A Film a Week - Stomp / Chavittu

 previously published on Asian Movie Pulse

Chavittu Nadakam is a performance art form resembling European forms of opera and ballet that is rooted in the Indian state of Kerala and practiced by the state’s Catholic community. The language of the performance is the state’s official language (Malayalam), the actors perform the dancing and singing alongside acting, while the musical background is on various percussion instruments, but dominated by bells and drums, while the floor boards of the stage also fulfill the soundscape.

It was rarely portrayed in cinema, so the film “Chavittu” (or “Stomp”, according to its international title, for a good reason since stomping is the core part of the mechanics of the dance itself) written and directed by Rahman brothers Sajas and Shinos of “Toy Maker” (2015) and “Vasanthi” (2021) fame is something of a novelty both on the topical and on the approach level. The film premiered at the Harbour section of International Film Festival Rotterdam, where we had the chance to see it.

The brothers open the film with a wide shot of a small group of people unloading a minibus parked in front of a provincial theatre called Highness Auditorium. When the bus moves, it is revealed that the people we saw are a part of a larger group – a theatre/dance company and that they are about to perform at the mentioned venue, as it is shown with the following succession of static shots of their preparations.

From that point on, Chavittu goes in various directions. One follows the preparation process on a remote location that preceded the performance itself, the other shows the content of the play that is both folkloric and contemporary, while it differs from the usual Chavittu Nadakam Bible-related topics, while the third one covers the day of the performance and the distractions posed by people holding various official positions, since our guys are not the only ones to perform at the show. The nature of their distractions and disruptions are actually the most telling thing in the film, as they expose the nature of the still caste-dominated society.

It is not an exceptionally new thing to point out that the creative and the performance processes are not apart from the world that surrounds them, and Rahmans are not trying to re-invent the wheel here in that regard. However, their approach is actually quite new and refreshing, as it is focused on blurring the lines between the documentary and the fiction, the observation and the scripting. From that point of view, they manage to achieve a balance that feels quite organic.

The majority of the cast comes from the ranks of Little Earth School of Theatre and the guys play the double role here: they are the subjects of the observational documentary and the actors in the play, constantly balancing between the most natural of the behaviour disregarding the camera and the theatrics needed for them to do their job. The technical components of the film are also impressive, from the versatile camerawork by Mukesh Muraledharan to the gentle original guitar theme by Ajeesh Anto that stands in stark contrast with the drum-dominated score of the company’s performance to Arun Lal’s choreography. Sajas and Shinos Rahman, who serve as their own editors, blend the whole thing smoothly, making “Chavittu” quite pleasant, informative and unique viewing experience that paints the layered picture of a world that is unknown for the majority of the viewers without exoticizing it.

Fucking with Nobody

 kritika objavljena na XXZ

2020.

režija: Hannaleena Hauru

scenario: Hannaleena Hauru, Lasse Poser

uloge: Hannaleena Hauru, Samuel Kujala, Lasse Poser, Pietu Wikström, Sara Melleri, Hanna-Kaisa Tiainen, Tanja Heinänen, Jussi Lankoski, Anna Kuusamo

Je li danas, u doba apsolutne javnosti kada se putem društvenih mreža sve ubrzo nađe pod lupom onih spremnih da osude i organizuju protest, uopšte moguće napraviti komediju koja se bavi vezama i seksualnošću? Stari obrasci se smatraju ograničavajućim, heteronormativnim i opresivnim, pa se i estetika i etika posmatraju kroz beskonačne prizme moći i privilegija, tako da o romantičnim komedijama sa strogo definisanim rodnim ulogama na kakve smo navikli skoro da nema ni govora. Što se komedija seksualne tematike tiče, s novim puritanizmom stojimo još i slabije jer uhvatiti pravu proporciju pristojnosti i provokativnosti (da film, je li, ne bude dosadan) teže je nego pronaći iglu u plastu sena.

Fakat je da se u poslednjih nekoliko decenija svet promenio i da smo svi skupa postali osetljiviji i svesniji nekih stvari, kao što je fakat i da su sfera privatnog i internog gotovo isparile, pa javni i umetnički diskurs sve više liče na minsko polje. Međutim, baš u delu sveta gde su tolerancija i politička korektnost najviše uzele maha, ali se po demokratskoj tradiciji o svemu može raspravljati i (skoro) sa svime zezati, dakle u Skandinaviji, još uvek je moguće snimiti jedan takav film koji pretenduje i da bude provokativan, i da bude zabavan i da bude društveno relevantan, pa makar zbog toga morao da bude upakovan u nekoliko slojeva meta-«celofana«.

