monty-57 Reviews

Ballad of a Soldier (1959)

Deeply moving classic

[10/10 · 21 April 2009]

If one is to talk of genres in Russian film, then the World War II film is a genre all to itself. A good half (if not more) of Russian films deal with what Russians term the Great Patriotic War, and yet precious few of them are so profound and universally understood as Grigory Chukhrai's classic.

It's a simple story about a young soldier, Alyosha (Vladimir Ivashov), who has just 48 hours of furlough. Since Russia is so vast, he uses practically all that time to travel home to his mother. Along the way, he finds romance and lives a lifetime in limited time.

The film is exquisitely crafted, well-paced and deeply moving in its evocation of the bonds of love and family. Highly recommended.

Andrei Rublev (1966)

Best Russian film and one of the best films ever made

[10/10 · 21 April 2009]

Arguably the best film in Russian cinema crafted by the one of greatest filmmakers of all time, and considered by some to one of the best films ever made.

Andrei Tarkovsky had already put himself on the map as an internationally-recognized director by the time this film was made, having won the Golden Lion award in Venice for his first full-length feature film IVAN'S CHILDHOOD.

ANDREI RUBLYOV was his second feature and remains his most ambitious and monumental undertaking. The script, by Tarkovsky and Andrei Konchalovsky, follows historical record scrupulously and where no record was available, makes educated speculation in its story about the title 15th-century icon painter's tribulations.

The story's universal concerns of finding meaning, direction and conviction in one's life transcend the cultural and historical trappings. The film is uncompromising in its level of historical detail, entirely unsentimental and is devoid of Soviet propaganda, and so inevitably when it came out, Soviet censors suppressed it, demanding cuts. The film was not seen by the world at large until seven years after its completion, four years after winning the International Critics' Prize at the Cannes Film Festival.

There are several versions of the film running up to 205 minutes. The 185-minute cut was Tarkovsky's preferred version.

Moloch (1999)

A tyrannical power propitiated by human subservience

[7/10 · 21 April 2009]

The year is 1942. Hitler is at the height of power. He and his inner circle retreat to a misty mountaintop castle in the Alps. Eva Braun, nearly naked and alone, basks in solitude on the ramparts. It is her only escape from the burden of loving a human chimera. Thus begins Alexander Sokurov's film MOLOCH, which won the Best Screenplay Award at the 1999 Cannes Film Festival.

Webster's Third International English Dictionary describes Moloch as an ancient Semitic deity, and the figurative definition runs as, "A tyrannical power propitiated by human subservience or sacrifice." The latter is definitely in evidence as the film explores Braun's personal world and tribulations, as well as the grotesque behavior of Hitler and his obsequious associates. The film does not attempt to mirror history; rather it is a bold speculation that takes its cues from the past.

Leonid Mozgovoy's performance as Hitler is uncanny. He is nervous, annoyed, self-absorbed, even vulnerable, and oblivious to the strained relations around him, including his troubled relationship with Braun, played by Yelena Rufanova. Their final scene is particularly compelling, where Braun in sympathetic tones tells Hitler as he is about to be driven away in his sedan, "Death is Death. It cannot be defeated."

In a unique maneuver, Sokurov had his entirely Russian cast voice the dialogue in German, after which they were dubbed by native German actors from Berlin, creating a nearly seamless result.

Unfortunately, the Russian version of the film in theaters had a voice-over translation (done entirely by Mozgovoy), which interferes with the German text, defeating the whole purpose of going to all that trouble. This decision was made in deference to Russian audiences, which are used to – and even sometimes prefer – this type of translation, but subtitles would have worked much better. Luckily, the Russian DVD has this option (Russian subtitles only).

The film is more streamlined than other Sokurov efforts, and may be called one of his best works, if not the best. The editing and pacing are smoother than that of many of his other films. The recently released video version of the film contains 21 minutes of footage not seen in the theatrical version. The long version plays well, with more rich detail, more expository elements such as additional manifestations of Eva's mischievous nature and Adolf's sensitivity to smells and foodstuffs.

Sokurov studied history at Gorky State University before becoming a filmmaker. He makes highly idiosyncratic, strikingly atmospheric and ponderously paced works, drawing inspiration from classical literature and music – what he calls "Old World art." He crafted the film from a screenplay entitled "The Mystery of the Mountain" (originally the title of the film), written by Yury Arabov, with whom he has collaborated frequently.

The film can rightfully be called a cinematic milestone because of its portrayal of Hitler. For the first time in narrative film history, Hitler is shown to be human. This is ultimately a valuable artistic judgment, for it fosters understanding of the political forces that he set in motion.

Sokurov notes, "Erich Fromm wrote that until we learn to understand Hitler's human nature, we will never understand anything about Nazism or learn to discern potential monsters in those lusting for power."

Battleship Potemkin (1925)

Charlie Chaplin's favorite movie

[8/10 · 21 April 2009]

An unique achievement in cinema that continues to amaze even after all these years.

Eisenstein didn't reinvent the reel with his film, but combined existing film-making techniques that had been used individually by other silent film directors – such as montage, tracking shots and extreme close-ups – for maximum effect in telling the story of a mutiny at sea and subsequent mayhem on land.

In 1905, the armored cruiser Potemkin is returning to Odessa on the Black Sea from defeat in the Russian-Japanese war. The conditions on board are abysmal and the sailors rebel, eventually taking over the ship. The sympathetic people of Odessa help them by bringing them food, only to face a bloody reprisal from Tsarist troops in a famous but fictional sequence on the steps of the city leading down to the beach. Well, they do occasionally say that life's a beach.

