Category: reviews

here is saleh bakri once again in a film that sounds terrific – “the time that remains” directed by elia suleiman. i like what suleiman says about being surrounded by politics and using film to escape that oppressive influence.

check out press conference and interviews in cannes.

i like this.

many reviews describe “laila’s birthday” as funny and humorous. some go so far as to compare the film’s lead actor mohamed bakri to buster keaton. i got a different vibe from the film.

filmed in ramallah, in the west bank, “laila’a birthday” is subtle. it cannot help but deal with life in the occupied territories and the director is not shy about exploring its grim side, but he does so with a quiet elegance that sidesteps what could have been much more heavy-handed, graphic content. at the same time, the film is immensely skilful in conveying a sense of weariness and frustration that comes from lack of control over one’s life. abu laila is a judge yet he cannot find a job, so he drives his brother-in-law’s taxi. every morning he goes to the ministry of justice to plead his case but he is met with bureaucratic inefficiency and indifference. he is devoted to his daughter laila, who is turning ten. abu laila’s mission on her birthday is to buy a cake and present and be home on time.

as his day unfolds we drive through overcrowded streets (the west bank and gaza are some of the most densely populated areas in the world), we hear about a missile attack on a car which killed the man inside, we learn about people queuing up at checkpoints where abu laila refuses to drive his passengers because he is afraid for himself and for his taxi, we see people get in line wherever they see a line in hopes of getting some food, we hear the constant sound of helicopters hovering overheard and much more. but the film is not bitter or depressing. it keeps its focus on how life continues to function under these circumstances and pokes some fun at how people cope.

being a judge, abu laila is a firm believer in the rule of law. he is moral, upright, and yearns for order. his character’s struggles are effectively contrasted with a society so dominated by unpredictability, that the pursuit of law and order become meaningless. but as the ending of the film shows, sometimes randomness can lead to a happy resolution. directed by rashid masharawi.

p.s. discovered palestinian actor saleh bakri in this movie. he’s mohamed bakri’s son and has a tiny role in the film (a passenger who travels briefly in abu laila’s taxi). he is probably one of the most stunning actors i have ever seen and (based on what i read online) is considered a heartthrob in much of the middle east!

shot in southern kazakhstan, “tulpan” has the feel of a documentary. it proceeds at a languorous pace, exploring in great detail the life of nomadic sheepherders, etched against the vastness of the kazakh steppe. tulpan means tulip. it is the name of a young girl asa wants to marry. the marriage will enable him to move out and start his life – get his own sheep, his own yurt, his own piece of heaven. there is a lot charm and humor in the film. directed by sergey dvortsevoy.

just saw an extraordinary documentary at the high falls film festival: “youssou ndour: i bring what i love”. visually stunning, larger than life, like africa, and infused with the beauty of ndour’s voice and personality. a work of art. a labor of love. deeply moving. directed by elizabeth chai vasarhelyi.

revolutionary road: steep descent into hellish world of disjointed marriage, 9 to 5 corporate bondage, and anesthetic, skin-deep suburban life. kate winslet is radiant as usual. she is trapped, suffocating in her perfect family life. leo dicaprio is uneasy in role of superficial, lightweight, pedestrian husband, deeply confused and angered by wife’s unhappiness. his mind-numbing, inconsequential job and his wife’s baffling resentment create some empathy for his character but not for long. his ambivalence about the character he plays creates a level of discomfort in us, the audience. a lot of raw emotion. some particularly well-observed details, sharply filmed. as in “american beauty” sam mendes is interested in exploring the tragic results of disconnection.

benjamin button: one word – forrest gump. larger than life, magical realism. really long film with great special effects, costumes and female lead. unlikely personal saga and historical epic, all rolled in one.

two lovers: smaller film. fewer effects, fine ensemble acting. joaquin phoenix is charming and vulnerable (what’s all the hoopla about him leaving acting for good?) gwyneth paltrow a bit off doing a nasal impression (it seemed) of mira sorvino’s hilarious fruity accent in “mighty aphrodite”. vinessa shaw is the real revelation here and as it happens, also the center of the film. and isabella rossellini is good to have on screen – for any reason.

state of play: interesting premise (though by no means original). the kind of mystery/thriller hollywood is good at making. russell crowe is impeccable in role of savvy, committed, likable journalist who never got married and lives off of cheetos. ben affleck is ok as good-looking, conflicted senator (always found him to be a bit plastic anyway). other great actors in tiny roles – jeff daniels is amazing as smug, full-of-crap politician, jason bateman is delightfully hilarious as greasy, gigolo-esque PR man, and helen mirren is spot on (though typecast) as caustic editor with trenchant humor and appropriate british accent. the interplay between her and crowe is fun. the storyline is chock-full of cliches (politics, corruption, sex scandal, murder, adultery, friendship, betrayal – they got it all), the dialogue does not sparkle, most of the acting is topnotch, the film is not bad.

