Tuesday, 27 January 2015

1,000 Times Good Night

1,000 Times Good Night (2013, Erik Poppe) 

Juliet Binoche’s performance has the gift of being able to invent a style for the film that draws the particular attention of the critics to its narrative. We can sympathize with her and understand her commitments on both sides, her profession and her family. The crisis point arrives when she must choose between two different sides of her life. The impossibility of reconciliation between these two brings the crisis to its peak. Rebecca tries to heighten her daughter's understanding of political tensions in the world. But there is a sign of optimism in the film when her daughter finally tries to understand her mother in the class assignment by referring to her mom's photographs in Africa. Rebecca's anxiety about the future of the survival of the next generations and their political awareness is demonstrated in her role as an observer and journalist at the end of the film. The question of realistic accuracy and precision of photos taken in political turmoil could have been another important aspect of the film that is not structured convincingly. Review By Morad Sadeghi

 


Saturday, 24 January 2015

Kış Uykusu (Winter Sleep)

Kış Uykusu (Winter Sleep)(Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 2014)

 

In making Winter Sleep, Ceylan developed his style further and his themes and motives go beyond all things that have been implied by his best stylistic strategies. The long takes and the shooting on the locations accompanied with the strong characterizations and the well-written dialogues create an astounding and extraordinary cinematic text. Ceylan now with the help of German and French production units succeeds to open a window in front of us in which the class differences become key element to portray the characters. Simultaneously, Aydin’s paranoia (Haluk Bilginer) towards his wife and his sense of controlling her life with all of his failures make a platform to launch the narrative. Visually and thematically, he brings all his theatrical experiences into his private life. His house looks like a stage with different rooms and corridors. The house as it is mentioned in a dialogue is like a cave with its claustrophobic and imprisoning structure that works like a shelter for the rich characters to refuge from the harshness of the reality outside (cold and snowy weather). The impossibility of breaking the gap between poor and rich people is intensified with Nihal's failure (Melisa Sozen) to donate Aydin's money as a charity to the poor family. It is so sad that she doesn't have any place to go back except Aydin's house. Not surprisingly, the form and the shape of the location and the narrative are circular with no place to flee. However, Ceylan never attempts to resolve the moral structure of the narrative. His complete disbelief in offering any solution at the end of the film makes his whole hypothesis about the denial of social class reconciliation provoking and controversial. We should not forget that there are many cinematic and literary references in the film that are worth to be mentioned such as the hunting scene of the rabbit that reminds us of the hunting scene in Renoir's film, Le Regle du Jeu (The Rules of the Game) (1939) with the similar thematic pattern or Bergmanian and Chekhovian dialogues between the male and the female protagonists. Review By Morad Sadeghi

Thursday, 22 January 2015

Don't Look Now

Don't Look Now (1973, Nicolas Roeg)

Having seen most of this feature I wonder what its complex temporality and eroticism might do to the audiences' power of realization. Perhaps the critics should go further and argue for the editing in the film. What I find unforgettable about the film is its multilayered and complicated narrative with supernatural and spiritual themes and motives. By the same token, the title of the film refers to the power of the look and the premonition of its consequences. At the same time, Roeg's stylistic decisions to play with the themes of death and sexuality make the temporal structure of the scenes enigmatic and mysterious. Does this mean that Roeg is capable of charming us with all potential formalistic strategies to change our mindset to the concept of time in his film? Review By Morad Sadeghi

Tuesday, 16 December 2014

Les Nuits de la pleine lune

Les Nuits de la pleine lune(Full moon in Paris)(1984, Eric Rohmer)