Eisenstein's artful editing, which in addition to illustrating his dialectical editing theory of point, counterpoint, fusion, elecits tremendous empathy for the sailors and citizens of Odessa, sparking the viewer's sense of moral outrage. This power to galvanize audiences led to the film being banned by several governments, even (shudder to think!) the Soviet Union under Stalin.

Reportedly, this was Charlie Chaplin's favorite movie.

Taboo (1999)

A riveting, exquisite film about homosexuality in Edo-period Japan

[8/10 · 21 April 2009]

Japan in the 1860's was in a tense political situation with the Shogunate and the Emperor in conflict over whether to trade with foreigners. Though the country was still mostly isolated, the winds of change were in the air. Long-standing traditional institutions were withering away, and soon the supremacy of the samurai would give way to that of the merchant.

Nagisa Oshima's newest film TABOO (GOHATTO) examines this socio-political decline on a personal level. The film, which was nominated for a Golden Palm at Cannes 2000 and won Best Film recognition at the St. Petersburg Festival of Festivals in St. Petersburg, Russia, is a truly riveting, yet exquisite film about homosexuality among Edo-period samurai. It is worth seeing for the simple, streamlined beauty of its images and its potent drama.

Kyoto, Spring 1865. Hyozo Tashiro (Tadanobu Asano), a low-ranking samurai from the Kurume clan, and Sozaburo Kano (Ryuhei Matsuda), an effeminate 18-year-old rich man's son, join the Shinsengumi, a conservative samurai military unit loyal to the Shogun. Deceptively demure at first, the boy Kano quickly proves his acumen for killing when ordered to execute a wayward samurai. Tashiro, struck by Kano's feminine beauty and odd power, seduces him and they become butt buddies. Other men in the unit are also taken with Kano, and soon their bodies start piling up, murdered by a not-altogether-unknown assassin.

The troop leader Isami Kondo (Yoichi Sai) and his second-in-command Toshizo Hijikata (the famed actor-director Takeshi Kitano) observe the situation and react to it differently. Kondo wants Sozaburo to pay with his life for his alleged transgressions, while Hijikata, who is as wise and merciful as can be within the samurai code of conduct, adopts a wait-and-see attitude.

The most intriguing and surprising element in the film is how fairly tolerant of homosexuality the samurai leaders are, up to a point. The two commanders even discuss the subject with bemusement. When it becomes clear that the passions are running just a little too hot and threaten the cohesiveness and then the very integrity of the unit, then and only then is Hijikata galvanized into action. The last sequence of the film, when he makes his decisive move, is one of extreme grace and potent symbolism.

Takeshi Kitano's performance is measured and calm. His character seems to have attained an inner peace that the others have not. Kitano puts a human face on a duty-bound samurai. He previously acted in Oshima's 1983 Japanese-British co-production MERRY Christmas, MR. LAWRENCE, playing a sarcastic sergeant in a Word War II P.O.W. camp who cracks jokes about homosexuality. Upon closer inspection, TABOO shares some striking similarities with that film. Both films take place in a military setting and deal with homoerotic themes. The two films are also outstanding in their exploration of the endlessly conflicting aspects of Japanese culture: prone to militarism and merciless brutality on one hand - aesthetically and spiritually attuned on the other. Oshima's images are colder, more austere and subdued (sub-dude?) in TABOO than in MR. LAWRENCE, but are also no less resplendent.

Dolls (2002)

A lyrical tale of tragic sacrifices in the name of eternal devotion

[10/10 · 21 April 2009]

Actor-Director Takeshi Kitano has received a lion's share of attention from the international film press and public for his often hard-edged, violent dramas about policemen and Japanese mafia, inflected with a touch of artistic flair.

Therefore, DOLLS comes almost as a total surprise and persuasively affirms Kitano's reputation as a cinematic artist. It illuminates another side of Kitano that is not evident in his other work – that of a poet moved by love. A lyrical tale of tragic sacrifices made in the name of eternal devotion, it follows the fate of three very different couples, linking their plights with that of a couple from a 17th-century bunraku puppet theater play, two sequences of the performance of which open and close the film, forming formidable book-ends which put the film's other passions into cultural context. The opening shots of the dolls coming to life at the hands of master puppeteers are nothing short of exhiliarating.

The cinematography by Katsumi Yanagishima is extraordinarily fluid and opulent. The clothing was designed by progressive couturier Yohji Yamamoto, himself once a subject of a film (Wim Wenders' little-seen 1989 documentary NOTEBOOK ON CITIES AND CLOTHES) and the costume designer on Kitano's previous film BROTHER.

The film slowly but surely draws the viewer into the characters' inner worlds: a young man running from an arranged marriage at the last minute, his true love – a fragile girl pushed to the brink of insanity by the thought of him leaving her, an aging gangster in the autumn of his life faced with the stalwartly loyal woman he left years ago to join the yakuza, an obsessively devoted fan of a bubble-gum pop star who commiserates with her in her disfigurement after an accident. There is an unreal, fairy-tale feel to the proceedings that creates a pervasive air of mystery. The film is powerful in a strangely low-key way and its narrative flexibility defies explanation while leaving itself open to many different interpretations. It is definitely a film that requires an active imagination to appreciate, and its minimalism and inscrutability are part of the unique fascination it conjures. Highly recommended.

