films – Page 7 – Ripple Effects

Interstellar and Ida: The Sound and Silence of Exploration

Two movies this year represent the opposite ends of a cinematic spectrum. One is on the cutting edge of technology in IMAX, with huge visual and sound effects, taking the audience far out into space. The other is a black-and-white film shot in boxy Academy ratio, a quiet focus on one individual.

Interestingly, both deal with the similar theme of exploration, albeit from contrasting perspectives. Interstellar leads us to outer space; Ida brings us inward to explore the inner space of the self.

This is not a full review of Interstellar but just some ripples from my viewing experience. Nevertheless, the following discussion may contain spoilers, so consider this a caution. I did write a review of Ida, you can read it here.

First it’s the buzz, then it’s a bang. Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar has landed with a weekend opening of $50 million in box office sales; interestingly, still second to Disney’s Big Hero 6‘s $56 million. Nolan is no stranger to mind-boggling productions, Memento (2000), The Prestige (2006), and Inception (2010); and then there are the legendary Batman/Dark Knight series, but Interstellar is his most grandiose… and loudest.

Some time in the future, we see Earth barely habitable. Gravitational abnormalities have offset the functioning of this meagre planet, which has deteriorated into an uninhabitable dust bowl. Space exploration is prohibited, for the mere survival on Earth has become the priority. The younger generation is encouraged to be farmers, growing corn mainly as it seems to be the hardiest of crops.

Even NASA has gone underground, yes, an alarming irony. Farmer Cooper (Matthew McConaughey), a former pilot and astronaut, stumbles upon it and is quickly persuaded by Professor Brand (Michael Caine) to come out again to pilot the space craft ‘Endurance’ to seek out new lands, for the sake of his children, as they could be the last generation on Earth. Further, Brand’s ambition echoes Cooper’s ideals that humans are explorers and pioneers, not caretakers of this dusty land.

To accompany the exploratory spirit, we hear the ear-piercing blastoff of ‘Endurance’ into space. I was in a ‘regular’ theatre, not IMAX, and not the UltraAVX (Audio Visual Experience), so it was bearable for me. For realistic depiction, I can totally understand why such volume is needed. But I did find there were moments where the sound had drowned out the dialogues at the most critical points.

Regardless of such mishaps, the music is commendable. Noland’s music collaborator in the past, film composer Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack exudes more than realism. His score involves an ensemble combining 34 strings, 24 woodwinds, 4 pianos, and a 60 voice choir. But the major, humungous sound comes from a 90 year-old pipe organ in London’s 12th Century Temple Church.

I’m glad the pipe organ is the instrument of choice and not, say, electronic heavy metal band with guitars and drums, because loudness is not a self-serving end. The huge, stunning sound of the pipe organ evokes sacred, cathedral music, and here, the cathedral of space. Into the vast and lofty universe, human exploration is more than mere colonization. Space travel is the vehicle by which infinitesimal human searches for the ultimate or to attempt comprehending minutely the grand design. The huge sound of the organ literally vibrated under my feet, aptly depicting our awe-inspiring universe. I must stress too that there were quieter moments as well, I especially enjoyed the flowing strings sending the spacecraft towards Saturn like a cosmic ballet.

In their collaboration process, Zimmer and Nolan may had been fascinated by the intricate machinery that is the construction of the organ, or the pipes that look like rocket burners, or its loudness best to depict the grandiose human venture of space exploration, or as Zimmer puts it, to “celebrate science”. But maybe unbeknownst to them, that deep human quest in search of the Infinite could well be the hidden inspiration that sparks the sounds in Interstellar, just like in the movie, unbeknownst to Murph (Mackenzie Foy/Jessica Chastain), Cooper’s scientifically-minded daughter, a well-intended ‘ghost’ tries to communicate with her by leaving hints in codes, guiding her onto a purposeful path.

Coincidentally (or not) the recent groundbreaking Rosetta’s Philae probe landing on Comet 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko has ignited jubilation not just because of man’s achievement, but also, as a news announcer said, the probe could bring answers to questions such as ‘how did we get here?’, ‘are we alone?’ or even solve the enigma of ‘life itself.’

Throughout the movie, we hear Cooper mention ‘They’ many times. ‘They’ have led him to discover the underground NASA site; ‘They’ had constructed the several dimensions, the time/space reality… His daughter Murph has asked him, “Who are ‘They’?” Cooper might have the inkling of who ‘They’ are at the end of the movie: ‘We brought ourselves here,’ he says. He might be the agent, but there still remains the question of the a priori Initiator: who had constructed the different dimensions to start with, the time/space continuum, the planets, the stars, galaxies, wormholes, or, gravity?

I feel the organ music is just right for the ultimate exploration.

In contrast to the sound of Interstellar, Ida is a film that offers silence.

Anna has been raised as an orphan in a Catholic convent in post-war Poland. At eighteen, on the verge of her vow to become a nun, Mother Superior tells Anna to seek out her only, closest relative, her Aunt Wanda. The film follows Anna’s trip to the city. In her uniting with her Aunt, she also discovers her past, and a totally different identity. Her parents were Jewish, killed in the Holocaust; her birth name is Ida Lebenstein.

With her Aunt Wanda, Ida goes on a road trip to seek out those who might know her family’s past. On the way, they pick up a hitchhiker, a jazz musician called Lis, who exposes Ida to a new tune, and a different set of pursuits. Her cynical, life weary Aunt also reveals to her what other lives are like. With the opening up of possibilities comes the burden of choice.

The film is shot in black and white, boxy Academy ratio like early films. It carries minimal sound, no score, sparse dialogues, but the images speak with deep poignancy. In the flow of human history, what is one individual anyway? But what responsibilities one has to bear for one’s decisions. What leads Aunt Wanda to jump out the window? Or Lis to go on travelling, playing the saxophone gig after gig? Ida or Anna, what does each name hold in terms of meaning and purpose?

Director Pawel Pawlikowski had done post-graduate work in philosophy and literature at Oxford. His background might have led him to explore with a contemplative mind. He must have known too that the self is a vast space for exploration, as unknown and inexplicable as outer space, yet no less a subject of intrigue.

And personal identity, another realm to decipher. Is identity determined by birth, race and ethnicity, or something else? Does one have a choice? How does one define oneself? Is there anything worthwhile to pursue that transcends traditions or even religion? Maybe the best way to explore that inner space is through silence and a meditative mind. You don’t want to let the irrelevant sound drown out the relevant. Truth may just be hidden in a still, small voice.

Awards Update:

Feb. 22, 2015: Ida wins Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, Interstellar wins Visual Effects Oscar.

Feb. 21, 2015: Ida wins Best Foreign Language Film at Indie Spirit Awards.

Jan. 15, 2015: 5 Oscar noms, Best Production Design, Best Original Score, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Visual Effects

Dec. 11: Hans Zimmer gets a Golden Globe nom for Best Original Score
Ida gets a Golden Globe nom for Best Foreign Language Film

Dec. 7: Ida wins Best Foreign Language Film and Agata Kulesza Best Supporting Actress at the L.A. Film Critics Awards

Dec. 1: Ida wins Best Foreign Language Film from the New York Film Critics Circle

Related Post on Ripple Effects:

Ida’s Choice: Thoughts on Pawlikowski’s Ida

The Tree of Life by Terrence Malik

Notes on the Synthesis of Films, Art… Life?

The Gone Girl Ripples: Binge-Watching Hitchcock

Caution: This post may contain SPOILERS, depending on how your imagination works.

“If you want to analyze everything in terms of plausibility then you end up doing a documentary.” – Alfred Hitchcock

Alfred Hitchcock is the best person to defend any outrageous act in a movie, and I’m thinking here about the one in the last section of Gone Girl, the altered scene that is different from Gillian Flynn’s book.

