Brief encounter (1945)

Brief encounter, directed by David Lean, is certainly not the most revolutionary film in the world; it is what one might call a subdued love story (or is it really a love story at all?). It's not melodrama exactly - it's too quiet and understated for that. The dialogue & style show an appropriate amount of restraint - in a very English manner the film keeps us at a certain distance, most of the storytelling taking place through voice-over. That is not unproblematic, but for all the problems about telling-not-showing, this is a good film that focuses on psychology, rather than story. The depiction of this unhappy story about a housewife's desire is interesting because it is open-ended; did Lean intend to craft a piece of social critique about the boring world of the house wife? - Very likely. How are we to describe Laura's feelings for the doctor, and what the heck was up with that guy anyway? It's a grown-up film about infidelity that opens up more questions than it provides answers for - what a relief. Not all scenes are believable but at some moments, the actors faces have a peculiar glow that makes this film feel relevant. Watching it is a lot like reading a Graham Greene novel. A very stylish film. I liked it.

Pierrot le fou (1965)

The effect Jean-Luc Godard's films have on me is a sensation of bugs crawling under my skin. It's not that I am bothered by the lack of story and it is not that his films are too slow or that I prefer "content" over "style". Godard's films make me world-weary and I don't know why I make another effort, watching yet another one of his movies. Maybe because many hold him to be an important director whose films have had a large impact on the history of film. It is foolish to make premature judgements.

So - Pierrot le fou. Nothing in it surprises me. References to American culture - check. Blowing things up or shooting people (A GIRL AND A GUN!) - check. A man and a woman - check. Mort - check, check, check, check. Witty verfremdungseffekts - CHECK! Reminders to the viewer: this is a MOVIE - c-h-e-c-k.

A man and a woman (a dead body seen at the edge of a frame) and a few cars. Crime. Algerian gangsters. Philosophizing. "Don't call me Pierrot, my name is Ferdinand." Ferdinand & Marianne at play (vietnamese&american), on the beach, mulling over the essence of death and the essence of love. Falling out of love.

There were a couple of scenes which didn't irritate me as much as the rest. One of them was the scene in which Marianne & Ferdinand-I-am-called-Ferdinand sit in a car, talking pompously (as usual) while the streetlights are reflected on the windshield.

Arguably, this film is less sexist than, for example, Breathless. Godard toys with the notion of "a woman destroying a man" and the self-indulged intellectual - but also with images of unexpected violence that is not clearly gender-marked (the scene at the gas station).

My opinions on Godard might be too ardent. But really, I don't understand. What is supposed to be so great/subversive about this? Yes, there is innovation in how he uses off-screen dialogue, fragments, intertitles, self-mockery, chapters, colors, filters, pastiche, music - but all these things are employed in a shallow way, it seems to me. Godard makes some witty observations about film-as-experience, but I never feel deeply puzzled by his films, just, "awwright, he wants me to challenge the idea of fiction. Right-o." But Godard's "mastery of genres" leaves me cold. 

Even though there are a few references to contemporary political events (mainly the Vietnam war) I fail to see how these references are to be understood (La Chinoise was more interesting, but only slightly so). The only thought that appears in my head while watching a Godard film is that gosh, this guy hates humanity. Sorry, but I can't for my life find anything interesting in that type of contempt.

Revue (2008)

A small boy is asked to recite a poem. In a dramatic voice, he recites a poem with a metaphoric message pointing towards the rottenness of capitalism. More questions are fired at the boy. What profession would he like to have? Would he like to study? Then: do you like to work? The boy stares in front of himself with a blank face and says nothing.

