World Cup Preview: Belgium-vs-United States

The knockout round of the 2014 World Cup concludes tomorrow afternoon with a matchup between Belgium and the United States. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

Belgium

Man Bites Dog  / C’est arrivé près de chez vous

(dir. Remy Belvaux, Andre Bonzel & Benoit Poelvoorde, 1992)

From the nation of Belgium comes one of the most bizarre, highly-interesting mockumentaries ever produced: 1992’s Man Bites Dog, directed by Remy Belvaux, Andre Bonzel, and Benoit Poelvoorde. The film, presented in black-and-white documentary style, features a film crew following Ben (Poelvoorde), a ruthless thief/serial killer, through his daily routine. Ben, despite being a cold-hearted criminal, remains charismatic and intriguing, ultimately forming a friendship of sorts with his documentary crew. As the film progresses, the closeness between the crew and the subject tightens, and the crew begin down the dangerous path toward taking part in Ben’s horrific crimes.

A winner of numerous international awards, Man Bites Dog is worth the watch simply for its uniqueness. In a world of copycat filmmakers, something truly original and different is rare, and Man Bites Dog has originality in spades. Director-star Benoit Poelvoorde’s performance as Ben is what makes the whole crazy thing work: there is a duality to his performance that makes you love him and hate him at the same time. A truly despicable person by any means: thief, murderer, misogynist, racist, etc. Ben nevertheless manages to have an inexplicable charm and wit that draws in both the documentary crew and the viewer.

United States

Casablanca

(dir. Michael Curtiz, 1942)

With a cinematic tradition as deep and varied as the United States, it is nearly impossible to select a perfect single film to represent the American team in this World Cup preview. From landmark films like Citizen Kane (1941) and The Godfather (1972) to directors who break both ground and box office records–Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, Martin Scorsese, et al.–there are plenty of options and few wrong choices. With all else being equal, it made the most sense to just go with my favorite: Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca (1942). After all, what better way to represent this current United States roster, with its German coach and multiple foreign-born players than a Hollywood film helmed by a Hungarian ex-patriot? Plus, the film also happens to be the greatest romantic drama ever filmed.

Casablanca that you wouldn’t be better served simply watching for yourself. The film tells the story of Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart), an American ex-patriot living in Africa during World War II. Blaine, a nightclub owner and respected man-about-Casablanca, sees his world turn upside down with the return of a former lover (Ingrid Bergman) and her husband (Paul Henreid), a leader of the French Resistance. The film features superb performances from the entire ensemble–Bogart, Bergman, Henried, Claude Rains, Conrad Veidt, Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre, et al–and features the timeless classic song, “As Time Goes By” (performed by Dooley Wilson). When it’s all said and done, we learn that “the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.” That may be true, but the story of those three little people has certainly endured.

Nominated for eight Academy Awards, winning Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Screenplay, Casablanca is a timeless treasure of American film. The performances are brilliant and memorable across the board, resulting in one of the most quotable motion pictures of all time. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

 

World Cup Preview: Argentina-vs-Switzerland

The knockout round of the 2014 World Cup continues tomorrow with a matchup between Argentina and Switzerland. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

Argentina

Nine Queens / Nueve reinas

(dir. Fabian Bielinsky, 2000)

The nation of Argentina has a rich cinematic history, placing it among the forerunners for countries producing critically-acclaimed films in the Spanish language. As a nation, the Argentines lead the way with the most Goya Award nominations (15) for best Spanish-language film. Additionally, Argentina has been nominated for an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film a respectable six times, twice taking home the Oscar (for Luis Puenzo’s The Official Story in 1985, and Juan Jose Campanella’s The Secret in Their Eyes in 2009). Both films are outstanding representations of the rich film tradition Argentina has to offer; however, I have instead selected my favorite Argentine film, and one of the best crime dramas produced in any nation/language: Fabian Bielinsky’s Nine Queens (2000).

