Thoughts on Gomorra (Gomorrah)

There are a number of films (The Godfather, Scarface, et al.) that seem to glamorize the criminal underworld. Gomorra is not one of those films. It is unflinchingly faithful to the sordid reality that ensnares the lives of so many people trapped in the web of the Camorra (an Italian crime syndicate originating in the region of Campania). The film, as noted, is based on a reality. Cinematic-wise, however, a film can deviate from reality. Realistic films still hold on to some veneer of style in order to interest us. The opposite is true for documentaries, were the cinematography tries to be as faithful to reality as possible. This film treads a fine line between the two. It's precisely this that repelled me when I was watching it. Allow me to explain why I go against most people in saying this is not a great film.


The movie focuses on five different stories, all of them tainted by the crime surrounding them. Don Ciro (Gianfelice Imparato), an accountant who distributes money to the families of imprisoned gang members, wants to escape his job and move to a safer location. Toto (Nicoló Manta), a grocery boy, wants in on the action. Pasquale (Salvatore Cantalupe) is an haute couture tailor looking to make an extra buck by training Chinese garment workers how to counterfeit the real deal. Marco (Marco Macor) and Ciro (Ciro Petrone) are two teenage wannabe gangsters that dream of the life shown in movies like The Godfather and (their favorite) Scarface. On the other side of the coin, Roberto (Carmine Paternoster) and his boss Franco (Toni Servillo) are illegally disposing of waste in unused quarries. The common denominator to all these stories is more than their involvement with the crime around them. It's that they're, all of them, victims in some way or another. Neither them nor the local ganglords we see are really enjoying the glitz and glamour crime promised. They're all victims, in one way or another, of an uncaring system.


The film is quite skillful in depicting the bleak reality of the crime-soaked lives it explores. It uses unadorned camerawork and photography, nearly documentary-level in style. Though, objectively, I can see the point to this, it just isn't my taste. Even in realistic films the world is heightened, even if it's just in the visual style of the film. You look out your window and the world doesn't look exactly like in the movies. The closest we come to that is a documentary. This film walks the line between the two approaches, but I would've much preferred it choose a side and stick with it. I realize the film's fiction is a lure to get the audience to pay attention to the reality it wants to shine a light on. In the end, though, I just feel duped. It was the ending notes that did it in for me. If the film was content with depicting reality as it is and nothing more, why would it try to push us in such a moralistic, after-school special way?


I like fantasy (think The Godfather) and history (think Excellent Cadavers) in different ways, which is not to say I prefer either one over the other. History (hopefully) offers us a way to overcome our mistakes, while fantasy offers us a welcome escape from these mistakes. I would've much rather the film choose a side in these polar opposites in the film spectrum, rather than sit in the middle. I understand the power of film as a tool to comment on the state of society, but I don't want that to be used as an excuse for a film being mediocre in other areas.

Le verdict: **

Thoughts on Kunsten at Graede i Kor (The Art of Crying)

I went to see this movie with no previously conceived opinion of it. I just knew it was danish and that it had won some awards at film festivals around Skandinavia. I wasn't expecting much but I wasn't groaning at the porspect to see it either, so you could say I was slightly optimistic. As the great Lorelai Gilmore would put it, "I guess this goes on the 'Boy-was-I-wrong' category. Right above gauchos, but just below the Flashdance phase." The movie's classified as a tragicomedy chuckful of dark humor. And while that same classification holds some truly good movies (Network, Dr. Strangelove, etc.), this movie should never hold a spot next to those genre masterpieces. The main problem The Art of Crying faces is its inability to settle on what it wants to say. One minute you're sniggering at then dramatic music (Not the ironic kind, either.) comes out of the speakers and you're left bewildered at what you're supposed to be feeling. There are many other films that manage to achieve a wonderful balance of sad and happy, tragic and funny parts. But The Art of Crying just doesn't pass muster in that area.


I'm not saying the film doesn't have some snicker-worthy moments, but they're few and far between. One must also bear in mind that those scarce moments are also dampened by the effect the more cringe-worthy scenes have on the viewer. I realize it's hard to put a fun spin on the subject of child abuse, but it could have still done a better job at it. And while the misplaced sweetness of a boy willing to go to any lengths to keep his manipulating, pseudosuicidal father happy sounds interesting on paper, here it plays out as something so wrong no child would ever do it without pausing to consider whether it's right or not. And don't even get me started on the father who is such a horrible character you can't ever relate to him or hope he sees the error of his ways. You just sit there hoping he'll finally make good on his threats and finally slash his wrists or something.


