Tag: drama

Shoplifters (Manbiki Kazoku)

Posted on by Jeremy Clarke

The nuclear family. Dad Osamu (Lily Franky) takes son Shota (Jyo Kairi) to a local convenience store where, through a series of long rehearsed routines, they steal a series of items. Just another day of getting by.

Mum Nobuyo (Ando Sakura), a former sex worker, dispenses advice to her younger sister Aki (Mayu Matsuoka) – who gets fired from a club where girls display themselves in various states of dress and undress to clients through one way mirrors. Basically, she’s been caught sticking her hands in the till. Grandma (Kirin Kiki) lives with the family making a total of five persons in one small living space.

Dad explains to Shota that he and his partner are bonded here (puts hand on heart) not here (puts hand on genitalia). Yet one afternoon when everyone else is out, she comes on strong and the two adults indulge in an afternoon of passion. Until the children come home unexpectedly.

As if all these familial relationships weren’t complicated enough, father and son spot a little girl (Miyu Sasaki) sitting on the street. She’s hungry, so they take her to their home and give her a meal. That turns into an overnight stay. They try and take her back to her own home, but it’s clear in the street outside from her parents’ clearly audible and highly vocal arguing that neither father nor mother wants the child currently nor ever did. So the family decides to take Yuri in as its newest member.

Shota takes Yuri on a shoplifting trip but it doesn’t go so well. She’s both naive and inexperienced. A shop assistant tells him to quit involving his sister in his shoplifting activities. Much later on, the boy takes the girl on another shoplifting spree which ends in him getting caught, the police questioning the entire family and unexpected revelations about the family itself.

Koreeda has ventured into this territory of the non-nuclear family before. Nobody Knows (2004) featured a group of children left to fend for themselves in an urban environment. Like Father, Like Son (2013) had each of two couples mistakenly bring up a boy as their own after two boys were switched at birth in the hospital. The Japanese director seems fascinated by family function and dysfunction. Why the family unit matters – and when it might be redundant.

All of which is constantly engaging and its assorted characters compelling. One is drawn to them and yet, at the same time, it’s not a family you’d want to be part of when its reality is eventually exposed. The film picked up the Palme d’Or in Cannes and numerous other awards elsewhere. Koreeda seems to be on a winning streak at the moment after The Third Murder (2017). For good measure, Shoplifters also boasts a terrific score by Haruomi Hosono, his first for Koreeda.

Shoplifters plays in the London East Asia Film Festival (LEAFF) on Sunday, November 4th . Buy tickets here. It’s out in cinemas Friday, November 23rd, and on VoD on Monday, March 25th (2019).

Never Steady, Never Still

Posted on by victorfraga

Judging by the title, you’d be forgiven for thinking that this a a hectic and disturbing film, with a disjointed and uncontrollable pace. But it’s not quite. Quite the opposite. This is a warm and delicate movie, full of peace and kindness, despite the predicament of its main characters. It’s a remarkable achievement for first-time Canadian scribe and helmer Kathleen Hepburn.

The film opens up with a voice-over from the protagonist Judy (Scottish actress Shirley Henderson, best remembered for playing Gail in Danny Boyle’s Trainspotting in 1996) as she describes the grief and pain of losing a child (she gave birth to a stillborn baby years earlier). She also reflects on the meaning of life and death. This meditative monologue sets the tone for the movie, a profound existential piece about overcoming the big obstacles of life however unsurmountable they may seem.

Judy suffers from early onset and advanced Parkinson’s Disease. She shudders uncontrollably most of the time, and even the most trivial tasks such unscrewing a lid and removing a ring become arduous. Her voice is as frail and as child-like as it gets. Her panting and squeaking with pain and frustration are heart-rending. Yet she’s not victimised by the filmmaker. There’s no time for self-pity, despite the horrific and irreversible condition, which can only be partially mitigated. Life must go on. She insists in driving and carrying on with other mundane chores, sometimes without even taking her medicine.

