Rabiye Kurnaz vs. George W. Bush (Rabiye Kurnaz gegen George W. Bush)

QUICK SNAP: LIVE FROM BERLIN!

Being both highly important and deeply funny at the same time without one part overshadowing the other is a difficult line to tread, but Rabiye Kurnaz vs. George W. Bush, stemming from a fantastic central performance by Meltem Kaptan, manages to feel absolutely effortless. The kind of crowd-pleasing comedy that you could probably recommend to just about anybody, expect it to be a domestic hit in Germany and perhaps even have many admirers overseas.

The year is 2001. The US is in paranoiac overdrive due to the recent 9/11 bombings. Turkish-German Murat (Abdullah Emre Öztürk) travels to Pakistan from Bremen without telling his mother Rabiye (Meltem Kaptan). He is later arrested by the authorities on suspicion of terrorism and later taken to Guantanamo Bay. As he is not technically being held on American soil, he is denied the right to a fair trial, leading Rabiye to enlist the services of German human rights lawyer Bernhard Docke (Alexander Scheer).

It is at once a courtroom drama and a culture-clash comedy, with the chaotic Turkish mother and the stereotypically rigid German lawyer butting heads on the proper way to do things. For example, while he insists that things takes time, Rabiye likes to rush into rooms, demanding the nearest minister’s attention. But where a lesser screenplay might have let this play out in obvious, cringe-worthy ways, Rabiye Kurnaz has laser-sharp focus on both its central characters, making their relationship feel natural and well-earned despite their many differences. It’s a huge step up from the other war on terror comedy Curveball (Johannes Naber, 2020), which lacked both urgency or even a single laugh.

Taking place over many years, the film does a great job of explaining the different levels of bureaucratic hell that Murat is under without ever having feeling complex or over-explained. New developments that could’ve become repetitive or over-laboured are placed in new settings each time, managing to reveal something new about the characters in the process. Kaptan, with her larger-than-life demeanour, huge bird’s-nest haircut and motor-mouth attitude, is the absolute centre of the piece. Rarely falling into cliché, she elevates the script into the kind of well-made broad comedy (with a message) that contemporary cinema so often lacks.

The facts of the case are shocking: not only are 39 people still held in Cuba without ever having a fair trial, but the German government has been proven to actively cover up their involvement in the so-called war of terror. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, making a comedy such as this a better delivery system for the film’s message than any dark and depressing camp-set drama ever could. In fact comedy is perfect, because it humanises Muslim people instead of constantly seeing them through a victim/perpetrator binary, actually working better than nearly all of the 00s war on terror thrillers to discuss the legacy of American overreach.

It also provides a key lesson to the new wave of unfunny American “serious” comedies, from Don’t Look Up (Adam McKay, 2021) to Bombshell (Jay Roach, 2019). You don’t need to lecture in order to get your message across. You simply have to be funny. Rabiye Kurnaz is all of that and more.

Rabiye Kurnaz vs. George W. Bush plays in Competition at the 72nd Berlinale, running between February 10th and 20th.

Film lovers: win a trip to Cannes or Berlin!

To all lovers of European film: ArteKino is back for the 6th consecutive year, with yet another incredible selection of 12 European films entirely free to watch (up from 10 movies in the previous years). The online Festival is aimed at cinephiles from all over Europe who are seeking original, innovative and thought-provoking European productions. You can watch films on ArteKino’s dedicated website and also on ArteKino iOS and Android app (developed in conjunction with Festival Scope). Subtitles are available in various different languages.

And what’s more: not only you can watch great European cinema from the comfort of your home, but you can also win one of the three incredible prizes below simply by voting for your favourite movie (for the ArteKino European Audience Award).

  • A trip to the Cannes Film Festival;
  • A trip to the Berlin Film Festival; or
  • An Angell/S smart bike.

The Cannes Film Festival takes place in May 2022. The Berlin International Film Festival takes place in February 2022. The prize includes transport by plane, train, bus, etc. from the place of residence, accreditation and accommodation for two nights on site, for one person. This stay will be organised by the BLEU BUSINESS agency in Clermont-Ferrand.

Winners of the competition will be chosen by a random draw from among the persons who have correctly completed the entry form. The draw will take place on 7/01/2021 and will be carried out by ARTE GEIE. The draw will be carried out by ARTE G.E.I.E. manually. ARTE France will inform the Winners by e-mail no later than 17/01/2022, using the information that they provided in their entry form.

