Russian and English

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Sans Soleil

Personally, I am always impressed by how incredibly lauded some movies are. Except for one idiot who was all like “nothing happens in this movie”, it is probably safe to assume that everybody on Imdb reviewing the film was a movie lover, since only movie lovers would watch “Sans soleil”. Amongst those, the vast majority seems to be in love with the film. I agree that the film is beautiful and there is much to love here in terms of movie-making. Purely from an esthetic standpoint, Chris Marker is an amazing film-maker, and the way he makes connections between his different travels is thoughtful and interesting. However, Chris Marker seems to only look and think, but never actually interact with what he sees. He makes ivory-tower-style statements loaded with clichés because he doesn’t seem to ever even attempt some sort of understanding of these cultures he’s visited. Instead, he puts a layer of artsiness over it all, which may be interesting, but ultimately it’s painfully away from reality. This person pretty much nailed everything I could have said about my “ideological problems” with the film (scroll down a little for her review of “Sans Soleil”).

There was only one thing which I thought was awesome, one of those “oh I never noticed it but it’s so true” moments I love to discover in films. Chris Marker remarked that Japanese poems use adjectives sparingly (and, in conjunction with that, he also reminded me of the fact that Sei Shonagon – whom I prefer over Murasaki Shikibu – loved lists, just like me). I think this is true, and a lot of the beauty in Japanese poetry comes exactly from this fact. I don’t know a lot of those poems but their beauty used to strike me. Now I get why.

With that said, aren’t Sei Shonagon’s lists just marvelous? (Genji Monogatari’s excessive rapes are nothing compared to this.) To me, she is almost as inspiring as Italo Calvino’s “If on a winter’s night a traveler” was. Also, she’s meaner than Gossip Girl.

Besides certain details (cats and the references to “La Jetée” and to “Vertigo” within the film) there is not much worthwhile in this film, and most people are probably better off just seeing “La Jetée”, which is a masterpiece.

They weren’t lesbians!

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The Children’s Hour

The PIFF is over, but I actually saw this film before I left. Well, considering the fact that I have a lot to say about each one of those PIFF films, I wanted to give myself a break to blog about “The Children’s Hour” which, well, leaves me with almost nothing to say.

As Shirley MacLaine and Audrey Hepburn are two of my favorite actresses, it was obvious that I would see this film one day. Unfortunately I had this movie on my hard drive since something like 2007. Seven years later, I finally forced myself to see it, and remembered why it was so hard for me to pick it up in the first place. “The Children’s Hour” has a somewhat dated, noncommittal story and there is essentially nothing in the execution that I found outstanding, except for the lead actresses maybe. But if even those two cannot save the film and provide enjoyment nevertheless, then that’s quite an unprecedented low in a film.

With that said, I do think the direction is solid, but it doesn’t redeem the incredible boredom factor. Maybe other people were touched by this story or felt some sort of suspense, but it certainly didn’t work for me. All I remember is the main characters suffering and a little girl being very, very annoying. Heck, if it was me, I would swallow my pride and rob that old lady of all the money she has, and then leave for good. Even the future husband was all for it after all – I just don’t get why the characters acted that way I suppose.

Oh yeah, I think “The Children’s Hour” mostly cured me of my love for 50s clothing. I still love the silhouette, but lately the Betty Draper style is a little bit too feminine for my tastes. That’s the kind of bad influence it was! I wouldn’t recommend the film to anyone, not even those who are fans of the lead actresses like me.

Movie theaters must survive for films like this

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The Grand Budapest Hotel

I am currently revamping my room, which still looks like a children’s room: French books, manga, old posters, a black piano with plushies on top – if I walked into a room like this, I’d say it’s the room of a 16-year-old who goes to my old high school. I also found many, many memorabilia and random items, for which I did this: If I can remember the object and/or it’s stuff I wrote or made, then I would keep it. (The worst thing are actually the unsent letters to Loris – they are so embarrassing that I have to avert my eyes in horror after reading any random line. With that said, I also found Pixelmatsch’s and Pip’s old letters addressed to me… why are those always cute and well written?!)

