Eastern European cinema is a diverse subject that has been scarcely regarded, especially compared to other world cinemas. From screen analysis to personal accounts, this blog is a meditation on Eastern European cultural values with emphasis on totalitarian iconography and other clandestine ciphers that have become motifs across the films of Romania, Hungary, Bulgaria, Poland, Russia, Czech Republic and East Germany.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Film Review: Sea Salt (2015) Andrei Rautu
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
Andrei Rautu’s short drama Sea Salt is about the silent struggle of
a dysfunctional couple. Laura and Robert seem frustrated with one another but
have no idea how to voice their problems apart from a couple of passive
aggressive attempts – he asks her what she is thinking about and she answers
“I’m thinking about us” after which she sighs and stares at the ceiling in a
dismal manner. They seem bored with one another, always on their phones
ignoring the menace that exists between them. They drive to the beach, perhaps
in an attempt to reconnect but when they step out of the car they walk
separately, alienated from one another and from themselves as individuals. When
she returns to the car to warm up, she begins to squirm in her seat anxiously
while tears begin to flow. Back by the dreary sea, Robert stares down at the
waves crashing against the rocks. The water is stubborn just like their
relationship, but, like the waves breaking on the shore, they must break the
silence between them, and they do.
Monday, January 11, 2016
Film Review: The Dinner/ Darka (2014) Suela Bako
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
Suela Bako’s The Dinner is a hyperreal gem. At the core of the narrative is the eldest sibling, Diana’s grief through the loss of her mother and the confusion she feels when her father proposes to marry his new girlfriend, Entela. The action takes place at a casual dinner party involving her father, a work colleague and his wife along with Diana’s soon to be stepmother. The hand held camera follows the awkward silence, which converts to a Roy Andersson type of absurdism as one of the female guests bursts into a fit of laughter. Diana resembles a deity as she sits at the table, brilliantly lit as if belonging to another world. She possesses the strength of the mythological goddess, she is nurturing with her young sister and resilient towards any challenges she must face in life. The Dinner is about accepting the pain of grief, understanding how to manage it and allowing the love of others to prevail over the darkness.
Suela Bako’s The Dinner is a hyperreal gem. At the core of the narrative is the eldest sibling, Diana’s grief through the loss of her mother and the confusion she feels when her father proposes to marry his new girlfriend, Entela. The action takes place at a casual dinner party involving her father, a work colleague and his wife along with Diana’s soon to be stepmother. The hand held camera follows the awkward silence, which converts to a Roy Andersson type of absurdism as one of the female guests bursts into a fit of laughter. Diana resembles a deity as she sits at the table, brilliantly lit as if belonging to another world. She possesses the strength of the mythological goddess, she is nurturing with her young sister and resilient towards any challenges she must face in life. The Dinner is about accepting the pain of grief, understanding how to manage it and allowing the love of others to prevail over the darkness.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Film Review: Iulian: A True Story (2014) Alex Mironescu
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
Alex Mironescu’s docu-drama Iulian: A True Story is a true story
about humanity. Iulian walks the streets as a modern shepherd, abandoned dogs
follow him acting as sheep dogs while the almost-mystical fog engulfs the image.
He treads through the grey landscape as if to mimic one of Béla Tarr’s anomic male personas - completely alienated from the ‘real’
world, from society. Iulian grew up in an orphanage, a product of dictator Nicolae
Ceaușescu’s absurd banning of contraceptives in communist
Romania. He eats his meals in the homes of a couple of generous residents and
sleeps in a tent which he assembles every evening in a nearby vacant lot that
is riddled with pollution. Iulian seems oddly content with his life, perhaps
because it is simple and absent of the stress common individuals suffer.
Friday, January 1, 2016
Film Still of the Month: One Floor Below/ Un etaj mai jos (2015) Radu Muntean
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)