November

"November" is a beautiful, poetic, darkly comedic, fantastical, tragic love story that will absolutely dazzle arthouse audiences (and probably no one else). The film was made in Estonia, shot in stark black and white, and the script features encounters with the dead and the devil, bargains with witches, bullets made of sacramental bread, magic spells, hidden treasure, a bewitched Baroness, a literal personification of pestilence, an omniscient snowman, and tools that are bewitched into creatures that speak and work. The film has many scenes where there's very little dialogue, and the viewer is forced to often forced to piece together what it is that is happening, or, if what is happening is completely real or metaphorical. "November" is a fantasy masterpiece on par with many of the films that Guillermo Del Toro ("Shape of Water") and Terry Gilliam ("Brazil") have put out.

If you like surrealism and dark fairy-tales, and you haven't seen November yet, watch it before reading my review, because I wouldn't want to influence your expectations.

When I started watching November all I knew was IMDb's Drama, Fantasy, Horror categorization. Little did I know that I was about to experience two hours of a beauty so mesmerizing that it would almost bring tears to my eyes.

November is one of those rare cinematic creations that transcends the medium from mere entertainment into a profound work of art. I can think of only a handful of directors that have lifted the art of cinema to this level, such as Akira Kurosawa, Stanley Kubrick, David Lynch and Lars von Trier.

November is a surreal, dark fairy-tale that takes place in a mediaeval Estonian village. The story is a mix of Shakespearean romantic drama and rural folklore that pleasantly reminded me of the magical countryside fairy-tale atmosphere in the works of the Croatian naive art painter Ivan Generalic, as well as the imaginative surreal comics by the Greek-French comic creator Fred (Frédéric Aristidès).

The most breathtaking aspect of November is its cinematography. The film is shot in moody, darkly romantic black and white photography with beautiful lighting and screen compositions.

But November is filled with beauty in multiple layers. A beautiful soundtrack - incorporating Beethoven's Mondschein-Sonate - intensifies the atmosphere, the costumes, sets and overall art direction are gorgeous, and there's even lyrical poetry of a poignant grace. It will be a challenge to create something more romantic than November has established.

Last but not least, the casting and actors are also laudable. The two main female characters radiate a magnetic beauty, and the peasants look like they have been time-transported from an actual mediaeval village.

To all those who have difficulties understanding November: this is not Tarkovsky, Bergman, or Bunuel! This is just plain good art, with a story, good acting, awkward turns and situations - so get up from your Hollywood-trained armchair and give yourself a chance!

Adaptation of an Estonian novel, it is a fine, subtle, inspired mix of fairy tale, magic and pagan community. A fascinating meeting of love, stealing and forbidden secrets. Embroidery of dark humor and poetry and high sensitivity. Impressive cinematography, it is not surprising but real well crafted. Short, just an Estonian gem.

Based on Estonian bestselling novel "Rehepapp ehk November" by Andrus Kivirähk. Many (me included) have deemed the book to be nearly impossible to adapt onto the big screen and it shows in the film. Still writer/director Rainer Sarnet has done quite nice (bit uneven at places, perhaps) job handling this difficult source material and creating surreal (anti)fairy tale land of misery and condemnation that stays true to it's roots but still stands on its own. What I mean by anti fairy tale is the landscape is bleak, people are miserable, they deceive and steal without any idea what to to with all the treasures they grabbed but simply bury them or hide under floorboards. Love is some strange silliness according these people and it's destined to fail. They follow old beliefs and base their lives on myths and legends. Tragic and same time hilariously beautiful in the sauce of dark humor. Some of the cast are formed by non-professional actors, thus some of the acting might seem wooden, but it adds to whole charm of the movie.

'November' might be little bit difficult to follow and understand to those who haven't read the novel before. Or someone who doesn't possess much knowledge about Estonian mythology and history. At least magnificent black and white cinematography offers some visual beauty to strange surreal land for those who don't get all what is hidden in the story. 'November' is pure art-house experiment that could have gone wrong in some many places.