LEFFEST – Lisboa & Sintra Film Festival 2019

We at Camera Coverage have been attending to the 2019 edition of the biggest film festival in Portugal and thought of speaking a little bit about the films we have been able to see. We got our heads around the whole section of the films in competition to the festival’s awards, and some of the new releases on other sections of the festival. Between all of these we thought of making our brief selection of films that are for us the highlights of the festival. Also, from Wednesday forth we are thinking of making more focused texts on what we think is our favourite of the festival, and the films that were awarded by the selected jury of the festival – that are to be announced in the 24^th of November.

For our list we have picked three highlights from the festival selection in the competition.

Atlantis, by Valentyn Vasyanovych

This year’s competition was packed with two films from the old Eastern Block that find themselves in somewhat the same category. These are The Criminal Man, by Dmitry Mamuliya and the afforementioned Atlantis, by Valentyn Vasyanovych. Both of these films are paced with care and drag the viewer into a very slow pacing, being easy to put them in what some call the “slow-cinema” category. However, while Atlantis presents consisted cathartic and poetic imagery, The Criminal Man seems to be a film in which there is a great central scene – arguably greater than any scene in Atlantis – and feeling a bit empty in comparison. Atlantis is a film that has its setting in a dystopic post-war Ukraine, following a main character suffering from PTSD. There are many scenes of despair, many moments where we may be led to think that Vasyanovych really has no hope for his country and his people after the consequences of the war. By the end though, we are faced with this flash of light, as poetically depicted as any of the shades of grey previously presented in the film, that remind us that the power of love and humanity is strong enough, not only to be reborn from the remnants of such war, but I would even say taht there is here a suggestion that this light may even prevent us from falling into this dark utopia if we keep it close to us.

Beanpole [Dylda], by Kantemir Balagov

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Arguably one of the most talked about films in the festival scene, Kantemir Balagov’s Beanpole deserves every bit of the attention it has received. The film deals with a plethora of complex themes, and presents them with, however extreme, 100% believable situations. The fluid sense we have – much of it provided by a sober set and art design – between all of these is impressive. From war trauma, to poverty, to complex romantic and motherhood dynamics, Beanpole seems to gather all of this seamlessly. It is a beautifully shot film, with a strong sense of colour and aesthetics, including a dynamic camera that switches from being handheld and really shaky to fluidity and steadiness at a pace that is hard to notice as we are mesmerized with everything that is being portrayed. The sense of pathos in Beanpole is the probably one of the strongest from the festival, and the performances are certainly the most convincing. A cinematic treat for the eyes, and an always important reminder of what extremes can the human soul deal with.

Fire Will Come [O Que Arde], by Oliver Laxe

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A personal favourite of ours, O Que Arde by Oliver Laxe is one of the most subtle and gentle depictions of the complex nature of human beings. Between the beautiful landscapes of Galicia and their absolute destruction there are humans and their complex, but nonetheless consequential, relationships. We follow Amador through his journey back home from being imprisoned for causing a massive forest fire in his region. He deals with his everyday chores in the countryside, next to his mother Benedita – a charming powerhouse of a 80 year old woman. There is a sense of silence and of the ephemeral throughout the whole of the film, despite the absolute chaos that is the nature of human existence. Even when filming the forest fire scenes there is a sense of calm, a sense of beauty and a sense of sobriety that gives opportunity to the viewer to mingle on the many subjects the film can extract from our lives. Family, ecology, social life, the rural world, decadence, destruction and limits. All of these and none of them at the same time. O Que Arde is without a doubt one of our 2019 favourites.

Other honourable mentions:

Tommaso, by Abel Ferrara
Balloon [Qi Qiu], by Pema Tseden
Atlantics [Atlantique] (out of competition), by Mati Diop

The Beach Bum (2019)

Directed by Harmony Korine

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“He may be a jerk, but he’s a great man.”

Korine became known on the movie industry for writing the screenplay for the critically acclaimed Kids (1995), being only 19 years old at the time. Made his directorial debut with Gummo (1997), Korine started to implement his vision for cinema. Unlike traditional American cinema (that depends heavily on the power of narrative), he prefers an approach not so plot based. The film flows freely along the small events that occur, without a sense of a strict plotline that must be respected. In a way his vision of cinema is closer to a European one, in line of a Godard or a Cassavetes (in terms of artistic inspiration, as in quality he is a few steps below still).

It is not in any sense a figure praised by everybody. His films create a divide both among critics and overall public. For instance, in his previous film Spring Breakers (2012) he tried to make a social commentary of naiveté and the new” American dream” the younger generations, using Florida as background. The result had some interesting notes but is one of those films that tries way hard to be more profound than it really is. And that is usually the reason that leaves people often disappointed with his work.