Henderson delivers an impeccable performance, brilliantly reconciling vulnerability and self-determination. She’s beyond convincing, and you might find yourself wondering whether they recruited a real Parkinson-sufferer for the role. Even her physique is appropriate for the role. Her scrawny figure, with every single vertebra visible, is symptomatic of Parkinson’s. Patients lose weight because they can’t feed themselves properly. I lost my aunt Ivonete to Parkinson’s just a few weeks ago, and so Judy rang many familiar bells in my head.

Suddenly Judy’s husband Ed passes away at sea to a heart attack. Judy is the first to come across his lifeless body on the beach, right next to his fishing boat. She attempts to pull him from the sea. This is the most dramatic sequence of the film, as Judy is faced with her physical limitations and the tragic death of the most important person in her life, both at once. Their son Jamie (Theodore Pellerin) is the other central pillar of the story. He’s 20 years old, shy, introverted and grappling with his apparent bisexuality. Now mother and son are left to comfort and support each other, but at first it’s unclear whether they’ll pull through.

Gradually, the coy youngster and the quivering mother complement each other. In an awkward way, her frailty dovetails with his insecurities, while the landscape offers soothing and healing. The vastness of rural and remote British Columbia, all tinted with pastel hues and a lingering twilight, provide mother and son with a certain quietness. They remain stoical towards the tragedies that have befallen them. It’s as if their emotions dissipated into the landscape.

The director’s firm grip and acute sensitivity are conspicuous throughout the movie. There’s even a little dash of humour. And copious amounts of maladroit yet sincere kindness. Ultimately, Judy and Jamie must find mitigation in their family bonds and attempt to forge new relationships, however closely-knit and remote their community may be.

Never Steady, Never Still is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, April 20th, and then on VoD the following week.

Mario

Posted on by Alasdair Bayman

Back in 2010, Germany striker Mario Gomez urged footballers who were homosexual to come out as they “would play as if they had been liberated.” Cut to 2018 and this call to arms from Gomez, who has since never stated if he is gay or not, the situation is as dire as ever. Being the only football player who has played in an array of Europe’s top five leagues to come out, former Aston Villa midfielder Thomas Hitzlsperger felt “he wanted to tell the world he was gay while he was still playing in Germany for Wolfsburg, but was advised against it” – according to an interview with German journalist Raphael Honigstein in 2014.

The overtly masculine and competitive nature of the sport means that any small piece of humanity or personality shown by a player results in ridicule by the press and opposing fans. Touching on Hitzlsperger’s experience of being a gay man in the blatantly heterosexual world of football – with its oppressions – Mario (Marcel Gisler, 2018) focuses acutely on the blossoming career of the titular Mario Lüthi (Max Hubacher). Whilst in the U21 squad of Swiss giants BSC Young Boys, he falls in love with their latest signing, Leon Saldo (Aaron Altaras). Complicating matters further, Mario and Leon both play in offensive positions and the pathway into the first team is only for a select few. Merging career ambition with a formative love relationship, this Swiss-Germanic production eventually conjures up some pathos after a slow start.

Shy and timid, Mario’s life is conjoined to the hip with football. In early pre-season where a professional focus is needed, the club transfer in Leon Saldo from Hannover 96’s U21 Academy. Strong, athletic and good-looking, Leon appears the perfect fit to be nurtured into the first team. Competing for the same spot, the two eventually form a prolific on-field relationship, leading the U21 squad towards league glory. Seeing the prospect held by both players, the Swiss club decide to room the two boys together, in an attempt to strengthen their on the field chemistry further. Consequentially, their off-field understanding grows into a shared love and understanding of one another. Seen by another team member kissing when away travelling to a game, the two must thus face the costs of sharing this twofold relationship.

Bringing a delicate edge to Mario, Max Hubacher, in moments, achieves a tenderness that feels fully realised. Contrasted against the confidence of Leon, the two work hold chemistry in periodic moments. Such instances occur after a long period of the film establishing its characters and mood. A juxtaposition of the dazzling heights of Goal! The Dream Begins (Danny Cannon, 2005), the world of a young upcoming footballer includes moments of loneliness, anxiety and resolve. Throughout its lengthy running time, the glamorous lives of Paul Pogba and Zlatan Ibrahimovic seem like galaxies away from the hard demands of continuous physical exercise and intense periods of nothingness. Talent is one thing, but the drive to succeed in a competitive environment is another aspect.