Nine Queens is a crime drama of the Ocean’s Eleven variety: a con man, Marcos (Ricardo Darin), and his partner/protégé, Juan (Gaston Pauls), attempt a once-in-a-lifetime scheme by attempting to sell counterfeit copies of a rare sheet of stamps (the titular “Nine Queens”). As the twists and turns of this story’s tight narrative are the true delight of the film, I won’t give too much away… but following the events of the con through its inevitable ups and downs, resulting in a final, brilliant, denouement make this one of the smartest, most fun crime dramas out there.

With a brilliant screenplay and tight acting from the entire ensemble, Nine Queens is a true delight of world cinema. A winner of multiple international awards, and originally selected as one of the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die (edited by Steven Jay Schneider), this is an Argentine movie that is as clever as some of Messi’s best moves on the pitch.

Switzerland

Journey of Hope / Reise der Hoffnung

(dir. Xavier Koller, 1990)

Switzerland is a bit of a cinematic chameleon, owing in part to its location adjacent to the large European film industries of France, Italy, and Germany. As such, the Swiss have a hand in a number of productions produced in these neighboring countries, as well as not-so-nearby nations as varied as the United Kingdom, United States, and Turkey. Despite their relatively-heavy involvement in collaborative projects, there are few internationally-acclaimed films produced as purely Swiss films. As a result, I have chosen Xavier Koller’s Journey of Hope (1990), which, although filmed in the Turkish language, is one of Switzerland’s two films to receive the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film (the other is Richard Dembo’s 1984 film, Dangerous Moves, in case you were wondering).

The film tells the story of a poor Turkish family seeking a better life through immigration to Switzerland. Down-on-his-luck, Haydar Sener (Necmettin Cobanoglu) hears rumors of successful Turks in Switzerland, and convinces his wife, Meryem (Nur Surer), that it is time for the family to move. After selling his land and livestock to fund the journey, Haydar, Meryem, and eldest-son Mehmet (Emin Sivas) stow away on a ship bound for Europe. After the family trust the last of their money to a group of questionable “guides” who ultimately abandon them in the height of a blizzard, they become separated in the storm and each member must struggle to continue the journey on his/her own.

The film’s story of a family in need and their desperate grasping at a chance for a better life is reminiscent of Gregory Nava’s excellent film about Mexican immigration, El Norte (1983). While not exactly uplifting, but certainly eye-opening, Journey of Hope is a film worth the watch, and one that should stay with you after the viewing.

 

World Cup Preview: Germany-vs-Algeria

The knockout round of the 2014 World Cup continues tomorrow with a matchup between Germany and Algeria. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

Germany

Aguirre, the Wrath of God / Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes

(dir. Werner Herzog, 1972)

German cinema has a rich history, dating back to the days of the Weimar republic and the expressionist movement. Great German directors like F.W. Murnau (Nosferatu, 1922),  Fritz Lang (Metropolis, 1927), and Robert Wiene (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, 1920) helped develop and/or perfect cinematic techniques that have influenced the way movies are made ever since. The impact of these early filmmakers on the film noir genre, for example, cannot be understated, and they pushed the envelope regarding silent cinema’s capabilities as an art form. Later, the birth of the German New Wave brought directors like Wim Wenders (Wings of Desire, 1987), Rainer Werner Fassbinder (Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, 1974), and Werner Herzog that changed the direction of German film and infused post-World War II sensibilities. It is a film from this era, Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972), that I have selected for this profile.

Loosely based on Joseph Conrad’s classic novella, Heart of Darkness, Herzog’s film tells the story of a Spanish expedition down the Amazon River in search of a city of gold. This “El Dorado” expedition, led by the maniacal Don Lope de Aguirre (Klaus Kinski, in one of his several pairings with Herzog), is doomed from the start, yet the crew is pressed ever onward by their ruthless, greed-stricken leader. A truly monomaniacal megalomaniac (what a great set of “m” words back-to-back, eh?), Kinski’s Don Aguirre is one of the great cinematic characters in film history, and deserves a place at the table of literary crazies with Kurtz and Ahab.

