Post by StevePulaski on Feb 22, 2017 0:18:46 GMT -5
Sing (2016)
Directed by: Kristóf Deák
Directed by: Kristóf Deák
Dorka Gáspárfalvi in Sing.
Rating: ★★★
Set in 1990s Budapest, Kristóf Deák's Sing revolves around a young girl named Zsófi (Dorka Gáspárfalvi), who moves to the community with hopes to excel in the acclaimed choir that her prestigious elementary school has boasted for years. However, Zsófi becomes disillusioned with herself and her skills when her strict music instructor (Zsófia Szamosi) encourages her to "mime" instead of sing the songs that they practice every week, especially as their first big concert nears. Zsófi becomes fast friends with Liza (Dorottya Hais), another girl in choir, whom she conceals the information about her having to lip-sync during practice until the two devise a plan to get revenge on their judgmental and unfair instructor.
Sing presents a tough lesson for young children in a minor but still significant way. It essentially shows how you can have the desire to perform well at something, but no matter how hard you practice, you'll still come up short or inferior to your peers, in a way that completely defies that cloying motto you've heard all your life - "practice makes perfect." Sing also shows you how kids make the best allies and confidants, with Zsófi and Liza's relationship blossoming over the course of twenty-five minutes.
The ending may be a bit too cute, but it's cute enough to work, and Sing is effective in the way it portrays youth as deceptively smart, even if they may not be as talented as we'd like them to be.
Starring: Dorka Gáspárfalvi, Zsófia Szamosi, and Dorottya Hais. Directed by: Kristóf Deák.
Silent Nights (2016)
Directed by: Aske Bang
Directed by: Aske Bang
A Ghana refugee (Prince Yaw Appiah) meets his girlfriend's (center, Malene Beltoft) mother in Silent Nights.
Rating: ★★★
Aske Bang's short film Silent Night wouldn't be as memorable, or even as commendable, if America, or the world, in a broader sense, wasn't in such a massively polarized state at the moment. Mention the word "immigrants" or "refugees" in any political circle and you've ignited a hot-button issue with no clear-cut conclusion.
One of the biggest things films can serve as are empathy machines and that's precisely what Silent Nights serves as, in all its troubling and upsetting detail. The film revolves around a homeless Ghanaian man named Kwame (Prince Yaw Appiah), who has sought refuge in Denmark in order to get some money to support his family. He develops a relationship with Inger (Malene Beltoft), a woman working at a local Salvation Army, which serves mostly refugees, while caring for her ailing mother. The two strike a relationship predicated upon different things; Kwame recognizes Inger's desire to do well by the people she comes across in her life, even if he doesn't always reciprocate to her, and Inger recognizes the complexities of Kwame's situation. This makes her sympathize with him when he's caught stealing from the Salvation Army, which leads to her boss subsequently banning him from the premises.
Silent Nights is aggressively sentimental, absolutely, and at times overly preachy. "Racism is present in people everywhere," claims Inger's boss shortly after she comes to Kwame's aid when he's being viciously attacked by a group of men. That's the perfect example of a line that a better, more formidable short would've been able to properly and effectively convey without having to say it in a scene where contrived dialog hijacks the screenplay.
However, Silent Nights works as a film that humanizes those who have been maligned, shortchanged, massively generalized, or simply used as a scapegoat in the media as of late. Certain moments of the short warrant they tears they will more than likely inspire, an the performances, particularly Prince Yaw Appiah's, who refuses to get emotional even in the scenes where you most expect him to do so, elevate this project to commendable heights in the end.
Starring: Malene Beltoft and Prince Yaw Appiah. Directed by: Aske Bang.
Timecode (2016)
Directed by: Juanjo Giménez
Directed by: Juanjo Giménez
Lali Ayguadé.
Rating: ★★
Timecode is a light-hearted short, set in a small security station where two guards spend the majority of the film exchanging their post and leaving each other some silliness to pass the time.
Luna (Lali Ayguadé) works the day shift, while Diego (Nicolas Ricchini) does the night shift. During their time over the course of many slow days, the two leave one another Post-It notes with precise time-stamps that show one another dancing by themselves, effectively serenading one another despite not being able to be in the presence of one another. The short does a fine job at quietly asking us what we do and how do we behave when we know others are watching - even if those others may not be standing even a few feet away from us - and the admirably minimalist narrative allows for moments or instances to leave the most memorable impacts.
