Invisible Gods

Hadewijch (2009) - Dumont



Hadewijch is a film with immense power and beauty. The innocence and religious devotion are embodied by non-professional actor Julie Sokolowski. After getting kicked out of the convent because of her zealotry (refusing to eat and not covering herself against the cold) by concerned mother superiors, Céline (Sokolowski) is befriended by an Arab youth, who at first is attracted by her beatific demeanor, then impressed by her devotion. He in turn introduces her to his older brother who teaches Q'oran. Dumont serenely shows how an innocent can easily get bought into the martyrdom without judgment. It is not easy to buy into Céline's existence- a daughter of an extremely wealthy family, studying theology at her age, her unquestioning faith, etc. But Dumont's approach is so austere and sincere, these little set ups don't really matter too much. Elliptical climax threw me off a little but redemptive ending, with the constant presence of David Dewaele (the soulful lead from Hors Satan) really moved me as a whole. Hadewijch is definitely a great reward of a movie for adventurous filmgoers. I am really getting into Dumont.

Examining the Nature of Gaze

After making its rounds at various festival circuits, and with his new narrative feature Vic and Flo Saw a Bear playing at this year's Berlinale, the adventurous Québécois film critic turned director Denis Côté's intriguing little documentary Bestiaire gets one week theatrical run at Cinefamily in Los Angeles, 2/19 - 2/27.

The documentary starts in an art class where a group of students sketching an inanimate object. They stare at the object intently. The whole sequence is tense and serious. It turns out that the object is a stuffed deer (or is it a baby antelope?). We are looking at the spectators looking at their subjects. Then we move on to grey concrete blocks that are animal holding cells in a zoo. It's Parc Safari in Quebec in wintertime. The film features a series of animals in exquisitely composed tableaux. Who knew that static close ups of animals bobbing their heads above and below the frame can be this hypnotic?

Lions bang on the cage, trying to get out of their small cells. Tigers aimlessly trots back and forth. Just like passive young caretakers of the Parc Safari, we partake in observing these animals in their natural state in captivity. But the film is not really about captive animals. Côté is not an animal rights advocate. Rather, he is interested in the relationship between spectators and their subjects.

Bestiaire, done in a deceptively simple way, has no narrative pull whatsoever. But along with Lucien Castaing-Taylor & Ilisa Barbash's Sweetgrass (2009), it's the best kind of observational documentary as it leaves a lot of room for audience to reflect. It gets interesting especially the beasts look back at you and you feel like you are locked in a staring contest with them. Who's zoomin' who now? 

The film will be preceded by two intriguing shorts Primate Cinema: Apes as Family by Rachel Mayeri and Moving Stories by Nicolas Provost, both have to do with our way of seeing things: while Apes gets the better of us emotionally instead of intellectually, Moving Stories shows us how easily we fall for narratives with such little devices.

Please visit Cinefamily for showtimes and tickets.


Dustin Chang is a freelance writer. His musings and opinions of the world can be seen at www.dustinchang.com

Children of the Damned

The White Ribbon (2009) - Haneke




Masterful. I know I'm quite late in the game with this one. Haneke's examination of how the entire generation of people can be capable of atrocity or turn the blind eye to it is as complex as the history it is contextualizing. Think of it as Children of the Damned without being ironical or allegorical. It's deeper than that. There are definitely the economical disparity and religious hypocrisy at play in The White Ribbon. But what's most striking in the film is the attitude of grown ups not accepting the possibility of 'innocence' not existing. It is chilling because Haneke's view can be applied to any time period. But he suggests in the scene where the youngest son of the pastor presents the distraught man of God with his prized sparrow, that kids are not inherently evil. But do we start persecuting children when they reach 11? Where do we draw the line? Haneke doesn't give us easy answers and there are a lot to mull over. Perhaps the subtlest of all his films, White Ribbon is a lean, unblinking filmmaking at its best.

