As Manohla Dargis wrote in her New York Times review, Taika Waititi’s Hunt for the Wilderpeople “takes a troika of familiar story types” the plucky kid, the crusty geezer, the nurturing bosom” and strips them of cliche.” This charming Kiwi feature (Waititi also directed the hysterically funny What We Do in the Shadows), served as a spirit-lifter following Tuesday’s shocking election result. Not enough to last four years, but…
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When I first watched Mistress America last spring, I found it really annoying and pretentious… I believe I described it as “up its own ass”, when discussing it with my good friend Marcy (A.K.A. Bob), who had worked on the coloring of the film with director Noah Baumbach. “Really? I thought it was super funny.”, was her reply. She encouraged me to give it a second chance. Of course, she was right. Apparently I had watched it at a time when my “irony gene” was temporarily disabled.
Miss Gerwig, who co-wrote Mistress with boyfriend Baumbach, was deliciously goofy and self-deprecating, in that New York manner of faux-confidence. My favorite line: “There’s no cheating when you’re 18—you should all be touching each other all the time.”
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Jacques Audiard’s 2015 Palm D’or winning Dheepan starts in the devastated heart of war-torn Sri Lanka, with a man, woman and child – all strangers to each other – assembling themselves into a make-shift family in order to flee to Europe. Remaining in Sri Lanka would mean almost certain death for the three. The titular character, Dheepan, is a high-ranking member of the Tamil Tigers, a revolutionary secessionist organization.
Dheepan finds his new life as the janitor in a rough housing project in the suburbs of Paris only marginally less challenging… but his “family” begin to form bonds, and the risk of being killed seems comparatively remote. Or is it?
I wish I had done a better job at selling this one to you beforehand… at first glance, it looks like another story of untold human suffering and woe. In fact, it’s full of charm, with moments of joy and tenderness… and just plain fun. Go see it when it comes out!
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I’m in love… with Deniz Gamze Ergven’s Mustang. I don’t really want to watch another movie right now. This is enough for me. Shit.
I guess that this feeling will pass (good news for MovieNight, although I could just keep showing this…) but for now, let me share the heartfelt observations of Norris:
Man, that Deniz Egrven knows what she’s doing. I came expecting beauty and Mustang delivered, along with so much more. In fact, I’m now surprised it hasn’t got more love internationally — it’s just such strong filmmaking all around. Yes, it had the Virgin-Suicides-like dreamy visions of imprisoned young femininity, but what great storytelling, and what detailed and compassionate observations of the family, in the type of repressive culture so many films caricaturize. And what kick-ass acting? Especially the older women.
This Northern Turkish culture reminded me of a Southern Italian one I got to knew through a then-girlfriend in summer, 2000, when we spent time in a tiny town outside Naples where both her parents grew up. The people were lovely but just as controlled by the same fear of a household-shaming brutta figura, as the ones in Mustang were. They ran the same brutal clampdown on anything potentially “whorish,” and for reasons that seemed to have as little to do with Catholicism than as the Mustang town’s did with Islam.
Another thing I loved about the film: what a marginal role religion played in that patriarchy. At one point, we hear Uncle Saddam Hussein ask his guests if they drink alcohol, just to be a good host, because they clearly did in his house, whereas in most observant Muslim households that’d be haram, I’m pretty sure. I also loved how the appealing aspects of Turkish traditional life were shown, by having little Lale get won over by making chewing gum and other cool trade secrets from the womenfolk. And how the women’s sweetness made the situation tolerable, and maybe even a desirable alternative.
It’s impossible to know to what degree a female director was better able to modulate the Lolita imagery, making the girls seem sweet, ripe, and robust without objectifying their bodies. I mean, that wet-white-shirted, uniformed-schoolgirl romp in the surf is the stuff of soft-porn and hair-metal videos. But it really was only sort of sexy and mostly beautiful, and also innocent and playful. Plus: either director or DP is genius for finding such a resonant image in the virginity test: that overhead shot of radiant young girl, laid like a homicide victim for ID by the family, the white lower half of her dress illuminated from within.
And Lale. Man. Did she remind you too of the girl narrator in Days of Heaven? I love how her voice takes us through the whole story, right up to that final moment: when she collapses into her teacher’s arms, and this pint-sized force of nature becomes a child in the presence of the sole mother she ever knew, and one clearly needed so desperately and not just for sanctuary from their home. And when the teacher ending it with the final line “Honey” (or whatever it is in Turkish). That pretty much wrecked me.
You can read more of Chris’s published observations and musings on his author’s site, bychrisnorris.com
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Well… that was a blast! Wicked tunes from DJ Orloff and a completely fresh set of visuals, set the mood for the incredibly effective masterpiece of creepy ghostliness that was The Innocents. The set-up was all very… well… innocent. Kind-hearted nanny accepts a position to look after two angelic, orphaned charges. Heading for a Nanny McPhee story, right? Sound of Music, right? Uh uh. A brother and sister possessed.
I had promised a slew of devilish treats, but due to the unforeseen, early-morning failure of the building’s water pump, we were lucky to have flushing toilets, let alone fresh baked goodies… ah… first world problems.
The second feature (although not a feature, strictly speaking, since it was shown without it’s own sound track) was Female Vampire… another one of those Franco-Italian vampire porn treasures from the seventies. This one seemed to have a cohesive plot, though: deaf-mute (hot) vampire girl sustains herself by sucking the life out of her sexual partners. Yes… that’s what I mean. Hmmm.
My own costume, although brilliant in conception, was ultimately un-achievable (in some ways a blessing, since it would have severely hampered my ability to drink, ironically), but others did not disappoint. The popular vote never took place, but I think I can safely award the prize to Alexandra and Nicolas (pictured below, against a background from Freaks, photo by Circe). Also notable were “Marie: An Brunette”, and the glowing “Sasha” who, incidentally, lost one of his balls on the sofa! Kyril was also very convincing as Boris Yeltsin. Oh wait… maybe I’m imagining things!
🙂
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Hagen was a good dog. Not a pure breed, though, and when the estranged father of his owner discovered that a “Mongrel tax” would be levied, Hagen was turned out into the street. Kornel Mundruczo’s White God is steeped in symbolism, to an extent that perhaps one has to be a purebred Hungarian to fully appreciate. In a brief, post-movie wrap-up, our resident reviewer, Norris*, expressed his frustration with some unexplained references. “I used to be a professor.” Why? What happened? My guess: an inappropriate relationship with a student, which led to the birth of Hagen’s thirteen year old owner… OMD!
*Of course Norris is actually Chris Norris, a gifted writer, whose recent, fascinating New York Times piece should be read here. Say “Butterfly” in Urdu? Easy!
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