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Official Oscar entry

Close – End of childhood innocence

January 25, 2023 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

Coming of age can open the world in new ways, but at what price? In Lukas Dhont’s Close (which is Belgium’s entry for Oscar consideration) we watch a sudden and tragic shift from the idyllic world of childhood to thechallenging world of trying to fit in to the expectations of society. The film has been shortlisted for Best International Feature.

Thirteen year olds Léo (Eden Dambrine) and Rémi (Gustav De Waele) are best friends. We first see them as they spend a summer day running through the commercial flower field that Léo’s parent work. They have sleepovers where they unconscientiously sleep side by side. They tell each other stories. Léo sheds tears as he listens to Rémi masterfully play his oboe. Theirs is a Edenic existence that exemplifies the innocence of childhood.

When school starts, they head off to their new school together. As the camera moves back, we see that they are alone in the crowd of other kids they don’t know. They are physically demonstrative of their emotional closeness. Then one day at recess, a girl asks Léo, “Are you two together?” That question changes everything.

Léo is now aware that there are social expectations at play. He immediately begins to create distance between himself and Rémi, who until now has been his most intimate friend. He begins to avoid Rémi, leaving Rémi even more alone in this new environment. Léo joins the hockey team as a way of proving his masculinity, even though it is new and awkward for him.

On a school field trip tragedy happens. Rémi is dead. The school is distraught. We watch as grief counselors help the children address their grief. But Léo remains silent and stoic. His grief is put on hold, because how can he deal with such feelings—including guilt—without looking unmasculine.

The only other person who might understand is Rémi’s mother Sophie (Émilie Dequenne). But how can he go to her when he feels like he is so much at fault for what has happened? Sophie is also struggling to find answers and comfort in the aftermath of Rémi’s death. She feels as if she has lost two sons, because early in the film she calls Léo, the “son of my heart”. It is the tentative reaching out of these two people that will open the possibility of healing.

Dhont draws on his own experience of growing up queer, but he is careful not to label the boys’ relationship as anything other than childhood friendship. It is the very threat of labeling that pushes Léo to separate himself from his friend and soulmate. To further prove he doesn’t fit such a label, Léo goes out for hockey. Hockey is convenient because not only is it considered manly, but he is able to hide. He wears a uniform, so he is an indistinguishable part of a group. He is masked, and in a sense, caged.

This is a film that focuses on isolation. Adolescence is often a time when the perceived conflicts of social expectation cause changes in the way we see the world. Léo by distancing himself from Rémi isolates them both. Rémi is abandoned. Léo, even as he tries to fit in, is still cut off from meaningful relationship—certainly from anything as meaningful as he has shared with Rémi. That isolation proves deadly for Rémi. It also is totally stifling for Léo in his grief.

Léo’s entry into adolescence turned out to be an expulsion from the Eden he had known with Rémi. He will never be able to go back. It will be challenging for him to move into his new world. It will be even harder if he is only allows his perceived role to define him.

Photos courtesy of A24.

Filed Under: AFIFest, Film, Reviews Tagged With: Belgium, coming-of-age, Official Oscar entry, Oscar shortlist

EO – Four-legged Odysseus

November 28, 2022 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

Aesop told fables with animals to teach about human nature. In the Torah we find a story of Balaam and his donkey in which the donkey sees what Balaam cannot. EO is the story of a donkey, but it is also a story about us. EO is Poland’s entry for Best International Feature Oscar consideration.

Director Jerzy Skolimowski has created in EO a fitting homage to Robert Bresson’s 1966 film Au hasard Balthazar. Knowledge of Au hasard Balthazar is not needed to appreciate this film, but those familiar with it will find their viewing of this film enhanced. The Bresson film was viewed by many as reflecting the suffering of Christ. EO is not a remake, but it certainly has thematic resonance.

