Turning the time-clock back to Saturday...
Bent Hamer's O' Horten meanders in ways that only a Scandinavian dramedy is capable of. This Norwegian-import very muchwas made in the vein of the work of neighboring-Finlander Aki Kaurismaki, but its attempts at subtle dark comedy and quiet emotional resonance are futile compared to those of the veteran filmmaker. The picture is deliberately anti-narrative, reveling in wide-shots of starkly beautiful ice-filled landscapes set to Kaada's transfixing original score, until it reaches a dreamlike final act in which its newly-retired train-engineer protagonist Odd Horton (Baard Owe) stumbles upon an unlikely friendship (or something like it) late one night in a smoke-shop. Ultimately, the experience doesn't quite gel together, making the viewer wish writer/director Hamer had stuck to the simple and enjoyable wonders of the opening acts and not gone for the opaque whimsy that he does at the end. The film's conclusion is unrewarding because its adherence to the abstract fails to rationalize what has come before it in a moving way, as an unexpectedly logical one may have. Alas, O'Horten feels plodding and a bit empty on the whole, which is a shame given that Owe is terrific in the lead role and the film boasts good production values. 2 Buckets out of 4.
Viewers seeking a more realistic experience should look no further than Olivier Assayas' Summer Hours, an engrossing French drama about grown siblings (Juliette Binoche, Jérémie Renier, and Charles Berling) coping with the loss of their mother by considering the future of their ownership of the home she lived in. Note that I wrote "engrossing" and not "emotional." Summer Hours lacks poignancy because the characters are not relatable everyday people ; they make up the typical elitist, artsy-fartsy French crowd. In one scene, a character resents the decision that the siblings made to give away certain famous art-pieces in the home, a feeling that present financially-burdened moviegoers (at least in the U.S.) will find to be a bit distant from their sympathies. Nonetheless, Summer Hours finds exceptional authenticity in the way the siblings interact regarding the home, which they grew up in and spent countless hours enjoying over summers with their children. Two of them could care less about the house--it holds sentimental value, but this value is less desirable to them than the money they'll bank from selling it--and one sees the need to keep it to stay true to his mother. In this very conflict, Assayas engages in seamless character-development, showing how these people have grown over the years and have become who they are today. There isn't a whiff of sentimentality or manipulation to be found in the exercise, either. While I may not have left Summer Hours touched, there's no reason I should have. This is a movie about families that strives for so much more than the typical teary-eyed melodrama. There was simply no reason for Assayas to explore cliches here because they wouldn't have added anything to the story, and that he realized this is a testament to his measured judgment as a filmmaker. (No, I wouldn't say the same thing about Demonlover, just in case it was bothering you.) Keep an eye out for this film; it's worth seeing. 3 Buckets out of 4; screens again tonight, Weds., Nov. 5 at 7 p.m.And then there was the big Centerpiece Gala of the night, the first of three during the festival (The Wrestler and Last Chance Harvey are both slated for later this week.)
It's hard to discuss my thoughts on Steven Soderbergh's 4-1/2 hour epic, Che, within the confines of a short 'blog entry, nor to I have any aspirations to. This is mainly because the movie boasts none of the standard markings of a sprawling opus; instead, it's almost exclusively strung together by minor moments. If you were wondering what Che Guevara, the man who is equally praised by leftists for being a heroic revolutionary as he is condemned by moderates and conservatives for being responsible for dozens of brutal murders, was like on a human-level when he camped out before skirmishes in his revolutions in Cuba and Bolivia, then this is the movie for you (or at least Soderbergh thinks it is).What I found most interesting about Che is how differently I reacted to its two parts. (It was logically split in two primarily for commercial reasons, but there were some artistic differences between the parts like theatrical aspect ratio.) Part one covers Guevara's participation in the Cuban Revolution, from the battles he fought to his relationship with Fidel Castro to the communist principles that led him to participate. It succeeds as a straightforward war film with a uniquely intimate scope, primarily because Soderbergh adheres to detail and doesn't over-glamorize Che. (No, Soderbergh doesn't depict him for the murderer he was, but given the movie is told from Che's emotional-perspective, this is forgivable). The cinematography is sweeping, especially when one considers how good it looks for something shot on digital. And Benicio Del Toro just flat-out disappears into the role of Che, instantly sucking the viewer in.
Part two of the film, on the other hand, is pretty awful. It moves with the pace of molasses, covering the "quieter" moments of Che's attempted overthrow of the Bolivian government years after his efforts in Cuba became infamous. I don't have any problem with this approach in and of itself--in fact, I think Soderbergh's refusal to go for a traditionally epic approach was noble and lends admirable intimacy to the material--but it doesn't work overall because Peter Buchman and Benjamin A. van der Veen's script contains few interesting insights on Che himself. The result is a 2+ hour saga that delves into a completely empty version of a man's psyche. And the final scenes absolutely glamorize Che in an inappropriate manner, with sympathetic POV photography that is as morally-repugnant as it is aesthetically-beautiful. Yes, Del Toro remains as good in part two as he is in part one--I don't believe there was any lapse between the parts in filming, so any difference in the quality of his performance would have been unexpected--but this can't save what becomes a yawn-inducing and arguably offensive finish to what begins as a pretty good movie. What a shame. 2 Buckets out of 4 (part one: 3, part two: 1 1/2); opens in limited release and on IFC VideoOnDemand on Dec. 12.
That's all I've got for Saturday. I caught three movies on Sunday and Monday and will report back soon on those, as well as the 13 others I plan to catch between now and the end of the festival.
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