Just click here in order to watch the films for free and take part in the competition, and click here for the detailed regulation of the audience prize. Now hurry up: the competition ends on December 31st!

The still above is from the Polish movie Call Me Marianna (Karolina Bielawska, 2016), one of the 12 film entries.

Precious Ivie (Ivie wie Ivie)

QUICK SNAP: LIVE FROM TALLINN

Is Germany finally having a reckoning around race? The classic text Berlin Alexanderplatz (Burhan Qurbani, 2020) was reimagined for the immigrant generation, then Mr Bachmann and His Class (Maria Speth, 2021) sensitively told the story of a German teacher managing a class full of second-generation children in a rural part of the country. Now we have Precious Ivie from Sarah Blaßkewietz, a tender and powered exploration of mixed-racial identity that shows Germany’s difficulty in becoming a truly multikulti society.

I live in Germany myself and notice the awkward ways so-called liberals even in cities such as Berlin talk about racism. While the country’s own anti-semitic past is dealt with frankly, conversations around its Black citizens are still littered with stereotypes and mischaracterisations. Precious Ivie dives straight into it when the titular, mixed-race protagonist (Haley Louise Jones) interviews for a teaching position and shuts down when asked about where’s she’s really from. White Germans might not see the problem with such a question; for Afro-Germans it reinforces their difference from mainstream society.

It’s the kind of topic that’s been explored a lot in British TV — think the brilliant May I Destroy You (Michaela Cole, 2020) or the Small Axe (Steve McQueen, 2020) project — but remains something of a taboo topic in Germany. It’s something Ivie herself, living in the internationally-positioned but provincially-minded city of Leipzig, doesn’t try to think about too much, even brushing off her friend Anne’s (Anne Haug) use of the word “brownie” as a term of endearment. Nothing malicious is meant by it, but it’s the kind of thing that white people might not recognise can be harmful.

Which is all to say that Precious Ivie is an important debut by Blaßkewietz, herself Afro-German, that uses a melodramatic form to explore issues of identity, belonging and sisterhood. The story feels like something out of an Pedro Almodóvar film, Ivie forced to think about her relationship to her Black Senegalese father when her darker-skinned half-sister Naomi (Lorna Ishema) turns up out of the blue from Berlin. Having no idea who her father really was, the two sisters navigate what it means to be Black in a majority-white country.

If it feels like a heavy topic, Blaßkewietz has a great naturalist approach to everyday scene construction, crafting the inner lives of both women. The dialogue flows naturally, often showing characters not being able to say exactly what they mean or changing their minds mid-flow. She has also takes great care to sketch out how Ivie and Naomi’s experiences differ; while the light-skinned Ivie faces more passive-aggressive discrimination, the darker Naomi sees herself as the victim of genuine racist abuse.

But there are also many moments of genuine joy and friendship, as well as the potential for romance. A meet-cute on the bus between Ivie and a handsome white man is especially well handled, as well as Naomi’s burgeoning lesbian side, making me want to see the same director handle an outright romantic comedy. We get a true sense of these characters and want to hang out with them more, many plotlines frustratingly feeling unfulfilled by the time the credits roll around. Because of this emotional connection we have to the characters, once it moves into weepie territory it feels completely hard-earned. Here’s hoping it has a wide release in Germany and can open up fresh conversations about race in the country.

Precious Ivie plays in the First Feature section of the Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival, running from 12-28th November.

Cocoon (Kokon)

It’s a simmering Berlin summer, the hottest on record and in the middle of gym day, Nora (Lena Urzendowsky) has her first period in front of everyone. The incident embarrasses her older sister Jule (Lena Klenke) and her best friend Aylin (Elina Vildanova), who she tags along with as a third wheel. When student Romy (Jella Haase) rushes to help her, it’s the beginning of a life-changing moment, and as their friendship blossoms, Nora for the first time falls in love.

Cinema is populated with dramas about sexual awakening that prompts the question: why the continued interest – for storytellers and audience alike? In the case of the German drama Cocoon, the first reason is director Leonie Krippendorff confidently announces herself with this raw coming-of-age story. Beyond that, these tales of an intimate human experience must trigger impulsive emotional and intellectual pleasure. They must nourish our souls, providing us with something we crave that we may not necessarily be aware of, or we struggle to articulate. Deep down, we’re inherently fascinated by transformation that forms part of the cycle that defines our journey from life to death – the anxieties and the ecstasy. And in spite of our differences, this period of our lives is a traumatic experience that bonds us all.

