Harry here, and on the seventh day Elaine rested... ...well, actually, I just lost her report and am putting it up a day late, most likely what it was was that I was so mind boggled by actually liking a new Arnold film that my brain didn't even acknowldge the report due to... well the obvious brain damage that I must have suffered. On the seventh day of the Rotterdam International Film festival she saw 5 films ranging from good to brilliant. THAT'S A QUALITY DAY OF FILM!!! Take note, write these names down and if you see them in a festival or theater or video store near you... see them, and if you don't like em... Well blame Elaine, she assumes all guilt, but from the sound of these... there ain't gonna be much blame lest your brain is disengaged. Here ya go.....
DAY 7
Day 7 of this year's festival ranks amongst the best I have had in Rotterdam. It was one of those rare occasions on which every film I saw (and I saw five) was either good or brilliant, even the ones of which I expected little. If only every festival day could be like this...
Of the five films I'm reviewing below, two ("Va
savoir" and "Fat Girl") have already had a fairly wide
international release. I am nevertheless including
reviews of these films for those who might consider
catching them on DVD or in some backwater cinema that
doesn't get films until they have been everywhere
else. As for the other films, "Martha... Martha" seems
to have been picked up for international distribution,
while the two other films will hopefully enjoy a long
and successful run in the festival circuit.
FAT GIRL (Catherine Breillat, 2001)
Catherine Breillat's latest feature film (she has since then also made a TV film which I will review tomorrow) opens with the question whether it is better to lose your virginity to someone you love or to someone you don't care about. The answer appears to be that it is better not to lose your virginity at all, but before the film reaches that conclusion, its has shown two fairly shocking deflorations.
"Fat Girl" ("A ma soeur" or "To my sister" in French) is about two teenage sisters and their attitudes towards sex. Pretty Elena, 15, wishes to be deflowered by the man she loves, while fat Anais, 13, believes it is better to lose one's virginity to someone one doesn't care about, so as to be experienced by the time one finally meets the lover of one's dreams. When the two meet an Italian student who is looking for some quick sex, Elena is seduced before Anais' very eyes. Towards the end of the film, Anais loses her virginity herself, in a way which appears to please her but which will leave viewers gasping for breath.
As usual with Breillat, the sex in "Fat Girl" is very much about power. Although the film has a voyeuristic feeling, it is first and foremost a study in the politics of sex, in which characters manipulate each other in a fairly alarming way. Although the sex is less explicit here than in Breillat's previous film, the scene in which Fernando seduces Elena (described by Breillat as "a mental rape in which Elena is an accomplice") is more profoundly shocking than anything in "Romance." It sets the tone for the surprising ending, which might be interpreted as a fantasy or wishful thinking on Anais' part but which appears to have to be taken literally.
It is not all about sex, though. A major part of the the film is taken up by sibling rivalry, which, like sex, is revealed to be a struggle for power. Although Breillat occasionally allows her lead actresses to show some tenderness for each other (culminating in a touching scene in which the two giggle their way through childhood reminiscences), she seems more at ease demonstrating the manipulation inherent in their relationship. Through a series of exquisite dialogues, she illustrates that although the girls love each other dearly, they know exactly how to exploit the other's weak points, thus shamelessly manipulating each other for their own ends. Despite their differences, they are proven to be mutually dependent on each other, which makes their love-hate relationship a very interesting one.
There is some brilliant acting on show here. Roxane
Mesquida is excellent as the seemingly sluttish but
really rather romantic Elena, while Libero de Rienzo
is downright alarming as her sweet-talking seducer.
The real find, however, is Anais Reboux, who is
sensational as the overlooked but sensual younger
sister who eventually receives the attention she
craves. The ending to her story is abrupt, and many
people will find it objectionable, but that does not
alter the fact that "Fat Girl" is a tour de force
which should be made compulsory viewing for both
adults and adolescents.
DE LA CALLE (Gerardo Tort, 2001)
To me, this was one of the surprises of the festival. I went in expecting a shallow drama about Mexican street kids wasting their lives; what I got was a variation on the opening act of "Amores perros," with power and poignancy and plenty of touching moments thrown in for good measure. Talk about a pleasant surprise.