And yet, Timecode fell short for me, largely because it's as redundant as it is vapid on anything other than a surface level. In contrast to Silent Nights, it may not show the aggressive emotion and sentimentality present in that very short, but it sure knew how to handle it when the times came. Timecode doesn't seem to want to risk anything, and as a result, wades in the water for nearly all of its fifteen minutes.
Starring: Lali Ayguadé and Nicolas Ricchini. Directed by: Juanjo Giménez.
Ennemis intérieurs (2016)
Directed by: Sélim Azzazi
Directed by: Sélim Azzazi
Hassam Ghancy in Ennemis intérieurs.
Rating: ★★★½
Over the course of its twenty-seven minute runtime, Ennemis intérieurs features about twenty-two minutes, I would say, of extremely unsettling interrogation. The film pits two men on opposite ends of the table, one is the interrogator (Najib Oudghiri), a police officer responsible for questioning immigrants who want to enter France, while the other is the man who wants to enter France as an Algerian man (Hassam Ghancy). Of course, this power dynamic represents more than a simple interrogation because it forces the French-born cop to consider France's history with the nations it colonized, Algeria being one of them.
Set in the 1990s, all the officer has to do is sign a form granting the Algerian man permission to enter and inhabit France as a citizen, but it's more complicated than that. This man's checkered history might include him having ties to terrorist or potentially problematic individuals. It also might motivate the officer to do some blackmailing on the poor man, even as he breathlessly answers each and every one of the interrogator's personal questions.
Ennemis intérieurs, like Silent Nights, comes at a time where immigration, Islamophobia, and vague buzzwords like "extreme vetting" make up much of the political rhetoric. Writer/director Sélim Azzazi creates a short film that doesn't feel the need to touch on sentimentality, but instead how ugly the immigration process can be without waterboarding or other kinds of theatrics. Shot with poised, sharply framed angles that often focus on the side-profiles of the male characters - almost like a mugshot - and mindful of its surmounting suspense with each passing question, Ennemis intérieurs at least makes those who cry for "legal immigration," and even those who demand unrestricted borders, to have some deeper consideration.
Starring: Hassam Ghancy and Najib Oudghiri. Directed by: Sélim Azzazi.
La Femme et le TGV (2016)
Directed by: Timo von Gunten
Directed by: Timo von Gunten
Jane Birkin in La Femme et le TGV.
Rating: ★★½
Elise (Jane Birkin) is a woman with desperately little to look forward to. A slightly bitter, elderly Swedish woman, the brightest moments of her day come at 6:18am, about thirteen minutes after she rises, where she happily waves a flag at the passing TGV train outside of her home. It's her moment of excitement. An unbridled moment of exhilaration in which she has presumably engaged for years. One day, she receives a letter from a man named Bruno, who has noticed her from the train each and every day. The two strike an amiable relationship through simple notes written to one another, and it becomes apparent that Elise is given something to live for that stretches beyond a few seconds of happiness every day.
Maybe she waves because she's giving those with more crowded and hectic lives the love and encouragement they so desperately need. Maybe she's just a humbly kind woman of small pleasures. Either way, her character in La Femme et le TGV is likable even when she isn't, in the kind of grandmotherly sense where even when you believe she's wrong, you can't help yourself but trust her. Jane Brikin clearly feels comfortable in her role as Elise for whatever reason. Maybe she sees herself as appreciative of the same small and elusive pleasures as Elise. Maybe she's happy to be part of an enjoyable little short.
While La Femme et le TGV goes on a bit too long (thirty minutes) for what little it is, it's a pleasantly sweet diversion about one unique diversion, and a bit more positive when put in context of the other Oscar-nominated live action shorts of this year. It reminded me of how I react when I see a train pass, either from my car or from the station itself. I acknowledge its existence, I might even smile if I'm in a particular mood, but I'm not sure I'll find myself remembering it or the moods I had while watching it even a few months from now.
Starring: Jane Birkin. Directed by: Timo von Gunten.