In Werner Herzog's latest cinematic investigation, he rummages through endless plains of ice, and volcanic fire pits, making known some of Antarctica's most interesting misanthropes. But first he grandly presents, with rich blues and glowing corals, the literal underground world of Antarctica, the aquatic world beneath the ice. A world hardly tampered with, and commonly referred to among divers as a "sanctuary." It is a meditative display of a mysterious, barely accessible habitat penetrated by few. Though this film isn't about the natural history of Antarctica, Herzog relentlessly shares the beauty of its landscapes, and admits that its natural beauty was his initial motivation for filming there.
It seems as if (rightfully) Herzog can't decide for himself whether the small community of McMurdo (population approximately 1000) offers a healthy dose of solace for five months of the year or functions as a source of "corrosive isolation." There is Douglas MacAyeal, a well-rounded glaciologist who views glaciers as a dynamic entity providing change. The diver, Henry Kaiser, who speaks of career fulfillment, and reflects on how he should retire soon to make room for the younger generation of explorers. Then there is William Jirsa, a young, educated linguist who finds bliss on a continent with no language, a land where PhDs become line cooks.
Herzog, though clearly proclaiming that this is not another film about penguins, does include a segment where he studies their behaviors with marine ecologist, David Ainley. David Ainley tells tales of prostitution between penguins for rocks, triangular relationships and other unexpected habits he's observed among the colony. In a moment of more grave mirroring behaviors, one penguin breaks away from its colony and heads for the mountains to "certain death."
Herzog has taken an enviable approach to filming the little known community of Antarctica. His approach is intuitive, humane, cynical yet still inclusive of the scientific community and the research they yield. He ties together a very small community and presents it on a global scale without losing intimacy with his subjects. He provides an interesting platform where global warming and women who travel across South America in a sewer pipe are equally fascinating.
His narration courageously adds humor to situations where few would be able to do so for themselves. His nondiscriminatory curiosity leads us into the life of a descendant of Aztec royalty who proudly displays his uniquely sized fingers. His refusal to impose how to go about finding a theme during production leads us into a research laboratory devoted to finding a Nutrino with the highest energy level. Science and art weave together creating one of Herzog's strongest films to date. Encounters at the End of the World is definitely one of the most sincere yet powerful documentaries ever made.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
My Winnipeg (2007)
Winnipeg is the capital and largest city in Manitoba. Occasionally, you'll hear a somewhat dry fact tossed out from Guy Maddin's narrative in his new "docu-fantasia" film, My Winnipeg, but mostly, you'll be taken into the depths of Maddin's subjective perspective of the city he's inhabited for the duration of his life. Maddin spews out questions like "How to find one's way out?" that juxtapose scenes of nostalgia. Old Winnipeggers dance, skate, and work us into screeching train whistles and foggy rails.
Passed-out train passengers take us in what feels like present day, though the aesthetic feels of something shot sixty years ago. The entire film is in black-and-white and grainy. Sleeping passengers and Maddin's repetitive chants of "The Red, the Forks, the lap" trance you into a sort of sleep/wake moment. Suitable for a city that Maddin claims has ten times the sleep walking rate than anywhere else in the world. Fact or fiction? one can't be sure, but it is convincing enough on the screen. Rich blacks, and greys contrasted by the white landscape result in a soft early morning, wintry light.
Then we are introduced to Mother (Ann Savage.) Several reenactments of Maddin's childhood memories- or character interpretations of various family members take place. "Was it the boy on the track or the man with the tire iron?" asks Mother when her daughter, Janet, comes home with fur and blood on the bumper of her car. "There are no such things as accidents," claims Mother just before accusing her daughter of sleeping with the boy on the track or the man with the tire iron. Traumatic? Not as traumatic as it could be or one would like it to be.
Maddin's meshing of histories, of reality and perspective, though interesting seems feigned at moments. His personal history isn't ever truly confessed in the sense of full realization of why he's bothered to film dramatized versions of stuff we aren't really sure took place or not. Do we care? Enough to be amused at Mayor Cornish wearing a Santa beard and admiring muscular, half-nude men, and certainly enough to watch the entirety of the 80 minute feature. Enough to not enjoy the he claim that everyone in the film is a hired actor, except for his Mother, but maybe not enough to feel like something of true value came out of this work except for a decent, finished feature.
The end seems just as the beginning did in terms of character. The city has changed, naturally, an evolution of architecture, and commerce distracted by unwise demolition does occur over a period of nearly a century. But the Winnipeggers seem as they did in the beginning, to continue on half-sleeping through life as Maddin asks "Who's alive? Who's alive?"