In Beach Bum Korine returns once again to Florida but using a different approach. Florida still maintains the very saturated colours that were used in Spring Breakers, along with some great cinematography. It carefully translates the warmness and tropical aspect of the place with some gorgeous backgrounds. The difference lies on the overall tone of the film. Florida is depicted usually in film as this tropical paradise, but the reality is usually grimmer than that. The Florida Project (Sean S. Baker,2017) did a great job portraying the lives of lower classes in a cheap motel, showing a rather dark side to the stifling blissfulness.

There are no taboos in Korine’s films, either it be sexual, drug use or violence and Beach Bum continues to follow that line. As the protagonist we have Moondog (Matthew McConaughey), this hardcore stoner that lives this extremely hedonistic life without rules. McConaughey plays with great ease a role that its not that new to him (as for instance Linklater’s Dazed and Confused (1993) ). As the film progresses, we learn that he used to be a great writer but now lives of his multimillionaire wife Minnie’s (Isla Fisher) bank account. It´s a non-conventional and open relationship, noted by the multiple affair that they both have, something that don’t seem to bother them that much. It’s only the event of their daughter Heather´s (Stefania LaVie Owen) wedding that brings them together once again. The absurdity of the wedding brings along some great comedic scenes as well some interesting caracters such as Lingerie (Snoop Dogg). Despite having an obvious affair with his wife, Moondog is still very fond of him. The film then takes an tragic turn that leaves Moondog completely broke and homeless. The only way of getting the money back if he writes a new book, something that he is avoiding for a long time.

These two events come without notice a shape the flow of the film. Throughout his ramblings he encounters some eccentric characters like Flicker (Zac Efron), an sociopath pyromaniac with an spiritual side, or Captain Wack (Martin Lawrence), with his fixation with dolphins. Everywhere he goes positivity follows him. There are no dirty places or bad people, everything is glowing in Beach Bum. His life seems completely chaotic and without any shape of planning. He is a free spirit, loved by everybody, and always with an unshakable positivity. It’s almost discomfortable his level of happiness, almost childlike and completely unaware of his surroundings. But it always works out well for him in the end, even when all could go wrong. The cathartic ending shows his views about money were purely utilitarian. He needed the money to continue his lifestyle, not for shows of grandeur and opulence. It can be seen as a critic to the money culture that rules over us and distracts us from the most important things in life.

Overall its an interesting experience that tries to convey a more positive outlook to the problems of the world. On a more profound level Moondog is a troubled soul showed by his alcoholism, drug abuse or his womanizer ways. Despite that he still has an inspiring way of guiding himself towards happiness as his main goal to life. It´s not a life changing film or his message is new by any chance but in the end, it makes up for a different and thought-provoking film experience.

6 out of 10

Ruben Brandt, Collector (2019)

Directed by Milorad Krstic

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“Art is the key to the troubles of the mind”

This week, for the first time on Camera Coverage, we’ll be taking a look at an animated feature. Coming from Hungary, Ruben Brandt, Collector is the first feature film of Milorad Krstic. A fairly unknown figure with only short movie credit (My Baby Left Me (1995) ), Krstic makes up a strong impression at the age of 66 years old. Regardless of its country of origin, the film is dubbed originally in English.

At the centre we have as the main character Ruben Brandt (voiced by Ivan Kamaras), a world-famous psychologist haunted by these weird and absurd dreams all connected with famous art pieces. The story advances between real life and dream sequences where famous paintings try to harm and kill Ruben. It is an extremely bizarre but captivating scenario to see; for instance, Velázquez’s Infanta Margarita Teresa in a Blue Dress (1659) trying to bite off his arm in a speeding train; or even a pistol duel against Andy Warhol’s Double Elvis (1963). These wonderful usages of famous art pieces from the western world redefine their meanings beautifully and with great taste.

The duel with Elvis

Ruben Brandt is himself an art lover. His methods for helping his patients all connect with art, as he is a true believer of self-artistic expression to exorcise one’s ghosts of the past. Asking for help dealing with her problem with kleptomania is Mimi (Gabriella Hamori), an art robber escaping from detective Mike Kowalski (Csaba “Kor” Márton). She and the other patients in Brandt’s luxurious clinic discover his problems related to his dreams and agree they all must help him. The problems that made them enter the clinic are all related to crime and stealing so teaming up to rob to steal Manet’s Olympia (1863) is not that big of a deal. When they show this painting stolen from the Musée d’Orsay in Paris to Brandt, his nightmares with the woman portrayed suddenly disappeared. He then joins the group to steal the rest of the paintings that still haunted his dreams. The gang raids numerous museums all around the world like the Louvre, MoMa, the Uffizi Gallery or the Art Institute of Chicago, ending up getting the attention of both authorities and gang members alike.The above-mentioned detective Kowalski tries to catch Mimi and the rest of the group before other criminals get to them, attracted by the huge bounty on their heads.