From the moment that rumours surrounding their relationship get out into the internal system at BSC Young Boys, Leon and Mario’s lives change forever. The clean almost corporate-like qualities possessed in the environments of the training ground work against the deeply personable relationships held between the two lovers. Accompanied by a shockingly suppressive meeting between the manager and club representative, Mario is informed that it would be best for him to be seen with a woman to suppress the rumours around him and Leon. This particular scene, alongside the final moments of the film, does unearth a sensitive soul to Mario. Regardless, the journey to these two specific moments lacks the eloquence apparent in other young LGBT tales as Maurice (James Ivory, 1987).

Addressing a key social and sporting subject that does not appear to be high on the agenda of Fifa or Uefa, Mario, through all this, is tragic in its few shining scenes. It is appropriate to suggest that the professionalism that radiates from its lead character impacts its stirring core. Credit where credit is due, however, I am sure solace and inspiration will be found from audience members and professional athletes who hold their sexuality as a closely guarded secret. Gisler and his team thankfully do not park the bus and come out against their subject matter in an assertive attacking manner. Still, it is void of the masterstroke that would be deployed by Pep Guardiola in footballing masterclass against Jose Mourinho.

Mario premiered at BFI Flare: LGBT Film Festival 2018 in March, when this piece was originally written. It’s out in cinemas on Friday, July 13th. It’s available on VoD and DVD from Friday, August 17th.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIGxpk9c-7U

Journeyman

Posted on by Alasdair Bayman

Appearing in a diverse array of acting roles in films from the likes of Submarine (Richard Ayoade, 2011) to Dead Man’s Shoes (Shane Meadows, 2004), Paddy Considine’s acting career is malleable to different moods and tones. After making the step up to director with the social realist Tyrannosaur (Paddy Considine, 2011), to which gained BAFTA’S 2012 ‘Outstanding Debut by a British Writer, Director or Producer’, he returns with a harder hitting piece, Journeyman.

A juxtaposition to atypical boxing films, Considine’s second feature as director, as well as writing and starring, goes past the point of a climactic fight. Selecting to focus his narrative towards the after effects of his fight with a younger, more arrogant fighter, Andre ‘The Future’ Bryte (Anthony Welsh), after retaining his title, Matty Burton collapses at home, thus suffering speech and motor impairment. Fighting to return to a healthy state for the sake of his loving wife Emma (Jodie Whittaker) and his baby girl Mia, Matty faces much more than having to deal with physical punches.

Embracing a similar colour palette and mood to Tyrannosaur, Considine, with the help of the innovative cinematographer Laurie Rose, tightens the emotional strands of his narrative in the initial scenes through mobile phone footage. Occurring just after his win for the world middleweight title, the expressions on Emma, Matty and his team are ones filled with pure delight. Absorbed in happiness, Matty poses for photos with his elderly father, who before his fight with Andre ‘The Future’ Bryte, passes away.

In the clean aesthetic of their house in Yorkshire, Emma and Matty’s relationship is as strong as his left-hand hook. Shining in the early moments, Considine’s script offers little flourishes of love between the couple, heightened by the two actor’s performances. Pivotal to believing in this world, the peak physical condition of the character, through the physique of the actor, was achieved through ‘’Dominic Ingle training me, who trains Kell Brook and Kid Galahad. It was a 10-12 week training camp, and I trained five times a week, sometimes six.’’

From the point Matty sustains his injuries, the glowing personality that the actor imbues into his protagonist disappears into thin air; only a shadow remains. The antithesis to Eddie Redmayne’s performance in The Theory of Everything (James Marsh, 2015), the impaired acting recalls the humility displayed by Benny Safdie in the kaleidoscopic Good Time (Josh and Benny Safdie, 2017). Aside from the magnetic performances given from Jodie Whittaker and Paddy Considine, the middle section of the script feels weighed down by the inevitable re-emergence of Matty’s friends and boxing team. Yielding a redemptive quality, the resurrection of his friendship with Jackie (Paul Popplewell) and Richie (Tony Pitts) feels too fictional, away from the veracity initially created.

Journeyman may leave you knocked out by its emotional weight or left standing after sucking up its emotive punches. Void of the magic touch present in Tyrannosaur, the film is a solid enough second hit for the directorial career of the writer and actor. Amongst audience and critics alike, it may float like a butterfly but lack the sting of a bee.

Journeyman was out in UK cinemas on March 30th. It’s out on VoD on Monday, July 23rd.

The Third Murder

Posted on by Alasdair Bayman

F ollowing his captivating examination of the family in After the Storm (2016), Hirokazu Koreeda continues his prolific form of one-film-a-year and delivers a multi-layered emotional tapestry in The Third Murder. Pre-dating the appearance of the title on screen, Misumi (Kôji Yakusho) commits the titular cardinal sin, whilst stealing the dead man’s wallet. Charged on the account of murder and robbery, his fate looks sealed until the prudent lawyer Shigemori (Masaharu Fukuyama) seeks to add truth to the matter. Retaining the familial themes that have imbued his works with a vibrant quality, whilst venturing to pastures green, Koreeda entrances you into the seams of his narrative; leaving one emotionally charged and contained.

Throughout, the murder which Misumi has committed only has one valid piece of evidence; his confession. Apart from the fact he worked at a canning factory owned by the man he killed, there is actually very little hard evidence to support Misumi committing murder. Shigemori is all too aware of this and proceeds to look beyond Misumi’s confession and study the actual narrative of the killing. Previous to Shigemori’s involvement, his father examined the case but was all too swift to jump towards the conclusion that the murder was all down to Misumi.

Working in a small team of four, Shigemori’s work relationship is imbued with a tender stroke by Koreeda. Replicating the narrative bonding act of eating noodles, which is so fundamental to the relationships in After the Storm, ingrains a delicate characteristic to the lead. Acting as a cathartic escape from the stresses of the murder case, such senses add levity towards the Noirish elements of Misumi’s brutal act of murder. The fine balance between light and dark tones is an artistic stroke of virtuosity from the director, resulting in a deep emotion investment to all the characters, regardless if they are criminals or not.

Similar to Our Little Sister (Hirokazu Koreeda, 2015) an exploration of young femininity is unearthed in Sakie (Suzu Hirose). The daughter of the man Misumi killed-or seemingly so- she is a vulnerable tender being. Operating to a level of secrecy towards Shigemori, the secrets of her father are uncovered through her. Hirose’s graceful pale faces furthers the progress of her character’s tenderness too.

Matching Misumi and Shigemori, Mikiya Takimoto’s CinemaScope camera fills their claustrophobic encounters in the holding cell with peculiar angles, occasionally merging the two men’s faces together or intimately. Recalling the aesthetics of Robby Müller’s cinematography in Wim Wender’s essential Paris, Texas (Wim Wenders, 1984), it is absorbing to witness.

Adding to an already impressive and varied filmography, Koreeda serves up a delightful slice of enthralling cinema. Akin to the varying genres explored by Francois Ozon from 8 Women (2002) to Frantz (2016) knows what field the Japanese director will operate in next. This interchangeable form of filmmaking is as good as it gets.

The Third Murder was out in UK cinemas in March. It’s out on VoD on Monday, July 16th. The director won the Palme d’Or in Cannes for his latest film Shoplifters, yet to be released in the UK and elsewhere.

Souvenir

Posted on by victorfraga

If you’re searching for a feel-good movie that’s somehow supposed to make you believe in love again, look no further. With a sheer dose of talent of the performers, Souvenir, the new film by French Bavo Defurne, opening in British cinemas, might just do the trick.

As far as screenplays go, we’ve got a pretty traditional one. Liliane (Isabelle Huppert) works in a paté factory who incidentally bumps upon Jean (Kevin Azais), a boxed with a passion for French chanson. He recognises her as Laura, a chanteuse that finished second in 1974 Eurovision Contest, and who fell into oblivion shortly after. He says he’s a fan and wants her to sing again, which she declines at first. She ends up singing in his boxing club and, despite the age gap, they form a relationship. Together, they decide to get her on top of the game again.

