Principio y Fin (1993) Arturo Ripstein

Despite the fact that he's commonly underrated by the Mexican audience and critics,  Arturo Ripstein is definitely one of the best Mexican filmmakers.  From all his movies I've watched, I think Principio y Fin is my favorite.  There's no doubt that it's completely sick and depraved, but I think that's what makes it so good, it isn't shy about its own essence, but rather upfront and forward about it.



I have to say that the beginning isn't that good, actually it's awful...it feels overacted and over-dramatized.  I think it was a risky choice to begin with the father's death, since it's hard to empathize with the suffering of strangers... and when you get too close too fast to the suffering of others, their reactions tend to feel too real and it becomes awkward.  

The movie begins to take shape during the sequence of the brothel and the carousel and Guama singing... the whole scene is beautifully decadent.  The place, the drawings of naked women in the walls, the people, the darkness, the song, the long take, the movement of the camera perfectly well-done... And from that moment on the movie starts to rise, and until the very last minute it never lets you down.

It's amazing that being such a long film, and filled with all those long takes, it doesn't get boring or tiring.  The truth is most of the long takes are simply brilliant.  I mean, you might not like the movie, you might find it too raw or something, but you gotta give Ripstein credit for the way he moves the camera... the way he choreographs all his scenes... he really knows what he's doing.

Ripstein keeps pushing you to the edge, all the time testing your limits... the whole sexual tension latent between, and throughout, the whole family... the scene where Nicolás and Isabel start a sexual foreplay in front of her sick dad, the scene where Gabo unvirginzes his own girlfriend against her will with his fingers and then makes a joke about the whole thing, the way Gabo asks his sister to kill herself in order to regain the family (or may I say, his own) pride.  It's abominable, that last scene is simply tragical... the whole movie has this aura of a Greek tragedy... I guess that's the only way it could have ended.

Interno (2010) Andrea Borbolla

In a country where most of the cinema that's being created is negatively violent, it's a relief to find someone with the ability to approach in such a positive way, a subject which is so dark by nature... life in prison.  I had heard very good critics about this documentary, but I was very skeptic.  I'm glad to say it proved me wrong.



I really enjoyed watching it.  It has a very clear and progressive structure, which I always appreciate.  But the thing I liked most, was the way Andrea was able to connect with the prisoners.  They let her, and her crew, into their lives, and their crimes, their fears and regrets.  You get to see the human side all criminals have, but we rather dismiss, since it's easier to think of them as social scum, than to admit they are nothing but confused human beings, just like we are.

I think this documentary teaches us a great lesson about life, freedom and spirituality.  It confronts our already established ideas, and hopes to open us to a different way of relating to life.  I've never considered myself to be a spiritual person, but I have to be honest, this documentary really moved me into reconsidering it as a way of life. 

Some people say the documentary is too optimistic, too positive... it makes me wonder why is it that we find it so hard to believe life can sometimes be that way?  why doesn't anybody reproach when a documentary shows the negative side?  We tend to consider it to be critical, which has a positive connotation, instead of naive, which has a negative connotation.

The only thing I didn't like was the title in spanish, but I think that in english works very well... Within... like the Beatle's song... Life goes on within you or without you...

Two Coffees (2010) Talía Aach / If We Are Still Alive (2010) Juliana Fanjul

These two shortfilms are thesis of the Escuela Internacional de Cine y Televisión de San Antonio de los Baños (EICTV).  The truth one should never expect too much of a student's film, they always seem to be missing something.  Curiously enough, that was true only for one of them.  Here it goes.


Two Coffees.

It's a regular student film.  There's not much to it.  The sound recording is not good, you can barely understand a word they're saying.  It's true... they are old and Cuban, but still, one should be able to understand the mumbling.  The film has some good frames, but also some huge mistakes in exposition.  Leaving aside the technical aspects, I think in general the story doesn't work.  The film ends and one is still trying to understand what was it that the director wanted to tell with it... nothing really happens... of course the old man and the old woman are wonderful, but that has all to do with them being themselves, and nothing to do with the documentary being good.  In conclusion, I did not like it.