You can feel the exuberant energy of youth that even the Berlin heatwave cannot quell. There are those bonds of friendship and love, an intimacy with a risk of vulnerability that adds intensity to the story of young people coming-of-age. Krippendorff understands the importance to create that intense feeling that comes with this period of abandonment – live for the day because the future has not yet arrived.

In an early scene, there’s a beautifully orchestrated sequence that acknowledges feelings exist even when not verbally articulated. We are who we are whether or not a side to ourselves is expressed.

Cinema allows for a silent visual expression between a character and the audience that makes storytelling in this medium special. This foreshadows much of the film because Nora is the silent type. She communicates with a mysterious look in her eyes or through her facial expressions, even the subtlety of her lips. While we must fill in these regular voids of silent uncertainty, we feel that we know what she’s thinking.

Later Nora confides in her teacher, “I sometimes find other girls really beautiful… But I think I look at them differently somehow, more like the way a boy would look at them.” The response of the teacher is the voice of the director saying we shouldn’t be so quick to define ourselves, because identity is made up of shades. Instead, we must be open to exploring all the crevices that characterises our persona.

Krippendorff keeps the focus on Nora, and refrains from deferring too much to her sister or any of her social clique, or to the drama of their absent mother. Nora’s silence is refreshing to her loud peers, who provoke a feeling of irritation at their immaturity. Here the exuberant energy of youth is like a flame, and we watch to see if Nora is drawn close enough to it that she will be burnt. The carefree youths fail to grasp the monotony of life and the existential crisis that will be their future. At some point, this chapter of their lives will come to a close, and adulthood and its responsibilities will set in. Unlike Nora, it feels that her peers are standing still and are failing to develop their self-awareness. Jule’s for example is frustrated at not being able to find a dependable boyfriend, while Aylin is full of lust not only for her boyfriend, but of living for the moment.

Nora sees life to be experienced, youth a stepping stone to adulthood, and the caterpillars she keeps at home become symbolic of her journey. She shares her wisdom with us when towards the end of her film she says, “Memories are all the butterfly keeps of its life as a caterpillar.”

The film is a snapshot of a specific period in a person’s life, but it’s more broadly about whether adolescent or adult, we must own our life story, the pain and the joy, and grow. At its simplest, Cocoon is a thoughtful story about how the journey of life is to learn about ourselves. We should not be possessive, but like the butterfly value memories and experiences over keeping alive moments or chapters.

Cocoon is out in cinemas and on VOD platforms on Friday, December 11th.

7500

QUICK SNAP: LIVE FROM LOCARNO

The limited thriller has been growing in popularity in recent years. Whether its the police responder drama The Guilty (Gustav Möller, 2018) or the man-in-the-car-with-great-phone-reception talkie Locke (Steven Knight, 2013), the thriller has been pushed further and further in terms of doing more with less. You can now count 7500 — referring to the code pilots used when being hijacked — on that list, a German production that reinvents the wheel by trimming it down to the absolute barest essentials.

Bar a few opening scenes via CCTV, the entirety of the movie’s point-of-view is from the cockpit of the airplane. Once we are in the cockpit of a plane going from Berlin Tegel to Paris, it starts with almost rigorous realism; both the pilot (Carlo Kitzlinger) and his first captain (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) going over in fine detail about procedure that no one but a pilot or radio controller could understand. Taking place in almost real time, 7500’s premise isn’t very subtle. We know from the beginning that there will be some kind of Islamist threat, it’s how it goes about it that makes it such an entertaining, turbulent ride.

7500

Patrick Vollrath and his cinematographer deserve credit for keeping things interesting inside such a close space, quick exchanges of point-of-view, insert shots and close-ups allowing momentum to continuously build. This is all edited with invisible precision, easily allowing us to go along with the plot despite the limited amount of scenarios that are possible. All extraneous cutaway scenes plane hijacking thrillers are known for — such as the control tower going haywire, the police chief facing a difficult decision, or the accompanying fighter jets — are completely missing, referenced only through radio and seen through the plane window. This works very effectively because a) these scenes are almost always completely rote anyway and b) they allow us to use our imagination instead, making the film far more unpredictable and enjoyable.