In many ways as effective an adaptation of Conrad’s novella as Apocalypse Now (1979), Aguirre, the Wrath of God is a treasure of New German cinema. Despite their troubled relationship, Herzog and Kinski were never better than when they worked together, and this is the pair’s finest collaboration.

Algeria

The Battle of Algiers / La battaglia di Algeri

(dir. Gillo Pontecorvo, 1966)

While there are a number of films that have been produced, in part, in the nation of Algeria, a great number of them were produced in partnership with European film industries, such as Italy and France. Perhaps the best example of a purely Algerian treasure is Rachid Bouchareb’s Indigenes (2006), a World War II film that earned an Academy Award nomination for best Foreign Language Film. While it is a great film and a deserving choice, I have chosen, instead, to select, Gillo Pontecorvo’s The Battle of Algiers (1966). Technically an Italian-Algerian collaboration, helmed by an Italian director, I feel that there is no better film that best captures Algeria on film, and for this reason, I am overlooking the film’s Italian partnership. To its credit, the film was commissioned by the Algerian government, and features an Algerian cast focused on a key event in Algeria’s history–the Algerian Revolution.

The Battle of Algiers tells the story of the Algerian fight for independence from France from the perspective of both sides. Pontecorvo, an Italian, borrows from the rich Italian tradition of neo-realism and applies it to perfection in this Algerian tale. Through a series of episodic vignettes reminiscent of Roberto Rossellini’s Paisan (1946), we see the effects of war on everyone involved. The film’s incorporation of women and children as rebels and combatants makes the story particularly affecting.

Nominated for three Academy Awards, including Best Director and Best Original Screenplay, The Battle of Algiers is a brilliant film that belongs among the ranks of the best ever made. Commissioned by the Algerian government and executed by an Italian-Algerian cast and crew to perfection, this is a film that makes an invaluable statement about the ugliness of war for everyone.

 

World Cup Preview: France-vs-Nigeria

The knockout round of the 2014 World Cup continues tomorrow with a matchup between France and Nigeria, two nations with deep film traditions. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

France

The Wages of Fear / Le salaire de la peur

(dir. Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1953)

Selecting a single film to represent a nation with a film tradition as rich as France is a truly difficult challenge. With legendary directors and renowned films, there are certainly a lot of valid considerations. From Jean Renoir’s masterpiece The Rules of the Game (1939) to landmark New Wave films like Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows (1959) or Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless (1960), the French have certainly produced a number of the greatest and most important films in cinematic history. Rather than debating with myself over which film was most deserving of a representative highlight, I am simply going with my favorite: The Wages of Fear (1959).

The film tells the story of a group of European laborers stuck in an isolated South American village with little opportunities for employment, save an American oil company that dominates the village commerce. When a dangerous (but well-paying) job of transporting explosive nitroglycerine over 300 miles of rough South American terrain, Mario (Yves Montand), Jo (Charles Vanel), Luigi (Folco Lulli), and Bimba (Peter van Eyck) sign up for the task. The majority of the film centers on the tense journey these four men (in two separate trucks loaded with explosives) undergo for the sake of money. The audience, along for the ride, feels every bump, curve, and divot as Clouzot expertly captures the suspense of the moment.

Winner of a number of international awards, including the BAFTA award for “best film from any source,” The Wages of Fear is one of the greatest examples of a classic action thriller in any language. Henri-Georges Clouzot is often regarded as the “French Hitchcock” for his suspenseful narratives, and is in his absolute finest form here. An edge-of-your-seat experience if there ever was one, this film is essential viewing that should not be missed.