EO is a trained donkey who has spent his life performing in a circus. When animal rights group force the circus to quit using animals, EO is sent away from the only home he’s known and the woman who loves him. Thus begins this four-legged Odysseus’s journey. Along the way he’ll encounter kind people and cruel people. He will walk through the valley of the shadow of death. He will escape danger. He’ll be rescued. He’ll be beaten. He encounters an Italian priest and a countess. He becomes a soccer mascot, and then a scapegoat to soccer rowdies. He carries burdens, and he lives freely.

This is not so much a movie we watch as a movie we feel. It is emotionally evocative. We fear for EO. We rejoice when he finds love. Whereas Au hasard Balthazar focused more on the human cruelty that the donkey encountered, EO mixes cruelty with kindness, humor, indifference, and fear. Sort of like what life is like for us all.

EO is not fable or metaphor, but we connect with the donkey in such a way that we feel we know his life—because the various events, challenges, and people that make up this journey are so like what we face in our own. By the end, that emotional connection we have developed will lead us to consider even deeply existential questions of our world—ones we share with animals such as EO.

EO is in limited release.

Photos courtesy of Janus Films.

Filed Under: AFIFest, Film, Reviews Tagged With: homage, Official Oscar entry, Poland

Argentina, 1985 – Historical justice

November 1, 2022 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

“History isn’t made by guys like me.”

Justice is often elusive when it involves those who have abused great power. Santiago Mitre’s film Argentina, 1985 is inspired by the true story of the prosecution of the military dictators that ruled Argentina in a violent period, during which many were kidnapped, tortured, killed,  raped, or disappeared. Could those in charge of this reign of terror be brought to justice?  The film calls the Trial of the Juntas “the most important trial in Argentina’s history”, and “the most important trial since Nuremberg”. Argentina, 1985 is Argentina’s official submission for Best International Feature Oscar consideration.

After a democratic government came to power after seven years of military rule, the government wanted the military leaders tried. The leaders of the Junta declared that they could only be tried by a military court. But when the military powers refused to bring charges, it fell to the civilian courts to take jurisdiction, calling the national prosecutor, Julio César Strassera (Ricardo Darín) to bring a case to the court.

It was not something he looked forward to. Most believed the case was unwinnable and didn’t want to be associated with it. Others of experience supported the fascist ideals of the dictatorship. He was supported by his young, enthusiastic deputy, Luis Moreno Ocampa (Peter Lanzani). They recruit a number of young, very inexperienced attorneys to help them build a case. They spend months gathering testimony from victims around the country to show that this was a systematic genocide that could only happen if supported by those at the top.

Although many in the public supported this trial, many others (including Moreno Ocampa’s mother) thought the military had saved the country from terrorists and revolutionaries. The military leaders said that they were fighting a war. For them the end justified the means, even if innocent people were harmed in the process. When the trial commences in the film, we hear snippets from some of the over 800 witnesses who testified in the case. The stories they bring are horrendous. But will law and justice be able to prevail?

The film is not just a history lesson or a courtroom drama. It allows us to consider whether the pursuit of justice is a worthy endeavor even when it seem likely to be futile. Those involved in the prosecution faced threats to themselves and their families. Those who had been victimized by the dictatorship had to relive their pain yet again. Nothing the court could do would restore the lives that were lost or ruined. Failure to convict could empower future despots who could act without fear of answering to justice. Justice is often elusive. But God calls God’s people to seek justice always.

Of course, such fascist forces are not limited to Argentina. In countries around the world, including in Europe and the US, far right parties are thriving. Sometimes terrorism is not limited to revolutionaries. Often those in power use their power as a form of terrorism. The Trial of the Juntas is worth remembering for the power justice holds in the world.

Argentina, 1985 is streaming on Prime Video.

Photos courtesy of Amazon Studios.

Filed Under: Amazon Prime Video, Film, Reviews Tagged With: Argentina, courtroom drama, dictatorship, military junta, Official Oscar entry, terrorism, torture

Fear – When I was a stranger…

March 11, 2022 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

“We are hospitable people—but Bulgaria belongs to Bulgarians.”