I had all this time to re-do my room because I don’t have a ticket anymore, so I am essentially stuck at home. Last time I was in the city, I was dreaming about what I would do if I made a film. What would my style look like? There are so many films and so many styles I love, what would I choose? Well, the answer is pretty simple: A romantic comedy with serious undertones like late Lubitsch, characters like the Coen brothers, and finally, a style like Wes Anderson. Everybody and their hipster mother loves this style, but I am totally with the crowd there. On websites like Apartment Therapy someone snappily asserted that there is no such thing as timeless style, but people think it exists as some sort of amalgam between white kitchens and Wes Anderson’s style. However, if you think about it carefully, it’s simply true. The interior designs of a “Moonrise Kingdom” or a “Grand Budapest Hotel” will never, ever go out of style. The overuse of orange and yellow is beautiful at any time, and the suitcases of “Darjeeling Limited” would be stylish any time. (It’s even more shocking since Wes Anderson kind of looks like an awkward anime nerd… since I am an awkward anime nerd, maybe there is hope for us yet!)
A propos interior designs, I guess this is the time where I should come out and admit that I am obsessed with it. One thing I never understood is why people create color palettes, but for Wes Anderson’s style, for a change, it totally makes sense. I would like my life to be a Wes Anderson movie, please.

When I was asked about what I thought about “Grand Budapest Hotel”, I was a little overwhelmed by the question. Very quickly, however, I said: “It’s perfect”. Honestly, the movie is perfect: It has a great story, a fun cast, impeccable style, a humor full of heart and a typical Wes-Anderson-like optimism and love for the world, no matter how troubled and lonely its protagonists are. I cannot find a single fault with this film, if anything one may dislike the film for being too perfect, or for giving Mathieu Amalric a role which is way too small. To me, this film is the essence of what I want film-making to be – transporting you into a dream world, captivating you with lovely characters, throwing you into an intricate story, making you laugh and cry. The film has everything I think is fun – running gags with repeated exclamations (“Are you Gustave H…?”), almost supernatural luxuries (Mendl’s!) and action scenes in which the process and not the outcome is most amusing (the bob chase in the snow). If the Criterion Collection picks up this film, it would be the first on my list of next purchases. I got interested in Stefan Zweig’s works again, and since the whole film was shot in Germany, I have a strong desire to visit the places where the filmed the movie.

I was a little sad that we couldn’t see the film at the Berlinale, but in retrospect, having seen it at the International is almost better. Watch it.

PS. Speaking of having time: There are many, many movies I want to see, and the list of films I did not see at this year’s Berlinale is incredibly long. However, other things in life are more important right now. Besides the consumption of media, there is O and meeting friends (Lisbon!) and work and stupid bureaucracy. Amongst the time I allocate for the consumption of media, there are operas (which have priority over everything else), TV series and anime (which must be watched on a regular basis) as well as books and manga (which I have been neglecting in my life so I want to catch up on them again). In essence, even though movies are the non-human things I love the second most in life (after operas), I won’t be watching many of them anytime soon.

Edward Norton has a weird voice

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The Painted Veil

Mixed feelings about the film make me want to avoid blogging about it, but in all honesty I should say that I love it to pieces.

The mixed feelings are coming from this whole China thing. I don’t mind the beautiful scenery but I can’t help but think “What the heck are those white people doing in that idyllic landscape?” This is a little unfair to the film really. Much unlike your average “white people go to third world countries to find themselves” film, this film is honest about the damage of colonialism. The indigenous people are not just a pretty backdrop, there are actual conflicts with them and when they are shown as slaves or servants, it is always criticized. Also, both main characters try to help people (at some point) and rightfully become disillusioned about the motives of everybody who is there. Even though the nuns are being portrayed in a positive manner, the film is not afraid to point out that they are trying to “turn those children into little Catholics”. I really liked that, I think the film is really smart in portraying the China of 1925, and you can tell how much the people involved have studied this material. The film does not come with the usual superficiality and haughtiness of its genre, and the clichéd scenery shots in Guilin are just testament to how beautiful the country looks to the director and the producers. I read somewhere that Edward Norton wanted to make another “Out of Africa” but in reality “The Painted Veil” is nothing like it, and I am sure he is smart enough to know that too.