After watching the movie, something drove me back to Hitchcock. So in the past week, I’ve binge-watched all the Hitchcock thrillers that I could find, over half a dozen. Three of them I will discuss here, for they are like prototypes of Gone Girl. I’m sure both Flynn and Fincher have had the master’s influence silently creeping up their spine.

Surprisingly, the most obvious element common in these Hitchcock films is light-hearted humour, which I didn’t find in Gone Girl. Some dialogues are LOL funny. Crime and suspense can happen side by side with laughter; good and evil indwells at the same time. It is like Hitchcock is asking how can we separate these two sides of human nature?

And a common setting of these stories? Right within a marriage and the family.

Suspicion (1941)

This is the film that’s closest to Gone Girl‘s first part. Joan Fontaine won the Best Actress Oscar with her role as the naive but devoted Lina as she falls for the suave and charming Johnnie played by Cary Grant. They get married shortly after they meet. As the film progresses, Lina suspects her husband more and more. Hitchcock tells the story from Lina’s point of view, dropping clues so we are as suspicious as Lina. Despite his outward charm, Johnnie could just be a scoundrel after her rich father’s money.

With this suspicion in mind, a glass of milk can be seen as poison. Here is an unforgettable shot as we see Johnnie walks up the long flight of stairs holding the healthy drink on a platter, now perceived (by us, as directed by Hitchcock) as poison.

Without spilling any spoilers, I read that Hitchcock’s own preferred ending is different from what the audience see in the eventual cut released on screen. Who can mess with Cary Grant’s good guy image? Not even the master himself.

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Strangers On A Train (1951)

Two people unknown to each other meet on a train. One is a tennis star Guy Haines (Farley Granger) and the other a psychotic misanthrope Bruno Anthony (Robert Walker), who suggests they crisscross two murder schemes: he kills Guy’s wife so the tennis pro can marry his lover, and Guy kills Bruno’s father whom the son loathes. At his stop, Guy gets off the train taking the conversation with this stranger as a joke, and forgetting his initial-inscribed lighter on the compartment table.

So the one who takes this plan seriously goes ahead and follows through, while the other is drawn into a crime being the prime suspect. When Guy refuses to carry out his part, Bruno goes back to the crime scene so he can plant the lighter there to incriminate Guy. Here we can see Hitchcock’s signature style in extending his suspense in the most mundane act. As he is heading over there, Bruno drops Guy’s lighter through the grills of a street sewage hole. The camera closes up on a frantic hand stretching as far into the hole as possible to retrieve the lighter lodged in there. This is the kind of shots that could lodge in our memory even after we forget the whole storyline.

No matter how suspenseful and wicked the plot, Hitchcock’s movies are fun to watch. The key person to suspect something is wrong is usually a minor character, a younger sister with thick glasses, brainy, observant. We find her here as Guy’s lover Ann’s younger sister Barbara, played by the director’s own daughter Patricia Hitchcock.

The noir writer Raymond Chandler adapted Patricia Highsmith’s first novel of the same name. Those who think black-and-white movies dating back sixty years could not possibly be as entertaining as what we have today must see this one.

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Shadow of a Doubt (1943)

Still earlier, seventy years ago, the Pulitzer winning playwright and novelist Thornton Wilder was one of three co-writers of the screenplay based on a short work by Gordon McDonell, who won the Best Writing Oscar for his original story.

Again, the setting is quiet small town America, Santa Rosa, where nothing happens much. That’s the ironic setting at the beginning of the film when Young Charlie (Teresa Wright), the eldest girl in a ‘typical’ family, lying on her bed, lamenting the boredom of suburban living. She suddenly thinks of an idea that would make her day.

So Young Charlie springs up and heads to the telegram office to send a message to her favorite relative Uncle Charlie (her namesake, played by the ubiquitous Joseph Cotton), her mother’s younger brother, a charmer living in NYC, urging him to come visit them. While there, Mrs. Henderson hands her a telegram from her Uncle Charlie that says he’s coming to visit them in a couple of days.

Young Charlie is elated. Here’s the following conversation she has with Mrs. Henderson:

Young Charlie: Mrs. Henderson, do you believe in telepathy?

Mrs. Henderson: Well, I ought to. That’s my business.

Young Charlie: Oh, not telegraphy. mental telepathy. Like… well, suppose you have a thought, and suppose the thought’s about someone you’re in tune with. Then across miles, that person knows what you’re thinking and answers you. And it’s all mental.

Mrs. Henderson: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only send telegrams the normal way.

It’s this kind of unexpected pleasantries that make Hitchcock films so enjoyable, even in the midst of crime and suspense. As we would soon see, young Charlie has a crush on her Uncle Charlie. But that’s just the beginning of the film, and we soon find Uncle Charlie just may not be what he seems to be.

Young Charlie: … we’re not just an uncle and a niece. It’s something else. I know you. I know that you don’t tell people a lot of things. I don’t either. I have a feeling that inside you somewhere, there’s something nobody knows about.

Uncle Charlie: Something… nobody knows?

Young Charlie: Something secret and wonderful and… I’ll find it out.

Uncle Charlie: It’s not good to find out too much, Charlie.

Young Charlie: But we’re sort of like twins. Don’t you see?

These dialogues sum up the premise of the movie Gone Girl 70 years later. How much do we know about another person, even if that person is one of our family. How can one get inside the head of another and read the mind? There can be dark secrets within the mind that knowing them may endanger the one who discovers them.

The setting is similar too, a sleepy, innocent American small town and a newcomer from NYC. Good and evil are like twins, they lie obliviously beside each other.

Hitchcock is such a brilliant creator of suspense. Even just with young Charlie rushing through busy streets to get to the library before it closes at 9 pm keeps me on the edge of my seat, for I want to know if she makes it before it closes since she needs to find the missing newspaper page her Uncle Charlie is trying to throw away. What’s on there that he needs to hide it from her family?

Exactly, you have to run to the library to find yesterday’s paper to read on a piece of news story. That’s filmmaking dating back 70 years, but no less suspenseful and thrilling. Well, the library just closed as she gets there, but after knocking on the door, the librarian lets her in, scolds her a little then gives her three minutes to find what she needs.

As the camera zooms in, we finally see the news on the page: the nationwide search for the Merry Widow Murderer.

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Filmmaking techniques have advanced unimaginably since Hitchcock’s time, yet after changes and changes, we are more or less the same, and films remain one of the most agile means to expose and entertain all in one shot.

To Read my review of Gone Girl the movie, CLICK HERE.

Like Father, Like Son (2013): Parent and Child Reunion

I had wanted to see this Japanese film since it came out last year. Missed it at TIFF13 last September, its North American premiere after winning the Cannes Film Festival’s Jury Prize in May. Glad it has finally arrived on Netflix, reaching a much wider audience than just festival goers, deservedly.

Director Hirokazu Kore-eda wrote the screenplay based on a disturbing premise: what if after six years of raising your son, the hospital where he was born contacted you and told you that your child was switched at birth, and of course, they sent their apology.

The hospital officials do not take this lightly. DNA tests are done to confirm. They have a lawyer with them, arrange to have you meet the other parents, mediate and ease the proposed switch back, which they recommend with a six-month preparation period, preferably before the boys start grade one in school. They even find out who the nurse is that made the error; due to her own frustrations at the time she knowingly made the switch. Of course, she is deeply sorry for what she had done and duly prosecuted. Monetary compensations are arranged.

But all the above have absolutely nothing to do with easing the shock and alleviating the trauma afflicted upon the families. Formality and legality do not soothe the pain; apologies and money cannot compensate for the abrupt termination of relationships.

Director Kore-eda has treated the subject matter with much tenderness and charm. The cinematography is stylish, the children and adults are all captured in a realistic manner with splashes of endearing humour.

