Harriet Large reviews transnational screwball comedy L’Auberge Espagnole.
Image credit: CW
The film begins with the humble protagonist, Xavier (Romain Duris), receiving guidance on his potential career in economics. He’s advised to go abroad as the future is bound to be intercontinental and thus, the acquisition of a new language is almost essential if he is to be successful. With this in mind, he sets sail for Barcelona, leaving behind his hippie mother and possessive girlfriend (Audrey Tautou), in order to participate in the Erasmus Program.
He moves into an apartment that overtly symbolizes the melting pot atmosphere of the EU, with residents from England, Belgium, Spain, Denmark and Germany, all living in a convivial atmosphere. The ensemble form friendships and budding romances, experiment with drugs, battle cultural and language problems, and ultimately overcome all their differences to become a tight-knit group of oddballs.
Klapisch directs a visually captivating film filled with a variety of special effects, from animated maps to superimposed images. Supplement that with the natural vibrancy and spectacular cityscape of the setting itself and you have a delightful feast for the eyes.
Image credit: BBC
Interspersed with multiple one-liners, the film maintains a humorous tone throughout. However, the comedic highlight comes in the form of Wendy (Kelly Reilly)’s boorish brother. With a complete lack of filter as to what is socially acceptable and what is not, he takes pleasure in identifying the major prejudices of each roommate’s nationality. Although far from politically correct, this aspect of the film generates numerous laugh-out-loud moments.
As someone who’s currently residing in Barcelona, this film was an absolute must-see and certainly didn’t disappoint. It realistically portrays the lifestyle of a ‘year abroader’, right down to disputes over fridge space. Yet at the same time, it successfully conveys the moral that finding one’s identity isn’t nearly as important as revelling in the search itself. L’Auberge is the perfect combination of a heart-warming coming-of-age comedy and the edgier, character-driven ‘art film’.
A feel-good comedy with an edge – it is an utterly relatable film for those on their years abroad and a deeper insight into the chaos that transpires on the continent for those who aren’t.
Ben Lewis finds much to recommend in 2008’s chilling Die Welle (The Wave).
I miss iPlayer. Why? Well apart from being a great tool for procrastinating which UK licensing laws forbid me from accessing out here, it is also the reason why I stumbled across this German gem of a film Die Welle, or ‘The Wave’.
Image credit: The Guardian
This drama, verging on a tame thriller, directed by Dennis Gansel depicts the transformation of a class of typical German schoolchildren into a fascist entity in less than a week. For Project Week, students have to sign up to classes on different ideologies, with anarchist and eventual quasi-Fuhrer Rainer Wenger unwillingly having to teach the Autocracy class.
What follows is the remarkable change of this class from a typical group of young people into an unnerving, unstoppable authoritarian body, self-titled ‘The Wave’.
This transpires after the widely liked and incredibly charismatic Wenger starts a social experiment to show his pupils just how easy an authoritarian state could come about. His motivation? One student remarks that Germany could never become a dictatorship again, with another supporting him by categorically stating that they are ‘way beyond that’.
The film is compelling, with the incremental stages of Rainer’s class’ downward spiral slickly handled. It leaves the viewer wishing that the few savvy students who can see what is unfolding could just make their peers realise the same. What’s more uncomfortable is seeing just how brainwashed one socially rejected pupil is, seemingly lost to the ‘cause’ and leading to very anxious viewing as his actions become increasingly militant.
Rainier (Vogel) gets caught up in The Wave. Image credit: Flickering Myth
The problem is that Rainer loses control of his experiment; he seemingly gets caught up in the very hysteria he creates to educate his students.
At first, he is the boy who never really grew up, and then he’s the anarchist who wants to prove a point, creating a dictatorial persona named Herr Wenger. But just as quickly as his students, Rainer seems to lose himself to Herr Wenger and enjoy his increasing power.
You end up feeling empathy for the man but pity for his hamartia, whose very actions during this one week contrast so much with the glimpses we see of the man normally; a loving husband, a respected and much liked teacher and a kid himself deep down.
