Life is Beautiful

1997 Director Roberto Benigni

This Italian heart-warmer is on course to become the most commercially successful foreign-language film of all time. It won three Oscars, including Best Foreign-Language Film and Actor. It will be adored by millions, and just as heartily loathed by others. Why? mainly because it is an attempt to find humour in the Holocaust.

In the first half of the picture, set in 1939 Tuscany, an impulsive romantic and would-be bookseller (played by the director, co-writer and Italy's favourite comedian, Roberto Benigni) learns to become a waiter in a grand hotel. He also woos Dora (played by Benigni's real-life wife, Nicoletta Braschi), who's the beautiful schoolteacher fiancee of a local fascist. Although the background is of rising Italian nationalism, the atmosphere is sunny, carefree and about as realistic as an open-air production of The Marriage of Figaro.

Benigni's physical clowning recalls the heyday of Jacques Tati and verges on brilliance in such scenes as the one when he absent-mindedly carries a poodle on a tiny tray. He also has a verbal dexterity reminiscent of Danny Kaye, improvising his way out of emergencies with speeches of mounting outrageousness.
Unfortunately, his view of the ideal woman is reminiscent of Chaplin at his worst. Dora is a bland, bovine creation, whose role seems simply to gaze adoringly at Benigni and laugh at his jokes. The first half is likeable but very corny, ultra-romantic comedy, as Benigni strives to portray the Thirties as a cute, pastoral idyll.

Then the tone darkens. We are reminded that the waiter, now married to Dora and the owner of a bookshop, is Jewish. He tries to explain to his son (Giorgio Cantarini) who looks five or six, why Jews and dogs are not allowed in a local shop. It's a game, he says, in which shopkeepers arbitrarily exclude one sort of person or another. They must remember to put up a sign in their bookshop, saying No Visigoths And Spiders.

Is the father patronizing his son by telling him lies, or preserving his innocence? Either way, this is a foretaste of nastier things to come. Our hero is transported to a concentration camp with his son. The gentile mother bravely follows to another part of the camp, out of love for her family.

In the camp, the father continues his policy of preserving his son's faith in humanity at the same time as trying to save his life. Our hero learns that old men and children are the first to be taken to the gas chambers, so he teaches his son to hide and be stoical in the face of hunger and hardship. He pretends they are part of a game, the object of which is to earn enough points to become the winner of a tank.
Even in this darker second half, there are hilarious set-pieces, notably one where Benigni acts as interpreter to a German guard and explains the rules of his invented game to his son and a bewildered audience of fellow-inmates.

Some of the best moments that follow are echoes of The Great Dictator, in which Chaplin ridiculed fascism. Unfortunately, the worst moments reminded me of a justly forgotten Jerry Lewis comedy from 1972, The Day the Clown Cried, about a clown whose job was to entertain Jewish children on their way to the gas chambers.

I can well understand why anyone might be offended by Benigni's portrait of a concentration camp. The brutality, racism and hopelessness are all underplayed. The prisoners don't even look very underfed.

But it's all part of Benigni's grand design. He has to soften the realities of the concentration camp slightly, or there could be no laughter. Sophisticated audiences will realize that Benigni - like his hero - is playing an elaborate game with us. He is asking us to go along with him, and suspend our disbelief.

After all, it is incredible that Benigni's character could enlist his suffering colleagues into preserving the illusions of his small son. Equally far-fetched is the moment when Benigni nips into an empty office and serenades his wife through the camp's loudspeaker. It is meant to charm, but it's just plain silly. He may be an impulsive romantic, but would he endanger his own life and that of his son, to make such a grand but futile gesture? And why does his action have no repercussions?
Life Is Beautiful never sets out to be a realistic representation. As the voice-over makes clear from the outset, this is a fable. Yet the reality and the horror lurk all the time in the background, as when Benigni rounds a wall in the camp and comes across a pile of corpses.
The reason for the film's huge success is that it works marvellously as a romantic, comic allegory about the resilience of the human spirit, about how people use humour to save them from going mad in the face of horror.