The two families come from very different social strata, and the two boys have been raised in opposite parenting styles. Interestingly, only one of the families seems to take this news much harder. Ryota Nonomiya (Masaharu Fukuyama) is a successful professional who spends most of his time in the glass towers of Tokyo busy at work. His son Keita (Keita Nonomiya), an only child, is raised in a protective environment. Mother Midori (Machiko Ono) is loving but also ambivalent about a husband who puts his career over his family.

The other family is a shop owner in a rural part of the country, their son Ryusei (Shôgen Hwang) is the eldest of three children. Father Yudai Saiki (Rirî Furankî) is every child’s dream. He spends his days playing with his children, fixes their toys, and exerts no rules, albeit Mom Yukari (Yoko Maki) might wish he could have spent more time working.

What makes a father? What makes a son? Fatherhood and bloodline tend to supersede all other factors in a patriarchal society like Japan. But the film reflects the point of view that not all families necessarily embrace such a value. Further, apparently there are different parenting styles even in a homogeneous Japanese society.

If there is ever a Japanese version of the movie Boyhood as we have seen here from Richard Linklater, Hirokazu Kore-eda would be the ideal person to direct it. Like Father Like Son follows his previous work I Wish (2011) in its sensitive and incisive depiction of a boy’s heart and yearning. He can tear apart the facade of societal formality–but in a most tender way–and lay bare the hopes and needs, the essence of parents child relationships.

I must give credits to Johann Sebastian Bach, and the late Canadian pianist Glenn Gould. The beginning of Bach’s Goldberg Variations has been used in numerous films, but every time the soulful slow moving piano melody comes out, I am moved, no matter how many times I’ve heard it, and in so many different genres of films. Just from memory, I can think of The English Patient (1996), Hannibal (2001), Shame (2011). It is so effective in augmenting cinematic moments without becoming clichéd.

Here, the Aria is well placed as director Kore-eda uses it as a motif to spur us into deeper thoughts. What makes a father, a son? What is more important, blood or relationships? What is the role of a wife and mother in a patriarchal society? What is the purpose of giving birth and bringing up a child? What is fulfilling and meaningful to us as human beings? Indeed, a motif that can strike a universal chord of resonance that transcends cultures.

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Conversation with Juliette Binoche

The highlight of my TIFF14 experience is attending the Mavericks Conversation with Juliette Binoche.

Director of TIFF Piers Handling structured the conversation in three sections preceded by showing excerpts of Binoche’s filmography in chronological order. Thanks to these visual gems, the audience got the sense of the actor’s wide repertoire. At fifty, Binoche has had more than thirty years of acting experience, and 50 feature films under her belt.

Juggling with my iPhone for photos, a pen and a small notebook, keeping my eyes on the maverick on stage, looking through photographers and audience sticking their hands out into the aisle and midair to take photos, I managed to jot down some sketchy notes.

Juliette Binoche knew she wanted to act at age 15 when her mother brought her to Paris to see a stage play. After she had made up her mind, “I was unstoppable.” She went to drama school in Paris, from the stage she soon landed film roles, and the rest is history.

Binoche had worked with numerous legendary directors who are cinematic icons themselves. Here are some samples:

The first director she worked with was Jean Luc Godard in Hail Mary (1985), later André Téchiné in Rendez-vous (1985), Krzysztof Kieslowski in Three Colours: Blue, White, Red (1993-94), Hou Hsiao-Hsien in Flight of the Red Balloon (2007), Abbas Kiarostami in Certified Copy (2010), Olivier Assayas in Summer Hours (2008), and now Clouds of Sils Maria at TIFF14, just to name a few.

But she has also said no to others. Stephen Spielberg came to her three times to no avail. “I don’t want to be in any system. Hollywood is a system. Not even in French system.”

Director she likes to work with: Michael Haneke (Amour, 2012; The White Ribbon, 2009) Binoche worked with him in Hidden (2005) and Code Unknown (2000).

North American audience might have known some of her more popular works like her Oscar winning The English Patient (1996), or Chocolat (2000), but I was gratified to see clips from her lesser known works like:

The Unbearable Likeness of Being (1988, adaptation of Milan Kundera’s novel, with Daniel Day-Lewis), or Three Colours: Blue (1993, Krzysztof Kieslowski directs, the first of the Trilogy)

But the stage is still very much on her mind. “I love the theatre.” She was in August Strindberg’s Mademoiselle Julie, Harold Pinter’s Betrayal, and soon a new production of Sophocles’s Antigone on the London stage.

Some more sketchy notes:

On long takes: “fantastic, close to life, liberation, freedom, trust, thrilling.”

On aging: “It’s truth”

On the relationship between the director, the actor, and the script:

“The actor and director are one in the film. Nothing about me. It’s the director bringing out [the script] through me. Words are written on the page then you live it, like an incarnation. You live it, bring the script to life.”

“Trust is what makes the miracle… trust between actor and director.”

On actors:

“We are incarnated philosophers.”

On genres:

“I never divide. You cannot divide things. The comic side of life and the tragic side come together… connected. I never divide into genres.”

When asked about “failure”:

“What does ‘failure’ mean? You learn about yourself through extremes, over obstacles. How you see success depends on your point of view. To me it’s a journey… taking risks, facing the unknown. That’s the joy of it.”

Of all the film clips, one struck deep in me with inexplicable resonance. And that’s from Binoche’s Oscar winning role as the WWII nurse Hana in The English Patient (1996). For me, that was one of the most memorable movie moments of all time.

Here’s that tender scene when Hana is led by candles on the path to Kip, who then takes her to the Medieval Chapel. He harnesses and raises her up to look at the frescoe paintings on the walls. Holding a flare for light, she dangles from the ceiling, immersed in pure delight. And the music, composer Gabriel Yared’s Bach-like melody has remained in my mind ever since:

On her role playing Hana:

“She has to start from scratch. I like people who have to start over again.”

On director Anthony Minghella: “friendly and loving.”

And Michael Ondaatje’s reaction to that mesmerizing cinematic moment: “I wish I had written this scene in my book.”

The conversations were just a little over an hour. The standing in line waiting for 90 minutes in front of CBC’s Glenn Gould Studio to get in (for a good seat to take my photos, but as you can see, still not close enough) was worth it. I likely won’t have another chance to see and hear Juliette Binoche in person again.

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Alex Colville and the Movies

“It’s the ordinary things that seem important to me.” — Alex Colville Whenever I go to Toronto, The Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) is always a must. As if to correspond with The Toronto International Film Festival, the current exhibition of more than 100 pieces of works by Canadian artist Alex Colville is a timely offering. Before my visit to AGO I’d looked up some info on Toronto born Alex Colville (1920-2013) who later moved to Nova Scotia and became an icon of Canadian art. His “Man on Verandah” (1953) set the record as the highest auctioned price recorded for a living Canadian artist in 2010. He was then 90 years old. The realism of Colville’s paintings at first reminded me of the American painter Edward Hopper. But a closer look at his meticulous renderings and precise details, I had the feeling that I was looking at a photograph, but the dramatic depictions made them look more like movie stills. As I walked through the exhibits, my inkling was confirmed. The quote on this banner may well set the tone as one enters the exhibition hall: As soon as I stepped into the gallery, I saw this familiar work but only then did I find out its title: “To Prince Edward Island” (1965):

Adjacent to the painting is a movie clip projected on the wall, showing Colville’s influence on the director Wes Anderson. Of course, that’s Suzy from Moonrise Kingdom (2012). The ever watchful female gaze through the binoculars. Both works exude mystery and nostalgia:

Apparently Colville’s influence can be found in several other filmmakers. In the exhibitions I was led to view samples of some close associations.

