Movie Reviews
Fallen Leaves review: A compassionate depiction of the proletarian life
Filmmakers being in conversation with each other’s works is natural, desirable and often, a lot of fun to watch. However, like any other literary/artistic device it runs the risk of rampant, commercialized overuse. In today’s franchise-led era it is used more often than not in service of a facile sense of continuity, of a ‘shared universe’ no matter what the artistic costs may be.
Luckily, in skilled hands, filmmakers having a sense of history still pays off handsomely — and no amount of mega-corporation productions can change that about the medium. I was reminded of this powerfully during a beautiful night-at-the-movies sequence in Finnish director Aki Kaurismaki’s latest, Fallen Leaves, now streaming in India on Mubi (and on Mubi’s channel on Amazon Prime Video). A deceptively straightforward romantic comedy involving star-crossed lovers, this is Kaurismaki’s 20th full-length feature, which won the Jury Prize last year at Cannes.
Lives under capitalism as zombie-existence
In the aforementioned movie-going sequence, our two protagonists — an alcoholic, melancholy man named Holappa (Jussi Vatanen) and an overworked, conscientious woman named Ansa (Alma Pöysti) — are at the movies. Until now we have only seen these two people suffering the ravages of contemporary capitalism.
He works a series of punishing, dead-end construction gigs while she works at a corrupt supermarket that routinely sells expired food to its customers. Finally, the two of them are given a moment of peace and levity at the movies — will they hit it off or will their baggage come in the way? (This is pretty much the entire plot of the film; Kaurismaki’s films defy conventional screenwriting expectations).
They watch The Dead Don’t Die, the 2019 absurdist zombie invasion comedy (starring Bill Murray and Adam Driver), directed by Kaurismaki’s old friend and artistic brother-in-arms, Jim Jarmusch. At the end of the film, Ansa says that she hasn’t laughed this much in ages. It’s a typically bittersweet moment from Kaurismaki, whose movies are full of mild-mannered stoics who tend to be better at endurance than they are at embracing hard-fought slivers of happiness.
Ansa’s encounter with vibrant, life-affirming colour comes in the second half, when she is wearing a lively turquoise overcoat while meeting Chaplin, a friendly, yellow-coloured dog she adopts — this is, significantly, one of the first moments we see Ansa smiling and relaxed.
The fact that she found the gory zombie invasion hilarious is part of the point — Kaurismaki and Jarmusch share a certain bleak flair for introducing absurdism into everyday situations. But what’s even more remarkable is the subtext and how well it blends in with the world these two people live in. Ansa and Holappa look at their own lives under modern-day capitalism as a kind of zombie-existence. This is signaled loud and clear throughout the film’s 80-minute runtime in a variety of ways.
Kaurismaki’s minimalist visual vocabulary
In an early scene, we see Holappa reluctantly getting ready for a night out in town — he checks out his own surly face in a shattered mirror, his reflection looking like something out of a Cubist portrait. In a later scene, Holappa is drunk and passed out on a bench at a bus stop, where a group of teenagers is rifling through his pockets, disappointed at the meagre results. Ansa quietly checks Holappa’s pulse, seats him upright on the bench so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit and then quietly leaves on the next bus.
This visual is one of the best and most poignant moments in the film — a barely-lit Ansa unsure whether to leave, looking at Holappa as the bus starts, inevitably, to move away from the scene-of-the-crime. This is the modern-day equivalent of a frequently-seen moment from films set in previous centuries; the farewell scene at the docks when one or more characters set sail for a foreign land.
In this case, of course, Ansa is going back home, which for her is every bit as ‘alien’ and unsettling, not least because she’s unsure of Holappa’s fate or indeed, whether they will meet again (by this point in the film, the two do not know each other’s names and have no way of contacting each other).
Kaurismaki’s visual style is spare and minimalist to the point of occasional stodginess when he’s not on his A-game. No such concerns for Fallen Leaves, however. This is his best film since his mid-career purple patch in the late 80s and early 90s, when he made such idiosyncratic masterpieces like Ariel (1988), Leningrad Cowboys Go America (1989) and La Vie de bohème (1992). A close reading of Fallen Leaves reveals it to be a kind of culmination of several of Kaurismaki’s pet themes from this phase in his career.
The colour of hope
The most prominent among these themes and motifs, of course, is Kaurismaki’s clear-eyed, compassionate depiction of the life of proletarian characters, in films like Shadows in Paradise (1986) and The Match Factory Girl (1990). The latter, in particular, is a kind of spiritual predecessor, almost, to Fallen Leaves. Its protagonist Iris (Kati Outinen, one of the director’s frequent collaborators) is very much in the same mould as Ansa.
Both of them are quiet, unobtrusive young women working punishing jobs in a ‘post-industrial’ landscape. Both of them have rich inner lives that they keep well-hidden from the rest of the world. Besides, Iris and Ansa both share one very important feature that the two films take pains to highlight prominently — their relationship with loud, vibrant colours that stand in sharp contrast to their otherwise drab lives dominated by shades of grey.