The storyline ends up emulating the classic Hollywood spy and cop movies genre, being a somewhat disappointing experience especially in the last third of the film. This is a film that is to be appreciated more by the originality of the embedded details rather than the narrative itself. There are plenty of heist films clichés, and the personality of the characters is not that deep or original, maybe except for the protagonist. Regarding the plot, points go certainly to the importance given to art and its relation to the well being of an individual. The connection between psychology and art is an interesting and refreshing one, especially in a world dominated by scientific thought.

Velazquez’s Infanta Margarida attack

Aesthetically this film leaves the viewer in awe by the gorgeous detail to both the characters and the world around them. People are portrayed as these cubistic with surrealistic undertones like a Picasso met Dali kind of style. Some have three eyes, others two heads, and, in a brilliant play with perspectives, there is a character that is bidimensional like a sheet of paper. It is an astonishing world completely filled with subtle references to all kinds of art, that goes from Soviet propaganda to American Realism painting. Besides that, a brilliant homage is also given to cinema, portrayed in the home collection of detective Kowalski. Filled with film memorabilia from Weneger’s Der Student von Prag (1913) poster to the small detail of ice cubes in the shape of Alfred Hitchcock, there´s a lot for any movie buff to enjoy in these small quirks.

Overall it was a pleasant surprise, and an animation like any other I’ve ever watched. The focus on the holistic aspect of art in the human mind is definably a positive aspect. In the end Ruben Brandt, Collector gives both an approachable introduction to art history and something that art enthusiasts can take also.

6 out of 10

Knife+Heart (2019)

(original title: Un couteau dans le cœur)

Directed by Yann Gonzalez

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“She saw so many gay flicks, she thought she was a fag.”

Yann Gonzalez is a French director known for his feature film You And The Night (2013) but mostly because of his many other short films. He is especially well regarded in the LGBTQ+ community for his preference on themes regarding sexuality and gender politics. Having won many prizes and nominations in important festivals like Cannes Film Festival, he is one of those directors to be watching out for if you are interested in art-house films of the new era. However, we feel on Camera Coverage that this new feature from Gonzalez is pretty much a mess, it is not without some singular scenes that are incredible, but it is indeed a bit of a mess.

The film follows Anne (Vanessa Paradis), a gay pornography film director, in her quest of filming her new feature that seems to be more bold and adventurous than her previous. This brings us close to the character and her relationship dynamics with her film editor Löis (Kate Moran) and her dealing with alcohol addiction. From the start we know that the film has as a main plot a giallo-esque story, with a serial killer that seems to be targeting the actors from Anne’s films. The connecion between the killer and the actors is left uknown until the end of the film, where we are bombarded with a traditional plot-twist from the great classics of the genre.

Vanessa Paradis as Anne

The film plays along the lines of what we may consider the supernatural giallo, especially in its first two acts. The relationship between Anne’s vision of her new picture and the killings is meant to be perceived, but sadly, with its ending, we are left hanging in the understanding of this relationship. Throughout her journey we are faced with many surrealist images that are traditional in these giallo films and Italian horror films of the 1960s and 1970s, but they seem to add little to the unravel of our characters quest. It is clear that there are many diagetic layers on Knife+Heart, but after seeing it and thought of it for a week I still feel that they are not only disconnected, but they are sadly disconnected, as most of them are individually incredible and contain a lot of contrasting and formally complex ideas working on a deep semiotic level. The insistence on creating a traditional giallo in structure does not work in the film as much as it does visually, and it lefts the viewer confused, frustrated and cheated.

Vanessa Paradis is one of the actors in later years that we feel, as lovers of photography in general, that has one of the most unique faces. The characterization of every character in the film, especially her’s, is incredibly stylized and works well comparing to the other aspects of the film. The whole visual aspect of the film is undeniably great. It works as a cool throwback to the films of the genre, but it works as a singular piece as well, despite its insistence on weird black and white thermal images when depicting dream sequences. However, even at the technical level (image and sound) Knife+Heart is not the best throwback to the giallo, particularly if we consider the incredible films that made reference to the genre we have seen in the last few years (like Berberian Sound Studio (2012) and Amer (2009) ).