What does it mean to welcome the stranger? It seems to be a lost value in the world today. Ivaylo Hristov’s Fear shows that xenophobia is present in Bulgaria, but we know this is not something that is limited to that nation. Fear was Bulgaria’s official submission for Best Foreign Feature consideration.

Svetla has been widowed and alone for several years. She lives in a village near the Turkish border. She has just lost her job as a teacher because her town doesn’t have enough children. One day, while hunting rabbits, she comes across Bamba, a refugee from Mali, who is trying to get to Germany. When she takes him to the police, they don’t care because they have their hands full with a recent group of Afghan refugees. Svelta brings him home until she can find something to do with him.

These two people don’t even have a common language. (Bamba only speaks English.) This creates some interesting, disjointed conversations as each responds to what they think the other is saying. Bamba, who is also alone, having lost his family, finds sanctuary in Svetla’s house. Svetla finds a companion that fills the emptiness in her life.

The community is less accepting of Bamba’s presence. They write graffiti on Svetla’s house. The sign a petition. They break windows. They kill her dog. No one wants this person who is so different around. But for Svetla, this is a time to take a stand. All her life, she has feared being different or not accepted. She will not stand it any longer.

The film’s title can be read many ways. It is certainly about the fear of the stranger. But it also can be seen in the fear the community tries to create in Bamba and Svetla. It also comes into play when Svetla talks about the fear she has lived with.

In a world that is filled with refugees, the idea of welcoming the stranger is not a theoretical issue. Many countries in Europe are struggling to come to terms with those coming from Africa and from the Middle East. And sadly, in the last week, a great migration from Ukraine. In the US, we struggle with dealing with those coming from Latin America. The influx of people can create difficulties for the countries involved. How do we provide for those in need? How will they affect our economy? What will they take from us? What will they give to us?

There is an interesting comparison in the film between Bamba’s situation and that of the group of Afghans captured by the police. Prior to arresting them, the police had a TV crew looking for something newsworthy in it. The police chief downplayed the danger from the refugees. They didn’t bring drugs. They weren’t violent. They weren’t sick. The main concern after the capture was finding housing for them until they could be taken elsewhere. But the locals just see them as “gypsies”.

We don’t get to know any of this group. No one seems to care about them except in the abstract. But we do get to know Bamba. We know what he could contribute to the community if allowed. But the others only see as far as his skin and language. And the skin seems to be a barrier that the others are not willing to overlook.

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus speaks of the Judgment as dividing sheep and goats, one of the criteria is “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (or not). In this he is reinforcing the teaching of the Torah: “You shall also love the stranger” [as God does]. This is not just an issue of national policy or communities. It is about how we each react to the strangers in our midst. Xenophobia can involve race, religion, sexual orientation, language, disabilities, and many other ways that people are different from us. Will we fear those differences, or welcome the strangers we meet each day?

Fear is available on Virtual Cinema and VOD.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Filed Under: Film, Reviews, VOD Tagged With: Black and White, Bulgaria, Official Oscar entry, Refugees, xenophobia

Brighton 4th – Debts to be paid

February 11, 2022 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

“I wrestled all my life. How could I not wrestle for you?”

Brighton 4th, directed by Levan Kouashvili, is Georgia’s official submission for Best International Feature Film. It won awards at the Tribeca Film Festival for Best International Narrative Film, Best Screenplay, and Best Actor. It is a story of a father’s love and the length he will go to redeem his son.

