Author: mara.ahmed

“the dark night” is really dark – and hectic and relentless. after 2 ½ hours of psycho violence and head-spinning action, i was ready for some kind of conclusion, even if evil was going to win the day.

yes, the cinematography and action scenes are top notch and choreographed with impossible precision. yes, heath ledger is truly terrifying as the joker – a great talent whose loss we still mourn. yes, nolan elevates the batman franchise from two-dimensional, comic book caricature to michael mann-like, meticulously crafted thriller. and of course, christian bale, michael caine, gary oldman, morgan freeman and aaron eckhart aren’t too shabby a cast. but there was something missing in the film. it doesn’t have a heart, a center – not even an evil, dark one.

since chaos is what we’re exploring through the twisted mind of the joker, that’s what the film ends up becoming: an endless, torturous, masochistic descent into bedlam, replete with visual disorientation and brusque, jarring sound. i can appreciate the metaphor and its artistic realization but i can’t pretend i enjoyed it.

recently saw “persepolis”, the animated film by marjane satrapi. the film is inspired by satrapi’s comic books persepolis 1 and 2 about her life in iran and europe, but the drawings have not been simply transferred to another medium. instead there is cinematic transformation. persepolis is strongly influenced by german expressionist films – the artwork is spare, elegant and luminous and the results are stunning. satrapi drew all of the hundred or so original characters herself. her involvement in every aspect of the film gives it coherence and intimacy – she lends it her personality. there is sharp analysis, easy humor and consistent heartbreak. there is also much nostalgia – most of the film takes the shape of a black and white flashback. we are drawn in, seduced by satrapi and her world.

but the most ground-breaking aspect of the film is how it refuses to locate the story of a young woman struggling with social upheaval and the private pains of growing up. by being animated it purges the plot line of cultural exoticism and makes the story universal. the fact that the entire film is in french is also crucial (although its import in terms of filmmaking was probably more practical than aesthetic). all iranians in the film (even those based in iran) speak flawless french. austrian or british characters are the ones with heavy accents. by taking culture out of the equation (no funny accents or weird clothes except for the pivotal issue of the scarf, no strange locations or foreign faces) satrapi is able to do away with all the historical baggage and instinctive judgements associated with “others”.

one thing is certain – marjane satrapi is immensely talented and she has a lot to say. check out this interview by michelle goldberg:

“sexual revolutionaries” – “persepolis” author marjane satrapi talks about why iranians don’t think sex is sinful, the hypocrisy of american saber-rattling over iran, and why george bush and the mullahs are the same.

my first time at the toronto film festival. movies are sold out. rush lines don’t sound too promising. tickets are $20 per film so i wanna watch something i’m at least curious about. it’s a day trip so 6 hours of driving. but i’ve postponed 3 appointments to be able to make it. my husband rescheduled his squash game (sacrilege) to pick up the kids. i have to go. and i can go with my friend liz. she owns a prius and goes to toronto all the time. she’s a pro. i make up my mind and do it. and i’m so glad i did. saw the 2 films i wanted to see, both in french. the first was shot in quebec and the second one in france – as different as night and day, but both quite wonderful…

maman est chez le coiffeur (mom is at the hairdresser’s) by lea pool

a beautifully shot film based in a small village in quebec. it’s 1966. summer vacations have just begun and three siblings alight from their school bus, ready to savor the sweet, lazy freedom of long summer days. their charming mother is obviously at the center of this carefree, easy world. elise is a precocious young teenager. coco, her younger brother, is obsessed with converting their lawnmower into a go-cart. benoit is the baby of the family – a child who lives on a slightly different plane and who worships his mother, his safety net, his life line to reality.

their father is a successful doctor who plays too much golf. we realize at once that his golf buddy is more than just a friend. and so does elise. the secret is soon revealed to their mother. she is crushed. she needs some breathing space. she leaves for london on a job assignment without so much as a proper goodbye. the last the children see of her, she is driving away maniacally with their father pinned to the hood of the car, hanging on by the windshield wipers, begging her to stay. it’s quick, brutal, unarticulated.

the children internalize the pain that comes from abandonment and express it in different ways. elise refuses to show her grief and reacts with anger towards her mother. yet we see small, intimate moments when she lets her guard down – she dons her mother’s gloves, smells her silk scarf. coco doesn’t say much and stays focused on his summer project. but we see him cry at night and that quiet heartbreak is unbearable to watch. benoit is the most affected. he is lost. he withdraws into his own world and as his father begins to think retardation and special schooling far away, benoit becomes increasingly unsettled and aggressive. only elise can be a mother-like, calming presence in his life.

elise is catapulted into adulthood. she begins to perceive another layer of truth – the less than perfect lives of people around her, their sadness, cruelty and desperation but also their strength and kindness. she experiences adolescence with all its inherent thrill and tenderness. there are kids’ pranks and smart-ass jokes, quirky characters and moments of unrestrained joy. yet a dull, nudging ache permeates the entire film – we know what the children have lost and we mourn with them.