If We Are Still Alive

It's a morbid, and to a certain extent, obscene picture of old age.  It's simply fascinating.  It has a very Frederick Wiseman-like style, which I absolutely love.  It confronts us with the desperate reality of having to turn gray and old.  Technically it's great.  I loved the use of the long-lenses and the chiaroscuro, it helps generate the proper atmosphere for the story that's evolving underneath.  Overall, I find it to be a great shortfilm.  It moves you... generates doubts, opinions, and discussions, the way all films should... Loved it.

Closely Watched Trains (1966) Jirí Menzel

I love this film.  I simply do.  I find it to be truly sincere and honest.  It's real and unpretentious... it just is what it is... and that's what I love most about this film.  Jirí Menzel doesn't pretend to have all the answers, he doesn't try to persuade you of thinking the way he does, he doesn't show off or try to get you to admire him, he simply shows you life in one of its many representations and that's it, he's happy just by telling you this story, there's no secret agenda.



The main character, Milos, is simple wonderful.  He's so genuine.  It's almost as if he were being himself in front of the camera.  All that clumsiness in his sexual awakening is tenderly tragical.  At the same time it's impossible not to relate to those feelings of failure and doubt, we've all experienced them and we all know what it's like to feel like we're not properly designed for this life, it's terrifying... feeling you're alone in your own bizarreness.

The story unfolds itself naturally.  Menzel makes it seem as if making films filled with life were easy and simple... In every take, in every actor, in every conflict, life is there... the film is simply brilliant! I have nothing but good things to say about it.

Love Conquers All (2006) Tan Chui Mui

I have nothing against slow movies, or fixed cameras, or low-budget films.  But this film, I think I didn't understand... or maybe I just didn't understand the reason why the director thought it was a story worth telling.  The truth is I got bored watching it.  I kept on thinking it was about to get interesting, but that moment never arrived.  I didn't empathize with the characters and the vision of life it describes is a little too cynical and frivolous for my taste... depressing I'd say.  The film finally ends, but nothing changes... you're still trying to tie all those loose ends the director left...  What was it about?  A bizarre love story? just a time in the life of someone else?  I don't know... maybe I'm just not smart enough for this type of films.

Rehje (2009) Raúl Cuesta and Anais Huerta

The first time I tried to watch this documentary I decided to turn it off instead.  A couple of months later I had to watch it as part of my job.  The truth is, the second time,  I didn't find it as unbearable as I had the first.  Still, I didn't like it.

 

Antonia is quite a character and her story is very interesting indeed, but I found her voice-over excessive and a little tiring, as well as boring.  I would've enjoyed more close-ups, more of Antonia living her life, instead of just listening to her tell it.  I felt as if the directors had had many recordings of Antonia's voice, but no real image to link it to, so they had decided to put in some landscapes and let the voice fill in the holes.  In the end, I don't think it works.  I believe you can tell, that the fact that they ended up with this documentary is merely chance, since, as they admitted, they were originally trying to do a documentary on drought.

The documentary's techniques are all over the place, which makes it lack a style. That, I find disturbing but I can learn to live with it, but the fact that I never felt connected to the character, and that I couldn't never really empathize with her... that, is what makes me think that the documentary doesn't work.

Vertigo (1958) Alfred Hitchcock

Despite it not being successful when it was first released in the U.S. nowadays, most critics firmly believe this is Hitchock's best film, Chris Marker honored it in Sans Soleil, and nobody can deny, the Vertigo Zoom has done wonders for thrillers.  It is, without a doubt, one of the best films ever made.

 

One of my favorite scenes is when Scottie and Madeleine are at the forest observing the rings on the trunk of the tree.  The way she points at the moment she was born and at the moment she died, then says "it was only an instant to you", as if she were speaking to the tree... but is she really speaking to the tree? or is she referring to the tree just because it is the closest and most tangible example she has of eternity?  which is quite a complex concept...

