A Film a Week - Banu

 previously published on Asian Movie Pulse

Azerbaijan’s cinema history dates back to the late 19th century, but the national cinema has been dominated by male filmmakers ever since. Such lack of diversity tends to push the national cinema to the margins of the global festival circuit, making it obscure for the wider audiences. Maybe the young Los Angeles-based actress-turned-filmmaker Tahmina Rafaella could provide the solution to the problem with her directorial debut “Banu” which premiered at 2022 edition of Venice as a part of Biennale College Cinema programme.

It would be the easiest to describe it as a riff on the Dardenne brothers’ “Two Days, One Night” (2014), but on the topic of divorce and set against the backdrop of the Second Nagorno-Karabakh War which took place in the autumn of 2020. The titular protagonist, played by the filmmaker herself, is a school teacher in a problem. Her rich and influential husband Javid (Zaur Shafiyev) took their son Ruslan (the newcomer Emin Asgarov) from her just days before the final court hearing about their divorce case. Preoccupied with the war and the imposed curfew, the police is unwilling to assist her, so her lawyer (Jafar Hasan) suggests that her only hope in the custody battle is to find the witness outside of her immediate family who would confirm that Javid was abusive towards her or Ruslan. However, the trouble is that virtually nobody, not even her own mother (Melek Abbaszadeh), is willing to confront Javid and his family directly.

As Rafaella said in the interviews, the problem of Azerbaijani women being able to legally divorce, but unable to obtain the custody of their children practically is a long-standing one in the country. It could be linked to the patriarchal culture that has survived the secularisation during the communist, Soviet times, as well as the economic liberalisation of the 90s and the oil boom in the 21st century that brought growth, but only to the chosen few.

We can see the details of that on the margins of the usually long hand-held takes behind the back and over the shoulder of the protagonist in Touraj Aslani's cinematography, in which Baku is portrayed as a modern capital city, but with a lot of architectural paradoxes that highlight the differences betweentradition and modernity, as well as between the haves and the have-nots. A high point is also the relatively quiet sound design by Ensieh Maleki in which the dialogues overlap with the news from the radio and the TV sets, along with the street sounds of the crowds that celebrate the military successes and chant in support of the families of the fallen soldiers.

From that, it is obvious that Tahmina Rafaella as a filmmaker has the talent and the method to create and capture the atmosphere, while also commanding the screen as an actress with considerable presence in every scene of the film. Her effort is complemented with those of the supporting cast members, with Melek Abbaszadeh and Zaur Shafiyev especially in the spotlight whose characters oppose the protagonist in the generational and social conflicts, respectively.

However, the most interesting aspect of “Banu” is its treatment of the war that is not the primary topic of the film, but serves as more than just a simple coulisse, since it is the primary concern of the whole society at the moment. In the end, Rafaella slightly overplays that card with some heavy-handed symbolism to prove a point that it might be men who are fighting in the trenches, but the women are those who are losing their loved ones, but “Banu” is still a very interesting and strong first-time filmmaking effort.

A Film a Week - Role Model / Vzornik

 previously published on Cineuropa

Is starting afresh ever an option? Can we simply reset our lives? Is it up to us and only us, or does it actually depend on the environment? These are the questions that filmmaker Nejc Gazvoda (known for 2011’s A Trip and 2013’s Dual, as well as for collaborating on the script for Rok Biček’s award-winning Class Enemy) asks in his third fiction feature, Role Model, which premiered recently at the Festival of Slovenian Film, while its domestic distribution is scheduled for this autumn.

The recently divorced Maja (Mojca Funkl, glimpsed in Miroslav Mandić’s Sanremo and Matevž Luzar’s Orchestra) and her 15-year-old son Jan (newcomer France Mandić, the son of famous Slovenian actor Marko) come from Ljubljana to an unnamed small town on the Croatian border. It is spring in the pandemic year of 2021, and the schools are about to re-open after months of online teaching. Maja and Jan have to “go” to the same school, she as the psychologist and he as a final-year student, and it presents a challenge for both of them, especially after it becomes clear that they are not the types that fit in easily and that they had something of a posh life back in Ljubljana.

