Monday, February 16, 2015

DVD Review: Fifi Howls From Happiness

Fifi Howls From Happiness is an unusual and engaging documentary about Iranian artist Bahman Mohassess, who disappeared from the public eye for a long time and re-emerges in this film. The filmmaker, Mitra Farahani, tells us in narration how she tracked him down and found him at the Hotel Sacconi in Rome, where he’d been living for years.

The documentary centers on the resulting filmed interviews with the artist. “And to put your mind at ease, I will tell my life story myself, so that every idiot doesn’t write my biography the way it suits him,” he says early on. And he is immediately likeable. He actually tells the filmmaker how to make the film. “Put this over the image of the sea,” he instructs, and indeed we see an image of the ocean. And in voice over he begins to tell us of his life. It’s such an interesting way of presenting a subject and constructing a film. “I was born on the first of March, 1931, to the south of the Caspian Sea, in the city of Rasht.”

A phone call interrupts his narration, but his side of the call is left in the film. He talks a bit about some of his more recent work, telling the filmmaker which pieces to include in the movie. And we are treated to images of some incredible and original work, some of it in response to political and social situations. He continues to instruct the filmmaker as he lights a cigarette (despite his doctor’s warning): “Make sure you put this in. Make it a wide angle.” And when one day he’s not feeling good enough for conversation, he suggests things for her to shoot instead and tells her then how to use that footage. And yet he never comes across as domineering. He’s endearing, really, with a very particular laugh, which you’ll hear often. (It’s sort of like Ernie’s laugh, from Sesame Street.) But it’s also the little trivial things he says directly to the filmmaker that make him endearing. At one point he gets up, saying: “I won’t give you any coffee. Otherwise I won’t have any for tomorrow morning.”

He talks about destroying much of his own work. And, coughing, he says, “Immortality and all that nonsense.” He has an interesting perspective on today’s attitudes toward homosexuality. “The most devastating thing they’ve done is to eradicate the forbidden character of homosexuality. All its beauty was in the prohibition.” And he talks about his own homosexuality.

Director Mitra Farahani gets Mohassess a commission to do a large oil painting, with the idea that she can then film him at work. Again, this is one more thing making this a rather unusual documentary. She films the meeting between the artist and the two men who commission the work. The director interferes in an odd way, trying to get the men to ask for a bigger piece, trying to get them to ask Mohassess why he depicts fish so often. Why doesn’t she ask him herself? And why leave that in the film?

The film, by the way, is named after one of his paintings, which hangs on the wall behind him during the interview. It’s a painting he’s always kept with him.

Special Features

The DVD includes The Eye That Hears, a 1967 short documentary on Bahman Mohassess, in which he talks about his art and his views on humanity. We do see the “Fifi” painting at the beginning. And the man’s laugh was the same back then. This is approximately eighteen minutes.

The trailer for Fifi Howls From Happiness is also included.

Fifi Howls From Happiness was released on DVD on December 2, 2014 through Music Box Films.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

DVD Review: Penance

Penance is an intriguing drama about a group of woman who in their youth witnessed (or nearly witnessed) the murder of a friend and, being unable to identify the attacker, were tasked by that girl’s mother to either find the killer or do a penance that she approves of. This Japanese mini-series is split into five episodes, each focusing on a different character, and how her life has developed fifteen years after the incident.

The first chapter, “The French Doll,” introduces the characters, opening with the moment that Emili Adachi begins at her new school. The teacher introduces her to the class as the daughter of the new director of a local factory, which immediately sets her apart. And as Emili takes her seat, the film gives us two two-shots of the four classmates whose lives will be forever changed by Emili’s death. Those shots are both perfectly natural and rather creepy. Meanwhile, someone in the area is breaking into homes and stealing French dolls.

While the girls are outside playing, a man, whose face and head are not visible due to interesting and deliberate framing, tells them he’s repairing an air duct and needs the help of one of them. And as we see a wide shot of Emili following the man off, the film’s title comes up. The others continue to joke around, then after a while become nervous. After finding Emili’s body, Maki takes charge, telling each of the others what to do.

Six months later, on Emili’s birthday, Asako (Kyoko Koizuma) gathers the four surviving girls together and berates them for not being able to recall the killer’s face. “Your stupidity is the reason they haven’t caught him after six months,” she tells them. It’s an excellent scene, because you can understand her frustration and anger, and you wonder yourself why the girls can’t offer any help; but on the other hand, they are just children, and they’re being treated by Asako as if they’re older than they are. Plus, the design of the shots is wonderful. The four girls are on one side of the table, while Asako is on the other. Asako appoints them with either finding the killer or paying a penance.

Fifteen years later, Sae works in a beauty salon of sorts. Takahiro Otsuki, a client, wants to meet with her, and Sae’s boss tells her she must. Sae tells Takahio, “I’m defective as a female,” and you feel that the childhood incident stunted or impeded her natural growth as a woman, leaving her forever as a child. But as Takahio explains his own defects, she is won over.

I love the framing of this film. There is a scene where Sae goes to Takahiro’s sparsely furnished home, and is seated at a table deep in the shot. In the foreground is a piece of furniture, a shelving unit with nothing on it, and this works to frame Sae, enclosing her in a box, as if she is the missing French doll of her youth. And Takahiro is so delightfully creepy, in how he treats her, and in the stories he tells her, particularly the excellent one regarding the wasp.