Most of all, it is a moving portrayal of fatherly affection. It reminds us of a time when parents worked harder than they do today to preserve their children's innocence.
Benigni may take the idea of preserving that innocence to ludicrous extremes, but he does so with a purpose. He shows us an idealised portrait of parental selflessness. In doing so, he shows us something of value that has gone largely missing from our society.
Parts of Life Is Beautiful made me cringe, and some of its sentimental over-simplifications struck me as wilfully dishonest. Yet it is often funny, and - love it or hate it (I felt both emotions) - it is an extraordinary, if slightly barmy, achievement.

The Apple

1998 Director Samira Makhmalbaf

Shot in 11 days, The Apple is everything a Hollywood film is not, and that’s a major compliment. This understated and poetic, yet refreshingly simple, exercise in filmmaking raises urgent and difficult questions, but refrains from giving us stereotypical and moralistic answers. Rather than making judgment calls, Samira Makhmalbaf challenges us to reflect on the contradictions emerging from the clash between traditional values and the ones propagated by a modern and civilized society.

In the near-iconic opening shot of Samira Makhmalbaf’s remarkable first feature, The Apple, a hand is reaching into the frame to water a dried-out plant. The futility of this simple act becomes evident as we see the life-bringing water miss the pot.  The hand performing this unavailing task belongs to Zahra, an 11 year-old girl who plays herself in this true-to-life film. The bars hindering Zahra from reaching the thirsty flower are the same ones that separate her from the outside world. For as long they can remember, she and her twin sister Massoumeh have been imprisoned in the family home by a righteous and protecting father.  In tying the fate of the flower to the condition of the twins, Samira Makhmalbaf manages to create a powerful and poetic metaphor for the condition of girls and women in an anachronistic Iranian society where archaic traditions can cause antagonism and modern-day tragedy.  In a central part of the film, the father is asked to justify his daughters’ captivity to a social worker. Defending his deed, the 65 year-old unemployed patriarch refers to a tattered copy of “Advice to Fathers.”  “My daughters are like flowers,” he says, “expose them to sun, and they will wither away.” Interpreting the “sun” to mean “boys”, the religious father, whose only ally is his blind wife, decides to isolate his beloved daughters in the name of dignity.  After learning about this real-life tragedy from Iranian television, the 17 year-old director Samira Makhmalbaf became interested in the fate and future of the twins. 

It is clear that the making of The Apple was a profound experience for both Zahra and Massoumeh -- a summary initiation into both the real and the reel world. As viewers, we are allowed to share in their joy of freedom and exploration, and in their enthusiastic appreciation of the small things in life. It is a rare gift to see something so authentic in such an artistic context.  I recently read that Samira’s younger sister has shot two short films. She is ten years old and will probably soon join the ranks of her sister and father. If Samira’s filmmaking is an indication of her sister’s talents, then the Iranian Film Revolution -- or is it Evolution? -- is set to continue.

The Wind will carry us

1999 Director Abbas Kiarostami

With a strange mission, a group of people from the city come to a small village in Iran. They are awaiting the death of a 100+ year old woman, while pretending to be communication engineers.

A subtle, deceptively simple and richly rewarding work of genius from Kiarostami, this film opens on a long shot of a car negotiating a dusty mountain road, with driver and passengers arguing about where they are. Once the car reaches the Kurdistan village of Siaf Dareh, the ambiguities and mysteries proliferate and interweave. Are the men in the village treasure-hunters, as they tell a boy, the telecom engineers as the villagers assume to be, or something more sinister? Why is their apparent leader curious about the boy's dying grandma? And why, when Tehran calls on his mobile and he needs to move to higher ground, does he always drive to the cemetery, where an invisible man sings from a hole in the ground?

This engrossing and beautiful film succeeds on many levels. As witty, almost absurdist comedy, it offers lovely visual and verbal gags. And as an ethnographic/philosophical study of the relationships between ancient and modern, rural and urban, devotion and directionlessness, it's intriguing and illuminating.

