markedasread
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Stranded in a war-torn-worn-down Tsibili in the aftermath of the conflicts between Abkhazia and Georgia in the early 90′s, 12-year-old Tedo and a slightly reluctant mother find themselves living as refugees, trying to make ends meet. As Tedo's glue sniffing friends are arrested for petty crimes and the mother prefer scummy lovers over him, the young boy embarks on a journey back to Abkhazia to find the father left behind.
The Other Bank much reminisces of Greek director Angelopoulos film Landscape in the Mist, where the children also leave what they call home on a quest to find a missing father. They both encounter various kinds of people who treat them in various ways, some times quite unexpected. What makes The Other Bank interesting in particular is that it is set in such a remote location, showcasing a reality (and the scenes it takes place in) characterized by poverty, uncertainty and everything else that war brings with. The boy moves through desolate landscapes and cross borders where passing may rob you of your life.
Politics strongly pervades pic, but philosophical aspects hand in hand with a few visually impaling scenes and a grand acting by the lead performer turns it into a definite winner.
The Other Bank much reminisces of Greek director Angelopoulos film Landscape in the Mist, where the children also leave what they call home on a quest to find a missing father. They both encounter various kinds of people who treat them in various ways, some times quite unexpected. What makes The Other Bank interesting in particular is that it is set in such a remote location, showcasing a reality (and the scenes it takes place in) characterized by poverty, uncertainty and everything else that war brings with. The boy moves through desolate landscapes and cross borders where passing may rob you of your life.
Politics strongly pervades pic, but philosophical aspects hand in hand with a few visually impaling scenes and a grand acting by the lead performer turns it into a definite winner.
In Philippe Lioret's latest film Welcome the title is obviously a contradiction, but the meaning of the contradiction itself is just as obvious. It's about illegal aliens in Europe, in this specific film narrowed down to Calais in France. And they are certainly not welcome.
Pic holds an unsettling tone throughout. While story lines tend to diverge, it's reminiscent of Ulrich Seidl's Import/Export in that it tells a story about people in motion in contemporary Europe. People whose conditions were bad from their take-off point, but becomes nonexistent in the grand, boarder-less EU. The limitations with this modern refugee policy of EU is that it only benefits our own. This is all old news for Lioret's protagonist Bilal (Firat Ayverdi) who comes from war-torn Iraq. His journey to Calais where the story begins has been long and painful, and the way to his love in London seems to stretch far beyond the horizon for the seventeen year old refugee.
These are harsh times, Lioret proclaims through images of a port district infested with immigrants, battering cops and even authorities that manifest a despicable manner not only towards refugees but just as well to people trying to help them. One of them is Simon (Vincent Lindon), a disgraced ex-champion in swimming. He seeks atonement in Bilal for his previous mistakes in life and the two becomes committed to each other. But in these harsh times nothing is certain and struggle lays ahead for both of them.
Philippe Lioret covers pretty much the whole lot of it. Each of his characters carries around on fear, despair, desires, love, longings and struggle. It is classic ingredients taken from the ordinary lives of those immigrants. In Welcome, however, it blends well with the non-immigrants as well. It is something they have to live with constantly, but something that is exposed to us at times as well. It is indeed an unpleasant take on modern refugee policy, but it is nevertheless a necessary take.
Pic holds an unsettling tone throughout. While story lines tend to diverge, it's reminiscent of Ulrich Seidl's Import/Export in that it tells a story about people in motion in contemporary Europe. People whose conditions were bad from their take-off point, but becomes nonexistent in the grand, boarder-less EU. The limitations with this modern refugee policy of EU is that it only benefits our own. This is all old news for Lioret's protagonist Bilal (Firat Ayverdi) who comes from war-torn Iraq. His journey to Calais where the story begins has been long and painful, and the way to his love in London seems to stretch far beyond the horizon for the seventeen year old refugee.
These are harsh times, Lioret proclaims through images of a port district infested with immigrants, battering cops and even authorities that manifest a despicable manner not only towards refugees but just as well to people trying to help them. One of them is Simon (Vincent Lindon), a disgraced ex-champion in swimming. He seeks atonement in Bilal for his previous mistakes in life and the two becomes committed to each other. But in these harsh times nothing is certain and struggle lays ahead for both of them.
Philippe Lioret covers pretty much the whole lot of it. Each of his characters carries around on fear, despair, desires, love, longings and struggle. It is classic ingredients taken from the ordinary lives of those immigrants. In Welcome, however, it blends well with the non-immigrants as well. It is something they have to live with constantly, but something that is exposed to us at times as well. It is indeed an unpleasant take on modern refugee policy, but it is nevertheless a necessary take.
In "Police, Adjective", Romanian director Corneliu Porumboiu devotes himself to the story of a small town cop reluctant of busting a minor for endorsing hashish with friends. Although vague at first, we learn that the civil police Cristi is having an unease conscience about nailing the young man, which may inflict seven years in prison for what Cristi believes to be a petty crime that will – soon enough – be looked upon more liberated. Throughout pic we follow his daily routines and interactions in the downbeat and austere town of Vaslui, including scenes of parodic bureaucracy and laudable lengthy takes.
"Police, Adjective" is admittedly in many ways difficult to interpret. The first half of the film deals with classic police work (classic as in reality, not classic as in previously depicted on film) including Cristi's pursuit of suspects and filing reports. For an audience used to clustered action flicks, this may seem as tedious and unbearable to endure. From a more objective perspective, I find it somewhat original and daring. This course of the film is harmless, it is on the contrary a certain, yet inevitable cul-de-sac initiated by a mere typo, that pushes it in a slightly too academic stand. On the other hand, it could also be considered an ironic twist when deciding how Cristi's moral dilemmas should be solved.
One of the more unfortunate aspects of Porumboiu's directing, in particular substantial for "Police, Adjective" but nonetheless equally visible in previous film "12:08 East of Bucharest", is that the (black) humor sometimes may appear so subtle that when juxtaposed to foreigners it can be completely lost (in translation.)
Watching Porumboiu's battle between an objective and supreme law versus Cristi's subjective conscientious law is evidently quite fascinating, despite being a bit too submissive at times.
"Police, Adjective" is admittedly in many ways difficult to interpret. The first half of the film deals with classic police work (classic as in reality, not classic as in previously depicted on film) including Cristi's pursuit of suspects and filing reports. For an audience used to clustered action flicks, this may seem as tedious and unbearable to endure. From a more objective perspective, I find it somewhat original and daring. This course of the film is harmless, it is on the contrary a certain, yet inevitable cul-de-sac initiated by a mere typo, that pushes it in a slightly too academic stand. On the other hand, it could also be considered an ironic twist when deciding how Cristi's moral dilemmas should be solved.
One of the more unfortunate aspects of Porumboiu's directing, in particular substantial for "Police, Adjective" but nonetheless equally visible in previous film "12:08 East of Bucharest", is that the (black) humor sometimes may appear so subtle that when juxtaposed to foreigners it can be completely lost (in translation.)
Watching Porumboiu's battle between an objective and supreme law versus Cristi's subjective conscientious law is evidently quite fascinating, despite being a bit too submissive at times.