Released: 2008
Director: Jaume Balagueró
Cast: Manuela Velasco; Pablo Rosso; Ferrán Terraza; David Vert
[⚫REC] is another film in the 'reality cinema' category – like Cloverfield (made around the same time) and, if you remember it, The Blair Witch Project – in which we are presented with 'found footage' recovered in the aftermath of some sort of disaster. Everything we see is through a hand-held camera with a shakiness that's meant to make it 'real'. Although on a large screen this might give you motion sickness, it does lend it a surface reality which is intended to draw us in and heighten the scariness. Have to say, that didn't really work for me, but despite that I did really like this film. So did a lot of other people: it was popular with the critics, won a couple of Goyas (although it won a lot more awards at the Catalonian Film Festival, surprise, surprise) and is probably the most internationally well-known Spanish horror film, it's already spawned the predictable, shot-for-shot American remake.
Anyway, to the story... Ángela, a young, enthusiastic and inexperienced TV presenter together with a single cameraman, Pablo is shadowing the night shift in a Barcelona fire station for an episode of Mientras ustedes duermen (While You're Sleeping). For a while it's deliberately dull with Ángela appearing increasingly desperate for an emergency and some decent footage. Finally, she gets her wish and the crew respond to a call about an elderly woman trapped and shouting in her apartment. They meet the police there and in they go, deal with the various inhabitants of the building and then it's upstairs to see about the poor old lady. Without giving too much away, soon after this, the biting starts and suddenly we're into a classic zombie virus situation, complicated and contained by the fact that the authorities are remarkably efficient and have sealed the entire building (it's a bio-emergency, folks) before they can all run downstairs screaming and out into the street.
The scariest film ever, as the box says? Well, no. Not for me anyway. Quite scary in places, a few make-you-jump moments, and some nice tension-building at the start while we're wondering how will it all kick off but all told, it didn't raise my heart rate that much and I think the problem may be that because of the hand-held camera conceit, it just doesn't feel that real.
This might seem an odd statement given the 'realistic' premise of a single, unpolished viewpoint. However, cinematic reality (as opposed to real reality, whatever that is) is whatever we are used to seeing. Which is to say, the usual camera angles and shots and so forth which try to immerse the viewer in the action. By offering a viewpoint so different to the norm, [⚫REC] points up the unreality of all cinema and – by extension – of itself too. It therefore creates a separation between the viewer and the viewed which prevented me from buying into the film's reality which prevented me from identifying with events and characters on-screen and, ultimately, from caring. And if you don't care, you can't be scared.
Or at least, that's my pseudo-intellectual rationalisation for why I wasn't hiding behind the dog, whimpering with fear and wishing we'd watched The Sound of Music instead (although, to be fair, that is a scary movie!)
At 75 minutes, it's quite a short film and that works to its credit. Hollywood can overdo the repetition in this sort of plot with too many narrow escapes and chase scenes as the (often teenage) cast are picked off one by one. There's certainly some picking-off here, but each scene adds something to the story and it's never overly drawn out. Once we're in the building the pace is fast and remains so right to the end. Good ending too, and the right one, given the circumstances.
So, if you want constant, pants-wetting terror I can't recommend it (although many others have for just that) but if you want an intelligent, interesting zombie film (with a very interesting twist when we find out where the virus came from) with some good scares then I can. And I do.
Apparently, there's a sequel ([⚫REC]2) which picks up directly where the first finishes. It's similarly claustrophobic and at just 85 minutes, you could quite comfortably watch them as a double bill.
Tuesday 13 April 2010
Thursday 1 April 2010
"La habitación de Fermat" - "Fermat's Room"
Released: 2007
Director: Luis Piedrahita & Rodrigo Sopeña
Cast: Lluís Homar; Santi Millán; Alejo Sauras; Elena Ballesteros; Federico Luppi
I think the last time the name Fermat featured in popular(?) entertainment was in the late 90s series Horizon, which broadcast the documentary, Fermat's Last Theorem. Unlike Horizon, the film, La Habitación de Fermat isn't actually about mathematics. It's a clever and stylish suspense thriller which uses the world of higher maths to give itself some intellectual allure.
Put simply, four mathematicians are invited to a seminar to discuss the ultimate mathematical enigma. One is a man in his 20s already feted for having solved Goldbach's Conjecture, although his proof was stolen before he could present it. Another is an inventor who puts his genius to practical use, creating anything from hydraulic presses to novelty popcorn makers. The third man is an elder member of the academia, a chess-player entertaining thoughts of suicide. To complete the quartet we have a woman about whom we know little (more on her later). Each has been sent a badge with the name of a famous mathematician – Galois, Pascal, Hilbert, Oliva – as a sort of anonymising nom-de-math. Once at their destination, they are joined by Fermat for dinner before getting down to business. However, Fermat is then unexpectedly called away and the fun begins. Our four protagonists are sent a puzzle via a PDA; they have one minute to solve it. Solve it they do but not in under a minute and once the minute is up the walls of the room start to move inwards, only stopping when the correct answer is entered in the PDA. It now becomes a race against time to solve the continuing puzzles, figure out who is really behind it all and try to escape before being crushed together.