Sweet Observance

Sweetgrass (2009) - no director credit

As far as observational documentaries go, Sweetgrass hits the right note for me in every way- it works as an anthropological study of sheepherders (cowboys) in their most natural state, works as a spectacular nature documentary with unbelievably beautiful surroundings (Montana and part of Wyoming in various seasons) and works as a hypnotic/visceral art film with colors, movement and its immediacy. I've seen this kind of work before- in Louis Malle and Robert Gardener India documentaries, Peter Bo Rappmund's Psychohydrography, James Benning's nature pieces etc. Conceived and executed by Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Illisa Barbash, the film is a marvelous achievement. The team seems to have found the perfect balance before it tipping over to become a gallery installation or worse, Baraka or Samsara. Castaing-Taylor possesses a kin, cinematic visual sense that is rare for this kind of filmmaking. Sweetgrass is an immensely watchable and engaging piece of work. I wished it being a little shorter though. 1 hour and 40 minute running time is quite an endurance test.

Abbas Kiarostami Interview

In my short career as a film journalist/blogger, I have been lucky enough to interview some of my idols over the years -- Claire Denis, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Michael Haneke and John Sayles among them. But no one (not even Haneke!) made me as nervous as I was when I sat down for a round table interview with the master Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami at last year's New York Film Festival. What could you possibly ask an artist who is infinitely wiser than you (not that others aren't), whose films leave you with awe and admiration, who seems to have figured out what life is about?

Having spent all day answering questions, Kiarostami looked tired behind those dark glasses (he has light sensitivity issues). And, unfortunately, our group occupied the last slot of the press day, so the interview felt very short and unsatisfying. I didn't get to ask any of the questions about restrictions and censorship put on his filmmaking. Looking back, without any nervousness I felt that day, listening to his calm voice again as I write this, I am now able to appreciate his warmth and generosity and his sense of humor a lot more than the first time.


I ask you this because you directed FIVE: DEDICATED TO OZU and seem to have great admiration for Japanese culture. What kind of conversation did you have within yourself before making LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE?

I am certain that my fascination with Japan has been with me forever, even before I got to go to Japan. Even my very first attempt at any kind of artistic expression, which were poems that I wrote when I was 20 years old, resemble haiku. I had no idea at the time, but I wrote poems that are very like haikus. And in my photography work, there are some kind of common forms found in traditional Japanese paintings. There is some sort of resonance in my practice and Japanese art. So there has always been real interests before my first visit there which was confirmed whenever I went back thereafter. I've been visiting Japan periodically over 20 years now.

Filmmaking for me is quite contradictory. It happened to all my films: whenever I feel attracted to a project there is this necessary heaviness -- the pre-production period is always longer than it should be. So I get bored and restless until things get ready. Deep down, I always wish something would happen to cancel it all. The more I am excited about a project, [the more] I want it be stopped by some kind of unforeseen event. The only exception was the production of Close-Up. Because it was the only film that didn't take long to prepare it. I came up with the idea the day before I started to shoot it, so I didn't have time to get bored. This double state of mind also happened in this Japanese project. I was very much looking forward to it except that I found its pre-production idling as it's always been as with others.

Did the tsunami affect the production of the film at all?

That tsunami was the exact unforeseen event I was telling you about! It was a sign for me because I couldn't find actors, even though the pre-production had started. I thought the project was not meant to be and I thought I would give it up.

This old close friend of mine, a Japanese woman who has been an assistant to a director for a long time (Nogami Teruyo, a long time assistant to Kurosawa Akira). She's always asked me why, what was it that I love so much about Japan and the Japanese people. She told me that just after the tsunami, she was a part of these people in Shibuya sitting on the floor and just seeing what was going on without any reaction or fear or despair. "I wish you would've been with us to see how Japanese people react to a catastrophe,"  she said. And love and admiration she had for her co-citizens, she was seeing them through my eyes.

There is a certain universality in your films that anyone can relate to whether they take place in Tehran, Tokyo or Florence. How did you cultivate that universality?

I think it's a lifetime practice, or habit or way of seeing things. I remember for a long time as a young man I wouldn't take what I see on TV for granted. I would never accept generalizing 'that's how Americans are,' or 'that's how Japanese are.' I was always much more interested in individuals rather than a culture or a country in general sense. This collective judgment or agreement on certain culture has always annoyed me. I deeply believe, excluding ideological positions, that we are the same. In details we can have our differences but in the main aspects of our lives -- our sufferings, joy and pain -- no matter if we are Japanese, American or Iranian, we are the same human beings. So if you have this as the principle of life and relationship, then it shows in your work.

The title of this film LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE, sung by Ella Fitzgerald, is an American jazz standard. Considering the poetic nature of many of your films' titles -- TASTE OF CHERRY, WIND WILL CARRY US -- why did you choose this particular one? And are you a fan of jazz music?