One of the dream sequences

Falling short on others to describe the film, it feels disapointing. The director has achieved greatness with some of his short films (notably Les îles (2017) ), but this time he completely misses the target. Despite arguably being one of the films that are a throwback to the afforementioned genres that more truly incorporates not only the visual aesthetics but the structure of the giallo, it fails on creating a compelling experience by being too overwhelming and obtuse with its symbols and parallels. I feel that some of this may be due to how random some of the events in the film are, and the discrepancy of vibes in it. The play of the director regarding the meta aspect of the film (the films inside the film; the dreams inside the film; the dreams that are the film; the relationship between director and editor, etc) is interesting, as are the mirror images it tries to make with its individual scenes. Sadly it does not keep up with its promises (especially its depiction of the theme of obsessive and corrosive love) and mostly is an insatisfying experience, that while being really extreme and poignant in the depiction of a community and a genre of filmmaking that is really underapreciated and not valued as it should, it leaves the spectator feeling that it is a mere exercise in shock value and pretentiousness.

3.5 out of 10

Bibi Andersson || Persona (1966)

[Directed by Ingmar Bergman]

Earlier this week we have been braced with the devastating news of the death of the legendary actress Bibi Andersson. She is best known for her long collaboration with director Ingmar Bergman with whom she had made approximately twelve films. Andersson is responsible to the introduction of Liv Ullmann to Bergman, and therefore responsible for what is one of the most legendary collaborations in the history of cinema. Even though the spotlight is often on Ullmann, Bibi Andersson is the original muse of the director, and works as a strong homogenous figure in Bergman’s early work, only later her figure being noticeable as a “lighthearted” contrast to what was the “severity” of Liv Ullmann, especially on the masterpiece that is Persona.

Every film lover knows Persona. But it is also true that no one can truly deconstruct and interpret the film in what may be considered a “right way”. This is a film that is meant to work on a level that differs from our usual cinematic experiences. Most of this is due to the way both characters interact and the work of metamorphosis between the two. While, as mentioned before, Liv Ullmann plays the patient, an actress that is both austere and troubled, Bibi Andersson plays a deeply humane but also troubled nurse. While both performances are incredibly layered and dynamic, we are mostly guided by the eyes of nurse Alma in her quest to heal Elizabeth Vogler, that quickly turns into a therapy for her own troubles. The humanity and sincerity of Andersson’s performance brings to the film something for the viewer to relate to, something that is essential for Bergman’s work to function correctly in order to not transform into something completely obtuse and abstract. She is the perfect counterpart that bridges the complex states of mind and the complex artistic pretensions of the film into our everyday lives, creating in the end one of the most unheimlich experiences one can have with a film.

Bibi Andersson is the light of our everyday lives fading in the world of Bergman’s cinema. She brought reality and sensibility to films that would feel too cold and distant to be as relevant as they are today. This week we lost one of the big faces of Swedish cinema, and she will surely be remembered as one of the absolute icons of the history of film. We leave a list below of our favourite films she made part of. Bibi Andersson will not be forgotten.

The List:

Sommarnattens leende [Smiles of a Summer Night] (1955)
Det sjunde inseglet [The Seventh Seal] (1957)
Smultronstället [Wild Strawberries] (1957)
Djävulens öga [The Devil's Eye] (1960)
Syskonbädd 1782 [My Sister, My Love] (1966)
Persona (1966)
Flickorna [The Girls] (1968)
En passion [A Passion] (1969)
Scener ur ett äktenskap [Scenes from a Marriage] (1974)
An Enemy of the People (1978)
Quintet (1979)

The Wild Pear Tree (2019)

(original title: Ahlat Agaci)

Directed by Nuri Bilge Ceylan

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“Everyone has their own temperament. The thing is being able to accept and like it.”

The “new” (premiered in 2018’s Cannes Film Festival) film by the critically acclaimed Turkish director Nuri Bilge Ceylan is again a huge work in size. And again, Ceylan presents us a massive picture that feels even more entrancing than his previous film Winter Sleep (2014). The similarities between both films are obvious, as they both tell stories of writers. However, The Wild Pear Tree is way more accessible than Winter Sleep (2014) and more irreverent at the same time. Sadly, it does not quite hold up against the director’s best (most notably Once Upon A Time In Anatolia (2008) and Distant (2002) ), following some of the same small issues present in the 2014 film. This is, however, not a reason to dismiss the film, because even a lesser Nuri Bilge Ceylan film is still a way more interesting experience than most.