Now I'm not making the comparison with "Amores perros" just because the film is set in Mexico City. Apart from this being a story about "brothers" who love the same woman, not to mention brothers who end up viciously betraying each other ("back-stabbing" is an appropriate word here), there are also many technical similarities. "De la calle" has the same light that made "Amores perros" so special, not to mention many of the same colours (red and brown). It also has a similar soundtrack, similar sound-editing and a bum who turns out to be a bit of a prophet. Yet somehow, it doesn't feel derivative. It is a film in its own right, shot before "Amores perros" became an arthouse hit, and it has plenty to offer to whoever sits out its messy opening.
"De la calle" (called "Streeters" in English) is the story of Rufino, an adolescent who lives in the sewers of Mexico City, and his girlfriend Xochitl, who has left her baby (not Rufino's child) in the care of her mother. Rufino and Xochitl are idealistically "looking for something else," and in order to get there, Rufino makes off with the yield of a drug deal of his mother's nasty boyfriend. Naturally, the boyfriend wants his money back, and in the hunt that follows, several people die, while others get severely hurt.
The film could be described as a study in belonging. Not only does it demonstrate the strength the kids derive from belonging to a group and the need Rufino and Xochitl feel to be together in a place of their own, but it also charts Rufino's need for a father, as well as Xochitl's urge to be with her baby (as opposed to the children in the sewers, for whom she is some kind of surrogate mother) when things go horribly wrong. In the most harrowing scene of the film, which follows one in which she is brutally raped, Xochitl pleads with her mother to let her see her child, only to be turned away. It is not clear which hurts her most, the rape or the fact that she cannot derive comfort from holding her baby, but one suspects it is the latter.
"De la calle" has many strong points, most of which have to do with the mood of the film. The oppressive atmosphere of the meeting place down the sewers (where kids sniff glue but never forget to pray to the Virgin) is well drawn, as is the a looming sense of dread in the second half of the film, which is characterised by some exquisitely timed silences. There is also a great sense of adventure in Rufino's rooftop walks, not to mention a lot of religious imagery which does not always seem appropriate but does lend an intriguing flavour to the whole thing. If the script, by constrast, seems trite and underdeveloped, it does pack in a surprising number of emotional punches - aided, of course, by the wonderfully drawn atmosphere and the music.
"De la calle" definitely is not the most original
Mexican film you will see, nor indeed the most
compelling (that honour, in my admittedly inexpert
view, goes to "Amores perros"), but it certainly is an
impressive ride.
VA SAVOIR (Jacques Rivette, 2001)
I confess I had misgivings about this one. The opening (in which a troupe of actors rehearses a Pirandello play in that typically overblown Italian style I hate so much) had me fearing the worst, and when the main character started to talk to herself, neurotically commenting on her every thought, fear and action, I considered an early walk-out. I'm glad I stayed, though, for the rest of the film not only made up for the annoying beginning, but proved one of the comic highlights of the festival to boot.
"Va savoir" (released in English-speaking countries as "Go Figure" or "Who Knows?") is about six people with (guess what?) relationship problems. The central character, Camille, is an actress who, after a three-year stay in Italy, returns to Paris to stage a play and to look up her ex, a professor of philosophy called Pierre. As it happens, Pierre has married a ballet teacher called Sonia, but that does not prevent Camille's current lover, troupe leader Ugo, from feeling threatened by Pierre. To take his worries off Camille, Ugo goes off on a search for an old manuscript which is supposed to be somewhere in Paris. He is aided by a beautiful student called Dominique, who falls in love with him but also has an unusually intimate relationship with her half-brother Arthur, who in his turn pursuits Sonia. Naturally, these characters all meet in the end, when problems are solved and people pair off as one would expect.
The film has much going for it. From the effortless way in which the characters are introduced to the brilliant set-up for the grande finale, the tragi-comedy oozes the sort of professionalism that only a veteran like Rivette could command. It also has superb dialogues (particularly in the second half) and a hilarious performance by Sergio Castellito, whose jealous Italian lover is a creation of genius. Finally, the play-within-the-film (which looks quite dreadful in itself) neatly echoes and foreshadows the goings-on in the film, although the extent to which this is true probably won't become obvious until after repeated viewings.
"Va savoir" is an intelligent comedy for those who
believe that "French relationship drama" and "great"
are not a contradiction in terms. It may seem
pretentious at first, but it becomes considerably more
light-hearted in the second half, when all pretensions
are up-ended and rivals square off in original ways.
The final battle between Pierre and Ugo, in which the
main weapon is vodka, is one you are not likely to
forget.
