radiohed-1 Reviews

Funny Games (2007)

An intriguing exercise in copying one's self.

[22 October 2007]

I saw this at the London Film Festival and found it to be exactly what I expected: an English-language facsimile by Michael Haneke of his 1997 German film of the same title. Not that this is a bad thing. It is a testament to Haneke's artistic ability to replicate perfectly his previous film shot-by-shot with equal effect, tension, and intrigue even as one knows what to expect--although it might also say something about Haneke's ego that he doesn't feel that he needed to change or add new material for audiences who've already seen the original. The performances are overall well-executed, especially by Naomi Watts, an actress who has proved that she will still take risks despite the fact that she has made it both in the art-house scene and in mainstream Hollywood.

Haneke wanted to replicate the original film for American audiences since he has considered the story closer culturally to American society. That is a noble effort, but I am not sure if it required him to remake an exact replica of one of his earlier works, nor am I sure that it will have quite the impact he wants since the American audiences he is targeting might avoid it all together (as it might be seen as too art-house or extreme) or be completely turned off by its content and artistic approach. Nonetheless, it is interesting to witness as an exercise in a film artist revisiting his earlier work, even if he didn't bother changing anything.

Krisana (2005)

One man's guilt-ridden, Antonioni-esquire journey

[8/10 · 27 January 2006]

I am normally not compelled to write a review for a film, but the only commentary for this film thus far on is rather unfair, so I feel it necessary to share my point of view.

"Krisana" (or as it was titled at the theater I saw it, "Fallen") follows Matiss, a lonely Latvian archivist, as he tries to learn about a woman whom he didn't try to stop from jumping off a bridge, as well as her reasons for doing so. That's the plot in a nutshell, but this film is not concerned with story as much it is in depicting the guilt of a man who failed to act. As a detective who investigates the incident tells him, we usually don't bother to care about the anonymous faces we pass every day until after they die.

Comparisons to Michaelango Antonioni and his "Blowup" will most likely abound in any review you read about "Krisana." The influence of Antonioni's philosophical and austere style and the story of "Blowup" are clear and, in fact, writer/director Fred Kelemen makes an obvious reference to that film in scenes in which Matiss attempts to come to know the woman who jumped off the bridge, or at least who he thinks did.

The only other person to share his or her views on the film detracts the "college film class" look and sound of the film. He or she neglects to consider the budgetary constraints that an existentialist Latvian film most likely faces, but the atmospheric black and white cinematography and ambient sound succeeds at an artistic level to depict the solitude of Matiss. The background sound of wind and street noises lend an ominous aura and reminds one of a Fellini film, whether or not that was Kelemen's intention. The filmmakers undoubtedly had little money, but this constraint is used to the film's advantage.

"Krisana" succeeds as a character study with enough humor thrown in to keep it from being too self-serious. It could have easily fell into the trappings of a mystery story, but it avoids that and becomes an intelligent film about loneliness and guilt. If you are more concerned with plot, this film and its ending may frustrate you. Otherwise, take the time to be engaged by it. It is well-worth seeking out.

The Motorcycle Diaries (2004)

A " lavishly illustrated Rough Guide to white liberal self-affirmation."

[3/10 · 2 October 2004]

That is a quote from Jessica Winter's review of Diarios de Motocicleta in The Village Voice that basically explains my feelings towards the film. First, I would like to get the politics out of the way: I consider myself a liberal, but I have never cared for Che Guevara's political philosophy. His admirers are very quick to dismiss his totalitarian leanings and repression of civil liberties. However, I can certainly admire and enjoy a film that represents ideas and philosophies with which I do not agree; for example, I am certainly not a Nazi sympathizer, but I acknowledge the artistry of Leni Riefenstahl's films. Diarios de Motocicleta, however, is an insipid and forgettable film based on the memoirs of arguably one of the 20th century's most recognizable individuals.

What should have been a lively coming of age story has been reduced to over-simplistic hero worship. Before he christened himself as "Che," Ernesto Guevara de la Serna (Gael Garcia Bernal) was a middle-class, asthmatic medical student from Buenos Aires who, in 1952 with his biochemist friend, Alberto Granado (Rodrigo de la Serna) set off on a journey across South America on a dilapidated motorcycle. Instead of an exhilarating depiction of a journey that is in itself a fantastic yarn, director Walter Salles and Jose Rivera would rather the audience remain conscious of the influential figure that Ernesto would later become.

An admiring depiction of a person's life is fascinating if it exposes his or her flaws as well, which Diarios de Motocicleta fails to do. Instead of showing him as stubborn and myopic, Ernesto is painted as heroic and idealistic. His only major fault seems to be that he is a terrible dancer. Most people who will see this film are no doubt fond of Che, even if only on a superficial level, so they will buy into the hero-worship hook, line, and sinker. They will also certainly approve of the ending credits' note that Che was "murdered" by the CIA, because "killed" is not as powerful a word. Such blind admiration is disturbingly frustrating, and it is well epitomized by Ernesto's swim across the Amazon to his downtrodden comrades in a leper colony as he is cheered on by them and his colleagues. Apparently his love of the people is so powerful it cured his asthma, which is great for the sake of everyone who owns a Che Guevara t-shirt.

Personally, I was more intrigued by Alberto Granado, wonderfully played by Rodrigo de la Serna. Alberto is a fascinating and flawed individual who blindly chases wine, women, and song. He is depicted warmly yet remains firmly human. If only they had done the same for Che.

While watching Diarios de Motocicleta I couldn't help but think about another Spanish-language coming-of-age film starring Gael Garcia about two friends who embark on a journey that will change their lives; I would recommend to anyone to rent Alfonso Cuaron's Y Tu Mama Tambien instead of sitting through two hours of "white liberal self-affirmation." I'm certain Che would disapprove of the idea of paying to see a film about him, anyway.