It’s also ironic and all the more chilling that he himself gets caught up in the hysteria considering Rainer is a self-proclaimed anarchist. What compounds this sentiment is the fact that the film is based on real life events.
A real social experiment took place in a school in the USA in the 1970s called the Third Wave with remarkable similarities to the film. Combined with the right economic and social situation, the potential for totalitarianism is clear – even now in Greece and the rise of Golden Dawn. It’s a sobering thought that perhaps you can’t leave reality at home. (Sorry Odeon cinemas).
How far could it have gone? Image credit: Collider
I mean, just how far could ‘The Wave’ have gone? Of course there are similarities to Germany’s past, but it would be crazy to think it could have led to the second coming of the Nazis. However, this is only after reflection and several viewings, for there’s a horrible buildup of tension in the film, climaxing with scenes that feel a little contrived given that this is meant to happen within a week.
I do find it hard to believe that a school would allow some of these things to happen. I mean marching on the spot in class? I couldn’t even speak to a friend on the other side of the classroom without risking the wrath of some teachers. Maybe that was their line; quasi-fascist entities yes, questionable noise pollution no. I digress, but the fact that the film was based on a real social experiment does add a sobering quality to the film.
Regardless, The Wave is another captivating watch and really is unfairly rated on some websites. It is one of those films that will stay with you, even years after you’ve seen it, only to resurface when you find yourself needing to write on foreign film for your university student newspaper.
Just maybe ignore the wave hand gesture. They must have had a laugh doing that, or perhaps it’s just a fine example of something being lost in translation.
Now practicing what he preaches on a year abroad in Spain, our resident foreign film buff Ben Lewis goes local with Daniel Monzón’s 2009 prison drama Cell 211.
To coincide with my year abroad, it only seemed appropriate to seek out a Spanish film that could relate to my experience of contemporary Spain, but equally one that was popular with critics and public alike. Guess what? I struck gold.
The worst first day: unfortunate prison guard Juan Image credit: IMDB
Celda 211 or Cell 211 in English, is a gripping prison action film that will remind you of Prison Break and make you wonder how it came about that the Spanish lovechild of Colin Farrell and Vin Diesel would star as the leader of the inmates. Struggling with not going to see it right this very moment? I thought as much.
After the opening credits eventually end, with what seems to be a collaboration between every western European film studio, the film depicts probably the worst first day anyone has ever had, when new prison guard and protagonist Juan Oliver takes it upon himself to go into a work a day before he officially starts.
What proceeds to happen is our unfortunate protagonist succumbing to an injury and being left behind by his colleagues mere moments before a full-blown prison riot breaks out. Unfortunately for him, this develops into an unstable stand-off between military police and prisoners, whilst the impotent guards watch on, via the one unbroken camera in the prison.
What we see throughout the rest of the film are the events of the riot from different perspectives: the prison guard who left Oliver behind, Oliver’s pregnant wife on the outside, the riot’s key figures and of course Oliver and his constant struggle not to be found out.
Juan’s pregnant wife Elena (Marta Etura). Image credit: EW
There is definitely a tragic quality that encompasses this whole film. From the premise of the film itself – an innocent prison guard forced to extreme measures to stay alive, to the ending which after such a big buildup is just lacklustre (which I will forgive due to artistic and thematic reasoning), and even the efforts of the despicable leader of the prisoners, Malamadre, trying to enact real change.
This point is best summed up by the fact that Oliver was just trying to make a good impression and only took the job for his family. I mean, what’s a man to do? I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, but it’s definitely the predominant undercurrent of the film.
There are several scenes in the film that are not for the squeamish, (including right at the beginning – you have been warned!) and it is exactly this juxtaposition of hyperviolence, immediately followed by warm heartfelt flashbacks to Oliver and his wife joking around and subsequently back to Oliver’s desperation in prison that just eats away at your soul.