It's an interesting conceit. The plot is essentially that of a somebody-wants-to-kill-us-all horror film but with all the gore removed (apart from the prospect of their ultimate compaction) and the characters having to rely on their brains. Without wishing to spoil, let's just say that all the characters were invited for a reason and there are a number of twists and turns before the climax.
Incidentally, if you're worried that maths puzzles will a bit dry and unengaging, don't be. The series of puzzles sent via the PDA are more logic problems than advanced calculus. The first example is as follows: A confectioner takes delivery of three boxes of sweets. One of mint sweets; one of aniseed sweets; and one a mixture of the two. Each box is labelled, “Mint”, “Aniseed” or “Mixture”. All the boxes are wrongly labelled. How many sweets must the confectioner remove in order to correctly label all three boxes? You might still find this dry and unengaging. Fair enough. If you do, just focus on the plot and the emerging backgrounds of the characters and the ratcheting suspense. By the way, the answer is: 1.
Back to the woman, codename Oliva. Of the four, she's the only one about whom we are shown nothing prior to the meeting. And what we do find out during the course of their entrapment seems to revolve around sex. Yes, she holds up her end of the puzzle-solving but unlike the others, we're not given anything about her maths credentials, ability, qualifications, etc. Without wishing to come over excessively feminist, I can't help but observe that the sole female character is the least-developed and most disposable of the four. If I were to be charitable, I might consider that perhaps the writers left her deliberately blurry to create suspicion. However, I have to say I didn't think it was her for a moment.
But I wouldn't want that one point to detract from what is otherwise a great film that engages with the brain as well as the gut. The tension winds tighter as the room grows smaller and the characters' deductions creep closer to the truth. It's a film that contrives to flatter your intelligence without actually being that hard to follow.
And, of course, with the added benefit – for those so inclined – that you can jot down the puzzles and annoy your friends with them.
Director: Luis Piedrahita & Rodrigo Sopeña
Cast: Lluís Homar; Santi Millán; Alejo Sauras; Elena Ballesteros; Federico Luppi
I think the last time the name Fermat featured in popular(?) entertainment was in the late 90s series Horizon, which broadcast the documentary, Fermat's Last Theorem. Unlike Horizon, the film, La Habitación de Fermat isn't actually about mathematics. It's a clever and stylish suspense thriller which uses the world of higher maths to give itself some intellectual allure.
Put simply, four mathematicians are invited to a seminar to discuss the ultimate mathematical enigma. One is a man in his 20s already feted for having solved Goldbach's Conjecture, although his proof was stolen before he could present it. Another is an inventor who puts his genius to practical use, creating anything from hydraulic presses to novelty popcorn makers. The third man is an elder member of the academia, a chess-player entertaining thoughts of suicide. To complete the quartet we have a woman about whom we know little (more on her later). Each has been sent a badge with the name of a famous mathematician – Galois, Pascal, Hilbert, Oliva – as a sort of anonymising nom-de-math. Once at their destination, they are joined by Fermat for dinner before getting down to business. However, Fermat is then unexpectedly called away and the fun begins. Our four protagonists are sent a puzzle via a PDA; they have one minute to solve it. Solve it they do but not in under a minute and once the minute is up the walls of the room start to move inwards, only stopping when the correct answer is entered in the PDA. It now becomes a race against time to solve the continuing puzzles, figure out who is really behind it all and try to escape before being crushed together.
It's an interesting conceit. The plot is essentially that of a somebody-wants-to-kill-us-all horror film but with all the gore removed (apart from the prospect of their ultimate compaction) and the characters having to rely on their brains. Without wishing to spoil, let's just say that all the characters were invited for a reason and there are a number of twists and turns before the climax.
Incidentally, if you're worried that maths puzzles will a bit dry and unengaging, don't be. The series of puzzles sent via the PDA are more logic problems than advanced calculus. The first example is as follows: A confectioner takes delivery of three boxes of sweets. One of mint sweets; one of aniseed sweets; and one a mixture of the two. Each box is labelled, “Mint”, “Aniseed” or “Mixture”. All the boxes are wrongly labelled. How many sweets must the confectioner remove in order to correctly label all three boxes? You might still find this dry and unengaging. Fair enough. If you do, just focus on the plot and the emerging backgrounds of the characters and the ratcheting suspense. By the way, the answer is: 1.
