It's been awhile since I pulled out a Subtitle Saturday entry, but this is a great film that should be considered, even though you have to read throughout if you don't speak Japanese! One of the things that I have admired every time I have watched a film by Akira Kurosawa is how drenched in passion they are. The characters all live in a culture that seems to prize dignity and honor in a way in which my culture does not. At the same time, since his films deal with characters in crisis, the dignified air of the characters is peeled away, and the viewer is left with raw emotion.
This is on display in "Ran". I have never read "King Lear" by Shakespeare, and that is the play from which Kurosawa took the story for this film. The story follows an aging samurai who decides to retire from his life as a war lord and he passes along his realm and all his authority to one of his sons. Everyone around the aging patriarch questions his decision, but he sticks with it. Almost immediately, everything falls apart. For several different reasons, it becomes clear that the father's decision was not the correct one, and nearly everyone in the story has to live with the dreadful consequences of his decision. There are many stories that have a lot in common with this one. I was reminded of the "Godfather" trilogy, which follows the transfer of power from Vito to Michael, and how Michael's tenure as Godfather ends up working out. In the end, both patriarchs pay terrible prices for how they have chosen to live. While they ruled their clans, there was peace by force. Once they lose that power, all of the hurt and the discord that has always been present bubbles to the surface, and the again patriarch is forced to deal with the consequences of the life that he had chosen.
This film is a sprawling epic that is blood soaked. As such, it reminds me of many ancient epics that are overblown in their violence, but they are that way for a reason. The bloodshed is there to show in an extreme way the results of the actions of the characters. Since this film is in line with a classic tragedy, all the characters are extreme in their emotions and their actions. These extremes end up leading to overblown, violent action. The ability of Kurosawa to evoke humanity in this film is commendable. We know that the patriarch is paying for his past sins, but he is still sympathetic because we see his world crumbling around him. We view with contempt the scheming wife of one of the sons, but we come to understand her rage in the end due to all of her own pain.
The film's battle sequences seem to have inspired many films like "Braveheart." They are amazingly choreographed and realized. The violence in the film is striking and pulls few punches--be warned. But in the end, the film is not about violence. It is about an inability for one generation to pass its vision on to another. As such, it is universal in its themes. The film's true strength is to create sympathy for these characters who live very different lives from the viewer, but are still human. This is a riveting and tragic film which strikes a universal tone.
Showing posts with label Subtitle Saturdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Subtitle Saturdays. Show all posts
Friday, June 8, 2012
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Subtitle Saturday: The Exterminating Angel
I have heard of this film for years, but finally had the opportunity to see it recently. It is the work of a director of Spanish origin, Luis Buñuel, though he made this film in Mexico. He made dozens of films over the course of a long career. His most famous film may be "Belle du Jour", but this film seems to have prompted even greater praise in many of the internet ramblings with which I have interacted.
The "meaning" of this film and how all the pieces come together is unknown. The Buñuel himself has stated that the meaning of the film is unknown. This allows for the film to be an almost post modern work. True, there clearly is some meaning to the film, but so much of it is so subjective, that the greater point being made seems to be more twofold. First, the film seems to be making some statements about class and the nature of humanity. Second, the film also makes a statement about the nature of reality itself. Buñuel's work here reminds me of Salvador Dali, and in reading, it seems as though he actually influenced Dali. This is a fascinating work, and it is so for these two reasons, but for other reasons as well.
The basic premise of the movie is provocative. A group of upper class people come home to one of their homes for a post performance dinner. For reasons never explained, all of the servants leave the house before dinner. That would be interesting enough without what takes place after that. After dinner and a piano performance from one of the guests, none of the guests are able to leave the house. All of the guests know that it is odd for them not to leave, and what keeps them in the house is never explained. The simple fact remains...none of the people in the house can leave. As this situation carries on for hours and eventually days, the veneer of civilization is slowly peeled away. In this way, it reminds me of Lord of the Flies. Though here, the people in question are not young boys who are without supervision, but independent adults who become almost unable to function. The lone exception is the doctor who is among the guests. He is able to remain calm and aid all of his fellow guests through the experience. In spite of that, there is still plenty of chaos, and the evil of mankind is on full display as skeletons come out of nearly every closet.
Beyond the brilliant premise of the movie, the execution of the movie is amazing. This movie creates the same kind of a feeling that one gets when one sees a Salvador Dali painting. It also feels like a dream. I am astonished at how well this movie attains that. We all dream, so we all know the logic of dreams. Sometimes in our dreams we are able or unable to do certain things, and even though it doesn't make sense, it still seems to make sense in our minds as we dream. To be able to translate that tone over 90 minutes with actual images truly is remarkable. In fact, that element of the movie was more becoming to me than the actual story, as interesting as that was.
The movie's closing images are enigmatic. They are that way on purpose I think. This director seems more interested in provoking thought and discussion then on getting a "point" across. All the same, clearly Buñuel has his issues both with the wealthy class, and with the church. The closing images of the church are challenging, but I did not find them to be condemning the church. Instead, the very nature of reality is called in question, and that brings with it lots of thought provoking questions and ideas. I will need to watch this movie again. It is a trip.
The "meaning" of this film and how all the pieces come together is unknown. The Buñuel himself has stated that the meaning of the film is unknown. This allows for the film to be an almost post modern work. True, there clearly is some meaning to the film, but so much of it is so subjective, that the greater point being made seems to be more twofold. First, the film seems to be making some statements about class and the nature of humanity. Second, the film also makes a statement about the nature of reality itself. Buñuel's work here reminds me of Salvador Dali, and in reading, it seems as though he actually influenced Dali. This is a fascinating work, and it is so for these two reasons, but for other reasons as well.
The basic premise of the movie is provocative. A group of upper class people come home to one of their homes for a post performance dinner. For reasons never explained, all of the servants leave the house before dinner. That would be interesting enough without what takes place after that. After dinner and a piano performance from one of the guests, none of the guests are able to leave the house. All of the guests know that it is odd for them not to leave, and what keeps them in the house is never explained. The simple fact remains...none of the people in the house can leave. As this situation carries on for hours and eventually days, the veneer of civilization is slowly peeled away. In this way, it reminds me of Lord of the Flies. Though here, the people in question are not young boys who are without supervision, but independent adults who become almost unable to function. The lone exception is the doctor who is among the guests. He is able to remain calm and aid all of his fellow guests through the experience. In spite of that, there is still plenty of chaos, and the evil of mankind is on full display as skeletons come out of nearly every closet.
Beyond the brilliant premise of the movie, the execution of the movie is amazing. This movie creates the same kind of a feeling that one gets when one sees a Salvador Dali painting. It also feels like a dream. I am astonished at how well this movie attains that. We all dream, so we all know the logic of dreams. Sometimes in our dreams we are able or unable to do certain things, and even though it doesn't make sense, it still seems to make sense in our minds as we dream. To be able to translate that tone over 90 minutes with actual images truly is remarkable. In fact, that element of the movie was more becoming to me than the actual story, as interesting as that was.
The movie's closing images are enigmatic. They are that way on purpose I think. This director seems more interested in provoking thought and discussion then on getting a "point" across. All the same, clearly Buñuel has his issues both with the wealthy class, and with the church. The closing images of the church are challenging, but I did not find them to be condemning the church. Instead, the very nature of reality is called in question, and that brings with it lots of thought provoking questions and ideas. I will need to watch this movie again. It is a trip.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Subtitle Saturday: My Father's Glory
Since I watched this film and its companion piece ("My Mother's Castle") out of order, I felt I had a unique perspective on this movie. It was a little like watching the "Star Wars" prequels, minus all of the computer animation. I was able to see some of the background for the story that I had so much enjoyed, but I also was able to take in a self contained story. One could watch either of these films independently, but seeing them both brings greater texture to the world.
This movie shows us the arrival of the two movies' protagonist, Marcel. We see him being born to this school teacher father and doting mother. The family settles in the lovely town of Marseilles in the south of France, and they begin to build their life as a family. A baby brother is born named Paul, and finally, a little sister. As the movie goes along, it is clear that the mother (Augustine) has a sister who desires a husband, and she finds one in Jules. Jules is a devout Catholic who does not hide his feelings toward his secular brother in law, Marcel's father Joseph. Joseph is a bright eyed school teacher who is heavy on book smarts, and who beams with excitement as he teaches his students of the possibilities that await them in the 20th century. Eventually, Jules and Joseph decide to treat their respective families to a holiday villa in the Provence, just outside of the town of Marseilles.
The villa ends up being not only the primary setting for both this film and its companion film, but also something which symbolizes something greater. More on that in a minute. Suffice it to say, the family loves their holiday home. As viewers, we can almost feel the lazy summer in the sir as we watch this film, even though I watched it in the middle of a Minnesota winter. As the family settles into their summer home, the book smarts of Joseph begin to be outshone by the outdoor saavy of Marcel's Uncle Jules. This is crushing for little Marcel, as he sees his father as perfect. As his father and uncle go hunting, he begins to see how little his father knows about the outdoors. While Marcel follows his uncle and father in their hunting, he befriends a country boy, and begins to scheme on how he can make the alluring desert of the Provence his permanent home.