Story-wise, I absolutely loved the film. I liked all the changes they made to Maugham’s novel and I thought its execution was thoughtful and beautiful. The last scene with Townsend was also quite gratifying, so much more than the original book. Normally I am not a big fan of Hollywood turning a bleak story about human depravity into something more sentimental and lovely (unless it’s Game of Thrones where I think the books are just too bleak). “The Painted Veil”, however, works so much better as a story of people who hate each other slowly becoming closer when they get to know each other better. It’s a story of personal growth which happens slowly and in a believable manner, and I thought it was wonderfully romantic. This is amazing because I am a love at first sight type of person who is into steamy passion and typically disdains the idea of a slowly blossoming love, but “The Painted Veil” just may have changed my mind. Kitty says “As if a woman has ever loved a man for his virtue” in a derisive manner, and when we hear that we think it’s totally true, but we also know at this point in the film that this is exactly what happened to her. Like I said, I loved it.

I am also a huge fan of Edward Norton and Naomi Watts in this movie. I think you can tell that they were really into the story (both being producers for the show also), and I think that speaks highly for them. After it has been recommended to me by several people, I finally decided to watch this film after I had a random desire to see Edward Norton on screen again. He had an awesome role as the somewhat shy and lovesick, then serious and brutal, and then loving and protecting husband – I had so much fun watching that.

If anyone of you wants to watch a nice, hopelessly romantic love story, this is it. It seems that nobody seems to know about this movie, but at least it was a financial success.

In my heart, the Berlinale goes on forever

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Madame de…

After 10 days of Berlinale and the wonderful “Dodes’kaden”, I am recently feeling like watching meaningful films. Normally it’s the other way around, which is also why it took me so long to watch the movies on the Monolith, which, incidentally is not even my main harddrive anymore. After this film, there are only four left (“Life and nothing more”, “The River”, “Inland Empire” and “Satantango”).

This is my third Ophüls after “Lola Montès” and “Letter from an Unknown Woman”, and it is a little ironic that I still haven’t gotten around to see his Schnitzler adaptations. I doubt those will be as beautiful as his later films, especially “Madame de…” which is an almost Sofia-Coppola-like display of luxurious lives full of emptiness (ahh what a terrible pun). I thought that “Madame de…” is actually even more beautiful than “Lola Montès”. I thought the sets were ravishing and – oh I am saying this a little too often – but I want to live in the movie. I am totally aware that the film is a perfect example of how wealth and free time do not usually come with happiness, but that doesn’t keep me up from desiring it when Ophüls’s direction displays it so beautifully.
On an emotional level, I think the famous dance collage scene did its job really amazingly well. I could feel how their love was growing with every single turn and every single cut, and when she said “Je ne vous aime pas” for the first time, it was obviously the moment she actually falls in love. There is something very simplistic about the affair in this film, yet this iconic “Je ne vous aime pas” repeated over and over makes it awfully touching (at least it did for me). The film is a little bit of a more modern Madame Bovary, and I wish Flaubert’s novel got an amazing adaptation like this.

I am really curious about what Ophüls did with “Reigen” and “Liebelei”, heck I even want to re-read those two. One day, one day…

Berlinale 2014, Afterthoughts and statistics

27 movies in 10 days, thinking of this number makes me think of that one time we watched 12 movies in 24 hours. It was a rather special event and bumped up my movie consumption that year by a whole lot. In fact, we pretty much fell asleep through the last two films and I realize that I could never do it again. I am not even 30 years old but I know of things I could never do anymore! Sad.
I feel similar about the Berlinale, except that I wish I could do this every year now.

About one month after it happened, I look at it with fond memories, but I already see that they are less vivid than when it happened. In retrospect, things always turn out differently. Things we think made a huge emotional impact on our lives ended up not doing so, and vice versa. I thought that having gotten into a near-death car accident would change my life, but it didn’t. I thought that going through the intense pain of giving birth would change my life, but it didn’t. I thought that seeing so many inspiring films at the Berlinale would change my life, but it didn’t. I am Don Draper, I can’t become any better.

Even so, this year’s Berlinale was something I felt very strongly about for awhile. Going to movie theaters with friends is probably my favorite activity in the world, closely followed by discussing those movies right afterwards. For instance, Shii made a good point about how unusual the premise of “Ship Bun” is. I was immensely happy that Shii could come, and even though he missed out on a few good films (Bai Ri Yan Huo, Velvet Terrorists, Kraftidioten, Nymphomaniac, Chiisai Ouchi, The Midnight After) I think the days when Shii was there were definitely the best ones. To me, the smell of movie theaters is only surpassed by the smell of operas, and I love the reactions from the audience, especially the laughter in comedies. It all happened in this year’s Berlinale, and besides the cheap price it’s the reason why I go to the Berlinale in the first place.