Artists influence each other. Colville’s “Target Pistol and Man” (1980) could be the inspiration for the Coen brother’s imagery of the psychotic and sinister character Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men (2007). But of course, one could argue that the movie was based on Cormac McCarthy’s book (2005). So it could be McCarthy being first spooked by Colville’s depiction of this cold, hard, and unpredictable character in the painting:

Further down the exhibits, I was confronted with a set of four Colville paintings in the scenes of Stanley Kubrick’s famous horror film The Shining (1980), adaptation of Stephen King’s novel. Too ‘in-your-face’? Some critics think so. No matter, I’m not posting them here to avoid sensationalism.

However, as I walked through the exhibits without any explicit prompting, I could indeed draw connections between some of them and the movies I’ve seen. Here are a few more examples:

Just when you think you’re going to have a good time taking the children on an outing, maybe a swim or a picnic, and then you see the rainstorm approaching.

Family and Rainstorm (1955):

Just like the ending scene of A Serious Man (2009) by the Coen brothers, impending storm in the school yard. The unpredictable and precariousness in everyday life.

Or, how about this, which movie does this painting “Seven Crows” (1980) lead you to think of:

Or this one, “Soldier and Girl at Station” (1953):

“Anxiety is the normality of our age,” Colville had said. I could totally feel it while looking at his works.

To correspond with my weekly photo meme, I’m linking this post to Saturday Snapshot Sept. 27 hosted by West Metro Mommy Reads. CLICK HERE to see what others have posted.

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Some related post on Ripple Effects:

Art Gallery of Ontario

AGO Exhibition: Terror and Beauty

Bernini’s Corpus and Mordern Movies

Edward Hopper, William Safire: The Visual and the Word

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Tuffing it out at TIFF14

Attending TIFF is always a memorable experience. The tough part, I’ve to admit, is the constant waiting in line to enter the theatre even when you have a ticket. It’s all for your advantage of course, with the general seating, the earlier in line the better seat you can find. Hundreds of ticket holders queuing up around the block is a typical TIFF sighting in downtown Toronto every September.

But waiting in line for over an hour to see a 70 minute film? That was for the screening of Jean-Luc Godard’s newest work Goodbye to Language 3D. Was it worth it? Let’s just say, it’s an existential experience. And we even had the privilege of sitting down, albeit in the rain, Waiting for Godard:

As expected, Godard himself didn’t show. But I got to experience his latest work wearing 3D glasses. Never imagined the legendary French New Wave auteur whose first works date back to the 1950’s, and who had made such iconic films like Breathless (1960) and Vivre Sa Vie (1962), now at 83, would be stirring up a newer wave of postmodern, visual fragments in 3D. The concept of ‘film’ just might need to be redefined with his Goodbye To Language 3D.

I’d seen twelve films over the ten-day film festival, purposely skipping those which I think would likely be released in our theatres in the next few months. So no, I didn’t watch the Grolsch People’s Choice Award Winner, The Imitation Game, starring Benedict Cumberbatch. All the buzz surrounding it points to the repeat of previous People’s Choice winners like 12 Years A Slave (2013), Silver Linings Playbook (2012), The King’s Speech (2010), Slumdog Millionaire (2008), with a trajectory towards the Oscars.

Nor have I seen other more popular productions like Black and White, Mr Turner, The Judge, The Theory of Everything, While We Were Young, Whiplash, Wild, Hector and the Pursuit of Happiness, which I just might have the chance for a free promo ticket coming up in our city soon.

The highlight for me has to be the Mavericks Conversation with Juliette Binoche. The 1.5 hour standing in line outside CBC’s Glenn Gould Studio was worth it. Juliette Binoche is one of my all time favourite actors. So this 90 mins. of conversations, retrospective film clips of her works, Q & A is one of the gem of TIFF14 for me. A more detailed post will come later.

In chronological order over ten days, here’s the annotated list of my viewing, for now. Detailed reviews might follow:

Clouds of Sils Maria — Clouds appear like a slithering snake at the top of the Swiss Alps. They silently creep in, wrap the mountains and disappear just as you begin to marvel. Apt metaphor for aging, fame, and the ephemeral. While Juliette Binoche always delivers, it’s Kristen Stewart that had my full attention and respect. Kudos to acclaimed French director Olivier Assayas.

Winter Sleep — Winner of this year’s Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, three hours of incisive and meditative exploration into the human soul. According to IMDb, Turkish director Nuri Bilge Ceylan has won 62 times. But this my first taste of his work and yes, that’s the kind of films I look for in a film festival.

Force Majeure — A loving married couple bringing their two young children on a ski vacation is confronted with a most unexpected and testing scenario. Should the husband’s spontaneous response to a near accident be the gauge of his love for and loyalty to his wife and family? A stylish and at times very funny, well crafted film.

High Society — Not all festival films are created equal. Here’s one that, alas, is a waste of my time standing in line and sitting through. The topic is interesting enough, albeit has been dealt with countless times: a love (or lust?) affair shattered by class and social differences. Well intentioned, but just another cliché riddled with flaws.

Still Alice — Julianne Moore is very effective in portraying a Columbia U. linguistic prof afflicted with early onset Alzeimer’s, adapted from the popular book by Lisa Genova. This might just be Moore’s chance for another Oscar nom. Can a film be too loyal to the book? Yes, I think it is here. While the movie is well executed, I think the director could have taken a little more liberty in using the medium for more cinematic moments.

Maps to the Stars — Nom for the Palme d’Or, and Julianne Moore winning Best Actress at Cannes this year, Canadian director David Cronenberg’s newest feature is a bold, dark, and wild satire of the celeb life of Hollywood’s rich and famous. Problem is, maybe it’s the public who’d like to see Hollywood glamourized. They want to follow the maps to the stars. So, would they want to see a film that shatter their fantasy? And, would Hollywood insiders like to be depicted as thus?

Goodbye to Language 3D — See my opening paragraphs

Seymour: An Introduction — Ethan Hawke’s documentary on the once prominent concert pianist turned inspiring piano prof at NYU. Quiet, gentle and full of wisdom, Seymour Bernstein imparts not only musical knowledge and skills to his students, but changing their perspectives on life as well. The film also explores the interface between talent and craft. A classical music lover’s film. Pure joy.

Miss Julie — Jessica Chastain is Miss Julie in this newest film adaptation of August Strindberg’s play. Screenplay written and directed by the legendary Bergman actress Liv Ullmann. Beautiful set design and cinematography. The opening leads me to reminiscence of Fanny and Alexander. Chastain offers an exquisite portrayal of the messed up and very lonely Miss Julie; Colin Farrell is surprisingly good, while Samantha Morton has a strong supportive role.

Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet — An international collaboration of animators crafted this beautifully rendered story embedding sayings from Kahlil Gibran’s classic The Prophet. Liam Neeson is the voice of the Poet. Beast of the Southern Wild‘s child star Quvenzhané Wallis is Almitra. The end credits lead me to a surprise finding: With thanks to the government of Alberta and B.C. Now I’m intrigued.

My Old Lady — Playwright Israel Horovitz wrote the screenplay from his stage play, came on stage to introduce the film. Mentioned Maggie Smith was willing to be part of it because she didn’t die at the end; Kevin Kline took up the role because “this could be my last chance to get the girl.” The girl? The ever beautiful Kristin Scott Thomas. A charming film.

Time Out of Mind — If there’s any major disappointment at TIFF for me it’s this one. If as some say, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is Ben Stiller’s vanity project, then Time Out Of Mind is Richard Gere’s. First off, spending some time on the street digging inside garbage bins, sleeping on park benches, or not shaving for a few days don’t make one a homeless man. A homeless man lives a homeless life, and that’s the essence of the being. A Hollywood celeb’s portrayal by Gere is putting on make-up to look like one, pretentious, exposing the inauthenticity. Even his gait gives him away. The camera work and sounds are showy and contrived; trying to be naturalistic, they present a flashy and artificial rendition. To capture a day in the life of the homeless, go do a documentary. Yes, I’m afraid I totally disagree with the critics on this one.