It’s adept direction by Daniel Monzón and, combined with the film’s tragic qualities, leaves the kind of feeling of emptiness you’d be more accustomed to from art-house cinema.
Malamadre (Luis Tosar) leads the riot. Image credit: IMDB
Always a fan of a political critique, I think this is slickly achieved in the film in Oliver’s speech towards the end in response to the Government negotiator. To summarise: the Government forces people to take extreme direct action to be heard and to force actual change. It’s expertly done, working on two levels, with the prisoners acting as a microcosm for the larger unimprisoned citizens on the outside.
Another interesting aspect is the presence of three members of the Basque separatist group ETA, who are mere pawns in the power struggle between prisoners and government. If they’re killed, the Basque government will seek answers – which pressurises the Spanish government into finding a resolution as quickly as possible.
The repercussions of mistreating or killing these prisoners across mainland Spain is a political nightmare, and from the perspective of a student in Barcelona, where Catalan pride is common, this adds an extra air of authenticity to the film.
To conclude, Cell 211 is a brilliant film which I highly recommend you see at some point in the near future. The expert direction, strong acting and well-handled political critique make for a compelling watch. Just maybe don’t watch it before a Monday Arena, unless you want to be cold on the inside which no matter of cheesy chips afterwards will be able to fix. Well, maybe…
4/5
Seen any good foreign film lately? Let us know on Facebook, Twitter or by commenting below. And for more foreign films to look forward to in 2013, read our coverage of the BFI London Film Festival.
Ben Lewis takes us on a journey into Brazilian cinema via 2010’s Elite Squad: The Enemy Within, which enjoyed huge critical and commercial success at the time of its release.
Image credit: IMDB
With a name that, putting it politely, neither sounds foreign nor particularly inspiring, Elite Squad: The Enemy Within – similarly named in both English and Portuguese – is not only Brazilian, but also a brilliant film. Don’t believe me? Well it is the highest grossing film ever in Brazil. Not too shabby at all.
Having not seen the first Elite Squad, I assure you, that there are no niggling questions about characters’ pasts or concerns with a lack of understanding of the plot. In fact, director José Padilha once stated in an interview that he tries to make movies that are stand-alones. This gives you the option to watch them conventionally or, as is popular in Exeter, edgily (because what’s more daring and alternative than watching a film series out of sequence?). My thanks for that José.
So, Elite Squad: The Enemy Within is a fast-paced, gritty, socially and politically critical, semi-fictional action film focusing on BOPE (a special division of the Rio de Janeiro police much like the American SWAT). The film handles family relationships, organised crime and corruption all the way up to the political echelons, with protagonist and BOPE commander, Roberto Nascimento (Wagner Moura) at the heart of it all.
After a massacre at maximum security Bangu 1 prison, Nascimento is kicked out of BOPE and promoted to Undersecretary of Intelligence – because despite the massacre, he remains a very popular figure and politically, that’s all that matters.
Image credit: Cinephile
Over the course of the movie, Nascimento not only has to deal with clearing the favelas (shanty towns) of Rio de Janeiro of crime, but he must also handle the militia whose corruption eats away at Rio de Janeiro.
Along the way, he not only discovers the extent of the corruption that grips Rio, but has to juggle nemesis, Fraga, the individual responsible for him being kicked out of BOPE, one of the left-wing progressives he detests so much and coincidentally his ex-wife’s new significant other. If that wasn’t enough, he also struggles to connect with his son who is influenced by the teachings of Fraga.
What struck me most (barring witnessing one of the finest action movies in a long time that actually manages to have both action and a plot) was the acting, particularly by Moura. Nascimento is an intriguing character, loyal to his BOPE ‘brothers’ and a strong believer in the good that his job does.
However, he is also a firm believer in violence, that prisoners (at least the important cartel figures inBangu 1) are ‘scumbags’ and is happy to let them all kill each other. He also has a strong disliking of left-wing identifying intellectuals for their leniency on criminals. Moura’s mixture of aloofness and passion really brings this to life and makes for a strong performance. What’s more, you can’t help but root for him as he seemingly single-handedly works to destroy ‘the System’ which plagues Rio de Janeiro, despite its overwhelming nature.
