DVD Review: Mirror

Director: Andrei Tarkovsky
Screenplay by: Aleksandr Misharin, Andrei Tarkovsky, Arseniy Tarkovskiy (poems – uncredited)
Starring: Margarita Terekhova, Filipp Yankovskiy, Ignat Daniltsev
Country: Soviet Union
Running Time: 105 min
Year: 1975
BBFC Certificate: U


My planned journey through the work of the great Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky continues with his fourth feature, Mirror (a.k.a. The Mirror or Zerkalo). I skipped Andrei Rublev because I’d already seen it and with its epic length I figured I had enough on my plate with the other six of his films Artificial Eye are re-releasing on DVD and Blu-Ray in the UK. I should hopefully be covering Solaris soon – it was made after Mirror, but I’m reviewing these in the order in which they’re being re-released.

Mirror unfolds as a series of memories, as a dying man, Aleksei (voiced by Innokentiy Smoktunovskiy), recalls his childhood, particularly time with his mother, as well as his relationship with his wife/partner and son, and other moments in his life which stood out. It’s supposedly quite a personal work for the director, touching on some aspects of his own life. His father provides the poetry read out over various scenes too. The history of Russia during the time of his life is supposedly examined, but my knowledge of this is minimal so this aspect was lost on me.

So, as the description probably alludes, the film reminded me a lot of Tree of Life. Like Terrence Malick’s film, this eschews an obvious narrative for a collection of fragments of life in all its forms – love, fear, sadness, joy, albeit without the dinosaurs and big bang sequences. In particular, Mirror examines how those around us (largely our parents) help make us what we are, possibly more than we do ourselves, and how our actions affect our children’s lives and personalities. These themes are particularly prevalent due to the fact that the focus of most of the scenes seem to be on Aleksei’s mother, wife and occasionally son, more than on the man himself.

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Cinecast Episode 448 – Why You Gonna Call? 

Even with a hiccup or two in the technical side of the show, we manage to pull it off thanks to our guest Courtney Small of Cinema Axis for dropping by. Andrew and Courtney spend some time talking about what we both consider to be the best film of the year so far, and that is OJ: MADE IN AMERICA. After that, Kurt is able to get a break From the madness of Fantasia Film Festival and join us for some talk on the new GHOSTBUSTERS film from Paul Feig. The Watch List includes some other current theatrical stuff, some festival stuff and revisiting of older stuff. So, lots of stuff.

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As always, please join the conversation by leaving your own thoughts in the comment section below and again, thanks for listening!

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Fantasia 2016 Review: The Rupture

“Don’t fight it. Let it happen. This confusion is all part of the process.”

This advice is repeated, often in a beatific manner, by the mysterious group of captors who are intent on, among other things, helping the audience navigate the actual film. It has been a decade since Seven Shainberg’s previous film, Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus. He returns once again to defy expectations with, Rupture, a tight indie horror picture that poses big questions in a claustrophobic package.

Beleaguered single mom Renee is on the cusp of a get away from it all weekend, a skydiving trip with her girlfriend. After struggling with her son to get his homework done and drop him off at his father’s house, on the cusp of her weekend of freedom, her car is run off the road and she ends up strapped to a medical gurney in a laboratory compound in the middle of nowhere. In an alternating series of uncomfortable mind games by the mysterious cult of captors, and various escape attempts by Renee – who shows signs of impressive resilience under pressure – the film finds its rhythm in the three loud clacks of the heavy-door lock mechanism opening and closing between visits.

Noomi Rapace, an unconventional leading lady who often serves a spry chameleon on camera is no stranger to body horror. She endured one of the most wince-inducing sequences in recent mainstream cinema, namely the Xenomorph hysterectomy in Ridley Scott’s Prometheus. This might have been a key reason for her casting as the resourceful Renee, who blossoms, in her way, as she is seriously fucked with, both mentally and physically, by her captors. She is restrained, caressed, cajoled, subjected mercilessly to her worst fear (arachnophobes beware, Rupture would make a skin-crawly double bill with Dennis Villeneuve’s Enemy) and bears witness to scenes that would not be out of place in a Saw sequel.

Shainberg’s approach is to keep the body horror in kind of a mellow holding pattern (shades of his S&M approach in 2002’s Secretary). He wants us to wallow in Renee’s predicament without the kind of transparent gamesmanship typically involved in these sorts of genre pictures. We are allowed time to consider some of the questions the film asks, while the ‘nuclear-candy’ colour palette keeps our baser visual senses simulated. Cinematographer Karim Hussain pushes the envelope of his neon-carnival-nightmare work on Hobo With A Shotgun, by wedding it to the more subtle frame composition of something like 12 Angry Men. As Renee’s world is forced into ever smaller spaces, so too does the camera, which becomes lubricated with sweat and blood to allow for the squeeze. Some of this careful work is undermined by a few moments of picture-breaking CGI, which took me out of the movie hard enough to think about the wrong question, “was there a simpler, better way to show a certain key image?”