Pusher

1996 Director Nicolas Winding Refn

Set in the grimy underbelly of Copenhagen this film tell the story of a drug pusher’s misfortunes with a candid realism that is unusual.

Frank is a gung-ho drug pusher who is lured by a surefire deal. When the deal goes awry he finds himself in debt with his somewhat unforgiving supplier. The more he tries to get out of this dangerous hole the deeper he manages to dig himself in. He is accompnied, helped and hindered by a motley crew of misfits. There are several reference points in this film. The escalating frustration at being thwarted by fate reminded me of Joe Palantino’s role in the Wachowski brother’s “Bound” while the ending is definitely reminiscent of Bob Hoskin’s closing shot in “The Long Good Friday”.

The camera work is all handheld which gives it a documentary feel and the violence is almost matter-of-fact. This film was followed in very similar style some 9 years later by two sequels. Refn did not make the mistake of following Frank's story beyond its natural conclusion, choosing instead to follow the lives of the other two main characters, Tonny, Frank's hapless sidekick and Milo his drug supplier. It all makes very compelling viewing.

The City Of Lost Children

1995 Director Jean-Pierre Jeunet & Marc Caro

Caro & Jeunet team up again to produce a fantastically-twisted fairy tale chock-full of curious characters, spectacular stunts and unforgettable visuals.

A scientist in a surrealist society kidnaps children to steal their dreams, hoping that they will slow his aging process. A gutsy little girl and a sentimental strongman join hearts and hands to save a small boy's dreams from a madman's master plan. They encounter a barrage of weird and wonderful characters on their way, many of whom will be familiar returns from Amelie and Delicatessen.

Reminiscent of Terry Gilliam's harrowing Brazil this film is filled with dazzling visuals, ingenious gadgets and state-of-the-art special effects. It is a journey into the darkest recesses of the human psyche conjuring up nightmarish images and juxtapositioning them next to kindness and compassion. A great mix and quite a ride that will delight and disturb in equal measures

Delicatessen

1991 Director Jean-Pierre Jeunet & Marc Caro

This is a unique and surreal dark comedy that has rightly received overwhelming critical acclaim.

In a post-apocalyptic society where meat is scarce, cannibalism is no longer unsavory. And when a young ex-clown takes a job in a dilapidated deli, he's completely unaware that the butcher plans to serve him to the building's bizarre tenants. But when the butcher’s nearsighted daughter falls for the clown, she'll go to absurd lengths to foil her father's plan.

This dark tale is played out in a brilliantly designed, gloriously surreal world reminiscent of the works of Terry Gilliam. Like Gilliam, Jeunet comes from an animation background, and has a fondness for extravagant visuals, absurd twists, and a sense of humor that combines sharp satire with broad slapstick and gross-out imagery. This mixture may displease the weak of stomach, but those attuned to the film's sensibility will be delighted by the obvious technical virtuosity and wicked sense of humor.

Three Colours: Red

1994 Director Krzysztof Kieslowski

This is the concluding film in the Three Colours Trilogy and sadly also Kieslowski's last film. It takes the fraternity part of the French flag as its theme. It also very neatly ties off all the loose ends of the preceding two films.

The film draws heavily on the connectedness of humans via the telephone and the abuse that this lends itself to. Through an accident Valentine is drawn into the life of a retired judge who has taken up telephonic eavesdropping. Her relationship with him leads him to make a startling resolution regarding his obsessions.

This is the triumphant conclusion to the Trilogy and the point of convergence for the three sets of characters in the series. It is the warmest of all three films and this stems from the main theme of the colour red. On a deeper level, it is a film about the invisible connections that intertwine our lives. From the opening scenes until the very end where all the seemingly loose elements converge, the colour red pops up like an eyesore, and this imagery even extends to the characters themselves. If Kieslowski will be remembered for anything, it will be the well-written and well-directed intellectual puzzle called "Red".