Passed-out train passengers take us in what feels like present day, though the aesthetic feels of something shot sixty years ago. The entire film is in black-and-white and grainy. Sleeping passengers and Maddin's repetitive chants of "The Red, the Forks, the lap" trance you into a sort of sleep/wake moment. Suitable for a city that Maddin claims has ten times the sleep walking rate than anywhere else in the world. Fact or fiction? one can't be sure, but it is convincing enough on the screen. Rich blacks, and greys contrasted by the white landscape result in a soft early morning, wintry light.
Then we are introduced to Mother (Ann Savage.) Several reenactments of Maddin's childhood memories- or character interpretations of various family members take place. "Was it the boy on the track or the man with the tire iron?" asks Mother when her daughter, Janet, comes home with fur and blood on the bumper of her car. "There are no such things as accidents," claims Mother just before accusing her daughter of sleeping with the boy on the track or the man with the tire iron. Traumatic? Not as traumatic as it could be or one would like it to be.
Maddin's meshing of histories, of reality and perspective, though interesting seems feigned at moments. His personal history isn't ever truly confessed in the sense of full realization of why he's bothered to film dramatized versions of stuff we aren't really sure took place or not. Do we care? Enough to be amused at Mayor Cornish wearing a Santa beard and admiring muscular, half-nude men, and certainly enough to watch the entirety of the 80 minute feature. Enough to not enjoy the he claim that everyone in the film is a hired actor, except for his Mother, but maybe not enough to feel like something of true value came out of this work except for a decent, finished feature.
The end seems just as the beginning did in terms of character. The city has changed, naturally, an evolution of architecture, and commerce distracted by unwise demolition does occur over a period of nearly a century. But the Winnipeggers seem as they did in the beginning, to continue on half-sleeping through life as Maddin asks "Who's alive? Who's alive?"
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Mister Lonely (2008)
Mister Lonely is a bold, twisted stint at Harmony Korine's version of an inspirational film. The use of immortal personalities ranging from Madonna to The Pope is entertaining, but seems gimmicky when thought of as visual metaphor. Nonetheless, when thought of as "regular" metaphor, the film sets a unique platform for a pertinent critique on individual and media. It brings us into the lives of unenlightened slackers whose mental health is overshadowed by what seems like an almost mirage of a commune inhabited by those who choose a light-hearted lifestyle, but quickly morphs into a mere haven for freaks and losers.
When a vagabond Michael Jackson impersonator (Diego Luna) meets a Marilyn Monroe impersonator (Samantha Morton) in the midst of a retirement home gig in Paris, love forms. After a leisurely afternoon together, Marilyn offers Michael the opportunity to live in an impersonator commune in Scotland with her husband Charlie Chaplin (Denis Lavant), daughter Shirley Temple (Esme Creed-Miles,) and a lengthy list of other unreal personas.
Michael hesitantly accepts, and soon finds himself on a plush green island with a gorgeous Scottish castle, hot spring, and farm. Shortly thereafter, a vague feeling of isolation sets in. Sadness supersedes the vibrant environment when the portrait of an impersonator is colored in for us. But then this internal lack of self-worth is strangely counteracted by a pack of nuns led by Father Umbrillo (Werner Herzog.) Nuns fly, miracles ensue, peoples lives change, and truth slowly surfaces.
Living in the past is a common phenomenon, whether channeled out by sentimental reminiscence or embodying the appearance of a celebrity well past his or her prime (or no longer living,) everybody does it at least some of the time. All Harmony Korine is trying to say is don't do it. It's so uninspired.
When a vagabond Michael Jackson impersonator (Diego Luna) meets a Marilyn Monroe impersonator (Samantha Morton) in the midst of a retirement home gig in Paris, love forms. After a leisurely afternoon together, Marilyn offers Michael the opportunity to live in an impersonator commune in Scotland with her husband Charlie Chaplin (Denis Lavant), daughter Shirley Temple (Esme Creed-Miles,) and a lengthy list of other unreal personas.
Michael hesitantly accepts, and soon finds himself on a plush green island with a gorgeous Scottish castle, hot spring, and farm. Shortly thereafter, a vague feeling of isolation sets in. Sadness supersedes the vibrant environment when the portrait of an impersonator is colored in for us. But then this internal lack of self-worth is strangely counteracted by a pack of nuns led by Father Umbrillo (Werner Herzog.) Nuns fly, miracles ensue, peoples lives change, and truth slowly surfaces.
