First of all, Antonio Banderas is very good in it. He plays the aforementioned “brilliant plastic surgeon,” Robert Ledgard, who lives in a gorgeous mansion in the countryside outside of Toledo (Spain not Ohio.) When we meet him, he is walking through his house, past a number of beautiful paintings of fleshy women, settling finally on a bench before an enormous TV screen, which displays what seems to be another female nude image, but is in fact the surveillance feed of a woman locked in another room in the mansion. And it turns out she has just tried to commit suicide. As Robert rushes to save her, we see that he has a state-of-the-art operating room and research laboratory conveniently downstairs. And the woman, Vera (Elena Anaya), is part of a secret (and highly unethical) research project of his to perfect a flame-proof skin.

Who Vera is and how she got to be the object of his obsession/experimentation is the central mystery of the film. In flashback we see the threads that taken together weave this strangely satisfying story. Robert’s cheating wife is horribly burned in a car crash. His daughter has a fateful meeting with a man named Vincent at a wedding. And though Robert seems well-adjusted, he is in fact a very psychologically damaged man. What is particularly nice about Banderas’s performance is that he plays the mad scientist without acting crazy. He is holding a woman prisoner, experimenting on her, even sharing an opium pipe with her on occasion, but he seems very normal. And when their “relationship” turns romantic, he really seems to care about her.

The story unfolds in a way that keeps you constantly guessing what is going on, not so you are confused, but in a very intelligent manner. At the end with all the puzzle pieces in place, it is all very clear, but getting there, you cannot imagine how it will all come together that might make sense. The Skin I Live In is beautifully shot and the script is really oddly wonderful. I’d recommend this film to anyone who likes a smart psychological drama mystery and is not put off by subtitles. I can see why it is popping up on “Best of the Year” lists. I may just check out a few more Almodóvar movies myself.

Perhaps what the sisters have in common is that they see life on earth now as particularly hopeless. Justine’s melancholy is internal. Claire’s is from above. The opening sequence lets the audience in on the truth, that the mysterious blue planet that is hurtling towards the earth will indeed be our end, but until the moment it happens, there is always the faint hope that it will, as Claire’s astronomer husband John (Keifer Sutherland) keeps insisting, pass us by. It is a strange movie in that this planet that spells our doom is simply a given, but there is nothing else to hint at science fiction. There is no government agency scrambling to find a way to save the earth. In fact, the entire film takes place on an isolated estate somewhere on some coast – a mansion, stables, and, John’s pride and joy, an 18-hole golf course.

The film opens with a very arty sequence (think Tree of Life) depicting the sisters in strange tableaux around the estate, some is such extreme slow motion as to be nearly still, culminating with a planet crashing into earth. This is none too subtle foreshadowing of the strange and strained tale that is to come. There is a sense from the beginning that nothing quite fits here. When we meet Justine, she and her new husband are in the back of a stretch limo, which cannot navigate a tight turn and despite trying every conceivable approach, it is just stuck. She seems happy and fun, but it becomes clear at the reception that she is in desperate need of emotional aid and despite pleas to both her parents, she gets less than nothing. Claire seems mostly concerned with having the affair run on time, though it is obvious that she is the only person who understands what is happening with Justine and will take care of her. In the Claire chapter, a nearly catatonic Justine returns to stay at the mansion and is nursed back to mental health, just in time to help über-anxious Claire cope with the end of the world.

Melancholia is definitely not a mainstream film. But there is a lot to like about it, including wonderful acting from both lead actresses. So far, Kirsten Dunst has gotten a lot of kudos (Best Actress at Cannes), but I think Charlotte Gainsbourg deserves a few nods, as well. And the supporting cast is excellent. I particularly liked seeing Keifer in a non-Jack Bauer role for a change. Visually this film is stunning! The opening sequence is mesmerizing and who’d have thought a golf course could become such a magical landscape? But at the end of the day, it is a very depressing film. You need to be in the mood for an Art Film, because ultimately Melancholia is all about futility, though neatly wrapped in a gorgeously shot and beautifully acted package.

I have my favorite movie of the year now, and I expect that The Artist will be at the top of a lot of other reviewers’ lists, too. I’ve been told I gush about it. And I do not gush often. Considering that it is in black & white and is a silent film, you might wonder why.

I will admit to being a lover of older movies, particularly those from the 30s. And so, obviously, is the writer/director of The Artist, Michel Hazanavicius. In the same way Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris is a love letter to Paris, The Artist is an adoring ode to classic Hollywood. It is brimming with visual references to the great movies and movie stars from the early days of cinema, and the gloriously shot black & white imagery harkens back to an era when movie sets were works of art. Being a silent film, the soundtrack is in itself a character and I cannot imagine a better choice of period music along with several bits of whimsy. There is even a little dog with a big personality that would make Asta green with envy.