Knockin' on Heaven's Door

1997 Director Thomas Jahn

This is a road/buddy movie with a difference. Both parties are terminally ill. This film deals with the tragedy of their circumstances in a hilarious but sympathetic manner.

Martin, arrogant and impatient, suffering from a terminal brain tumour meets Rudi, mild mannered and introverted, suffering from leukaemia in a hospital. They decide to drown their sorrows and end up driving in a stolen car across Germany into Holland in order to see the sea once before they die. The car belongs to a bunch of bungling crooks and what follows is both funny and touching.

If you make allowances for some German slapstick this film is very enjoyable with a lot of genuinely funny moments. Moritz Bleibtreu plays a Turkish immigrant who’s grasp of German leaves a lot to be desired. Unfortunately these language gags don’t translate too well into subtitles, so an understanding of the language helps. This is a good example of German humour at its best. Watch out for the surprise cameo of Rutger Hauer in the only English speaking part.

Three Colours: White

1994 Director Krzysztof Kieslowski

This is the second film in Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Three Colours Trilogy", which deals with the equality part of the french flag.

The film follows a reign of bad luck visited upon a Polish hairdresser in Paris. It starts with a pigeon poignantly defecating on him, which sets the tone to his life. He is divorced by his wife for impotency and non-consummation. With nothing to keep him in Paris and no money he plans an ingenious way to get back to Poland. Once there he decides to take charge of his destiny and plots a terrible revenge against his, now, ex-wife.

This episode in the trilogy is less seminal than the other two and shot linearly. There are several recurring themes that were started in the "Blue" and although not as visually arresting as the other two is nevertheless a captivating film.

Three Colours: Blue

1993 Director Krzysztof Kieslowski

This is the first of a trilogy of films by Kieslowski, loosely inspired by the colours of the French flag and their corresponding symbolic qualities, the basic focus of Blue is liberty.

It stars Juliette Binoche as the lone survivor of a car crash that killed her husband, a famous composer, and their only child. The husband left behind an unfinished composition that was the culmination of his life's work. The wife attempts at starting over, purging all remnants of her former existence in an attempt to sever her ties to the past, only to be repeatedly drawn to the music. In the end she decides to finish the work herself.

This is a meticulously shot film and the marks a new style that was to become Kieslowski's trademark.  He crafts the mood of this film so completely that when watching it, you find yourself immersed in the plight of Julie as she rebuilds her life. She is in all but 1 of the scenes. It set a very high standard which he kept consistently in the other two films in this series. In this film he introduces a number of recurring themes and has managed to produce a faultless piece of work.

Cronos

1993 Director Guillermo del Torro

This the Guillermo del Toro's directorial debut film.

The film tells the story of elderly antique dealer Jesus Gris who, with his eight-year-old granddaughter Aurora,  discovers an ancient artifact secreted within a statue obtained from the estate of a 16th-century alchemist. Unbeknownst to Gris, the device houses an immortal parasite which will grant eternal life to its host. Naturally, there is a terrible price for this gift, which Gris is doomed to discover after the object anchors itself to his body. He begins to develop an extreme aversion to daylight, as well as an agonizing thirst for human blood. To compound matters, dying millionaire has learned of the device's existence.

This is a classic Vampire tale albeit with an inventive twist to it. It pays homage to many of the classic films of this genre. The cover hails it as one of the greatest chillers of all time, but I think it falls short by quite a mark. The girl's role is ambiguous and her actions are counterintuitive for one so young. If you are a vampire film fan then this is probably worth the view. If this isn't your preferred genre then you're not missing anything by giving it a miss.

Sátántangó

1994 Director Béla Tarr

This is Tarr's epic seven and a half hour long film dealing with the dissolution of a farming commune following the collapse of the communist regime and with it the subsidies that kept this community alive.It is adapted from a novel by Laszlo Karsznahorkai and took two full years to film. The story is presented through a series of chapters of varying lengths presented in a tangoesque sequence. Hence the name "Satan's Tango".