In Vertigo time changes texture.  It becomes  liquid, one can't apprehend it anymore, one becomes aware of that... all of the sudden we're dead, just like Madeleine, because time kept on flowing, and it arrived at our death, but kept on flowing, leaving us only with the trace of the path we must follow to arrive at our death just in time.

What about the spiral?  in the trunk, in the titles, in the way the policeman falls, in the hair, in the tower and the steps?  I think it is pointing to a greater spiral, the one hidden in the story, the spiral of time. The movie seems to be repeating itself, just like a spiral.  First, Scottie meets Madeleine, they become friends, later fall in love, and it all ends when she throws herself from the tower.  Then Scottie meets Judy, which is the real name of Madeleine, they become friends and fall in love, it all ends when Judy throws herself from the tower, this time for real.  But we all know the two love stories were never the same.  Even though, it's clearer with Madeleine/Judy's character, Scottie too, wasn't the same person that fell in love with Madeleine, that he was after her death.  This is why, no matter how hard they tried, despite the fact that they were both physically the same people, Scottie and Judy had changed, and so had their love, so things could never go back to the way they were because they were already in a different point of the spiral of time, also known as life.

 

Tron, The Legacy (2010) Joseph Kosinski

I have heard many comments about this film being the most disappointing of the year.  The truth is I don't understand why.  I think the movie turned out to be just what it had promised to be.  It has great visual effects but the story isn't worth a penny.  Just like Transformers, you don't go to watch it expecting to find great acting and/or a meaningful and deep story, do you?

I watched it in 3D and I have to admit I had never enjoyed 3D (not even during Avatar) until now.  The motorcycle races, the fights, the virtual world, they are all mind-blowing.  I loved the whole idea of the lines and how they play with them, bending them, stretching them, transforming them into countless objects.  I also thought it was very clever to let us watch Daft Punk play the soundtrack of the movie as the fighting evolved.  That way, the idea of bits getting transformed into different songs, gets a whole new meaning.

Evidently the script of the film is filled with mistakes, but there is one that I think is tragical.  Isn't  the grid supposed to be a virtual world?  How come they get inside with their body as well?  Because if you need your body, then the space is tangible, which would make the grid need all that space in order to exist.  So, where is it hidden?  Where can you find that much space to utilize?  and if  Quorra is nothing but an ISO algorithm in this "virtual world" how come she has a body in the real world?  Well, they clearly didn't give it much of a thought before they started shooting, so maybe I shouldn't either.

Frost/Nixon (2008) Ron Howard

To be honest, I didn't know about the existence of this film.  When I started watching it, I thought it was an 80's film, it wasn't until I IMDB it, that I realized it was actually quite recent.  I don't remember hearing about it anything at all, which is funny since I find the topic to be of great interest, and since it's a Universal Studios production.  Somehow this film managed to pass unnoticed, despite the fact that I found it to be a very good film.

 

I think this movie is pretty standard in most of its technical aspects, the photography, the editing, the sound design, etc stay on the safe side, just as most commercial movies do.  But the story and acting are great.  

The truth is I was very tired when I started watching this film, but by the end of it I was so engaged to the story that I wasn't sleepy anymore.  I find that to be a great achievement, mainly due to Ron Howard's ability to tell a story.

It's funny because even if you don't have a clue about this interviews ever taking place, a part of you suspects that if Frost had failed, they probably wouldn't have made the film, so in a way you know how everything's going to end, yet the process of all the interviews, the whole rhythm, keeps you biting your nails the whole time, never forgetting this is the only chance, always hoping he will able to defeat Nixon... the tension is always there, that's why I find it to be a very good movie.

