Who can kill a child? (1976)

I doubt that anyone knows what to do with the film Who can kill a child. While I saw it in a micro-cinema in Brooklyn, the audience reacted in two ways: some seemed confused, while others just chuckled, revealing their appreciation of underground horror film with quirky storylines. I don't know. Sometimes I was as disturbed by the chucklers as I was by the film, which in itself is pretty disturbing, even though more violent films have been made. Maybe it's be beginning of the movie in relation to the rest that is so unnerving. We see rueful scenes from concentration camps and wars - in all these violent situations, a narrator tells us in Brittish English, children are victims. The plot of the film starts off with two Brittish tourists lolling around on the streets of a small Spanish town. They are to travel to an island off the beaten track. There are rumors that strange things are going on there. The Brittish couple keep up their cheerful tourist attitude while exploring the island, only to find that it seems rather deseted, except for some children. Things get creepy. They go into a bar to find something to eat. The bar is empty too. A child comes into the room, and we see that something is the matter with the kid. Soon enough we "know". Or really, we don't know. What we know is that the kids on the island have turned into brutal murderers and killed off the adults. ---- Gore, you sigh. But wait, the thing that makes this film so peculiar is how quiet it is. Mostly, nothing much happens, but we all feel a deep dread in our stomachs. The camera slowly tracks the two main characters in ther confused "tour" of the island. It's a horror movie that has more in common with Rosemary's baby and the Birds than Texas Chainsaw Massacre. What is the point? Are the children taking revenge on the adults? Are we to get a new, more sinister perception of children? Like I said: I don't know.

Tomboy (2010)

Céline Sciamma's Tomboy is a bittersweet tale about a ten-year old kid who grows up to realize that she lives in a highly gendered world. Laure moves to a new place with parents and little sister. S/he goes out to play and meets Lisa, who soon becomes friends with - Mikael. Laure hangs out with the other kids, plays football and games. They think Mikael is a cool boy and a tough kid (Laure beats up the child who was unkind to her/his sister). What we have here is a simple story about what it is to be young. The film manages to capture those awfully fragile moments of being hurt and insecure - it is rather moving actually. It deals with gender in a clear, but no simplistic, way. We are shown a set-up where gender matters, where small boys play football with each other, while the girls are offered the role of spectators. A quiet boy like Mikael soon earns the badge "you are not like the other boys". It's a sad, heartbreaking story, always told gracefully without being blunt or trying to make things easy. I also admire the film for letting kids be kids, with silly stunts, small gestures and big gestures. The film speaks from the children's perspective, and not the perspective of adults who think they have all the answers. The adults in the film, for a start, don't. I have rarely seen a more moving portrait of the relation between parents and children. We have the father who lets his kid be - he loves her unconditionally. The mother has obvious problems with the kid's "conforming" and this is one of the few places on film where an adult is so clearly also feeling like a scared child, with all the messy emotions that involves. Sciamma really brings out the vulnerability that many situations contain, the vulnerability of not knowing what a situation has turned one into, and the vulnerability expressed by people who think they know. It's a beautiful little film. You should see it.

Nachtschichten (2010)

I once saw a documentary about Copenhagen at night. Maybe I've seen a similar one depicting the activities of Stockholm after dark. I remember I thought these films catered too generously to our expectations of what a film about the urban night should be like. Last week, I headed to Anthology film center to see whether Ivette Löcker's Night shifts, which follows some Berliners at night, would be any better than the similarly-themed films. It was. Maybe it says something about Löcker as a film maker, that she has the skill to make a seamless combination of images, sounds and music that conjures up those peculiar feelings of being awake late at night. Maybe its her finding interesting people to talk to, so that these people talk about just anything. Two social workers drive around looking for homeless people in need of shelter. A helicopter driver floats above the city, looking for shady activities on the ground. A grafitti tagger goes through town, leaving his traces. A security guard walks around with a fluffy dog. A guy talks about loneliness and how his life lacks meaning. A homeless persons looks for places to spend the night. A dj talks about her father, among other things. Löcke keeps things simple. There are few instances of embarrassing "poetic" generalizations about Urban Night, fear and freedom (yet there are a few, and they are out of place, I think). Instead, Löcker has a good eye for how to make wintry Berlin visible, how to turn snow, cold weather and darkness into unique situation. A good feel for atmospheres. In other words - she is a gifted documentarist and I hope we will hear more from her soon.

The Last Life in the Universe (2003)

I had read some reviews of Pen-Ek Ratanuang's films & decided I should grab the opportunity to go see a screening of The Last Life in the Universe in MoMa. To be honest, I didn't like the film very much, even though several scenes were executed in a funny and eerie way. I cannot stop thinking that the style of the film is very self-conscious. Even though the director tries not to be too explicit, I find the images lacking in depth. I also find the musical score oppresingly predictable in combination with the clinical frames. Yes, the camera sometimes moves in interesting, surprising ways when we do not really expect any movement, but this does not change my impression that the film is too much an effort to be stylish, to be aesthetic. As if this were not enough, the humor in the film was, in my opinion, obtuse. Or maybe it was a creepy guy guffawing in the right and wrong places, always too loudly, that made me think so. Well, maybe I just don't think it is very funny to see somebody trying to hang himself and oops, the doorbell rings, gotta open. The story, dealing with the way people get close to each other in ways over which they have no control, has its merit. A Japanese librarian living in a spotless apartment in Bangkok tries to kill himself. Once, a few more times. His yazuka brother comes to visit and ... there will be blood. Between the suicide attempts, the librarian spots a beautiful girl reading a Japanese children's book. As he is getting ready to jump off a bridge, the beautiful girl spots him. She moves towards him, only to be hit by a car. The girl dies, and that is when the librarian meets her sister. This is only a part of the story, but it is this, rather than the scenes depicting violence, that drives the film. These two people have no common language. They speak what they can: the Japanese man knows a few words in Thai, the girl is learning Japanese. Mostly, they speak broken English. As atrocities have taken place in the guy's apartment, he ends up staying with the girl in her ramshackle residence by the sea. They are friends, perhaps something more. The film treads carefully in revealing the sexual tension between the two. Sometimes this is done elegantly, sometimes not. At times I feel that communication difficulties are handled too carelessly, by the film's piling one difficulty on top of another. It is good to see that the film is also politically conscious and only at rare moments does it fall prey to gender stereotypes. This is a film worth seeing, the cinematography is stunning at times, but for me, it was too aestheticized.