“Art must take reality by surprise.” — Francoise Sagan, Playwright
It’s hard to find films that offer something new. Hollywood is big business, and like all corporate businesses, many decisions are based on risk. New things are risky and making movies is one of the riskiest. But as with everything driven mostly by the pursuit of profit and efficiency, there’s always a hefty price to pay. The sacrifices made usually reveal themselves in the quality of the end product but also in the process of making films (i.e. the work). The greatest worry, of course, is that the craft itself could be damaged, as viewers lose the ability to make the distinction between good and bad filmmaking.
But there’s always hope, for artists are forever finding new ways to work around obstacles. The following movies in this segment of my continuing series of Favorite Films give evidence of that. All of them are fairly new and offer surprises to the audience both in plot and visceral experience. They give us something to look forward to in a time when new movies feel more dated – more tired and worn out — than older ones. These are exceptions to the rule of stale formulas and mindless sequels so common in the movie industry today.
Chan Wook Park’s latest film The Handmaiden is a stunner. Astounding costumes, set designs and cinematography all enhance the atmosphere that delights the palette. The film is buoyed by two excellent performances from actresses Kim Tae-Ri and Cho Jin-Woong, who play mistress-servant roles that gets all tangled up in an elaborate and deceitful game of seduction. Based loosely on Sarah Water’s novel Fingersmith, the film is set in the 1930’s and captures the sumptuous Victorian designs and influence in Japanese-occupied Korea. In a world of secrecy and privilege, we witness a young girl’s nocturnal adventures — much of the film takes place in the dark — as she takes on the job as the handmaiden to a wealthy heir, the beautifully young yet lonely Lady Hideko. Since I wish not to give anything away, Park’s film sums up to a beautiful yet thrilling erotic experience — a deep character study thrusted into a period piece with stunning literary allusions. Already acclaimed for his magnificent and shocking thrillers such as Old Boy and Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance, The Handmaiden is by far his most deviously-intelligent and visually stunning film, one filled with surprises at every turn.
I love Wes Anderson’s “fantasy” films (such as The Grand Budapest Hotel and The Fantastic Mr. Fox). They manage to portray with more sincerity and freshness the truths of human (or in this case, canine) life than most “serious” dramas. Using simple caricatures and one-point perspective camera compositions, Anderson intrigues the audience constantly with his visual and narrative choices; you never quite know where he’s going but you can’t help but follow. In Isle of Dogs he takes it to another level. Set in Japan, it’s a story about a 12-year old boy named Atari who sets off alone in search of his bodyguard dog Spots whom he believes may have been sent to a garbage dump called Trash island. There, numerous canines have been exiled by government decree due to an outbreak blamed on the popular four-legged companions. Featuring voices by Anderson regulars like Bill Murray, Jeff Goldblum and Edward Norton, it also introduces new contributions by Bryan Cranston and Scarlet Johansson, who together play a bunch of misfit canines who help the young human protagonist navigate the land to find his dog. The film is, in many ways, mentally challenging to the audience. Anderson stays true to Japanese culture while also leaving much of the language expressed in its native tongue. This makes it difficult to follow at times. But it’s not only worth it, it’s part of the experience of venturing into the unknown, just like in real life. At its heart Isle of Dogs is a novel adventure that emphasizes without preaching the value of friendship, loyalty and is an ode to our love of dogs.
Director Damien Chazelle, who also wrote the screenplay, has made a small but electric gem with Whiplash. Featuring a magnificently intelligent and physical performance from J.K. Simmons who plays demanding music instructor Terence Fletcher, the film literally whips you back and forth just as he does to its main character Andrew Neiman played by Miles Teller. It’s a simple story of a young jazz musician whose ambitions to become one of the “greats” lead him to push all things in his life out of the way, including his sleep, his relationships, his mental-emotional health and, perhaps, even his own dignity. Neiman does all of this willingly. Seeing his potential, Fletcher invites the freshman drummer into his elite music conservatory, a group of artists who compete just as harshly against each other as with themselves just to be there. But Fletcher is a mean, ruthless and abusive mentor even if he’s one who’s self-aware; his hope is to force just one of these young musicians to reach their full potential and he makes no apologies for how he does it. True to his passions, Neiman delivers an intensity and drive that matches his teacher but things twist and turn as quickly as Fletcher’s temper. I loved every minute of this movie and it culminates into a final scene that’s emotionally breathtaking for every passionate artist who’s out there watching.
French writer/director Mattheiu Delaporte has created a surprisingly suspenseful film. It’s never easy making mysteries and this one is original and highly unpredictable. Starring Mathieu Kassovitz as the meticulous yet bored real-estate agent Sebastien Nicolas, the film leads off with a strange yet sombre opening — Sebastien makes a final phone call just before he commits suicide by blowing up his entire apartment. What follows is the mystery as to what makes a man do what he does, and it is in this journey that we learn about Sebastien Nicolas, a man who leads a double life by impersonating strangers whom he has just met. After following his insane adventures — which reveal the skill and meticulous preparations as well as the risks he takes — we find our protagonist at a crossroads. After nearly getting exposed for his latest shenanigans, Sebastien decides to call it quits. That is, until he meets a reclusive violin virtuoso, Henri de Montalte (also played by Kassovitz) who presents to him his most challenging role yet. But in impersonating the retired musician he gets sucked in deeper than ever in the double life as he engages de Montalte’s ex-lover and her child. What plays out is not what’s expected and both Delaporte’s direction and Kossovitz’s incredibly seamless and chameleon-like performance is perfect — we are so convinced by the character’s behaviour we forget who is being fooled here. This is a modern mystery that brilliantly makes us wonder about how we see the world as well as how we see ourselves including the various parts and identities we play in life.
Romance movies are some of the most predictable films made, not just in Hollywood, but everywhere on this planet. But here, in Ritesh Batra’s beautiful little film The Lunchbox, the tale is told in a fresh and often surprisingly whimsical manner. The premise is simple; lonely young housewife Ila (Nimrat Kuar) decides to re-ignite the romance in her marriage by making a special lunch for her husband but due to a rare mistake by the food delivery company — a very popular service in India — the lunchbox ends going to another man, Sajaan Fernandez (Irrfan Khan). The swapping of lunchboxes ends up creating the most unexpected of situations as her magnificent lunch delights the palette of the stranger while her neglectful husband gets even more turned off by the standard fare that was ordered by Fernandez. For some reason the lunchboxes continue to get mis-delivered but Ila doesn’t even bother to question it anymore as her marriage continues to fade just as she begins to develop this unusual relationship with Sajaan, a dutiful yet prickly accountant who’s about to retire. The chemistry between the two actors feels magical even though they never share a screen together. Irrfan Khan’s performance is as sublime as always, underplayed and lasting with depth and intelligence. Kuar’s Ila is beautiful and, in her confusion with both her newfound relationship with Sajaan and the overarching purpose of her life, she reveals a vulnerablity that invites empathy. Batra’s The Lunchbox is a film that reveals the beauty of strangeness — the kind of wondrous peculiarity that’s on the brink of extinction in a world dominated by modern living — and it’s beautifully expressed here by the metaphorical exchange of hand-written letters.
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