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The filmography of the director is notorious for having two specific characteristics: he is one of the big names associated with the so called “Slow Cinema”, and his films are incredibly wordy and verborraic at the same time. In The Wild Pear Tree this last characteristic is even more noticeable, with the “slow” and transcendental aspect feeling that it was put to side, and, when exercised, feeling a bit forced and out of tone. The film follows Sinan (Dogu Demirkol), a young writer that has finished his education to be a primary school teacher like his father. He is also working on publishing a book he wrote, and most of the first part of the film follows his struggle in finding money to be able to do it. This is the main situation we are presented with the main character, but the film, since the beginning, has an intense focus on the relationship between Sinan and his father Idris (Murat Cemcir), who is a man caught in a downward spiral of gambling and unmesurable debt.

Despite the film mainly following Sinan and his interactions with many of the townsfolk, and even a famous writer, it is on the father-son dynamic presented that the film truly shines. The character development of Sinan, while honest and relatable, is never biased in trying to depict him as a truly well-meant individual at all. His father is depicted with some really harsh situations as well. However, their personalities are completely different. The evolution of the story is one that is settled on the idea that both these characters are antagonistic, and ends with the most incredible note of transcendental family bonding energy that completely disrupts all the insistence on creating such opposite characters.

Idris, a truly incredible performance by Murat Cemcir

The problem with The Wild Pear Tree when comparing it with other Ceylan films is that this time Ceylan feels that is touching on much more coloquial and generic themes, and unsuccesfully trying to elevate them all at the same time. It is a weirdly paced film, with scenes that range from the themes of death and religion to relationships and love, sometimes presenting them with no apparent connection to each other. Sadly, it also doesn’t always succeed on being truly poignant in the portrayal of a lot of these themes, with the noticeable exception being the depicted problems regarding family dynamics. The film being dialogue driven does not help it in achieving the poetic intensity of his previous films as well, despite turning the film into a more enjoyable and quickly relatable experience to the viewer. It makes some of its scenes feel like they are too predictable, and some of the “funny moments” in the film feel odd in the overall picture. The idea of quickly cutting scenes that are supposedly happening in the characters minds or in dreams do not always work as well, and do not go well at all with the also stylistic and expected “slow” style of the director.

“Someone once called time a silent saw. You never know what it’ll do to us.”

That said, the conclusion of the film will leave you with unforgiving anxiety. Ceylan shows us with scenes like these why he is one of the most lyrical filmmakers out there, despite sadly going off the rails in The Wild Pear Tree. The odd pacing of the film is distracting and almost unforgivable to a director that already made so many great things. The visual aspect of the film is top notch, especially the scenes in winter time, but even regarding this, sometimes the digital camera seems to not be able to capture as well some of the scenes as it should. The soundtrack is unnexpectedly great and one of the best yet in his filmography. However, while not being as problematic in some of the aforementioned aspects as Winter Sleep (2014) was, The Wild Pear Tree is still not the hyper comeback we were expecting, despite having one of the most cathartic closures in any of Ceylan’s films. It is a frustatingly imperfect film with a lot of incredible singular scenes. But for some of those scenes alone and the incredible depiction of the relationship between Sinan and Idris, The Wild Pear Tree is still a film to look out for.

7 out of 10

Antonio das Mortes (1969)

(original title: O Dragão da Maldade contra o Santo Guerreiro)

Directed by Glauber Rocha

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“Fight with the strength of your ideas. They are more worthy than me.”

Glauber Rocha was the leading figure of Brazil’s Cinema Novo (New Cinema) movement. This period of Brazilian cinema is characterized by it being deeply influenced by the subversive nature of the Nouvelle Vague and the social consciousness of Italian neorrealism. Considering the importance of this movement, and the importance of Glauber Rocha especially, to the cinema that followed it, I decided to pick what is probably one of the most iconic and highly acclaimed films from this period, Antonio das Mortes. This western-ish film is a prime example of all the characteristics of the movement. It displays the deep passion for the art form and a clear and unashamed political statement that, despite being more relevant considering the socio-political situation of Brazil at the time, pushes its universal themes higher. Also, if we consider the current political scenery in the country, we can quickly find some of the more universal statements of the film surprisingly poignant to a public inside and outside of the contemporary realities of Brazil.

The situation presented in the film is the hiring of Antonio das Mortes (Mauricio do Valle) to help some businessman to get rid of the cangaceiro bandits. As a mercenary, and together with his association with the villainized land owners, his quest for cleaning these lands leads him to a revelation of who is in need of real help. The main idea in the film surrounds this realization of Antonio das Mortes’ identity. This translates into a realization of his national identity and his spiritual identity. Glauber’s film is filled to the brim with cultural (especially religious) imagery that is notoriously Brazilian. The path he walks fights the evil tendencies of capitalism in the country and the protectionism that was due to the military dictatorship that was in rule during the film’s release.