Kakhi, a former wrestling champion, travels to New York to visit his son, Soso. (Kahki is portrayed by Levan Tadaishvili, a former Olympic and world champion wrestler in the 1970s.) When he arrives, he discovers that Soso is not studying medicine, as was thought. Rather, he is living is the Russian immigrant community of Brighton Beach in Brooklyn. (Many of the people in the film are non-professional actors from the community.) The boarding house he’s in is a friendly community of emigres who all came to the US with hope of a new life, but have never caught hold of the American Dream. They hold on to their past culture because they can’t really adapt. To make matters worse, Soso has run up a $14,000 gambling debt with local Russian mobsters, and the money is due.

As the film progresses, it touches on other aspects of the difficulties these immigrants deal with, such as employers who don’t pay them and threaten to call Immigration. The film sets these up with a certain dark humor.

Kakhi will go to great lengths to try to help Soso get out of debt, and possibly have a new chance to start over. He is even willing to put himself on the line. At his age, though, he is not the man he used to be. Kakhi is a man of integrity and honor, but above all, he is a father who does not give up on his son, even when he seems beyond redemption.

Kakhi is a man who exhibits grace, not only toward his son, but with everyone he interacts with. He is forgiving and kind. He offers hope to those who seem to have given up, or who long for home but cannot go back. But above all, he is fully concentrated on saving his son, at any cost.

Brighton 4th is in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Kino Lorber

Filed Under: Film, Reviews Tagged With: Gambling, immigrants, Official Oscar entry, republic of Georgia, wrestling

The Worst Person in the World – Elusive happiness

February 4, 2022 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

“I’m standing on the sideline of my own life.”

Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World is Norway’s submission for Best International Feature and has been shortlisted for Oscar consideration. Renate Reinsva was honored at Cannes as Best Actress. Trier, in comments before the Sundance screening, called this a Scandinavian take on romantic comedy, noting that this is the land of Ingmar Bergman. It certainly has the elements of romcom, but it also has existential darkness.

The film follows Julie (Reinsva) over a four year period arranged in 12 chapters (plus prologue and epilogue). In the prologue we hear her wonder when her life was supposed to start. Each section of the film shows us a bit more of her search for what her life should be. We see her fall in love with Aksel (Anders Danielsen Lie), who is ten years her senior. She moves in with him and all is well, until she meets Eivind (Herbert Nordrum), who is married. Their relationship begins with a sensual, flirtatious game of defining what constitutes cheating (a game that by its nature is cheating).

In a key chapter, as Julie marks her 30th birthday, she considers what her mother was doing when she was thirty—and her mother—and her mother…. While the role of women has changed over all those years, we can’t help but notice that Julie really has nothing permanent in her life. She may seem free, but without really committing to a man or career or much of anything, she continues to be rudderless.

While the romcom vibe is very real, this is much more a thirties coming-of-age tale. Julie is so engaging and vibrant (because of Reinsva’s performance) we like her and want her to find happiness and fulfilment. Yet we watch helplessly as she goes from one relationship to the next without finding anything that brings real happiness or meaning to her. It’s not so much that she can’t find what she wants; it’s more a case that she may not even know what she wants in life, work, or relationships.

It is also an exploration of the interplay between freedom and commitment. Julie constantly acts to be free from the restraints of commitment, yet she seems to long to have more to her life than she can have on her own. For all the sybaritic joy that fills her life, there is a sense that she is lost in a world that values connections with others.

The Worst Person in the World returns to theaters February 4.

Filed Under: Featured, Film, Film Festivals, Reviews Tagged With: coming-of-age, norway, Official Oscar entry, romantic comedy, Sundance Film Festival

Drive My Car – A Story of Stories

January 19, 2022 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

“If we hope to truly see another person, we have to start by looking within ourselves.”

Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car is built around the power of storytelling—imagined stories, dramatic stories, and personal stories. The film is based on short stories by Haruki Murakami, but also includes a good deal of Anton Chekhov’s play Uncle Vanya, with which the characters in the film have emotional parallels. Drive My Car, Japan’s official submission for Best International Feature Film, has been shortlisted for Oscar consideration.