Boyhood (2014): The Moment Seizes Us

Boyhood is a groundbreaking film. It has taken director Richard Linklater twelve years to shoot, most uniquely, with the same cast. The actors had to commit to many annual shootings over this twelve-year period. This is not a documentary. Written by Linklater himself, the film follows a linear narrative storyline of a boy named Mason, played by Ellar Coltrane, who is very patient indeed; he had to wait twelve years to have his work put on screen.

We first see Mason in 2001 when he is just six years old starting grade one and 165 minutes later, we see him at eighteen, entering college. He literally grows up in front of our eyes. You may shrug with a casual, ‘Ok… so what?’

Here are the implications of what this all means in the hands of a director with the gift of depicting perceptively the essence of human relationships, most notably, from his trilogy Before Sunrise (1995), Before Sunset (2004), Before Midnight (2013). The passage of time is prominent in his trilogy with the films screened nine years apart. In there, we follow the chance meeting of actors Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy on a train to their married life eighteen years later. While time is also of the essence here (just a pun, no hurry), Boyhood has a distinct difference.

Like time-lapse photography of a seedling to fruition we used to watch in biology class, Boyhood captures the life of Mason in one seamless unity. The editing is fluid and smooth. We see the passage of time from the games he plays (from Game Boy to Xbox to Wii), the social and political changes, the ephemeral shifting of pop culture, especially music (from Coldplay to Arcade Fire and those in between), and the evolving of technology. Most important of all, we see the human factor tossed and carried along in the current of time.

Linklater leads us to see Mason in the context of his family life, or whatever that defines it. What I see is not a happy boyhood. At the beginning of the film, Mason and his two-year-older sister Samantha (Lorelei Linklater) have to leave their friends and move from small town Texas to Houston, where their determined single-parent mom (Patricia Arquette) can attend college to improve her job prospect. During this time, their divorced and absent dad (Ethan Hawke) suddenly reappears back into their lives.

Dad brings joy to the children. He is full of life and cares about them, at least while it is his turn to take them out. This may be ordinary in America nowadays, divorced parenthood, but I see the yearning in the hearts of the children on screen for a happy, reconciled family. There is deeper pain than just the loneliness we see on the surface of Mason and Samantha.

The brilliance of the director is in the captivating telling of what seems to be an ordinary, typical childhood. In a realistic style as if allowing me the viewer to be an invisible observer, Linklater makes me care for every member of this family.

But the character I find most admirable is mom Olivia. She does her best to improve her lot for the sake of her children. Her decisions may not be welcomed by them, and she makes mistakes, but she sticks to her guns with what she thinks is right and presses on. Ultimately she reaches her goal in getting a college teaching post. Arquette’s performance is understated and affective. My prediction is a possible acting nomination(s) for her come Awards Season.

We soon see Olivia remarry, this time to her psychology professor Bill (Marco Perella). It turns out to be a mistake. Bill later reveals himself to be a controlling alcoholic, abusive to his wife and kids. While Mason and Samantha gain a pair of step brother and sister of their own age, they now live under the roof of a harsh disciplinarian stepfather.

A poignant scene which I will not easily forget is after an abusive episode, Olivia disappears. Unable to find his wife, a fuming Bill has all four children sit on the sofa for interrogation, and gets each of them to hand him his/her cell phone. He checks the messages and usage history to see if any of them has communicated with their mother.

Mason has questioned his mom, “Why do you marry him? He’s a jerk.” Olivia answers, “So you can have a family.” Without missing a beat, he says, “we already have one.” Linklater has me at the edge of the seat, amazing with a film like this, to see how mom Olivia gets herself and her own kids out of such a dire situation under Bill’s roof.

In contrast, it is a joy to see the children with their birth father. And most importably, we see the bond of genuine love between the parents and their children despite the divorce. It is gratifying to see that, through the years, the adults grow up as well.

As time passes, we see Mason emerges to be an artistic youth, with a passion for photography. And yet, like his dad, he disregards rules and structures. We see him continue to seek out what it is that makes life meaningful. And yet, the adults in his life seem to be as confused as he is. Mason sees them make bad choices, struggles with his own, and questions ‘so what’s the point?’ Olivia too, after all that life hands her, and ultimately seeing her kids graduate from high school and herself achieving respectability with her college teaching career, utters “I just thought there will be more.”

Eventually, we see Mason at eighteen. The film ends with his first day of settling in a college dorm. He quickly makes friend with his roommate and his girlfriend and her roommate. They skip the orientation and go hiking. On the mountainous path, they sit down and talk, young people facing a brand new chapter in their lives. Like the vast mountain ranges, their future lays out in front of them, appealing and yet full of challenges and mystery. We see too that Mason has found a new soulmate as the girl shares with him, “You know how everyone’s always saying seize the moment? I don’t know, I’m kind of thinking it’s the other way around, you know, like the moment seizes us.”

As the film fades to black, I breathe out a sigh of relief. At least, there’s no irreparable disaster. No matter what has happened in the past twelve years, the present is most livable, and the future is hopeful.

~ ~ ~ ~ Ripples

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Awards Update:

Feb. 22, 2015: Patricia Arquette wins Oscar for Best Supporting Actress.

Feb. 21, 2015: Patricia Arquette wins Best Supporting Actress at Indie Spirit Awards, Richard Linklater wins Best Director.

Feb. 8, 2015: 3 BAFTAs Wins, Best Film, Best Director, Best Supporting Actress

Jan. 15, 2015: 6 Oscar noms, Best Picture, Best Director, Actor, Actress, Original Screenplay, Editing.

Jan. 11, 2015: 3 Golden Globe wins, Best Picture Drama, Best Director, and Best Supporting Actress.

Dec. 11: 5 Golden Globes noms: Best Picture – Drama, Richard Linklater for Best Director and Best Screenplay, Patricia Arquette and Ethan Hawke for Best Supporting Actress and Actor.

Dec. 10: 3 SAG Noms: Best Performance by a Cast in a Motion Picture, Best Male Supporting Actor, Best Female Supporting Actor

Dec.7: Boyhood wins Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress, and Best Editing in the L.A. Film Critics Awards

Dec. 7: Boyhood wins Best International Independent Film Award at BIFA (UK)

Dec.1: Boyhood wins Best Picture, Richard Linklater Best Director, Patricia Arquette Best Supporting Actress from the New York Film Critics Circle

Dec.1: Boyhood wins Audience Award at Gotham Awards 2014

Other Related Posts:

Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, Before Midnight

The Tree Of Life

Magic In The Moonlight (2014) Enchants Despite Flaws

Let me guess. To see or not to see, that is the question on your mind. No? You’ve decided to skip it, heeding critics’ view that it is a ‘minor’ Woody Allen?

Well, here’s my take. To begin with, a director’s repertoire has to be large and significant enough to be categorized into ‘major’ and ‘minor’. I’ve enjoyed Allen’s previous ‘minor’ works like Match Point (2005), Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989), or his noir dealing with magic and the circus Shadows and Fog (1991). Or, is that a ‘major’?

For some reasons, even a ‘minor’ Allen work piques my interest. Further, a new Woody Allen movie is like the perennials shooting up in the summer garden. Going to see one has been on my summer to-do list in recent years.

This 47th directorial feature of Allen’s uses magic as the storyline, a reprise of his well-known preoccupation. Instead of casting himself as a magician like he did in Scoop (2006), Allen has Colin Firth play the role of the renowned Wei Ling-soo, master of illusions who specializes in disappearing and reappearing acts shrouded in oriental mystique. Just a reflection of the time, 1928 Berlin.

After a successful show, Stanley Crawford, Wei Ling-soo’s real-life persona, is recruited by his childhood friend and fellow magician Howard Burkan (Simon McBurney) to go with him to the Côte d’Azur in France to debunk a fake clairvoyant, played by Emma Stone.