The 6th Day (2000)

The straight-faced sequel to TWINS

[6/10 · 21 April 2009]

Although cloning is not all that new a subject in films, it has never been adequately mined as a theme. The new Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle THE 6TH DAY, now playing at local theaters, uses cloning as a mere superficial plot device, giving a slightly novel twist to what is essentially a standard B-actioner masquerading as a topical sci-fi film. The film is itself a clone, echoing director Paul Verhoeven's TOTAL RECALL in a number of ways, from its concepts of recording memory right down to Arnie's ride in an automated taxi.

Set in the near future, subtitled with the dire prognostication "Sooner Than You Think," the film offers a look at human society comfortable with making exact genetic copies of ailing pets but living in fear at the very real possibility of cloning anything remotely human. After a failed experiment sometime in the past, fully cloning humans has been outlawed.

Schwarzenegger plays family man Adam Gibson, a helicopter pilot who returns home one day to find a man who looks exactly like him celebrating his daughter's birthday. He is instantly hunted by a motley gang of hired guns, most of whom look like refugees from your local alternative dance club. Prolific B-movie actor Michael Rooker plays the zealous, trench coat wearing, square-jawed leader of the crew. The twist here is that every time Arnold kills one of this bunch, he (or she in one case) is cloned, memory restored with the aid of CD-ROMs, and continues to hunt Arnold.

Duped into signing a phony flight contract by some corporate suits, Gibson's friend Hank (Michael Rapaport) is killed. Gibson then traces various links to a sinister corporation where ostensibly donor organs are grown using cloning techniques, but where the upscale high-tech nerd Michael Drucker (Tony Goldwyn) is plotting to take over the world through the aid of clones.

Cloning is seen as a subject of controversy in a straightforward, simplistic way in the film, as liberals protest the growth of human spare parts through cloning, while the rich folk (who presumably can afford quality health care) line up at $1000-a-head dinners to support the effort. A renegade scientist, Dr. Griffin Weir (Robert Duvall) tires and quits, heartbroken by the pleas of his ailing wife to quit bringing her back through cloning. She implores him to let her die a natural death. The latter sequence is the only point where the film slows down slightly and becomes a tad thoughtful, and actually begins to look as if it will say something halfway important about the possibility of cloning, only to lose the thought and turn back to the mayhem instead.

Director Roger Spottiswoode, whose previous effort was the over-the-top James Bond film TOMORROW NEVER DIES, keeps things moving at a frenetic pace, creating scenes which competently mix action with state-of-the-art special effects. The film is long on fury and visuals, but short on story and character development. It delivers the goods in the action department, and Arnie even gets to deliver a couple of the trademark one-liners audiences love him for, but every thing else about the film is pretty wooden. Arnie's wife and child are cardboard, and it is hard to actually identify with him trying to save them. Spottiswoode really does not seem to be at home in the sci-fi genre, and many sequences seem somehow lackluster, despite being technically well produced. The film degenerates into the standard everyman-against-mad-scientist-playing-god brouhaha pretty quickly. Essentially, it is just another twin movie, and not even one that is all that great.

Many an action star has come to a point in their career when they make a twin film - Jackie Chan with TWIN DRAGONS, Jean-Claude Van Damme with DOUBLE IMPACT. Here, however, the possibilities for interaction between identical twins, or in this case clones, are left unexplored. When Schwarzenegger finally does meet his double (TWINS with Danny DeVito doesn't count), the scene is anti-climactic, and it is never shown or explained how he was able to convince his double to team up with him against the bad guys.

It can be said that Arnold is a better actor than he was fifteen years ago. His new family-man image in the film mirrors his current life, but the transitions from doting daddy to bone-crushing behemoth in other parts of the film are jarring and inconsistent. Still, here Arnie is more human, slightly more expressive and mellowed with age. He does more for the film than the film does for him.

Wolfhound (2006)

A Mixed Bag

[6/10 · 19 January 2007]

Russia's first proper foray into Tolkeinesque fantasy cinema, WOLFHOUND, based on the first novel of a tetralogy by Maria Semyonova about a last-of-his-tribe mighty warrior, is a mixed bag – on the one hand, it is formulaic, derivative and uneven in terms of acting and pacing; on the other, there is enough novelty in the film's distinctly Slavic demeanor, philosophical subtext and production design to make it play well internationally as a crossover curio.

WOLFHOUND opens with the back-story of the main character, a mighty warrior from the Grey Hound tribe named Wolfhound (Bukharov). While still only a child, Wolfhound's family is killed by marauders led by the evil priest Zhadoba and his henchman the Man-Eater (Domogarov). Zhadoba steals a sword forged by Wolfhound's father and has Wolfhound enslaved. The boy grows up dreaming of revenge.

Zhadoba is priest of Morana, a malevolent goddess that has been imprisoned by spell cast by the rulers of Galirad, one of whom, Princess Helen (Akinshina) is betrothed to the Man-Eater's son Vinitar (Bely) in an effort to keep the peace. Zhadoba is trying to free Morana to wreak havoc upon the world and subsequently dominate. He hopes to accomplish this by spilling the blood of Helen at the ancient shrine where Morana is imprisoned. Standing between him and his goal is Wolfhound, who, after saving Helen from an assassination attempt in Galirad, becomes her bodyguard.

