John Hawkes, Sarah Paulson

2011

A film not about joining a cult, as I had thought, but about trying to escape from one. As it opens we see a communal way of life; everyone has a job to do and everyone is expected to take part. It all seems very rustic and hippyish, but a sequence around the dinner table reveals an underlying segregation based on sex. One of the young women leaves the house, crosses the road, and runs into the forest. She hides from the people who go after her, but when she makes a phone call from town seems uncertain whether she wants to go further, or go back. This is Martha, but she’s also Marcy May, and Marlene. Her big sister on the phone, newly married and holidaying in a nearby yuppie retreat, hasn’t heard from her in two years and comes to pick her up. The rest of the film follows Martha attempting to readjust to normal life, with the spectre of her experience perpetually hanging over her; an atmospheric, impressionistic, and very effective psychological drama about identity and belonging.

As I said, the film isn’t about how she came to be in the cult. Reference is made to lost parents and a broken home, but chronologically speaking the earliest thing we see is her arrival, sitting on the grass being introduced to the leader, who renames her Marcy May. A good deal of the narrative flashes back to her time there: we see her initiation, the rhythm of life, and the increasingly dark set of events that convinced her to leave. But all these things are there to be echoed in her later behaviour. The cult leader, Patrick, is an off-screen presence as much as he is on-screen, and the moments when he is a threat rather than an active force are the most sinister. It’s when you see his invasive effect self-pervading among his people that you really understand what Martha has been through. As an actor John Hawkes has a low-key intensity that suits the role well, convincing you he could be this imposing without having to make his character too prominent. Performance-wise though the film definitely belongs to Elizabeth Olsen, who the camera barely leaves and isn’t scared of being just pitiable rather than sympathetic.

But it is writer-director Sean Durkin who deserves the most praise, for making such a downbeat and non-judgmental work so compelling. He presents everything through the eyes of Martha, and it’s a testament to his ability that the technically more interesting Charles Manson stuff doesn’t supersede the family strife of the film’s present. The key to the film is in its refusal to cast the two ways of life as normal and abnormal. Yes, the cult is the manipulative domination fantasy of an amoral crank, but when Martha escapes to the outside world she finds herself in another weird fantasy, except this time it’s the fake-wilderness of the well-to-do holiday home; a remote getaway with all the benefits of urban living. Martha finds it strange that only two people would live in such a big place, doesn’t understand her sister’s problem with skinny dipping, and has an attitude to sex that can be described as unshockable. Different members of the audience will have their own views on how acceptable each of these things is, but I’m sure there are people who don’t see any of those opinions as crazy, though in the latter’s instance she’s atleast antisocial. Thematically, however, the film benefits from making the lead character lost in a more recognisable sense than just screwed up.

The script is sparse and efficient, all the performances are perfectly restrained, and it looks very raw and unfussy. In fact the film is a bit self-consciously deadpan at times, with too many lingering shots on silent, preoccupied faces and frames filled with nothing but the suggestion of danger. It means there are points in the third act when the film almost loses itself in a haze of foreboding, but all is wrenched back into place by a fairly brilliant final shot, which is nothing but vindicating in the darkest way possible. It’s a perfectly tense note for the film to end on.
Tom

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Doc Days - How to Start a Revolution

10:35 AM | Labels: Documentary

How to Start a Revolution

Directed by Ruaridh Arrow

2011

In The Prince, Machiavel advised the man of power: if you want peace, prepare for war. Imagine now a manual, which takes Machiavel’s pragmatic approach, sheer realism and strategic edge, to create an alternative form of rebellion to war: a non-violent struggle to defeat dictatorship and establish democracy.

How to Start a Revolution will open your eyes about the existence of such a manual. The documentary traces the influence of Gene Sharp’s book From Dictatorship to Democracy on revolutions across the world. Concisely written, the book presents the practical implications of a simple, although crucial reasoning: every dictatorship has its weaknesses; if you find non-violent ways to attack those weaknesses, the regime will eventually loose power and fall.

The documentary starts by presenting the genealogy of the book: the when and how it was written. It then develops outlining the book’s major points, which are illustrated through historical study-cases. The Albert Einstein Institution – founded by Gene Sharp – is also portrayed in its role of promoter and developer of research in the area. Throughout the feature, interviews with the leaders of successful, non-violent revolutionary movements in Serbia, Morocco, Algeria and Egypt witness to the validity and power of Sharp’s ideas.

But Sharp would not agree on this point. In the Q&A session which followed the preview showing of the documentary, he stressed that these are not his ideas, these are principles that have existed before and that he only made available to others. It is by this idea of Sharp’s book as vehicle, as tool that can be made one’s own in any country of the world, that the documentary makes its stronger point. From Dictatorship to Democracy is no pre-conceived dogma to be preached to others, but knowledge which others can put in use to achieve freedom, in an independent way.

It might be for this very reason that From Dictatorship to Democracy is still strictly blacklisted and persecuted in several countries around the world. The final section of the documentary deals with the negative reception that the book has received in certain states and the fierce propaganda that has been launched at times against Sharp and his work. In a quite positive way, however, this shows that From Dictatorship to Democracy is perceived by authoritarian regimes as a real threat. While it has been said that nuclear weapons can be seen as a guarantee of peace, it is refreshing and hopeful to see that ideas can still provide an explosive alternative to war.

Next to the dynamite of Sharp’s ideas, director Ruaridh Arrow paints the portrait of an orchid lover. Almost like in a metaphor of his own theories, one sees Sharp in the persistent, careful and patient cure of his orchid garden. These strongly framed and densely coloured sequences attest to the director’s talent in producing something visually, as well as ideologically powerful. With tact and respect, Arrow successfully captured a more intimate side of Sharp, also giving us a glimpse of his professional and personal relationship with Jamila Raqib, Executive Director of The Albert Einstein Institution.

You might not have to start a revolution tomorrow. But How to Start a Revolution is a compelling movie to see.

fiamma

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Bombay Beach

The Woman in the Fifth

ID:A

Doc Days - We Are Poets

Girl Model

A Dangerous Method

Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene

Doc Days - How to Start a Revolution