During her first week at work, Maja strikes up a rivalry with another newly appointed psychologist, Neja (Klara Kuk), over their differences in opinion on how to approach the problematic suicidal ninth-grader Jakob and his impulsive mother Marina (Marina Redžepović, of The Staffroom fame, in an impressive turn here). On the other hand, Jan, being the “new guy”, gets hazed and bullied by his class, especially when he unwittingly takes over the title of “Sunshine” from Jakob in an especially brutal “game”. Both mother and son meet people in the neighbourhood who may potentially offer them a chance to escape – for her, it is a slacker named Gregor (Matej Puc), who lives next door, and for him a mysterious, awkward, slightly older dude also named Jan (Jure Henigman), who fancies himself as a musician and martial artist. But as Maja succumbs more and more to alcohol, Jan thinks of ending things for good the only way he can think of…

Gazvoda establishes a beautiful and functional cinematic language early on, relying on static, usually long-distance shots in the cinematography of Jan Šuster, which suggest observation, and a foggy colour scheme that hints at the confusion of moving into a new environment. While the abundant use of classical music ramps up the tension, the script co-written by Gazvoda and Tomislav Zajec also offers some relief in the awkwardly humorous moments hinging on Maja’s nature as being stuck up and snobbish, and the neighbour Jan acting weird. Also, Gazvoda’s work with France Mandić is stellar, but it also shows that the latter is a natural-born actor capable even of micro-acting in his first role.

Unfortunately, Role Model loses momentum and breaks its own “rules”, directing-wise, as the script raises the stakes constantly and becomes more of a standard-issue film about bullying and the reaction to it – and it almost falls apart completely in the final section. While the filmmaker’s matter-of-fact attitude that teenagers can be cruel bastards (as is also the case with most of the adults) is quite refreshing, the influences of other, better films on the same topic are pretty transparent here. In the end, it seems that the helmer proverbially bit off more than he could chew, so he ended up being on the trail of something, but not quite catching up with it.

A Film a Week - Kick and Scream / Baci se na pod

 previously published on Cineuropa

Divorce is one of the most common topics in cinema, all over the world. The storytelling approach of presenting the same events from different angles and points of view is not new either: ever since Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon, many filmmakers have employed it in their works. The question with Kick and Scream, the feature-length directorial debut by Croatian actress Nina Violić, who has already written and directed a couple of shorts, is: does the approach serve the topic well?

Kick and Scream world-premiered at the recently concluded Festival of Mediterranean Film in Split, where it won the Hook Award in the feature-length competition, and is also competing for the Golden Barge at the Vukovar Film Festival. In between the two gatherings, it was released theatrically in Croatia. Given that its topic is quite universal, and that the film is artistically accomplished, further festival bookings should not come as a surprise.

What we see are the last few hours in the marriage of an unnamed couple, separated into three equally long chapters that are told from the perspectives of both of the spouses and their young son, Igor (newcomer Bruno Frketić Bajić). The first part is told from the child’s perspective, and here, the verbal confrontations between the parents remain largely in the background, since Igor is more interested in playing with the “dusties”, his imaginary friends made of the dust he collects, than in listening to the adults quarrelling. The visit from his father’s American aunt, Maggie (Lee Delong), interrupts his playtime, but also serves to show the audience that the kid is well aware of what is going on.

The other two chapters are told from the parents’ perspectives – first the father’s (Goran Bogdan, globally recognised for his role in the series Fargo and Srdan Golubović’s film Father), and then the mother’s (Nina Violić herself). We do not get to learn the reasons for their separation, but only their very different standpoints and takes on things at that very moment.

Each of the chapters would work well as a separate short film, but when welded together, they make a standout feature. Violić’s approach demanded a great deal of fine-tuning in every department, from the scriptwriting and directing to the acting and cinematography, because everything here is a matter of perspective, and the key is how to code it. From her clear, rigorous and finely honed sense of coding, it is clear that Violić has put a lot of effort and thought into it as both the screenwriter and the director.

Things are also impressive in the acting department. While child actor Bruno Frketić Bajić seems natural and relaxed all the way through, and Lee Delong provides a jovial note to her character, the performers playing the spouses are actually tasked with multiple roles each, because they both see themselves and the others differently, depending on the perspective. Goran Bogdan is as reliable as ever, both as a confused (as his character sees himself) and an abusive man (as the wife sees him), while Violić channels the feeling of being fed up (from the perspective of her character) and neuroticism (as the husband sees it) in an emotionally compelling way.

Kick and Scream was also demanding on a technical level, from the stop-motion animation sequence involving Igor’s “dusties” to the camerawork by seasoned DoP Vanja Černjul, where angles play a key part, plus the smooth editing of Vladimir Gojun. This all makes it one of the best thought-out and most innovative divorce dramas of recent years.

A Film a Week - Verdict

previously published on Asian Movie Pulse

The topic of domestic violence is usually a tricky one. Luckily, the Filipino director Raymund Ribay Gutierrez picks the right approach: the straight one for his feature debut “Verdict”. The film has just premiered at Venice, in Orizzonti competition and its universal appeal of domestic drama combined with procedural about the faulty state of the country’s bureaucracy should assure its vibrant and long festival life.

The film opens at home with Joy Santos (Max Eigenmann, quite active on the domestic film and TV scene in the recent years) and her daughter Angel (Jordhen Suan). Their evening routine is suddenly interrupted when Joy’s husband and Angel’s father Dante (Kristoffer King, also pretty prolific lately) comes back home violently drunk and angry about some miscommunication between him and Joy. As the argument gets more and more heated, he gets physically violent toward his spouse, even hitting their child who gets in between. After slashing him with a kitchen knife in an obvious act of self-defense, Joy, pretty beaten up, runs with Angel to the nearest police station.

There is no doubt that it is not the first time Joy takes a beating from her husband and it is also granted that it would not be the last, unless she does something about it. So she files the charges against her violent husband and puts him in jail, at least temporarily, while the two of them move to a safe house kind of establishment. The trial at the court of law ensues and, as it is usually the case, it is less about justice or even law per se. So the lawyer’s games of rhetorics and establishing the narrative in which the evidence and the testimonies by witnesses would or would not stand, while everything is more or less left to the judge’s frivolous interpretation.

No doubt that domestic violence is still a big thing even in the most developed parts of the world and that countries with stronger patriarchal culture face even more problems in that regard. It is usually not the matter of positive legislative that condemns any form of discrimination and abuse of (physical and let us say economic and political) power, but the one of patterns deeply rooted in culture. Most of the cases are not being reported for various reasons and even those that are processed by the police and the court are being treated as some kind of minor offenses.

Gutierrez knows it and is not shy to show it openly using the stylistic choices along the lines of cinema verite and its echoes all over the world, usually relying on long, hand-held takes done by the cinematographer Joshua Reyles and somewhat rough editing by Diego Marx Dobles. The emotional effect is maximized even before the film’s greatest trick – the smooth transition from the domestic violence drama to procedural and court thriller of sorts that also corresponds with the transition from an individual to a more universal level. The ending with a twist is also a treat that deserves to remain spoiler-free.

It is evident that Gutierrez has a good understanding with its cast and crew and that should not be an issue since he has already worked with all of them on a similarly themed short film titled “Judgement” that treats only the courtroom part of the story. In the process of converting a short to a feature film, the actors had the most work, since their characters were developed over the course of it. Both Eigenmann and King are quite compelling in their performances, without slip-ups to the territory of over-expressive melodramatic acting, although her control is visibly better than his. Luckily, they both have to interact with a number of supporting characters played by competently relatively unknown actors who serve as the perfect buffer between the two of them.

All things considered, “Verdict” is more than a film with a good cause. Its importance is multi-layered and being simply a very good film also contributes to it.