Marcel's desire to make the country his permanent home feeds into what I believe is the principle theme as these two films. The theme is longing. There in lies the genius of thee films. One needn't ever visit the Provence to identify with the family. The scene that drove this point home the most was one of the last scenes in the movie. As the holidays draw to a close, school beckons both the teacher and the student back to their home. As the adults contemplate leaving their summer retreat, they begin to point out some of the shortcomings of their villa. They complain of the lack of indoor plumbing, and yearn for their modern appliances back in Marseilles. Marcel listens to these musings with absolute disgust, as he views their comments as blasphemous. To him, the Provence has become a paradise on earth. It is a place with no shortcomings, and he is enraged by the adults and their worldly comforts.
All of us long for rest and repose. We all have a place that acts as one. All of us long for such a villa. For my family, our "villa" has become a rental cabin in Brainerd, Minnesota. When I was growing up, my family loved getting away to the mountains. We visited the Sierras, the small town of Big Bear, and the great National Parks of the West. I also always regarded my home in La Habra as a place of escape and repose. What is important about all these places is that they act as a piece of heaven on earth. They are places devoid of care. They are places which elicit nostalgia. I couldn't help but smile in recognition as this film ended. For even though the nuts and bolts of the story are quite different than from my upbringing, the feelings are the same. Great art does just that. It gives us familiar feelings, even with characters with whom we have precious little in common.
This movie shows us the arrival of the two movies' protagonist, Marcel. We see him being born to this school teacher father and doting mother. The family settles in the lovely town of Marseilles in the south of France, and they begin to build their life as a family. A baby brother is born named Paul, and finally, a little sister. As the movie goes along, it is clear that the mother (Augustine) has a sister who desires a husband, and she finds one in Jules. Jules is a devout Catholic who does not hide his feelings toward his secular brother in law, Marcel's father Joseph. Joseph is a bright eyed school teacher who is heavy on book smarts, and who beams with excitement as he teaches his students of the possibilities that await them in the 20th century. Eventually, Jules and Joseph decide to treat their respective families to a holiday villa in the Provence, just outside of the town of Marseilles.
The villa ends up being not only the primary setting for both this film and its companion film, but also something which symbolizes something greater. More on that in a minute. Suffice it to say, the family loves their holiday home. As viewers, we can almost feel the lazy summer in the sir as we watch this film, even though I watched it in the middle of a Minnesota winter. As the family settles into their summer home, the book smarts of Joseph begin to be outshone by the outdoor saavy of Marcel's Uncle Jules. This is crushing for little Marcel, as he sees his father as perfect. As his father and uncle go hunting, he begins to see how little his father knows about the outdoors. While Marcel follows his uncle and father in their hunting, he befriends a country boy, and begins to scheme on how he can make the alluring desert of the Provence his permanent home.
Marcel's desire to make the country his permanent home feeds into what I believe is the principle theme as these two films. The theme is longing. There in lies the genius of thee films. One needn't ever visit the Provence to identify with the family. The scene that drove this point home the most was one of the last scenes in the movie. As the holidays draw to a close, school beckons both the teacher and the student back to their home. As the adults contemplate leaving their summer retreat, they begin to point out some of the shortcomings of their villa. They complain of the lack of indoor plumbing, and yearn for their modern appliances back in Marseilles. Marcel listens to these musings with absolute disgust, as he views their comments as blasphemous. To him, the Provence has become a paradise on earth. It is a place with no shortcomings, and he is enraged by the adults and their worldly comforts.
All of us long for rest and repose. We all have a place that acts as one. All of us long for such a villa. For my family, our "villa" has become a rental cabin in Brainerd, Minnesota. When I was growing up, my family loved getting away to the mountains. We visited the Sierras, the small town of Big Bear, and the great National Parks of the West. I also always regarded my home in La Habra as a place of escape and repose. What is important about all these places is that they act as a piece of heaven on earth. They are places devoid of care. They are places which elicit nostalgia. I couldn't help but smile in recognition as this film ended. For even though the nuts and bolts of the story are quite different than from my upbringing, the feelings are the same. Great art does just that. It gives us familiar feelings, even with characters with whom we have precious little in common.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Subtitle Saturday: My Mother's Castle
I realized after I watched this movie that I should have watched its companion film ("My Father's Glory") first...oh well. I look forward to watching the other film, because this movie was very enjoyable. It's one of those kinds of movies that truly evokes a certain feeling. It doesn't tell a profound story, and it doesn't have a grand message. Instead, it tells a simple story, tells it well, and elicits great nostalgia for the viewer.
The story gives us that emotion by depicting a family's longing. The family yearns for simplicity and rest in its holiday home. It tells the story of a boy named Marcel and his family. They live the French city of Marseilles, but they pine for more time at their country home in the hills of Provence. The movie takes great care to show us why the family loves their holiday home so much. There are wonderful encounters with gregarious family members depicted. There are days in which Marcel simply live to wander "his hills", exploring his holiday home, and taking great joy in having new adventures and making friends at his holiday home. There is also a traditional French Christmas feast depicted which evokes a lot. It made me hungry as I watched.
As with most stories, there is an eventual crisis. The family finds a way to spend every weekend at their holiday home, but the walk to their home is a long and winding road. They are offered a short cut by a public official, but it involves trespassing on private properties. The family loves their country home so much, but they have to decide whether they should risk breaking the law so that a 2 hour trip could turn into a mere 30 minute stroll. The decision takes on a different tone when it is revealed that Marcel's mother is of weak constitution.
Once again, the plot of the movie is not as much the point as the feelings the movie evokes. As I watched, I thought about how much my kids have grown to love our family escapes to Northern Minnesota. The last couple of years, we have been able to have multi day escapes to Brainerd, Minnesota. The kids love swimming in the lake, and Steph and I can revel in watching them and in enjoying utter peace. I thought of those times while I watched this movie. All of us have an idyllic place that feels like a paradise on earth. The place is often difficult to get to, and usually, the time spent there is short. But we all feel rejuvenated by the experience of going to our special place of rest. For the characters in this movie, that place is the hills of Provence. What is special about this movie is its ability to evoke the longing for our own place. It certainly makes Provence look idyllic, but I think even more, it makes us long for our place.
The story gives us that emotion by depicting a family's longing. The family yearns for simplicity and rest in its holiday home. It tells the story of a boy named Marcel and his family. They live the French city of Marseilles, but they pine for more time at their country home in the hills of Provence. The movie takes great care to show us why the family loves their holiday home so much. There are wonderful encounters with gregarious family members depicted. There are days in which Marcel simply live to wander "his hills", exploring his holiday home, and taking great joy in having new adventures and making friends at his holiday home. There is also a traditional French Christmas feast depicted which evokes a lot. It made me hungry as I watched.
As with most stories, there is an eventual crisis. The family finds a way to spend every weekend at their holiday home, but the walk to their home is a long and winding road. They are offered a short cut by a public official, but it involves trespassing on private properties. The family loves their country home so much, but they have to decide whether they should risk breaking the law so that a 2 hour trip could turn into a mere 30 minute stroll. The decision takes on a different tone when it is revealed that Marcel's mother is of weak constitution.
Once again, the plot of the movie is not as much the point as the feelings the movie evokes. As I watched, I thought about how much my kids have grown to love our family escapes to Northern Minnesota. The last couple of years, we have been able to have multi day escapes to Brainerd, Minnesota. The kids love swimming in the lake, and Steph and I can revel in watching them and in enjoying utter peace. I thought of those times while I watched this movie. All of us have an idyllic place that feels like a paradise on earth. The place is often difficult to get to, and usually, the time spent there is short. But we all feel rejuvenated by the experience of going to our special place of rest. For the characters in this movie, that place is the hills of Provence. What is special about this movie is its ability to evoke the longing for our own place. It certainly makes Provence look idyllic, but I think even more, it makes us long for our place.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Subtitle Saturday: M
I have never seen "The Silence of the Lambs." That may surprise some of you, while it may come as a relief to others. I have never seen it mainly because I don't like being frightened out of my mind. However, having said that, I do love a good thriller. Where the line is between horror and thriller is hard to say. Someday, I may have to see "Silence of the Lambs," just due to its notoriety. I bring that film up in this essay because the content of this film (though not the depiction of it) is similar. The plot and central character are both very disturbing. However, the skill of director Fritz Lang is to be found in how well he evokes dread without showing us one second of the crimes that the murderer commits.
Anyone who appreciates the work of Shymalan, Hitchcock or even a director like John Carpenter can find some of the templates of their best work here in this film. The movie follows the horror in a German city who has begun to see little girls kidnapped and murdered. The murderer has left not clues (as of yet), so the police are dumbfounded. As the body count rises, the panic of the people of the city has reached a frenzy. Then, a plot twist occurs which is genius storytelling. With all of the danger in the city, the police presence has been increased. All of this murder has increased police presence and begun to affect the lucrative organized crime circuit in the city. As a result, the underworld in the city begins its own manhunt. There are some remarkable moments wherein the cops and the crime lords are both shown making their plans. The effect of these scenes is almost like a German Psychological Thriller version of dueling banjos.