most people seated in the orchestra section of the eugene o’neill theater (april 4th, matinee performance) probably knew that i was a jane fonda fan. when i turned to my neighbor, a middle aged woman with forbiddingly short hair, and asked her if she liked fonda, she could only manage a tentative “yes”. but she added with a smile: “you clearly do”. “i’m not usually like this”, i said to my friend sarita, by way of explanation. and that is the whole truth. i have seen many remarkable actors on broadway deliver extraordinary performances, but jane fonda is different. i have admired her as an actor, an activist, a feminist, a fitness guru, a woman, for as long as i can remember. i was enthused.

happily, “33 variations” turned out to be more than a mere platform for jane fonda’s considerable talent. the play is a perfectly orchestrated production of multi-media art mixed with a clever, multi-layered script.

intertwined stories: beethoven becomes obsessed with an ordinary waltz written by his music publisher anton diabelli, and devotes much of his precious time to composing not one or two but 33 variations on its theme. dr katherine brandt (jane fonda) is an accomplished musicologist obsessed with beethoven’s variations. she also has lou gehrig’s disease and is struggling to complete her monogram while losing control over her body. her daughter clara is obsessed with her mother and wants desperately to connect to her. over the course of the play, she becomes involved in a relationship with mike, her mother’s nurse. it starts off awkwardly but develops into something meaningful.

multi-media theater: projections of beethoven’s sketches (drafts and elaborations) become a luminous backdrop. moveable screens fashioned from fluttering sheets of music are used to transform the stage – they are lit as if by countless candles, twirled to create dynamic transitions, images are projected onto them while they slide back and forth and we are treated to the creation of a fragmented, impressionistic painting.

imagine this: the stage is framed by shelves containing neatly ordered boxes of archives, all magically lit. beethoven stands center stage. his hair is disheveled. he is barefoot, in his nightgown. he looks pale, possessed. with a crooked hand he draws notes in the air. he composes fitfully, changing his mind, altering, deleting, commenting. and as he articulates music on stage we actually hear what he is creating. live piano music is an essential element of the play and we are offered the aural dimension of every visual, every spoken word.

the core of the play: brandt is fascinated by beethoven’s attention to a mediocre waltz. she goes through several hypotheses. he wanted to show us what he could do with a trivial composition, he is mocking it, being ironic. he wanted to elevate the ordinary and “transfigure” it into the sublime. did he just do it for money? did he want to one-up bach and his 32 goldberg variations? parallels between brandt and beethoven are apparent – their passion for their work, their tenacity in the face of debilitating illness, their dogged pursuit of perfection. they are alter egos. as she lies dying on her hospital bed, he appears to her. she jokes with him. she was hoping not to hallucinate – not fitting for a scholar. he shoots back: it could have been worse, what if it had been tchaikovsky?

but there are more subtle analogies. as brandt remains focused on the inferiority of diabelli’s work, she is incapable of fully understanding beethoven’s motives. in much the same way she thinks of her daughter as a second-rate waltz, an assumption that has doomed their relationship. as brandt begins to warm to her daughter (her deteriorating health has forced a level of proximity), her mind begins to open. she sees beethoven’s endeavor in a new light. all the pieces fall into place. beethoven is not mocking diabelli, he is slowing down time, he is exploring the potential that exists in every moment of the waltz. by claiming every fleeting moment, he is allowing us to savor it fully, slowly, bit by bit.

the parallel with life is crystal clear. every moment, every gesture, every happenstance is pregnant with significance, if we could only stop and partake of all its glory.

the play was written and directed by moises kaufman, set design by derek mclane, lighting by david lander, projection design by jeff sugg, and selections from beethoven’s diabelli variations were performed live by diane walsh.

doug rice, who was director of artwalk for 10 years, has now renovated an old church building on atlantic avenue and created the latest theater space in rochester. small and intimate, with excellent acoustics and ample lights, the space is ideal for both fringe and community theater. it still needs some work and the space’s success will dictate how that pans out.

i made it on the last day of the method machine’s “edge”, a play about sylvia plath’s last day on earth before she committed suicide, a confession of sorts which gives us an insight into the whys of her decision. the subject of the play is all the more tragic since plath’s son nicholas recently committed suicide himself.