Back to the woman, codename Oliva. Of the four, she's the only one about whom we are shown nothing prior to the meeting. And what we do find out during the course of their entrapment seems to revolve around sex. Yes, she holds up her end of the puzzle-solving but unlike the others, we're not given anything about her maths credentials, ability, qualifications, etc. Without wishing to come over excessively feminist, I can't help but observe that the sole female character is the least-developed and most disposable of the four. If I were to be charitable, I might consider that perhaps the writers left her deliberately blurry to create suspicion. However, I have to say I didn't think it was her for a moment.
But I wouldn't want that one point to detract from what is otherwise a great film that engages with the brain as well as the gut. The tension winds tighter as the room grows smaller and the characters' deductions creep closer to the truth. It's a film that contrives to flatter your intelligence without actually being that hard to follow.
And, of course, with the added benefit – for those so inclined – that you can jot down the puzzles and annoy your friends with them.
Tuesday 23 March 2010
"Mar Adentro" - "The Sea Inside"
Released: 2004
Director: Alejandro Almenábar
Cast: Javier Bardem; Belén Rueda; Lola Dueñas;
The back of the DVD box says this film, “...celebrates the nature of freedom and love, and the mystery and beauty of life.” Well, I've certainly read worse blurbs; at least this one seems to have been written by somebody who's actually watched the film. But while I agree with the description, I'd have to add another word: pride. And in Spain, it's not a big step from pride to machismo. Still, more on that later. First, some context.
According to IMDB, Mar Adentro won 61 awards around the world (and of course, was nominated for even more). Perhaps most famously, it won an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film but more impressive is the board-sweeping that took place at the Goyas: 14 awards, including Best Film, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director, Best Cinematography, you name it. So, quite highly thought of then, but what's it about?
The film is based on the true story of Ramón Sampedro, a Galician who spent almost 30 years fighting for the right to die after an accident left him paralysed from the neck down. We meet Ramón when he's in his fifties, long-used to the inevitable limitations of his situation and – in all practical ways – adapted to it. However, Ramón is adamant that for him this is no life worth living and he rationally, clearly and relentlessly argues and demands his right to die with dignity. He's aided by Gené, from a euthanasia lobbying group; Julia, a lawyer with a personal interest in the issues; Rosa, a local woman who is drawn to his plight; and his elder brother's family, with whom he lives and who are his primary carers.
The film focuses on Ramón's relationship with Julia and Rosa both of whom are attracted to him in different ways and for different reasons. As these relationships play out simultaneously we see what sort of man Ramón is. Given the film's subject, journey's end is fairly inevitable but it's the route taken that draws us in without mercy.
Ramón is a man who still loves life, but not the one he's got. He's made a firm decision that he will not accept the fragments of the existence left to him. This decision is ruthlessly adhered to by suppressing all memory of his past self and also any possibility of fulfilment in the present. The consequence is that he finds it difficult to take any happiness that may be offered him. This is where the pride comes in: Ramón is proud enough not to settle for less having once lived life to the full. His pride enables him to live (and die) with dignity despite everything. However, that same pride has prevented him from fully accepting any moments of joy, happiness, triumph, etc. along the way. He may have enjoyed them at the time, but he then boxes them away, never to be reopened lest they undermine his resolve. We see instances when Julia and Rosa's presence in his life enable Ramón to acknowledge that life can be precious, under any circumstances, but he never truly wavers.
Meanwhile, all around him are people who love, support and care for him (each in their own way) and yet who all have their own personal agendas, conscious or no. Whether it's his brother's moral resentment, his sister-in-law's maternal possessiveness, his nephew's need for a better father figure or Ramón's own father's dementia-fuelled denial, they all demonstrate utterly real responses to the responsibility that they cannot shirk.
Ultimately, Ramón is a charismatic and likeable protagonist and we, the audience are sucked into the moral dilemma. Namely, that we like him, we admire him and we want him to succeed but for Ramón, success means killing himself, so by wishing him well we are also wishing him dead.
A tightly-written, brilliantly-acted (the whole cast is superb and Bardem has possibly never looked more convincing) drama of human frailty and determination centred on a huge moral question. A question, by the way, to which Mar Adentro is unafraid to give a clear answer.
P.S. What is it with these translated titles? Yes, “mar” means “sea” and “adentro” means “inside”, but the phrase “mar adentro” actually translates as “out at sea” which – I beg to suggest – is symbolically quite different.
Director: Alejandro Almenábar
Cast: Javier Bardem; Belén Rueda; Lola Dueñas;
The back of the DVD box says this film, “...celebrates the nature of freedom and love, and the mystery and beauty of life.” Well, I've certainly read worse blurbs; at least this one seems to have been written by somebody who's actually watched the film. But while I agree with the description, I'd have to add another word: pride. And in Spain, it's not a big step from pride to machismo. Still, more on that later. First, some context.