The film opens with actor Yasuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima) listening to his wife Oto (Reika Kirishima) tell an evolving story in their post-coital revery, a story that he will tell her in the morning when she has forgotten it. Theirs is a complex relationship, but is clearly built on love for each other. Kafuku does multi-language productions of plays, Oto makes tapes that he uses to run lines. One day when he returns home unexpectedly, he discovers a secret. It is one that he seems to be able to live with, but when Oto dies suddenly, it leaves that part of his life unresolved.

The film moves ahead two years. Kafuku travels to Hiroshima to direct Uncle Vanya. When he arrives, he discovers that because of legal reasons, he must have a driver. A young woman, Misaki Watari (Toko Miura), is assigned to him. He is reluctant to entrust her with is beloved bright red Saab 900, but gives in. He has an hour commute each day (at his request), he continues to use the tapes of his wife running lines for the play. Only occasionally do Kafuku and Watari interact at the beginning, but they slowly get to know one another and tell each other bits of their stories.

Much of the film is set in the rehearsals for the play, in which Kafuku has cast a young actor to play Vanya—an actor he suspects had an affair with Oto. His process for doing plays in several languages at once is challenging for the cast, but we watch as the play begins to come together.

Some may be put off by the three hour running time of the film, but whereas many films fill up time with special effects and amazing stunts, this is time that is filled with story. This is a film that peals the layers of story back like an onion. As Kafuku and Watari spend the hours in the car, they open themselves to speak of their traumas and sense of guilt and pain. Finally, they must undertake a road trip that will allow them each to see that life goes on in spite of suffering and sorrow. This is, in fact, the same conclusion that Uncle Vanya comes to. (And when we see the troupe perform the final scene from the play on stage, it is captivating and powerful in the way it is done.)

The sharing of stories, not just in the car, but among actors during and after rehearsals, is not small talk. They are the characters “looking within”, and in so doing discovering their own pain and the pain of others. That allows them to find healing.

It is interesting that filming had to be shut down for eight months. There is a coda to the film in which we see Watari in a supermarket in which everyone is masked. That scene continues to give us an ambiguous vision of how this story ends, but by setting that scene in the midst of the pandemic brings the film’s stories into our story. We too may find ourselves dealing with grief, pain, or guilt. But we too have life to live.

Drive My Car is in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Janus Films.

Filed Under: Featured, Film, Reviews Tagged With: Drive My Car, Japan, Official Oscar entry, road trip, theatre

The Pit – Assumptions and secrets

December 17, 2021 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

How often do we try to judge based on assumptions that may not be true? In The Pit, Latvia’s submission for Best International Feature consideration, there are many assumptions that lead the characters to make judgements that may or may not be justified.

Markuss, a ten year old boy who’s been sent to live with his grandmother after his father’s death, is quiet and sullen. He doesn’t want to be here. He’d rather draw than be with people. As the film opens, he’s left a playmate in a pit. She isn’t found until later that night. This immediately turns the community against Markuss and his grandmother. The girl’s mother is pushing for the boy to be deemed dangerous, based on the pictures he draws. Much of the community’s ideas are based on what they know about Markuss’s father, although we don’t really know much backstory until later—including the backstory of the girl being left in the pit.

In avoiding the judgement of the community (and trying to avoid a beat down from the girl’s brother), Markuss discovers the reclusive Sailor, who lives a bit out of town. Sailor was a friend of Markuss’s grandmother in their youth. It turns out that Sailor makes stained glass windows—or at least is working on one. Markuss’s father was Sailor’s assistant at one point, so Markuss feels a connection, and is soon learning about stained glass. But then Markuss is shocked to discover Sailor’s secret.

Various other secrets are revealed as the story works its way to an ending that may be redemptive for Markuss and the community. Each secret reveals the dark sides of the community that is struggling with its vision of itself in the wake of Markuss’s actions.

