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tommacy Blog

  • Review: Silent Light

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    Silent Light  (2007)

    I saw my first new release of 2009 today.  Originally released at Cannes in 2007, I have been hearing about “Silent Light” for almost two years before getting a chance to see it (and I live in New York.)  It’s always daunting going in to a film with so much acclaim.  I don’t mean “Slumdog Millionaire” acclaim, I can prepare myself for that.  I’m talking serious cinephile cred.  “Silent Light” was on both Manohla Dargis and A. O. Scott’s top 10 for 2008 (I don’t know how they fit it in that year if it came out in ‘07).  It also appeared on the top 10 of the renowned J. Hoberman from the Village Voice.  That is a must-see if I ever heard one.

    The past 2 Januarys have yielded the previous year’s Palme dO’r winner.  After the slew of quality films cramed at the end of the calender year to quality for the Oscars it serves as a nice palate cleanser before the doldrums of January (Film Forum repertory time!).  Both films, “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days” in ‘08 and “The Wind That Shakes the Barely” in ‘07 had the similar acclaim and anticipation (”4 Months” was on A. O.’s top 10 of ‘07) and both delivered in spades.  Check them out if you haven’t.

    So here was “Silent Light”, not a winner of the Palme (that honor went to “The Class” which will be released at the end of the month) but it was named as the “Jury Prize” winner (I don’t know what that specifically means but it’s Cannes so I’m sure it’s some form of illustrious.)  Having never seen a trailer or read a plot synopsis for “Silent Light” I was going in cold.  All I knew was what I recalled from a NY times podcast why back from Cannes in 2007 when Manohla and A.O. described the first shot of the film, a sunrise, as a breath of fresh air that gladly slowed the pace of the bustling festival.  So there’s a sunrise, that’s all I had.

    Well, it was some sunrise.  Holy crap.  The opening of this film is a genuine “wow” moment that will be hard to top this year on the basis of asthetic alone.  It’s good few minutes long, beginning with a black startlit sky and panning down on a faint horizon that appears at first to be a slight discoloration amongst the blackness.  That morphs to a discernable dark blue which then continues through an entire box of crayola crayon colors as the sky, trees, grass and enitre world are illuminated.  Nothing short of breathtaking.

    I should mention that this film is directed by Mexico’s Carlos Reygadas, only his 4th feature.  The slowing of time, forcing the viewer to focus on some of life’s everyday happenings is applied throughout.  The story centers around a farmer, Johan (Cornelio Wall), a devoted husband father to his wife and large family yet deeply in love with another woman whom, he says, even compared to his wife when they first met, would have been the better choice. Ouch.

    It takes about half and hour for even this much information to reach the viewer.  I could recount most of the plot for this 136 minute film in about 10 sentences.  But do not let that deter you.  The magic of Silent Light is it’s ability to make you lean in an appreciate not just the beauty of a landscape but also the beauty of a father shampooing his daughter’s hair.  Reygadas gives equal attention to all aspects of his world whether it is a father and son heart-to-heart or milking cows.  Every shot of this film could have 5 seconds chopped off it, every one!  You would not lose any information regarding the narrative.  But that extra hour, or whatever all those extra 5 seconds add up to, is where the meat is. The environment, and more importantly, the atmosphere is the driving force of this film.

    Played apparently by non-actors, the performances carry a stiffness that feels appropriate for characters who are not adept at expressing themselves.  I will admit though, their restrained communications coupled with the pacing was at times frustrating.  I’m not used to working this hard while watching a film.  I am used to being told what’s happening, not shown.  And on that coin I will say, this film will not be for everyone.  The previous “prize winner’s” I mentioned earlier are film’s of action.  The goals are clear, as are the motivations of the characters.  “Silent Light” is not a film of action, well, not a lot of action, it is a film of stoicism.

    That said, if you stick with it you will not be disappointed, as I was most certainly not.  An investment in “Silent Light” will be paid off in the end, and it ends, as spectacularly as it begins.


  • Review: The Reader

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    The Reader  (2008)

    The flaws in the reader are glaring.  A trial examines a character’s involment in the holocaust setting up themes of morality and shame that drive the second half of the film.  How do you come to terms with caring for someone who committed such atrocities?  How does a nation cope with the guilt?  Apparently by exchanging platitudes in a law school classroom debate (led by a competely wasted and bored Bruno Ganz) where the lead character decides to remain silent.   It’s regretable that these flaws serve as the downfall for this film rather than an extension of it’s mediocrity. They would be much easier to swallow that way.  Since the first half of The Reader centers around the most effective human romance story of the year (WallE was a robot).

    In 1958 Germany,  fifteen-year-old Michael Berg (a strong David Kross) meets Hana Schmitz (the impeccable Kate Winslet) a kind, stern woman of about 40.  A random act of kindness prompts Michael to nervously return to Hanna’s apartment where she catches him a sneaking a peek at her nylons (ah to be young) and it sends him running.  With no real intentions, or at least no concept how to act on them he returns a second time.  This strange courtship continues until she suddenly makes a pass so forward on paper it would read like a bad porn.  Preposterous, but executed with just the right balance of awkward, erotic and bizarre to make it believable, the lovers embody all the giggling and gasping excitement of a forbidden romance.  Some of the scenes are so explicitly intimate they induce guilty feelings of voyeurism.

    Other than the joys of the flesh the activity the two enjoy is literature.  Michael reads his prep school assignments (hence the title) to Hanna in a familiar but very effective montage featuring the luminous face of Winslet absorbing Micheal’s tales.  This serves as a their romantic throughline and is ultimately redeeming in the latter parts of the film.

    When summer ends and the relationship fizzles Michael finds himself in Law School.  The “progressive” environment of the 60s takes precedence over what is eating Micheal’s insides.  Sadly, that preference is never returned until we are barely interested anymore.

    While sitting in on a Nazi trial for class, Hanna reenters Micheal’s life.  It seems she was a guard at a Nazi camp and she and a number of her compatriots are finally getting justice.  This is where the aforementioned derailment takes place as Micheal is reduced to a slumping prop.  In the presence of a tour-de-force testimony (Winslet resists the usual territory for these types of scenes) without Micheal’s perspective the film turns it’s attentions to the holocaust and it’s affect on the characters and the country.  All this was already on the periphery, I don’t see what was gained by drowning out Michael’s voice.  The scenes border on didactic and are far too on the nose.

    The next time Micheal commits any actions of consequence he’s aged into Ralph Fiennes and Hanna is in prison.  With some gestures that could induce gags or sniffles depending on your mood (sniffles for me) the last act is simultaneously compelling and maddening as it turns into a piece about reflection and regret.  It is ironic that the first half of the film shot with shimmering nostalgia and swelling music seemed the most immediate.

    Finally, this is a frustrating film that will be categorized with some of the other handsome productions that fell short of their lofty expectations, including Ms. Winselt’s other endeavor “Revolutionary Road,” “Doubt,” and “Frost/Nixon.”

    I enjoyed all of these films and would happily revisit them all.  But I generally agree with the consensus that they where just a little too careful to have any lingering impact.  I give more credit to “The Reader” though.  It reaches at some more delicate, ambiguous areas, or I should say approaches them more delicately.  The rush of Michael and Hanna’s first encounter is one I’ll not soon forget.  Or maybe I’m just giving it a pass because I’m in love with Kate Winslet.


 

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