The political inclinations of Glauber’s work are easily observed, and Antonio das Mortes is no different than Land in Anguish (1967) for instance. Marxist belief is crystal clear in the film’s presentation. However, having that said, the fundamental questions proposed in Antonio das Mortes show that there was a resistance to the opressive government of the time. One could say that Glauber’s ideology is näive, but the intensity of his imagery regarding cultural identity give the film a surrealist and almost transcendental feeling that go beyond the political statement it was presenting in 1969. Juxstaposing it with an interpretation of the traditional Western film tropes (one could say that the cangaceiros in Brazil are almost like the cowboy mercenaries in the US), the director is creating an incredibly cathartic experience that has a lot more to say regarding the true singularity of Brazil’s cultural life than just overlapping the film’s plot with politics.

The essencial marxist dilemma of this particular film is that there are those who own and those who do not own. Facing this situation, Antonio has to make his decision on who to help, as he does in the film’s remarkably poetic ending. This decision has a lot more implications that it may seem at first, though. By helping the ones in need, Antonio as a mercenary is liberating and delivering to these supposedly “digressive” people what was taken from them, in an almost Robin Hood-esque fashion. By doing so he regards the beautiful exotic distinctiveness and individuality of the ‘real’ Brazil over the bourgeois corruption of the masses represented in the film as the businessmen.

The film’s plastic aspect contributes greatly to its themes. The soundtrack in the film is mainly illustrative, adding an almost Greek chorus-like element to the whole piece. Visually it may be regarded as exotic, hyperbolic and exaggerated. However, the insistence on the Western tropes together with their metamorphosis with Brazilian imagery show how Glauber’s care for the representation of this foundational and almost spiritual Brazil transcends the film’s plot.

If you are into foreign films that feel truly foreign, that feel truly exotic and culturally different, then Antonio das Mortes is a must watch. I tried to make justice to the film, and tried to avoid the possibly distasteful analysis of the film’s politics, but this is a work to be experienced. It is as real and poetic as you can get from a country that is in a dire need for some sort of rehabilitation of tradition and identity in the best possible way, as much as it is in need of a recovery of some of the values that Antonio finds throughout his journey.

[ I am sorry for the bad quality of the still pictures, but I was unable to find a better print of the film. ]

Utvandrarna (1971) / Nybyggarna (1972)

(eng:The Emigrants / The New Land)

Directed by Jan Troell

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The construction of the modern United States was a long and laborious process that encompassed many hardships by the countless ethnic groups that help created. Millions of people from all around the world embarked on ships to the American continent with the hope for a better life, incited by the “American Dream” that would bring freedom and economic prosperity, something lacking in their place of origin. Unfortunately, the country was built with more than free labour, with slavery and other racist cruelties being imposed to certain ethnic groups.

“Many slaves have better dwellings, food, clothing and working conditions than most peasants in Europe”

In these films, the focus is given to a Swedish family in the mid-nineteenth-century. Sweden is represented far from the image of prosperity that we relate with today’s Nordic countries. It is primarily an agricultural economy, with an engrained protestant ethos. It’s a difficult life, with years of bad crops creating harsh conditions of life, allied with religious persecutions. The film takes focus on the couple made up of Karl Oskar (Max von Sydow) and Kristina (Liv Ullmann), inhabitants of Smalanda, a small farming town. Despite the economic difficulties their family grows, ending up with four offspring. The idea of emigrating to America is conveyed to Karl Oskar by his brother Robert (Eddie Axberg). Kristina refuses fearing for the safety of her children during a arduous transatlantic voyage. The death of their oldest daughter to overeating unfermented grain finally convinces the wife to abandon her hometown and embark on a perilous trip to United States. After selling everything they have, the trip begins, with some family friends and religious exiles.

One moment that is one of the biggest highlights of the film is without a doubt the farewell to their hometown. The director Jan Troell does a stellar job focusing the faces of the ones leaving that impoverish and grey land. The looks to the ones that stay, whether be family or old friends, are a sight that knows that is almost certain that they will not return to this place. It is a bittersweet feeling that almost makes the viewer a passenger in that old wagon that will take them to the boat. It’s without a doubt a very powerful scene that truly shows the experience of leaving one’s home country and all the contrast of feelings with that situation.

.The ones that stay behind

The boat trip that follows shows, in a unique kind of manner the horrendous way that travelling the Atlantic Ocean was for the lower economical classes. Unlike today, the trip lasted for weeks, in an overcrowded boat, with very few preoccupations with hygiene, food or the comfort of its passengers. This kind of conditions are perfect for the transmission of diseases, and even the death of some of the passengers. It’s a claustrophobic feeling inside the large ship, leaving the viewer almost as anxious for the end of the trip as the travellers.