Image credit: BBC
The cinematography during the emptying of the favelas is such that you feel at the heart of the action which seems to be a documentary.
You’re the one pursuing and documenting the fleeing criminals as seen with an over the shoulder shot inside an armoured vehicle chasing down the gang members. If anything, the ruthlessness and efficiency of BOPE in carrying out its job is enhanced and you’re left with the impression that you’re going to need a miracle to escape an encounter with them.
I took issue with the ending, which was perhaps too optimistic and unrealistic, lying more within the realm of fantasy than reality, which was a shame after the realistic tone to the movie. I’ll leave it for you to discover what happens, but this is my only quibble.
Padilha should be on every best director list, and I’ll be one of the first to see his take on RoboCop after the success of Elite Squad: The Enemy Within. It would be an injustice to even try compare it with recent Hollywood offerings such as A Good Day to Die Hard, The Expendables 2 or Total Recall. This is definitely another example of a superior piece of World cinema.
I like that Padilha offers a political critique, which as he says, asks why the police and prisons are mismanaged and blames it largely on politics. There is clearly an unhealthy political environment, exacerbated by police brutality, which is both glorified and condemned by Padilha in the film.
I highly recommend this movie, which is most definitely one of the best action films I have seen in a long time. In fact, I may just go and buy the first one now. See you in a week, readers.
5/5
Ben Lewis
What are your foreign film picks? Tell us on Facebook, Twitter or by commenting below.
In the third instalment of his foreign film feature, Ben Lewis tackles a seminal Japanese cult classic, and tells us why we should put down our copies of The Hunger Games and step away…
Battle Royale is the film The Hunger Games should have been.
Image Credit: Total Film
Bold, readers – I know. ‘Hunger-lings’ will not agree; it did after all break the non-sequel opening record, taking $155 million, and skyrocket to the top of the US Box Office. Nonetheless, the book the Hunger Games is based on, bears a remarkable similarity with the Japanese novel and film Battle Royale (2000) written by Koushun Takami and directed by Kinji Fukasaku, respectively.
My apologies, Suzanne Collins and Hunger-lings: the original is vastly superior to the Hollywood remake. To prove this and avoid a comparative review, does any of this sound familiar: children are ordered to fight to the death… with random weapons… with a special location for the event… with safe and danger zones… in order to gain control and remove the possibility of opposition? Touché on not being sued, Suzanne.
So, Battle Royale, an action thriller, in its unwaveringly gritty, bloody and hyper-violent style, tells the story of Class 3-B and protagonist Shuya Nanahara, who is chosen by the Japanese government to take part in this year’s Battle Royale, a three-day spectacle of students killing each other until only one remains (looking back now, my school trip to Kew Gardens really wasn’t all that bad in comparison).
The backdrop to this is immediately revealed: Japan has collapsed, unemployment is at 15% with ten million unemployed, 800,000 school children have boycotted school and adults have lost confidence. Fearful of the youth, the Government has passed the ‘Millennium Educational Reform Act’ in order to maintain control. Non-compliance during the three days is not an option, with each child having a dog collar attached to their neck, which can be triggered to explode at any time.
Image Credit: Rotten Tomatoes
Alliances take shape ranging from children hopeful of escape who take refuge in a lighthouse, to a quasi-freedom fighting group who want to hack the military’s computer system and destroy the whole operation. Then there are dear Mitsuko and Kiriyama, two sociopathic individuals. Mitsuko definitely rivals any Hollywood femme fatale, seducing two boys before killing them both.
However it is the class’ former teacher who is the most interesting and memorable character. Despite his callous and unforgiving nature (bearing in mind, he resigns after being stabbed by one of his students), seen particularly during the children’s briefing, there is hidden depth to him which makes you consider the extent to which he has changed from the past and just how disillusioned he has become. He’s definitely more than fifty shades of grey.