Contrary to many Russians' fatalistic attitudes towards life, the film presents a new and intriguing philosophical slant in terms of the free will versus determinism debate, which comes out in favor of free will. Wolfhound frees himself from slavery by killing one of his captors, thereby changing his fate. As a free man, he pursues revenge, but throughout the film, his conscience, in the form of visions of a female spirit, comes to question whether the seemingly fated cycle of killing is worth continuing when he encounters Vinitar, the last of his enemies, in battle.

If the plot sounds formulaic and derivative, it is. Intentionally or not, the opening sequence is virtually a remake of John Milius's CONAN THE BARBARIAN. Masked in a sharp-toothed skull helmet, Zhadoba is vaguely reminiscent of Tolkein's dark lord Sauron. The predictability of the storyline and the pace, which lags in places, sometimes makes you wish they'd just get on with it. In terms of editing, the film could have been better served with a classic, chronological progression of the main character's life rather than its more trendy, non-linear, flashback tack, which dampens its philosophical message.

The performances are uneven, with the supporting cast generally better than the leads. TV heartthrob Bukharov (Russian TV series MAROSEIKA 12) and internationally known Oksana Akinshina (LILJA4EVER, THE BOURNE SUPREMACY) look appropriately wide-eyed in the right places, neither of them leaves much of an impression. The purported love story between them feels pat due to being underdeveloped plot-wise. Since this is Russia's first LOTR-style fantasy and the genre is very alien to Russian cinema, some sequences feel downright awkward in terms of acting. Also a bit gawky is the very noticeable use of facial close-ups, presumably in order for the film to subsequently play well on the small screen.

One of the more memorable performances was that of the matronly Nina Usatova as the leader of the savage Kharyuk people, whose lands Helen's entourage has to cross to reach her betrothed. Usatova steals every scene in that sequence, which is somewhat obviously played for comic relief.

Nevertheless, the film acquits itself well by stretching its comparatively shoestring budget to the limit. It looks similar to a $40 – $50 million Hollywood film. The cinematography is atmospheric, well lit and generally melds well with the computer-generated effects. CGI use is rather sparing compared with something like LOTR, but then this is not only because of budgetary constraints. The filmmakers didn't cut corners on things like extras and sets. The film features around 1800 costumed extras, and nine different "large" sets were built, the most spectacular of these being Galirad, which covered 5 kilometers square on a Mosfilm studio backlot. The film also makes use of numerous on-location forest sequences shot in Slovakia. CGI is used mostly in the background in establishing shots and the level of CGI use builds up slowly, until going full-bore in the closing magical battle sequence. The battle scenes of are varying quality – some are quite clear and easy to follow, while others are pretty sloppy and a blur of swords and grunts. The fighting is not very gory and would probably earn the film a PG-13 rating in the U.S.

The film's unique and exotic look, which draws on an amalgam of some never-before-seen elements from Slavic archeology, makes it a novelty item. Wolfhound looks positively Scythian with his long hair, beard, scars and animal-hide costume. Helen's red beaded wedding dress was painstakingly created from 3000 individual parts. The bat sidekick is a first, and its CGI is very accomplished – nearly impossible to tell that the bat was not real. A healing process used by a white wizard to remedy some near-fatal wounds is also thus far one-of-kind. It uses heat provided from the campfires and the three healing sequences (one of them repairing the bat's wing) elicit a sense of wonder.

Outside of Russia, the film should benefit from the post-Lord-of-the-Rings renewed interest in the fantasy genre and the general curiosity about Russians' take on the genre.

Tempesta (2004)

Nothing to write home about...

[5/10 · 29 June 2006]

I saw this film at its Moscow Film Festival screening last night at the newfangled Oktyabr multiplex. Mercifully, they showed it in English with Russian subtitles on a readout below the screen. Thankfully there was no stupid voice-over or dubbing translation, which is what you normally get in Russian cinemas.

TEMPESTA was intriguing in its premise, but falls absolutely flat in terms of execution. The film does show you something of a new world -- that of the profession of art authenticator. The authentication sequences are absorbing in terms of showing how possibly state-of-the-art technology and the authenticator's know-how are used to determine whether a painting is genuine or not. You do learn things like cobalt being a pigment that was first used in the 19th century and so couldn't be used in paintings from the turn of the 15th to the 16th century, but it feels like either there should be some more exposition of this kind or that it would be better off in a documentary about art authentication.

The film's one redeeming quality is its fairly intricate cinematography, which is well-lit, has some elaborate multiple dissolves and picture-postcard views of Venice. It really made me want to go to Venice. The carnival sequence even has a slight raciness about it that makes one a bit pumped to go for the promise of some Italian hot tuna. I'm a bit surprised they didn't try to premiere this at the Venice Film Festival.

I went to go see the film on the strength of the male supporting cast; namely, Rutger Hauer, Malcolm McDowell and Tcheky Karyo. Now the former two actors tend to do a lot of straight-to-video schlock, but in the right project, they could be dynamite. This is not that kind of project, and while McDowell livens the proceedings up with his haughty, snooty turn as an art historian with some secrets, Hauer just walks nonchalantly through his role as Van Beunigen, the director of the Galleria dell'Accademia. However, to be fair to Hauer, he isn't given much to do. Paul Guilfoyle's stint as the mafiosi Rossi has a bit of spark and kind of reminds me a little of William Hurt in A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE. The other performances (including the young leads) are pretty wooden and misdirected for the most part.