plath was played by marcy savastano in this one woman show. although she has the acting chops to summon tough emotions on stage, i think that she was cheated by the material she was given. the play written by paul alexander is a relentless vilification of poet ted hughes, plath’s husband and her apparent, psychological murderer. not only was he a brooding, violent, cold, cruel, adulterous, egomaniac with mediocre talent, but apparently he also practiced witchcraft whereby he hypnotized plath to become his slave, he didn’t love or even care to touch his infant son because he viewed him as a rival, and after he decided to leave plath both he and his mistress called her at odd times begging her to kill herself and get it over with. there was also talk of incest with his evil witch mother, repressed homosexuality and sadistic sex. i can safely say that cannibalism was probably the only accusation not leveled at the man.

ted hughes might have had his weaknesses and they might have been manifold but to write a 2 hour play about them is just too easy and boring. the end result is that plath comes out as a petty, nagging, resentful house wife whose tirades against her parents but mostly against her husband become increasingly irksome.

of course i understand the idea of exploring her state of mind at this crucial juncture in her life and to look at her thoughts with unflinching honesty. but i have to believe that at a moment such as this, the last moment before life is purposefully snuffed out, there is also some quiet refection, some understanding of final truths. for someone as sensitive as plath and as gifted in the ways of human language i would expect even more brilliance. instead we are confronted with the stereotype of a “woman scorned”, in its most generic and pedestrian of manifestations.

the play’s direction was lacking in other ways. savastano assumed a rhythmic pattern of fast barrages of words followed by 3 or 4 emphatic statements. over time this pattern became too predictable and annoying. but then i have to ask myself: how many interesting and innovative ways can you find to bitch and moan about a guy for two hours!

il y a longtemps que je t’aime (i’ve loved you for so long)

a quiet, insightful performance by kristin scott thomas. not many actors can have the camera glued to them for the major duration of a film and come out unscathed. daniel day lewis did it in “there will be blood” and scott thomas does it in this film.

elsa zylberstein plays her sister lea in the film. she creates a nervous, touchingly vulnerable character – a lovely contrast to scott thomas’s emotionally shut down juliette. the first half of the film is quite flawless and flows with the perfect light and control of a vermeer. in fact the film derives many of its analogies from art. the second half seemed a bit contrived. juliette’s gradual resuscitation (after having been imprisoned for a horrible crime) seems a bit accelerated and the final resolution (when a much awaited secret is divulged) is simply weak.

the film’s use of music and its editing are quite modern and more reminiscent of american filmmaking (director todd field came to mind) than what we instinctively expect from french cinema. a refreshing change.

frost/nixon

probably one of ron howard’s best movies. the same actors who turned frost/nixon into a successful play on broadway, carry the ball in frost/nixon the movie. i was impressed by frank langella’s performance. nixon was odd-looking, awkward, larger than life. he is so easy to caricature. for example, anthony hopkins did an awful job of it in oliver stone’s movie. but langella doesn’t imitate the man. he inhabits him. his performance is masterful. not only does he capture some of nixon’s quirks but he also conveys his enormous intelligence and humor, his overblown ego, his wariness and ultimately his acceptance of defeat. he makes nixon human and elevates the film from historical cliché to fascinating character study.

two girlfriends and i went to buffalo yesterday to listen to joan copjec talk about “the imaginal world: islam, psychoanalysis, and the cinema of abbas kiaostami”, part of a lecture series at the albright knox art gallery.

we left a little early to check out the burchfield penney art center first. the art center is brand new, white, sparkling. i was not familiar with charles burchfield’s work but found his watercolors to be alive and imaginative. his paintings break from the stereotypical “flatness” one expects from watercolors by incorporating movement, texture and fancy into natural landscapes. some of this work goes so far as to possess van gogh-type agitation, rendered of course in a much more delicate medium.

although we didn’t have time to visit the albright knox gallery, whatever i saw of it was impressive. my eyes immediately latched on to a huge rauschenberg. there was miro’s “carnival of harlequin” which we admired for its dynamism and lovely inventive creatures scurrying all over the canvas, busy with trapeze and string. it reminds me of a flea circus. kline, hartley, modigliani, rosenquist, warhol, pollock, dekooning, lichtenstein, gauguin, cezanne, matisse, picasso – the gallery’s collection is like a who’s who of modern art, but in spite of all its temptations we proceeded to muse, to listen to joan copjec.

the lecture was dense and academic, much more focused on psychoanalysis than on kiarostami’s work. i was hoping for more film material followed by a contextualization of iranian cinema but this was not to be.

some of the points copjec made were interesting though. she talked about the islamic revolution in iran. the subsequent requirements of hijab became a deciding factor in how iranian films would be shot. iranian women do not wear the hijab at home but because this reality could not be captured on film, the focus shifted outdoors. we lost the “interiority” of people’s lives. i think of kiarostami’s “ten” in which the entire film is shot from a camera positioned on a woman’s dashboard, as she drives family, friends and strangers around the city. although the film delves into intensely personal, “interior” matters (divorce, a difficult relationship between mother and son, a lover’s rejection and the identity crisis it triggers, the musings of a prostitute) it does so by creating a relatively private space (the car) in an outdoor, public setting (the city).