According to IMDB, Mar Adentro won 61 awards around the world (and of course, was nominated for even more). Perhaps most famously, it won an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film but more impressive is the board-sweeping that took place at the Goyas: 14 awards, including Best Film, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director, Best Cinematography, you name it. So, quite highly thought of then, but what's it about?
The film is based on the true story of Ramón Sampedro, a Galician who spent almost 30 years fighting for the right to die after an accident left him paralysed from the neck down. We meet Ramón when he's in his fifties, long-used to the inevitable limitations of his situation and – in all practical ways – adapted to it. However, Ramón is adamant that for him this is no life worth living and he rationally, clearly and relentlessly argues and demands his right to die with dignity. He's aided by Gené, from a euthanasia lobbying group; Julia, a lawyer with a personal interest in the issues; Rosa, a local woman who is drawn to his plight; and his elder brother's family, with whom he lives and who are his primary carers.
The film focuses on Ramón's relationship with Julia and Rosa both of whom are attracted to him in different ways and for different reasons. As these relationships play out simultaneously we see what sort of man Ramón is. Given the film's subject, journey's end is fairly inevitable but it's the route taken that draws us in without mercy.
Ramón is a man who still loves life, but not the one he's got. He's made a firm decision that he will not accept the fragments of the existence left to him. This decision is ruthlessly adhered to by suppressing all memory of his past self and also any possibility of fulfilment in the present. The consequence is that he finds it difficult to take any happiness that may be offered him. This is where the pride comes in: Ramón is proud enough not to settle for less having once lived life to the full. His pride enables him to live (and die) with dignity despite everything. However, that same pride has prevented him from fully accepting any moments of joy, happiness, triumph, etc. along the way. He may have enjoyed them at the time, but he then boxes them away, never to be reopened lest they undermine his resolve. We see instances when Julia and Rosa's presence in his life enable Ramón to acknowledge that life can be precious, under any circumstances, but he never truly wavers.
Meanwhile, all around him are people who love, support and care for him (each in their own way) and yet who all have their own personal agendas, conscious or no. Whether it's his brother's moral resentment, his sister-in-law's maternal possessiveness, his nephew's need for a better father figure or Ramón's own father's dementia-fuelled denial, they all demonstrate utterly real responses to the responsibility that they cannot shirk.
Ultimately, Ramón is a charismatic and likeable protagonist and we, the audience are sucked into the moral dilemma. Namely, that we like him, we admire him and we want him to succeed but for Ramón, success means killing himself, so by wishing him well we are also wishing him dead.
A tightly-written, brilliantly-acted (the whole cast is superb and Bardem has possibly never looked more convincing) drama of human frailty and determination centred on a huge moral question. A question, by the way, to which Mar Adentro is unafraid to give a clear answer.
P.S. What is it with these translated titles? Yes, “mar” means “sea” and “adentro” means “inside”, but the phrase “mar adentro” actually translates as “out at sea” which – I beg to suggest – is symbolically quite different.
Thursday 11 March 2010
"Boca a Boca" - "Mouth to Mouth"
Released: 1995
Director: Manuel Gómez Pereira
Cast: Javier Bardem; Aitana Sánchez Gijón; Josep Maria Flotats
Years before he made it big in Hollywood in films such as No Country for Old Men and Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Javier Bardem was making great films in Spain. He was arrogant in Jamon Jamon, he brooded in Huevos de Oro and yet Boca a Boca might be his most unusual performance. Unusual mainly because it's a light madcap comedy and Bardem hasn't done (m)any of those since. Yes, I know Vicky Cristina Barcelona was meant to be funny but what can I say, I didn't laugh much. I enjoyed it but I didn't laugh much.
In Boca a Boca, Bardem plays Victor Ventura, a drama school reject from Cartagena in Murcia who's come to the big city (Madrid, I presumed) to make it as an actor. The Murcian accent is apparently seen as a bit comical in some parts of Spain so that automatically gives the character a touch of the naive provincial. Victor makes a living as a pizza delivery guy while auditioning badly, hoping for his big break. Unfortunately the break comes with the promise of an audition for an American movie in three weeks' time just as Victor loses his job and has to pack up and go home. Desperate for one last (big) chance, Victor takes a job as a phone sex worker. Most of his clients are men, but when a woman does call he ends up falling for her and agreeing to take part in a honey trap so she can divorce her closeted gay husband (one of Victor's other clients). The seduction, of course, has to take place on the same evening that Victor is to meet the American director and from then on the film is whirl of changing identities, hitmen, plots within plots and auditions.