The second chapter, “Emergency PTA Meeting,” returns to the children playing, but this time when the girls split up, we follow Maki, who goes looking for the teacher. Fifteen years later she herself works as a teacher, having become the very person who couldn’t offer help back in her youth. She is now quite strict, even to the point of drawing complaints from parents. A complaint over the confiscation of a girl’s favorite hairpin, a seemingly insignificant episode, reveals Maki’s troubled mind. “I don’t approve of grade school girls dressing up too much,” she says. She points out it was a very ornate hairpin, and adds, “Neither she nor her parents have any idea how dangerous it is to entice men before her time.” And if she was unable to help Emili, she is determined to protect the children now.

Fifteen years after the murder of Emili, Akiko is in a holding cell, telling Asako that she’s paid her penance. Immediately we see that she’s a bit unhinged, simply by the way she moves, the way she carries herself. She tells Asako that she began to live her life like a bear. One thing that’s interesting about this chapter is that it isn’t simply Emili’s murder that has affected and shaped her life, but also Asako’s reaction to hearing the news. Upon finding Emili’s body, it is Akiko that is sent to Emili’s house to tell her mother. In Asako’s rush to get to the school, she pushes Akiko aside, and Akiko falls, resulting in a bloody nose and in her new dress being ruined. And she felt somehow her pride in her new dress was at fault. As an adult, Akiko still lives at home, and becomes close to her brother’s wife’s daughter, becoming protective of her in a way in which she wasn’t of Emili.

The fourth chapter follows Yuka, who immediately strikes us as the most well adjusted. Even as a child, after Asako assigned them penance, she is the only one who seemed able to put it into perspective, telling the others, “I don’t care at all about what Emili’s mother said,” and then: “I don’t believe what grownups say. You should do whatever you want. That’s what I’m doing.” And as an adult she has her own flower shop. But it turns out she’s maybe more of a mess than the others.

In each of the episodes, we learn a bit more about Asako, who is then the focus of the final chapter. And we learn there is a lot more behind this woman than the loss of a child. And yes, there is at least one big coincidence in the story, but it is addressed as such. And the film as a whole is completely engrossing. It is so well shot, so well-constructed, so well-paced. And I got completely caught up in the mystery of it, as well as its characters.

Special Features

The second DVD includes interviews with writer/director Kiyoshi Kurosawa and cast members Kyoko Koizuma, Teruyuki Kagawa, Yu Aoi, Eiko Koike, Sakuro Ando, and Chizuru Ikewaki. Kurosawa talks about writing the screenplay, and about the character of Asako. The cast members talk about their characters. Teruyuki Kagawa also talks a bit about Kurosawa’s directing style. Yu Aoi mentions how her chapter is probably the saddest of the stories. She says, “There is a fine line between perverted desire and pure love.” These interviews total approximately twenty-three minutes. This DVD package also includes a booklet with essays by David Bordwell and Tom Mes.

Penance was written and directed by Kiyoshi Kurosawa, who also wrote and directed the excellent 2001 film Kairo. It’s based on the novel by Kanae Minato. Penance was released on Blu-ray and DVD on November 18, 2014 through Doppelganger Releasing. The film is presented in Japanese with English subtitles.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

DVD Review: My Straight Son

My Straight Son tells the story of a gay man who is suddenly forced to take care of the straight teenage son he hasn’t seen in several years. While that might sound like the set-up for a comedy, this film is actually a serious and engaging drama. It stars Guillermo Garcia as Diego and Ignacio Montes as his son, Armando.

Diego works as a photographer and is in a steady relationship, but still doesn’t want to completely commit. When Fabrizio (Socrates Serrano), his partner, suggests they move in together, Diego balks. Even though Diego says he’s not into commitment, it is clear that he loves Fabrizio. The film also introduces us to Diego’s friends and family, most of whom play strong parts in Diego’s life, before even mentioning Diego’s son.

Valentina calls Diego to tell him she needs him to take care of Armando while she’s in London getting her degree. There is a bit of clunky exposition when she tells him: “Diego, you are his father. You are no longer the fifteen-year-old brat who got a classmate pregnant.” He tells her he has no time for raising a child, but she lets him know Armando is on his way. The scene where they meet at the airport is done really well. In the foreground there is a bit of awkward distance between Diego and Armando, while in the background between them a father hugs his young son. What I really like is that though they are at first awkward around each other, there is still obviously love there. Diego’s friends are supportive. At one point Fabrizio tells him, “I know this commitment stuff doesn’t suit you, but when it comes to a son, you have no choice.”

The film then takes a more serious turn when Fabrizio is beaten up outside of a gay club and ends up in the hospital, in a coma. This immediately puts everything into perspective for Diego, who acts more tenderly toward his sleeping son, putting a blanket over him. And though Diego might want to reach out to Armando regarding the situation with his partner, he feels he can’t because Armando is upset, feeling Diego doesn’t care about him. Diego himself suffers from self-esteem issues.

My Straight Son boasts some good performances, and is beautifully shot, with a compassionate eye. As always, I could do without the scenes of characters chatting online (those scenes in movies are always dreadfully dull), but the rest of the film is quite engaging. The real title of the film is Azul Y No Tan Rosa, which translates as Blue And Not So Pink. This is a much better and more appropriate title, and whoever decided the English title should be My Straight Son ought to be smacked.

My Straight Son was directed by Miguel Ferrari, and was released on DVD on October 14, 2014 through TLA Releasing and Canteen Outlaws. The DVD contains the film’s trailer. The film is presented in Spanish with English subtitles. (By the way, whoever did the subtitles made a humorous error. According to the subtitles, Diego says, “He’s in the hospital, in a comma.” Ah yes, a most dangerous punctuation mark.)

Blu-ray Review: Cutting Class

There is an undeniable nostalgia for the music and movies of the 1980s, and certainly for the horror films of that decade. One film, howev...