The Wonders (Le meraviglie)

THE WONDERS (Le meraviglie)                  B+                                          
Italy  Switzerland  Germany  (110 mi)  2014  d:  Alice Rohrwacher             Official site [Italy]

While there are notorious brother combinations in cinema, the Lumière brothers, the Marx brothers, the Taviani brothers, the Dardennes brothers, Albert and David Maysles, Tony and Ridley Scott, John Michael and Martin McDonagh, Bob and Harvey Weinstein, or the Coen brothers, to name a few, also brother and sister combinations in Andy and transgender sister Lana (formerly Larry) Wachowski, Warren Beatty and Shirley MacLaine, John and Joan Cusack, or Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal, also a mixed bunch like the Arquette, Barrymore, Carradine, Fonda, Huston, Redgrave, Cassavetes, or Coppola families.  Sister combinations are rare, but would have to include Canadian twin sisters, Jen and Sylvia Soska, who wrote and directed American Mary  (2012), Meg and Jennifer Tilly, and the Ephron sisters, writer/director Nora and Delia, who sometimes shared writing credits, such as YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998).  To this group we would have to add the Rohrwacher sisters, where Italian writer/director Alice directs her older sister Alba in this film, which adds an unmistakable element of intimacy and familiarity.  Something of an astute choice by a jury led by Jane Campion, this was the Grand Prix (2nd Place) winner at Cannes in 2014, won by Ceylan’s Winter Sleep (Kis uykusu), with a shared 3rd prize going to Xavier Dolan’s Mommy and Godard’s Goodbye to Language 3D (Adieu au langage), where it’s taken this film a year longer than the others to be screened internationally.  Part of the problem is the often repeated criticism of a lack of female directors at Cannes, which only exposes the larger issue, which is the festival’s growing trend to cling to its short list of established directors that are routinely invited back into competition, placing less importance on new discoveries, where rising talent inevitably ends up screening out of competition in the less glamorous categories where they are rarely awarded for the distinctly diverse voices they bring to the festival.  Thankfully, this was an exception, though the smaller scale and intimate nature of the subject may leave this film with a more limited viewing audience than the others, a German, Swiss, Italian production, produced by Oscilloscope Pictures in the United States, a production company that distributes Kelly Reichardt films, for instance, or smaller independent films like the equally exquisite These Birds Walk (2013), Stand Clear of the Closing Doors (2013), or Embrace of the Serpent (El abrazo de la serpiente)  (2015), which simply can’t match the financial backing of bigger name films.     

Described by the director as “Personal, not autobiographical,” claiming male directors would not even be asked this question, this is a more challenging and delicate work, mystifyingly strange and atmospheric, set in the isolation and openness of the Tuscan countryside where neighbors are rarely ever seen, centering around an offbeat family where the transplanted German father Wolfgang (Sam Louwyck) actually sleeps outdoors under the stars, where he is viewed as something of an outsider continually barking out orders at his family all day long, seemingly never satisfied with their efforts, while his much calmer wife Angelica (Alba Rohrwacher) and 4 children (all girls), along with his wife’s sister Cocò (Sabine Timoteo), all sleep inside their run down farmhouse that they are on the verge of losing from lack of payment.  While her previous film CORPO CELESTE (2011) premiered at Cannes in the Director’s Fortnight, another impressive coming-of-age portrait of a preteen girl, this story centers around the life of conscientiously soft-spoken Gelsomina (Maria Alexandra Lungu), which was Giuletta Masina’s name in Fellini’s LA STRADA (1954), played with more subtle reserve by a young 12-year old, the oldest daughter who is for all practical purposes the head of the household, already running the family business of beekeeping, where her special talent is keeping a watchful eye on her younger sisters while making them all participate in the creation of honey.  Her role is interestingly modeled after older sister Alba, as the Tuscan born director was raised by a German father and an Italian mother, where they were, in fact, multilingual beekeepers, so what particularly stands out is the attention to detail, shot mostly using handheld cameras by cinematographer Hélène Louvart, where the overriding sense of naturalism is beautifully expressed in the social realist tradition where there isn’t an ounce of artifice anywhere to be seen.  That is, until they accidentally run into an on-location television photoshoot that borders on the surreal, adding an absurd element of reality TV spectacle and overreach, especially as dramatized by the female host Milly Catena, Monica Bellucci as a mythological goddess in an all-white Brünnhilde wig wearing any number of gigantic, misshapen hats on her head, usually surrounded by a cast of adoring servants dressed in togas or wearing laurel wreathes from ancient historical times, yet to Gelsomina, she’s the most beautiful woman that she’s ever seen.   