Living in the past is a common phenomenon, whether channeled out by sentimental reminiscence or embodying the appearance of a celebrity well past his or her prime (or no longer living,) everybody does it at least some of the time. All Harmony Korine is trying to say is don't do it. It's so uninspired.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Going On 13
Going On 13 is a documentary that follows four prepubescent girls residing in the Bay Area for four solid years, starting at age 9 and ending at age 13. Through the years, we're exposed to the to the sometimes unpredictable changes that occur in the preteen's mental growth. The film was shot Verite, which seemed to contribute to both its tone of naivety but also to an awkward mixture of episodic aimlessness branched only by the common thread of disadvantaged inner city girls.
Isha, a first-generation Indian-American, battles with the dangerously stagnating beliefs of her family. She also lacks literal space and privacy normally craved by children of that age. Due to her live-in extended family consisting of grandparents and aunts, Isha sleeps in her make-shift bedroom also known as the living room. Her mother lovingly defends her against racist bullies at school, but overtime we see Isha develop into someone more extroverted - someone with great potential for wild tendencies.
Ariana, a defiant Black tomboy, plays basketball, beats up boys, and gets suspended. She seems like the type of girl that would be put away in JD hall by age 13, but grows into someone refreshingly determined to succeed. Ariana has dreams of becoming a lawyer, and begins to pursue those dreams by transforming herself into someone who makes the grade and gets on the honor role.
Esmeralda, an overweight Mexican, struggles with her appearance more than the other girls. She's painfully aware of her weight, and unhappy with her overall physical appearance but doesn't have the capacity to do anything about. The admiration of Jermaine, her first boyfriend (who oddly doesn't appear in the film) gives her a much-needed boast of self-confidence. Esmeralda has lofty dreams of one day becoming a real estate agent. Sadly, she seems to be mesmerized by pop-culture more than the others and affected by it in a way that isn't terribly positive.
Rosie, the most precocious of them all, struggles with an unstable mother plagued by Post-Traumatic Stress syndrome. She does terribly in school for a while - a mixture of boredom and emotional strain resulting in a lackluster performance. But ultimately, she grows into a budding intellectual devouring nearly two books a day, and vocalizes a desire to start college early. Rosie seems to be heading in the direction of an artist or humanitarian.
As interesting as the four subjects are, the reality TV/episodic pacing of the documentary made it feel nearly superficial at times; thus, subtracting for its potential to be truly moving. Sometimes films shot mostly Verite lack the boldness of a director who might be more apt to investigate deeper waters. The score also has a gimmicky cuteness to it that is at best annoying.
The intention of filming children at an age where mainstream media normally wouldn't tap with a ten-foot boom pole is an aspect worth some recognition. Though, it perhaps would have had more depth if they had also focused on the subject's parents, or slightly older teens, who could reflect on a time period better forgotten by most. It also would have been interesting if they had focused on upper class children. This may have been the much-needed dimension that could have transformed this briefing of four girls' lives into a psychological study of environment, economics and age.
Directed by Kristy Guevara-Flanagan and Dawn Valadez
Going on 13 trailer
Isha, a first-generation Indian-American, battles with the dangerously stagnating beliefs of her family. She also lacks literal space and privacy normally craved by children of that age. Due to her live-in extended family consisting of grandparents and aunts, Isha sleeps in her make-shift bedroom also known as the living room. Her mother lovingly defends her against racist bullies at school, but overtime we see Isha develop into someone more extroverted - someone with great potential for wild tendencies.
Ariana, a defiant Black tomboy, plays basketball, beats up boys, and gets suspended. She seems like the type of girl that would be put away in JD hall by age 13, but grows into someone refreshingly determined to succeed. Ariana has dreams of becoming a lawyer, and begins to pursue those dreams by transforming herself into someone who makes the grade and gets on the honor role.
Esmeralda, an overweight Mexican, struggles with her appearance more than the other girls. She's painfully aware of her weight, and unhappy with her overall physical appearance but doesn't have the capacity to do anything about. The admiration of Jermaine, her first boyfriend (who oddly doesn't appear in the film) gives her a much-needed boast of self-confidence. Esmeralda has lofty dreams of one day becoming a real estate agent. Sadly, she seems to be mesmerized by pop-culture more than the others and affected by it in a way that isn't terribly positive.