It was a cold and snowy night when I went with my friends to see Eric Rohmer's film in Cinémathèque Quebecoise in Montreal. While I was watching the film, I remembered the book that I read in French a long time ago in Toronto. Eric Rohmer and Claude Chabrol's book on Hitchcock seems to verge on a moralistic argument in a midst of a humanist discourse. Rohmer's desire to offer a moral interpretation of Hitchcock's works does not differ from what the audience can detect in his film, Full Moon in Paris. One of the fascinations of the film that surfaces easily is the ambiguity of the narrative that can be interpreted as Louise's (Pascale Ogier) punishment or her liberation from the ruined relationship. The point is that the film is lecturing on the moral uncertainty of the couple's relationship. Regarding Rohmer's ethical interpretation of the world, he offers a comprehensive account of how this moral corruption relates to the different characteristics of living in Paris and its suburbs. Although one can realize that Rohmer's film essentially begins and ends in the suburbs, the idea of the female protagonist's liberation from this atmosphere of entrapment weakens the intensity of her punishment for her immoral choices. During the screening of the film, while becoming acquainted with the female protagonist, the audience tries successfully to cope with her disappointments about the consequences of her choices. Her return to Octave (Fabrice Lucini) at the end of the film makes us believe that the last choice is not different from the other ones though it seems to be the best.
Review: By Morad Sadeghi


Thursday, 11 December 2014

Uzumasa Limelight

Uzumasa Limelight (2014, Ken Ochiai)

Uzumasa Limelight appears to be regarded by critics as a work of Japanese cinema that deals with a nostalgic appreciation of an era in Japanese film history. At the same time, the parallelism that exists between the world of reality and the world on stage is clearly stated by the comparisons between the male protagonist's end of career and his faked death. His career in the film industry is threatened by the presence of the new generation that finally pays respect to him at the end of the film. The joy the audience takes in analyzing the film is the joy of the viewer who is discovering the cultural perspective of a homage to the jidaigeki genre of film. The avoidance of sentimentalism is anticipated by preventing of using many flashback scenes that define the tragic past of the male protagonist. Finally, what characterizes the importance of the role of the female protagonist in the film is her capability to control the narrative that is still run by Japanese male-dominated society.
Review: By Morad Sadeghi



Tuesday, 9 December 2014

Whiplash

Whiplash (2014, Damien Ghazelle)

The film typically deals with several different topics. The most important detail stands out as the sadomasochistic relationship between Andrew (Miles Teller) and Fletcher (J.K.Simmons). In this respect, the title seems ideal. The film is closer to a psychoanalytical cinematic text and concerns artistic creativity and self-destruction. In addition to psychological traits, the distinction between professionalism and amateurism in a non-ordinary educational relationship sets up a complex narrative that on its most serious level unfolds the truth of the protagonist's confusion and perplexity. With various forms of montage aesthetics, the exhilaration of film derives not so much from the narrative but the pleasure that the visual format offers to the audience. Artifice and playfulness of the musical performances are the most prominent characteristics of the editing process. Undoubtedly, the film conveys an admirable summary of the protagonist's confrontation with artistic ambition that ruins the other aspects of his life. At the end of the film, Andrew earns his skill and achieves a kind of professionalism that satisfies Fletcher, but the consequence of this aggressiveness and outrage turns him into a monster (Fletcher?) that he rejects to become. Review: By Morad Sadeghi


Tuesday, 2 December 2014

Under the Skin

Under the Skin (2013, Jonathan Glazer)

Jonathan Glazer's science fiction film of Michael Faber's novel is about Laura (Scarlett Johansson) character, an extraterrestrial in female form. She kills the men because she and her extraterrestrial community need the skins of the men probably to survive on the planet Earth.  Laura's narrative is divided into two parts. In the second part of the film, an awareness of “Other" is present. Laura finally realizes that humanity has voices and faces. Her series of encounters with the men make her more human and finally invulnerable at the end of the film. The minimalistic structure of the film such as avoiding to use of more dialogue invites the audience to analyze the cinematic text with more precision and accuracy. The presence of nature in the film indicates Laura's passion for exploring the world of humanity. The superimposition of her lying on the ground with the trees of the forest gives the audience the clue that she is now a part of that nature that connects her to the world of humanity. The beginning of the film is visually unique and formally remarkable.
Review: Morad Sadeghi