The film is worth seeing because the story is good, the twists are unexpected, it's well-acted, it's funny and so on. However, given his later career, there's also a lot of pleasure to be got from just seeing Javier Bardem as you've never seen him before. For a start, there's the haircut, a sort of terrible pageboy type 'do last seen on Joey in early Friends. Then there's the spectacle of his acting class prancing while singing “Make 'Em Laugh” at an audition. And finally, if only because Hollywood would never do it, there's Bardem in comically convincing gay phone sex.
About two-thirds of the way through it did start to remind me of early Almodóvar, although that comparison isn't intended to be invidious. In fact, if you've watched all of Pedro's early works and wish that he'd done more like that, watch Boca a Boca – it's a bit of a treat.
(It's only available on Region 1 DVD, but it is cheap and more and more, I'm convinced that if you want to see anything other than the mainstream Spanish releases in the UK then you need that multi-region DVD player.)
Director: Manuel Gómez Pereira
Cast: Javier Bardem; Aitana Sánchez Gijón; Josep Maria Flotats
Years before he made it big in Hollywood in films such as No Country for Old Men and Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Javier Bardem was making great films in Spain. He was arrogant in Jamon Jamon, he brooded in Huevos de Oro and yet Boca a Boca might be his most unusual performance. Unusual mainly because it's a light madcap comedy and Bardem hasn't done (m)any of those since. Yes, I know Vicky Cristina Barcelona was meant to be funny but what can I say, I didn't laugh much. I enjoyed it but I didn't laugh much.
In Boca a Boca, Bardem plays Victor Ventura, a drama school reject from Cartagena in Murcia who's come to the big city (Madrid, I presumed) to make it as an actor. The Murcian accent is apparently seen as a bit comical in some parts of Spain so that automatically gives the character a touch of the naive provincial. Victor makes a living as a pizza delivery guy while auditioning badly, hoping for his big break. Unfortunately the break comes with the promise of an audition for an American movie in three weeks' time just as Victor loses his job and has to pack up and go home. Desperate for one last (big) chance, Victor takes a job as a phone sex worker. Most of his clients are men, but when a woman does call he ends up falling for her and agreeing to take part in a honey trap so she can divorce her closeted gay husband (one of Victor's other clients). The seduction, of course, has to take place on the same evening that Victor is to meet the American director and from then on the film is whirl of changing identities, hitmen, plots within plots and auditions.
The film is worth seeing because the story is good, the twists are unexpected, it's well-acted, it's funny and so on. However, given his later career, there's also a lot of pleasure to be got from just seeing Javier Bardem as you've never seen him before. For a start, there's the haircut, a sort of terrible pageboy type 'do last seen on Joey in early Friends. Then there's the spectacle of his acting class prancing while singing “Make 'Em Laugh” at an audition. And finally, if only because Hollywood would never do it, there's Bardem in comically convincing gay phone sex.
About two-thirds of the way through it did start to remind me of early Almodóvar, although that comparison isn't intended to be invidious. In fact, if you've watched all of Pedro's early works and wish that he'd done more like that, watch Boca a Boca – it's a bit of a treat.
(It's only available on Region 1 DVD, but it is cheap and more and more, I'm convinced that if you want to see anything other than the mainstream Spanish releases in the UK then you need that multi-region DVD player.)
Tuesday 9 March 2010
"Spanish Movie" - spoof
I've only just heard about this, but Fox have produced/backed another in their parody series (Scary Movie, Date Movie, Superhero Movie) but the latest is poking fun at contemporary Spanish cinema. And it's completely Spanish-made.
Now I don't usually bother with this sort of stuff, partly because after Airplane and Naked Gun the laughs are usually outweighed by the frathouse goonishness; and partly because I'm rarely familiar enough with the movies being spoofed to get half the jokes. But this time it's Spanish!
Apparently the films they're taking off are:
Here's the trailer. (No subtitles but I just know you'll manage.)
I must admit that I like the bit with the Tomás character from El Orfanato.
Released in Spain last December, apparently it did well at the box office and has been sold to various countries but not yet, unfortunately, to the UK. Maybe we'll have to wait for the DVD release.
Now I don't usually bother with this sort of stuff, partly because after Airplane and Naked Gun the laughs are usually outweighed by the frathouse goonishness; and partly because I'm rarely familiar enough with the movies being spoofed to get half the jokes. But this time it's Spanish!
Apparently the films they're taking off are:
- Volver
- El Orfanato (The Orphanage)
- El Laberinto del Fauno (Pan's Labyrinth)
- Mar Adentro (The Sea Inside)
- Los Otros (The Others)
- [REC]
- Abre los Ojos (Open Your Eyes; remade as Vanilla Sky)
Here's the trailer. (No subtitles but I just know you'll manage.)
I must admit that I like the bit with the Tomás character from El Orfanato.
Released in Spain last December, apparently it did well at the box office and has been sold to various countries but not yet, unfortunately, to the UK. Maybe we'll have to wait for the DVD release.