copjec showed a scene from “wind in the willows”. a man from the city comes around to buy fresh milk from a young village girl. he enters a dark cavernous space. the girl begins to milk a cow in the dark, in order to fulfill his request. he recites love poetry as an act of seduction and we feel the girl’s discomfort. the entire scene is inappropriate. a timid, cowering village girl set against a much older, better educated city man who seems to be in control. the overture is unwelcome. it’s an act of harassment, of molestation. as copjec pointed out, cows are not kept in caves and milked in the dark (even in northern iran), so what is kiarostami up to? to me it is another example of the subtlety of iranian cinema. since they have to work within the confines of strict censorship, iranian filmmakers use oblique, highly inventive techniques to explore taboo subjects.

another cogent point in the lecture had to do with shame. copjec explained how after 9/11, neocons in search of the key to muslim psychology, adopted “the arab mind” by raphael patai as their bible. seymour hersh says as much in his article “the gray zone – how a secret pentagon program came to abu ghraib” (new yorker, may 24, 2004), where he talks about how two themes emerged in neocon discussions of arab behavior, informed by the patai book: “…one, that arabs only understand force and, two, that the biggest weakness of arabs is their great susceptibility to shame and humiliation”. this reading of arab behavior is manifest in subsequent policies governing the war on terror, abu ghraib being the most glaring example.

more about patai’s book and how it represents arabs in this boston globe article “misreading the arab mind” by emran qureshi, may 30, 2004.

never mind that the vast majority of muslims are non-arabs. only 20% of muslims live in arab countries. the largest chunk of the muslim population by far (about 30%) resides in the indian subcontinent. indonesia is the largest muslim country, by population, and is home to about 15.6% of the world’s total. even in the middle east, large muslim countries such as turkey and iran are non arab.

but going back to copjec’s point, in western minds “shame” (which was to become the tool of choice used to manipulate muslim psyche) is an inferior emotion. shame has to do with social sanction, with being under the gaze of others. it implies an externally-oriented standard of morality. more advanced western cultures are constructed around “guilt” which is part and parcel of an internal moral compass.

copjec disagrees with this theory. to her shame has more to do with the anxiety of being “modern”, of being cut off from the past, from what our ancestors did. instead we connect to a virtual, non-existent past – what our ancestors could have done but didn’t. in “wind in the willows” kiarostami explores this concept by the ubiquitous presence of a digger we cannot see. is he getting the ground ready for the installation of a cell phone tower or is he digging a grave? to copjec, the constantly shifting ground is a metaphor for the past itself being under construction.

apart from a few sparks of originality, copjec didn’t say anything profound or illuminating. she talked about iranian cinema much as an outsider. she attempted to explain the “exoticism” but was never fully capable of making a breakthrough and looking from the inside out – a much more rare and interesting perspective for most americans. being originally from pakistan, having lived right next door to iran and having been automatically immersed in persian language and culture (revered by the mughals of the subcontinent for hundreds of years), i see iran in a different light: not as an exotic, non-white world where the safe laws of the west collapse, but as an ancient culture replete with rich history and tradition, with refined ideas expressed in exquisite language, with a respect for the arts that transcends many art forms including cinema. there is also the gritty iran, the political iran, the nationalistic iran. but is that any different from other countries?

on the way back, we were rushed for time. i wanted to attend another lecture in rochester later that evening. about 10 minutes into our drive back home, however, we ran out of gas. no problem. we call AAA. the truck arrives in less than 30 minutes and the friendly driver fills up the gas tank. the car doesn’t start. maybe sludge got into the gas filter. so the car has to be towed all the way back to rochester and the three of us have to be smushed in the truck’s front cabin along with the driver. memorable drive home. blaring music by fleetwood mac…

saw the hottest play in london “entertaining mr sloane”. it was cool to see imelda staunton on stage – just loved her in vera drake. the acting was solid. the humor was dark and twisted with loads of sexual innuendo – very british i was told by my friend amra. it was a full house and the audience was supercharged!

this is a lovely song by eddie vedder from the film “into the wild”. directed with an artist’s eye by sean penn, the film has much lyricism. it’s the true story of christopher mccandless, a bright young man who decided to abandon all worldly possessions, hitchhike to alaska and live in the wild. a stunning decision.

i loved the use of christopher’s diaries to fill out the film’s narrative. however, the crosscuts with past family scenes and his sister’s commentary (which both strain to explain the whys of his journey) are disruptive. they break the film’s spell. emile hirsh is spectacular.