The one character you can truly understand and relate to, ironically, is Sanne. As the middle daughter and the source of consolation for his father, she's the most disturbed, stressed character in the whole movie. Despite all this, she's the only one that makes sense in the end. Anyone in her position would have gone mad (Her arents thinking she's amd to begin with sure doesn't help.)


Of course, despite the movie's flaws, the direction is pretty impressive for a debut. Peter Schonau Fog has a very distinctive style for a first timer. The beautiful countryside is given a very cold, gray look that fits the tone of the film and his use of shadows during the night scenes is actually very good as a contrast to the daytime gray brightness. All in all, much like The Good Night, this movie is an above-average visual experience but not much more. I recommend you seeing it and telling me whether it really is a matter of taste regarding dark humor or if I'm right at suspecting this movie has left critics so bewildered that they've been giving out positive reviews merely to avoid having nothing to say.

Le verdict: *

Thoughts on Todo Sobre Mi Madre (All About My Mother)

Despite a friend of mine's overwhelming recommendation that I watch Volver, I chose Todo Sobre Mi Madre as my first Almodóvar film. Of all places, I had first read about it in my french textbook. The title and poster intrigued me, so I researched it thoroughly without reading any plot details outside of the outline. It looked good enough to merit the expense, but I didn't get my expectations up to anything beyond that. I was pleasantly surprised, however. The film exhibits a great set design, a solid script and performances that in any other hands might have fallen into caricature territory but here are portrayed in a very human light.


The film puts its focus on Manuela (a brilliant Cecilia Roth), a single mother working as a nurse in Madrid. She oversees donor organ transplants and lives with her seventeen year old son, Esteban (Eloy Azorin). Esteban wants to become a writer and is fascinated by his mother's past. He wants to know who his father is, but Manuela will have none of it. For his birthday, Manuela takes him to see a production of A Streetcar Named Desire, a play she starred in when she was younger. Afterwards, Esteban requests an autograph from one of the stars of the play. The actress exits the theater and gets on a cab, ignoring Esteban's request for an autograph. As he chases after the cab, he doesn't notice a car coming from a side street and he gets run over. Manuela is overcome with grief at the loss of her son and is forced to look for the boy's father, who apparently knows not of the existence of his son.


Here is where the real character development begins. Manuela finds her old friend Agrado (Antonia San Juan), a transsexual prostitute who also knew Esteban's father (Apparently a transvestite named Lola). Agrado could have been made a mere caricature, and at times walks a very fine line close to exactly that. But it is through Antonia's portrayal that the character truly becomes likeable, dynamic, and human. In a particularly interesting scene, Agrado informs the audience of a play that the two lead actresses are incapacitated by reasons beyond their control and that the performance will have to be cancelled. She does, however, offer a different show to those that wish to stay. Agrado begins to tell them about her life, about what her different body modifications cost and about how the more you resemble how you dream yourself to be, the more authentic you are. It's a relatively simple scene, but Antonia's performance here makes all the difference.


The other two rounding this ensemble are Penelope Cruz and Marisa Paredes as Sister Rosa and Huma Rojo, respectively. Cruz gives a very nice performance as a confused character who faces circumstances in her life that she didn't expect. She also has to deal with a judgeamental, bigoted mother who is constantly nagging her on her choices, including her decision to work with prostitutes and drug addicts in a shelter. Rosa is never a saint nor a doe-in-the-headlights. She makes wrong choices and she faces lots of tough facts. All of this confuses and scares her but she never once looks like a damsel in distress. Cruz convincingly conveys her being scared, yet determined to survive it all.


Marisa Paredes's Huma is a woman who owns the stage and truly lives for her acting career. She does, however, have one major cause of angst in her life. That would be Nina, her stage partner and lover, who is a drug addict and has the tempestuous moods to prove it. Huma shows the dynamic of their relationship whenever someone tells her Nina is hurt or sick by showing concern typically displayed by a mother. She wants to protect Nina, and this vulnerability is what makes Huma dear to us.


On a final note, let me just tell you about the lighting and sets. The sets are all colorful and the warm lighting only helps to bring this to our attention even more. It's a nice contrast to the seriousness of the issues the characters deal with. It also lends, at times, a sort of seedy underton to the proceedings, nicely complimented by a soundtrack featuring spanish guitars and a very spanish noir-ish feel to the whole thing. All in all, a solid script paired with powerful performances and a great direction make this a thoroughly enjoyable film. I highly recommend it as your first Almodóvar film.

I give it: ***