But what makes this movie really shine is the performance of the artist himself, Jean Dujardin, playing the central character George Valentin. You cannot help but absolutely love this man. What a face! Valentin is a huge silent film star as the movie begins. But it is 1927 and the talkie has come to town, and he is trying desperately to remain on top, while refusing to bow to the new technology.

Enter Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), a pretty young starlet on the rise, and you have the makings of a wonderful, sweet, sad, funny, surprising, and unbelievably affecting story. Yes, even without (or maybe because of the lack of) dialogue, you are captivated from beginning to end.

I remember in film school they taught us that the essence of filmmaking is telling a story in pictures. And boy, has Michel Hazanavicius done it here! It is really hard to describe, but you must go and see for yourself. Dujardin won the Best Actor prize at Cannes, and the film got a 20-minute standing ovation. I am not surprised in the least. I saw it at a festival and it is opening in limited release later this month. It is a French film, shot in Hollywood, so I have no idea if it will be eligible for The Oscar or has to make do winning the Best Foreign language category, but The Artist will undoubtedly be one of the films everyone is talking about. Genius!

Also starring John Goodman, James Cromwell, Malcolm McDowell, Penelope Ann Miller and a slew of other great modern Hollywood stars.

Pity the forgotten ones living in the shadows of the famous, the siblings who are mere footnotes in history. Who knew Mozart had a sister?  Her name was Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia Mozart, and she was five years older than Wolfie. When he was a baby she was the prodigy, but he soon stole the limelight.  Nannerl, as she was affectionately known, was probably an accomplished composer in her own right and by all accounts an incredible performer, but she was damned by virtue of being born female. Mozart’s Sister takes this kernel of a true story and builds a period drama around it.

In the fictionalized version, the Mozart family is on the road, wowing all the crowned heads in Europe. Wolfgang is the star, but Nannerl is an important part of the act. A broken axle forces them to stop at a convent, where almost 15-year-old Nannerl meets several French princesses, one of whom becomes her BFF.  And when the Mozarts arrive in Paris, Nan agrees to deliver a love letter to the princess’s beau. But as an unknown woman she cannot meet up with him because the beau is hanging out with the recently widowed Dauphin (Crown Prince), and so the intrigue begins.  Nannerl dresses as a boy, delivers the letter, and strikes up a friendship with the Dauphin.

Meanwhile, she wants to be a composer like Wolfie, but Dad tells her she has no talent and anyway, she’s a girl and girls don’t do that. He won’t even let her continue to play the violin because it is not ladylike and she is fast approaching marriageable age. But BFF Dauphin thinks she has talent and asks her/him to write him something, giving her the praise she craves, (and there is a bit of a romantic subplot with the two of them.)

Mozart’s Sister is an interesting if not terribly exciting period drama. I think Mainstream Chick would fall asleep, but much of the music is wonderful and the actors are all quite good. The girl who plays Nannerl (Marie Féret) is the director’s (René Féret) daughter. In the end though the message is sad and maddening — yet another talented artist was marginalized simply for having two X chromosomes.  You have to wonder what great things might have been written had her father and her time not worked against her. I don’t think you need to run out to see it in a theater, but when it comes to Netflix, it is definitely worth a look.

In French with Subtitles

(There have been several books about Nannerl in the past couple of years, but this is not an adaptation.)

The story begins as a pair of 30-something fraternal twins, Simon and Jeanne, visit a lawyer for the reading their mother’s will. Her last wishes include a couple of requests and surprises; she wants each of them to deliver a letter, one to their formerly presumed dead father, and one to a brother they never knew existed. Simon is not interested in his mother’s game, but daughter Jeanne immediately takes off from her job and heads to an unnamed Middle Eastern country to find her father. She does not really know anything about her mother’s early life there and the story alternates between flashbacks bringing the audience into the history of the mother Nawal Marwan and her daughter’s odyssey.

I suggest anyone who goes to see the film first do a bit of reading about the Lebanese civil war since that is what the film seems to be based around. In flashback we find that Nawal was a young woman from a Christian family who fell in love with a (Palestinian) refugee and brought shame on her family. She had his son but was forced to give him up and leave the village to go and study in the city. Once there she became passionately involved in the political upheaval. Warning: Parts of this war story are harrowing, giving the audience Nawal’s close-up view of atrocities and torture. As Jeanne learns more and more about the mother she never really knew, she comes closer and closer to uncovering the shocking secrets Nawal could never bring herself to share with her children. Eventually Simon joins Jeanne and together they find what they were sent to find.