While there’s a mythical aura surrounding the promises of this TV show, called Village Wonders, where judges evaluate local products from the most “traditional” family for quality and authenticity, the first place prize money could actually save their farm.  Wolfgang refuses to participate on principle, as he doesn’t want outside sources meddling into his business, while Gelsomina doesn’t see the harm in signing up, especially when the family is so financially strapped that they take on a young teenage German boy named Martin (Luis Huilca Logrono) in order to receive parental foster payments, but the boy almost never speaks and comes with a questionable criminal background.  What Wolfgang doesn’t want the outside world to see is how he benefits from an existing system driven by child labor, where he routinely skirts laws and health standards regarding farm produce, as he can’t afford to upgrade, continuing to operate in an old-fashioned, backwards era manner where exploiting youth is his best option.  While a darker cloud is always hovering somewhere within the vicinity, the beauty of the film is how it so lovingly captures the elusiveness of youth, largely seen through the eyes of the young sisters who parade around the premises as if they own the place, where they are literally rooted to the land, each one an extension of the other, showing a surprising degree of sensitivity to how the world is seen with an almost magical innocence.  Even as they are called back into the house, the two youngest nonchalantly return as instructed, but not before they each trounce through the only mud puddle that can be seen lying in the middle of the road, where their giddy delight is one of the unspoken pleasures of the film.  Constantly filling the screen with their childlike curiosities, the film seems to accentuate the natural order of things, where Gelsomina guides the others with a firm but gentle hand, where whatever tumultuous relationship exists between her parents largely exists offscreen, where her father’s firecracker temper becomes expected after awhile, but she exists on a completely different rhythm altogether, showing an interest in Martin, even as the others generally avoid him, as he never says anything.  His quiet sensitivity matches her own reticence, where the intrusion of the vulgar realities from the TV show make a mockery of the instilled values that they embrace, leading to several scenes of near transcendent poetry, a dreamlike sequence where Martin runs away and gets lost on a nearby island, taking refuge in a cave at night, only to be discovered by Gelsomina, where the dancing shadows reflected on the illuminated walls lit by a burning fire suggest an altogether different mindset than what is portrayed onscreen, while the final shots, after everything has been sold or given away, reveal the bareness of an empty farmhouse, a graceful reminder of the life that once filled these rooms.  

Irreversible (Irréversible)

IRREVERSIBLE (Irréversible)    A                             

France  (97 mi)  2002  ‘Scope  d:  Gaspar Noé 

A film whose reputation precedes the first viewing, knowing in advance that something terribly ugly was going to happen right away, one can’t help but be dumfounded at the superb use of sound in the opening sequence.  Mind you, from all the advance hype one is already in a state of heightened alert from the beginning, but far and away, this exceeded any expectations.  Speaking as one who is easily squeamish, who could not watch the delight of the woman in AUDITION (1999), the fucked up, hateful beatings and the profanity-laced misogyny in DOG DAYS (2001), hell, even the last fifteen minutes of REQUIEM FOR A DREAM (2000), all nightmares, nightmares...