Tarr employs a series of very long shots, some up to 20 minutes in duration and a variety of techniques to make the viewer feel present in the scene. In some instances the shot is static with action being heard off screen only. In others a shot is held on a character for 5 minutes after the action is complete. After spending so long in the company of these characters the viewer can not fail but to empathise with their plight.

A stunning film and well worth the effort although it can easily be watched chapter by chapter without detracting from the overall experience.

Le Dîner de cons

1998 Director Francis Veber

Francis Veber wrote and directed this film adaptation of his own play. In 1993, he cast Jacques Villeret in the role of the idiot onstage for 600 performances of a 27 month run, and the play also had a 1994 London production.

The film is about a cruel competition among a group of friends to see who can find the stupidest person to bring to dinner. The dinners are held each Wednesday night, and French publisher Pierre Brochant has found a world class idiot, tax accountant Francois Pignon who uses matchsticks to build small-scale replicas of monuments. Things quickly go awry after Pierre wrenches his back at golf. He nevertheless makes an effort to attend the dinner with his prize. Francois arrives at Pierre's luxury apartment, but Pierre is in such pain they never exit the apartment for the dinner. Instead, Pierre is trapped in a situation where Francois' stupidity turns his life into a comic hell.

This film is french comedy at its very best and never tires with revisits. The expressions and reactions of the luckless pair coupled with exquisite comic timing make this a must see.

Run Lola Run

1998 Director Tom Tykwer

Reminicent of Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Blind Chance", this is a film about the differences that minute amounts of time can have on the outcome of events. Moritz Bleibtreu and Franka Potente play a couple who's fate is inextricably entwined.

Manni is given an opportunity to prove his worth by a gangland boss by delivering the cash from a diamond deal. He leaves the money on a train and now has only 20 minutes to gather 10,000 marks. He calls his girlfriend Lola and tells her that he intends to hold up a supermarket. She pleads for him to wait for her.

Here start three roller coaster runs across town, each one dependent on the time that it takes her to get down the stairs of her apartment. Each scenario is punctuated by a conversation on mortality that Manni and Lola have in bed.

Many cinematic techniques are on display here including whip pans, jump cuts, slow and fast motion, split-screen, intercut color and black and white, segment titles, and animation and all are choreographed superbly to the thumping soundtrack. An exhilarating and very watchable film.

Man Bites Dog

1992 Director Rémy Belvaux

Hold on to your seats for an uncomfortable ride into the ultimate realm of reality TV. Rémy Belvaux films from the perspective of a reality TV crew following the exploits of a serial killer with a predisposition for postmen. As they become more and more involved in the making of the documentary the boundaries between the killer's deeds and the crew's actions becomes more and more blurred until they reverse their roles from passive observers to active participants.

This film is not for the easily shocked or squeamish. However, the real skill and fascination is in the relationship between the film crew and the killer and their detachment from the horror of his actions in preference to their film making.

It's an ironic warning, bearing in mind that reality TV was in its infancy in 1992 and well worth watching once the children have gone to bed.

Les Amants du Pont-Neuf

1991 Director Leos Carax

Filmed on Paris' oldest bridge, the Pont Neuf, while it was closed for repairs, this is a love story between two homeless youngsters. Alex, an alcoholic street performer addicted to sedatives and Michele, an artist driven to a life on the streets because of a failed relationship and an illness that is slowly turning her blind.

The film portrays the harsh existence of the homeless as Alex, Michele and Hans, an older vagrant and the supplier of Alex's sedatives, survive on their  wits. As they both slowly get their lives back together, Michele becomes increasingly dependent on Alex as her vision deteriorates further. Fearing that Michele will leave him if she receives a new medical treatment Alex attempts to keep Michele prisoner.

Beautifully composed shots of the streets, skies and waterways of Paris are used as a backdrop to the story in a series of stunning visuals which dominate the film.