Fifteen minutes into The Match Factory Girl, we see Iris wearing a bright pink dress that she clearly likes. Her mother reacts with inordinate anger, telling her that she looks like a prostitute but Iris refuses to listen and goes to a nightclub wearing the dress, a signal that she will live life on her own terms.
In Fallen Leaves, Ansa’s encounter with vibrant, life-affirming colour comes in the second half, when she is wearing a similarly lively turquoise overcoat while meeting Chaplin, a friendly, yellow-coloured dog she adopts — this is, significantly, one of the first moments we see Ansa smiling and relaxed. Colour bestowed upon these grayscale lives is Kaurismaki’s way of giving these characters hope.
For Kaurismaki fans, Fallen Leaves is the logical endpoint of some key storytelling strands from his career. And for newcomers it is the perfect introduction to the pleasures of this unique artist.
Movie Reviews
Barroz Twitter Review: Is Mohanlal’s directorial debut with the fantasy film worth a watch? Check out these 11 tweets to know
Mollywood icon, Mohanlal has now ventured into the director’s chair and his directorial debut film Barroz has made its theatrical release today, December 25, 2024. The Malayalam fantasy movie, within hours of release, has gotten some vivid reviews from fans, who have highlighted their opinions on social media.
Well, it seems that Barroz has received mixed opinions from some fans, who have significantly highlighted how the film has not lived up to the expectations considering it being the senior actor’s directorial debut.
Fans have expressed disappointment at the fact that the film’s storyline is weaker, and it is only the specialised use of VFX that has been pulling it all together.
On the other hand, some other fans have appreciated the impeccable acting chops of Mohanlal himself, with special mention to the excellent 3D presentation appealing to mass audiences for more than one reason.
There have been specific references to a few underwater scenes, which have been touted as an epitome of masterclass cinematic presentation, not to forget how it would not hit as a mass entertainer.
Check out the fans’ reviews about Barroz on Twitter:
Mohanlal has left no stone unturned when it comes to the jam-packed promotional spree for Barroz. The film’s cinematography has been done by the talented Santosh Sivan, while the musical score is handled by Mark Killian.
Coming to the plot of the film, it is said to revolve around the conquest undertaken by Barroz, the guardian of a treasure which has been hidden for over 400 years. This wealth has been trusted to only a true descendant of Da Gama.
It is inspired as an adaptation of Jijo Punnoose’s novel Barroz: Guardian of D’Gama’s Treasure. However, the scenes were rewritten by Mohanlal and Thazhathupurakkal Karunakara Panicker, including characters and locations, leading to the exit of the novelist, forfeiting his credits.
Speaking of the cast of Barroz, besides Mohanlal, it stars Maya Rao West, Cesar Lorente Raton, Kallirroi Tziafeta, Daniel Caltagirone, Aadukalam Naren, Tuhin Menon and others.
ALSO READ: Nayanthara enjoys ‘best holiday’ in Europe with Vignesh Shivan and twins; sunsets, long walks and Eiffel Tower sum up her travel diaries; PICS
Film
The Fire Inside
Director: Rachel Morrison
Michael De Luca Productions, PASTEL
In Theaters: 12.25
I’m not a fan of combat sports in real life, yet I find that movies about them are nearly irresistible. Whether it’s Rocky, The Karate Kid, Warrior or the upcoming wrestling flick Unstoppable, the underdog who comes out swinging and bests their bigger, more experienced opponent always plays. It’s also nearly always the same movie, and that’s what makes The Fire Inside a knockout.
In this fact–based story, Claressa Shields (Ryan Destiny, A Girl Like Grace, Oracle) is a young woman from Flint, Michigan, who has one skill and one passion: boxing. Despite limited support from her family, Claressa is taken under the wing of Jason Crutchfield (Brian Tyree Henry, If Beale Street Could Talk, Godzilla vs. Kong), a coach at a local gym. As Jason becomes as much a surrogate father as a coach, Claressa trains with a ferocious determination and earns a spot on the 2012 Summer Olympic team — Claressa “T-Rex” Shields becomes the first American woman to take home the gold in the sport at age 16. From there, Claressa goes from being a poor inner city kid with nothing to … a poor inner city kid with a gold medal overnight. There are no endorsement deals, no professional career and seemingly no new worlds to conquer. As Claressa fights discouragement, she must find a path to lead her beyond a one time victory into a lasting better life.
Rachel Morrison, the first woman to be nominated for an Academy Award for her work on Black Panther, makes a strong directorial debut, coming out swinging. She’s ably assisted by a terrific script by Barry Jenkins (Moonlight). The Fire Inside transcends the tropes of the genre by reaching the rush of climactic fight and then daring not to end there, instead delving into the reality that in Shields’ life, one triumph in the sports world doesn’t change your circumstances, especially for an uncouth young woman with no interest in playing the public relations game and selling a softer, more traditionally feminine image. We’ve heard the cliche “this isn’t just a movie about sports, it’s about life,” but such a candid look at a life-changing moment that does nothing to change your life, and learning how to face this, was something refreshingly new and honest. The often bleak and at times stunningly beautiful cinematography by Rina Yang, along with the stirring score by Tamar-kali, lift the sensory experience and go a long way to making this one a winner.