Fucking with Nobody dolazi nam iz Finske, i to od autorice Hannaleene Hauru koja je svojim dugometražnim prvencem objavila rat ispraznim letnjim venčanjima, a recentnim srednjemetražnim filmom Metatitanic kroz meta-filmsku formu ispitala izazove pred kojima se nalazi srednjeklasna heteroseksualna i heteronormativna romantična ljubav. Film je svetsku premijeru imao u Veneciji u okviru programa Biennale College Cinema, a nakon Seville i SxSW-a u Austinu zaigrao je i na letnjoj ediciji, odnosno drugom delu Rotterdama.

Hanna (Hauru) relativno je neafirmisana filmska autorica svesna da je među retkim ženama u predominantno muškom svetu. Nakon što izvisi za unosnu »tezgu« režije vampirskog filma od strane svog rivala Kristiana (Lankoski) koji je do posla došao preko veze sa scenaristkinjom i glavnom glumicom Shirley (Kuusamo), ona se na to požali svojoj sestri Viimi (Melleri) i kružoku njenih radikalno nastrojenih prijatelja. Osim Viime i Marije (Tiainen) koje su par i sklone su aktivizmu, tu su još i Hannin nekadašnji dečko Lasse (Poser) i još jedan gay par koji sačinjavaju Ara (Wikström) i mladi glumac željan probitka Ekku (Kujala). Lajtmotiv večeri alkohola i kuknjave je taj da je Kristian pozer i lažni feminista koji svoju ženu iskorišćava, a krunski dokaz su njihove slike za Instragram, zbog čega neko u ekipi dolazi na ideju da bi Hanna željna osvete i Ekku, profesionalni glumac, mogli da naprave sve to, samo bolje i, naravno, sasvim lažno, čime bi se u konačnici demaskiralo licemerje i preispitali postulati i predstave o romantičnoj ljubavi.

Rečeno-učinjeno, a već prva fotografija »para« privlači pažnju kod Hanne na poslu i uspeva smekšati čak i njenu hladnu šeficu Kristu (Heinänen), pa ekipa odluči da nastavi kampanju, a Hanna i Ekku ubrzo postaju »power couple« finskog svemrežja, kao i umetničke i »celebrity« scene. Ne treba, međutim, previše vremena da bi se pojavile prve pukotine i izbile varnice, kako na kreativnom, tako i na ličnom nivou. Ara postaje ljubomoran jer ga Ekku, opčinjen karijernim perspektivama, a možda ipak i pomalo zaljubljen u Hannu, zapostavlja. Hanna i Lasse, pak, imaju i svojih neraščišćenih računa iz prošlosti kada su bili par, a Viima i Maria se smatraju izdanima kada »kampanja« koju Hanna i Ekku vode počne dobijati obrise tradicionalnih predstava romantike i kapitalističku notu »product placement« škole marketinga.

Međutim, ispostavlja se da je i sama kampanja deo filma oko kojeg se autorski ponajviše spore Lasse i Hanna kao kreativni partneri, a da je to opet deo filma Hannaleene Hauru koji mi gledamo, što znači da već u startu ima više meta-nivoa i slojeva od onoga na šta smo računali. To, opet, otvara još jedan dodatni nivo za sprdnju koji se tiče finske (i ne samo finske) nezavisne (i ne samo nezavisne) filmske scene. Da li se to možda naša autorica i njen kreativni partner Lasse Poser to sa nama malo zajebavaju? Da li se oni, pak, ponajviše zajebavaju sa samima sobom jer u tkivu filma ima i dosta toga što se može apstrahovati kao neki interni štos koji se »ne prevodi« dobro prema javnosti.

Zapravo, ništa zato jer je Fucking with Nobody svoju misiju već ostvario, uprkos određenim preprekama poput namerno sirove, gerilske estetike sa kamerom iz ruke i poigravanjem s neprofesionalnih formatima poput YouTube videa, amaterskih snimaka iz drona, lažiranih »camcorder« snimaka, fotografija ovakvih i onakvih, i čisto intuitivnim montažnim rezovima u kojima se ne vidi puno promišljanja, te tonom koji često podseća na studentske debatne klubove. Fucking with Nobody je pre svega smešan i zabavan film koji nas pritom tera da preispitamo određene stvove, svoje ili tuđe. A kao višnja na šlagu, čak je i seksi i erotičan, naravno u granicama onoga što smo kodifikovali kao pristojno, odnosno bez trunke vulgarnosti.