I would say it's more of a generational thing. Jazz was a worldwide phenomenon when I was growing up. It would play on the radio and the LP came along and jazz came with it. So when it came to music for the film, I asked Mr. Okuno (Okuno Tadash, who plays professor in the film), what his character would listen to; even though he is ten years older than me, he said jazz because that's what he grew up listening to.

I think in Iran, the era of modernity was accompanied by this music. So the music came and the lyrics were translated and there are many singers who'd imitate jazz music. So I think of jazz as not the music that was born somewhere between America and Africa but as something that is shared universally in a certain generation. So for me the title is not a cultural reference, but came from a nostalgia for a certain era.

I was struck by the presence of many cell phones/telephones in LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE. We are living in a society where we depend on those almost exclusively as a means of communication. How do you feel about that?

There is not much I can do. Things come into our lives and become part of our everyday living. People's lives in my stories also rely on those devices and there is no escaping it.

I never had a mobile phone myself and never imagined having one until the day I was given one. That day I had left home and in the middle of the traffic, I realized that I forgot the mobile phone at home, so I had to drive back to get it. Then suddenly I realized that it's less helpful and more of a constraint, a restriction. Now it's part of everyone's lives: they visit me and they leave their phones at my house and there is a knock on the door....(everyone laughs)

The professor even says in the film that he doesn't have a mobile phone. He only has his telephone with an answering machine and complains that he has to check stupid messages other people leave for him. That's my sentiment too.

There is obviously a progression in your filmmaking over the years. So what's different now than when you first started making films?

Well, if there were any changes in my method, it should be reflected in my films. I think best way anyone put it comes from my friend Nogami Teruyo who told me a story. She hesitantly told me the reaction of Kurosawa when he saw my first (feature) film, The Traveler. She said, "I don't know if I should tell you this because I don't know if you will take it as a compliment or an insult." I said, " No, tell me. Tell me." It happened that he (Kurosawa) had seen my other films but it was much later that he saw The Traveler. And apparently he said, "Oh that Kiarostami fellow, he hasn't progressed a bit!" (everyone laughs)

I don't think my concept has changed since the beginning. All I know is that I don't rely on my previous efforts. Every film I do, I start it from scratch. If there is a change or progression, it's there on the screen. I can't tell you much more than that.


His new film Like Someone in Love opens on February 15 in New York and Los Angeles with a national roll out to follow.

The Awful Truth in Pretty Pictures

Lore (2012) - Shortland

After her well-received debut feature Summersault (2004), a small indie film about a young woman's sexual awakening that launched the careers of Abbie Cornish and Sam Worthington, directing a WWII drama in Germany with all German cast is a curious choice for Aussie director Cate Shortland. But It's Shortland's knack for portraying a budding female's physical and mental struggle that connects the two films. Newcomer Saskia Rosendahl plays the red-lipped perfect Nazi youth whose world is shaken after finding out her parents' roles in the death of millions.

It's 1945. Hitler's dead. Hannalore (Rosendahl) and her four young siblings are left to fend for themselves after their Nazi parents are imprisoned. Having been informed that there is a relative living in Hamburg, the children set out on foot from their opulent mansion deep in the Barbarian mountains to an unknown, scary world. Things get hairy quickly as they run out of food (and milk for the baby) and shelter.

They team up with a suspicious young man, Thomas (Kai Malina), who crosses their path. Lore's younger siblings take a shine on him but she can't let her guard down. Germany is divided into zones with road blocks everywhere. Thomas, who may or may not be a death camp survivor, uses his street smarts to help Lore and her siblings to get to the British zone (because Soviets hate Germans, they were told). There is an obvious sexual tension between Lore and Thomas.

Rosendahl's typical Aryan beauty is accentuated by blissful cinematography, used effectively here as she gets battered, dirtied up and sun-blistered. There is a certain Grimm's fairytale quality to Lore's journey, with many grown up monsters in the woods waiting to pounce on a frightened little girl. The film makes a point of the war robbing one's childhood, that there are victims on both sides, several times. But thanks to beautifully balanced direction and great performances, the cliché-prone material never comes across as a didactic bore.

Lore opens February 8 in New York and Los Angeles and gets wide releases in March. Check the Music Box Films website for more information.