Lulu on the bridge (1998) Paul Auster

A friend convinced us of watching this film.  I had seen the cover many times before, but I had never actually rented it.  Then I found out Paul Auster was the director and I thought it'd be interesting to watch.  The truth is, it wasn't.  It was probably the worst movie I've seen this year.

It starts just fine.  Though I wasn't quite sure about the lighting, I thought the story was being told without any problems.  But then, after the sequence with the three girls dancing in the room, the movie starts to fall deeper and deeper into a bigger hole.  There is absolutely no chemistry between Harvey Keitel's and Mira Sorvino's characters, the acting is terrible, the photography is horrendously plain, the dialogues are unrealistic, it is filled with cliches and common places, the story is corny and feels exaggerated, in conclusion, there is not one single reason this movie is worth your time.  The worst part of it, is that in the end, it all turns out to be a dream, which is a very cowardly solution since there is no actual commitment to the story.  Everything turns out to be pointless.

The movie ended and I asked my friends if they had enjoyed it.  The answer was that they had hated it.  We couldn't understand why being Paul Auster's, it had such a bad script.  I've never read any of his novels but one of my friends had, and he said he was good... but this story had no way of being fixed.  I've always thought writers should write and directors should direct, but in this case, I think Paul Auster should just stick to writing novels.

Saturday Night Fever (1977) John Badham

I was watching tv and stumbled upon The Inside Story of Saturday Night Fever, I started watching the program and realized I'd never seen that film.  Being a milestone of the 70's pop-culture I thought it was about time I watch it.

 

This movie is what it promises to be.  I liked it.  It portraits the 70's generation in a crude, sarcastic way.  It makes fun of the cliches, which is uncommon to see now-a-days... it's honest and it doesn't pretend to be something it's not.  There are a couple of things I did not like, though.   I think that during the sequence of the competition, the slow-motion and the kiss, as well as the last sequence and the final freeze-frame, are just cheesy and unnecessary.  But other than that I think it's a good movie.  The dances, the clothes, the music, the story... it all works just fine.

The Face of Another (1966) Hiroshi Teshigahara

Even though Teshigara is a great and well-known director, I had only seen one of his films, Woman in the Dunes... which I had loved.  So, when I ran into The Face of Another, I did not hesitate, despite the fact that I hadn't heard anything about it.

This film blew my mind.  I know these philosophical questions and confrontations about identity and masks are really old and have been explored a thousand of times in cinema (Kagemusha, Being John Malkovich, The Man in the Iron Mask, Synecdoche New York, Zelig, The Mask) just for naming a few of them, but I think this is one of the best works I've seen on the subject.

Since you never get to see Mr. Okuyama before the accident, you can't picture his face.  He could be just anybody, there's no way of recognizing him... the man without a face.  Just as the character says it, you'll never remember him,  not even as the man with the face of another.  But what does this mean?  Is he identity-less just as he is faceless?  Anybody could steal his identity because he doesn't own it.  He looks in the mirror and there's nothing there, not a smile... nor a frown.

How can "the inside be what matters" when there's no expression of it on the exterior?  There's no communication between your interior and the world outside.  It's like being the best guitar player but never letting anybody listen to you play... does it matter that you're the best if there's no proof of it? can you be the best without no one knowing?  The same applies... Can you be happy without the ability to share a smile?  can you connect in a deeper level with anybody at all, if you can't even share a look?  All these philosophical teachings that tell us not to pay attention to the outside, not to judge a book by its cover, are being unhealthily radical. Our face, our surface is the main connection to our inside, if it's broken or damaged, holes will be left in our being that will later need to be filled.

