Dead ringers (1988)

Dead ringers is very much a David Cronenberg film. Two twins pursue the same woman, who cannot separate the one from the other. Gradually, the twins' identities start to blur. Of course, I mean: of course, the twins are gynecologists. As this is a Cronenberg film, the gruesome perversity of corporeality must be explored. But Dead ringers is a much less raunchy affair than earlier films such as Videodrome or The Fly. Cronenberg's style here, and in many other films, is based on a drab scenery, quite dry dialogue, and then - the sudden rupture of strangeness. Often, this works. At time, Dead ringers is, however, too monotonous for its own best and I mean monotonous not as in slow but as in the film becoming empty, so that this viewer starts to scream inside: yes, yes, I've seen this scene a thousand times, we know that these guys' inner lives are falling apart! What I like about the film relates only secondarily to the story. I adore Cronenberg's fondness for what first appears like icy, clinical elegance (look at Jeremy Irons' fabulously bloodless appearance as both of the twins in the beginning of the film!) - and then this whole world is torn to pieces, it gradually transmutes into something completely different, very un-clinical. Dead ringers is a quiet and subdued film with a grisly content. Put it on at 3:00 am on a Tuesday night and you will have a blast!

The Legend of Paul and Paula (1973)

I know extremely little about films produced in DDR. The Legend of Paul and Paula (dir. Heiner Carow) was apparently a popular movie in its day. I am surprised by this, as I found the film quite bizarre, almost on a par with Fassbinder's Satan's brew! It is more the style than the story that made this film quite a universe of its own. The camera is often hand held and scenes tend to wind up in a way you least expect. A strange technique is used to cut strange elements into a familiar setting. Paul and Paula are in love but they can't be together. Or are they really in love? Well, maybe they are, in their own, eccentric way. Class differences - check, funny images of work - check. The film follows the path of romantic tragedy, a couple who do not end up in each other's arms, but the way the film carries out this little plot is way out of step with conventional norms of romantic stories. The legend of Paul and Paula is hysteric, grotesque at times - erratically playful with style. Oh - and if you decide to watch this film, don't forget to check out the settings: very un-glossy urban scenery. And also: the ending, the ending! If the romantic comedies of the present Hollywood type would end this way, I wouldn't hesitate to watch one or two. Even though this was by no means a masterpiece, it was a funny, strangle little film that made me curious about the cinema of the GDR.

Route Irish (2010)

My friend talked about Route Irish (dir. Ken Loach) and I was eager to see it because of her enthusiastic description. Maybe I was in a bad mood while watching the film, but I was disappointed, having expected a film exploring the traumas of mercenaries. Of course, it did do that, to some extent, but for the most part, Route Irish treads the path of conventional thriller.  The main character, a tough guy, worked in Iraq as a private security contractor. What I wished for was a critical investigation of the business of these firms, providing 'services' to war-stricken countries. Even though that dimension existed, there were for example a few sour lines about firms providing both security and development projects, this was overshadowed by the main plot, which was about the frantic attempt of the main character to get clear about how his friend died. The official explanations turn out to be a cover-up of more gruesome circumstances. Ken Loch has directed many fine movies, but this was not one of them, despite of the fact that it dealt with a serious and important topic (and despite its raw depiction of Liverpool). What the film lacked was an original approach to the theme; the development of the story felt clunky and uninspired, the characters going through their characters rather one-dimensionally, fixating on one tone of voice. Cliches abounded (mostly about the state of mind of a troubled macho man), and from the get-go, I pretty much knew what to expect - which had the effect that I was alienated from the topic, I simply did not care much about it, and instead, started to observe all the clumsy attempts at showing one man's desire to attain justice and truth. In some scenes, the reality of war and the impact war has on people not directly involved in it, became apparent, but this was more an exception - because of the fairly stereotypical depiction of honest-but-tragic men and slimey villains. Route Irish has its heart in the right place, and it is justified in its critique of commercialized warfare - but as a film, it is, in my opinion, an artistic failure. Route Irish is not The Hurt Locker.