This movie has a lot going for it, so I can see why it is regarded as a classic (it was made in 1931). First, the whodunit is seen in a different light because the viewer has seen the killer in the opening scenes of the movie. We know what he looks like, so there is an almost omniscient feeling that the viewer has. Second, as I mentioned, how the plot unfolds with the criminals and the police is entertaining, and leads to some big laughs. Third, the way that the character is realized is downright courageous. The murderer commits unspeakable acts, but it becomes clear as the story unfolds that he is compulsive in his actions. He seems to be a truly sick man committing evil deeds. The movie is substantial enough to become philosophical regarding these very deep matters. Clearly, anyone person who attacks and harms children has no place in normal society. This movie asks some deep questions about the nature of crime, and how we should respond to it. At the same time, it does not tell us what to feel, but leaves it up to us to decide. Finally, Fritz Lang's camera tells the story of this film. This was the first sound picture that Lang made (there are still many scenes with no audible dialogue), and it is clear that he still sees this film medium as more visual than audible. Having said that, one of the things that will resonate with any viewer of this film is not visual, but audible. The murderer has a curious habit of whistling...once you hear him whistle, the tune he whistles may be forever tainted for you. If it is, than Lang is proving that he embraced the audible element of this film medium, and made this movie a complete experience-both visual and aural.
Peter Lorre deserves much credit. The character actor known for so many roles later in his career (Casablanca, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, The Maltese Falcon and many parodies in Loony Tunes shorts) got his start right here. His face tells the story of this character. But his posture, body language and tone of voice do a lot as well. His character is truly haunted by his compulsion, and he is a prisoner of his own evil sickness.
But as I mentioned earlier, the camera and the visuals are really the star of this movie. There are several reasons this is true. The camera at times reminds us of a stalker. And then there is the stark final scene of the movie. The climactic scene gives us truly unforgettable image that I will not spoil. Suffice to say, Lang's camera is able to catch so much of the despair of the situation, even after the murderer is discovered. This is truly a landmark piece of work.
Anyone who appreciates the work of Shymalan, Hitchcock or even a director like John Carpenter can find some of the templates of their best work here in this film. The movie follows the horror in a German city who has begun to see little girls kidnapped and murdered. The murderer has left not clues (as of yet), so the police are dumbfounded. As the body count rises, the panic of the people of the city has reached a frenzy. Then, a plot twist occurs which is genius storytelling. With all of the danger in the city, the police presence has been increased. All of this murder has increased police presence and begun to affect the lucrative organized crime circuit in the city. As a result, the underworld in the city begins its own manhunt. There are some remarkable moments wherein the cops and the crime lords are both shown making their plans. The effect of these scenes is almost like a German Psychological Thriller version of dueling banjos.
This movie has a lot going for it, so I can see why it is regarded as a classic (it was made in 1931). First, the whodunit is seen in a different light because the viewer has seen the killer in the opening scenes of the movie. We know what he looks like, so there is an almost omniscient feeling that the viewer has. Second, as I mentioned, how the plot unfolds with the criminals and the police is entertaining, and leads to some big laughs. Third, the way that the character is realized is downright courageous. The murderer commits unspeakable acts, but it becomes clear as the story unfolds that he is compulsive in his actions. He seems to be a truly sick man committing evil deeds. The movie is substantial enough to become philosophical regarding these very deep matters. Clearly, anyone person who attacks and harms children has no place in normal society. This movie asks some deep questions about the nature of crime, and how we should respond to it. At the same time, it does not tell us what to feel, but leaves it up to us to decide. Finally, Fritz Lang's camera tells the story of this film. This was the first sound picture that Lang made (there are still many scenes with no audible dialogue), and it is clear that he still sees this film medium as more visual than audible. Having said that, one of the things that will resonate with any viewer of this film is not visual, but audible. The murderer has a curious habit of whistling...once you hear him whistle, the tune he whistles may be forever tainted for you. If it is, than Lang is proving that he embraced the audible element of this film medium, and made this movie a complete experience-both visual and aural.
Peter Lorre deserves much credit. The character actor known for so many roles later in his career (Casablanca, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, The Maltese Falcon and many parodies in Loony Tunes shorts) got his start right here. His face tells the story of this character. But his posture, body language and tone of voice do a lot as well. His character is truly haunted by his compulsion, and he is a prisoner of his own evil sickness.
But as I mentioned earlier, the camera and the visuals are really the star of this movie. There are several reasons this is true. The camera at times reminds us of a stalker. And then there is the stark final scene of the movie. The climactic scene gives us truly unforgettable image that I will not spoil. Suffice to say, Lang's camera is able to catch so much of the despair of the situation, even after the murderer is discovered. This is truly a landmark piece of work.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Subtitle Saturday: The Bicycle Thief
I'm going to do something a little different this week. I am going to write on a movie that I have seen only once, and many years ago. How can I do this? I am going to do it because this film is so distinct in its tone and theme that it is very difficult to not be impressed by it.
The film takes place in Rome right after World War 2. As someone who has mainly seen Italy's beauty on display on film, this movie goes a different direction. The black and white cinematography, the spare plot, the story and the setting all combine to create a bleak world. Such a world could only exist in the bitter aftermath of a colossally destructive war. The movie follows one man who uses his bicycle to do his job. He has a young son who depends on him to do his job. Someone steals his bicycle, taking away his livelihood. He and his son go on a search for the bicycle.
It is a simple story told with empathy. The reason I chose to write on it, in spite of the fact that it is not yet a personal favorite, is that it has a reputation which proceeds it. Anytime there is a collection of great films, one is certain to find this film on the list. Why is that? Much like the Carol Reed film, "The Third Man", this movie captures a unique place and time. It also seems to look with a prophetic eye on where reality (or our interpretation of it) is headed. By the time we reach the end of the film, one can almost see that "The Usual Suspects" works in its shadow. Is what we have seen (or what we thought about what we were seeing) really what it seems. As this poor father struggles to maintain his and his son's life, he becomes willing to do almost anything to survive.
Most of us would do the same thing, or least feel the same way. The bleak picture of post war Rome puts us right next to our protagonist, who is capable of both great frustration over injustice and willingness to consider committing unjust acts in order to preserve himself. Being able to make this kind of impression after only one viewing speaks to the power of this movie. The movie's ability to stick with me over so many years does the same thing.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Subtitle Saturday: Au Revoir Les Enfants
Say what you will about "Schindler's List" (and most of it has been said)-- it is a brilliant, harrowing, complicated and stunning film. But one thing it is not is nuanced. Spielberg's haunting Holocaust narrative shouts its message from the rooftops. Its message should be shouted from the rooftops, but messages can be equally powerful if told quietly, or even with a whisper. Such is the case with this beautiful film. This is a film that is long on nuance, but short on sermonizing. If ever there were a subject worthy of a sermon, it is the Holocaust. But, the Holocaust also can be examined in varying ways. This movie is a good example of that.
This is the story of two young boys who are thrown together in a French Catholic boarding school during the waning days of World War 2. Julian and Jean are their names, and they end up being place next to each other in the sleeping quarters. The reasons for Jean being there are quite vague. As time goes along, it is clear that he lives his life differently than the other boys. He is a gifted musician, and it also becomes clear that he has no contact with his parents. As so many boys have been sent to this school so as to escape the dangers of the German occupation of Paris, it only seems natural for a boy to miss his parents. But Julian doesn't even seem to have contact with his parents. As time goes along, the truth becomes clear. The headmaster of the school has decided to hide Jews at his school in an attempt to protect them from the Nazi occupation, and from the Concentration Camps. Jean is one of the Jewish people he is hiding.
What makes this film different? I think that the film's soul lies in the headmaster. Pere Jean is his name. He has less screen time than the boys, but he radiates compassion, even though he is flawed. He walks a fine line in the movie, especially with the parents of the school, some of whom he offends when he gives a sermon criticizing wealth. The film's setting is in a bleak French winter, and I cannot help but feel that this setting is a statement regarding the overall plight of the French people during World War 2. Pere Jean seems at once compassionate and world weary, and the winter setting enhances the overall difficult circumstances of the film.
The other thing that the film gets right is its tone. This may best be reflected in the scene at the bath house. A group of the boys go into town for a bath. The bath house has a sign disallowing Jews from the premises. There is no dramatic bath house scene here. Instead, the very presence of Jean at this bath house creates tension. This tension signifies, to me, the kind of tension that would have been ubiquitous in Europe at this time. Since so many Jews lived in Europe, so many others lived with these everyday horrors right in front of them, but due to the fear that the Nazis invoked, they felt they could do nothing. This scene shows with great care how awkward it would be to hide from one's own identity simply for self preservation.
The film is terribly sad, but in a quiet, dignified way. It does not seek to bring the house down, but as more and more of the outside world begins to penetrate this small school, we can feel the tension. And as the closing moments of the film are revealed, we can sit in pensive silence as we deal yet again with the horrible realities of humanity and of the 20th century. To be able to do that simply by evoking a tone is quite an accomplishment.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
SUBTITLE SATURDAY: The Lives of Others, Revisited
As I come to the end of the first week of trying to blog more often, I have one other feature I want to share. I would like to blog once a week on some of my favorite movies from other countries, as well as new discoveries that I have made. I am also going to take the advice of one of my readers and begin to include trailers for the movies upon which I am writing an entry. The first movie I for this feature is one that I have already shared. It gave me the name of this blog, and it is my favorite movie of the last 10 years. I hope you enjoy my thoughts on it...if you have already read this entry, new ones are coming:
I could not think of a better title to borrow for the name of my blog than the title of this 2006 film from Germany. This is the best movie I have seen in the last ten years. I do not make it a practice to speak in absolutes when it comes to the arts, but it has meant more to me than any other film of which I can think. It won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film, and it is easy to see why it had such a powerful effect.