Naravno, u nekom pročišćenijem obliku bio bi još bolji. Osnovna prepreka je sama struktura s previše nivoa i slojeva, i započetih, a nezavršenih priča, što je i inače boljka brojnih nezavisnih i festivalskih filmova, a što se u ovom filmu čak i apostrofira. Apostrofira se, negde pri kraju, da nije savršen, i to iz usta Hanne i Lassea koji se bore za kontrolu nad delom, ali i nad svojim životima, što opet zvuči kao mig. Ali i takav je jedan od intrigantnijih festivalskih naslova u poslednje vreme kojeg, opet, ne treba shvatati preozbiljno.

A Film a Week - The Cemil Show / Çemil şov

 previously published on Asian Movie Pulse

Cinephilia, the trope of the hapless protagonist going mad and the clash of the two worlds, one being contemporary, realistic and soul-crushing, and the other being fantastic and even heroic, make up for an incendiary mix in Baris Sarhan’s feature debut “The Cemil Show” that premiered at IFFR’s Big Screen Competition. As a festival, Rotterdam is not often associated with crowd-pleasing movies, but “The Cemil Show” is a bit of a standout in this year’s programme.

The titular protagonist, played by Ozan Celik, is a security guard at a gigantic Istanbul mall. Instead of doing his job to the best of his abilities (let us say that he is not of the most dependable sort of people), he daydreams about fame as an actor. Instead of watching the monitors in the video-room, he is more keen on re-watching the old Yesilcam gangster movies. He gets his shot at fame when he auditions for the role of an iconic badass in a remake of the cult classic from the sixties, titled “The Nightmare”, which was played by his idol Tungay Goral. Needless to say, the stage fright gets the better of him and he botches the audition.

His second “lucky break” is the cognition that his co-worker (maybe even a secret crush) Burcu (Nesrin Cavadzade) is Goral’s own daughter, so he uses the incident involving her and their manager, Mr Zafer (Alican Yucesoy) to blackmail her to introduce him to Tungay. Alas, before she manages to do that, Tungay dies, alone and forgotten by everyone except for the director of both the old and the new “The Nightmare” movies, Ismet Ozemir (Cezmi Baskir) that Cemil fails to impress at the funeral.

That does not persuade him to give up on his acting “career”, which leads to a chain of events in which he messes up something at his job, gets a concussion and decides to dedicate himself imitating Goral’s signature acting moves until he identifies with him and his screen persona completely. And since the trouble rarely comes alone, that kind of behavior leads him to the second blow to his head and the complete disruption of his sense of reality. He becomes Goral and any of his gangster characters from the movies…

Foolish characters harboring big dreams are not exactly a novelty in cinema, not even in Sarhan’s own filmmaking career (“The Cemil Show” is actually an expansion of his eponymous short film with which he shares some of the actors), and, as the writer and the director, he is well aware of it. He flirts with parody regarding his protagonist and his work situation (Zafer and his sidekicks are quite cartoonish bullies, while Burcu is a hysterical damsel in distress), but never crosses the line in that regard. However, the line regarding the exploitation is crossed near the end of the film, but for a well argumented reason.

The sheer amount of cinephilia is actually the trump card in Sarhan’s storytelling and directing style. The situation at the mall is a full-blown melodrama (the second favourite Turkish Yesilcam B-Movie genre, after gangster stories), so the overly expressive acting by the commanding Celik, Cavadzade and Yucesoy does not poke the eye of the viewer. The second group of references are the musical and the editing cues that mimic the old B-Movies style, for which both the composer Taner Yucel and the editor Evren Lus should be commended.

However, the aspect “The Cemil Show” stands out for are the masterfully “faked” gangster movie excerpts with then young Tungay Goral (played by Basar Alemdar) playing an array of cigarette-smoking mustached villains, showcasing an impressive variety within the sub-genre. The camerawork by Soycut Turan is especially playful in those passages, while the granulation of the image is spot on.

Although there is some lagging in the pace, especially in the first half of the film, and the idea is a bit stretched in the storytelling (the feeling is Sarhan could go deeper in a number of aspects regarding Cemil, his work, acting attempts and even film industry), so “The Cemil Show” feels a bit overlong with its 2 hours of runtime, it can still be considered more than a decent film and a sure-handed debut. There is no doubt that it could make a splash on the margins of the festival circuit (genre-specialized festivals or the late night slots at the regular ones) and in the theaters, especially on the home turf.