Sunday 7 March 2010
"Te Doy Mis Ojos" - "Take My Eyes"
Released: 2003
Director: Icíar Bollain
Cast: Laia Marull, Luis Tosar, Candela Peña, Rosa María Sardá,
If your view of Spanish cinema goes no further than Almodóvar's early kitsch surrealism or del Toro's dark fairy tales then Te Doy Mis Ojos could be just the film to broaden your horizons. Be warned though, you won't laugh much.
We found this in the bargain bin in Carrefour in Cartagena (I say “we”, it was actually my wife, Amanda.) The attraction was that the director and actors all appeared to be unfamiliar at the time. Since then, we have seen them all in other films; in fact the male lead, Luis Tosar, was a police officer in Sin Noticias de Dios about which I posted last week (blink and you'll miss him – I did.) The director, Icíar Bollain, is currently working on the next Gael García Bernal movie, Tambien la Lluvia in Bolivia. In 2004, Te Doy Mis Ojos took seven Goyas, including best movie, director, actor and actress.
So, pedigree established, what's it all about?. It begins with Pilar, played by Laia Marull, rushing from room to room in an apartment, gathering up her sleepy young son and generally looking frightened and urgent. She goes to her sister's home and it soon becomes apparent that she is fleeing her abusive husband, Antonio who attempts to 'woo' her back with a predictable mix of entreaties, promises, instructions and anger. We have the will-she-won't-she return to him all played out against the backdrop of her attempts to build a life of her own and also her sister's impending marriage to a charming Scot who is attentive, does the washing up, is good with kids, etc. (the film addresses Spanish stereotypes, not Scottish ones.) In other words, all the women in the film think he's marvellous; the men don't. The tension begins in that first scene and doesn't let up. There is a sense of danger throughout; whenever Antonio is on screen we are just waiting for him to erupt into violence. And we are kept waiting.
What makes the film stand out is its completely unflinching look at domestic violence that examines both sides of the equation. By the end, we understand both Pilar and Antonio; what has led them to where they are and the choices that they ultimately make. With Pilar it's the influence of family history; her sister is escaping but Pilar feels doomed to repeat her mother's martyrdom unless she can find a way out. Also how an intense physical attraction can overcome all common sense. Antonio's family also appear to have shaped him (don't they always?) particularly his total lack of self-esteem. He also suffers from a therapist whose 'light touch' approach is unlikely to help Antonio triumph in his battle with his anger.
The acting, especially from Laia Marull, is raw and convincing; there's no Hollywood-style looking sexy while she's acting scared here; she genuinely looks out-of-control terrified when Antonio is on the edge. She knows that she could die at his hands.
Spain is an interesting backdrop for this story with it's stereotype of machismo misogyny and I can't help but think that the director is making some sort of commentary here. The men's therapy group paints a very bleak picture of a certain type of Spanish man and Pilar's plight seems, at times, quite hopeless. Interesting that her sister, who is much more free/liberated/happy in her relationship, has had to marry a foreigner.
At the end, there are no triumphs, no real happy-ending winners. But there is resolution of a sort that is entirely appropriate to a film that aims for realism.
Director: Icíar Bollain
Cast: Laia Marull, Luis Tosar, Candela Peña, Rosa María Sardá,
If your view of Spanish cinema goes no further than Almodóvar's early kitsch surrealism or del Toro's dark fairy tales then Te Doy Mis Ojos could be just the film to broaden your horizons. Be warned though, you won't laugh much.
We found this in the bargain bin in Carrefour in Cartagena (I say “we”, it was actually my wife, Amanda.) The attraction was that the director and actors all appeared to be unfamiliar at the time. Since then, we have seen them all in other films; in fact the male lead, Luis Tosar, was a police officer in Sin Noticias de Dios about which I posted last week (blink and you'll miss him – I did.) The director, Icíar Bollain, is currently working on the next Gael García Bernal movie, Tambien la Lluvia in Bolivia. In 2004, Te Doy Mis Ojos took seven Goyas, including best movie, director, actor and actress.
So, pedigree established, what's it all about?. It begins with Pilar, played by Laia Marull, rushing from room to room in an apartment, gathering up her sleepy young son and generally looking frightened and urgent. She goes to her sister's home and it soon becomes apparent that she is fleeing her abusive husband, Antonio who attempts to 'woo' her back with a predictable mix of entreaties, promises, instructions and anger. We have the will-she-won't-she return to him all played out against the backdrop of her attempts to build a life of her own and also her sister's impending marriage to a charming Scot who is attentive, does the washing up, is good with kids, etc. (the film addresses Spanish stereotypes, not Scottish ones.) In other words, all the women in the film think he's marvellous; the men don't. The tension begins in that first scene and doesn't let up. There is a sense of danger throughout; whenever Antonio is on screen we are just waiting for him to erupt into violence. And we are kept waiting.