To sum it up, the film is set in East Germany in 1984. A loyal Socialist playwright (Georg) has begun to question some of the elements of the East German regime. At the same time, his girlfriend finds favor with the head of the East German police (The Stasi). The head of police decides to bug the playwright's house so he can pursue his girlfriend. They put their best surveillance man on the job (Wiesler). The movie could have become a silly voyeuristic romp. Instead, it takes a profound turn. The man listens into the life of this playwright, and realizes what he is missing in his own life. What he decides to do about it is what the film is about.
Georg's girlfriend is Christa Marie, one of the most popular stage actresses in East Germany. She is played by Martina Gedeck with such soul and sadness that one cannot help but feel her pain as we watch the movie. In the end, the socialists are crushing the creative lives in the country, including hers. She cannot bear it. As Georg plays a piece of music on the piano, he quotes a memorable quote from Lenin. Georg says that Lenin had to stop listening to Beethoven's Appasionata Sonata, because if he continued, the revolution wouldn't happen. Georg finally decides to stray from his loyalty when one of his favorite play directors commits suicide.
There are so many scenes to cherish: As Wiesler listens in on Georg's life, he observes the richness of beauty of his life, as opposed to his subject. While Georg enjoys a life of fulfilling love, Wiesler can only ask a prostitute if she can stay a while longer to keep him company. As Wiesler begins to change, he stops himself from pursuing the name of a child's father who has cast aspersions on the Stasi. The boy is innocent and is only quoting his father, and one can watch Wiesler's eyes as he hears the words of treason from the small boy, and then decides to go in a different direction. And finally, the lengths the people in this film have to pursue to simply have an honest conversation is striking.
The end of the film is sublime. It is so moving and true. I will not reveal it here of course, because it is too great a surprise to do so. For those of us old enough to remember watching the Berlin Wall fall, this film is extra poignant. It wasn't so long ago, but it seems distant. Watching the power of art, freedom and beauty change the heart of a man is a lovely sight. That is why I love this movie.
I could not think of a better title to borrow for the name of my blog than the title of this 2006 film from Germany. This is the best movie I have seen in the last ten years. I do not make it a practice to speak in absolutes when it comes to the arts, but it has meant more to me than any other film of which I can think. It won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film, and it is easy to see why it had such a powerful effect.
To sum it up, the film is set in East Germany in 1984. A loyal Socialist playwright (Georg) has begun to question some of the elements of the East German regime. At the same time, his girlfriend finds favor with the head of the East German police (The Stasi). The head of police decides to bug the playwright's house so he can pursue his girlfriend. They put their best surveillance man on the job (Wiesler). The movie could have become a silly voyeuristic romp. Instead, it takes a profound turn. The man listens into the life of this playwright, and realizes what he is missing in his own life. What he decides to do about it is what the film is about.
Georg's girlfriend is Christa Marie, one of the most popular stage actresses in East Germany. She is played by Martina Gedeck with such soul and sadness that one cannot help but feel her pain as we watch the movie. In the end, the socialists are crushing the creative lives in the country, including hers. She cannot bear it. As Georg plays a piece of music on the piano, he quotes a memorable quote from Lenin. Georg says that Lenin had to stop listening to Beethoven's Appasionata Sonata, because if he continued, the revolution wouldn't happen. Georg finally decides to stray from his loyalty when one of his favorite play directors commits suicide.
There are so many scenes to cherish: As Wiesler listens in on Georg's life, he observes the richness of beauty of his life, as opposed to his subject. While Georg enjoys a life of fulfilling love, Wiesler can only ask a prostitute if she can stay a while longer to keep him company. As Wiesler begins to change, he stops himself from pursuing the name of a child's father who has cast aspersions on the Stasi. The boy is innocent and is only quoting his father, and one can watch Wiesler's eyes as he hears the words of treason from the small boy, and then decides to go in a different direction. And finally, the lengths the people in this film have to pursue to simply have an honest conversation is striking.
The end of the film is sublime. It is so moving and true. I will not reveal it here of course, because it is too great a surprise to do so. For those of us old enough to remember watching the Berlin Wall fall, this film is extra poignant. It wasn't so long ago, but it seems distant. Watching the power of art, freedom and beauty change the heart of a man is a lovely sight. That is why I love this movie.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Krystof Kiewsloski's 3 Colors Trilogy
2011 was a great year for movies for me. I made some wonderful discoveries, and I was able to rethink some old favorites. This film trilogy by Krystof Kiewsloski ended up being the best new discovery I made last year as I began writing this blog. I wrote about them earlier this year, but wanted to revisit them, and also encourage my readers to consider watching them in 2012. The films were originally released in the early 1990's. I had heard about them for years, but had never taken the time to watch them. Now, that I have, I see what all the fuss was about. The three films are entitled "Blue", "White" and "Red" in reference to the three colors in the French flag. Also, each of these films is about one of the three concepts of the French motto (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity). These films taken together are one of those experiences that shows more than most the unique nature of cinema, and why so much can be expressed with a movie camera that simply cannot be expressed any other way.
In "Blue", Juliette Binoche plays Julie, a woman who loses her husband and young daughter in a car accident. Her husband is a famous composer who is writing a symphonic piece to commemorate the unification of Europe. When they die, she attempts to completely separate herself from her past and from any emotional attachments. This proves to become more and more difficult as we get to know her. We come to find out that she is a compassionate person, and that she will not be able to abandon humanity, even those people who have hurt her.
Kiewsloski does some wonderful things here with photography and with soundtrack. This is a total cinematic experience. The production design, the music, the acting, and the writing all feed the theme and tone of the film wonderfully. Take, for example, many of the scenes shot in the swimming pool. The water itself is blue. Also, the pool can symbolize liberty, because a person in it is not bound by gravity in the traditional sense. Julie escapes to the pool because she sees it as a place of liberty. But even there she cannot totally escape. In the end, the film grapples with the nature of liberty. Are we truly at liberty when we have no attachments to others? Or do we find true freedom in serving others? The film does not answer these questions, but allows us to grapple with them.
The second film in the trilogy, "White", goes in a different direction. It is a dark comedy, so many of the scenes of the film have an irony and a harshness that makes you laugh through your tears. The film follows Karol, a Polish immigrant to France whose marriage to Dominque is falling apart. We come to find out that there has been no consummation of the marriage (due to physical inability on his part to consummate), so Dominique is not only leaving him, but she is intent on humiliating him. Karol is left penniless and destitute. The majority of the film is about his attempt to rebuild his life and get equal with Dominique.
Here again, Kiewsloski uses the cinema as his canvas. The color white is everywhere in this movie. After his marriage is dissolved in a courtroom, Karol leaves the courtroom, making his way down the alabaster steps. As the pigeons fly away to avoid him, on of them defecates on him, leaving a white smear on his suit. The frozen landscapes of Poland bring the white theme. And the enduring image of Dominique in her wedding dress is used, as the hope of a marriage awaits Karol and Dominique, and to be a short lived disappointment.
In the end, this film is about getting even, and what that means. The climactic shot of the film has a power to it in showing when Karol has achieved his equality. But since there is more to the movie, the final shot of the film tells us far more about the true nature of the relationship between Karol and Dominique. The foreshadowing of the window shot early in the film shows a longing that Karol has for Dominique, and the final shot shows that same longing, though I will not say anything more about the final shot.
As I came to the third film in the trilogy, I had high expectations. It seemed unlikely that the third movie of the trilogy would equal or surpass the other two movies. What I found was another wonderful movie. I have seldom felt the kind of exhilaration that I felt as I watched the last frames of "Red". Though the 3 films of the 3 Colors Trilogy take place in different places and focus on different characters, it is clear the Kiewsloski is telling if not one story, then at least 3 related stories. What amazed me in watching this film is that even though "Blue" and "White" were so good, this film still went to a different level. Why? I think it is because this movie feels the most hopeful. None of the 3 films end sadly or tragically. In all three films, there is a clear resolution. But what makes this film different is its protagonist.
I once read that when Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote The Idiot, it was his aim to depict a perfectly upright man. In many ways, it feels as though Kiewsloski is doing that with the character of Valentine. She is sensitive, lovely, compassionate and selfless. In a movie with constant red imagery, here Kiewsloski names his character something that evokes the color. One night, Valentine is driving and hits a dog. She locates the dog's owner Joseph, and finds him to be a retired judge. He now spends his days using fancy equipment to spy on the phone conversations of other residents of Geneva. As this relationship plays it self out, another parallel story is playing itself out. A young law student who is on the verge of passing his exams lives on the same block as Valentine. As we find out more about Joseph and is background, we begin to see remarkable parallels between Joseph and the young law student who lives near Valentine. This film concerns itself with the broader implications of brotherly love and caring for mankind. I don't want to give anything away, but there is an identical image in all 3 films which ends differently in "Red", and I think in that scene we see a great deal about what Kiewsloski is trying to say in this film.
All three of these films evoke great excitement for me. Kiewsloski (who passed away in 1996 at age 54) creates 3 films that celebrate what cinema has to offer. He shows through his work that there are certain things that can be communicated through this medium which simply cannot be communicated any other way. The combination of music, story, visual images, clever dialogue and drama that can only come through in cinema is on full display. And yet, the films do not spoon feed the viewer. These movies challenge us with moral ambiguity, but then have the audacity to then challenge us with absolutes as well.