This is one amazing scene in Revue (2008), a compilation of Soviet propaganda movies. Most of the movies celebrate labor & technology. There are images of factories and machines, agriculture and railways. Interwoven with these themes are different forms of art; dancing, singing, poetry. The intimate connection between labor & art in this compilation of archive footage made me think of one point that some philosophers have made and been criticized for making: the development of community can be seen as a form of artistic work. Labor takes on a double meaning. Labor is not only the crafting of products but it is also the process of developing community. When watching Revue, the double meaning of work is very obvious: the images of hard labor (preferably manufacturing steel) and sophisticated technological innovations are supposed to be seen as the development of society, of a new Man. Community is thus understood as a form of (self-)production. This idea may have something to do with the idea that work is not only a concrete activity but also work as civilizing and domesticizing the world.

In the loop (2009)

If you liked the TV-series The thick of it, you'll probably appreciate In the loop, which is loosely based on that series. We're dealing with political satire that depicts the world of politics with a cynical, yet understanding, eye. This is not a film about a specific political issue - not even the war of Iraq which the politicians and bureaucrats portrayed in the film are making policies and statements about - but rather how bureaucracy and politics are linked within an endless loop of "policy-making" and committee-running. Actually, if you have seen the series or this film, the word "policy" is hard to say or see with a straight face. The style of In the loop is very similar to that of the series: a hectic cluster of scenes, hand-held camera, people rushing in & out of rooms, continuously firing off obscenities at each other.

The dark heart of the film is Malcolm Tucker, the PM:s Minister of Communication, whose armada of swearwords is seemingly endless. The story starts off when the Minister for International Development, Simon Foster, tells an interviewer that war is "unforseeable". The Minister, an insecure guy who hasn't grasped his place in the world (at one point, Malcolm calls him "a Nazi Julie Andrews" for having blurted out something about "climbing the mountain of conflict"), is sent off to Washington to gather information. Disaster, of course, ensues.

Arguably, this is not a film-film. It's more an extension of the series The thick of it. A harder question concerns what kind of humor the film trades in. How does it treat its cynism? Does my cynical stance become too comfortable? Well, I wouldn't say that. In the loop (and The thick of it) is a good satire of political language. In focusing on that, it stands out from other forms of satire.

In the loop is not a very original film. But it hell is funny one.

Man tänker sitt (2009)

Farväl Falkenberg was a splendid film that captured a sense of sadness and nostalgia. Man tänker sitt, Henrik Hellström & Fredrik Wenzel's first feature film (they were part of the Falkenberg production & writing team), isn't as superb, but it sure is an original movie that gives you a lot to think about. It builds up a dreamy world of ugliness (a glowing Lidl sign, fences, well-pruned hedges) and as a contrast with that, raw nature.

Man tänker sitt has plenty of things in common with Falkenberg; gorgeous, almost sacral, music by Erik Enochsson, to mention one thing. But something went astray in the process. Thematically, the films are also very similar: Hellström & Wenzel take a sombre look at the enclosed life of suburbia, trying to formulate what lies beyond that kind of bourgeois setting. In both films, nature provides an escape (the English translation of the title: Burrowing). Open fields, lakes, forests conjure up another world, unbothered by neighbourly gazes and concerns. The civilization criticism of Man tänker sitt could even, with its explicit Thoreauan baggage, be said to have a romantic outlook on nature. And there my problems with this film begin. The characters' alienation from suburbia is, it seems to me, painted with too broad streaks. The dialogue & scene composition sometimes stray into the stereotypical. (I started to reflect on how authors & directors seem to have developed a special branch of the Swedish language to conjure up shallow small-talk.) On the level of ideas, the film is rather vague. What is it trying to say?

Still, there are lots of great scenes that work really well. In one scene, the camera seems to make a 360 degree movement around the boring surroundings consisting of family houses and fences - the effect is dazzling. The young boy's wanderings at the football field is another. That particular role is well acted (some other characters become a little too sketchy). The young actor has a peculiar presence. It is that actor's voice that provides the voice-over, quotes from Thoreau (I suppose) along with small observing comments about the community. The camera-work is mostly stunning and so is the music.

As another reviewer points out, Gummo and George Washington are apt points of reference. Tarkovsky, of course, is another.