Moving Picture: Close-Up of Abbas Kiarostami at FSLC

Coinciding with the North American release of his new film, LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE, Film Society of Lincoln Center presents Close-Up of Abbas Kiarostami: a 9 day retrospective featuring the Iranian master filmmaker's documentaries, shorts and selective narratives. This retro is a rare opportunity to witness the evolution of one of the most prominent filmmakers working today.

Kiarostami's TASTE OF CHERRY winning Palme d'Or at Cannes in 1997 put Iranian cinema and Iranian New Wave on the map, shedding a light on many other deserving Persian filmmakers (Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Jafar Panahi, Amir Naderi among others) . Disarmingly simple yet highly sophisticated, blurring the line between documentary and fiction and defying easy categorization, AK's films are regarded as the prime examples of post-modern cinema. But the fact is, AK has been making films since the 70s: he helped establishing the filmmaking department at Institute for Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults (Kanun) in Tehran and made series of documentaries and shorts concerning school children. All of his Kanun films will be shown at the retro.

My first AK experience was WIND WILL CARRY US. Its simplicity and humanism with great eye for landscapes impressed me greatly and made me a devotee ever since. What's most striking about his artistry is his effortless, seamless quest for truthful representation of life on film. Whether they are shot on 35mm or with a consumer grade handi-cam, the inquisitive interactions of non-actors with their natural dialogue often imply that there is no real distinction between cinema and reality.


AK's depiction of children, from his Kanun days (THE BREAD AND THE ALLEY, BREAKTIME, HOMEWORK) to later films (KOKER TRILOGY, ABC AFRICA, TEN) is that of non-disciplinarian. In his feature documentary, HOMEWORK, it is obvious that the educational system in Iran is too strict and puts a lot of pressure on children, both in school and at home with a lot of homework. It's revealing that they all know what punishment means but don't know the meaning of the word praise. Then there are parents who say the system is too harsh on the children, that it kills their creativity and would end up producing a generation of mindless drones. Kiarostami seems to be agreeing with this sentiment.

Unlike many of other Iranian filmmakers who actively make political statements with their work (his former assistant Jafar Panahi being the most vocal one), AK's films aren't overtly political. But the given complexity of his films, Iranian government bans any exhibition of AK films in Iran, fearing that there might be hidden subliminal messages. But unlike the Iranian New Wave filmmakers of his generation who fled the country after the 1979 revolution, AK stayed and kept making films exclusively in Iran until CERTIFIED COPY in 2010. He accepts that restrictions and censorship are a part of life in a rigid society but always finds ways to express himself in changing environs.


Cold and bitter, THE REPORT is nothing like his later films that are optimistic and life affirming. Firouzkoui is perhaps the least likable character in all of AK's protagonists- he cheats, lies and abuses his position as a tax investigator. After being accused of corruption and short on rent money, he resorts to beating his wife and neglecting his young daughter. Considering THE REPORT was made before the Iranian Revolution in which Shah was overthrown and The Islamic Republic established, the film is perhaps a snapshot of the state of things in the era, a report on petite-bourgeoisie, steeped in selfishness and materialism. It's also interesting to see the secular Tehran- women wearing revealing western clothes, men drinking and gambling, gridlocks in the city streets, etc. AK observes all this from a distance. THE REPORT is a hard film to like but I can see its merits.


Any scenes with interior of moving cars became synonymous with an AK film. From bustling bottleneck traffic of Tehran in THE REPORT to TASTE OF CHERRY, WIND WILL CARRY US and TEN, the master reminds us that life with its ebbs and flows, is never stopping/always changing. If Tarkovsky tried to make us feel the 'passage of time' with his creeping tracking shots, Kiarostami achieves this in astounding simplicity- life is a moving car.

A middle aged man and his young son are on the road to Koker, a northern rural village leveled by the devastating earthquake in 1990. They spend most of the film's running time in their car. This is the premise of LIFE AND NOTHING MORE... It is only revealed later on that the man is a film director (a Kiarostami stand-in) who is looking for a child actor who starred in his previous film, WHERE IS YOUR FRIEND'S HOME? (AK's 1987 film also taking place in that region). As they encounter monstrous traffic jam and many victims of 'the god's will', the line between reality and fiction evaporates. Shot shortly after the real earthquake that took the lives of 50,000, and based on his own experience driving around (with his own son), LIFE AND NOTHING MORE... shows resilience of the people amid a horrible disaster. As they make ends meet, digging out their household items from debris, they still look forward to a better future. They fidget a TV antenna to watch a World Cup match in ruins. THROUGH THE OLIVE TREE (a fictional 'making-of' LIFE AND NOTHING MORE...), completes the trilogy that takes place in Koker. Elegantly simple and captivating throughout with an open ending, LIFE AND NOTHING MORE... is a beautiful film.