What makes the film stand out is its completely unflinching look at domestic violence that examines both sides of the equation. By the end, we understand both Pilar and Antonio; what has led them to where they are and the choices that they ultimately make. With Pilar it's the influence of family history; her sister is escaping but Pilar feels doomed to repeat her mother's martyrdom unless she can find a way out. Also how an intense physical attraction can overcome all common sense. Antonio's family also appear to have shaped him (don't they always?) particularly his total lack of self-esteem. He also suffers from a therapist whose 'light touch' approach is unlikely to help Antonio triumph in his battle with his anger.
The acting, especially from Laia Marull, is raw and convincing; there's no Hollywood-style looking sexy while she's acting scared here; she genuinely looks out-of-control terrified when Antonio is on the edge. She knows that she could die at his hands.
Spain is an interesting backdrop for this story with it's stereotype of machismo misogyny and I can't help but think that the director is making some sort of commentary here. The men's therapy group paints a very bleak picture of a certain type of Spanish man and Pilar's plight seems, at times, quite hopeless. Interesting that her sister, who is much more free/liberated/happy in her relationship, has had to marry a foreigner.
At the end, there are no triumphs, no real happy-ending winners. But there is resolution of a sort that is entirely appropriate to a film that aims for realism.
Friday 26 February 2010
"Carne Trémula" - "Live Flesh"
Spanish cinema certainly doesn't begin or end with Pedro Almodóvar but there's no denying his work is outstanding nor that he's probably the most familiar name to non-Spanish speakers. For me (and I'm sure I'm probably not the first to see this) something about his films changes in the mid-90s, between The Flower of My Secret (1995) and Live Flesh (1997). Maybe it was just bigger budgets, or he started using a different type of film, but the later works have a different, warmer(?) look and seem to have less chaotic storylines. This isn't a value judgement - I enjoy both periods equally - I'm just seeing a distinct stylistic difference; even if I can't put my finger on it exactly.
Released: 1997
Director: Pedro Almodóvar
Cast: Javier Bardem, Francesca Neri, Liberto Rabal, Ángela Molina, José Sancho, Pilar Bardem, Penélope Cruz
Carne Trémula is a film about relationships, friendship, betrayal, class strata, revenge and redemption. Above all (or perhaps that should be below all) it is about Spain. It starts, like many of Almodóvar's films, with strong female characters: in trouble, helping each other, browbeating men (or the intractable elements in society that their characters represent) and biting through umbilical cords. It also starts, rather more unusually, in Franco's Spain. Empty streets, downtrodden populace and a distinct lack of hedonism. Anyway, back to the umbilical cord. Our protagonist, Victor, is born on a bus that is virtually hijacked by an impromptu midwife on it's way back to the depot and rerouted to the hospital.
Cut forward 20 years and Victor is an earnest and inexperienced young man obsessed with Elena, the collaborator in his first and so far only sexual experience. He thinks they have a date, she's forgotten him already (Shades of Atame or Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down here). Cue a tense scene at her apartment in which she points a gun to make him leave. The gun goes off, police are called. The police in question are Sancho (heavy-drinking, wife-beating old-fashioned misogynist) and David (honest, reasonable, etc.) It all degenerates into a hostage situation in which Victor now has the gun and due to Sancho charging in a stray bullet paralyses David. Another 4 years forward and we find Sancho unchanged, David now a paraplegic basketball star and married to Elena, and Victor – more mature but still naïve – newly-released from prison. Now the story really begins: funerals, sex lessons, spliffs, an orphanage and mexican stand-offs. Great stuff. If you like that sort of thing. Which I do.
Throughout the film we are presented with the dynamics of the relationships between David and Elena and Sancho and his wife, Clara. And how the interruption of both those relationships by Victor results in everything changing forever. That said, however much Victor might the agent of change for both marriages, we are left in no doubt that the seeds of change were planted much earlier by the respective husbands. Sancho's physical bullying gives Clara an obvious reason for unhappiness, but Elena's discontent is much more subtle. Just look at the moment she picks to tell David that she's met Victor (the man, don't forget who put him in a wheelchair). Either David is really bad at what he's doing or she really wants to get back at him for something.
Ultimately, we're tipped off to the underlying symbolism (which doesn't stop it also just being an excellent drama) by the final lines of the film which talk about Spaniards no longer living in fear. This is a film about the transition in life and attitudes made by the Spanish population in the wake of the political transition from dictatorship to democracy. The men are 'Old Spain', the women are 'New Spain' and Victor is the means by which the new throws off the control of the old. Or at least that's what I saw when I watched it for the second time. I wonder if anyone else did?