All in all, it’s an almost perfect pure thriller, with the extra thematic elements — such as the threat of Islamic extremism and German-Turkish conflict within cities like Berlin — almost completely unnecessary to the plot itself. These hijackers could’ve been far-right fascists, money-grabbing freeloaders, Quebec nationalists, or pro-Brexit extremists and the film would’ve worked in almost exactly the same way. It’s a little bit of a shame that in a post-9/11 world that the de facto plane hijackers are still Muslim when there are so many conflicting ideologies across the world ready for adaption, but this plot is really just a threadbare line to hang the enjoyable ride upon.

Ultimately this isn’t a film about themes; this is a film that rests purely upon style and succeeds tremendously. With Joseph Gordon-Levitt in the main role, 7500 has the potential to be a breakout hit. While his Americanness doesn’t add much to the screenplay — which in fact may have worked better if he were simply a white German — his recognisable face and over-the-top acting style perhaps tells us much more than a lesser name could. It also means that it has more potential to be seen. Let’s just hope its rollout isn’t as limited as its premise.

7500 debuted to strong acclaim in the Piazza Grande open-air section. Amazon Studios are helming this one in all territories apart from German-speaking regions. Expect it in a cinema near you!

The Most Beautiful Girl In The World (Das Schönste Mädchen Der Welt)

The battle of the rappers is in full progress. In turn, they hurl outrageous insults at one another in rhyming couplets in an attempt to win the night’s competition. Cyril (Aaron Hilmer) puts his stuff in a locker and does a quick change. When the masked stranger takes the stage for the finale, everyone is astonished that he beats the reigning champion. But threatened with the removal of the mask, he vanishes into the night rather than receive his winner’s trophy.

Because Cyril is embarrassed by his appearance. Cyril, his mum, his dad and his little sister all have long noses. At school he’s the object of ridicule, not least by cock of the walk and class bully Benno (Jonas Ems). Cyril is a voracious reader too, but in a world of teenagers who want nothing more than to party, that also marks him out as different.

Yet when new girl Roxy (Luna Wedler) arrives in class, he can talk to her. She appreciates the same things he does. Somehow, he starts talking with the withdrawn Rick (Damian Hardung), who carries an acoustic guitar everywhere and is smitten with Roxy. So much so that he is attempting to write a love song. But Rick can’t get past his initial, hackneyed first line of a lyric and doesn’t even realise how inept it is. And once Roxy starts texting Rick with with lines, he doesn’t know what to reply.

So Cyril offers to help, going to great lengths to write speeches for Rick or respond to Roxy directly via mobile. Above all, he wants to help out his mate but Rick, although a nice enough guy, is also a pretty hopeless case. Useless with words. On the school trip to Berlin, Roxy tags along with Cyril to a rap contest and is wowed by the victorious masked rapper, convinced by the cut and thrust of his repartee that he must be Rick.

Further intrigue stems from Roxy’s expulsion from her last school for having sex in a cupboard with one of the boys. The label ‘slut’ has stuck, yet it doesn’t seem to ring true. However, that doesn’t stop Benno from entering a bet that he can seduce Roxy and post a video online as proof. The final reel’s high points include Roxy and Cyril rap duelling in a contest finale with a surprising yet highly satisfying twist, and a scene in which Cyril makes verbal mincemeat of the ultimately vacuous Benno by insulting Cyril’s own nose far more effectively than Benno ever could. Benno is utterly destroyed.

This is an adaptation of French classic play Cyrano de Bergerac which also spawned numerous other films, most recently Old Boys (Toby MacDonald, 2018) not to mention Cyrano de Bergerac (Jean-Paul Rappeneau, 1990) and the Steve Martin comedy vehicle Roxanne (Fred Schepisi, 1987). The current entry, a German high school movie with some of the funniest and most vitriolic dialogue ever committed to celluloid, is better than any of them.

It’s hard to see the subtitled version playing the UK on anything other than the art house circuit. While there’s little sex and violence onscreen (the sex in Roxy’s back story is verbal reportage), there is a German frankness to the whole that would sit uneasily with a mainstream UK or US culture. For instance, Cyril’s mum hilariously gives him a pep talk about contraception before he sets out on the Berlin school trip, cheerfully admitting she lost her own virginity on a high school trip before demonstrating the condom by first putting it over a banana then fellating it.

The film is, however, a shoe in for both a British and a US remake in the fullness of time. Although it’s hard to imagine either measuring up to the high standard set by this original.