Nigeria

Mother of George

(dir. Andrew Dosunmu, 2013)

Nigerian cinema is a rapidly-growing industry, challenging the likes of the United States and India as one of the largest film industries in the world in terms of volume of films produced. Currently, “Nollywood” is the nation’s second largest employer, producing roughly 50 films per week. That being said, a majority of Nigerian films are still difficult to find in the United States in the standard circles (for example, there are no Nigerian films available to watch instantly on Netflix). Additionally, much of the industry relies on the direct-to-video distribution, often with rushed production values and sacrifices in overall quality. Nevertheless, there are a number of quality films to come from Nigeria in the last few decades, including Andrew Dosunmu’s Mother of George (2013).

Nigerian couple Adenike (Danai Gurira) and Ayodele (Isaach De Bankole) are living together in Brooklyn, New York. All is well with their relationship, except Adenike is having trouble conceiving their much-wanted first child. Traditions and cultural expectations for the couple to produce children begin to pressure the couple, and they look into various alternatives–seeking medical fertility assistance, adoption, etc.–but all of the options are ultimately rejected because they clash with the pair’s cultural values. Ultimately, Adenike decides to conceive a child with her husband’s brother, deceiving Ayodele into believing he is the father. In the film’s denouement, we see the guilt of deceiving a loved one take its toll on Adenike and her marriage.

Made in collaboration with American partners, Mother of George is a fine Nigerian offering with an engaging, heartfelt plot. The lead performances of Gurira and De Bankole are world-class, and the cinematography and score create a very pleasant aesthetic for Dosunmu’s tragic morality tale. A winner of multiple international awards, including recognition at Sundance and the National Board of Review, this film is one to watch.

 

World Cup Preview: Greece-vs-Costa Rica

The knockout round of the 2014 World Cup continues tomorrow with a matchup between Greece and Costa Rica. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

Greece

Landscape in the Mist / Topio stin omichli

(dir. Theodoros Angelopoulos, 1988)

Theodorous Angelopoulos deserves recognition as one of the true international auteurs, and is hard to argue against as the greatest Greek filmmaker of all time. While his trademark long takes and tracking shots may make the pace of his films range from lackadaisically meandering to painfully slow, he is a man of clear and consistent vision, and his films have a charming beauty that are unique and special. From his widely-regarded “masterpiece,” The Travelling Players (1975), to Palme d’Or winner Eternity and a Day (1998), to TIME Magazine All-TIME 100 selection Ulysses’ Gaze (1995), there are a number of Angelopoulos selections that could have represented Greece admirably here. I have decided, however, to focus on my personal favorite: 1988’s Landscape in the Mist.

The film, much like The Travelling Players, tells the story of a group of wanderers. This time, instead of focusing on a circus troupe, the central figures are two children–Voula (Tania Palaiologou) and Alexandros (Michalis Zeke)–who wander the Greek landscape in an effort to reach their “father” in Germany. In this film, the journey is far more important than the destination, and watching the two children’s dogged determination to find hope and motivation within their bleak surroundings is admirable and fascinating. Throughout their travels, Angelopolous even pays homage to himself, having the children spend a brief time with the acting troupe of The Travelling Players.

Winner of a number of international awards, including top prize at the Venice Film Festival, Landscape in the Mist represents the very best that Greek cinema has to offer.  An outstanding travelogue that tones down Angelopoulos’ meandering tendencies to a crisp, clean 127 minutes, the film features outstanding performances from its young leads and offers great perspective on childhood, innocence, and growing up too fast. If you only see one Greek film in your entire life, see this one.

Costa Rica

C’est comme ça

(dir. Alexander Berberich, 2005)

I’ll be honest, prior to setting out to write these World Cup preview pieces, I had never seen a film from Costa Rica. It took a fair bit of Googling “Best Costa Rican Films” and other like terms before I finally came across this short film–C’est comme ça, by director Alexander Berberich. I know it’s taking the easy way out selecting a short film to represent a country’s cinematic heritage, but really… there isn’t much out there. Costa Rica has collaborated with other nations on a number of films, including World Cup rivals Colombia (on a number of occasions, most notably Of Love and Other Demons [2009]), but the film industry independent to Costa Rica seems to have very limited offerings. In fact, one site I came across in my research into Costa Rican cinema listed this short film by Berberich as the greatest cinematic achievement in the nation’s history. Poor Costa Rica… they are the only World Cup finalist without a military, and the best of their cinematic heritage is summed up by an 8 minute film. At least they have a team that looks pretty darn good so far.