The last images of this film sum up the trilogy well. Here, we have a vast work of imagination that reminds us that we are all connected as humans. What connects us are ideals and our common humanity. But it doesn't end there. It also seems that Kiewsloski leaves us wanting to ask one final question: Where do we go from here?
In "Blue", Juliette Binoche plays Julie, a woman who loses her husband and young daughter in a car accident. Her husband is a famous composer who is writing a symphonic piece to commemorate the unification of Europe. When they die, she attempts to completely separate herself from her past and from any emotional attachments. This proves to become more and more difficult as we get to know her. We come to find out that she is a compassionate person, and that she will not be able to abandon humanity, even those people who have hurt her.
Kiewsloski does some wonderful things here with photography and with soundtrack. This is a total cinematic experience. The production design, the music, the acting, and the writing all feed the theme and tone of the film wonderfully. Take, for example, many of the scenes shot in the swimming pool. The water itself is blue. Also, the pool can symbolize liberty, because a person in it is not bound by gravity in the traditional sense. Julie escapes to the pool because she sees it as a place of liberty. But even there she cannot totally escape. In the end, the film grapples with the nature of liberty. Are we truly at liberty when we have no attachments to others? Or do we find true freedom in serving others? The film does not answer these questions, but allows us to grapple with them.
The second film in the trilogy, "White", goes in a different direction. It is a dark comedy, so many of the scenes of the film have an irony and a harshness that makes you laugh through your tears. The film follows Karol, a Polish immigrant to France whose marriage to Dominque is falling apart. We come to find out that there has been no consummation of the marriage (due to physical inability on his part to consummate), so Dominique is not only leaving him, but she is intent on humiliating him. Karol is left penniless and destitute. The majority of the film is about his attempt to rebuild his life and get equal with Dominique.
Here again, Kiewsloski uses the cinema as his canvas. The color white is everywhere in this movie. After his marriage is dissolved in a courtroom, Karol leaves the courtroom, making his way down the alabaster steps. As the pigeons fly away to avoid him, on of them defecates on him, leaving a white smear on his suit. The frozen landscapes of Poland bring the white theme. And the enduring image of Dominique in her wedding dress is used, as the hope of a marriage awaits Karol and Dominique, and to be a short lived disappointment.
In the end, this film is about getting even, and what that means. The climactic shot of the film has a power to it in showing when Karol has achieved his equality. But since there is more to the movie, the final shot of the film tells us far more about the true nature of the relationship between Karol and Dominique. The foreshadowing of the window shot early in the film shows a longing that Karol has for Dominique, and the final shot shows that same longing, though I will not say anything more about the final shot.
As I came to the third film in the trilogy, I had high expectations. It seemed unlikely that the third movie of the trilogy would equal or surpass the other two movies. What I found was another wonderful movie. I have seldom felt the kind of exhilaration that I felt as I watched the last frames of "Red". Though the 3 films of the 3 Colors Trilogy take place in different places and focus on different characters, it is clear the Kiewsloski is telling if not one story, then at least 3 related stories. What amazed me in watching this film is that even though "Blue" and "White" were so good, this film still went to a different level. Why? I think it is because this movie feels the most hopeful. None of the 3 films end sadly or tragically. In all three films, there is a clear resolution. But what makes this film different is its protagonist.
I once read that when Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote The Idiot, it was his aim to depict a perfectly upright man. In many ways, it feels as though Kiewsloski is doing that with the character of Valentine. She is sensitive, lovely, compassionate and selfless. In a movie with constant red imagery, here Kiewsloski names his character something that evokes the color. One night, Valentine is driving and hits a dog. She locates the dog's owner Joseph, and finds him to be a retired judge. He now spends his days using fancy equipment to spy on the phone conversations of other residents of Geneva. As this relationship plays it self out, another parallel story is playing itself out. A young law student who is on the verge of passing his exams lives on the same block as Valentine. As we find out more about Joseph and is background, we begin to see remarkable parallels between Joseph and the young law student who lives near Valentine. This film concerns itself with the broader implications of brotherly love and caring for mankind. I don't want to give anything away, but there is an identical image in all 3 films which ends differently in "Red", and I think in that scene we see a great deal about what Kiewsloski is trying to say in this film.
All three of these films evoke great excitement for me. Kiewsloski (who passed away in 1996 at age 54) creates 3 films that celebrate what cinema has to offer. He shows through his work that there are certain things that can be communicated through this medium which simply cannot be communicated any other way. The combination of music, story, visual images, clever dialogue and drama that can only come through in cinema is on full display. And yet, the films do not spoon feed the viewer. These movies challenge us with moral ambiguity, but then have the audacity to then challenge us with absolutes as well.
The last images of this film sum up the trilogy well. Here, we have a vast work of imagination that reminds us that we are all connected as humans. What connects us are ideals and our common humanity. But it doesn't end there. It also seems that Kiewsloski leaves us wanting to ask one final question: Where do we go from here?
Monday, November 14, 2011
Into Great Silence
"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper."
---1 Kings 19:11-12
The film maker Philip Groning uses this quote from the history of Israel as bookends to his extraordinary documentary. This is the 52nd entry on this blog. I have covered films from many different genres, and in several different languages. The more I watch movies, the more I become convinced that there are certain artistic statements that can only be made with film. While some feel the written word is the ultimate form of expression (and it is amazing), we must not forget that it is only a medium...it is not art itself. With each type of art (be it painting, music, film etc), there are certain things that can be captured that simply could not be caught any other way.
And so, we turn to this extraordinary work by Philiip Groning. It is so simple, yet so profound. The film maker lived in the Grande Chartreuse monastery in the French Alps for 6 months, and captured the lives of its residents on film. The film has no score, no written dialogue, and no special effects. It simply records the lives of the monks: the sights, sounds, and rituals. As such, the viewer can approach this work from a number of different angles. For the secular viewer, one could watch as the quiet lives of these men are recorded, and marvel at the simplicity of their lives, and the beauty of their surroundings. Groning's camera shows us a vast spectrum of nature. It shows us the majesty of the French alps, the quiet of a brook, the lines in an old man's face, and the meditative world that is the monastery. For the believer, this film can be one of two things. One, it could be a simple act of challenging our devotion to God and how much do we meditate on his work. One of the devices that Groning uses to to intersperse different prayers over a black screen during the film. This dovetails nicely into the second thing this film can be for the believer. The film itself can be an act of mediation on God and on his creation. The viewer can see men, young and old, eating together, worshiping together, living together. We can also see them conversing, walking in the mountains, and even enjoying some sledding on a nearby slope. The film takes a certain discipline to watch, and I think that is why this film can be a meditation in and of itself. As we see the discipline these men have over their lives, we are challenged to sit through it for a mere 2 and a half hours.
Silence and meditation is something which is lacking in my life. This film made me think of ways that I could taste this gift. I once read the great abstract expressionist painter Mark Rothko explain his paintings as webs of meditation. This film acts this way. It not only documents its subjects, but it allows us to come close to actually living along side them and practice along with them. The patience and commitment that it took to make this film is noteworthy. The hours and days it must have took in order to simply catch a second of magnificent beauty is noteworthy. If possible, it seems that the way to best experience this film would be in a movie theater. Only there would the viewer truly be able to be immersed in this world with all its sights, sounds and experiences. I was able to get a copy from my local library, and I watched most of it while jogging on my treadmill. It was a good way to experience the film since it takes a certain discipline for me to get on the treadmill.
This is a profound work. I love what it says about its subjects. It gives us a very honorable picture of these men who have devoted their lives to prayer and meditation. But this film also says a lot about film. It shows us another angle about what movies are, and the possibilities that lie within the art of cinema.
---1 Kings 19:11-12
The film maker Philip Groning uses this quote from the history of Israel as bookends to his extraordinary documentary. This is the 52nd entry on this blog. I have covered films from many different genres, and in several different languages. The more I watch movies, the more I become convinced that there are certain artistic statements that can only be made with film. While some feel the written word is the ultimate form of expression (and it is amazing), we must not forget that it is only a medium...it is not art itself. With each type of art (be it painting, music, film etc), there are certain things that can be captured that simply could not be caught any other way.
And so, we turn to this extraordinary work by Philiip Groning. It is so simple, yet so profound. The film maker lived in the Grande Chartreuse monastery in the French Alps for 6 months, and captured the lives of its residents on film. The film has no score, no written dialogue, and no special effects. It simply records the lives of the monks: the sights, sounds, and rituals. As such, the viewer can approach this work from a number of different angles. For the secular viewer, one could watch as the quiet lives of these men are recorded, and marvel at the simplicity of their lives, and the beauty of their surroundings. Groning's camera shows us a vast spectrum of nature. It shows us the majesty of the French alps, the quiet of a brook, the lines in an old man's face, and the meditative world that is the monastery. For the believer, this film can be one of two things. One, it could be a simple act of challenging our devotion to God and how much do we meditate on his work. One of the devices that Groning uses to to intersperse different prayers over a black screen during the film. This dovetails nicely into the second thing this film can be for the believer. The film itself can be an act of mediation on God and on his creation. The viewer can see men, young and old, eating together, worshiping together, living together. We can also see them conversing, walking in the mountains, and even enjoying some sledding on a nearby slope. The film takes a certain discipline to watch, and I think that is why this film can be a meditation in and of itself. As we see the discipline these men have over their lives, we are challenged to sit through it for a mere 2 and a half hours.
Silence and meditation is something which is lacking in my life. This film made me think of ways that I could taste this gift. I once read the great abstract expressionist painter Mark Rothko explain his paintings as webs of meditation. This film acts this way. It not only documents its subjects, but it allows us to come close to actually living along side them and practice along with them. The patience and commitment that it took to make this film is noteworthy. The hours and days it must have took in order to simply catch a second of magnificent beauty is noteworthy. If possible, it seems that the way to best experience this film would be in a movie theater. Only there would the viewer truly be able to be immersed in this world with all its sights, sounds and experiences. I was able to get a copy from my local library, and I watched most of it while jogging on my treadmill. It was a good way to experience the film since it takes a certain discipline for me to get on the treadmill.
This is a profound work. I love what it says about its subjects. It gives us a very honorable picture of these men who have devoted their lives to prayer and meditation. But this film also says a lot about film. It shows us another angle about what movies are, and the possibilities that lie within the art of cinema.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Kiewsloski's Three Colors Trilogy: Red
I have seldom felt the kind of exhilaration that I felt as I watched the last frames of "Red". Since this is the last film of a trilogy, I felt that I had been swept away into a totally different place. Though the 3 films of the 3 Colors Trilogy take place in different places and focus on different characters, it is clear that Kiewsloski is telling 3 related stories. What amazed me in watching this film is that even though "Blue" and "White" were so good, this film still went to a different level. Why? I think it is because this movie feels the most hopeful. None of the 3 films end sadly or tragically. In all three films, there is a clear resolution. But what makes this film different is its protagonist.
I once read that when Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote "The Idiot", it was his aim to depict a perfectly upright man. In many ways, it feels as though Kiewsloski is doing that with the character of Valentine. She is sensitive, lovely, compassionate and selfless. In a movie with constant red imagery, here Kiewsloski names his character something that evokes the color. One night, Valentine is driving and hits a dog. She locates the dog's owner Joseph, and finds him to be a retired judge. He now spends his days using fancy equipment to spy on the phone conversations of other residents of Geneva. As this relationship plays it self out, another parallel story is playing itself out. A young law student who is on the verge of passing his exams lives on the same block as Valentine. As we find out more about Joseph and is background, we begin to see remarkable parallels between Joseph and the young law student who lives near Valentine. Since the three films have depicted the three values of France (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity), this film concerns itself with the broader implications of brotherly love and caring for mankind. I don't want to give anything away, but there is an identical image in all 3 films which ends differently in "Red", and I think in that scene we see a great deal about what Kiewsloski is trying to say in this film.
All three of these films evoke great excitement for me. Kiewsloski (who passed away in 1996 at age 54) creates 3 films that celebrate what cinema has to offer. In my years of watching movies, I don't know if I have ever watched movies that are so purely cinematic as his films. He seems to show through his work that there are certain things that can be communicated through this medium which simply cannot be communicated any other way. The combination of music, story, visual images, clever dialogue and drama that can only come through in cinema is on full display. And yet, the films do not spoon feed the viewer. These movies challenge us with moral ambiguity, but then have the audacity to then challenge us with absolutes as well.
The last images of this film sum up the trilogy well. Here, we have a vast work of imagination that reminds us that we are all connected as humans. What connects us are ideals and our common humanity. But it doesn't end there. It also seems that Kiewsloski leaves us wanting to ask one final question: Where do we go from here?
I once read that when Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote "The Idiot", it was his aim to depict a perfectly upright man. In many ways, it feels as though Kiewsloski is doing that with the character of Valentine. She is sensitive, lovely, compassionate and selfless. In a movie with constant red imagery, here Kiewsloski names his character something that evokes the color. One night, Valentine is driving and hits a dog. She locates the dog's owner Joseph, and finds him to be a retired judge. He now spends his days using fancy equipment to spy on the phone conversations of other residents of Geneva. As this relationship plays it self out, another parallel story is playing itself out. A young law student who is on the verge of passing his exams lives on the same block as Valentine. As we find out more about Joseph and is background, we begin to see remarkable parallels between Joseph and the young law student who lives near Valentine. Since the three films have depicted the three values of France (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity), this film concerns itself with the broader implications of brotherly love and caring for mankind. I don't want to give anything away, but there is an identical image in all 3 films which ends differently in "Red", and I think in that scene we see a great deal about what Kiewsloski is trying to say in this film.
All three of these films evoke great excitement for me. Kiewsloski (who passed away in 1996 at age 54) creates 3 films that celebrate what cinema has to offer. In my years of watching movies, I don't know if I have ever watched movies that are so purely cinematic as his films. He seems to show through his work that there are certain things that can be communicated through this medium which simply cannot be communicated any other way. The combination of music, story, visual images, clever dialogue and drama that can only come through in cinema is on full display. And yet, the films do not spoon feed the viewer. These movies challenge us with moral ambiguity, but then have the audacity to then challenge us with absolutes as well.
The last images of this film sum up the trilogy well. Here, we have a vast work of imagination that reminds us that we are all connected as humans. What connects us are ideals and our common humanity. But it doesn't end there. It also seems that Kiewsloski leaves us wanting to ask one final question: Where do we go from here?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Three Colors Triolgy: White
This movie is amazing. I already wrote about "Blue", the first entry in Kiewsloski's Three Colors Trilogy. That film dealt with the concept of liberty. This film deals with the concept of equality, and it is a hoot.
It is a dark comedy, so many of the scenes of the film have an irony and a harshness that makes you laugh through your tears. The film follows Karol, a Polish immigrant to France whose marriage to Dominque is falling apart. We come to find out that there has been no consummation of the marriage (due to physical inability on his part to consummate), so Dominique is not only leaving him, but she is intent on humiliating him. Karol is left penniless and destitute. The majority of the film is about his attempt to rebuild his life and get equal with Dominique.
Here again, Kiewsloski uses the cinema as his canvas. The color white is everywhere in this movie. After his marriage is dissolved in a courtroom, Karol leaves the courtroom, making his way down the alabaster steps. As the pigeons fly away to avoid him, on of them defecates on him, leaving a white smear on his suit. The frozen landscapes of Poland bring the white theme. And the enduring image of Dominique in her wedding dress is used, as the hope of a marriage awaits Karol and Dominique, only to be a short lived disappointment.
In the end, the film is about getting even, and what that means. The climactic shot of the film has a power to it in showing when Karol has achieved his equality. But since there is more to the movie, the final shot of the film tells us far more about the true nature of the relationship between Karol and Dominique. The foreshadowing of the window shot early in the film shows a longing that Karol has for Dominique, and the final shot shows that same longing, though I will not say anything more about the final shot.
Kiewsloski's world is exciting and different. His films are a revelation to me. As I write this, I only have one more film of the Three Colors Trilogy left to watch, but I anticipate it greatly.
It is a dark comedy, so many of the scenes of the film have an irony and a harshness that makes you laugh through your tears. The film follows Karol, a Polish immigrant to France whose marriage to Dominque is falling apart. We come to find out that there has been no consummation of the marriage (due to physical inability on his part to consummate), so Dominique is not only leaving him, but she is intent on humiliating him. Karol is left penniless and destitute. The majority of the film is about his attempt to rebuild his life and get equal with Dominique.
Here again, Kiewsloski uses the cinema as his canvas. The color white is everywhere in this movie. After his marriage is dissolved in a courtroom, Karol leaves the courtroom, making his way down the alabaster steps. As the pigeons fly away to avoid him, on of them defecates on him, leaving a white smear on his suit. The frozen landscapes of Poland bring the white theme. And the enduring image of Dominique in her wedding dress is used, as the hope of a marriage awaits Karol and Dominique, only to be a short lived disappointment.
In the end, the film is about getting even, and what that means. The climactic shot of the film has a power to it in showing when Karol has achieved his equality. But since there is more to the movie, the final shot of the film tells us far more about the true nature of the relationship between Karol and Dominique. The foreshadowing of the window shot early in the film shows a longing that Karol has for Dominique, and the final shot shows that same longing, though I will not say anything more about the final shot.
Kiewsloski's world is exciting and different. His films are a revelation to me. As I write this, I only have one more film of the Three Colors Trilogy left to watch, but I anticipate it greatly.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Kiewsloski's Three Color Trilogy: Blue
Having finished Kiewsloski's Decalogue, I turned my attention to his penultimate work, the Three Colors Trilogy. The three films are entitled Blue, White and Red in reference to the three colors in the French flag. Also, each of these films is about one of the three concepts of the French motto (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity). This film is one of those experiences that shows more than most the unique nature of cinema, and why so much can be expressed with a movie camera that simply cannot be expressed any other way.
Juliette Binoche plays Julie, a woman who loses her husband and young daughter in a car accident. Her husband is a famous composer who is writing a symphonic piece to commemorate the unification of Europe. When they die, she attempts to completely separate herself from her past and from any emotional attachments. This proves to become more and more difficult as we get to know her. We come to find out that she is a compassionate person, and that she will not be able to abandon humanity, even those people who have hurt her.
