Bright Star (2009)

Jane Campion has made a bunch of interesting movies. One of them, An Angel at my Table, about the author Janet Frame, is one of the best biographical films I have seen. On the paper, Bright Star sounds quite awful: the story revolves around John Keats, a poor and rather self-involved poet living for his art and a young girl, an independent-spirited dress-maker, who is his neighbor. They have mixed feelings for each other but gradually fall in love (despite Keat's jealous buddy who wants the poet all for himself), but it is not possible for them to marry. The poet, turns out, is ill. The film hints at a familiar figure of thinking: romantic love as most noble when it is - as the expression goes - never consummated (I recently read a philosopher who held this idea to be an important theme in 18th novels). If you expect all Campion's films to be about sex - this one is an exception. But the awfulness I expected never quite materialized. Campion is a far too curious director. What is perhaps most successful is how art occupies many roles. It's an enchantment, an obsession, it has its great risks, a sort of self-indulgence, where life itself becomes art. But in the end, Campion ends up confirming the image of ennobling romance, where romance transcends mere human desire by ending up in martyrdom. Well - it's interesting how Campion takes on the task of exploring this not very contemporary ideal, but I have no idea what the film wants us to think. It's never quite clear to me what destroys these people's love: an external obstacle or ideals and fears? Or is this more a film about transience and mortality? Is it a film about self-deception or a film about doomed love and what does "doomed love" even mean?The style of the film gives little cues. Campion embellishes the material with a calm, (mostly) restrained yet expressive cinematography (in slow, wistful takes, the colors and scenes of country and semi-urban life are evoked - and no obtrusive music is used to make us feel anything very particular) and she never looks for the sort of explosive scenes that are so common in movies about love. What saves the film is Campion's debunking of the myth of the Artist whose creativity and singular vision makes human relations secondary or even impossible. Campion takes a deep look into this image, disentangling it into several different human forms of temptations and yearnings. Campion seems to take more than a cursory interest in what kinds of conventional ideals about love the two main protagonists give expression to. The characters are often melodramatic but the film places itself at a distance, quizzically gazing at this form of life in which romantic poetry of the early 19th century was immersed.

Pather panchali (1955) & Aparajito (1956)

My knowledge about and experience about Indian cinema is embarrassingly small. Satyajit Ray's Apu-trilogi are films I have wanted to see and after having seen the first two, I can only conclude that their place in film history are justified. The two first films can be situated in the tradition of neorealism but they also feel strangely modern - I sometimes think about directors and films made in the sixties.

Pather panchali is set in Bengal in the twenties. It follows the ordeals of a poor family. The father is a brahmin, a sort of a happy-go-lucky type, whose income is on the meager side. Circumstances makes him go to the city and look for a job. The mother runs the household while taking a hostile attitude towards an elderly lady (it's unclear whether they are related) who is supported by them. This old lady is a magnificent actor and just watching her is one of the reasons to watch the film. The two kids lead the life of childhood: they play, steal fruit and eagerly follow the doings of the candy man. One day, they walk to the faraway place when they can spot a train on the other side of a gigantic field (this scene, as many others, is exquisitely shot!). The film takes a darker turn as it depicts the family's poverty and the death of the daughter. Aparajito chronicles what happens in the following years. The family has moved to the city. After a spell of illness, the father dies. A relative offers a place for the rest of the family in a village. Apu turns out to be a scholarly boy, and he goes to Calcutta to study.

The main thread of Aparajito is the choices Apu has to make: is he to stay with his lonely mother or should he pursue his studies? This leads the film to explore modern life and the conflicts born out of a new historical situation. Ray refrains from moralizing. He presents the struggles in an open way - open doesn't mean neutral, because these films are engaging and impassioned, but Ray never presents either modernity or the traditional life in terms of negative and positive. And: he doesn't conjure up anything as "emblematic" for modern life. He just shows situations of ordinary life and the choices people make. One of the major themes in the first two movies, poverty, is dealt with with a sort of matter-of-fact approach - this, however, not at all implying that feelings are absent. Especially in the first film, two different attitudes are contrasted: the mother is practical, economical - and she turns bitter. The father worries less. He is idealistic, even though he also acknowledges economic necessities.

The first films explore human relations very insightfully. This especially concerns the relation between the mother and the aunt - a relation characterized by dependence and ressentiment. We see the mother's anger, and the old woman's amazement. Another theme brought up in both films to great effect is loneliness. The film presents no solution and no gratifying reassertions, but presents a situation in a clear-sighted way: a boy who does not know how he is to react to his mother feeling lonely (the film shows the oscillation between well-meaning intentions and youthful lack of sensitivity) and a mother who is at pains to handle the fact that the boy is growing up and living in a distant place and living a life she knows very little about.

One aspect of the films I also liked was the music. Ray cleverly uses both non-diegetic music and sounds in the environment. None feels calculated.

Juha (1999)

It's not that surprising that Aki Kaurismäki took a shot with a silent movie. After all, he is known for his quiet movies which trade more in stylistic expressivism than modern senses of stylishness. Kaurismäki builds his own cinematic world in which the history of film always looms low and most of the time I like this slightly nostalgic approach to cinema. Juha takes off as rural drama and veers into a tragic story about the temptations of grim city life. This theme is of course present in other Kaurismäki movies as well. Here we have the farmer's wife who leave her husband only to end up in the arms of a Dennis Hopper-lookalike, an evil pimp. OK, so if you're after psychological realism, this is absolutely not for you. If you can stand a film comprising Kaurismäki's weird homage to the silent movie era, then you should give it a chance. - - - The carnevalistic score, however, didn't convince me and in my opinion, it didn't seem to be a good choice for this film. Juha is based on a novel written in 1911 but it is characterized by Kaurismäki's usual lack of respect for historical specificity.

Times and Winds (2006)

Reha Erdem's Times and Winds is a magnificently shot movie about the small wonders of growing up. The story is set in a rural community in Turkey. The film focuses on the gap between children and adults. Not that there are any major dramatic outbursts here, but there are clearly many tensions going on here. The children in the film are used to a quite free life, running around in the hills, playing games. Some of their parents try to set up limits and rules but this project seems to be in vain. Times and Wind works with small gestures: instead of showing ruptures and resolutions, it hints at problems and builds up a sinister feeling. Erdem restricts himself to crafting a series of tableaux - the kids lives play out in ordinary situations involving anger, sexuality and friendship. One of the children has a crush on his teacher, another is mad at his dad, the imam. A girl is blamed by her mother for being a good-for-nothing, while her father takes a more friendly attitude to her. He lets the camera tenderly follow the hourly changes in nature, from morning to noon to afternoon to the twilight hours but this has nothing to do with romanticism. Nature is what it is, and humans live with it. The style of the film is interesting: static images of natures are contrasted with very camera work tracking the activity of the characters. I like this approach, especially as it seems not to be bogged down with some upfront thesis about nature/human (but yes, it does contrast change/repetition).  - - Sometimes Times and Winds tend to be a bit unfocused, but all in all, this was a balanced and elegant little film that choses to focus on the everyday rather than the extra-ordinary.