The whole story of skulduggery in the Venice art world is pretty anemic. Despite the seemingly dynamic thefts and bravura stiletto-in-the-eye killings, it strangely lacks dramatic thrust and is never in the least bit convincing. The love interest situation is pat and even slightly comical rather than involving or in the least bit erotic. In general, the proceedings have a sort of phoned-in quality similar to the lead character's conversation with the insurance company that hired him back in New York.

The initial cast listing on IMDb.com was perplexing as it listed McDowell and Karyo as playing a character named Valenzin. One thing's for sure: there is only one Valenzin character in the film and Karyo is definitely NOT playing him, which leads me to believe that he was supposed to be cast, but was replaced by McDowell. Oh, well, so much the better for Karyo in a way. At least he doesn't have another sub-par movie in his resume.

Renegade (2004)

A Mixed Bag

[3 March 2004]

Jan Kounen's latest effort is an existentialist western with opulent visuals, threadbare characterization and a shamanistic undercurrent. It is really unique, but it really isn't brilliant in its uniqueness. The only film that it vaguely reminds me of is EL TOPO, but taken in full, it's still quite different from anything that's out there.

It's a yarn that is suffering an identity crisis - it really doesn't know what it wants to be, and no one element of it wins out in the end. It will not appeal to most western genre fans because even though it has the trappings (and cliches) of a western, it doesn't follow through with them and the characters are too one-note to be likeable or dislikeable. It fails as a revealing exploration of shamanism because it doesn't give the uninitiated any background.

BLUEBERRY has a great cast, but for the most part they're wasted (no pun intended - Tcheky Karyo, in particular) and some of the casting seems gimmicky, especially that of Ernest Borgnine. Even Cassel, who is usually compelling and tries hard, fails to engage. Juliette Lewis does hold interest in a sexy turn as the spirited girl (favorite line - after hitting the weasely character Prosit who stumbles into the saloon, interrupting her rendition of a folk tune, she blurts out "You ruined my song!") in love with the protagonist, and there are some nice full-frontal shots of her in the nude underwater towards the end - one of the film's assets.

Kounen seems to have made a conscious effort to make something really different from his previous film, the brilliantly over-the-top DOBERMANN, and he has succeeded, but the film itself is somewhat disappointing. It has its moments, though. Some sequences are very strong visual storytelling. And I'm sure some people will be annoyed by it, but I actually enjoyed the ponderous pace of the film.

The film is in English and a rare Native American language, with a light sprinkling of French. Subtitling on the non-English parts (there are some fairly extended sequences in the Native American language) would've really helped, I think. Some of the CGI visuals in the peyote trip sequences are beautiful and genuinely disturbing. In general, the parts where Blueberry is among the tribe are the most intriguing and seem to belong in a different film.

Perhaps this one gets better on a second viewing, or after a few hits on some psychotropic substances...

Subway (1985)

A triumph of style over substance... but I love it!!!

[17 July 2003]

It's kind of hard to write about this movie, because it's hard to write about things you really like. It's really quite a unique film, and is certainly not without its detractors. It's also light and airy, not deep at all - simply very entertaining.

I really appreciate it for its sleek, streamlined style, its exquisite widescreen cinematography, its excellent and thoroughly modern score, its motley collection of some of the best actors in French cinema, including some of those in cameo roles. Some of the shades of character shown by the actors are quite intriguing - Lambert's slight insecurity, wisecracking (ha!) laugh and sob story; Adjani's impetuousness; Hugues-Anglade's nervy energy; Reno's nonchalance, percussive rattling and love of coffee; Galabru waxing philosophical with Bohringer about blind violence; Alexandov's nonchalance ("If you don't like me so much, get a divorce!"), etc.

People are pretty much right when they say the film has no plot. It's just a series of vignettes, really. One of my favorites is the scene where Fred and Helena dance to Rickie Lee Jones' "Lucky Guy" playing on a boom box. There's something undeniably romantic about it, and I lived out a similar scene the autumn of 1992 in one of my amorous entanglements.

POSSIBLE SPOILER AHEAD

There's even a small take on the relationships of musicians joining a band: when Arthur Simm first meets the new band put together by Fred, you can sense his shyness as he glances over at Fred and hugs the wall with his back. Serra seems blasé behind his sunglasses and Reno shakes his head. But then they just begin to play, and everything turns out all right. In a subsequent scene, Simm is shown thoroughly at ease and having a laugh with the other bandmembers. This is all very recognizable and so true-to-life.

When I visited Paris in 1996, I recognized some of the locations from the film when I went to Les Halles, one of the biggest shopping complexes in the city, which is sort of "organically" integrated with the Metro. It's the place where the horizontal escalators are and also the large elevators seen in the sequence where the cop known as Batman chases Fred. While in Paris, I also picked up the soundtrack on CD at the Virgin Megastore on the Champs-Elysees. I was living in the States at the time, and the soundtrack to SUBWAY is really very hard to find there - I never saw it on CD in the US, but managed to track down and buy an LP of it.

I had been waiting for years to see the film in its original aspect ratio and in French, and I finally got my chance when I bought the licensed (non-pirate) Russian DVD of the film, which is in widescreen and has the French soundtrack with Russian subtitles. There is a small defect on the DVD as there are a few episodes where the subtitles don't match the dialogue - the text of the subtitles in these scenes are a repetition of the dialogue in the previous scenes. It's as if the Russian DVD distributor didn't care much about the release of this film, which can also be said about the initial American DVD release. I traded this DVD in and got a European-issue (Region 2) DVD that had complete, properly functioning Russian subtitles, as well as English and host of other languages.