Stanley is pleased to take up the challenge, for in his rational mind, the spirit world does not exist. He will be doing everyone a favour to expose the trickery of this young, self-proclaimed spiritualist Sophie Baker, whom he firmly believes to be a crook. Stanley tells Howard, ‘she can’t fool me’. In his mind, Sophie and her mother (Marcia Gay Harden) are out to hoodwink the heir of a rich family, Brice (Hamish Linklater) and his mother Grace (Jacki Weaver), a fraudulent scheme that must be thwarted.

You might have read about the mismatch of Firth and Stone starring together. If there is anything that seems incompatible, it is Stone playing a medium with the expertise of contacting the dead in a séance. No matter, Stone’s appearance can only substantiate the magic.

Sure enough, the ‘minor’ notion applies with the film’s simple, stretched-out, single plot line. A subplot could add more texture to the film, and giving some talented actors more story and character development. Further, there are moments and dialogues that look tedious and unnecessary. Thanks to the cast of fine actors, we can see their concerted effort in making the film more interesting than the simple plot can offer.

And there are scenes we have seen before. The Gatsby-esque ball, the observatory moment as in Manhattan (1979), as well as reminiscence of other sources. But then again, are fairy tales not meant to be retold?

You might want to add in one more familiarity. France. This is the second time in four years Allen makes a movie in France. Following the successful Midnight In Paris (2011), cinematographer Darius Khondji reframes the country with idyllic French Riviera through a golden filter. I would not argue against that ‘repeat’.

And the music, how often we hear them in movies depicting the 1920’s, in particular, Allen’s own. From Cole Porter’s “You Do Something To Me” (opening credits, sets the mood right away) to Harry Carroll and Joseph McCarthy’s “I’m Always Chasing Rainbow” (Brice serenading Sophie), from Beethoven to Ravel, music only adds in the magic.

Stanley takes Sophie along for a ride to Provence to visit his Aunt Vanessa (Eileen Atkins). The veteran, low-keyed but always reliable Atkins as the wise and knowing Aunt Vanessa plays a pivotal role in the story. While Sophie has the chance to demonstrate her extraordinary gift by revealing Aunt Vanessa’s past, Aunt Vanessa has also shown that she knows her nephew Stanley much more than he knows himself.

And (possible) spoilers coming up...

One of my favourite scenes is in the third act, when the seemingly oblivious Aunt Vanessa while playing a card game of solitaire is subtly prodding her nephew to clearer self-understanding, to act upon his heart rather than relying only on his rationale. This one reminds me of a nuanced and endearing scene in another movie, exactly with these two actors, Atkins and Firth, playing mother and son and engaging in a similar kind of dialogue. Yes, the two of them are charming together in both. That movie? What A Girl Wants (2003).

But what’s interesting is Colin Firth here shines as a chatty Darcy. He plays the role with such an amusing familiarity as if he has just changed costume from an Austen set to the 1920’s. Stanley feels superior, thinks Sophie beneath him. He is arrogant and smug at the start, challenging and badgering Sophie at every turn, full of pride and prejudice. Why of course, Sophie, from small town America, has not heard of Nietzsche, or Bora Bora, can’t tell Dickens from Shakespeare. A ready target for Stanley’s jest.

And Stanley is such an expert in alienating people. Sophie’s mom Mrs. Baker could not have agreed more with Lizzy’s mom Mrs. Bennet, this guy is an obnoxious snob. From Darcy to Stanley, two sides of the same coin. Firth knows how to play this one by heart.

Quite like Darcy, Stanley is such a poor (first-time) marriage proposer. Take her under his wings? No rational reason for doing this? Against his better judgement? Haven’t we heard such a marriage proposal before when Darcy first messed up his in front of an incredulous and fuming Lizzy Bennet?

Not to aspire to his ‘major’ endeavours, Magic in the Moonlight is a lighter piece in Allen’s humungous directorial repertoire. He deals with it like bringing work on his vacation, emphasis on the vacation. Don’t we all need a break every now and then? And isn’t the French Riviera an ideal spot?

~ ~ ~ Ripples

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I’m linking this review to Paulita’s Dreaming of France Monday Meme. CLICK HERE to see what others have posted.

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Related Posts on Ripple Effects:

Midnight In Paris (2011)

Blue Jasmine (2013)

To Rome With Love (2012)

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Books Into Movies at Upcoming Film Festivals

One consolation of seeing leaves turn yellow (yes, I’m seeing it already) is the kick-off of fall Film Festivals. This year at TIFF and NYFF, there are several movie adaptations of books and stage plays. The following are some titles announced so far. (Images below are book covers. For film images click on links.)

Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF Sept. 4 – 14)

Hector And the Search for Happiness by François Lelord

I don’t like to compare, but for this one, the film version may just be better than the book which I found disappointing considering the appealing title. With a globe-trotting storyline, what better way to experience it than to see the sights and hear the sounds on the big screen. But of course, how it’s adapted is crucial. Considering the cast, I hope the film can bring at least a couple hours of happiness: Simon Pegg, Rosamund Pike, Toni Collette, Stellan Skarsgård, Christopher Plummer.

The Humbling by Philip Roth

In this adaptation of Roth’s 30th book (published 2009), Al Pacino plays the older man attempting to experience a total rejuvenation via an affair with a much younger woman, played by Greta Gerwig. Directed by Barry Levinson (Oscar Best Director for Rain Man, 1988). I’d read several of Roth’s previous books and learned not to be shocked by what he described. However, would I be interested to explore what’s in store in The Humbling? TIFF has about 300 films screening, I think I’ll let the diehard Roth or Pacino fans rush in for this one, albeit I’m quite fond of Greta Gerwig. BTW, a film adaptation of his Pulitzer Prize (1998) winning American Pastoral had been announced.

Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet

If Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past can be turned into graphic novels, Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet can be visualized in an animated film. Animations are not my usual movie choice in recent years but this time at TIFF I’d like to catch this one. The adaptation is a collaboration of international animation artists, voiced by Beasts of the Southern Wild‘s child star Quvenzhané Wallis, with Liam Neeson voicing the poet. Directed by Roger Allers, who is the writer and/or director of some memorable Disney collection such as The Little Matchgirl (2006), The Lion King (1994), Aladdin (1992), Beauty and the Beast (1991).

Miss Julie (Play) by August Strindberg

Newest film version of the 1888 play by Swedish playwright August Strindberg. Adapted and directed by Liv Ullmann, the famous Ingmar Bergman actress; maybe relevant here is her role in Persona (1966). Apparently, or maybe not so, Strindberg was exploring the psychological make-up of ‘womanhood’ and the complex interplay of nature, nurture, and circumstance. I finished reading the play with an apprehensive sigh… will this be a good role for Jessica Chastain? This is not a sympathetic character, Miss Julie, a confused, flirtatious mistress seducing her valet. A film that would rest mainly on character and acting. So maybe Chastain is a good choice. The valet? Colin Farrell, not too sure about that one. Samantha Morton’s the cook, thus forms the triangle of power play.

My Old Lady (Play) by Israel Horowitz

American playwright Israel Horowitz adapted his own 1996 stage play onto screen and directed it, with three prominent actors performing. This one is on my must-see list at TIFF. An American inherited from his late father a Paris apartment which to his surprise, is occupied by an old lady who, according to the legal arrangement, has the right to live there till she dies. Her daughter forms the invincible alliance. This entangled threesome: Two-time Oscar winner Maggie Smith (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, California Suite), who will turn 80 later this year, her equally formidable daughter, Kristin Scott Thomas (Oscar nom for The English Patient), and the unlucky (or maybe not) American, Kevin Kline (Oscar winner for A Fish Called Wanda). Whether a stage play or film, these three would make a dream cast.