As far as the film goes, C’est comme ça is fairly entertaining, and I can say that my attention was fully held for its 8 minute duration. The premise is simple: an unnamed man (Thibaut Landier)  ha been condemned to die. Throughout the film, he smokes a cigarette and shares a few thoughts and reflections, moments before his death. The camera changes perspectives several times, moving from extreme close-ups of his lips to wide shots that contain his full figure in the frame. Shot in a clean, intriguing black and white, the film is simple, short, and decent.

World Cup Preview: Netherlands-vs-Mexico

The knockout round of the 2014 World Cup continues tomorrow with a matchup between the Netherlands and Mexico. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

Netherlands

Soldier of Orange / Soldaat van Oranje

(dir. Paul Verhoeven, 1977)

The cinema of Holland is undoubtedly best represented by the career of one filmmaker: Paul Verhoeven. Before earning recognition for Hollywood films like RoboCop (1987), Total Recall (1990), Basic Instinct (1992), and Starship Troopers (1997), Verhoeven earned his strips directing Dutch-language films in his native Holland, none better than 1977’s Soldier of Orange.

Soldier of Orange is a World War II drama, told through the eyes of several Dutch students, led, notably, by Erik Lanshof (Rutger Hauer). The film transitions from the outbreak of war, through the Nazi occupation of Holland and the liberation. What makes the film stand out from other WWII fare is the realism with which Verhoeven presents the different students’ perspectives of war. Before the occupation, a number of principal characters treat the war with indifference, or even excitement… a perspective that changes dramatically when Nazi occupation becomes a Dutch reality. After the occupation, we see friendships and relationships tested as the students align themselves with either the Dutch resistance or their Nazi overseers.

Nominated for a Golden Globe award for best foreign language film, Soldier of Orange is an essential entry in to the catalog of World War II films. Violent (but not overly so, particularly by Verhoeven’s usual standards) and well-acted–particularly by Hauer–the film gives a great insight into the perspective of young men in wartime. Do not be intimidated by its lengthy 165 minute runtime; you will not be disappointed with your time investment.

Mexico

The Exterminating Angel / El angel exterminador

(dir. Luis Bunuel, 1962)

With directors like Alfonso Cuarón (Y tu mama tambien, 2001), Guillermo del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth, 2006), Carlos Reygadas (Silent Light, 2007), and Alejandro González Iñárritu (Amores perros, 2000), Mexican cinema boasts some of the most respected international directors of the 21st century. However, well before Cuarón was taking an Academy Award back to Mexico, Luis Buñuel helped put Mexican cinema on the international map. Moving from his native Spain in the 1940s, Buñuel made a number of landmark films during his residence in Mexico, including Los Olvidados (1950), and my selection for this segment, The Exterminating Angel (1962).

The premise of Buñuel’s film is perfect in its simplicity. We’ve all been there: that moment when the party seems to have run its inevitable course–there is a lull in the festivities, you’ve had your fun, and you’re ready to depart. That is the moment that is reached by the party guests in The Exterminating Angel. The only problem is, when the guests get ready to leave, say their “goodbyes,” and head for the exit, they find that they cannot leave the room. Some unknown force has trapped them there–at the party that never ends. There doesn’t appear to be anything stopping the guests from leaving, yet leave they cannot, and chaos and anarchy ensues as each guest severely wears out his/her welcome.