Kiewsloski does some wonderful things here with photography and with soundtrack. This is a total cinematic experience. The production design, the music, the acting, and the writing all feed the theme and tone of the film wonderfully. Take, for example, many of the scenes shot in the swimming pool. The water itself is blue. Also, the pool can symbolize liberty, because a person in it is not bound by gravity in the traditional sense. Julie escapes to the pool because she sees it as a place of liberty. But even there she cannot totally escape. In the end, the film grapples with the nature of liberty. Are we truly at liberty when we have no attachments to others? Or do we find true freedom in serving others? The film does not answer these questions, but allows us to grapple with them.
There are also scenes that are simply a pleasure to look at, or scenes that give us oddities that we can contemplate. I am thrilled that I have discovered Kiewsloski's work. I love finding a new world to explore, and his films are giving me that.
Juliette Binoche plays Julie, a woman who loses her husband and young daughter in a car accident. Her husband is a famous composer who is writing a symphonic piece to commemorate the unification of Europe. When they die, she attempts to completely separate herself from her past and from any emotional attachments. This proves to become more and more difficult as we get to know her. We come to find out that she is a compassionate person, and that she will not be able to abandon humanity, even those people who have hurt her.
Kiewsloski does some wonderful things here with photography and with soundtrack. This is a total cinematic experience. The production design, the music, the acting, and the writing all feed the theme and tone of the film wonderfully. Take, for example, many of the scenes shot in the swimming pool. The water itself is blue. Also, the pool can symbolize liberty, because a person in it is not bound by gravity in the traditional sense. Julie escapes to the pool because she sees it as a place of liberty. But even there she cannot totally escape. In the end, the film grapples with the nature of liberty. Are we truly at liberty when we have no attachments to others? Or do we find true freedom in serving others? The film does not answer these questions, but allows us to grapple with them.
There are also scenes that are simply a pleasure to look at, or scenes that give us oddities that we can contemplate. I am thrilled that I have discovered Kiewsloski's work. I love finding a new world to explore, and his films are giving me that.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The Decalogue
"And God spoke all these words, saying..." Exodus 20:1.
It may come as something of a surprise to many people that the Hebrew Bible does not mention that God gave 10 commandments. Instead, the author of the Pentateuch notes that at a vital moment in the history of Israel, God spoke words, not commandments, to the infant nation. In Greek, the word Decalogue, most literally translated, means "ten words". It is from this word that Krysztof Kieslowski takes the title of his amazing, visionary film. It is a ten part film (each part being a little less than an hour), and each part tells an amazing story which relates to each of the 10 words. Lately, I have been consumed by the world of this brilliant filmmaker, so this blog may be dominated by his work for the next few entries. Bear with me, and think about checking out some of this man's work.
"The Decalogue" is not an instructional series, nor is it heavy handed moralism. Instead, it deals openly and honestly with some very difficult ethical dilemmas that relate to the moral underpinnings of the 10 words (what we call commandments). Take, for example, Decalogue 5. The fifth commandment is "You shall not murder." Here, Kieslowski gives us a horrible character who commits needless and cold blooded murder. But what Kieslowski does is make it a meditation on capital punishment. For anyone who has ever seen "Dead Man Walking", it seems as though Tim Robbins almost borrowed his story from this story. Whatever one thinks of Kieslowski's conclusions regarding capital punishment isn't the point. The point is that he is grappling with the serious issues that these important ethical benchmarks bring to our lives.
This is also the case on Decalogue 8. Here, Kieslowski brings a new view to the classic moral dilemma of whether or not you lie to the Germans during WW2 in order to save the life (or lives) of another (or others). Here, the person with the moral dilemma initially looks like a coward. The Jewish woman who has come to judge her learns that the situation was more complex than she realized.
Decalogue 2 is also riveting. It tells the story of a woman who discovers she is pregnant by her lover. Her husband has been unable to have children, so any pregnancy would prove her infidelity. The woman seeks the help of her husband's doctor to get a prognosis on her husband. If her husband lives, she plans to have an abortion. If he dies, she will have the child, since she has not had a chance to have children, and she wants a child. This would make for an absorbing story on its own, but the doctor has his own moral dilemma given the information he has. What he does and why he does it make for an amazing pay off.
Decalogue 1 is equal parts engrossing and heartbreaking. It challenges the idea of materialism and what we make of a world that is simply a material place that is subject to physical laws. Is everything really that predictable? Decalogue 1 tells a story in which a man who believes in the ultimate power of reason ends up having to put his belief to the ultimate test.
One thing that does appear connect these 10 films is the color red. I don't know that all 10 films have that striking color. However, since the drabness of Communist housing is the setting for these films, the color red stands out in these films, and it seems intentional to me. Could Kiewsloski be making a comment on the blood of Christ somehow affecting or covering the law as the people fail to keep it? I don't know, but I have a hunch that Kiewsloski would be open to that question.
It is difficult to write about one part without writing about all 10. All 10 parts are riveting. They each tell dramatic stories, and each are them are finely acted and realized. To make one of these films would have been an achievement, but to make 10 is truly remarkable. So many moral dilemmas are shown: abortion, voyeurism, fornication, adultery, capital punishment, greed, kidnapping, broken promises and lack of trust. These issues are all dealt with well, even when the position taken may not be one the viewer agrees with. It is a fine line to walk between belief in moral absolutes and realizing that absolute principles usually cannot be applied absolutely. If we absolutely say it is never ever right to lie, things are relatively simple. If we allow for the fact that some things are worth lying for, we realize that there are greater principles involved. The question that all of these films asks then becomes, how are these 10 commandments applied? My belief is that the answer lies in the heart...what motivations do we have and why are we doing what we are doing?
(It is worth noting at the outset that this series seems like a big time commitment, and it is. But, if that is a concern, be sure to note that each of these ten one hour films can stand on their own-one needn't watch all ten to appreciate one part.)
It may come as something of a surprise to many people that the Hebrew Bible does not mention that God gave 10 commandments. Instead, the author of the Pentateuch notes that at a vital moment in the history of Israel, God spoke words, not commandments, to the infant nation. In Greek, the word Decalogue, most literally translated, means "ten words". It is from this word that Krysztof Kieslowski takes the title of his amazing, visionary film. It is a ten part film (each part being a little less than an hour), and each part tells an amazing story which relates to each of the 10 words. Lately, I have been consumed by the world of this brilliant filmmaker, so this blog may be dominated by his work for the next few entries. Bear with me, and think about checking out some of this man's work.
"The Decalogue" is not an instructional series, nor is it heavy handed moralism. Instead, it deals openly and honestly with some very difficult ethical dilemmas that relate to the moral underpinnings of the 10 words (what we call commandments). Take, for example, Decalogue 5. The fifth commandment is "You shall not murder." Here, Kieslowski gives us a horrible character who commits needless and cold blooded murder. But what Kieslowski does is make it a meditation on capital punishment. For anyone who has ever seen "Dead Man Walking", it seems as though Tim Robbins almost borrowed his story from this story. Whatever one thinks of Kieslowski's conclusions regarding capital punishment isn't the point. The point is that he is grappling with the serious issues that these important ethical benchmarks bring to our lives.
This is also the case on Decalogue 8. Here, Kieslowski brings a new view to the classic moral dilemma of whether or not you lie to the Germans during WW2 in order to save the life (or lives) of another (or others). Here, the person with the moral dilemma initially looks like a coward. The Jewish woman who has come to judge her learns that the situation was more complex than she realized.
Decalogue 2 is also riveting. It tells the story of a woman who discovers she is pregnant by her lover. Her husband has been unable to have children, so any pregnancy would prove her infidelity. The woman seeks the help of her husband's doctor to get a prognosis on her husband. If her husband lives, she plans to have an abortion. If he dies, she will have the child, since she has not had a chance to have children, and she wants a child. This would make for an absorbing story on its own, but the doctor has his own moral dilemma given the information he has. What he does and why he does it make for an amazing pay off.
Decalogue 1 is equal parts engrossing and heartbreaking. It challenges the idea of materialism and what we make of a world that is simply a material place that is subject to physical laws. Is everything really that predictable? Decalogue 1 tells a story in which a man who believes in the ultimate power of reason ends up having to put his belief to the ultimate test.
One thing that does appear connect these 10 films is the color red. I don't know that all 10 films have that striking color. However, since the drabness of Communist housing is the setting for these films, the color red stands out in these films, and it seems intentional to me. Could Kiewsloski be making a comment on the blood of Christ somehow affecting or covering the law as the people fail to keep it? I don't know, but I have a hunch that Kiewsloski would be open to that question.
It is difficult to write about one part without writing about all 10. All 10 parts are riveting. They each tell dramatic stories, and each are them are finely acted and realized. To make one of these films would have been an achievement, but to make 10 is truly remarkable. So many moral dilemmas are shown: abortion, voyeurism, fornication, adultery, capital punishment, greed, kidnapping, broken promises and lack of trust. These issues are all dealt with well, even when the position taken may not be one the viewer agrees with. It is a fine line to walk between belief in moral absolutes and realizing that absolute principles usually cannot be applied absolutely. If we absolutely say it is never ever right to lie, things are relatively simple. If we allow for the fact that some things are worth lying for, we realize that there are greater principles involved. The question that all of these films asks then becomes, how are these 10 commandments applied? My belief is that the answer lies in the heart...what motivations do we have and why are we doing what we are doing?
