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.
Showing posts with label Film Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Film Review. Show all posts
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Film Review: Some of Us/ (2014) Anja Kavic
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
It is hard to believe that Anja Kavic’s powerful drama Some of Us is a short film because the theatrical
delivery of the narrative engrosses the viewer to a point where time seems as
though it has lapsed. The film begins as a young woman paces through a run down
train in a rail yard. Suddenly voices begin to echo throughout the carriage as
if to taunt the woman and the viewer will question: Are these voices from the
past or the present? She steps out of the train where another woman awaits
seated on the steps of another carriage. A menacing atmosphere invades the
viewer’s conscious at this point as the women begin to talk. We find out that
they are sisters and, as the tension in their interaction rises, we come to
understand that their relationship as siblings is dysfunctional. The drama is
intense in Some of Us and this is due
to the phenomenal acting – we really begin to believe the extent of the issues between
the sisters, particularly when one takes out a gun threatening to shoot the
other. And yet, the trains remain motionless and silent in opposition of their
purpose. There is no progression, only a collapse of negative emotions and
eventually a disturbing meltdown
It is hard to believe that Anja Kavic’s powerful drama Some of Us is a short film because the theatrical
delivery of the narrative engrosses the viewer to a point where time seems as
though it has lapsed. The film begins as a young woman paces through a run down
train in a rail yard. Suddenly voices begin to echo throughout the carriage as
if to taunt the woman and the viewer will question: Are these voices from the
past or the present? She steps out of the train where another woman awaits
seated on the steps of another carriage. A menacing atmosphere invades the
viewer’s conscious at this point as the women begin to talk. We find out that
they are sisters and, as the tension in their interaction rises, we come to
understand that their relationship as siblings is dysfunctional. The drama is
intense in Some of Us and this is due
to the phenomenal acting – we really begin to believe the extent of the issues between
the sisters, particularly when one takes out a gun threatening to shoot the
other. And yet, the trains remain motionless and silent in opposition of their
purpose. There is no progression, only a collapse of negative emotions and
eventually a disturbing meltdown
Monday, March 28, 2016
Film Review: Post Mortem (2015) Jakov Torić
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
In Post Mortem Jakov Torić presents a dissection of a summer past through a compilation of shots taken at a beachside resort during the colder months of the year. The spaces filmed are deserted and bleak while Torić teases his audience with diegetic sound captured during a crowded summer season – we hear children playing, a boat splashing across the water, people gathered together, chatting and enjoying their holiday. Now only remnants of the past linger – shops that were once populated are temporarily closed while the streets remain empty with no one in sight. Torić’s film captures the idea that without the sun, without the warmth this place is nothing. Even paradise fails to last forever.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Film Review: Der Kübelreiter (2015) Stefan Malešević
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
Mentored by none
other than Béla Tarr, Film Factory student Stefan Malešević delivers a black and white short in
the tradition of the renowned Hungarian filmmaker. We have a lonely man, a
simple and cold dwelling with a coal heater, apocalyptic weather dominated by a
blizzard and a strange interaction between two individuals. However, unlike
Tarr’s films, there is something subhuman about the characters in Der Kübelreiter. Malešević’s references to Kafka are uniquely
expressed through the amalgamation between human and animals – the characters croak
like frogs when they communicate – but we also notice sensitivity within these
creatures. Malešević presents us with a postmodern meditation of life, stripped
to its bare necessities whereupon simple man becomes problematic.
Monday, February 15, 2016
Film Review: Gimi is Not in the Film (2015) Sandra Rad
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
Sandra Rad’s satiric short Gimi is not in the Film is both humorous
and dark detailing a young woman’s distress as she marches down a highway with
a suitcase, which we soon learn contains a dead pet named Gimi. The protagonist
calls the owner, perhaps a sister or a friend, pleading for her to understand
that she is not as fault for its death and will prove it by taking Gimi to a
vet and finding out the cause of its death. She continues on her quest down the
road as cars overtake her almost blowing her summer dress away. Suddenly two
men approach her creating a threatening atmosphere – the viewer becomes nervous
of an impending assault as they stare the woman down head to toe. They assist
her with her suitcase and inquire about its contents. Embarrassed about the
situation, she answers “some computer parts” at which point the men glance at
each other at the opportunity and run away with the suitcase. In the tradition of New Romanian Cinema, Rad
focuses on a current issue faced in Romania, that is, the existence of petty
crime. She makes a commentary on the idea that the behaviors of the communist
past, where individuals needed to steal, exchange foodstuffs and buy black
market in order to survive still exist in the present. And it will take a very
long time for such things to repair.
Monday, February 8, 2016
Film Review: Libelula (2015) Mihai Salajan
By Olivia Maria Hărşan
There is a relentless energy in Mihai
Salajan’s Libelula that interchanges
between moments of light and darkness. Focusing on documenting the underlying
concepts of existence and being, the film reveals to us a compilation of stills
and motion images that call for a metaphysical exploration of life. Accompanied
by a haunting soundtrack, Salajan’s portaits of mundanity – an old man arguing
with a tradesman, a cat grazing in the grass, a woman enjoying a meal in a
Chinese restaurant – these commonplace activities become sinister and
nauseating. Libelula accurately
documents daily life in the “cement boxes”— apartments that act as visual
reminders of the communist past. The narrator merely re-captures these flashes
of existence, what is now, juxtaposing them with artifacts of a bygone era,
what was… then.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