The film is long (130 min.), but I was never bored. It is apparently based on a play that ran to 4+ hours. Incendies is a very personal anti-war howl. At its center is a woman who survives the unimaginable and even in death finds a way to teach her children about love. It is not a movie for everyone. But for people who appreciate great acting, a slowly peeled onion of a story and haunting cinematography of a desert land being torn apart by war, Incendies is worth a viewing. It is intense, but satisfying. And it will stick with you for days.

It is in theaters now, but also available on Netflix and for sale.

La doppia ora means the double hour in Italian and refers to an instance when the hour and the minute are the same (like 11:11 or 05:05); and according to superstition you are meant to make a wish just then, which will come true. In the film La doppia ora, one of these rare moments happens as a couple chats on the street after meeting at a speed-dating event. Sonia is an Eastern European immigrant maid at a nice hotel in Torino who has witnessed a suicide as the film begins so she is not really in the best mood for the chit chat necessary at these dating session. Guido is an ex-cop who has been coming since he lost his wife 3 years earlier and has yet to meet anyone he could think of having a relationship with. But they are drawn to each other and start dating.

It seems like it is going to be a nice romantic drama until he takes her on a date out into the country, to his place of work. He is a security guard at the estate of a very wealthy and never seen tycoon. And just as they are taking a romantic stroll around the grounds, getting to know one another, someone knocks him over the head. When he comes to, masked men force him to unlock all the gates and doors so they can clean the mansion out – paintings, furniture and everything not nailed down. Then they threaten Sonia, and Guido attacks them, getting himself shot and killed in the process.

Guido’s old cop buddies have some questions for Sonia about what really happened and if she was a part of the crime. But at the same time Sonia begins catching glimpses of Guido and questioning whether he is really dead. The movie has a number of twists and turns, which I won’t reveal because it would ruin what is an excellent psychological crime drama. For a good while you are not sure what is real and what is not, and I must say I like that a lot (as long as it is finally revealed, as it is here.)

Guido is played by sexy Filippo Timi who reminded me of an easy on the eyes Javier Bardem and Jake Gyllenhaal mix. And Sonia is played by the talented Russian actress Kseniya Rappoport whose subtle expressions tell a whole story themselves. She won the Best Actress prize at the Venice film festival for her role. La doppia ora came out in 2009 in Italy, but has just arrived in theaters in the US in the past few weeks. I would recommend it for date night or those who like Italian cinema or just want to see a really well done psychological drama.

There was talk of a US remake almost as soon as it screened at the Venice Film Festival, so if you are not a foreign film fan, you may have the chance to see it later, though I am sure it will lose something in the translation.

When we first meet Suzanne, she is taking her morning run, hair in curlers under a stylish scarf, decked out in a coordinated tracksuit. She pauses to jot a silly poem about some cute wildlife in her tiny notebook and then runs on home to her boring life as trophy wife to hubby Robert who clearly doesn’t think she has any real purpose except to take care of him. But when the workers go on strike because of the tyrannical way he runs the factory and they take him hostage, Suzanne not only negotiates his freedom, but after he comes home and has a heart attack, she takes over as boss – just until he is well enough to come back. Suzanne’s first order of business is to make peace with the workers and so she enlists the help of Maurice (Depardieu), a former union boss and now the town’s mayor, with whom she has a brief but steamy history, which neither has forgotten.

Once Suzanne has smoothed things out at the factory, she realizes that she likes the job; she has even hired her son and daughter and they have the place running better than ever. But her husband returns and wants back in, pitting her children against each other. The film deals with feminism, classism and the vagaries of modern relationships with a very light brush. Suzanne’s husband may be having a long running relationship with his secretary Nadège, but when it comes to allegiances, she stands with her sister Suzanne. And this being a comedy, Suzanne comes out on top.

This is not a laugh out loud funny movie, but just watching Denueve and Depardieu is worth the price of admission. Potiche is an updated adaptation of a 70s play and the attention to detail about the period is itself hilarious. (There is a corduroy covered telephone in one scene.) Throughout the movie there are silly musical numbers, ending with Deneuve herself singing a song with the chorus of “life is good.” It is a quirky film, but thoroughly entertaining. Deneuve has great comedic timing and the camera still loves her.

]]> http://chickflix.net/2011/05/potiche/feed/ 0 http://chickflix.net/2011/04/certified-copy/ http://chickflix.net/2011/04/certified-copy/#comments Thu, 28 Apr 2011 01:44:29 +0000 Arty Chick http://chickflix.net/?p=6119 There are some movies that are nearly impossible to review because to tell the story is to give away (ruin) the experience of watching it. Certified Copy is one of those films. Directed by Abbas Kiarostami (Taste of Cherry) and starring the luminous Juliette Binoche who won the Best Actress Award at Cannes for her role in this film, it is about the most confusing 106 minutes I have spent in a long time. Not a bad confusion, but a well planned, edge of your seat waiting and wondering when it is all going to make sense confusion. The central question, which pops up about 20 minutes in, has you questioning what is true and what isn’t right up until the end. And in addition to the twisting plot, the film alternates between English, French and Italian.