 ...but I was transfixed here, as that truly ominous use of sound, those oscillating waves of mental mayhem which “preceded” the entry into the Hell of an underground male leather club called Rectum, adding those dizzying camera movements and a continuous stream of profanity, shouting, and terror as they move through one blurring act of perversity to the next, those waves of sound never stopped until a man was actually beaten to death.  Can't speak for anyone else, but that's as gripping a scene as anything in cinema.  It is that SOUND that sticks in your head, and the unbelievable energy associated with it, where the intensity level created by this scene is simply indescribable.  There’s nothing else out there like it.  It is intoxicating, almost like a film within a film, a scene that could easily stand alone as a work of an avant-garde or experimental film artist.  The unique “thrill” from that opening never goes away, as those sound waves keep pounding in your head and keep driving the energy underneath every subsequent sequence.  That opening sequence is simply unforgettable, where one never forgets that dramatically awesome power, that synergy of visuals and sound.  As writer Jason Shawhan states in The Film Journal The Sense-Deranging Sound + Vision of Gaspar Noe's Irreversible “You find, in the sequence at the Rectum, a soundscape that meshes with the nervous system in a way that hasn't been done since Argento's work with the Goblins in SUSPIRIA.  Sound and vision are so perfectly fused that it becomes impossible to separate them...here is a case of extreme sonic frequencies and visual disorientation as a necessary means to experiencing the film...the kind of experience that changes a viewer forever.”

Mark Harris:

Even a movie's being homophobic need not disqualify it from serious consideration, in my view. Gaspar Noe's Irreversible strikes me as most certainly homophobic, in the exact sense of "phobic" -- afraid of, even horrified of, homosexuality, and also of anality as a distinct phenomenon. (Consider the name of the leather club, The Rectum, and the repeated cry "Where is The Rectum?"; the name of the rapist, The Tapeworm; and that long symbolic tunnel where the rape occurs.) But Irreversible also strikes me as one of the most powerful movies of recent years. I was shaken by the film, but I did not find it hateful.

Well for what it's worth, despite the provocative controversy, this is one of the best films of the year as it combines such a powerful, boldly impactive film style with subject matter.  While bowled over by that unforgettable oscillating sound loop in the opening sequence that just screams out waves of anticipated danger, a device that certainly remains under your skin throughout the film, a non visual device that is infinitely more powerful than witnessing the ensuing brutality, which happens so quickly, engulfed in a murky, barely lit, nightmarish dream world, where the gruesome reality of it, witnessing a man being beaten to death, can barely match the power of the menacing atmosphere that is simply overwhelming.  In this case, the audacity of the artistic creation is indescribably brilliant, while the actions of men are equally gruesome and brutal, so the depiction of otherworldly eeriness is strangely in balance, artistically speaking.  That opening sequence is one of the most powerful and intensely exhilarating sequences ever experienced. 

That said, this sequence is strangely not the controversial, or so-called hateful or misogynistic scene, which comes shortly afterwards, where the lingering aftereffects of its power in some ways overshadows the subsequent shot-in-real-time rape scene, which instead of being engulfed in an extraordinary art design, is shown straight, exactly as is, where the nonchalance of the rapist is contrasted against the horribly agonizing sounds of the female victim, where again, it is the sound that provides the overriding sense of horror and brutality.  The uncomfortable length of this sequence is stunning, as we keep waiting for it to be over, to cut to another scene, but the director stays with it for an interminable length, thoroughly reminding the viewers what an invasive, emotionally draining and physically exhaustive experience this is, as rape is overwhelmingly brutal, a parallel to the devastating opening sequence.  Stylistically, the length of the scene recalls Terence Malick's THE THIN RED LINE (1998), where the audience is subjected to wave after wave of relentless military assaults, where the physically exhaustive accumulation of death and carnage takes its toll over time, as it was intended to do.  