Presented in the delightfully surrealistic style Buñuel is renowned for, The Exterminating Angel is an absolute treat to watch. Simple, yet somehow inexplicable, this is one of the truly great films, and one that sticks with you long after first watch. The film was also nominated for the Palme d’Or at Cannes in 1962, ultimately losing to Anselmo Duarte’s The Given Word, another great film from the nation of Brazil.

 

World Cup Preview: Colombia-vs-Uruguay

Tomorrow afternoon, the knockout round of the 2014 World Cup continues with a matchup between Colombia and Uruguay. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

Colombia

Dog Eat Dog / Perro come perro

(dir. Carlos Moreno, 2008)

While the roots of Colombian cinema stretch back into the silent era, the Colombian film industry remains relatively small on the global market, producing roughly 5 box-office films per year since the early 1990s. Among the best-known achievements in Colombian cinema was a Colombian-American collaboration, Maria Full of Grace (2004), which earned an Academy Award nomination for Colombian actress Catalina Sandino Moreno. For this World Cup preview, I have selected Carlos Moreno’s Dog Eat Dog (2008), which is, admittedly, the only all-Colombian production I have seen.

The film is a gangster drama focused on the life of Victor Penaranda (Marlon Moreno) and his involvement in the criminal world of  Cali, Colombia. The film opens with Victor’s decision to steal a bag of money from his boss, El Orejon (Blas Jaramillo). Meanwhile, El Orejon–mourning the loss of his godson–has a voodoo curse placed on the man responsible for his godson’s death, Eusebio Benitez (Oscar Borda). Without giving away too much of the convoluted plot that takes place after Victor and Eusebio are ultimately paired for an assignment by El Orejon’s assistant, Don Pascual, the curse and the stolen money each begin to take their toll on the two men, as they learn–in standard crime drama format–that crime doesn’t pay and there are dangers in breaking underworld codes.

The film may feel a bit like your run-of-the-mill gangster drama, and the plot is a little thin, opting for violence-over-substance a little to often, but Dog Eat Dog is a reasonably-entertaining number from Colombia. Nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance and Colombia’s official submission for the Best Foreign Language Oscar, this film is worth checking out for its high-energy action and first-rate performances from Moreno, Alvaro Rodriguez, and Jaramillo.

Uruguay

Bad Day to Go Fishing / Mal dia para pescar 

(dir. Alvaro Brechner, 2009)

Like South American counterpart Colombia, the cinematic history of Uruguay dates back to the earliest days of film, yet the number of Uruguayan films that have become well-known, critically-acclaimed international successes are few. Again, like Colombia, I have only seen one Uruguayan film, which is Alvaro Brechner’s Bad Day to Go Fishing (2009).

Brechner’s film tells the story of Jacob van Oppen (Jouko Ahola), the former world’s strongest man, who now tours small South American villages with his manager, Orsini (Gary Piquer), looking to cash in by organizing some small-time wrestling matches. The pair head from town to town, challenging the local residents to staged matches. Although he is a cheap raconteur, van Oppen manages to stay sympathetic as a once-great man well past his prime and fully reliant on his “handler,” Orsini, to get by. When the pair make it to Santa Maria, they are challenged by “The Turk,” a gentleman fighting to finance his wedding to Adriana (Antonella Costa). The relationship between Adriana and The Turk nearly mirrors that of the story’s two “heroes,” which helps make their interaction in the film so interesting.

Unique and charming, Bad Day to Go Fishing is well-worth the 110 minute investment. The entire ensemble was cast perfectly, and the story is simple yet engaging. A winner of multiple international awards, and Uruguay’s official selection for the Academy Awards’ Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, Bad Day to Go Fishing features some great performances and a plot/visual style reminiscent of Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler (2008).

 

World Cup Preview: Chile-vs-Brazil

At noon tomorrow, the knockout round of the 2014 World Cup kicks off (no pun intended) with a matchup between Chile and host-nation (and tournament-favorite) Brazil. In honor of the tournament, I have decided to give a brief profile of a film from each nation, followed by my match prediction.