Later on, Teshigahara gives the story a very interesting twist... right when the psychiatrist gives him his "mask" or his new identity.  The way he tries to seduce his wife, whom he feels doesn't love him anymore, as somebody else... I find that perversely natural.  Then, when he finally achieves it... just the idea of having lost his wife to himself... because in the end he is Mr. Okuyama before the accident, just as he is the man with the bandages mask, and the man with the face of another... but why is it that he feels more like himself as a man with no face than as a man with the face of another? If the inside is truly what matters, that makes no sense whatsoever, yet it is also true that we perceive the faceless Mr. Okuyama completely different from the face-of-another Mr. Okuyama.  Why is that?  Is  it just us being seduced by his new face or could it be, that he is changing his inside depending on his outside?  I think he just feels more comfortable having an open dialog with the outside world and that reflects on both his mood and our perception of him.

I think this movie deserves to be seen many more times... and deserves to be written about, even more, because there is just to much to it.  I would just like to close paraphrasing the last that is said in the movie:  Some masks can be removed, but some can't.

Clean, Shaven (1993) Lodge Kerrigan

I was walking around a video center figuring out what I would watch next.   When I got to the Criterion selection I looked around, and a movie jumped to my sight... I grabbed it, turned it around, read the synopsis and decided it was worth my while.  Gladly I was right.

Clean, Shaven is simply a great movie.  Visually and soundwise is mind blowing.  I loved the constant close-ups, the dutch angles, the car-travelings with only fragments of landscape to be seen, the feeling it gives you all of the above, as if the camera had been misplaced; the wires, the static, the murmurs, the lack of dialogues, the rhythm, the whole sound design, everything is simply great, for it goes hand-by-hand with the narrative and creates a fascinatingly morbid world.

Half way through the movie, I still wasn't sure what I was going to think about it in the end.  I had my doubts.  I thought maybe Kerrigan was just trying too hard for the story to work.  Some questions kept coming to my mind, like "why would they let him get out of the mental institution when he's clearly still mentally unstable?" or  "why would they let him behave like that at a public library?".  I'm still not sure that by the end I got the answer to my questions, but I think it has to do with the subjectivity of a schizophrenic.  Things are not meant to be clear.  Actually, things are not even meant to be real.  How could we take it all as utterly truthful facts when throughout the whole movie, the director keeps underlining the idea of it meaning to be completely subjective?

By the end of the movie I had this nostalgic/guilty state of mind. The movie reminded me of Mary Shelley's novel, Frankenstein.  Peter is a good guy at heart, just like Dr. Frankenstein's monster was, but they were both misunderstood.  They were so different to the rest, that people had to believe they were evil, because we're supposed to fear the unknown.  I couldn't help getting identified with both  Peter and the detective.  I think we all have one of each inside of us.  Most people end up killing their inner Peter because their just too afraid of it, of not understanding and controlling it... but I think we should give our inner Peter a chance to show us that he's not the bad guy, he's just different and confused. 

The Next Three Days (2010) Paul Haggis

There's a tradition in my family, every Sunday (as long as it's not the classical music concert season) we go to the theaters and watch a film, almost always picked by my father, which turns out to be a really bad movie.  Today it was, as always, a failed movie.

The Next Three Days seems to be two movies in one.  The first half is unbearable.  The rhythm is completely off, the acting is awful, the drama feels forced, and you can't keep yourself from asking "weren't we supposed to be watching an action film?"  Well, there's no action at all in the first half of the film, there's only a story that doesn't quite seem to have a reason for being told. 

The truth is all you've got is a lady, played by Elizabeth Banks, that allegedly murdered her boss, and even though her husband, Russel Crowe, believes she's innocent, all the evidence shows that she's guilty.  So, you as an audience, can't help but thinking that she deserves to be in jail, and since you don't empathize at all with her, (due to the first and only scenes you get to see her living a normal life) you're kind of glad she is in jail. 

And then there's Russel Crowe's obsession with rescuing her wife and going back to the way things were, but since he has a lovely kid and a great looking woman, played by Olivia Wilde, is totally hitting on him, you can't help but thinking "why all the effort for getting this crazy lady out of jail?  Why not just move on and try to be happy with what life's offering you?"  But no, this guy's truly obsessed. 

