Ich geh' nach Hause

Touching is the first word that comes to mind. de Oliveira goes to Cannes every year and delivers the best movie and doesn't get any prize. He's 93 and he still puts out more than a movie a year and what movies I must say. Stunning beauty and poetry come out of this work. This movie sees an amazing performance by Michel Piccoli; he goes right in deep into his character. Merci Beaucoup Mr De Oliveira!

Anyone who thinks this movie is boring is a horse's ass who should stick to car chase movies. This is a brilliant, moving, and subtle film that is all the more poignant because, it's director being a nonagenarian, it could well be his swan song, and that of its 76 year old principal as well. De Oliveira, like his lead character, will not compromise his principles by dumbing down his material. Much of the film is silent, i.e., with no dialogue precisely because it is a film, a visual medium, not a play. The done is set by De Oliveira's daring opening, which consists of its actor-character enacting the finale of an Ionesco play, which goes on for over 15 minutes. A daring move that pays off because, perhaps predictably, what happens in the play is a predictor of what is to come. The film is not unlike King Lear, in that it stresses the sadness of seeing one who once had greatness, and who still has flashes of it, in decline and perhaps at the end of his powers. It is a sublime meditation on the inevitability of death and the foolishness of fighting it. A minor masterpiece.

Rating: 9/10

It´s amazing how Manoel de Oliveira, who's 93 years old, accomplishes so much in this film using so little. The story is quite simple and there´s nothing very unusual about the characters. But the film captures the audience´s attention in a remarkable way. We get to know so much about the characters that sometimes we feel that we´re reading a book, when the author has pages and pages to tell everything about them. Michel Picoli plays a successful stage actor who, after losing wife, daughter and son-in-law in a car accident, learns to overcome his grief bringing his young grandson to live with him. Manuel de Oliveira doesn't use exciting camera angles nor spectacular takes. Everything is quite simple in his film. It's the simplicity of a master, who knows perfectly well what's he's doing. Acting is superlative. Picoli's work is on the level of the best performances of Ingmar Bergman's actors. And, of course, there's John Malkovich, with very few lines but an enormous intensity, in the role of an American film director who's shooting a movie version of James Joyce's "Ulysses". This is one of the most intelligent, delicate and touching films I've seen in many years.

I'm Going Home [Je rentre à la maison (2001)] is a

masterpiece from Manoel de Oliveira. This film is quiet,

fascinating, and truly memorable. de Oliveira has chosen

the aging, brilliant French actor Michel Piccoli to portray an

aging, brilliant French actor. The combination of skilled

director and skilled actor results in an almost perfect film.

The plot is basic and could be summarized in a paragraph.

What makes this movie a masterpiece is the manner in which

de Oliveira sets up each scene so that it is an organic

entity--linked to the scenes before and after it, but nonetheless

able to stand on its own. Each scene is, in fact, a small

masterpiece.

As an example, Piccoli's character is seated in front of the

mirror, while a makeup artist carefully, skillfully, and

professionally adds makeup. The scene is shot as if

through the mirror, so Piccoli and the makeup person are

looking at us to check the results. A man stands quietly in

the background. At first we don't understand why he is there.

Then, the makeup artists pauses, and the man begins to

place a wig on Piccoli's head. All three of these people are

portrayed as experienced, capable, and clearly expert at what

they do. They work quietly and efficiently in a manner

expected of people who have done this before, and will do it

again. The man steps back, the makeup person begins to

add a moustache, and, by the end of the scene, Piccoli's

appearance is transformed. A gem!

Think of this movie as if you were at an exhibition of Vermeer

paintings. You move from painting to painting. Most of the

works are small, often just one or two persons are portrayed,

and the lighting and composition are perfect. Each painting

is a masterpiece, and together they create a brilliant exhibition.

This is "I'm Going Home."

If you want bright colors, action, large expanses of flesh,

multiple characters, and constant movement, find an

exhibition of paintings by Rubens. Perhaps equally enjoyable,

but not Vermeer, and not de Oliveira.

"Je rentre a la maison" opens on the stage of a rather seedy theatre in Paris during the closing act of Ionesco's absurdist drama "Exit the King" - exit the king indeed!

Portraying the old king is Gilbert Valence (Michel Piccoli), a well known Parisian actor, who like the king is coming to the end of his career. Piccoli no sooner steps off stage than a group of somber friends deliver to him the bad news that his wife, daughter, and son-in-law have just been killed in an auto accident. All that now remains of his family is his young grandson.

In this remarkably understated film Oliveira uses long takes, a rarely moving camera, and natural background sounds to emphasize what's going on in the faces of his actors. After a summer of films like "Fast and Furious," "Rat Race," and "Rush Hour 2" it is a relief to be able to slow down and indulge in the more subtle nuances of the filmic art.

One of the movie's most treasured moments occurs when Piccoli is cast in an English-language film based on James Joyce's novel, "Ulysses." Appearing in a cameo role as the director of this movie-within-a-movie is John Malkovich who takes full advantage of Oliveira's long take close-ups of him as he sadly watches Piccoli having difficulties with his lines. The last shot in the film is also a long take of the face of Piccoli's grandson as he watches his grandfather pause on the landing while making his way up the stairs to his room.

"Je rentre a la maison" is a low-key version of Scott Hicks' more thickly romantic, "Hearts in Atlantis," which has a similar theme.