It's one of these films that stands up to multiple viewings, both in whole or in part. Having the definitive DVD version certainly helps.

The Cuckoo (2002)

Finnish-Russian synergy creates an international hit

[27 January 2003]

Russia's film industry is in a drought of international distribution, but the World War II-era drama KUKUSHKA(CUCKOO) seems set to break away from that rut. The film, by St. Petersburg-based director Alexander Rogozhkin, has been picked up by Sony Pictures Classics for limited distribution through American art-house theaters. Rogozhkin has achieved a level of recognition on the world festival circuit with his previous works, the comedy OSOBENNOSTI NATSIONALNOY OKHOTY (PECULIARTIES OF THE NATIONAL HUNT) and the Chechen-war drama BLOKPOST (CHECKPOINT).

PECULIARTIES OF THE NATIONAL HUNT, produced at Lenfilm Studios in 1994 during a low point in the studio's general track record, was a box office success in Russia, and spawned something of a franchise, with two sequels, spin-offs and even a brand of vodka named after Kuzmich, the tireless, boozing outdoorsman played by Viktor Bychkov. The plot of the original film involved a young Finnish man (played by Ville Haapasalo) coming to Russia to experience a real Russian hunt, only to fall in with Kuzmich and his motley group of friends, who seem more interested in drinking than hunting.

Work on the film OSOBENNOSTI NATSIONALNOY RYBALKI (PECULIARTIES OF NATIONAL FISHING) cemented the friendship between Bychkov and Haapasalo, who went from relative obscurity to becoming household names in their respective countries with subsequent work on other films and TV commercials.

Haapasalo, a Finnish graduate of the St. Petersburg Theater Arts Academy, also acts on stage in Finland and is working on new translations of classic Russian drama into Finnish. Having appeared together in a stage adaption of Fyodor Dostoevsky's "Diary of a Madman," Haapasalo and Bychkov asked Rogozhkin to write a stage play for three people, something in which they could appear together. Rogozhkin accepted the challenge, and the screenplay for KUKUSHKA was the result.

"They asked me to write a play, but I didn't see a play," recalled Rogozhkin at a press conference before the film's release. "I saw the story I was writing as a film, and once I had the ending down, I knew I had the film."

A former history student, Rogozhkin was intrigued by the Continuation War, a protraction of the Russo-Finnish Winter War and part of the greater WWII conflict. The cease-fire with the Soviet Union began officially Sept. 4, 1944, although forces on both sides continued firing until the next morning. This is when the film's story begins.

Unaware of the conflict's end, one Soviet Army officer and one Finnish soldier are imprisoned in the wilderness for different, unexplained reasons. They escape through a mix of effort and circumstance, and end up in the hut of a lonely but spirited Saami woman who does not take sides, but takes care of - and comes to love - them both. Rogozhkin wanted to go beyond the story of three people converging in the hinterlands of war, to create a situation where three people speak three different languages but come to understand one another in other ways.

After some consultation with Haapasalo and others, Rogozhkin decided that the third person in the film would be a Saami woman, the correct term for the people more commonly known as the Lapp. The Saami language is part of the Finno-Ugric group, but is very different from Finnish. Traditionally, the Saami hunted wild reindeer, though they have adapted to herd semi-domesticated reindeer. The film offers a glimpse into Saami life through the microcosm of the life of Anni, a young widow living on the Karelian coast. Anni is played by Anni-Christina Juuso, a Saami who dealt with language barriers on the film's set. She does not speak Russian and depended upon Haapasalo for translation.

Haapasalo plays Veiko, a Finnish sniper - making the film's title a play on words, since "kukushka," or cuckoo, is also Russian military slang for sniper. Chained to a rock by SS officers, and clothed in an SS uniform that would condemn him to death if discovered by Russian patrols, Veiko spends a good portion of the film trying to extricate himself.

For the role, Haapasalo wore authentic Finnish army underclothes of the period, some of which belonged to his grandfather. "I changed after working on this film," Haapasalo said. "I began to see my grandfather in another light. I won't watch this film - I don't watch any of my films. But from what I know of it, I think the film will stand multiple viewings. It may take seeing it more than once to fully understand it."

Bychkov's portrayal of Captain Kartuzov is a real departure from his Kuzmich character. Bychkov put on some weight for the role, and his demeanor is solemn and conscientious, markedly different from his happy-go-lucky Kuzmich. The seriousness of the role broke his typecasting a little bit: "Some people who had addressed me informally before started calling me by my first name and patronymic after seeing the film," Bychkov said. KUKUSHKA premiered at the Moscow Film Festival in June 2002, where it won Silver St. George awards for Best Director and Best Actor (Haapasalo). The film has also been received favorably in Finland, and Haapasalo has received a Patriot of Finland Award from a Finnish veterans' association in Lahti.

The film has a lot riding on the Bychkov-Haapasalo rapport, but Rogozhkin is confident: "These are two actors with very different psycho-physical aspects," he admitted. "But they do have a peculiar chemistry."

And Bychkov says Juuso's contribution was no less important: "Despite the fact that Ville had to translate for her at every turn, she understood the story - with her heart."