Domino (2005)

I've watched too many Hungarian and French movies about the Existential Void so I dig out a VHS tape containing a trashy movie about .... the Existential Void. Tony Scott is the person responsible for the quasi-experimental action flick Domino. No, it wasn't good at all and yes, Tony Scott directed Top gun. Though it was an inanely directed, messy film the story of which was ridiculously overwrought, Domino was quite fun to watch because of its visual over-the-top, music-video stylized voluminousness. Sadly, the "edge" of the visuals has a slightly dated feel already a couple of years after the film was released. Scott works with extremely short takes (2-3 seconds per take), processed images & filters, plus lots of slow-motion and other visual tricks. For all its visual inventiveness, this is pure zero-brains entertainment and the whole thing comes off pretty ... cheap. Be prepared for lots of cheesy, unintentionally funny lines.

Keira Knightley plays a tough bounty hunter. In the film, her role is limited to a pretty face and cool clothes. Mickey Rourke plays her colleague and his role is to have a rugged face. God damned Ian Ziering plays a former Beverly hills 90210 star (which is quite fun). And I won't even start talking about the Tom Waits cameo... The main learning from this movie is that people from Afghanistan are skillful in the art of blowing things up. Here's how Ebert ended his review: "Seeking guidance in understanding the movie's manic narrative, I poked around online, and discovered in one review the explanation that the movie "totally challenges the bourgeois notion of the nuclear family." Oh."

Fish tank (2009)

Fish tank, directed by Andrea Arnold, is gut-wrenchingly good. Arnold knows how to make mundane landscapes, urban rubble, come to life. And her film handles its character very well - complexity & sometimes ambiguity are not refused. In contrast with many contemporary directors, she is interested in the medium of film making; there is not one sloppy image of this film - and there is no scenes that is added in the film only for its "information value". Taking into account the main character's interest in dancing, the film itself, and the handheld camera that lends a peculiar energy to the images, is driven by a steady rhythm. Sometimes that energy reminds me of greasy, American movies from the 70's (like Dog day afternoon). The very first frame has an amazing surge.

Lots of film makers attempt to make films that explore the theme of coming-of-age. Most of these films are terrible failures. Arnold's film features some real insight into young people's lives & how young people talk. In that way, her film doesn't come off as a contrived attempt at "authenticity". It's a story about Mia, who is in her element only when street-dancing by herself, her working-class family, and the drunken mum's boyfriend with whom Mia is infatuated. Despite its bleak story, the film is not worn down by moralistic tendencies. It's not trying to be bleak (except, perhaps, during a couple of scenes towards the end which are somewhat less accomplished than the rest of the film - but still great) and it's not trying to rub a message into your face either.

What makes Fish tank such a good film is that it takes a real interest in the world inhabited by its characters; a shady trailer park, grey apartment blocks, a deserted apartment, dichotomous suburbia. As one theme of the film is a young person's passion for dancing, it is only natural that, to a great extent, the film revolves around space; how space is made, inhabited, deserted. But the awareness of space also make the film politically and artistically interesting. The tension of many scenes builds upon the clash of one type of space with another: interiors & exteriors, grey apartment blocks & a quiet lake, a quiet forest & domesticized suburbia. And freedom is nowhere to be found.

For this particular reason, it is impossible to place Arnold's film in the "human interest" box. It is not a human interest movie the purpose of which is to make the viewer "empathic". If people tell you it's a film about "dysfunctional families" you might be led to think it is. But you can just as well say it is a film about dysfunctional space. And, anyway, Fish tank has more in common with the fierce realism of Mike Leigh or Ken Loach than with the very American style displayed in a recent films such as Precious.

La peau douce (1964)

If it wasn't for the very last scene, I would have rated The soft skin very poorly. The last scene is redeeming, but it doesn't save the film from being yet another French new wave film that makes you despise humankind (that's so deep). Truffaut's movie might not have been as sexist as it initially appeared to be, but it does revolve a lot around the tired old schema of "war of the sexes" (trading in stereotypes & dichotomies). What I intend to say is just that Truffaut's film is a bloody mess when it comes to how he deals with gender.
 