Rosie, the most precocious of them all, struggles with an unstable mother plagued by Post-Traumatic Stress syndrome. She does terribly in school for a while - a mixture of boredom and emotional strain resulting in a lackluster performance. But ultimately, she grows into a budding intellectual devouring nearly two books a day, and vocalizes a desire to start college early. Rosie seems to be heading in the direction of an artist or humanitarian.
As interesting as the four subjects are, the reality TV/episodic pacing of the documentary made it feel nearly superficial at times; thus, subtracting for its potential to be truly moving. Sometimes films shot mostly Verite lack the boldness of a director who might be more apt to investigate deeper waters. The score also has a gimmicky cuteness to it that is at best annoying.
The intention of filming children at an age where mainstream media normally wouldn't tap with a ten-foot boom pole is an aspect worth some recognition. Though, it perhaps would have had more depth if they had also focused on the subject's parents, or slightly older teens, who could reflect on a time period better forgotten by most. It also would have been interesting if they had focused on upper class children. This may have been the much-needed dimension that could have transformed this briefing of four girls' lives into a psychological study of environment, economics and age.
Directed by Kristy Guevara-Flanagan and Dawn Valadez
Going on 13 trailer
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Les Chansons d'amour (Love Songs) 2007
Les Chansons d'amour revisits the era of musical film with a modernity that is probably overwhelming for the majority of the universe. It may be less universal than the The Wizard of Oz, but its message is similar. Les Chansons d'amour is a melodramatic French flick about self-discovery - but focusing on the fluidity of sexuality. If you watch this film in hopes of viewing soft-core orgies, you're better off staying on the web.
Scenes of grey Paris complimented with a blue hue introduce us to "Part I: The Departure." Julie (Ludivine Sagnier), a stylish 20something, goes on line to buy a movie ticket. She makes a call. Ismael (Louis Garrel), her live-in boyfriend, picks up on the other end. He's at work flirting with their perky third, Alice (Clotilde Hesme.) As a comical self-referential twist, after asking Julie what film she's going to see, he states he is seriously so offended that she's going to see that.
Later, all three are together, and what happens rings true. Ismael and Alice fight for who gets to sleep in the middle. Ismael feels left out after seeing Alice jump Julie. The feelings of inadequacy expressed through friendly rival is how they mostly interact. In another scene, Alice shakes her head between the both of them when she sings "I love no one but you" in the damp, cobblestone streets after they leave a bar together.
Sadly, this act ends with one of them out of the picture permanently. One might think that this means the conflict ends, but for Ismael it just begins. Going any further would mean plot spoilers, but let's just say all of the controversy remains in the picture. But let's just also say that the trailer is highly misleading, a product of flawless marketing tactics.
Les Chansons d'amour is "French" in a very good way. The scores are not always as well developed as one would like, but they're good enough. When Ismael and Julie perform together they sound like Gainsbourg and Birkin at times. Musical films generally use song to amplify the most dramatic of moments. I don't think Les Chansons followed that structure completely, but probably for the better. At moments, breaking into musical numbers felt a little awkward - which was the overall tone of the film.
Written and Directed by Christophe Honore
Scenes of grey Paris complimented with a blue hue introduce us to "Part I: The Departure." Julie (Ludivine Sagnier), a stylish 20something, goes on line to buy a movie ticket. She makes a call. Ismael (Louis Garrel), her live-in boyfriend, picks up on the other end. He's at work flirting with their perky third, Alice (Clotilde Hesme.) As a comical self-referential twist, after asking Julie what film she's going to see, he states he is seriously so offended that she's going to see that.
Later, all three are together, and what happens rings true. Ismael and Alice fight for who gets to sleep in the middle. Ismael feels left out after seeing Alice jump Julie. The feelings of inadequacy expressed through friendly rival is how they mostly interact. In another scene, Alice shakes her head between the both of them when she sings "I love no one but you" in the damp, cobblestone streets after they leave a bar together.
Sadly, this act ends with one of them out of the picture permanently. One might think that this means the conflict ends, but for Ismael it just begins. Going any further would mean plot spoilers, but let's just say all of the controversy remains in the picture. But let's just also say that the trailer is highly misleading, a product of flawless marketing tactics.
Les Chansons d'amour is "French" in a very good way. The scores are not always as well developed as one would like, but they're good enough. When Ismael and Julie perform together they sound like Gainsbourg and Birkin at times. Musical films generally use song to amplify the most dramatic of moments. I don't think Les Chansons followed that structure completely, but probably for the better. At moments, breaking into musical numbers felt a little awkward - which was the overall tone of the film.