Ein Yeti zum Verlieben (2001 TV Movie)

Big Foot stomps the small screen

[27 January 2003]

German cinema has experienced something of a revival in the past decade. Germany has seen an increase in the quality, quantity and variety of films produced, and the burgeoning German film scene has already produced a number of promising young directors.

One is Berlin-based filmmaker Thorsten Schmidt, whose EIN YETI ZUM VERLIEBEN is a quite a decent family film. Made for German television, the film nevertheless stretches its shoestring budget very well and is a cut above many a family telefilm. It deserves a wider audience and could have easily been distributed theatrically.

YETI tells the story of Tim Bergmann (Oliver Stokowksi, who went on to play one of the inmates in DAS EXPERIMENT) a down-on-his-luck zoologist, his 12-year-old daughter and an opportunistic female business journalist who become embroiled in an adventure involving a captured bigfoot creature on an expedition to the Himalayas. The acting is uniformly good throughout and the Yeti is indeed lovable. The only complaint is that the film is a bit too fast-paced, but then this may be appropriate to TV.

Schmidt has a broadly appealing, breezy directorial style that shows versatility and much promise (his short film ROCHADE won a student Academy Award), and Bernhard Jasper's kinetic and precise cinematography, with streamlined and exquisitely-framed visuals, is about as far-removed from TV movie cinematography as one can get. Schmidt and Jasper are talents to watch out for!

Vtorostepennye lyudi (2001)

Dregs of society given the absurdist treatment

[27 January 2003]

Kira Muratova is a Moldovan-born Russian filmmaker working in Ukraine. Her Russian-language film, VTOROSTEPENNIYE LYUDI (SECOND-CLASS CITIZENS), reached Moscow in Spring 2002 after a bumpy release history.

The film's world premiere at the 2001 Berlin Film Festival was slapdash due to Muratova's failure to have the film adequately prepared for the festival. In typical Slavic slacker fashion, the premiere copy was printed at the lab in the nick of time, and so there was no time left to subtitle the print - it had to be shipped to Berlin immediately. Without the benefit of subtitles for the international audience in Berlin, the film was consequently virtually ignored; however, the film did win the FIPRESCI Prize at the Kinotavr Festival, Russia's Sochi-based knock-off of Cannes.

The movie examines the lives of the not-so-fortunate dregs of society through airy but uneven absurdist comedy. The unfortunates of the title are mentally challenged people, some of whom could be termed insane - or merely inane.

VTOROSTEPENNIYE LYUDI was written by Sergei Chetvertkov. He also plays a role in this film, and his endearing turn as an amiable, kindly doctor is one of the best things about it. He goes on a house call to the home of Vera, a woman whose hated drunkard of a husband has just died after an accident in which he received a blow to the head. Vera is played by by Natalya Buzko in an annoyingly monotonous performance. The doctor tries to revive the man unsuccessfully and is wooed by the desperate woman. He resists her advances, and tries to resolve her predicament.

Unfortunately, Chetvertkov's character disappears about 20 minutes into the film, never to return. The film becomes noticeably tedious after his exit. The remaining story focuses on Vera's efforts to dispose of the body, which leads her into the company of assorted weirdos and mental cases and eventually takes her to the airport.

Muratova does a good job of evoking a bizarre, somewhat visually stylish atmosphere in the opening scenes, but the film is sloppy, anemic and loses its thrust too quickly in the middle. The denouement, on Vera's second trip to the airport, contains a startling revelation that shows up the senselessness of everything that came before, making for a slightly more vigorous finish.

Mortal Transfer (2001)

Warm colors, broad strokes and an element of the perverse.

[27 January 2003]

Jean-Jacques Beineix's new film MORTAL TRANSFER is about the misadventures of Freudian psychoanalyst Michel Durand (Jean-Hugues Anglade), who discovers his beautiful female client strangled on his analyst's couch. Instead of going to the police, he just tries to get rid of the body, leading to a nightmarish and at times phantasmagoric odyssey through a nighttime Paris populated by assorted oddballs. The script is by Beineix and Jean-Pierre Gattegno, from Gattegno's novel of the same name. Anglade provides a great mix of vulnerability and determination as the occasionally hapless shrink. "He's wonderful, he's not afraid of anything," commented Beineix at the film's world premiere at the Berlin Film Festival.

Beineix visited Moscow in 2001 to present the film at French Film Week. In an interview with Russian entertainment website Weekend.ru, Beineix provided the key to understanding his film: "What do we do in the process of psychoanalytic therapy? We try to get rid of the body of our childhood. What do killers do in detective movies? They try to get rid of the body. I just combined these two stories. My film is from the point of view of the psychoanalyst and the patient at the same time. Gattegno and I both underwent psychotherapy. We were amused by the possibility of transferring to acting, to comedy, those feelings we'd had on the analyst's couch. Not one session of psychoanalysis ends without the unconscious examination of the patient's attitude toward death."

Due to its increased complexity, the film is just slightly more challenging to appreciate than Beineix's other work, such as DIVA and BETTY BLUE. Nevertheless, it is just as exquisitely crafted, and is markedly more humorous, albeit in twisted ways. Beineix has a flair for the unexpected - this is a heady mix of genres: a stylish black comedy and a tense thriller at the same time, told with warm colors, broad strokes and an element of the perverse.

With a Friend Like Harry... (2000)

It's a not really a thriller, but it IS a great psychodrama!

