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Håndtering av udøde (2024)
Unique, but missing a key ingredient.
In an already tired genre, Handling the Undead aims for a more contemplative and somber face than what we're used to with said genre. The standouts here being the music and atmosphere, one must think such a devotion to visuals would garner strong staying power, yet such was not the case. It's grief observed, through the lens of dark corridors and isolated pastures, asking the singular question, "if you had one more chance to talk to your loved one, what would you say?". Throughout the runtime I discovered the film wasn't exactly interested in exploring this question through a vessel or character of sorts, as it's practically nonexistent. In the end I was left starved, yearning for a connection. A film with a pulse that slowly fades into obscurity.
Daughters (2024)
Prepare to cry
Beware of when watching, your tears will want to flow no matter how hard you try to fight. A touching debut documentary from Angela Patton and Natalie Rae, Daughters is a showcase of the surplus of emotions the Date With Dad program brings to these young girls' lives. At times the film feels like it battles its own structure, leaving a questionable trail of decisions that made me think it would diminish what came before, however, such was not the case. Small decisions like shooting the dance on film made the experience more tangible and effective, ensuring the heart of the documentary never withers away.
Soundtrack to a Coup d'Etat (2024)
Should be shown in schools
Whereas a documentary of this caliber on the direct-to-streaming aisle would incorporate your basic interviews and archival footage with little to no forethought, Soundtrack to a Coup d'État is a rallying cry within a musical odyssey. Hyperfast editing and a symphonic pace make this visual essay so special, resembling jazz's rigid but unforgettable structure. Vastly covering the Congo's struggle for independence (with jazz giants being the preface)- the inherent timeliness to today's genocidal crimes reflects a period not too astray from ours.
At times it may seem like the gargantuan presence of information overwhelms the viewer into submission, but rest assured the film continues its tapestry of bedazzlement all the way through. This is how historical documentaries should be made. Lessons will be learned, techniques will be seen. Enthralling from beginning to end, Soundtrack to a Coup d'État must not be missed. A charming, distinctive gateway for those yearning to learn more about deep-seated neocolonialism.
Ta'm e guilass (1997)
"A Mulberry saved my life"...
Within the humanistic elements of frames Kiarostami displays are the sculptures of searching for landscapes. The gorgeous mise en scène is engraved within the precise sculpting Kiarostami so elegantly designed to make you feel like the fading main character. The quiet sensibilities are a signature of Kiarostami's work, but yet in Taste of Cherry, they feel fresh and the most humanistic. Operating within the confines is of the individual perspective, rather than his more community-based reflections as seen in The Koker Trilogy, the roads to decision making are laid down in the cultural center of the main character's framework. However, it is this perfect framework that itself is mysterious and subtle, not entirely introducing us to the complete psyche and erosion this man has experienced. He hides the motive, but the eyes say it all. Much like the scenery around him, our main character longs for an escape from the man-made structures and burdens of the road, not visibly seeing the sweetness within everything. Kiarostami uniquely exercises the themes of suicide and longing into a didactic but private venture. I've never seen a subject like this so beautifully and patiently handled. Apart from addressing the diverse community within Iran, the film reflects the scene as reality in perspectives. Each passenger Mr. Badii picks up introduces expressions authored by not only Kiarostami himself but by a higher power within the landscapes itself. (Won't spoil anything, but the ending reinforces this idea of everything being authored to covey a sense of participation, something Kiarostami loves to do.)
Ever since my first watch back in August, I've been thinking about Taste Of Cherry nonstop. I won't get into it for the sake of spoilers, but a specific scene has stayed in my mind. The desperate and pitiful emotions that inherently surfaced from that first watch gave me a new perspective in the second watch. Rather than feeling pity for him, I felt only him. Looking outwards into old dusty buildings with the air seeming to calm me down and not suffocate my words, everything seemed right and natural. It's the little things this film does so well. From staying on a shot for just the right amount of time, to the immersion in the car, no film quite captures this indistinguishable tenderness that Kiarostami masterfully composes. There's not much more I can say that educated film scholars haven't already described, but I can only encourage to look further into the films of Kiarostami as pieces of himself.
A poetic beauty of a film, with immaculate technicalities and sensibilities. A masterpiece that rightfully deserves all praise. It's quite possibly a film I personally needed right now, making me feel less alone and more appreciative of the taste of cherries.
A Woman Under the Influence (1974)
the Cassavetes experience
Could it be the unsung tragedies and enclosed emotions within the confines of our main character's lives that so greatly had an effect on me? Or was it the eyes of Rowland's character, that of which told a significantly more intrusive and profound intensity every time she was onscreen?
The truth is, everything was in the right place, and at the right time. Cassavetes stops the clock and portrays familial relationships in the most didactic and painful reality we are afraid to face. No longer an idiosyncrasy, this style becomes the truth; more than the heightened reality. There's no sugarcoating the terrible circumstances many like Mabel have faced throughout time, and the fact is, those voices are unfortunately not heard at all. However, I think Cassavetes implies more than just feeling any sort of sympathy for our protagonist.
He doesn't take anything for granted. Cassavetes expresses the sides of people that are not as easily definable. This is an inherent quality to a director of his caliber, despite going beyond the norm (especially at the time).
What John does so well is not to focus on the validation accompanying the craft itself, but the merits of displaying love and people in the truest way possible. Making sure every account of mental slaughter is woefully and tastefully done, not to come across as pretentious or show-offy. Is it misery porn? Certainly not. John's target are the wars at home, the uncomfortable silences at family gatherings, and the unspoken draining that can occur. Everything is unmasked, and untamed. Alongside Rowlands and Falk, Cassavetes allows these people to breathe, and most importantly, to live.
There's unfortunately not enough I can say about Rowlands and Falk to do them justice, without parroting what has already been said for many years (which is also, the truth about this review). In their career-best performances, Rowlands and Falk carry no shortcomings. They are absolutely flawless and daring.
I like to touch on one last thing. The enchantment of the music well aligns with its themes of chaos and messiness. Bill Harwood's score is as easygoing as the film entices and misleads you (in the beginning anyway). And in the same vein as Kubrick's use of classical pieces in his works, the movements here are naturally escalated by not just the staging, but the undercurrent emotions embedded within the subtleties of the respected performances. Maybe I haven't seen enough movies, but Cassavetes absolutely destroyed the norm in portraying the human soul. There's no clemency, but rather the force of nature associated with said realities. The alienation, the discussions, the sorrow, and the frustration of home.
That is what Woman Under the Influence does so incredibly well. Cassavetes' masterwork.