Certified Copy takes place in hill towns of Tuscany mostly over the period of one day. The movie begins with Elle (Binoche) coming to a book-promoting lecture by a British author (William Shimell) on authenticity and fakery in art. Though she doesn’t stay, she leaves a note inviting him to meet her the next day at her antique shop. From there she takes him for a drive to another town where they spend the day wandering, discussing art and the nature of relationships, and sightseeing, though the way it is filmed, the viewer doesn’t really see a lot of the Tuscan town. The story is told mostly in medium shots, which makes you wonder what is just beyond the frame. This is of course part of the filmmaker’s design to make you just uncomfortable enough, to keep you slightly off kilter through the whole film.

Certified Copy is a hard film to recommend for most people, but if you like arty, intelligently written foreign films, this one will not be like anything you’ve seen and you’ll be thinking about it for days to come. If it is around where you are, take the chance. You’ll be glad you did.

Watch the trailer for a bit more of an idea about it.

In a Better World won the 2011 Academy Award for Best Foreign film and it truly deserved it (though I’ve yet to see the others besides Biutiful, which was amazing, too.) Which brings me to this question: why does the Academy require all films except the foreign ones to screen in a theater in the US before they can qualify to be nominated? I’d love just once to be able to see the foreign nominees before the Oscars. (Dogtooth from Greece, Outside the Law from Algeria and Incendie from Canada are all opening at some point in the near future, so stay tuned.)

The Danish Oscar winner In Better World isn’t an easy movie to watch, and you should be prepared to have a knot in your stomach for about two hours. But I think you’ll be glad you did.

The story is very timely in that its central theme is bullying. 10-year-old Elias is being bullied at school. Elias’ father is a doctor posted in a refugee camp in an unnamed African country and he is dealing with the horrifying wounds inflicted by a Warlord bully; he commutes back and forth from Africa to Denmark. Into their small Danish town comes Christian who has just lost his mother to cancer. He and Elias immediately form a bond when Christian takes on Elias’ bully at school. Christian has been extremely affected by his mom’s death and has a very dark anger inside, which brings him and his new friend into some extremely dangerous situations involving knives and bombs, and there are a couple of scenes on top of a very tall building, which will have you holding your breath. Paralleling the story of the boys is Elias’ parents crumbling marriage, as well as Christian’s angry rage at his father for his mother’s death.

In a Better World is gorgeously shot with a wonderfully subtle script. The emotions are understated and painfully real and all the actors do a wonderful job of bringing this story of fragile relationships to life. But what makes In a Better World a great film is the way that it keeps the tension just under the surface from beginning to end. You have the phrase “This can’t end well” running through your head the whole time. (I won’t tell if it does.) The film deals with some enormous ethical dilemmas as well as questions of real friendship and family in an amazingly insightful and heartfelt way. And as hard as some of it is to watch, I can’t imagine anyone not being affected by this story.

It is subtitled, but even Mainstream Chick who doesn’t usually go for “movies we read” liked it. See it.

Uxbal’s world is in the margins of modern European society. Chinese laborers live in an icy cold warehouse basement producing knock-off designer bags and pirated DVDs that the Africans sell on the streets. Uxbal is the middleman, taking money from the Chinese business owners, paying off crooked cops, and doing his best to make sure everyone gets something out of it all. He’s no angel, but he has a heart.

A recurring theme in Biutiful is the missing father. One of Uxbal’s Senegalese salesmen friends is deported, leaving behind a wife and child, and his own children are taken care of by a Chinese immigrant woman who has a small child, but no husband. He doesn’t really remember his own young father who escaped Franco’s police only to die in Mexico from pneumonia. And so his imminent death weighs even more heavily on him. Everything he does is to try and make sure his kids won’t forget him and that they will be taken care of when he is gone. And that is a heart-breakingly impossible task.

This is Bardem’s movie and he is AMAZING! His Uxbal is being eaten alive both physically and emotionally and he embodies that pain in the most unsentimental way. When he smiles, you cannot help but smile with him, and you cannot help but ache when his heart aches.

Biutiful is decidedly not for everyone. It is very rough, and very European in style. Alejandro González Iñárritu directed Babel, but this film is more akin to his earlier and unquestioningly brilliant Amores Perros. You must be prepared for some very depressing subject matter. I cried several times during Biutiful. But I think it worth seeing for Javier Bardem’s painfully honest performance alone.