The Most Beautiful Girl In The World played in the Schlingel International Film Festival. Watch the film trailer below:

Win a flight, hotel and pass to the Berlinale!!!

Have you ever dreamt of attending the largest film festival in the world and witnessing all the dirty action on the red carpet and inside the cinema with your very own eyes? Well, your dream could be about to come true, as ArteKino is giving away a flight, accommodation and accreditation for the next Berlinale, which is taking place between February 15th and 25th, 2018.

All you have to do is register with ArteKino and watch their films online before December 17th, entirely free. The difficult part is that you will have to select from 10 dirtylicious and precious gems of European cinema, and you won’t know where to start. And then you have to vote. Such hard work! The amazing selection includes a Bulgarian story of lovelessness, corruption and addiction, with a twist, a Portuguese tale of sorrow and nostalgia, the life of controversial Polish surrealist painter Zdzisław Beksiński, before he rose to fame, and also a very dysfunctional macho game in Greece, plus much much more.

Click here for the full terms and conditions, including which films you can see, where and who’s eligible for the promotion.

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A little about the Berlinale

The German capital is an exciting, cosmopolitan cultural hub that never ceases to attract artists from around the world. A diverse cultural scene, a critical public and an audience of film-lovers characterise the city. In the middle of it all, the Berlinale: a great cultural event and one of the most important dates for the international film industry. More than 334,000 sold tickets, more than 21,000 professional visitors from 127 countries, including more than 3,700 journalists: art, glamour, parties and business are all inseparably linked at the Berlinale.

The public programme of the Berlin International Film Festival shows about 400 films per year, mostly international or European premieres. Films of every genre, length and format find their place in the various sections. Click here for more information on the Festival’s website.

DMovies will be at the Berlinale digging up the dirt under the red carpet. Two of our journalists, Victor Fraga and Tiago Di Mauro will attend the event. So if you are not fortunate enough to win this amazing promo, panic not. Our coverage will bring the dirtiest event highlights to you on this website.

In the Intense Now (No Intenso Agora)

QUICK SNAP: LIVE FROM BERLIN

The 1960s were a decade of intense changes in the world, and the year of 1968 encapsulates both the hope and the deception of the young people seeking change under the guidance of Marx and Mao. In his latest documentary, the Braziloian filmmaker João Moreira Salles chose to depict three countries that were experiencing tremendous changes then: France, his homeland Brazil and the now defunct Czechoslovakia.

The films is a collage of footage and images from the 1960s with reflections and commentary made in Portuguese by the director himself. France saw the May 1968 student uprising, while Czechoslovakia experienced the Prague Spring (which attempted to lessen the stranglehold the Soviet Union had on the nation’s affairs) and Brazilians resisted the country’s military dictatorship.

Salles does a detailed semiotic reading of various events, and delivers his very own interpretation of the attempted revolution and its consequences. Three single deaths came to epitomise the three movements: Edson Luís in Brazil, Jan Palach in Czechoslovakia and Gilles Tautin in France. The three countries mourned and protested their respective tragedies. The director also blended footage from his mother’s visit to China around the same time, as well as pictures from his childhood in Brazil. Maybe he wanted to contrast the tautness of revolutionary straugglt against his family’s bourgeois lifestyle (his father was a banker, a government minister and an embassador, which is not revealed in the movie).

In the Intense Now is a lyrical piece with a somber tone. Salles’s voice is stern and laborious, and the second half of the movie feels like an eulogy to a bygone revolution, sepulchred by Charles de Gaulle, the Soviets and the dictatorship in Brazil. Extracts from various French films are used in the 127-minute-long film, and special attention is given to the Mourir à 30 Ans (Roumain Goupil, 1982) – a sad tribute to the 1968 revolutionaries who committed suicide at the age of just 30. It feels like Salles has become pessimistic about the prospect of the change. Or perhaps he just think the Marxist/Maoist revolution is now obsolete. One question remains moot: is the intense desire for transformation that that these three countries saw five decades ago replicable in the present?

In the Intense Now is showing this week in the Panorama section of the 67th Berlin International Film Festival, which DMovies is covering live right now – Click here for more information about the event. The film is dedicated to the Brazilian emblematic documentarist Eduardo Coutinho, who was murdered by his own son just three years ago, and with whom Salles had often collaborated. He explained before the film screening that the project was largely organic, and that no decisions being made before they began making the movie – in the same style of the late filmmaker Coutinho.