1970 Director Jaromil Jires
Take Ingmar Berman's Seventh Veil mix it with Fellini's Amacord and have Andy Warhol direct it and you get this curious Czechoslovakian time piece. Although it contains much that is surreal it is not a surrealist film. It contains much that is gothic yet it is not a horror film. It contains much that is allegorical yet is not an allegory.
It charts the early passage of a girl from pre-pubescence to womanhood from her first period through a series of dreams and visions and her interpretations of others. Since Valerie is in shot the whole time, the film is definitely purely subjective and this would account for characters having multiple roles and incarnations. The motivation is overtly sexual in nature without becoming explicit, while her reactions are almost ambivalent.
Bearing in mind that this was produced in the early days of a communist regime it is a bold and intriguing film. There is much that irritates; some very stilted if not stiff acting, some very obvious continuity breaks, some very poor choreography. Yet there is a certain naive charm and fascination that comes some days after watching it. I think it is a small lost gem. There has certainly never been anything like it since.
152 films from 26 different countries covering a century of superb movie making.
Monday, 18 February 2013
Saturday, 2 February 2013
Uzak
2002 Director Nuri Bilge Ceylan
Set in a wintry Istanbul this film deals with the complexities of urban isolation.
A photographer's ordered life is thrown into turmoil with the arrival of his country cousin seeking employment in the city. Haunted by the feeling that the gap between his life and his ideals is growing, he grows increasingly irritated by his provincial young relative's encroachment into his colourless world.
This is a cinematic delight. Slow pans and long holds allow the viewer to absorb the atmosphere. The progression of the two characters is done through the medium of expression, because, with the exception of one long outburst by the Photographer, dialogue is sparse. The opening sequence is of particular note. Tarkovsky's influence abounds and Ceylan even managed to squeeze an extract of Stalker into the the frame. Seeing Istanbul covered in snow is such an unusual setting and one, I suspect, came about more by luck than planning. A director of fine talent that reminds me of the work produced by Andrei Zvyagintsev.
A photographer's ordered life is thrown into turmoil with the arrival of his country cousin seeking employment in the city. Haunted by the feeling that the gap between his life and his ideals is growing, he grows increasingly irritated by his provincial young relative's encroachment into his colourless world.
This is a cinematic delight. Slow pans and long holds allow the viewer to absorb the atmosphere. The progression of the two characters is done through the medium of expression, because, with the exception of one long outburst by the Photographer, dialogue is sparse. The opening sequence is of particular note. Tarkovsky's influence abounds and Ceylan even managed to squeeze an extract of Stalker into the the frame. Seeing Istanbul covered in snow is such an unusual setting and one, I suspect, came about more by luck than planning. A director of fine talent that reminds me of the work produced by Andrei Zvyagintsev.
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