[8/10 · 26 March 2002]

I saw this film in December 2000 at the Black Nights Film Festival in Tallinn, Estonia. It was one of the best films there.

I don't recall all of the finer plot points, but I do remember that the film goes much deeper than the "thriller" context into which a lot of people commenting on this site keep wanting to pigeonhole it. To me it was about the often losing struggle to find balance between one's creative impulses and the realities of one's life. It's really about finding one's place in one's own life, and I find it to be quite inspiring. I even agree somewhat with the criticisms that it wasn't exciting enough - it wasn't meant to be. In my mind, this film is not really a thriller and IS a psychological drama of the highest order.

Curiously enough, at the same Black Nights fest, M. Night Shyamalan's UNBREAKABLE was showing, and I think that that film is probably a good Hollywood equivalent to HARRY. The similarity between these two films is not so obvious, but it there is some passing resemblance. The way the films get to where they're going is quite different, but the destination seems to be the same.

***POSSIBLE SPOILER AHEAD***

Extremely well acted by the two leads, Sergi Lopez and Laurent Lucas, the film paints a wonderful portrait of a highly creative man trapped in a humdrum life half-rescued by an entity that's all will and no conscience. The interpretation expressed by other viewers commenting here that Harry is but a figment of Michel's imagination is intriguing to me, and seems to fit. It does play around with some of the themes that can be found in FIGHT CLUB (which I also like, by the way,) but it's a lot less bombastic.

As a thirtysomething who caught the writing bug long ago, but hasn't been all around "successful" at it and a bit browbeaten by "everyday" life, I can relate very well to Michel. He's actually quite a likeable and sane character, even if Harry seems like a pathological manifestation of his frustrations.

I suppose then that this is one of those films that "isn't for everybody." No film really is for every damn body, but some films are an acquired taste. If you're tuned into the film's concerns somewhat like I surmise myself to be, you'll dig it. If not, it is likely to be somewhat of a bore.

American Beauty (1999)

A Beauty of a Film

[19 March 2002]

They say it's hard to write about something you like a lot. Well, I'm gonna try.

This film is really a rare gem, a film where the jury is out: a big hit with audiences and critics alike. I mean, let's face it, a lot of decent films find favor either with audiences or critics - seldom with both.

AMERICAN BEAUTY is unabashedly honest and has a script to die for. I found its handling of sexuality to be forthright and very tasteful at the same time. Kevin Spacey delivers - he's oh so easy to identify with, and is a real hoot, to boot. The script really allows him and the other players a lot of latitude in making their characters transparent and believable.

The casting seems perfect, and the acting is uniformly good. Aside from the obvious kudos to Spacey's bravura performance, Chris Cooper's contribution in the tricky, difficult part of Colonel Fitts is notable as well. Cooper is one of the greatest and most underrated American actors. He deserves more leading roles - one of his best appearances was in John Sayles' 1987 film MATEWAN. Wes Bentley as Ricky Fitts is also worth mentioning. I empathized quite a bit with his outlook on life.

I saw it for the first time alone in the beautiful Tuchinsky Theater in Amsterdam, and it was an incredible experience - I hadn't had that much fun and inspiration at the movies in a long time. Also, seeing it in Amsterdam did enhance appreciation for certain finer elements of the pot... uh, I mean plot.

I suppose that some people will take issue with the fact that the film isn't completely realistic. Indeed some characters, particularly Lester and Ricky are larger than life, but then that is a significant part of their appeal, and part of the intrepid brilliance of the film as a whole. They do some things that some of us only dream of doing, but there's enough of them that's similar to us to make us like them immensely, and take a moment to reflect on what makes our lives worth living.

I can't wait to see Sam Mendes' next films: ROAD TO PERDITION and PHANTOM OF THE OPERA.

Memento (2000)

So What?!? The Characters are Pure Cardboard

[1/10 · 21 November 2001]

I saw this film after hearing all the hype while on my last trip back to the States. It turns out that it's much ado about nothing.

I was not impressed. In fact, I was almost depressed that something so evidently sub-par was being touted as nothing short of a revelation.

So what if the film has an unusual non-linear narrative structure??? So what if it's stylish, hip and has great cinematography? I don't care for the characters one bit! They're pure cardboard, impossible to relate to, sketchy at best - even Guy Pearce's character. They exist solely as pegs for a context which is not all that interesting in and of itself - in fact, it's downright pedestrian. A guy's wife is raped and killed and he goes after the killer when he wakes up - how many times has that one been used? The whole thing is contrived and stinks of an exercise - it's just soulless mental masturbation, and anyone getting off on it is really selling themselves short!

Even the much-talked about backwards narrative structure isn't all that new. It's been done before in a film by David Hugh Jones called BETRAYAL, with Jeremy Irons, Patricia Hodge and Ben Kingsley. Even though the story is quite different from this film, BETRAYAL has everything this film lacks - strong characterizations and people that you actually care about. In BETRAYAL, you anxiously await the next flashback because you are genuinely concerned about the characters' fate. MEMENTO, with each flashback, just gets more and more annoying.

It WAS slightly intriguing to see Joe Pantoliano and Carrie-Anne Moss (refugees from THE MATRIX) in this together, as it is another play on "What is really real?" but this is hardly a benefit. However, I don't blame the actors one bit - they were just not given much to work with.

Incidentally, Guy Pearce IS someone to watch. It'd be interesting to see him and Brad Pitt together in a film - they'd be very believable as brothers.