Chile

Young and Wild / Joven y alocada

(dir. Marialy Rivas, 2012)

Alongside Sebastian Silva’s The Maid (2009) and Pablo Larrain’s No (2012), Marialy Rivas’ Young and Wild is among the most well-known and critically-acclaimed films of new-Chilean cinema. Taking home the Sebastiane Award at the San Sebastian International Film Festival and the World Cinema Screenwriting Award at Sundance in 2012, the film boasts an engaging, off-beat script and a strong, understated performance from leading-lady Alicia Rodriguez.

The film is the story of Daniela (Rodriguez), a Chilean teen whose interest in sex and sexuality directly conflict with the ideologies of her devoutly Evangelical parents. Seeking an emotional outlet, she creates a blog (the titular Young and Wild), where she secretly shares her thoughts and experiences with the world. When she is expelled from school (only days before graduating) for seducing a male classmate, Daniela’s overbearing mother (Aline Kuppenheim) attempts to save her daughter from herself by finding her a job at a local Christian television network and strictly monitoring all of her social interactions. Ultimately, her mother’s efforts miss their intended mark, as the television station becomes a springboard for new sexual relationships (and a challenging love triangle) for Daniela.

While the film treads down some well-beaten paths (the rebellious teen, the clash between sex and religion, etc.), Marialy Rivas’ script and direction keep the film feeling fresh and intriguing amid a sea of similar films. Young and Wild might not make many critics’ top 10 lists for 2012, but it is a fresh, highly-watchable film from Chile.

Brazil

Bus 174 / Onibus 174

(dir. Jose Padilha & Felipe Lacerda, 2002)

Jose Padilha & Felipe Lacerda’s Bus 174 (2002) stands out as one of the most engaging documentaries I have ever seen. What makes this even more impressive is that the events of the documentary–a hostage crisis aboard a bus in Rio de Janeiro–were unknown to me prior to my first viewing of the film. I went into the documentary without knowledge or expectation, and was fully engaged in the story of Sandro do Nascimento as it unfolded within the film.

The documentary depicts an incident that took place on the streets of Rio de Janeiro on June 12th, 2000. An armed man, Sandro do Nascimento, took control of a bus, holding its passengers hostage throughout the day. Padilha and Lacerda document the incident, which was captured live on Brazilian television, taking viewers from the initial hijacking through the incident’s chaotic denouement. Equally interesting is the backstory the directors provide on Nascimento–providing the suggestion that the unfortunate circumstances of his past left him with little choice but to turn toward a life of crime.  It is these themes that present the kidnapper not as a man of ill will, but as a victim of circumstance, that make the documentary far more thought-provoking than a run-of-the-mill retelling of a hostage crisis.

While films like Fernando Meirelles’ City of God (2002), Jose Padilha’s Elite Squad (2007), and Walter Salles’ Central Station (1998) are more likely to top critical lists of the best Brazilian films of the last 20 years (deservedly so), Bus 174 gives interesting perspective and insight into a true-life Brazilian crisis.

 

Close-Up: A Room with a View (1985)

There is a reason that the Merchant-Ivory films have earned their reputation for being among the best and classiest period films. The reason, to put it simply, is that they deserve the distinction. Merchant-Ivory films are consistently well-cast, well-shot, and well-costumed; A Room with a View is no exception. In fact, it may be the gold-standard by which other Merchant-Ivory products should be judged.

Although the period drama is far from my favorite genre, there are many things that work well in this film that make it very hard not to like. Chief among them is the script, expertly adapted from E.M. Forster’s novel by the gifted writer Ruth Prawer Jhabvala (who also worked with Merchant-Ivory on Howards End and The Remains of the Day). Additionally, the film is well acted with a charming supporting cast, and a visual treat, with truly beautiful scenes of Florentine and English countryside.

Helena Bonham-Carter provides a quality performance as the story’s heroine, Lucy Honeychurch, a young woman in crisis over which man she wishes to marry. The two men she must choose between are the passionate, but unconventional George Emerson (overacted, but not distractingly so, by Julian Sands) and the practical, albeit passionless Cecil Vyse (played wonderfully – as usual – by the gifted Daniel Day-Lewis).

What really makes this film a winner, though, is its unbelievable supporting cast. The entire ensemble manages to turn even the smallest of roles into memorable characters. Judi Dench is delightful in her few early scenes in Florence. Rosemary Leach (Mrs. Honeychurch), Rupert Graves (Freddy Honeychurch), and Simon Callow (Reverend Beebe) all turn in charming performances. The two that really steal the show, however, are Denholm Elliott (Mr. Emerson) and Maggie Smith (Charlotte Bartlett, Lucy’s elder cousin). Each were nominated for an Academy Award for their scene-stealing performances, and deservedly so. When the two disappear from the action for a brief period just before the film’s midpoint, there is a noticeable lacking in the film. When they eventually return, it comes as a welcome relief.

While the story is sappy, and the bathing scene contains enough frontal nudity to make you wonder where Harvey Keitel was when the casting call went out, the outstanding performances, well-adapted screenplay, and often-stunning visuals place A Room with a View at the forefront of period filmmaking. Along with The Remains of the Day, this film is one of the best that the Merchant-Ivory team ever produced. It’s films like this that make you wish there were a few more romantic dramas like it in the world – sweetness and light without too much schmaltz and camp.

Close-Up: Bigger Than Life (1956)

Into the world of social conformity and conservativism that came to define 1950s, middle-class America comes Nicholas Ray’s Bigger Than Life, a powerful film that challenges the social mores of the “Leave It to Beaver” decade. Through the lens of addiction, the film questions whether the social values associated with the 1950s were a geniune return to wholesomeness during the post-war era, or a deliberate, protective façade that middle-class families moved behind in order to hide potentially damaging opinions, values, and motives.

The film centers around a powerhouse performance by the always-wonderful James Mason. Mason plays Ed Avery, a small-town schoolteacher that follows a by-the-book, Ward Cleaver lifestyle. While all seems well in the Avery family in the early portion of the film, there are hints that taboo social concerns do exist; they just aren’t being addressed openly. For example, we see Avery hide the shame of working a second job at a taxi garage from his wife (played well by Barbara Rush), fearing the negative impact of the “lowly” job on his family’s image. Consequently, Mrs. Avery worries that her husband is having an affair, with infidelity not out of the minds of 1950s women.

The movie dramatically changes pace when a serious illness strikes, and Avery’s life can only be saved by the new “wonder-drug,” cortisone: what happens when Ward Cleaver becomes a drug addict? The answer, as the film presents it, is not to be missed. Under the curse of addiction, Avery strips away all social mores and image-saving maneuvers, and a dark, pessimistic realism shines through. He becomes a misanthrope, a spendthrift, and a tyrant… and it’s all a shocking delight to watch.

It is in the portion of the film where Avery becomes addicted to cortisone that Mason’s performance escalates to perfection, particularly in his parent’s night speech at the school (“Childhood is a congenital disease, and the purpose of modern education is to cure it.”), and in the shocking recreation of Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac, where Mason coolly delivers the line, “God was wrong,” when reminded that God stopped Abraham from killing his son. Moments like these are what make great cinema.

Everything about the film is masterful (save one botched reflection shot, where the camera crew makes a surprise, unintended cameo). The script is tight and critical; the performances by Mason, Rush, Walter Matthau, and 10 year-old Christopher Olsen are all first-rate; and the color and cinematography are in that sharp, vibrant 50s style that I love. Simply put, Bigger Than Life is the best film about addiction I’ve ever seen. Ignore the publicity heaped on Rebel Without a Cause – this is the best film Nicholas Ray ever made, and among the best films anyone has ever made.