Written and Directed by Christophe Honore
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Funny Games (2008)
Funny Games lacks a playful element which subtracts from its "game" element; additionally, it isn't clever enough to truly be considered funny. I've never watched Haneke's original German version, but it's apparently exactly the same - except for the cast, of course. Why remake it then? The answer: self-indulgence.
The film opens with a timely, likable tone. Bold red text, classical music segued into an onslaught of booming death metal, all lightly poking fun at rich, white folk. It plays out like a well-funded, wide-eyed art school auteur cut his heart out, and let it splatter all over the screen.
Ann (Naomi Watts), George (Tim Roth), and their eight-year old son, Georgie (Devon Gearhart) head out to their vacation home in Head of the Harbor, Long Island. A peaceful, almost rural affluent community. During the drive, they play a charming little game of "name that classical composer." Things seem normal enough (except for the explosive death metal score) until they see their relative and neighbor Uncle Fred (Boyd Gaines) and his family playing an unusually grave and rigid game of golf on the front lawn. Ann asks if Fred would be so kind as to help George launch their boat at their dock.
Fred dutifully arrives at their home twenty-minutes later (as requested) with Peter (Brady Corbet) who is oddly equipped with white gloves. Of course, George, Georgie and Ann don't seem to notice nor does George regard Fred's scattered behavior as strange. Peter has his in, and, well, the game begins.
Broken eggs, and knees follow - along with implausible situations. Land lines are apparently obsolete in present-day estates due to flawless cell-phone reception, and, I don't know, a lack of cable/phone/internet combo plans? Oh, and rich white men also lack instinct, and logic - this may be true if they aren't self-made, but of course, we don't get that far into character in "Funny Games." We're too busy being entertained by creepy sociopaths, Paul (Michael Pitt) and Peter (Brady Corbet.)
Funny Games feels like an underdeveloped genre bender. It's pacing is too slow to truly feel like a horror film - there are no armrest-clutching moments. Its characters aren't dissected enough (nor sophisticated enough) to play out like a psychological thriller. Funny Games also includes about one minute of wall-breaking sci-fi - a backwards attempt at adding another dimension to Haneke's dissertation about violence in cinema.
Ultimately, I left the theatre thinking that Naomi Watts is crazier than meets the eye for both starring in and producing this. The acting and the cinematography were both flawless, but the film was made for the director - not the audience.
Written and Directed by Michael Haneke
The film opens with a timely, likable tone. Bold red text, classical music segued into an onslaught of booming death metal, all lightly poking fun at rich, white folk. It plays out like a well-funded, wide-eyed art school auteur cut his heart out, and let it splatter all over the screen.
Ann (Naomi Watts), George (Tim Roth), and their eight-year old son, Georgie (Devon Gearhart) head out to their vacation home in Head of the Harbor, Long Island. A peaceful, almost rural affluent community. During the drive, they play a charming little game of "name that classical composer." Things seem normal enough (except for the explosive death metal score) until they see their relative and neighbor Uncle Fred (Boyd Gaines) and his family playing an unusually grave and rigid game of golf on the front lawn. Ann asks if Fred would be so kind as to help George launch their boat at their dock.
Fred dutifully arrives at their home twenty-minutes later (as requested) with Peter (Brady Corbet) who is oddly equipped with white gloves. Of course, George, Georgie and Ann don't seem to notice nor does George regard Fred's scattered behavior as strange. Peter has his in, and, well, the game begins.
Broken eggs, and knees follow - along with implausible situations. Land lines are apparently obsolete in present-day estates due to flawless cell-phone reception, and, I don't know, a lack of cable/phone/internet combo plans? Oh, and rich white men also lack instinct, and logic - this may be true if they aren't self-made, but of course, we don't get that far into character in "Funny Games." We're too busy being entertained by creepy sociopaths, Paul (Michael Pitt) and Peter (Brady Corbet.)
Funny Games feels like an underdeveloped genre bender. It's pacing is too slow to truly feel like a horror film - there are no armrest-clutching moments. Its characters aren't dissected enough (nor sophisticated enough) to play out like a psychological thriller. Funny Games also includes about one minute of wall-breaking sci-fi - a backwards attempt at adding another dimension to Haneke's dissertation about violence in cinema.
Ultimately, I left the theatre thinking that Naomi Watts is crazier than meets the eye for both starring in and producing this. The acting and the cinematography were both flawless, but the film was made for the director - not the audience.