Verdi’s ‘Requiem – Dies Irae’ is the perfect musical piece to introduce the movie, set to the image of waves crashing against rocks, symbolising the chaos, ferocity and intensity of the movie. The whole of the soundtrack though, composed and conducted by Masamichi Amano, really is brilliant, suiting the scene and guiding you along the emotional rollercoaster that awaits.
Image Credit: Rotten Tomatoes
There is little, if any restraint shown in the handling of such a sensitive subject matter, especially in an American and Japanese context. In fact, Battle Royale would predate several school slashings in Japan in the 2000s, which would only add to its lasting notoriety and cult status.
It’s something you’d expect more from an art house film, and if we compare Battle Royale,with for instance, Hollywood’s Gangster Squad, which had to remove the theatre shooting scene and in fact film a completely different scene as a replacement in light of the Aurora Shooting, then the fact it had such mainstream success and would become one of the top ten grossing films in Japan is remarkable – despite it being deplored by the Japanese government.
The pacing of the movie is perfect, with the premise of the film set out within twenty minutes so we can focus on the main event itself. Love, lost innocence and sorrow come out over the course of the movie, and you can’t help but empathise with Kawada, although just why, I’ll leave you to discover for yourself. At the end, you’ll wish that the sequel was just as good – don’t even bother.
Ultimately, the film makes for a compelling viewing and is arguably one of cinema’s greats. It takes no prisoners (literally), is commercially and critically successful and a film that should be on every ‘to see before you…’ list.
I strongly recommend that you watch it – treat yourself in your break from revision and take comfort that with unemployment in Greece at 27.2% (a figure higher than than in Battle Royale and yet the nation collapsed) and in Eurozone countries at 12.1%, that European democracy hasn’t flatlined and that we aren’t all on some island in the Atlantic or Mediterranean fighting each other to the death. I guess that three-hour stats exam or two-hour Spanish exam doesn’t look so bad after all…
5/5
Ben Lewis
Seen Battle Royale and want to tell us your thoughts? Does it matter that The Hunger Games was virtually the same? Let us know via Facebook, Twitter, or by commenting below.
The second instalment of Ben Lewis’sview on foreign film sees him perplexed by Dogtooth, a chilling drama from Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos, and winner of the Prix Un Certain Regard at Cannes.
After the screening of Regarde la Mer by François Ozon for my contemporary French cinema module, the general feeling was that of revulsion and invariably along the lines of what on earth have we just watched? (A toothbrush being rubbed in feces and then actually used by actress Sasha Hails, for example). People have walked out of cinemas for less shocking films.
Image credit: The Guardian
Yet, upon reading about Dogtooth and watching the bizarre trailer, I felt I was up to the challenge of watching it – at the very least so I could report back to the readers of Exeposé. I thought that whatever happened, it ultimately would not be as shocking as Regarde la Mer. Apparently readers, Ozon has a long lost Greek brother.
So where to begin? To its credit, Dogtooth is one of the most memorable films I have ever seen, and an important film in Greek cinema being only the fifth Greek film to be nominated for an Oscar. It rivals Requiem for a Dream, Compliance and Regarde la Mer for impact, but of the three, it is probably most comparable to the unnerving and uncomfortable feeling experienced in viewing Compliance.
The film revolves around a Greek family who, barring the father, live an isolated life in a large countryside house. However, this family differ from others in that the parents have chosen the wildly popular and completely healthy option of bringing up their three late-teen, to early twenties children, completely oblivious to the real world.
Image credit: Rotten Tomatoes
Their methods include changing the meanings of words such as ‘phone’, so that it means a salt pot. The children are terrified to leave the grounds of their house, and they believe that the cat is the most ferocious and deadly animal in the animal kingdom due to the laughable act and story concocted by their father. This example provokes one of the many memorable scenes of the film, in which the father teaches his children to defend themselves from the cat, by getting all three children and his wife on all fours, and to bark manically like dogs.