The single most exciting event was probably watching “Calvary” in the Zoo Palast. Not only was the movie theater a revelation, we also were absolutely lucky to get in and, well, I got that autograph which made the whole movie theater stare at me for a few minutes. This kind of chain of fortuitous events typically does not happen to me.

The worst aspect of the Berlinale is the lack of sleep. Besides taking care of O at night, there were many nights when we got home at 1am or even later, and there were three days where I had a 9am or 9.30am screening. I can’t believe I survived it all without going crazy, or perhaps I have gone a little crazy, but more like in a drunken kind of way. When I am tired, I feel things more intensely and during the Berlinale those feelings were definitely on the positive side. I definitely think it helped feeling the films more intensely.

Finally, a few statistics, detailing how often we went to a certain venue, how many films we saw from each country and each section. The saddest thing is that we couldn’t see a single film at the International, but maybe we will catch “The Grand Budapest Hotel” there! That would be great.

Continue reading “Berlinale 2014, Afterthoughts and statistics”

Berlinale 2014, Day 10 (Nymphomaniac, Vol. 1)

A month after the Berlinale started, I am finally blogging about the last film. I had a feeling this would happen and I was a little afraid about it. Luckily I have a very vivid memory of “Nymphomaniac, Vol. 1” which ended up making quite an impact on me, I think.

Fittingly for the Berlinale, we were in the Berlinale Palast for the last film, sitting upstairs in the first row in the very middle. Lucky! As you can imagine, it actually provided a great view onto the screen and considering that the film was almost 2 1/2 hours long, this definitely helped.

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Nymphomaniac, Vol. 1 (long version)
Denmark/Germany/France/Belgium/Sweden 2013, Lars von Trier, 145’

On his way home, the old bachelor Seligman finds a woman beaten up and brings her to his home. When she gets better, she tells him the story of her life and how she became a nymphomaniac, as she diagnoses herself. Volume 1 covers the first five chapters, which detail her youth in which she competes with her best friend about who can get the most men to sleep with them; her first meeting with Jerome, the love of her life, an incident; her father’s death and finally how she meets Jerome again.
Death count: 1.

I read up on what happens in part 2, and I’m not liking it, especially the parts concerning Seligman. However, I haven’t seen it and if I see it I may change my mind, we’ll see. Here, we only saw the first part, and I have to say, I liked it. If you look beyond those explicit sex scenes (yeah yeah, they’re provocative etc., get over it, there’s not even that many of them), the characters in the story make a lot of sense. I don’t think Joe’s character is very common or typical or even “human”, if you want, but she must be seen as an individual. Most people in this world are not nymphomaniacs or anything like her, but her character is well-fleshed out, and so it is possible to relate to her. As somebody who is almost uncontrollably obsessed with sex and who seems to have an incredibly built-in desire for it, she is quite aware of what she is doing and what it means. The story is detailed as one in which she made her own choices – she may not have been very good at controlling her desires, but she had full control of her actions. My favorite part was the one with the crazy wife who intrudes into her life with her children and goes on a crying rampage. It was so damn realistic and I loved how Joe ends the story with the fact that it did not faze her emotionally at all. That part was just so fascinatingly realistic, and shows in a striking fashion what consequences her actions have on other people. The matter-of-fact way she talks about her “sins” is nice because honestly, if there is something people are usually absolutely cold about, it’s what happens to other people who sleep with the same person as you, most often those husbands or wives. It’s not even that psychopathic of her, it’s perfectly normal if we were honest about it. I think I am usually a rather compassionate person, but if some guy’s wife did that in my apartment, the only thing I would want to say to that would be “Get out.”
The realism and the subtle feminism (quite typical for Lars von Trier) are this film’s best aspects really. People are getting it wrong, he doesn’t hate women, he loves them.

My second favorite part of the story was the last one, in which she compares her lovers to different voices of an organ. One of them is Jerome, the love of her life. The film’s main quote is probably “The secret ingredient to sex is love”, but even though Jerome may be the only man amongst whom she loves, he is still only one of them, only a part of the “big picture”. It reminded me of analyses of the Don Juan character who I was extremely fascinated with when I was younger, and she is something like a reverse Don Juan with a psychology just as complex.