In CLOSE-UP, AK retraces an imposter case starring real life participants. The result is a moving examination on 'life imitating art imitating life', rather than sensationalistic satire about fame and deception.

AK pays homage to Ozu Yasujiro in FIVE. The film consists of 5 static long takes of a coastal area in Iran without any characters or dialogue. The commonality of their films lies in humanism and respect for their audience rather than the camera placement. The final part where he traces the reflection of the moon on the surface of a pond with the chorus of its nighttime surroundings to the breaking dawn is a thrilling cinematic magic.

When AK first busted out onto the world cinema stage, critics didn't know what to make of his films: Roger Ebert gave TASTE OF CHERRY one star, calling it 'excruciatingly boring', while Jonathan Rosenbaum desperately tried to find some sort of reference in Western cinema tradition in his films. But as he says in 10 ON TEN that in simply showing austere reality with an open ending, AK believes, can entice audience to reflect on their own lives. I can't think of a higher compliment to the audience than what AK bestows upon us with his films.

The retro includes much praised TASTE OF CHERRY, WIND WILL CARRY US, CERTIFIED COPY along with the theatrical release of LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE.

For tickets and complete listings please visit FSLC website.

Devil or Saint

Hors Satan (2011) - Dumont

Carl Dreyer's The Day of Wrath might be the spiritual ancestor to both Silent Light and Hors Satan. In fact, there are a lot of similarities in this and Reygardas' film - sumptuous cinematography, stunning rural landscapes and resurrection. But Dumont's film strips down its religious undertones and goes for something more interesting and ambiguous. Not that there is no beauty in showing religious faith, but it's helluva more interesting if the protagonist might as well be a devil!

Hors Satan tells a story of a sad faced interloper (David Dewaele) who builds a strong bond with a gothy teenage girl (Alexandra Lemâtre) in rural Northern France. It seems that the stranger does everything the girl asks him to. Only thing he doesn't grant her is her sexual advances (we find out why later on in one violent/funny encounter). He seems to be capable of violent acts and also possessing healing powers. The nature once again plays a big part in Dumont's film- lonely, windswept coastal Northern French town is as much a character as the sad faced people who inhabit it. There is something primal/animistic about Hors Satan: Dewaele's satan/saint often prays facing the expansive nature in front of him, kneeling down with one hand cupping the other. There are also some obvious Tarkovsky influences, especially with fire and water and a German shepherd.

Dewaele and Lemâtre are endearing in their quiet ways. I find the ending very touching, much more so than Breaking the Waves or Silent Light. I can't wait to see Dumont's new film, Camille Claudel, 1915.

God is an Alien?

God Told Me to (1975) - Cohen

Larry Cohen (The Black Caesar, It's Alive!) directs this gritty, low budget cop procedural/Sci-fi that plays out like a good X-Files episode. It starts with a young maniac with a rifle on the top of the water tower in New York, plucking off unsuspecting pedestrians. When a tough NY cop Peter Nicolas (Tony Lo Bianco), catches up with him, the young man tells him that god told him to do it before jumping off to his death. After series of mass murders, with all perpetrators having some connections with a long haired androgynous young man, religious Peter finds himself deep in the rabbit hole involving alien abductions, virgin births and his unknown past.
 

The civic unrest ensues after Peter drops the bomb to the press about the perpetrators' famous words. But the film doesn't let its religious implications bog down from going forward. It is very much a self-contained NY movie too. All the verité style location shooting is brimming with raw energy that equals Dog Day Afternoon. Many of the recognizable NY b-movie actors also make appearances. The film is truly bizarre in every aspect and earns a place in my collection as one of the classics.