Still Alice by Lisa Genova

Julianne Moore plays an accomplished academic, Columbia (Harvard in book) University professor battling early onset Alzheimer’s disease, based on the novel by neuroscientist turned writer Lisa Genova. Genova first self-published her book, later Simon and Schuster picked it up and the rest is history. It’s now selling in 30 countries and translated into more than 20 languages. Genova, a Ph.D in neuroscience, gives much credibility to her book. How will the film pan out? Julianne Moore would be one who can deliver a nuanced performance. Cast includes Kristen Stewart and Alec Baldwin.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed

On the heels of his Oscar nominated Dallas Buyers Club last year, Canadian director Jean-Marc Vallée brings out a totally different kind of production. Wild is based on the NYT #1 Bestseller memoir by Cheryl Strayed. Screenplay by the reliable Nick Hornby (Oscar Best Adapted Screenplay nom for An Education, 2009). Following the death of her mother, Strayed, then 26, divorced, devastated, drugged, went on a long-distance hike, 1,100 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail through California and Oregon. ‘Wild’ has a double inference here: the nature trail and the character walking on it. The journey could well be redemptive and perilous at the same time. The books in Strayed’s backpack included Faulkner and Flannery O’Connor. Reese Witherspoon and Gaby Hoffmann star.

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NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL (NYFF Sept. 26 – Oct. 2)

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
To open NYFF is the premiere of this highly anticipated film adaptation of Gillian Flynn’s popular suspense novel. Two-time Oscar Best Director nominee David Fincher (The Social Network, 2010; The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, 2009) helms. Yes, the buzz is also due to Ben Affleck (Oscar winner, Argo, 2012) playing the husband who finds his wife missing one day and thus begins the extraordinary sequence of events down the rabbit hole. Rosamund Pike plays the mysteriously gone girl. Yes, I’ve read the book. And just because of that, knowing the twists and ending, will I still be interested in watching this ‘suspense thriller’?

Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon
Five-time Academy Award nominee, writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson’s works include The Master (2012) and There Will Be Blood (2007) for which Daniel Day-Lewis won one of his three Best Actor Oscars. But the film I like best is his Punch-Drunk Love (2002). Author Pynchon’s most famous book probably is Gravity’s Rainbow, which I’ve only heard of but not read. Actually, I haven’t read any of Pynchon’s noir detective novels. Pot seems to be the motif. Anderson directs Joaquin Phoenix again after The Master, cast includes Reese Witherspoon, Josh Brolin, Owen Wilson, Jena Malone.

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The Lunchbox (2013): A Meal that Binds

The Lunchbox premiered at Cannes last year. Since then, it had appeared in many other international film festivals, nabbing nominations and wins. I missed it at TIFF last September, so am glad I’ve the chance to watch it in the theatre recently. Here’s my review published in the May 18 issue of Asian American Press, a weekly newspaper based in Minneapolis, MN. That’s right, folks, it’s globalization.

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The lunchbox, dabba, is a stackable unit of four or five round metal cans fastened by straps on the side that flip up to attach to a handle on top. Every day in Mumbai, India, five thousand dabbawallahs, or lunchbox deliverymen, would fetch the dabbas from homes after housewives have filled them with hot food and deliver the tiffin to their husbands in their offices. After lunch, they would return the empty dabbas back to each home.

In Mumbai alone, there are five thousands dabbawallahs, many of them illiterate. For one hundred and twenty years, they carry dozens of dabbas on their bicycles, negotiate the mass of humanity and impossible street traffic and railways to bring office workers a hot meal from home, or from dabba preparation outlets. Harvard University had studied their inexplicable coding and delivery system. Their finding: only one in a million of these dabbas would ever get lost.

If you think the title is too mundane for a movie, then just focus on that one-in-a million lost lunchbox. It is picked up from a young housewife, Ila (Nimrat Kaur), and delivered to the wrong recipient, Saajan Fernandes (Irrfan Khan, Life of Pi, 2012), a retiring office worker who has been on the job for thirty-five years. Thus begins the exchange of short notes then letters placed inside these tiffin cans, two strangers who are socially worlds apart, but joined together by a savory meal.

The veteran actor Irrfan Khan won Best Actor at the 8^th Asian Film Awards in March this year for his role in The Lunchbox, adding to his several other wins for the film. His subtle and nuanced performance requires no dialogues. Indeed, both Saajan and Ila have not shared a frame together in the movie. I would not so much call this a romantic comedy as their relationship is purely platonic. The romance could well be the ideals and dreams they stir up in each other’s mind through the exchange of written notes. If there is anything comedic it comes as finding a listening ear, a slight relief from the mundane and inescapable in life.

It is interesting to watch how writer/director Ritesh Batra reveals to us the dabba as a metaphor. Like the stackable cans, the story is multi-layered. It touches on marriage, human connections, memories, and dreams. From the mass of humanity, we focus on two individuals striving to find meaning in their daily existence. Like the fastener that strap tight the cans of the dabba, Ila is caught in a loveless marriage with her husband Rajeev (Nakul Vaid), and the aging Saajan is bound by memories of his late wife.

The film begins with Ila’s attempt to make a delicious meal for her husband Rajeev to win back his heart through his stomach, an advice from an upstairs neighbor Ila calls Auntie (Bharati Achrekar). Ila communicates with Auntie by talking out of her kitchen window. Herein lies the subtle humor of the movie. We do not see Auntie, except just hear her voice. She is like an invisible adviser to Ila’s love life. Poignantly, Auntie herself has been taking care of her own husband, Uncle, who is bedridden and in a comatose state for fifteen years. If life is a bondage like the dabba, Auntie doesn’t show it a bit from her cheerful voice.

Ila’s delicious meals soon get through to the heart of Saajan, the mistaken recipient. Saajan lives alone, and seems to be heading straight to even more meaningless days in his retirement. The note exchanges gradually break through his isolation. Further, albeit reluctantly, he has to train his replacement at work, the young and enthusiastic Shaikh (Nawazuddin Siddiqui). Now this is one lively character that not only offers a humorous foil to the withdrawn Saajan, but like Auntie, Shaikh is optimistic about life, even though he has grown up an orphan. Soon, Shaikh has broken down the barrier with Saajan and the two establish a kind of father/son relationship.

With The Lunchbox, his debut feature, Batra has won several screenplay and directing awards. He is definitely one promising filmmaker to watch. His approach here is naturalistic. Shooting on location in Mumbai, the camera captures realistic, ethnographic street scenes and the mass on public transits, telling this Mumbai story in situ. Through the handwritten notes hidden in the mundane dabba, delivered by a traditional human service, the film vividly shows us that even in our day of emails and instant messaging, the route to connect is still through the human heart.

~ ~ ~ 1/2 Ripples

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Related Movie Reviews on Ripple Effects:

Life of Pi (2012): The Magical 3D Experience

English Vinglish (2012)

Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

The Namesake (2006): Movie Review

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Book Sale 2014: A Very Restrained Purchase

It’s that time of the year again… no, I don’t mean nesting habit of birds. I’m referring to The Crossroads Market Annual Book Sale. A diversion from my usual avian pics for Saturday Snapshot, here’s a photo of my very restrained purchase this year.

Readers familiar with my previous annual book loot will know how I’d hauled back home dozens of like-new or even unopened books at $2 each. All for the good cause of supporting Servants Anonymous Society.

Due to the boxes of still unread inventory from previous years, I’d decided to refrain from gratifying my hoarding instinct this time. The result is this minimal bagging of just four books, which I’d spent hours hand picking. Again, $2 each, all in mint condition:

The reasons for these selections? Three had sold film rights and two of them are already in development for a movie adaptation. The fourth one isn’t going to be a movie, but no less dramatic.