Wise blood (1979)

John Huston is an eccentric director and Wise blood, based on a novel by Flannery O'connor is a loony film. I watched the film before reading the book, which I am happy about now, taking account of Huston's very personal relation to a story. The main character, Hazel, is elusive, remains elusive. He is an angry man and it is his anger that drives him but I am never sure where he is going next. This makes everything in the movie unexpected. Things just happen and something new waits around the corner. It is a strange, strange world. Everybody thinks Hazel is a preacher, because of his hat, and he ends up becoming a sort of a preacher, building a church of his own, a church without Christ, a church where the blind remain blind and the dead stay that way. On his erratic journey Hazel bumps into a string of misfits: a sham preacher and his daughter, who lusts for Hazel. Then there is Emery, a loney guy who wants somebody to be his friend in the cold-hearted town. And there is the businessman who wants to make a dollar or two out of Hazel's evangelical performances on top of a scruffy car. Some reviewers have celebrated Wise blood as a deep film about religious redemption. For my own part, I had difficulties in relating to the 'spiritual' change in the main character. Personally, I enjoyed the film as a sad piece about loneliness and the weird ways in which we try to reach out to each other. The positively frantic acting of the main characters is brilliant, perfectly in synch with the offbeat, eerie atmosphere of the film. My impression of Wise blood can be summed up this way: I loved it for being weirdly comic, but I couldn't make much of the story. Do you like southern gothic? Watch this.   

Still Walking (2008)

It is a rare gift for a director to have the ability to render the rhythm of ordinary life on film. Hirokazu Kore-eda clearly has this gift, and for this reason it is tempting to compare Still Walking with the films of Ozu. I think this is a fair parallell, as Kore-eda takes a similar interest in the dynamics of family life. Characteristic for these both directors is a complete lack of sentimentality. This is not the kind of film that turns family into ideology and nor does it approach the story from the perspective of dystopia. In Still Walking, we see people, some of whom know each other extremely well, being irritated by one another's ideosyncracies, which doesn't take away love and respect. The story of the film is centered around a reunion that marks the 15th anniversary of the death of the eldest brother. The film follows the family in ordinary rituals: eating, taking a walk, preparing dinner. Nothing very drastic happens, but there is always tension in the air. Kore-eda wants us to scrutinize the small things, gestures, an exchang of intentive glances, silences. As with Ozu's films, the camera is kept on a low level, staying close to the family. I have rarely seen a film that exudes such intimacy as Still Walking. Where other contemporary directors (Haneke for example) choose to see intimacy as something that almost always verges on violence and dread, Kore-eda's approach is gentler, without this implying that he settles with cozy and rosy images of the close relations of a family. Intimacy, here, can mean as different things as the coy discussions while preparing food as the mother of the family putting on the record that she listened to while in love with her husband as a young girl. Small moments mean a lot: a father that welcomes the appearance of his son at the house with a neutralized grunt, 'so you're here'. There is a lot of discomfort in the way the family members interact with each other, but we never see explosions or ruptures - this is the kind of movie that makes hints about things that people rarely talk about, but boils under the surface, the kind of emotions that are rarely verbalized in a direct way.

To a large extent, the film focuses on the relation between the oldest son, Ryota and his parents. Ryota has married a widow with a son, and his parents make a fuss about this, at first not really treating his wife and son as members of the family. Ryota is unemployed, "between jobs", and this is clearly treated as a  shameful matter as he makes up stories for his parents to hide this fact. His father is a retired doctor, and has strict ideas about what constitutes 'a worthwhile occupation'. Kore-eda manages to bring up big ideas and emotions and still let the story drift, unwind through the twists and turns of ordinary discussions. Kore-eda has a superb understanding for the strange bond between parents and children. A mark of what makes this film so great is that the locations actually come to look like a home, or the surrroundings of a home. This is not an easy task, as 'locations' in films tend to be reduced to a neutral prop. Here, the home is partially constituted by a sensitive attention to how the characters move in and out of rooms, how they sit down or stand up.

Still Walking is the best film I've seen in a long time.