So, then you start to get the feeling that Elizabeth Bank's character doesn't want to be rescued at all.  And then you're thinking there's some potential there, right?  You got a guy who wants to rescue a girl who doesn't want to be rescued.  Don't we all relate to this in a way?  Haven't we all needed so badly to believe in something that we completely forgot to think if it was worth believing in it or not?  Now, there's a great story, but for telling that story you need great acting, mind-blowing dialogues, credible situations, and great character's chemistry (to mention a few) and those are things this movie is lacking, because it wasn't supposed to be this kind of movie, it was only meant to be an action film.

The second half, you get the action you were waiting for, but at this point you're already so bored by trying to decipher what's the whole point of the first half of the movie, that you have stopped caring that the movie is going to end up the way you always knew it would.  So when it finally ends that way, heroic, corny, predictable, and filled with all sort of Hollywood's unlikely-to-happen-even-if-the-whole-police-and-criminals-were-completely-daft kind of scenes, you're just glad it ended.

Sin Nombre (2009) Cary Fukunaga

I had heard about this film from a friend of mine, Tenoch Huerta, who is part of the cast - plays the leader of the Mara Salvatrucha at the beginning of the movie - and he had told me, he felt very proud of the movie.  He said I should watch it, but I never got to it, until now that I'm searching for movies that have to do with immigration.

I liked the movie.  Predictable as it is, I think it works.  It's cruel and raw, and though it's nothing we've never seen before, (Cidade de Deus, 2002) it describes, accurately enough, the life in the Mexican south border.  I like the way Fukunaga intertwines the love story, with what people have to go through in order to cross to the United States, with what it means to be part of the Mara Salvatrucha.  The connecting thread of this three themes, as well as the leitmotiv of the film, becomes the desperate need to belong.  Saira mentions how she's never felt accepted nowhere, which makes her decide to follow Casper, a guy who just risked his life to save hers; Saira's uncle and father are migrating to where they think they belong, which is next to their family; Casper isn't able to defend his girlfriend due to fear of being kicked out of the Maras; Smiley kills Casper because it is the test he needs to pass in order to truly belong to the Mara Salvatruchas.  

In the end, even though it might seem like a very local theme, it truly is treating a much more deeper, meaningful and universal matter, it is confronting us, asking us, "how far are you willing to go in order to belong?"  We end up incapable of judging the characters because we know where they come from, we know how they feel, in all different kind of ways, we have been them, and we too have done things that go against our nature in order to belong.

Reds (1981) Warren Beatty

I was looking for films that could fit in a season of films on journalists, and found a website that enlisted 100 films on journalism.  Reds was number 33.  I clicked on it, read the synopsis and went down to get it.  I thought I was going to watch a film about the "true story" of John Reed, the radical American journalist,  but instead I ended up watching a very badly disguised chick-flick. 

In my opinion, Warren Beatty was truly interested in John and Louise's passionate love story, but was actually to afraid to admit it, so he threw in all this material where we see John being a reporter, traveling to Russia, fighting for his ideals... and Louise writing her articles, working at Paris, being a feminism supporter... which only end up making the movie too frustrating long, since it never seems to be reaching nowhere, instead of just focusing on their love story. 

In a way I think you can draw a parallelism between John and Louise's relationship and the movie itself.  The way Louise is always asking John to define the relationship, always asking him "as what" will she be accompanying him.  John never gets to admit that he wants her to go as the love of his life, not even in the end, when he's dying in bed and he draws the question back at her, and she responds as comrades and he nods back in response.  Throughout the whole movie they try to be it all, coworkers, comrades, friends, lovers, husband and wife... but the truth is that they're more important to each other than they'll get themselves to admit... they're each others soul mates.  Perhaps the relationship would've worked better if they had been completely honest with themselves.  The same goes for the movie, Beatty tries too hard for it to be everything it's not, a film on journalism, a political film, a revolutionary film, a feminist film, a biography film, etc, instead of actually facing that, for him, it was always meant to be a film about a love story.