The first sequence is filled with the thrill of anticipation, what are they looking for, what kind of world is this, where the raw physical presence of a strange fascinating underworld guides our interest, culminating in a chilling act of violence which ends in a stunning silence.  The second sequence is surprising by the complete lack of artifice, as all possible outside distraction is stripped away, leaving us helpless, forcing the audience to endure the bestial attacks that women around the world suffer daily, yet male-dominated societies barely lift a finger of outrage or protest.  And if it happens to men in prison, or if they get HIV infected, well who cares?  They shouldn't have allowed themselves to get locked up in the first place, ignoring the societal inequities that place 25% of young black males under 30 in prison.  No, it would be hard to call the *film* hateful, not as hateful as reality is, war, torture, rape, the death penalty, but it's certainly provocative, as it stirs up the feelings of resentment and outrage. 

As for Ebert's take (Irreversible Movie Review & Film Summary (2003) | Roger Ebert):

The fact is, the reverse chronology makes "Irreversible" a film that structurally argues against rape and violence, while ordinary chronology would lead us down a seductive narrative path toward a shocking, exploitative payoff. By placing the ugliness at the beginning, Gaspar Noe forces us to think seriously about the sexual violence involved. The movie does not end with rape as its climax and send us out of the theater as if something had been communicated. It starts with it, and asks us to sit there for another hour and process our thoughts. It is therefore moral - at a structural level.

In total agreement here on the backwards chronology, as it does change what would otherwise be a nihilistic, exploitive, and highly pessimistic film into one that at least allows for a differing outcome.  It opens up the world of possibilities for people to eradicate so much of the needless and unnecessary pain that is inflicted upon others and gives us a chance to reevaluate ourselves in this light.  The near Eden ending is really just the beginning, as each new life offers a new beginning, and in that there is an indescribable hope.

A Burning Hot Summer (Un été brûlant)

A BURNING HOT SUMMER (Un été brûlant)           B-                   

France  Italy  Switzerland  (95 mi)  2011  ‘Scope  d:  Philippe Garrel

For whatever reason, Philippe Garrel films rarely play in the United States, where in the last two decades only 2 of the director’s 8 films had an official release here, where I Don’t Hear the Guitar Anymore (J'entends plus la... (1991) was released in the USA in 2008, 17 years after it played in Europe, following the successful release of his critically acclaimed REGULAR LOVERS (2005).  Others films, like this one, which will be available to the public on View On Demand beginning the 29th, have made their way to various art houses, but are virtually unseen by the viewing public.  Garrel is an acquired taste and is not for everyone, but he’s a throwback to a different era of cinema where film had to matter, using an autobiographical, stream-of-consciousness Proustian style of personal confession, something along the lines of Jean Eustache, whose wrenching drama The Mother and the Whore (La Maman et la Putain) (1973) remains a seminal work in a radical and provocative style of cinema that challenges the viewer, a searing confessional masterpiece that unfurls in exhausting, exhilarating detail.  Garrel’s characters writhe in the agony of their own despairing souls, where the only life worth paying attention to is one that recognizes how intertwined life and death really are, as life doesn’t exist without human tragedy.  Marc Cholodenko has co-written all of Garrel’s films in the past 20 years with the director, where their style is to convey complexity through completely unsentimentalized emotional directness.  Perhaps this family might be comparable to America’s John Huston, whose father Walter acted in over 50 films, and whose children Angelica and Danny have both built successful careers in motion pictures and television.  Philippe’s father Maurice acted in over a hundred French films, while his son Louis first appeared onscreen at age 6 and has gone on to replace Jean-Pierre Léaud (who happens to be his godfather) as the next generation’s heart throb in French films.