You know what I think about Nouvelle Vague? I think it is overrated. I might change my mind someday, but right now - I am so fed up with sexist & self-indulgent movies directed by auteurs admired for their technical skills but mostly for their existential depth. (I managed to watch 20 minutes of Jules et Jim.)

Truffaut has some interesting things going on here. The treatment of sound is excellent - how some random sound (the rumbling of an aeroplane, for example) suddenly dominates the viewing experience and interrupts the story. The fascination with "modernity" works well, too. What about the genre-hopping? That works to some extent, too.

The story is nothing to write home about. Truffaut studies the psychology of adultery and a seedy affair that goes nowhere because the man, a succesful academic, is too reserved to be dragged along into a love affair and because the woman, a young stewardess, seems not to be attracted to this guy anyway. Poor Pierre.

Le couperet (2005)

Le couperet is yet one of those films to digest an interesting theme, but that tries too hard in satisfying the viewer's cravings for "interesting story". A middle-aged man loses his job at a paper manufacturing firm due to outsourcing. Embittered by being let down by his employer, he looks for a new position, but with no success. The world of work is no utopia and the man goes to some lenghts to secure his position: he kills off his competitors. As a critique of capitalism, Le couperet makes some good points, rediculing some elements of work that are usually glorified; "to be ambitious", to show that one "cares about finding a job". For the man, Bruno, work is everything. He explains that losing his job means losing the essence of himself - and even his family. There are a couple of scenes in the film in which the ruthlessness of modern work is displayed to a great effect. But mostly, Le couperet bores me with its attempt at being a "thriller" and "black comedy". Even when dealing in "critique", it tends to miss the mark by clinging to a scale of black & white. 
Jose Garcia's blanked-faced acting is excellent, though.
But yes, I agree with the sinister message of Le couperet: capitalism does not create healthy ambition - it moulds its own character trait: psychopathy.

Delta (2008)

Delta seems to be one of those films that is shown on a couple of film festivals and is subsequently sent off to mould in movie archives. Then again, Finnish TV showed it a few months ago. To my pleasure, because this is a quite good film.

The young director, Kornél Mundruczó, is mostly in charge of what s/he does here. It's an artistically successful movie: visually stunning, great scenery (the Danube delta), great work with colors, mostly unostentatious acting (but maybe not through-and-through convincing). Interestingly, Mundruczó is the person responsible for the horrendous Johanna, which I reviewed a while ago. Arguably, his work has an inclination towards the controversial. In Johanna, that proved to be a bad thing. With regards to Delta, I'm not sure what to say.

Mihail returns to the village where his mother, new boyfriend & half-sister lives. He has saved some money to build a house on the river delta on land owned by his late father. His sister goes to live with him and it turns out the bond between them is not limited to the Hegelian/Platonic purity of brother/sister relationship. There are some twists along the way and right from the start, I have a hunch something bad is bound to happen. There's a heavy feeling of tragic foreboding in these images, regardless of what they depict: beautiful landscapes, the peaceful ploddings of a turtle. 

There are weaknesses in how the story unfolds & in how it is developed. Some scenes are ingeniously shot with long, swirling takes, but not complex enough in terms of content. But that doesn't bother me too much. It was an interesting film that managed to stick to its aesthetic ideas - even though it is clearly inspired by the great Béla Tarr, it didn't end up being intrusively derivative. Mundruszó doesn't play in Tarr's league with this film but the visual poetry it creates is still quite marvellous.

Some things bother me, though, and, as in Johanna, it concerns Mundruczó's interest in female sexuality. To some extent, he shows awareness of patriarchal society & the kind of repression and violence it exerts. But maybe the problem is that the elements of violence runs the risk of becoming a mere visual shock disrupting the languid pace of the film - that Mundruczó is more interested in scenery and people end up being mere dramatic prop? But that is not entirely true.