If it sounds like a typical boy-meets-girl with some age issues as dramatic seasoning, it’s because it is. The script doesn’t say anything new and it’s not purporting to, either. What eventually sells the piece is the ability of the filmmakers to tell its story in an efficient and believable way.

Just like in Elle (Paul Verhoeven, 2016), the significance of Huppert here cannot be overstated. She takes the beaten material to a new level, showing us a little of her rarely seen lighter side in the process. Known internationally for her portrait of steely French women, the actress gives a very moving carefree performance. He’s less likely to get any credit for it, but Azaïs doesn’t disappoint either, scoring points for making us root for a very naive character.

This very naïveté gives makes Souvenir charming. The protagonists fall for each other through the sound of their voices and in the delightful sequences when Jean finds himself in Liliane’s place.

What a coincidence that it hits British cinemas at exactly the same time as The Graduate (Mike Nichols, 1967) celebrates its 50th anniversary with a new release in cinemas. Where Nichols portrays a very cynical and predatory relationship between a young man and an older woman, Souvenir shows pretty much the opposite. Liliane might be as desperate as Ms. Robinson, but she’s hurt in a way that sex alone won’t fix her.

We can look for things beyond the romance, if we want to. There’s a lot of humour in the generation gap between the characters and a commentary on the sexism in the entertainment industry. When Liliane goes to her ex-husband and manager, Tony (Johan Leysen) for help, we see that he’s aged too, the difference is that he is wealthier and more successful at work.

People say that she stopped singing because of their divorce, something she even agrees with in public. Alone with Jean, however, she confesses that she didn’t stop and implies that people just didn’t care for her anymore. That such confession comes from the lips of Huppert, a steadily good actress with more than 40 years in the field, adds an extra dimension and taste to the movie. Souvenir is not about that, though. It’s about attraction and relationships that defy logic, and the personal growth that comes with them. Just like falling in love with an old tune for the first time.

Souvenir is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, June 23rd.

Click here for the review of our dirty favourite with Isabelle Huppert this year!

Happy End

Posted on by victorfraga

This was by far the most eagerly anticipated film of the 70th Cannes International Film Festival. That’s because Michael Haneke’s last two films L’Amour (2009) and The White Ribbon (2012) both received the Palme d’Or. Plus he received other major prizes at the event for The Piano Teacher (2001) and Hidden (2005). And this also he kick-started his international career exactly 20 years ago with Funny Games.

The stakes were very high and the anticipation was such that the Festival and the director refused to provide a synopsis of the film. The only information available until two days ago were a couple of pictures, a short extract (at the bottom of this article), the cast and a very succinct clue as to what the film may be: “All around us, the world, and we, in its midst, blind.”

Haneke has delivered yet another majorly bleak study of Europe and human being. It tells the story of a bourgeois family based in Calais. Anne Laurent (Haneke’s regular anti-superstar Isabelle Huppert) runs the family business because her father Georges (Jean-Louis Trintignant, pictured below) is too old and her son Pierre (Franz Rogowski) is too emotionally unstable. Her brother Thomas (Mathieu Kassovitz) has a wife, a mysterious lover and two children, including 13-year-old Eve (Fantine Harduin) – whose mother is in hospital in a comma after a suicide attempt.

Death and suicide are central themes of the film, and they seem affect nearly every character in one way or another. Taking away your own life look like the only feasible solution, the only possible “happy end” to these deeply trouble people. They are engulfed in the mediocrity of their vulgar wealth, their loveless relationships and their futile routines. Huppert is extremely effective as usual, even if her character is one of the least complex in the movie. The little Fantine Harduin is the star of the movie, conveying a sense of misery and gloom that is guaranteed haunt you. Jean-Louis Trintignant is also very convincing in the role of the patriarch losing not just his desire to live but also his connection to the real world, as dementia begins to set in.

The first sequence of the movie will upset animal lovers, and I’m still not sure how it was done (whether the animal was harmed or killed in the making). One way or the other, it’s very realistic, and it sets the tone for the movie very early on: this is going to a deadly ride.