Back Again

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012) - Jackson

First off, I couldn't find the picture of massive amount of 35mm film cans that contained one release print of the Hobbit. I really wanted to post that instead of the one above. 48 fps- the way of the future eh Jackson? So I put on my 3D glasses expecting to be passively entertained for 3 hours. The way of the future my ass, The Hobbit looks like a Masterpiece Theater from the 80s. I don't know what the big hoopla's about. Ten years ago, video technology was all about emulating that 'film look'. Now Jackson wants to go back to TV soap quality of yesteryears? Thanks to familiar themes and music and likable Martin Freeman as Bilbo, I somewhat settled down watching that irritating imagery. Then it turns out The Hobbit follows the exactly the same path of The Fellowship of the Ring: Leaving home, a big battle underground somewhere, that nasty golum and acceptance in being tiny. It was fresh ten years ago. The magic is gone. Ethereal virginal babe is gone. Boromir gone. Too much musty manliness. I nodded off couple times somewhere in between. Too fucking long. Two more of this in the works? Really? No thanks. I'll probably be dragged into seeing the other two come Christmas time, I'm sure.

Top 20 Discoveries 2012

These are the choice cuts from the films I've seen in 2012 in no particular order

*click on the titles for full reviews
City of Pirates (1983) - Ruiz

My first introduction to Raul Ruiz. Surrealistic and scatterbrained. Can't quite get my grip on him. Or you are not supposed to. I gave in to strange stories and visuals with my second Ruiz film 'Three Cowns and a Sailor'. But at the end it's City of Pirates which stuck with me more. More Ruiz please!

Poetry (2010) - Lee

Poetry is nothing like what I expected. High melodrama for sure, but it's understated and not afraid of reflecting life's nitty-gritty, ugly, awkward details. Much thanks to Yun Jeong-hie's performance as a sixty five year old woman trying to write poetry for the first time while struggling with whatever life throws at her, everything feels real and honest.

In Vanda's Room (2000) - Costa

and
Colossal Youth (2006) - Costa

As far as immersive film experiences blurring fiction and documentary are concerned, there is no other filmmaker than Pedro Costa I can think of. Costa's films remind me that there are still so much beauty left in the world, even in the worst circumstances.

Tren de Sombras (1997) - Guerin

It's Guerin's masterful use of 'cinema as an investigative tool' that I admire so much. Playful and just plain gorgeous, much more so here than his better known In the City of Silvia.

Sing a Song of Sex (1967) - Oshima

It must've been something to be part of Japanese New Wave in the 60s. Must've been a wild and crazy time to live in! Audacious, pointy and uncompromising, Sing a Song of Sex stands out even among the best JNW films.

Au Hasard Balthazar (1966) - Bresson

Doesn't matter if it's a parable about Jesus. It's just a hauntingly beautiful film. Wiazemsky's sorrowful face is unforgettable.

Nouvelle Vague (1990) - Godard

Perhaps the most beautiful of all Godard films and also most romantic.

Running in Madness, Dying in Love (1969) - Wakamatsu

Another masterpiece of Japanese New Wave. Perversely tragic or tragically perverse- take your pick.


Remorques (1941) - Gremillon
Gremillon's film is vastly different from its Hollywood counterpart in its day. I was surprised by its subtle writing and artistry. And Jean Gabin is the man.

Nostalghia (1983) - Tarkovsky

As he demonstrates time and time again, Tarkovsky's faith in humanity is demonstrated in a spectacular manner.

L'important c'est d'aimer (1975) - Zulawski

Romy Schneider gives it all in another one of Zulawski's emotional fireworks display.

Gespenster (2005) - Petzold

Perhaps the most haunting film by Petzold I've seen so far.

Our Beloved Month of August (2008) - Gomes

Whether it came about by accident or chance, I couldn't help falling for Miguel Gomes's loose, playful filmmaking.

The Red Shoes (1948) - Powell & Pressburger


Black Narcissus (1947) - Powell & Pressburger

Underneath the whole technical mastery, there is something very perverse about Powell & Pressburger films that rivals Hitchcock. But their films are much more refined, artistic and beautiful to look at.

Jai été au Bal (1989) - Blank

and
Dry Wood (1973) - Blank

I was delighted to have found Les Blank's music and booze filled Americana.

Le Pont des Arts (2004) - Green

Austere, sincere, bitter, funny, touching... and many more adjectives can be applied to Eugene Green's contemplation of power of art. Natasha Régnier shines as a classical singer.

Les Chanson d'Amour (2007) - Honoré

This is the film that made me reconsider watching musicals. Christophe Honoré appropriates the old into something that reflects modern world. And the result is this beautiful, touching ensemble piece.