This kind of hardships and the detail for realism depicted in the films certainly makes the viewer feel a certain compassion with the characters. These moments portrayed are not gratuitous displays of poverty and the horrors of it just to shock the viewer or to take cheap lessons of humbleness from it. They are a part of history that sometimes is either forgotten or romanced by the newer generations. The United States of America were formed by emigrants that went to great lengths to give themselves and their descendants opportunities of life impossible in their countries of origin. It is certainly ironic that some of the people that descended from these impoverish and in need migrants now display fearmongering views against ones in similar situations.

Clocking more than seven hours of time length, both the films show a crude and genuine view during this period. They are sometimes slow movies and that take time to develop. Sydow and Ullman have truly a remarkable and honest performances, marked by a deep complicity with each other, and are accompanied by a cast of interesting and sometimes quirky secondary characters.

Film poster for Nybyggarna (1972)

As a follow up for Utvandrarna we have Nybyggarna (1972) by the same director, where we can follow the journey of the Karl Oskar’s family as they settle in a terrain In Minnesota. Here we are introduced to new problematics that challenge the idea of the so called “American Dream”. The richness of the new land is not enough for his brother Robert so he decides to go West, chasing the California Gold Rush. The war against the Sioux, a Native-American tribe (in the Dakota War of 1862) leaves his family in peril, with some perishing to indigenous warriors. On top of that, his wife has several problems with miscarriages and ends up getting dangerously ill. Like mentioned above it was a very difficult life in Sweden, but the change to America doesn’t seem to make it that much better. It’s a dangerous and lawless land and it would take years to create a stable State and a better growing economy. For ones interested in the knowing how the United States came to be, both the films are unavoidable because they create without a doubt a mental picture of the time that cannot be comprehended only by reading history books. It gives a voice to these people that made the ultimate sacrifice for a better future for them despite terrible adversities.

Us (2019)

Directed by Jordan Peele

“We’re Americans.”

After the massive hit that was Get Out (2017), Jordan Peele kept showing his love for horror and a will to keep on writing new material in the genre. The subtexts and politics of Get Out (2017) were clear and well transformed into a more or less consistent concept. The value of the film was deposited in the dynamic of this transaction of racial politics into the horror film discourse, and by provoking the viewer with suggestive and anarchic ideas (similar to the one’s by Spike Lee). It was a film that worked as a genre piece but utilized its strengths to reach the public and confront them with realities that while terrifying are enlightening. Daniel Kaluuya presented us one great performance, backed by an incredible supporting cast. That is the main thing that mirrors and is enhanced in Us. The performances are well-above average and the film owes its cast a lot for its dynamic between horror and comedy (presented even more extremely than in Peele’s previous).

Shadows and reflections are essential elements of the film

The game of mirrors presented in Us starts right of the bat with the name of the film. There is ‘Us’ and ‘US’, and with that information in mind we can expect the film to present certain political ideas. The problem with it is that most of the times the small scenes are full of certain meanings that contrast with the main concept of the film, creating a lot of room for interpretation, especially considering the film as an exercise in ideology. The best thing about the film (after Lupita Nyong’o’s mesmerizing performance) is arguably how vague its political readings can be. We are teased with the idea of it being a political film with the title alone, and yet the film challenges us to dig deeper to find any consistent concepts regarding its ideas. Despite touching on the subject of racism, Peele’s vision is now aiming at broader issues with Us.

Being a comercial film, it comes with its problems. Some of the scenes in the film are too predictable in its stereotypes. What helps the film to get over these scenes is its usage in an almost metalinguistic cinematic way. Peele knows his horror clichés and uses them in an ironic way briliantly, playing with our expectations and creating genuinely funny moments. As an European citizen it is hard to understand the realities of racism in America (mostly due to our racial prejudices being of a different nature and having a different expression), so probably these complaints at the end of the day are just conditioned by my personal life experience. Having this in mind, Us regards the subject of racism in a lighter way than what was expected, especially considering its main theme. This is not a negative criticism at all, because as I mentioned before, the vagueness of Us adds a lot to any reading of the film, including a reading inclined to the ideas of racism.”

Visually it is more interesting than Get Out (2017), despite being a completely different film. It is creative and intelligent in its visual style, enough to be noticeable when comparing it to other big horror blockbusters. However, it still ends up feeling a little bit flat, just like Peele’s previous did. The use of music is brilliantly funny, and the original soundtrack is really great as well, especially the anthemic track (that reminds me almost of The Omen‘s (1976) soundtrack). Technically it is satisfying enough, never being truly flabbergasting.