Nevertheless, Shainberg and his co-writer, Brian Nelson use the frame-work of an ‘escape-room’ narrative to probe the extremes of the human condition. How fear and trauma can destroy, but under particularly delicate circumstances, it can also temper towards greatness. Rapace is game with what the filmmakers are aiming to put her through, and she is ably supported (or rather manipulated) by a rogues gallery of top performers including Peter Stormare, Lesley Manville and Michael Chiklis, all of whom chew the scenery on Qualuudes. Are they aliens, religious nuts, government think-tank operatives, or highly resourced self-help enthusiasts? In the end the reasons matter less than one might think. In this kind of filmmaking, it is all the same process, only Shainberg bends things towards his own idiosyncratic ends.

Fantasia 2016 Review: Terraformars

I learned something from filmmaker Edgar Wright a long time ago, when he presented Riki-Oh! The Story of Ricky. There is a certain kind of narrative silliness in screenwriting that can only be labelled a ‘Why didn’t they do that in the first place?’ movie. Takashi Miike’s Manga adapted bug-hunt on Mars, Terraformars is ridiculous, grotesquely violent, card-board thin on both premise and characterization, and is a delightful second only to Riki-Oh, as exemplar of kind of film.

For several hundred years, the government has been terraforming Mars for colonization by importing significant amounts of moss and cockroaches to kick-start a biosphere and an ecosystem. Now that the planet is has the right climate for human habitation, there is the problem of getting rid of the bugs. To do this, a shady Tokyo executive, with an acute hair and fashion sense, is charged with hiring the scum of the earth – Yakuza, serial killers, illegal immigrants, teen prostitutes (!), hackers, and crooked cops – to eliminate the infestation on mars. This being a Japanese science fiction film, they are of course turned into a transforming (a play on the title Terraformars) Sentai team, each with their own special super-attack and wikipedia introduction screenshot. You see, the bug problem is one of hyper-accelerated evolution, these are not trillions of tiny little squash-able critters that run from the light, but a more movie-friendly problem of highly evolved CGI super-roach-men that exist on the surface in hordes. This explanation is almost redundant, because the movie is content with reams of exposition to everything, important or not, two or three times, in the very definition of goofy excess; a recent Miike tic, that has evolved out of control not unlike the bugs here.

Miike’s Sukiyaki Django Western was, at its core, about story and image appropriation from one country to another, he’s done his fair share of remakes (including 13 Assassins and Hara-Kiri) and his recent action nail-biter, Shield of Straw cheerfully pilfered the style and rhythm of Tony Scott. With Terraformars it is wholesale image-thievery of the science fiction of Ridley Scott.

The film opens in a Tokyo-sprawl version of Bladerunner (complete with the police driving flying Spinners), before moving into the aesthetics and plot points of Alien, Prometheus and even The Martian. No matter though, much of the homage remains second fiddle to Miike’s signature anarchy of ultra-violence. He has a CGI generated army of bugs that he can use as a World War Z zombie horde, a Power Rangers group melee, or a Street Fighter II one-on-one tango.

Interspersed throughout are Lost-styled flashbacks for the rogues gallery of ‘heroes.’ Some of these are distracting, because character motivation seems not the point here, but most of them are mercifully short, and the films nearly two hour runtime is not as punishing as many Manga adaptations.

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After the Credits Episode 193: Littlest Hobo Media Spew – June

Outcast; a possession thriller done right

Outcast; a possession thriller done right

Colleen is still MIA (something to do with a job that is making her super tired) so Dale (Letterboxd) and I (Letterboxd) forge ahead without her to talk about some of the stuff we’ve been enjoying of late – from the tube and all the great stuff currently on TV to what we’ve been reading and listening to.

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After the Hype #148 – Deadpool

postbanner2DEADPOOL

 

We’re joined by special guests Matt Lantrip and Chris Ortiz to discuss the Merc With A Mouth. That’s right, we’re talking DEADPOOL. No, not THAT Deadpool. The good one where his mouth isn’t sewn shut and he shoots lasers out of his eyes. This is the one where Negasonic Teenage Warhead steals all her scenes without speaking. THAT Deadpool. Chimichangas.

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Sunday Video Essay: The Darjeeling Ltd.

Everyone has a favorite Wes Anderson movie – or some just don’t like any of them. But for those that love to argue about which is his best, the only way you can be wrong is if you haven’t seen them all at least twice. Almost no other director is as auteur as Wes Anderson in my mind… OK, maybe Almodóvar, Wes Anderson is auteur in not just visuals, tones and style. He auteur in that his films (all of them; yes, even Fantastic Mr. Fox) take at least two viewings to fully take in. Love them or hate them, I insist you give them each a fair shake. And by fair shake I mean watch it again.

This fellow sticks by his Darjeeling Limited love. And I can support that. Even though Tenenbaums is still my personal favorite. Enjoy this defense piece Adrien Brody, Jason Schwartzman and Owen Wilson, starring in Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited.