palgoo Reviews

The Woman in the Fifth (2011)

Ethan Hawke Speaks French

[6/10 · 19 July 2012]

The Woman in the Fifth (2011) is the most recent feature by the Polish-born British filmmaker Pawel Pawlikowski, known for his debut film, Last Resort (2000). As an Oxonian who did post-graduate studies in German lit and philosophy, Pawlikowski makes movies at a slow and steady pace — almost as slowly as Terrence Malick, the other notable Oxonian philosopher-turned-filmmaker. But while the bona fide Heiddeggarian Malick brings epic pretension to the screen (as he should, since he's so good at it), adding layers of meaning under every attempt, Pawlikowski adroitly avoids any noticeable stamp of his academic background, save the fact his cover story is about a literary-figure-gone-berserk (the academic in me finds this contrast between the two quite interesting). Instead, Pawlikowski is faithful to his subjects, their appearances, their feelings, and their immediate psychologies. For this, his partner in crime, the veteran Polish cinematographer R. Lenczewski does a splendid job, with thoughtful angles, masterful use of shallow depth-of-field, focus-tricks, and most importantly, without ever overdoing it.

The film's catch, however, is that Ethan Hawke is speaking French most of the time. It's not that he's bad at it; in fact, he's almost decent at it. But it just doesn't vibe. His calm, slow attempt to enunciate every word with a charming tinge of an accent has an effect of alienating not just his character from the constructed world in the film, but also the actor from the medium itself… All throughout the film, 'Wow…" I was thinking, "Ethan Hawke is trying to act in French!', which just wouldn't, for some reason, leave my damn head. The otherworldly Kristen Scott Thomas, the epitome of elegance, was also a little less-than-compelling as the mysterious femme fatale (and that was really, really, unfortunate. Because I do want her to be everything).

That being said, the tension that slowly builds up through the first half of the film is thoughtful, appropriately paced and has a powerful effect of drawing you in (especially if you don't speak french), which clearly bespeaks Palikowski's strength in the craft of storytelling. But perhaps because of that, the final revelation towards the end of the film is painfully hurried and a little too cliché for the 2012 audience, and the whole thing feels more like a nostalgic, velvety-redressing of a thriller from the 60s. (For more, see seungjung.wordpress.com)

Time of the Wolf (2003)

Quiet but disturbing, boring but interesting...

[7/10 · 30 June 2004]

I must acknowledge a couple of things first - that this is my first Haneke film, and that I have actually missed the crucial first five minutes of the movie...

That being said, I still believe that I have actually experienced the film in the spirit of the maker, having missed the more shocking introduction to the main story of the film. This fact is irrelevant, in a way, since the film throughout makes no effort to convey any kind of explanation whatsoever of its setting. We are simply brought up face to face with its reality and everyday happenings, vignettes are shown in real time, abruptly passing onto the next real-time sequence. The camera work is ingenious, although at times slow, giving enough time to the viewers who are no doubt brooding over what in the world might be going on.

We are quietly presented with an alternative reality; no narration, no visual hints, just plain simple reality, with a brilliant dark atmosphere that creeps under ones skin. The bold but steady camera angles give extra weight to the film, standing somewhere between the shallow hand-held technique (which gained so much popularity so rapidly that it's already getting old), and the classic steady-cam.

There are surely less things happening than, for example, 28 days later, but is as engaging and thought provoking. The strength of the film lies not in the story telling (which is also quite decent), but in the very absence of it. In the end, one realizes that how they got there is not really important (as the kid says "ca sert a qui, de savoir (what use would it be if you knew?)"), but how humans interact and survive in extreme circumstances. The young actress who plays Eva (Anais Demoustier) is radiant in this film, representing the very essence of humanity that will save the day - fear, love, compassion, innocence, and comprehension.

Contrary to what others might say, this film is not in anyway provocative, shocking or horrible - it seems to be more of an honest account of what really might be, and is perhaps a gentler introduction to Haneke's two other films that are often characterized as such. As a result, at times the movie fails to keep up the viewers attention. All in all, the film is certainly an interesting experimental work, but at the same time, it fails to come through as a masterpiece. Especially, it reveals some hastiness in trying to conclude, and eventually chooses not to conclude at all. After all it's simple what most moviegoers look for - it needs to be gripping, one way or another. (7/10)

Dance with the Wind (2004)

A Fresh new Asian touch to the dance film tradition

[9/10 · 22 June 2004]

Released in April 2004 in Korea, the movie premiered in North America at the New York Asian Film Festival (http://www.subwaycinema.com) on June 22. In the tradition of the all time dance classic, 'Strictly Ballroom (1992)', and perhaps more akin to the satirical aspect of the more recent 'Shall We Dance (1996)', 'Baram' tells the story of an ordinary thirty-some Korean male, whose accidental passion for ballroom dancing brought him afar from his otherwise painfully ordinary life. Yes, it does sounds familiar to all those who loved the Japanese hit movie 'Shall We Dance (1996)', which is about an awkward middle aged white-collar male who stumbled upon a new passion; however, Baram creates an entirely different, sharp, new, and twisted edge to the dance scene, which could only be appreciated with some understanding of the Korean subculture, the seedy, behind-the-scene world of the so-called 'cabarets' and gigolos (called 'Jaebi' in Korean slang).

This directorial debut of Park, Jeong-Woo, Korea's current 'hot commodity' due to his sharp and witty screenplays of many recent comedy hits ('Attack the Gas Station' 'Kick the Moon' 'Breakout'), is a wickedly funny, and gently touching film, with trendy and candid camera work that characterize the rising Korean cinematic 'new-wave' movement. Notable is the fact that this is the first Korean movie ever made about dance (in the modern world), and Park succeeds in delivering a cinematic introduction to the Korean 'dance scene'. Baram is also quite successful as a social satire, criticizing the way in which social norms and misconceptions in a conservative society could lead innocent passion into something else altogether. The acting is at times contrived, but somehow believable, and the twirling dance steps of the actors themselves (after six months of training!) are so candidly captured, that if you have the least penchant for any kind of dance, you'll find yourself humming to the familiar tunes and discreetly trying out some of those steps on the sidewalk on your way home.

Despite the subject, there is no nudity – a cinematic triumph in its own right (!) – a must-see for all! 9/10