MARTHA... MARTHA (Sandrine Veysset, 2001)
The latest by the director of "Y aura-t-il de la neige a Noel" (Will It Snow for Christmas?) is dedicated to "your need for consolation." That does not mean that "Martha... Martha" is a comforting film; on the contrary, it is one of the more depressing offerings at this year's festival. It is a startling portrait of a mentally unstable woman, with an ending that bodes well for some characters but not at all for others.
"Martha... Martha" is the story of a young woman(unsurprisingly called, well, Martha) who ekes out a living selling second-hand clothes at markets. She is shallow, self-centred and incurably restless, and although she genuinely cares about her husband Reymond and her 6-year-old daughter Lise, she is too irresponsible to do them much good. As the story unfolds, it is hinted that Martha may have had a traumatic childhood, but no explanation is provided for her increasingly eccentric behaviour. Instead, she simply disappears from the film, only to return for its harrowing finale.
Deviant psychology aside, "Martha... Martha" is a film about relationships. About the relationship between Martha and her sister, who fears that Martha will hazard her relationship with her husband. About the relationship between Martha and Reymond, who unconditionally loves his wife no matter what stunts she pulls. About the relationship between Martha and Lise, whom Martha cheats at Monopoly and whom she tries to pressure into admitting that she loves not her father, but only her mother. And, last but not least, about the relationship between Reymond and Lise, who bear Martha's antics and later disappearance with a concern for each other that is quite touching - culminating in one of the most powerful Christmas scenes I have seen.
"Martha... Martha" is both alienating and intense. It
is mysterious in that there are many scenes which
touch on things which are further left unexplored,
forcing the viewer to fill in the blanks himself. At
the same time, it is intensely ominous, partly because
of the morbid stories Martha tells at the beginning
and partly because of the scary nightmare sequences
that follow later. By and large, however, the film
derives its intensity from the compelling performances
by the leads. Valerie Donzelli makes a startlingly
ambiguous Martha, both irresistible in her zest for
life and insufferable in her self-indulgence. Yann
Goven is likewise superbly confused as her husband.
But it is little Lucie Regnier who walks away with the
film as the precocious daughter torn between her need
for maternal love and her wish to support her father.
The scenes between Regnier and her film parents are
not lightly forgotten.
THE HAPPINESS OF THE KATAKURIS (Takashi Miike, 2001)
"The Happiness of the Katakuris" is probably the most light-hearted film Miike has made. It features neither brutal murders nor exotic means of torture; instead it boasts cheesy love songs, bizarre animations and the message that "anything can happen in life" and that "happiness is laughing together." Well, quite.
"The Happiness of the Katakuris" is a musical murder mystery centred on the six-person Katakuri family, which consists of middle-aged Mr Katakuri and his father, both retired shoe salesmen; Mrs Katakuri, whose only joy in life is baking endless rows of cakes; their adult son and daughter, a convicted thief and an incurable romantic, respectively; and the daughter's little daughter, who is the narrator of the story. When the story begins, the Katakuris have just opened a hotel in the middle of nowhere. Ten minutes into the film, they receive their first guest, who goes on to commit suicide in his room. Just when they have disposed of his body (in a remarkably subtle, un-Miike-like way), the next guest arrives, who also dies. And when they have finally disposed of HIS body (which isn't easy, as he was a sumo wrestler), an entire dejected-looking family shows up and asks for a strong rope. What is a family to do?
This is quite possibly the campiest film this side of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show." Although the story itself is fairly straightforward, it is full of weird touches such as impromptu love songs, 1980s choreographies and a karaoke intermission which is unfortunately in Japanese. Not all the songs are funny (several of them are cheesy in the wrong sense of the word), but at their best (such as the deathbed elegy at the end of the film) they are absolutely hilarious. There are also some, er, unusual animations (moon with mating rabbits on it, anyone?), and of course a host of bizarre supporting characters, amongst whom a murderer who pretends to be a nephew of Queen Elizabeth (even though he looks completely Japanese) and who introduces himself to the hopelessly romantic Miss Katakuri with the words "My nose is not bleeding because I'm horny" - as if she would ever presume to think so.
"The Happiness of the Katakuris" isn't necessarily a good film. However, it has lots of original flourishes, and at its best it is a definite laugh. If happiness does indeed lie in laughing together, as Mr Miike contends, you could do worse than watching this.
COMING UP:
- Takashi Miike's "Ichi the Killer"
- Zhang Yang's "Quitting"
- Catherine Breillat's "Breve traversee"
- Zacharias Kunuk's "Atanarjuat, the Fast Runner"
Your very own Rotterdam reporter,
Elaine