I really enjoyed seeing Stellan Skarsgard after “Kraftidioten”, especially since he is in such a different role here. Charlotte Gainsbourg not so much, but I don’t think there is any film in this world which could make me feel better about her. Her adoration of Lars von Trier’s dark side also creeps me out.

After disliking “Antichrist” and dropping “Melancholia” like 10 minutes into the film, I had surprisingly high expectations for “Nymphomaniac”, perhaps because of its premise and because I enjoy Lars von Trier’s provocations. I enjoyed the film and thought that it was rather interesting in the way it handled its heroine. At least in parts, Lars von Trier is in parts regaining the depths he has shown in his older films, like “Dogville” and “Idioterne”, and I am glad that he finally did after almost 10 years of dabbling when only his comedies (“Occupations” and “The boss of it all”) were good.

Berlinale 2014, Day 10 (Kraftidioten)

Pixelmatsch is a huge fan of Hans Petter Moland ever since he saw “En ganske snill man” at the Berlinale. I always thought that his Tarantino-like qualities were enticing, so “Kraftidioten” was a must for us to see, hence we got the Sunday tickets just to make sure.

I was already in the Friedrichstadtpalast for “La belle et la bete” right before, so I had the opportunity to secure pretty ideal seats for us. Yay!

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Kraftidioten (In Order of Disappearance)
Norway/Sweden/Denmark 2013, Hans Petter Moland, 115’

When Nils hears that his son supposedly died of a drug overdose, he doesn’t believe in it and vows to get behind what happened and take revenge. Behind everybody’s backs, he finds out about the mafia deals his son got into, and starts killing the people involved one by one until he finds Greven, the boss of the organization, a megalomaniac, organic-food-and-pink-cupcakes-obsessed eccentric who is not afraid of random killing. Greven mistakenly thinks the Serbian mafia are responsible for the murders of his men, who are now plotting his son’s kidnapping.
Death count: Hehe, if I could remember. If I had to guess, 15.

I recently read a comment from somebody saying that the Scandinavian culture is rooted in violence and sadism, as can be seen in films like Lars von Trier’s. If you add in all the death metal scene, I can easily why someone would think that way. But then again, by that logic all of Japan is made up of pedophiles and Koreans are just as into violence too. I would be careful making such assumptions, even if they seem to make sense at first glance. But the truth is that the majority of Japanese people probably has nothing to do with pedophilia, as manga and anime give a skewed view of the country. I suspect this is the same thing for Scandinavia’s supposed propensity for violence. It just so happens that the kinds of Lars von Trier and Hans Petter Moland make it to the Berlinale, and perhaps they do make better films than their colleagues, but more than anything they just make for better headlines. It’s just like what Park Chan-wook’s films do for Korean cinema, even though many others (Bong Joon-ho, Hong Sang-soo, Lee Chang-dong) are at least just as great.

Actually “Kraftidioten” is not even that violent. Sure there is a lot of death, and it’s part of the film’s title. But it’s a black comedy, and as such, “Kraftidioten” is even funnier than “The Midnight After”. The violence comes from the amount of people dying (a lot) and the circumstances they die in (pretty random), but it’s not like you see a lot of blood or anything. “Kraftidioten” draws a thin line between film noir, Scandinavian deadpan comedy and revenge film, so death is almost inevitable. On top of that, almost every death case is important to the plot or at least has been foreshadowed. It’s a very well-crafted, stringent plot in which nothing happens just randomly, even though I just said that people die in random fashion. I blame the English language – people die in this film almost without any reason (which makes it a little shocking and perhaps hard to watch), but within this story everything has its place and every single “disappearance” advances the plot. (Except at the end where I am glad that they all got wiped out.)

One of my favorite aspects of the film is its use of snow and the stunning Norwegian landscapes. There is so incredibly much of it, and Nils’s profession (plowing the snow to clear the streets) has something very fitting for the film. It’s like the snow is another comedic character in this film’s ensemble.

I want to see “En Ganske Snill Mann”, and my high expectations for “Kraftidioten” were fully met. I don’t think I have laughed this much in awhile.