The socio-political commentary is also there. It is no coincidence that the film takes place in Calais, located in one of only two departments where Marine Le Pen beat Emmanuel Macron in the second round of the French presidential elections this month, and also where thousands of refugees are located. These largely unwelcomed aliens, who were often the subject of Le Pen’s rabid campaigning platform, make a very inconvenient appearance in a crucial moment of the film.

While effective as both a socio-political and emotional statement, Happy End feels a little trite if you are familiar with Haneke’s filmography and cinematic trademarks. It tries to recycle old devices without adding anything new. You will recognise the twisted sexuality of The Piano Teacher, the obsession with capturing banal actions on camera of Hidden and a very central element of Amour (which I can’t mention without spoiling the movie). In a nutshell, Happy End is a little too ambitious and not fresh enough.

Happy End was very well received, but it did not take the Palme d’Or home (which would be the Austrian director’s third). I wasn’t rooting for it. Haneke needs to come up with more original devices before taking receiving the highest prize in the film festival world for the third time.

This piece was originally written during the Cannes International Film Festival in May. The film premieres in the UK during the 61st BFI London Film Festival, taking place from October 5th to 15th. It is finally out in cinemas on Friday, December 1st.

Jeune Femme

Posted on by victorfraga

We all know a crazy little bitch. She might be dormant inside you or she might be living next door. But she’s not very far. You are guaranteed to recognise her in Paula (Laetitia Dosch), a young female living in Paris and suffering a mental breakdown. Of course you will wish you will never meet someone like her. She is prone to fits, violent outbursts and absurd philosophical rants. She’s the kind of person you’d rather not date, be friends or even engage in a small conversation.

The paradox of freedom prevails in Paula’s life: she shudders with fear every time she’s confronted with the notion that “she’s free to do whatever she wants”. This freedom suffocates her.

The young and pretty Paula has just been ditched by her boyfriend, she doesn’t have any close friends and she has never worked in her life. She doesn’t talk to her estranged mother, and her father is dead. The only company she enjoys is her cat. She’s so desperate for love and attention that she pretends to be someone else to a stranger on the train, hoping to strike up an instant friendship.

The first-time director Léonor Serraille finds humour in her dysfunctional behaviour, which includes smashing her head against doors and mirrors, and screaming outside her former boyfriend building at night. The girl is hopeless!

Or not! Against all odds, Paula manages to pull herself together and miraculously lands a job in a shop selling knickers plus working as a nanny, despite having no references at all. She slowly begins to turn her life around, embracing new sexual experiences and even making new friends. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all.

Paula is an allegory of how anonymous life in big cities such as Paris can be (or “incognito”, as a atrsnger explains to her), and how loneliness can lead to mental health problems. And most importantly: how our society often isn’t prepared to deal with people with such problems, and how we urgently need to work on our sense of solidarity and compassion. Jeune Femme is a very effective tale of urban life malaise, plus a lighthearted study of a mental breakdown, with excellent acting and a sturdy hand at the helm. I would hazard a guess that the filmmaker has a very promising future ahead.

Jeune Femme showed at the 70th Cannes International Film Festival in 2017, as part of the Un Certain Regard section – this is when this piece was originally written. It is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, May 18th (2018). On Mubi in June/July 2020.

Graduation (Bacalaureat)

Posted on by victorfraga

The renowned Brazilian composer Caetano Veloso famously compared Brazil and Haiti in one of his songs. The song says “Haiti is here. Haiti is not here”, and then it describes an educational plan for the country that could miraculously extinguish corruption. This week internationally acclaimed director Cristian Mungiu (4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, 2007) returns with a universal study of corruption in Romania, also proposing a solution to the problem. It is as if he reinvented Veloso in a film: “Romania is here”.

Graduation reveals a father-daughter relationship in the moment when Eliza (Maria-Victoria Dragus) is about to graduate and to leave Romania in order to study in the UK. She still needs to do her finals and achieve a very high average so that she can get the scholarship and study abroad. The problem is that one day before her exams, she is raped on her way to school. Her father Romeo (Adrian Titieni), a physician living in a small town in Transylvania, will do everything he can in order to support his daughter overcome the trauma and succeed in her exams.