Zero de conduite (1933)

Jean Vigo made a brave movie when he directed Zero for Conduct. In a defiant, jolly manner, the film follows a bunch of boisterous kids in a boarding school. They won't let themselves become robots in a disciplinarian system. The film, along with the kids, bustles with irreverent life. Vigo treats the children's revolt as a justified act of rebellion against a school that leaves much to be desired. Bad food is served and some of the teachers seem quite sub-par. It's a beautiful and quite experimental little film, that often tells the story through eerie long shots. Sometimes the perspective of the camera is weird, so we approach the world of the school from a strange point of view, which only adds to this carnivalistic universe in which anything is possible and roles are not fixed.

Prometheus (2012)

At one point in the middle of Prometheus (dir. Ridley Scott), I actually thought it would take the following route: humans go to weird planet to look for anchestors. They come upon a few monsters and a bunch of corpses. They board the ship again, disappointed. So much for looking into the Grand Origin of Humanity. End of story. Of course, it did not turn out like this. Prometheus is not the Nietzschean culture critique it should have been... or something. Nor did it develop a critique of shady corporate interests going on behind the backs of everyone. Prometheus opts for the pompous, the quasi-religious. The thin storyline was augmented with just as cheap effects. Yes, some scenes look good, but there is no point to anything. We've seen plenty of the twists in the film in earlier Alien films, so there was really not much to write home about here; one may even speak about recycling, and not in a good way. My most positive judgment about the film concerns the design of the settings: great job there. Plus it was fun to see the familiar landscapes of Isle of Skye in a film. Another fun aspect of the film is the choice of role model for the sentient robot David - Lawrence of Arabia as the prototype of humanity! Do we sense cosmig significance? Not really, we sense tacky. By any means, this is not 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Tough Guys Don't Dance (1987)

oh God!
oh man!
oh God!
oh man!
oh God!
One can say one thing about Norman Mailer's Tough Guys Don't Dance and it's that this is one hell of a weird movie. Is that a good or bad thing? Well, you decide. The script seems a mess, and the acting is sure ... a league of its own. So is the development of the story. And oh, the lines - the LINES! This film was made in that glorious period in which the genre of film noir was revitalized in a sleazy, moody way. There are a few great examples of this version of 80's noir, but this is hardly one of them, even though I would say that it has its indubitable value as a bad-good film where one never knows what will come next. The main character, in a classical way, suffers from amnesia. Of course, gruesome things have happened and in its own very peculiar way, the film sorts out what has been going on. If you can follow this film without having read the book, my congratulations. As Ebert writes in his review - many scenes play out like comedy but when you think about the film afterwards, there seems to be some kind of sadness in it that no element of the narrative seems to explain.

Only Angels Have Wings (1939)

Howard Hawkes' Only Angels Have Wings explores a familiar theme. A group of alpha-male pilots stationed in a South American port city have to deal with the harshness of their job. In order to attain a contract, they are forced to venture out in bad weather, risking their lives. Colleagues die; they have to deal with it - somehow. This situation is explored with the mediation of a woman. This is a slightly typical move; it is the emotional reactions of a woman that sheds light on the situation. And yes, in this film, the gender patterns are almost exclusively shady. But still, the film also looks into variations within the group of pilots, some of whom try to appear as stone-faced Stoics, others show emotions more immediately. By no means was this a film that Opened my Eyes to Great Existential Issues - but it wasn't the worst film in the history of Hollywood either. Check out an elegant use of settings and a bunch of tight scenes. If you want a film that challenges ideas about emotional self-restraint, this is not bad at all.

The Woman in the Window (1944)

The Woman in the Window has some shallow similarities with It's a Wonderful life. It's just that Fritz Lang's film is better, less sentimental than the X-masy morality tale you all know. In the ouevre of Mr Lang, this is a minor film, but as a paranoid crime story, it works pretty well - it kept this viewer interested, at least interested enough to sit through the entire thing. The story is a simple one. A middleaged professor sits with his buddies talking about the way they are not in the Game anymore, no, the way of Vice is not... their way. A small tiny step and you're in hell. The professor, of course, ends up in hell. Or that's what we think. What keeps the film going is the elegant cinematography paired with the very stripped-down nature of the storytelling. - - The ending, I must warn you, makes the film a far sloppier affair than it could've been.