An Object of Beauty by Steve Martin

Other than being known as the Father of the Bride, Steven Martin is also a talented banjo player. I’ve heard his banjo playing, but as for his books, quite a few of them actually, I still haven’t had the pleasure to enjoy. So here it is, a Steve Marin novel with 22 full-colour art reproductions inside. Story is set in the demanding art world of Manhattan, about Sotheby’s up-and-coming and very ambitious Lacey Yeager who has set her mind on climbing high on the career ladder. Amy Adams had bought the film rights, aiming at producing and starring in it. Who is writing the screenplay? Ned Benson, who wrote and directed The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby Him and Her, which had me mesmerized at TIFF last year.

The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Barry

The novel won the prestigious James Tait Black Memorial Prize in the UK and the Costa Awards in 2008, Irish Book Awards’ Novel of the Year, and short-listed for the Man Booker Prize. Roseanne McNulty has lived in a mental asylum for fifty plus years. Now at the ripe old age of one hundred, she decides to write her life story. Fascinating. So the book chapters transport the character and her readers between the present and the past. I look forward to the movie adaptation, just take a look at this perfect casting: the legendary Vanessa Redgrave as the older Roseanne McNulty and the talented Jessica Chastain as the younger. Producer is Noel Pearson, the Irish theatre and film producer who brought us the Oscar winning My Left Foot (1989, Daniel Day-Lewis). The Secret Scripture film adaptation has great potentials. Shooting is reported to be starting in June this year.

The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt

Here in Canada, this is a multiple award winner: 2011 Governor General’s Literary Award, 2011 Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize, 2011 Scotiabank Giller Prize Finalist, 2011 Man Booker Prize Finalist, and selected as Amazon #1 Best Book of 2011. Film rights have been purchased by John C. Reilly’s production company… yes, the actor John C. Reilly, to turn this Western, yes, cowboy novel in the style of Elmore Leonard and True Grit into film. Should be an interesting read and movie. I don’t know about John C. Reilly, but, would he be willing to collaborate with the Coen brothers for the project?

The Film Club by David Gilmour

This is not the David Gilmour of Pink Floyd fame. Again, despite being an award-winning Canadian author, one time TV personality and CBC film critic, university lecturer, people outside of Canada upon hearing the name would likely think of someone more famous, at least Google does. Due to his recent incendiary remarks on his preferences re. writers and literature, this Canadian Gilmour just may have raised some awareness, adding notoriety to his name.

However, for me it’s not about him but about this audacious parenting experiment he conducted. At the time, his son was a 16 year-old who had an incurable avoidance of school. Watching him loiter at the edge of the cliff of boredom and aimlessness, what is a father to do? Well, Gilmour let his son drop out of school, but on two conditions: watch three movies with him every week, and, no drugs. Not a bad offer. A father and son film club instead of school… only in Canada, eh? Which titles were in his syllabus? As a film buff, I’m totally intrigued by his unorthodox parenting method, already half way through the book. Will definitely share with you eager parents when I’m done.

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You might want to see what others have posted for their Saturday Snapshot. CLICK HERE to Melinda of West Metro Mommy Reads.

Homage to Flannery O’Connor: Looking for ‘Intrusions of Grace’ in Films

Today is the birthday of Flannery O’Connor. As a tribute, I’m re-posting a piece I wrote a few years ago entitled “Looking for ‘Intrusions of Grace’ in Films: Pickpocket and Drive”

Our age not only does not have a very sharp eye for the almost imperceptible intrusions of grace, it no longer has much feeling for the nature of the violence which precede and follow them.” — Flannery O’Connor (quoted in my post A Good Man Is Hard to Find and Other Stories)

Flannery O’Connor made this remark back in 1963. It was not only a sharp social commentary and prophetic, but to me, it also stands as one of the signs of a good film. Amidst the violence and ugliness a film may depict, the presence of grace, however small, or a mere spot of purity, could bring out a powerful contrast. Usually that is what’s needed to emit a redemptive spark, a glimpse of light pointing to the transcendent.

With this frame of grace among violence, I go back to the films I’ve watched and try to find some good examples. My task proves to be more difficult than I first thought. But after some deep searching through my mental archive, several films came to mind. I’ll just mention two for this post.

Pickpocket (1959)

Robert Bresson’s modern version of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. Caught in his own desensitized internal world, our protagonist Michel commits acts of theft as a desperate measure to fill the void in his existence. He goes through his days in a haunting vacuum devoid of meaning and emotions. He is unfeeling even towards his own dying mother, reminds me of Meursault in Camus’s The Stranger. Although not an axe murderer like Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment, Michel theorizes that those with superior talents and intelligence, the supermen in society, should be free to disobey laws in certain cases. He is numbed by his own hubris, and stifled by his cold and absurd worldview. Outright violence is not visible here, but we see the battle of wits he engages with the police inspector behind his trails, and we see him struggle in an amoral and meaningless existence.

Grace comes as Jeanne, a neighbor and carer of Michel’s ailing mother. Jeanne lives on her own looking after her younger brother. Her father is a drunk and her mother has deserted them. But she continues to live and care. She accepts her circumstances calmly, and extends kindness to those unrelated to her, caring for Michel’s mother, a neighbor on another floor. She stands as a stark contrast to Michel’s aloofness. At the end of the film, Jeanne came to visit Michel in prison after he was arrested, the two separated by the cold iron bars. For the first time, Michel feels love and wants to reciprocate it. And thus the cathartic ending as he totally melts in the presence of pure love and grace, wrapping up the film with this last line:

“Oh, Jeanne, to reach you at last, what a strange path I had to take.”

Drive (2011)

A current release that comes with high acclaims. The film was nominated for the Palme d’Or and Nicolas Winding Refn won Best Director at the Cannes Film Festival this year (2011). With slick and dashing camera work, the violence in “Drive” is visceral and graphic, a big contrast to the black and white, internal “Pickpocket”. However, I see some parallels between these two films made 50 years apart.

Ryan Gosling is “the Driver”. He does not even have a name. He is an expert stunt driver for movies and works at an autobody shop by day, drives a get-away car in the underworld of crimes by night. Like Michel in “Pickpocket”, he drifts in existence, numb and desensitized to the world around him. That is, until he meets Irene (Carey Mulligan), his neighbor.

Mulligan’s almost angelic presence in the film is most effective as a stark contrast to those around her. She lives alone looking after a child and works as a waitress in a diner. She appeals to the Driver by being herself, innocent, taking life as it is, responsible, caring for a child alone while his father is locked up in prison. Irene is a spot of purity in a rough environment. Her mere presence has transformed the Driver. From being aloof the Driver has become engaged emotionally, friendly and protective of both mother and son.

The plot thickens as Irene’s husband is released from prison and rejoins his family. The Driver is caught in an awkward situation. But he soon realizes that the husband’s resolve for a new start is genuine. The power of transformation is so thorough that the Driver is willing to go out on a limb to help the husband with one last heist in order to break the hold a gang has on the man, his wife and kid. While things go awry terribly and the ending is not as clean-cut as “Pickpocket”, we learn that the Driver remains a changed man from the ephemeral friendship he once had with Irene and her child.

Some might say Mulligan is a miscast, that she’s not “damaged enough”, and would prefer a ‘stronger’ character. I disagree. I feel that Mulligan has portrayed Irene’s innocent persona aptly, and yes, those ethereal dimples can just melt any heart. Hers is the perfect role for exactly the right reason. In the dark underworld of gangs, violence and crimes, she stands out as a tiny source of purity, a spark of grace. It all shows that what may look weak and vulnerable can have transformative power over the strong. A thought that may well be unpopular today.

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Other related posts from Ripple Effects:

A Good Man Is Hard To Find and Other Stories by Flannery O’Connor

Bernini’s Corpus and Modern Movies

Notes on the Synthesis of Film, Art… Life?

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