The success of the parents in keeping their children effectively ignorant and afraid of the world is incredibly chilling, and it makes for even more uncomfortable viewing when we realise this fictional portrayal has real-life similarities, such as with the case of Josef Fritzl and the imprisonment of his daughter in his house for over twenty years. Thus we can’t reassure ourselves that this film is just crazy art-house cinema.
If this wasn’t memorable enough, there are also scenes where the father smashes a VCR recorder around the head of his female security guard for bringing traces of the outside world into the house (two movies including one of the Rocky series), as well as the elder daughter performing an eerily accurate rendition of a dance from Flashdance.
This subsequently leads to her smashing out her ‘dogtooth’ with a dumbbell. Her reasoning? The parents tell the children over dinner one night that they will only be ready to leave the house when their dogtooth has fallen out.
Image credit: Slant Magazine
There are definitely allegorical references to authoritarian power and oppression. The namelessness of the children (promoting conformity), their brainwashing and vulnerability bear many resemblances to the lives of citizens in former extreme right and left-wing nations. The son killing an innocent cat may be seen as a metaphor for what the parents have done to the children.
They clearly would not function in the real world, or would at the very least, need a month’s slot on the Jeremy Kyle show.
Ultimately, the film is probably more for the film buff or individual that wants to claim to have seen the weirdest movie ever – and that’s without me revealing the most repulsive aspect of the movie, which is the catalyst for the demise of the father’s control. I will leave that for you to discover for yourselves.
Regardless, the fact that I am still questioning what exactly I witnessed means that the film has at least been original. I’m just glad that there hasn’t been a co-production between François Ozon, Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream) and Giorgos Lanthimos (Dogtooth). I don’t think the world, or Jeremy Kyle, is ready for that just yet.
3/5
Have you seen Dogtooth, or anything quite as bizarre? Let us know your favourite grotesque cinematic moments via Facebook, Twitter, or by commenting below.
In a new foreign film feature,Benjamin Lewisreviews Pablo Larrain’s film No, which was nominated for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar in 2012. Critics raved at the time, but was it worth the hype?
When you can’t get the Spanish for ‘Chile, happiness is coming’ out of your head and start singing it enthusiastically around the house – much to the confusion of your parents – it’s fair to say that the Chilean film No has had a lasting impact. Directed by Pablo Larrain, No focuses on the 1988 Chilean referendum to decide whether to extend Pinochet’s rule by eight years, from the perspective of the respective ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ campaigns.
Larraín’s film is an expertly crafted blend of fact and fiction revolving around a subject matter that is historically important, and still relevant in the context of political upheavals like the Arab Spring. The cinematography in particular makes you feel like you’ve stepped into 1980s Chile by bringing the historical events to life. This is mostly due to the use of the now obsolete analogue U-matic camera from the early 1980s, which Larraín used to merge the archival footage with his own vision. The result is an air of authenticity, as film and archival footage seamlessly blend together. So seamlessly in fact, that at times it’s hard to know what’s being acted.
Image credit: BFI
Larrain’s directing is highly stylised, with a tone that whilst not dark and oppressive as per V for Vendetta, is far from that of Rush Hour 2 where danger and violence is trivialised. It’s perhaps best described as cautious optimism. This tone is reflected in the desire of René (Gael García Bernal), an advertising executive, to focus on happiness as the central theme for the ‘No’ campaign.
My only criticism, barring the ratty haircut that García Bernal has in the movie, is that the scenes with his son and his estranged wife detract from the compelling war between both advertising campaigns and the even more interesting relationship between René and his boss Lucho, whose bickering and insulting add another layer to the conflict. His wife, Veronica, is unlikeable and his son offers very little to the plot, despite an attempt at heightening the tension at the breakup of the ‘No’ rally.
