Assédio

I thought this was an extraordinarily beautiful film. The care and complexity of the cinematography was truly breathtaking. The acting was superb as well. I couldn't help feeling, though, that the emotion at the core (Kinsky's "love" of Shandurai) was more an evocation of an older man's (Bertolucci's) fantasy world of women. I found the emotional exploitation of Shandurai unpardonable. Here is a woman who has lost everything, and then gives up her respect and dignity because her employer gets her husband out of jail (the image of her sneaking into his bed, giving herself to him like a servant was belittling). I would have found the film truly bittersweet and empowering had Kinsky sacrificed so much and gained nothing.

Saw this movie at the Italian premiere. The movie is really marvellous. One of the best Bertolucci ever made. I'm not interested in explaining the themes of the movie or the story itself, I prefer spending some words on the work of the director; fast, short, colorful and sensual are the right adjectives to describe Bertolucci's new way to direct. Let's think about "The Last Emperor" or "Little Buddha" and of their big dimensions. They were full of opulence. "L'Assedio" is not. Just the opposite. Intimate, short and light but at the same time full of emotions. Bertolucci's fans could recognize the presence of the director's touch also in this film.

Take everything you ever knew about Hollywood and filmdom and flush it. Open you mind and your heart and, if you're lucky, "Besieged" will speak to you of love like no other. Make no mistake, this film is not about romance or sex or even closeness. It is about what love should be; pure, unsolicited, unencumbered giving. It is a sad testament to the shallowness of popular concepts of giving-to-get love that this film received lukewarm reviews, one star from Ebert, and a mere 6.5 by IMDB.com users. Sometimes the only way to love someone is to set them free.

What to say? Besieged is a timeless, unabashedly romantic masterpiece. Poetic and original, this movie studies two people locked in a slow dance of seduction. Based on James Lasdun's short story, "The Siege", the film reveals that love need not not be reduced to self-satisfaction and immediate gratification or communication to trifling words. Can love transcend ostensibly insurmountable objects before the principle characters (such as the dizzying height of the spiral staircase)? Perhaps. One thing is for sure: this film will strike a resounding chord in your heart! Not only does the glorious music speak volumes of the character and background of Mr. Kinsky, a wealthy European pianist, and his live-in housekeeper, Shandurai, it also pitch-perfectly articulates feelings too buried for either to verbalize. Indeed, when used as a medium to express emotions, music is much more effective than words. In the few instances they make eye contact, words seem to be superfluous. With minimal dialogue, it's incredible how Shandurai and Kinsky find ways to communicate and impact the other's life. The collision of their two worlds is celebrated in the hauntingly beautiful piece Kinsky composes for Shandurai,"Ostinato". The sounds and the deafening silences, the sights and the suspicious disappearances are all exquisitely executed by Bertolucci. With Claire Peploe, he fashions a tale that is at once simple and profound. Bringing the story to life is a powerhouse cast. Thandie Newton as the beleaguered and reticent Shandurai is a revelation. David Thewlis as the lovelorn, crafty, idiosyncratic ideograph Kinsky is way beyond "good enough". His portrayal of a man who achieves liberation through sacrifice is captivating. Also marvellous are the performances of John C. Ojwang as the griot and Claudio Santamaria as the buddy. Unlike the majority of movies that will be released this year, this one will etch an indelible impression on your mind and spirit. But now I've said too much?

What a lovely film this is! I usually do not go for the kind of heavy-handed aestheticism Bertolucci has been partial to in his last few movies ("Stealing Beauty", "Little Buddha", "The Last Emperor" et al.), so imagine my surprise when this movie turned out to be an exquisitely rendered intimate love story. There are basically only two main characters: Jason Kinsky, a reclusive expatriate British pianist in Rome with an uncertain past (played here with great delicacy and understated charm by David Thewlis, in a 180 degree turnabout from the profane misanthrope he played in "Naked"), and Thandie Newton's Shandurai, his African housekeeper, who fled her strife-torn native country to train as a medical doctor in Rome while supporting herself by performing domestic drudgery. The striking, almost wordless opening sequence serves as an introduction to Shandurai's past. Then the camera rapidly cuts to the present day Rome, where already besotted Kinsky orbits around his beautiful and distant housekeeper, not realizing that her nights are tormented by the memory of her husband, a political prisoner left back in Africa. When Kinky approaches Shandurai with a hasty declaration, he is met with a steely and passionate resistance. Chastened, he retreats into a polite distance from the object of his desire. But from then on, nothing goes as expected. For the rest of the movie is about the change in the balance of this relationship, and the singular way through which the capitulation of Shandurai is achieved. The central sacrifice in the story is a grand romantic gesture of Gastbian proportion, simultaneously selfless and selfish.

I was completely enthralled at the way this movie unraveled itself, layer by delicate layer, with little dialogue but with a kaleidoscope of imagery and most of all, with music. Bertolucci is frequently obssessed with his heroine's beauty, and this is no exception. The camera frequently lingers on the gentle curve of Newton's arm, the slope of her back, and on her great dark eyes. However, Bertolucci has for once given us a compelling female character, a woman of determination as well as beauty, unlike his usual bevy of vacuous/self destructive mannequins (e.g. Liv Tyler in "Stealing Beauty", Dominique Sanda in "1900", etc). Shandurai's new-world vigor and her sense of purpose contrast starkly with Kinsky's aimlessness, his solitude, and especially his music, which permeates the movie with exquisite melancholy (the music consists mainly of solo piano pieces by Bach, Chopin, Scrabin and Coltrane). Likewise, the effect of their relationship on Kinsky is expressed most effectively through the transformation in his music, as primitive beats of Africa are blended into the lyricism of Kinsky's composition.

The movie is short, sparse and as different as night and day from the usually action-driven fares of Hollywood. Bertolucci, in a rare form, has fashioned a truly adult film that deftly navigates through the complexities of the human heart.