The film is a combination of three stories by Latvian author Jana Egles. While we may easily separate out the three stories, the combination of the three create a broader picture of the life of this community. The darkness that seems to define the town is not really based in Markuss, but he seems to be carrying the blame for it. Rather, we learn that Markuss may be the one character who will bring something good to the community.

The Pit is available on Film Movement Plus.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Filed Under: Film, Oscar Spotlight, Reviews Tagged With: coming-of-age, Domestic Violence, Latvia, LGBTQ+, Official Oscar entry

Sanremo – Filling Emptiness

December 15, 2021 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

“Each day is a new day. We get up each morning and start again.”

That is especially true for the characters in Sanremo from director Miroslav Mandić. As dementia removes memories, it can make each day a horror, a challenge, or a wonder. Sanremo is Slovenia’s entry for Best International Film Oscar consideration.

Bruno and Duša live in the same senior home. At times they connect for breakfast, on in the arts room, or doing exercises. They enjoy each other, but each time it is as if they are meeting for the first time.

Bruno is a wanderer. When alone his mind goes back to his home, his wife, and his dog. He often escapes the facility and goes off to feed his long-gone dog. Duša is a bit more in a fog. She goes along with whatever activities are available. Bur she revels in the lawn sprinklers, standing in them looking up in wonder. Later, she does the same in a snowfall.

There is a poignancy to this story. It’s not quite a romance, but these two people with empty lives manage to find each other and enjoy one another, but cannot create an ongoing relationship. Yet, we sense that when they are apart, they feel the absence of the other, even if they don’t know what it is they miss.

There is great loss for these characters, to be sure. But as we watch Duša, we sense that there is a blessing in being able to be astonished by such simple things as water and snow. The world around us can indeed be hard and challenging. But sometimes, amidst those trials, we may be able to find something that will kindle wonder within our souls.

Sanremo is available on Film Movement Plus.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Filed Under: Film, Oscar Spotlight, Reviews Tagged With: dementia, Official Oscar entry, Slovenia

Blanco en Blanco: Cold Dark World

December 10, 2021 by Darrel Manson Leave a Comment

Blanco en Blanco, Chile’s submission for Best Foreign Film Oscar consideration, takes us into the cold, dark, empty environment of Tierra del Fuego at the turn of the 20th century. Director Théo Court creates a world in which the land and the people share a soul-numbing desolation.

The film centers on Pedro, a photographer, who has been hired to come to this remote area to take a wedding photo of the landowner’s soon to be child bride, Miss Sara. Strangely, the land owner, Mr. Porter, is absent throughout the movie, always busy on other business. This area, at the southern tip of South America is very much the end of the earth. As Pedro must wait for the wedding to take place, he is caught up in seeing the world around him. He discovers it is filled with people who are just as cold, dark, and empty as the land around them. He also discovers, and in time participates in, the genocide against the indigenous people of the area.

This languidly paced film is more than anything an example of excellence in cinematography. Whether inside the big house, or in the surrounding countryside, earth tones or stark white and grays fill the screen to show us the emptiness that defines the land and the people. This is a world that even in its violence, lacks any sense of passion. Pedro, especially seems to be nearly emotionless. He just exists. His only real concern is how to stage a photo perfectly (not unlike the centrality of cinematography in this film). Some of the most interesting shots are those that we see through his camera.

Of course, the social commentary of the film is about the colonialism that destroys those who have lived in this land for so many generations. When Pedro is asked to document the work being done, he is told that they are making history here by creating a homeland. (Obviously, a homeland for Europeans. It is already a homeland, but by those not recognized as true people.) Just as Pedro poses Miss Sara to make the young girl look sexually appealing, he later poses the corpses of the murdered people and their hunters to make the scene look noble. It reminds us that there is often much more behind the images we see than we know.

Blanco en Blanco is in limited release.

Photos courtesy of Outsider Pictures.

Filed Under: Film, Oscar Spotlight, Reviews Tagged With: Chile, colonialism, genocide, Official Oscar entry

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