Released: 1997
Director: Pedro Almodóvar
Cast: Javier Bardem, Francesca Neri, Liberto Rabal, Ángela Molina, José Sancho, Pilar Bardem, Penélope Cruz
Carne Trémula is a film about relationships, friendship, betrayal, class strata, revenge and redemption. Above all (or perhaps that should be below all) it is about Spain. It starts, like many of Almodóvar's films, with strong female characters: in trouble, helping each other, browbeating men (or the intractable elements in society that their characters represent) and biting through umbilical cords. It also starts, rather more unusually, in Franco's Spain. Empty streets, downtrodden populace and a distinct lack of hedonism. Anyway, back to the umbilical cord. Our protagonist, Victor, is born on a bus that is virtually hijacked by an impromptu midwife on it's way back to the depot and rerouted to the hospital.
Cut forward 20 years and Victor is an earnest and inexperienced young man obsessed with Elena, the collaborator in his first and so far only sexual experience. He thinks they have a date, she's forgotten him already (Shades of Atame or Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down here). Cue a tense scene at her apartment in which she points a gun to make him leave. The gun goes off, police are called. The police in question are Sancho (heavy-drinking, wife-beating old-fashioned misogynist) and David (honest, reasonable, etc.) It all degenerates into a hostage situation in which Victor now has the gun and due to Sancho charging in a stray bullet paralyses David. Another 4 years forward and we find Sancho unchanged, David now a paraplegic basketball star and married to Elena, and Victor – more mature but still naïve – newly-released from prison. Now the story really begins: funerals, sex lessons, spliffs, an orphanage and mexican stand-offs. Great stuff. If you like that sort of thing. Which I do.
Throughout the film we are presented with the dynamics of the relationships between David and Elena and Sancho and his wife, Clara. And how the interruption of both those relationships by Victor results in everything changing forever. That said, however much Victor might the agent of change for both marriages, we are left in no doubt that the seeds of change were planted much earlier by the respective husbands. Sancho's physical bullying gives Clara an obvious reason for unhappiness, but Elena's discontent is much more subtle. Just look at the moment she picks to tell David that she's met Victor (the man, don't forget who put him in a wheelchair). Either David is really bad at what he's doing or she really wants to get back at him for something.
Ultimately, we're tipped off to the underlying symbolism (which doesn't stop it also just being an excellent drama) by the final lines of the film which talk about Spaniards no longer living in fear. This is a film about the transition in life and attitudes made by the Spanish population in the wake of the political transition from dictatorship to democracy. The men are 'Old Spain', the women are 'New Spain' and Victor is the means by which the new throws off the control of the old. Or at least that's what I saw when I watched it for the second time. I wonder if anyone else did?
"Sin Noticias de Dios" - "Don't Tempt Me"
Released: 2001Director: Agustin Diaz Yanes
Cast: Penélope Cruz, Victoria Abril, Gael García Bernal, Fanny Ardant, Demián Bichir
Sin Noticias de Dios is a slightly odd film. And the more you think back on it, the odder it seems. It is also a quirky comedy with a smart script that draws on numerous genres.
The opening sequence reminded me of Tarantino, esp. Pulp Fiction, but instead of John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson, we get Penélope Cruz and Victoria Abril swapping sharp, gangsterish dialogue about history and the bible before donning Queen Elizabeth II masks and pulling out the artillery to rob a supermarket.
Flashing back from this initial scene, we enter the main premise of the film. Namely that Heaven (which is black'n'white and French) is losing the eternal battle with Hell (in full colour and currently presided over by the Mexican Bernal who is, however, in danger of being superseded by rather bland English bureaucrats.) Of deciding importance to the struggle is a particular(ly obnoxious) failed Spanish boxer, Manny. Both sides send their best agents to secure Manny's immortal soul. Heaven sends Abril, Hell sends Cruz and their competition is complicated by some Earthly gangsters to whom Manny owes money.
The casting is inspired. Cruz seems to relish playing a mannish role; her character is male but imprisoned in a woman's body as his Hellish punishment (as a nice touch at the very end, we find out what she really looks like; Hollywood gossip merchants will spot the irony.) Abril is altogether more elegant as the 1940s cabaret singer in a Parisian nightclub afterlife whose audience has dwindled as Hell gained the upper hand. Fanny Ardant is suitably chic and sophisticated as Heaven's Head of Operations. We never quite fathom her past relationship with her opposite number in Hell, Gael García Bernal, who steals every scene in which he appears. He's nervous, twitchy, gains our sympathy and he's prepared to deal with the other side in order to keep his underlings at bay.
So, a supernatural/biblical comedy with nods to Cold War spy story, corporate satire, gangster movie and just a sprinkling of courtroom drama. If you like quirky plotting, amusing dialogue and interesting ideas and visuals (and your player can take Region 1 DVDs) then it's worth a watch.
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