lea pool, who is a well-known canadian filmmaker, explained in her intro to the film how she can connect to that sense of loss, having been sent to an orphanage by her mother at the age of three and kept there for many years before she was brought back home. a well-crafted film…

parc by arnaud des pallières

based on john cheever’s novel “bullet park”, the director chose to set this commentary on american life in france. the effect is quite interesting, more contrasty i thought, sharper than if he had shot the film in america.

the film begins with an ominous scene – an apparently disaffected youth walking slowly toward a house, armed with a golf club. inside the house – the glow of a television screen and a grating voice recounting the news about the riots in france. but the young man does not commit any violence. he enters the house, goes to his room and plops onto his bed. this is tony – son of george nail.

they live in a gated community and all the vestiges of a perfect american life are here: huge homes with even bigger pools, wide roads and even wider driveways, an abundance of impeccable grassy lawns, in-ground sprinklers and noisy lawnmowers. we get to experience george’s almost reverent use of his chain saw to cut down some trees – something that seems to make him feel in control and obviously content. but for tony things are not going well. he feels terribly sad. he cannot get out of bed. he doesn’t want his father’s success or its attendant vacuous excesses.

in the meantime, a new homeowner moves into this exclusive neighborhood, called the parc. the new character’s intro is cut with scenes from prison where he is being interrogated by the police. we know this man will commit some atrocity. we just don’t know when and how. we do get a clue though when george is invited to his neighbor’s house warming party. they introduce themselves:

“nail”, says george, “george nail”.
“hammer”, returns his friendly neighbor, “paul hammer”.

through twists and turns and numerous metaphorical allusions, nail and hammer come into closer contact. nail represents the well-heeled american male who made it – he loves to play golf and tennis and wonders what he would do without sports. hammer is the outsider, the misfit. rich and handsome, a “trophy neighbor” for exacting suburbia yet quite dangerously unhinged on the inside. he meets his mother. they speak in american accented english. his mother, played exquisitely by geraldine chaplin, says she hates france (france being a direct stand-in for the usa). she cannot abide the consummerism, the waste of resources, the excessive life style. something needs to be done. a man who exemplifies this repugnant lifestyle must be crucified – literally. on a church’s door. that will wake people up.

struggling through his own depression and darkness, paul hammer finally becomes convinced that he must carry out the plan. he decides to crucify tony nail. tony in the meantime is doing better with some help from a healer. he parks cars at the club and has become intelligible to his parents. paul hammers the kid over the head, takes him to the neighborhood church, and places him on the altar. he is about to set him on fire but then decides to have a smoke.

nail gets there and bangs at the door. he can’t get in. he goes home, gets his chain saw and cuts an opening into the door. his wife waits in the car. he goes in, finds his son on the altar, picks him up and goes out to the car. his wife waits for him with an embrella. she doesn’t forget to pick up his chain saw. they drive home. they get out of the car and tony walks out with their support. he is alive. they close the garage door. turn off the lights. lower the automatic window blinds. material things and their precise orchestration create a sense of sanity for these people, it becomes the underlying rhythm of their lives.

hammer lies in a fetal position at the foot of the altar, under a gigantic gold image of christ. in another cut from his future, he tells the police that he knows he will be crucified eventually. he just doesn’t know if he’ll be invited to a fashionable party before that.

throughout the film there is talk of storms, there are startling sounds, and much thunder and lightening. the director explained that whereas cheever had used the LA riots to evoke a comparable psychological storm, he decided to use the french riots to the same effect.

the constant repetitive sound of news, jarringly cut, and on a permanent loop is unnerving and brilliant. for people living in an artificial bubble the only connection to the real world is through the radio or tv. we never see much of what is on the tv screen but the nauseatingly repetive, bland sound of the news is omnipresent. it creates this malaise, a certain mal du present.

another scene that i, as an american, recognized at once is when tony is told by a teacher at school that he must give up football to focus on his studies. she adds rather cruelly that his coach thinks he has no talent and that he’s wasting his time. it’s a mean thing to do to a kid. tony tells her that he could kill her for what she said. in the next scene, a male teacher or principal is interrogating tony, insisting that he tried to commit violence. the woman is distraught, sobbing. on being asked if she would like to press charges, she nods yes and asks to be accompanied to her house that day.

des pallieres shoots his characters in uncomfortably tight close-ups. he decides to keep the details of their lives out of sight. for example, we see george having breakfast in such close proximity to the camera that the chewing of every bite becomes a small explosion. but we never get a peek at what he’s eating. again, in spite of the important role played by the news on tv, we never catch much of what’s on screen. i asked him if transplanting the film to france had added another layer to its meaning. he said absolutely not. the locale of the film was quite irrelevant. “there is no implication here that france is an american colony”, he added.