Dustin's Top 10 Films released in 2012

Friedkin's Southern Fried Chicken

Killer Joe (2011) - Friedkin

This is one nasty film. Impeccably dressed (in black), always professional Joe Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) is a Dallas policeman who dabbles in contract killing on the side. He gets approached by a degenerate hick family to kill the ex-wife/mom for the life insurance money. But after finding out these lunkheads don't even have the advances to pay him, Joe almost walks out on them, until he sees Dottie (Juno Temple), a sweet, virginal daughter of the family, twirling around under the bright Texas sky. Creepy and scary, McConaughy is a revelation here: with his chiseled face and tall frame, he dominates the claustrophobic surroundings (half of the film takes place inside a trailer). Friedkin adapts Tracy Lett's unabashedly pulpy stage play with extreme economical precision. There is no fat to be found anywhere. And it's really funny. It plays out like an early Coen brothers film but has that extra jolt of Southern sleaze. Killer Joe fully embraces its typical white trash stereotypes and is not afraid of pushing buttons - many would find that 'fried drumstick scene' too distasteful and disturbing. But I have to say it's hugely entertaining. Like in Bug, Friedkin's previous stage adaptation, the veteran director seems to have found his calling in making a small-budget, tight psychological noir that provides actors space to exercise their craft.

Global Lens at MoMA

Global Film Initiative (GFI) and MoMA present Global Lens 2013: 10 films from developing film communities as diverse as Kazakhstan and Chile, in a traveling exhibition. From January 10th - 25th, the program holds up shop in NYC, where many of the titles are making their North American or New York premieres.

To celebrate the 10th year, Global Lens starts with a week-long run of Zhang Yuan's Beijing Flickers and Eduardo Nunes's Southwest; an overlooked earlier film, Life Kills Me (2007), from Chilean director Sebastián Silva (whose 2009 film The Maid was much admired); Cairo 678, a big hit at MoMA's 2011 New Directors/New Films festival, and much more. I am just stupefied by the caliber of these films. I just wish I had more time to watch all ten.


MODEST RECEPTION (Iran)

Two city slickers, Gaveh (director Mani Haghighi) and Leila (Taraneh Alidoosti) decked with plastic bags full of money and an iphone in their luxury foreign car, set out to distribute the money in an impoverished, mountainous border area. With each poor inhabitant they meet, a new Faustian condition is devised for their handouts: They make one brother swear on the Qu'ran that he won't share his money with the other brother; posing as a vet, they throw money at a man who's about to put down his injured mule not to do it; they try to buy off a dead infant from a grieving father digging a grave, and so on. Their subjects are mostly simple, honest folks who are tested by the protagonists to sell out. But as their sardonic games play out, it's their moral ambiguity that is put to the test. This fable-like nature of the film is still very much based on reality. Biting and thought provoking, Modest Reception is another great film from Iran.



CAIRO 678 (Egypt)

Based on real life incidents, Cairo 678 delicately interweaves the lives of three Egyptian women from different social standings, all victims of endemic sexual harassment. The film highlights the culture of shaming victims in a male dominant society. The film was accused of 'inciting violence against men and their genitalia with sharp objects'. It not only succeeds in making a point, but showing a glimpse of a rapidly changing Muslim society as well, with the help of superb performances by its leads (Bosra, Nelly Karim and Nahed El Sebai).



SOUTHWEST (Brazil)

Its audacious 3.66:1 ratio b&w photography accentuates the beauty of this fairy tale steeped in that unmistakable Latin American magical realism tradition. Sudoeste is quite the opposite of recent Cinema Novo, exemplified by City of God and Elite Squad.

Clarice, a girl who bears her dead mother's name gets to live the life she never got a chance to, all in one day, from childhood to old age. Every frame is exquisitely composed. Majestic horizontal space boxes in the viewer's perception, creating a fantastic netherworld. Lyrical and dreamlike, Southwest needs to be seen on the big screen.



SHYAMAL UNCLE TURNS OFF THE LIGHTS (India)

The film tells a simple story of a frugal elderly pensioner's sprawling quest through the Kafkaesque Indian bureaucratic system to turn off the street lights during daytime, because he deems it wasteful. Shyamal Uncle is at once a neorealist tour of a bustling urban Indian jungle and a delightful observational comedy that offers lots of laughs and charms.

Global Lens runs Jan. 10 through 25. Please visit MoMA website for tickets and times.