(It is worth noting at the outset that this series seems like a big time commitment, and it is. But, if that is a concern, be sure to note that each of these ten one hour films can stand on their own-one needn't watch all ten to appreciate one part.)
Friday, April 8, 2011
The Lives of Others
The Lives of Others
I could not think of a better title to borrow for the name of my blog than the title of this 2006 film from Germany. The reason for that is that it is the best movie I have seen in the last ten years. I do not make it a practice to speak in absolutes when it comes to the arts...what I mean when I say best is that it has been my favorite film-it has meant more to me than any other film of which I can think. It won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film, and it is easy to see why it had such a powerful effect.
To sum it up, the film is set in East Germany in 1984. A loyal Socialist playwright (Georg) has begun to question some of the elements of the East German regime. At the same time, his girlfriend finds favor with the head of the East German police (The Stasi). The head of police decides to bug the playwright's house so he can pursue his girlfriend. They put their best surveillance man on the job (Wiesler). The movie could have become a silly voyeuristic romp. Instead, it takes a profound turn. The man listens into the life of this playwright, and realizes what he is missing in his own life. What he decides to do about it is what the film is about.
Georg's girlfriend is Christa Marie, one of the most popular stage actresses in East Germany. She is played by Martina Gedeck with such soul and sadness that one cannot help but feel her pain as we watch the movie. In the end, the socialists are crushing the creative lives in the country, including hers. She cannot bear it. As Georg plays a piece of music on the piano, he quotes a memorable quote from Lenin. Georg says that Lenin had to stop listening to Beethoven's Appasionata Sonata, because if he continued, the revolution wouldn't happen. Georg finally decides to stray from his loyalty when one of his favorite play directors commits suicide.
There are so many scenes to cherish: As Wiesler listens in on Georg's life, he observes the richness of beauty of his life, as opposed to his subject. While Georg enjoys a life of fulfilling love, Wiesler can only ask a prostitute if she can stay a while longer to keep him company. As Wiesler begins to change, he stops himself from pursuing the name of a child's father who has cast aspersions on the Stasi. The boy is innocent and is only quoting his father, and one can watch Wiesler's eyes as he hears the words of treason from the small boy, and then decides to go in a different direction. And finally, the lengths the people in this film have to pursue to simply have an honest conversation is striking.
The end of the film is sublime. It is so moving and true. I will not reveal it here of course, because it is too great a surprise to do so. For those of us old enough to remember watching the Berlin Wall fall, this film is extra poignant. It wasn't so long ago, but it seems distant. Watching the power of art, freedom and beauty change the heart of a man is a lovely sight. That is why I love this movie.
I could not think of a better title to borrow for the name of my blog than the title of this 2006 film from Germany. The reason for that is that it is the best movie I have seen in the last ten years. I do not make it a practice to speak in absolutes when it comes to the arts...what I mean when I say best is that it has been my favorite film-it has meant more to me than any other film of which I can think. It won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film, and it is easy to see why it had such a powerful effect.
To sum it up, the film is set in East Germany in 1984. A loyal Socialist playwright (Georg) has begun to question some of the elements of the East German regime. At the same time, his girlfriend finds favor with the head of the East German police (The Stasi). The head of police decides to bug the playwright's house so he can pursue his girlfriend. They put their best surveillance man on the job (Wiesler). The movie could have become a silly voyeuristic romp. Instead, it takes a profound turn. The man listens into the life of this playwright, and realizes what he is missing in his own life. What he decides to do about it is what the film is about.
Georg's girlfriend is Christa Marie, one of the most popular stage actresses in East Germany. She is played by Martina Gedeck with such soul and sadness that one cannot help but feel her pain as we watch the movie. In the end, the socialists are crushing the creative lives in the country, including hers. She cannot bear it. As Georg plays a piece of music on the piano, he quotes a memorable quote from Lenin. Georg says that Lenin had to stop listening to Beethoven's Appasionata Sonata, because if he continued, the revolution wouldn't happen. Georg finally decides to stray from his loyalty when one of his favorite play directors commits suicide.
There are so many scenes to cherish: As Wiesler listens in on Georg's life, he observes the richness of beauty of his life, as opposed to his subject. While Georg enjoys a life of fulfilling love, Wiesler can only ask a prostitute if she can stay a while longer to keep him company. As Wiesler begins to change, he stops himself from pursuing the name of a child's father who has cast aspersions on the Stasi. The boy is innocent and is only quoting his father, and one can watch Wiesler's eyes as he hears the words of treason from the small boy, and then decides to go in a different direction. And finally, the lengths the people in this film have to pursue to simply have an honest conversation is striking.
The end of the film is sublime. It is so moving and true. I will not reveal it here of course, because it is too great a surprise to do so. For those of us old enough to remember watching the Berlin Wall fall, this film is extra poignant. It wasn't so long ago, but it seems distant. Watching the power of art, freedom and beauty change the heart of a man is a lovely sight. That is why I love this movie.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Life Is Beautiful
There is so much to say, but I must be succinct. One of my aims on this blog is not only to talk about movies, but also to talk about my experience of them. This movie will always be linked to dating my wife and realizing over time that I had found the person with whom I wanted to spend my life.
In the fall of 1998, I heard about an Italian movie that had been released here in the US. It was billed as a Holocaust comedy. That sounded odd to me. So, Stephanie and I made the drive to West LA (it was only in very limited release at that point) to see this movie. Fittingly, we had just enjoyed a wonderful Italian meal that night and we made our way to the Cecchi Gori art house.
The movie was mesmerizing. I had never felt such a range of emotions before. The film opens with one of the funniest scenes I have ever seen, and closes with tragedy and hope. The film follows Guido (Roberto Benigni, in the role that won him an Oscar), an Italian Jewish man who is watching the Anti-Semitic Nazis' powers rising. In the midst of this, he falls in love with his wife and has a son. As the inevitable happens and the family is taken to the concentration camp, the father devises a way to shield his young son from the horrors around him. Along the way, we come face to face with uproarious comedy and heart breaking cruelty. The film's end is only possible in movies, but the movie is only so powerful because it reflects on horrors that actually took place.
The movie is really divided neatly into halves. The first half is a hilarious and sweet romantic comedy, as Guido wins the heart of his princess. The second half follows the tragic reality of the institutionalized racism of the Nazi regime. Benigni's performance is amazing. He calls to mind great silent comedians like Chaplin and Keaton with this work, but has a sort of scheming and conniving that reminds me of Bugs Bunny. He is able to weave his way through this story (as he also directed the movie) and effortlessly move into the dramatic scenes in which a father is forced to deal with absolute horror.
Benigni's Oscar speeches have become legendary, and rightfully so. But they sort of distract from the simple brilliance of the performance and his direction. This is a story that could have gone astray so easily. Yet somehow, Benigni finds a way to walk the line between comedy and tragedy.
The movie ended. Stephanie and I (while still getting to know each other) look at each other with tears in our eyes. We had seen something special, and the cool thing was, no one else had seen it yet! We felt like we were in on something special. The movie went on to accolades, and Stephanie and I have been married for 11 wonderful years. The themes of this movie have stuck with us, and the strains of its lovely score still transport me back to that very specific time in my life.
In the fall of 1998, I heard about an Italian movie that had been released here in the US. It was billed as a Holocaust comedy. That sounded odd to me. So, Stephanie and I made the drive to West LA (it was only in very limited release at that point) to see this movie. Fittingly, we had just enjoyed a wonderful Italian meal that night and we made our way to the Cecchi Gori art house.
The movie was mesmerizing. I had never felt such a range of emotions before. The film opens with one of the funniest scenes I have ever seen, and closes with tragedy and hope. The film follows Guido (Roberto Benigni, in the role that won him an Oscar), an Italian Jewish man who is watching the Anti-Semitic Nazis' powers rising. In the midst of this, he falls in love with his wife and has a son. As the inevitable happens and the family is taken to the concentration camp, the father devises a way to shield his young son from the horrors around him. Along the way, we come face to face with uproarious comedy and heart breaking cruelty. The film's end is only possible in movies, but the movie is only so powerful because it reflects on horrors that actually took place.
The movie is really divided neatly into halves. The first half is a hilarious and sweet romantic comedy, as Guido wins the heart of his princess. The second half follows the tragic reality of the institutionalized racism of the Nazi regime. Benigni's performance is amazing. He calls to mind great silent comedians like Chaplin and Keaton with this work, but has a sort of scheming and conniving that reminds me of Bugs Bunny. He is able to weave his way through this story (as he also directed the movie) and effortlessly move into the dramatic scenes in which a father is forced to deal with absolute horror.
Benigni's Oscar speeches have become legendary, and rightfully so. But they sort of distract from the simple brilliance of the performance and his direction. This is a story that could have gone astray so easily. Yet somehow, Benigni finds a way to walk the line between comedy and tragedy.
The movie ended. Stephanie and I (while still getting to know each other) look at each other with tears in our eyes. We had seen something special, and the cool thing was, no one else had seen it yet! We felt like we were in on something special. The movie went on to accolades, and Stephanie and I have been married for 11 wonderful years. The themes of this movie have stuck with us, and the strains of its lovely score still transport me back to that very specific time in my life.
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