What is most remarkable about this film are the parallels that can be drawn with contemporary politics. At one point in the movie, during a meeting with leaders of the ‘Yes’ campaign, someone says: “you have a system in which anyone can be rich. Careful; not everyone. Anyone’. In other words, No tells us that an individual, with dedication and focus, can make change. This is something that has been seen here in Exeter, with the university recently becoming the first English university to go ‘conflict free’, thanks to the work of the members of‘Project Congo’ of the ‘Be the Change’ society.
Ultimately I strongly recommend No, and whilst it may be an oversimplification that an advertising campaign and catchy jingle was responsible for Pinochet losing power, Larraín believes it had an important role. As a result, we should consider the impact of marketing in politics, even twenty-five years ago.
The catchiness of ‘Chile, happiness is coming’ is undeniable, and as a master class in marketing, the film should be at the top of the Christmas list of Gocompare.com’s advertising department. Then at least, we might get some relief from the considerably crueler regime of the opera singer. Just say “no”, kids.
It was to no great surprise that Amour, after winning best film at the César awards, Cannes, and Best Foreign Language film at Toronto and the Golden Globes, would also add to its impressive tally with taking Best Foreign Film at the Academy Awards. It arguably would have been even more shocking than Ben Affleck’s snub for Best Director or host Seth Macfarlane’s opening song with a ‘memorable’ tribute to Hollywood’s actresses.
Image Credit: The Guardian
Michael Haneke, Amour’s esteemed director and celebrated European auteur’s latest work focuses on the deterioration of a marriage and couple, after the elderly wife suffers a stroke. With an introduction that essentially ruins the end of the film, as what ultimately happens to Anne (Emmanuelle Riva) is revealed within minutes. We watch the aftermath of an operation, following a stroke, which leaves her paralysed on one side and needing the use of a wheelchair. And that readers, is effectively the rest of the movie, with a few appearances from the estranged daughter and former piano protégé of blooming fame.
Emmanuelle Riva’s performance is compelling, and at 85 years of age, it would have been fitting for the Oscars’ oldest ever nominee to win Best Actress. However, as Amour seemingly complies with Haneke’s pessimistic movies, perhaps it was never meant to be! She really does steal the movie, convincing the viewer she is gravely ill and yet, this juxtaposition with her reluctance both to lose her independence and not be a burden on Georges (Jean-Louis Trintignant) is powerful and eerily realistic.
One of the two most memorable and striking moments of the movie is when she tells Georges that she no longer wants to live. Credit where credit’s due; the casting is brilliant and Trintignant’s performance as Georges, whilst inevitably overlooked when paired with Riva’s, is strong and you really do empathise with the situation he is faced with, whilst feeling moved by the reality of his situation.
Considering its impressive repertoire of accolades, you’d expect a keen film enthusiast to jump at the opportunity to view Amour. However, unlike most of the films up for the Best Picture category, Amour is not a film you can immerse yourself in. Let me put my viewing into context; having seen three other Haneke films, I was well accustomed to his style and yet had the smallest of hopes the auteur may have wanted to have more happening in two-plus-hours than usual.
Alas, staying true to form, he did not. It’s hard work and you’d expect nothing less from a Haneke film, which ultimately leaves you feeling depressed, cold, and wishing Georges had smothered Anne an hour earlier, and then you, with that pillow too.
The problem is that Haneke is of the philosophy that cinema is meant to be challenging, thought-provoking and with a clear separation between viewer and film. With regards to the latter, that is no problem at all, as Amour is two hours of Emmanuelle Riva incrementally leaving Earth with a sensational, but uncomfortably realistic performance and very little besides.
An analogy I would offer is he is the anti-Tarantino. Where Tarantino loves action, Haneke thrives on a lack of it. Where Tarantino is escapism, Haneke is intellectual stimulation and will stop you at every opportunity, including even getting comfortable in your standard cinema seat. Nonetheless, for Trintignant and Riva’s performances alone, this film is worthy of a watch – just don’t expect to feel alive inside for a day.
exeposedev 