Mungiu believes that the only way to change society is through education. “But we are passing the wrong values to our children.” So how can society change? For him, “Romania needs a collective solution”. His character Romeo is trying to help his daughter to make the right choices than he couldn’t make. Romeo’s position is that “the UK is a more civilised society”. He doubts his daughter will suffer the same violence in Britain. Romeo’s mother, on the other hand, thinks her granddaughter should stay. There is only hope for a change if young people stay in Romania.

graduationmungiu2

The dialogue about living or leaving is developed throughout the 128 minutes of the film. In order to build a close and psychological portrait of each character, the filmmaker opts mostly for close and medium shots. There are very few wide shots, except in the end, when the film reveals the borders of Romania. The idea behind the story is that there is probably no exit.

The landscape is also very meaningful. The building where the family lives is in a suburban communal palace – a kind of Peckham Rye Council flat and widespread neighbourhood. The train line invades the property loft; there is not even a fence dividing the train tracks and the back of the palace. Romeo is following a person who threw a stone into his window and he stops suddenly 2 meters from the train tracks. He is nearly run over.

In a sense, the Graduation is a microcosm of Romanian society, where abuse, invasion and corruption know no bounds. The fact that Romeo almost never answers his mobile is another aspect of “invasion”. Presumably as a doctor, Romeo must get many calls in from patients. He doesn’t turn off the mobile. It is always vibrating. There is no exit and he cannot stop.

All actors are formidable, and Mungiu is a fine and confident director who deserved the Best Director Ex-Aequo award last year in Cannes. The prize was shared with Olivier Assayas, whose interview you can read here.

Cristian Mungiu will oversee the student and short film juries at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. The Cinéfondation selects between 15 and 20 student films each year for its competition. You can read more about Cinéfondation in Cannes here. Rest assured that Mungiu will be an inspiring tutor!

Graduation was out in cinemas in March, and it has now been made available on DVD and Blu-ra.

Akron

Posted on by victorfraga

Set in present-day Akron, in the American state of Ohio, this film presents the romance between two university students Benny (Matthew Frias) and Christopher (Edmund Donovan). They meet in a sports field and swiftly become deeply infatuated with each other, and both of their families are very enthusiastic and supportive of their romance. It feels like the perfect romance between two charming, irresistible and loving young men, until a tragedy from the past resurfaces to haunt them.

Christopher’s mother had accidentally run over Benny’s brother with her car in a parking lot roughly 15 years earlier. Christopher was inside the car and Benny also witnessed the event, but they were both very young and their recollection is very vague. On the other hand, Benny’s mother struggles to forgive and forget the horrific day when she lost one of her sons.

Akron is a film about how difficult Americans find to accept death, to forgive and to move on with their private lives. Benny’s mother is a reasonable, kind and loving person, but she is just unable to cope with the fact that her son’s partner is somehow linked to the tragic accident. In the documentary Where to Invade Next (2015), Michael Moore noted while interviewing the father of a victim of Anders Behring Breivik (who conducted a mass shooting in Oslo in 2011) that Americans struggle to forget the past. The American director is bemused that the Norwegian man has come to terms with the death of his son and is not campaigning for death penalty or reparations. Benny’s mother is not seeking money or revenge; she is simply unable to mend her heart and let her son have a relationship with Christopher.

Akron is a film about pain and reconciliation.

A remarkable feature in Akron is that homosexuality is presented as entirely acceptable feature of American society. There is not a scintilla of homophobia or sexual intolerance, not even in passing. While refreshing, this at times comes across as contrived and unnatural. Not because homosexuality is unnatural, but instead because such level of acceptance is hardly credible. Akron is subversive in a reverse way: by presenting an alternative sexuality as a fully integrated and commoditised lifestyle.

While at times a little too melodramatic, the two directors Brian O’Donnell and Sasha King – who are also partners – created a beautiful film with overall good performances and an engaging script. It may feel futile and petit bourgeois to LGBT audiences in other countries facing much more serious problems (such as violence and even death) than a mother’s soul-searching, but Akron still delivers good moments and an examination of possibilities of reconciliation.

Akron was part of the 30th BFI Flare London LGBT Film Festival in 2016, when this piece was originally written. The film has now been made available on BFI Player – just click here for more information.