In typical Garrel style, the film opens with a suicide, as the bleary-eyed Louis Garrel speeds his luxury BMW into a tree, becoming an image of death and stillness, where his last thought was a naked image of his wife (Monica Bellucci).  The rest of the film is a flashback narrated by his best friend Paul (Jérôme Robart), a relatively nondescript kind of guy who sells revolutionary political papers on the street while working part-time as a movie extra.  Paul’s girlfriend is Élisabeth (Céline Sallette), a cute girl he meets on the movie set, becoming lifelong partners.  Frédéric (Louis Garrel) is a painter living in a gorgeous villa in Italy with his voluptuous older wife Angèle (Bellucci), something of a sexpot movie star, where he invites them both to come spend the summer together in Italy, as he’s having difficulty painting, “All that dead beauty is so uninspiring.”  Frédéric and Paul spend all their time together discussing revolutionary politics, among other things, where Paul believes it’s a question of the police, as they inevitably support the Fascist state, where you have to actively live a life that defies the need for police, suggesting “Fidelity is an outdated, petit-bourgeois concept.”  Frédéric, on the other hand, believes in art and love, tolerant of all political views so long as he’s allowed to live his life.  Élisabeth starts feeling left out as Paul is constantly at Frédéric’s side, where he’s not ashamed to admit he enjoys admiring his wife, which is a roundabout way of belittling Élisabeth.  When Angèle receives rave reviews for her latest role, they celebrate and throw a party, where Angèle creates something of a scandal on the dance floor to Dirty Pretty Things - Truth Begins - YouTube (5:23), creating a sense of sexually uninhibited euphoria Dancing in Philippe Garrel's "A Burning Hot Summer" - YouTube (4:32), which ends badly with Frédéric, where things are never quite the same between the two of them, mired in the complacency of a personal malaise that may have political roots.  It should be stated that Maurice Garrel was a resistance fighter against the Nazi’s in the 40’s, while Philippe was a leftist student activist in Paris, May 1968, helping to organize the largest nationwide strike in history, involving 22% of the entire French population over the course of two weeks.  Louis, on the other hand, is the product of a French generation without a war or a cause to rally behind, becoming ambivalent about politics, emblematic of the nation’s complacency which led to the election of Nicolas Sarkozy, President of a right-wing party, soon to become the most divisive conservative politician in France.  During Angèle’s lifetime, Italy has been rocked by the self-serving antics of billionaire Silvio Berlusconi, the longest serving postwar Prime Minister of Italy, a term plagued by corruption and scandal and personal indiscretion.   

Louis Garrel is always the most indulgent and annoyingly self-centered person in the room, a guy that thinks only of himself, who couldn’t possibly take the time to understand others, as he’s completely enraptured with himself.  But in Monica Bellucci, she’s more indulgent than he is, as she has to be the center of attention where she can be adored all the time.  If people aren’t paying attention to her, she feels something’s wrong.  So of course, she runs off and has an affair with her next filmmaker, Roland (Vladislav Galard), falling madly in love, as he gives her all the attention she needs.  Both Frédéric and Angèle are pleasure gluttons, where they simply can’t get enough of themselves, making them rather empty headed and vapid characters, most of the time feeling superficial at best.  When things go wrong between them, as they inevitably do, they never talk to each other or try to work things out, as other than sex, they’re not used to communicating anything.  So long as the sex was great, everything else just fell into place, but when people started feeling left out or distant, they didn’t know how to reconnect.  Élisabeth doesn’t really understand what is happening between them, but she intrinsically takes the woman’s side, knowing this could one day be happening to her.  When Angèle runs off with the filmmaker, Frédéric falls apart, becoming an emotional wreck.   When Paul tries to console his friend, Élisabeth has had enough of being left out.  This film is defined by unlikable characters that don’t know how to talk to one another, that create distances and empty spaces, and then are surprised to feel alienated.  The quality of the filmmaking is excellent, told exclusively as a series of lived in fragments or vignettes, though strangely the narrator himself is rarely a featured character, where Willy Kurant’s cinematography remains intimately focused, and the music by John Cale has a way of accentuating something unexpressed.  Everything about the film works except the lead couple, where there’s no sizzle, and while the film may attempt to be more, as it’s largely a film about two male friends, it gets bogged down by the couple’s emotional limitations, as both of whom couldn’t be more full of themselves, making it hard for the audience to care about a loathsome pair who could care less about anybody else.  All the crocodile tears that Frédéric feels are just missed opportunities where no one’s paying any attention to him—could anything in life be worse?  There’s an interesting appearance at the end of the film from Maurice Garrel, the last role he appeared in before he died just months before the film’s release.