Written and Directed by Michael Haneke
Saturday, February 9, 2008
The Band's Visit (Bikur Ha-Tizmoret) 2007
An Egyptian police band, due to perform at the Arab Cultural Center in Beta Tikva, experiences life in a Israeli town when they find themselves stranded in a small town called Biet Haktiva instead. Biet Haktiva has no hotels, but the band is lucky enough to be offered shelter by lascivious restaurant owner, Dina (Ronit Elkabetz,) and awkward regular, Itzik (Rubi Moskovitz.)
Half of the band goes to Itzik's house, and solemnly celebrates his wife's birthday with Itzik's family. Both Itzik's family and the band twist their oral biographies to sound more impressive; thus, taking advantage of the language barrier. This only adds more tension (especially within Itzik's family) and creates an almost hostile environment. Then, gentle Simon (Khalifa Natour) serenades them with his unfinished overture for concerto on his clarinet. The only one that seems to appreciate it is Itzik. Regardless of the unpleasantness created by others, Simon and Itzik find meaning in one another despite their ephemeral interaction.
The other half of the band is divided up even further due to space issues. Two of them stay in Dina's restaurant and sleep on the floor, while the other two stay in her apartment. Khaled (Saleh Bakri,) a lady's man who serenades women he fancies with a
Chet Baker tune, is forced to go with the authoritative band leader, Tawfiq (Sasson Gabai,) who feels he needs to make sure he stays out of trouble. Dina finds herself drawn to the old-fashioned Lieutenant-colonel, Tawfiq Zacharya and takes him out for a quiet night on the town where they begin to understand each other and develop a deeper fondness for one another. Eventually Khaled, left alone in Dina's apartment, finds himself bored of chugging from an airport-sized bottle of booze, goes back to the restaurant, and finds Papi (Shlomi Avraham) who is rather reluctant to take Khaled out on a double date. But the persistent Khaled gets his way...much to Papi's advantage.
The Band's Visit is optimistic in its message, and demonstrates how simple it is to look past ethnic boundaries and crippling assumptions, and how similar people really are at the core. Perhaps Simon's unfinished concerto is symbolic of a sort of history in the making. The coming of an era of peace and tolerance. The Band's Visit is filled with humble poetic moments that reference anything from Shakespeare to Wes Anderson, yet finishes with a voice of its own. Writer/Director Eran Kolirin does what any good filmmaker aspires to do, he deals with very serious issues without hitting you over the head with them. More than 50% of the dialogue is in broken English, which makes for great pop references, and the rest is in Arabic and Hebrew. Definitely a must-see.
Half of the band goes to Itzik's house, and solemnly celebrates his wife's birthday with Itzik's family. Both Itzik's family and the band twist their oral biographies to sound more impressive; thus, taking advantage of the language barrier. This only adds more tension (especially within Itzik's family) and creates an almost hostile environment. Then, gentle Simon (Khalifa Natour) serenades them with his unfinished overture for concerto on his clarinet. The only one that seems to appreciate it is Itzik. Regardless of the unpleasantness created by others, Simon and Itzik find meaning in one another despite their ephemeral interaction.
The other half of the band is divided up even further due to space issues. Two of them stay in Dina's restaurant and sleep on the floor, while the other two stay in her apartment. Khaled (Saleh Bakri,) a lady's man who serenades women he fancies with a
Chet Baker tune, is forced to go with the authoritative band leader, Tawfiq (Sasson Gabai,) who feels he needs to make sure he stays out of trouble. Dina finds herself drawn to the old-fashioned Lieutenant-colonel, Tawfiq Zacharya and takes him out for a quiet night on the town where they begin to understand each other and develop a deeper fondness for one another. Eventually Khaled, left alone in Dina's apartment, finds himself bored of chugging from an airport-sized bottle of booze, goes back to the restaurant, and finds Papi (Shlomi Avraham) who is rather reluctant to take Khaled out on a double date. But the persistent Khaled gets his way...much to Papi's advantage.
The Band's Visit is optimistic in its message, and demonstrates how simple it is to look past ethnic boundaries and crippling assumptions, and how similar people really are at the core. Perhaps Simon's unfinished concerto is symbolic of a sort of history in the making. The coming of an era of peace and tolerance. The Band's Visit is filled with humble poetic moments that reference anything from Shakespeare to Wes Anderson, yet finishes with a voice of its own. Writer/Director Eran Kolirin does what any good filmmaker aspires to do, he deals with very serious issues without hitting you over the head with them. More than 50% of the dialogue is in broken English, which makes for great pop references, and the rest is in Arabic and Hebrew. Definitely a must-see.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)