The already iconic shot from Us

By what I’ve said so far one would assume that Us is a brilliant film. But it is not. It is too vague and too self-conscious to be just a commercial film to watch at the mall, and too predictable in its techniques and paralells to be a really serious and innovative picture. One of the things that troubles me the most is that its vagueness translates a lot into meaninglessness, even though it is clear that there was a care in creating a well-rounded plot (in a Hitchockian way) and complete concept. The second thing that annoys me is the necessity to overexplain everything in the end. The “plot-twist” was rather predictable and despite the film having a lot of interesting buried plot points, it leaves a more experienced viewer feeling that the film is being condescending.

This text took into consideration spoilers and I decided to not discuss any of the plot, as it is very fun to watch without knowing what it is about. Gather some friends and go watch it. Probably every person will come out of the theater with a different reading of the film (I read somewhere that a guy thinks that the film is somehow anti-socialist. I highly doubt that though) and it is an enjoyable time in the cinema. Don’t expect too much out of it, but face it with enough seriousness to consider it, as it is clear that a lot of work and dedication went into it. Jordan Peele seems like he will be the new horror genre director to look out for, though.

6 out of 10

Gräns (2019)

(eng: Border)

Directed by Ali Abbasi

grans 1

“I don’t see the point of evil.”

Inspired on a novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist (better known for Let The Right One In), Border is one of the films to have a lot of controversy and high regard last year. To it was awarded the Un Certain Regard award at Cannes, and it even managed to swiftly get a nomination to the Oscar for Best Achievement in Makeup and Hairstyling. The controversy is mainly due to the sexual nature of its themes. It is an undeniably shocking film. The usage its shock value is, however, very pertinent. As Let The Right One In (2008), the transformation of Lindqvist’s story into film works brilliantly, combining the already poignant themes present in the words and visually expanding them, something that is even more noticeable in Border, mainly due to the irreverence and shamelessness of the film’s imagery.

The film follows Tina (Eva Melander), a security officer working on border control, and he daily routine. She is not blessed by standards of Western beauty and has a menacing look that works well with her magical power of being able to smell people’s feelings. She lives an unhappy marriage and has no friends other than her mentally-ill father. There are two big changes in her life when she smells a memory card on a passenger’s phone that is full of snuff films and child pornography and on another scene sees a guy that is oddly similar to her and confuses her special sensibilities. These changes lead to two inner plots in the film that consist on one side a detective thriller-like film and on the other a romantic story that leads to Tina’s discovery of her true identity.

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Border is a story of fluid bodies and souls trapped in an ordered world. Tina and Vore (Eero Milonoff) are figurations of chaos inside an organized Western society. However, if we consider the sexual nature of the film we quickly understand that there is a political edge to this chaos. Combined with the ideas of social isolation, foreignness and family issues we understand that the new dynamic presented by these two special characters is an amalgamation of every otherness that exists in our contemporary world. So far so great. The problem with the film is that while presenting brilliant ideas, it overly complicates them and by the end it leaves an undesirable odd feeling to the viewer. Of course this ending can be read as an anarchic solution to the aforementioned themes, or even as a following to the mythology presented half-way into the story, but never does it feel as smooth as expected. Comparing it to something like the ending of Do The Right Thing (1989), for instance, it feels really off considering the way the plot devices work beforehand.

Technically it is a decent film. It never does something that is not expected from an ultra-realist style film. Sometimes the camera seems to be too shaky, and even nauseating at times. In other scenes, the fast movements of the camera and all the shakiness contribute greatly to the inner beauty of the film. The original soundtrack is very enchanting and is really on the same page with the tone of the film. The make-up effects are pristine, as is Melander’s performance. I would say Eero Milonoff’s performance is never up to par with Melander’s, and sometimes is not even really good at all. But then again, that is never a big problem (even if combined with the shaky camera aspect of the film) if we face it with the originality and boldness of all the other decisions surrounding it.

One of the great visual moments in Gräns

The reason I was not a big fan of Let The Right One In (2008) is probably the reason I am actually a big fan of Border. It is a consciously awkward film, one that is aiming specifically at shocking the viewer in order to get its ideas out there. Most of the times this technique does not work, but with Border it does, as it is probably the perfect figurative film of the many lost souls in our monotonous society. Even though it is not perfect, particularly the thrilleresque subplot, Border works a lot better than expected. This review tried to say as little as possible about the singular elements of the film because in order for it to work it is mandatory to watch it with little knowledge about what is so special about it. It released in Portugal last week despite having been distributed in the rest of the world earlier this year. Still, try and watch it on stream or DVD, because if you don’t, you will be missing what is probably the most excruciatingly, cringeworthy and at the same time beautiful sex scene of the last few years (and for that alone it deserves ½ a point).

6.5 out of 10