Destiny shows potential as a breakout star, commanding the screen as effortlessly as Claressa commands the ring. Henry is the highlight of any film he’s in, and The Fire Inside is no exception, with his grounded performance keeping the film moving along and setting the tone for a story about learning that you can still lean on others while you’re believing in yourself. The sizzling chemistry between these two actors drives a poignant and entertaining story to a satisfying and believable conclusion that’s not the one you’re expecting.
The Fire Inside is a breath of fresh air in a genre that far too often settles for stale and dank. It provides enough inspirational warmth to fulfill its duties as an uplifting sports movie, but its got the stamina and the drive to go a few extra rounds and push its own limits. Unlike most boxing films, this champ doesn’t pull any punches. –Patrick Gibbs
Read more film reviews here:
Film Review: A Complete Unknown
Film Review: Babygirl
Passion projects are often lauded simply for their passion, for the sheer effort that it took to bring a dream to life. Sometimes, that celebration of energy expended can obfuscate the artistic merits of a film, as the blinkered vision of a dedicated auteur can be a film’s saving grace, or its death knell. This is one of the hazards of the passion project, which is satirically explored in the 2000 film “Shadow of the Vampire,” a fictionalized depiction of the making of F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent horror film “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror,” in which John Malkovich plays the filmmaker obsessed with “authentic” horror.
This meta approach is a clever twist on the iconic early horror movie that looms large in our cultural memory. Inspired by Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel “Dracula” (with names and details changed in order to skirt the lack of rights to the book), “Nosferatu” is a landmark example of German Expressionism, and Max Schreck’s performance as the vampire is one of the genre’s unforgettable villains.
“Nosferatu” has inspired many filmmakers over a century — Werner Herzog made his own bleak and lonely version with Klaus Kinski in 1979; Francis Ford Coppola went directly to the source material for his lushly Gothic “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” in 1992. Now, Robert Eggers, who gained auteur status with his colonial horror film “The Witch,” the Edgar Allen Poe-inspired two-hander “The Lighthouse,” and a Viking epic “The Northman,” delivers his ultimate passion project: a direct remake of Murnau’s film.
His first non-original screenplay, Eggers’ version isn’t a “take” on “Nosferatu,” so much as it is an overly faithful retelling, so indebted to its inspiration that it’s utterly hamstrung by its own reverence. If “Shadow of the Vampire” is a playful spin, Eggers’ “Nosferatu” is an utterly straight-faced and interminably dull retread of the 1922 film. It’s the exact same movie, just with more explicit violence and sex. And while Eggers loves to pay tribute to the style and form of cinema history in his work, the sexual politics of his “Nosferatu” feel at least 100 years old.
“Nosferatu” is a story about real estate and sexual obsession. A young newlywed, Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult) is dispatched from his small German city to the Carpathian Mountains in order to execute the paperwork on the purchase of a rundown manor for a mysterious Count Orlok (an unrecognizable Bill Skarsgård), a tall, pale wraith with a rumbling voice that sounds like a beehive.
Thomas has a generally bad time with the terrifying Count Orlok, while his young bride at home, the seemingly clairvoyant Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) is taken with terrifying nightmares and bouts of sleepwalking, consumed by psychic messages from the Count, who has become obsessed with her. He makes his way to his new home in a rat-infested ship, unleashing a plague; Ellen weighs whether she should sacrifice herself to the Count in order to save the town, which consists of essentially three men: her husband, a doctor (Ralph Ineson) and an occultist scientist (Willem Dafoe).
There’s a moment in the first hour of “Nosferatu” where it seems like Eggers’ film is going to be something new, imbued with anthropological folklore, rather than the expressionist interpretation of Murnau. Thomas arrives in a Romanian village, where he encounters a group of jolly gypsies who laugh at him, warn him, and whose blood rituals he encounters in the night. It’s fascinating, fresh, culturally specific, and a new entry point to this familiar tale. Orlok’s mustachioed visage could be seen as a nod to the real Vlad the Impaler, who likely inspired Stoker.
But Eggers abandons this tack and steers back toward leaden homage. The film is a feat of maximalist and moody production design and cinematography, but the tedious and overwrought script renders every character two-dimensional, despite the effortful acting, teary pronunciations and emphatically delivered declarations.
Depp whimpers and writhes with aplomb, but her enthusiastically physical performance never reaches her eyes — unless they’re rolling into the back of her head. Regardless of their energetic ministrations, she and Hoult are unconvincing. Dafoe, as well as Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Emma Corrin, as family friends who take in Ellen, bring a winking campiness, breathing life into the proceedings, while Simon McBurney devilishly goes for broke as the Count’s familiar. However, every actor seems to be in a different movie.
Despite the sex, nudity and declarations of desire, there’s no eroticism or sensuality; despite the blood and guts, there’s nothing scary about it either. This film is a whole lot of style in search of a better story, and without any metaphor or subtext, it’s a bore. Despite his passion for the project, or perhaps because of it, Eggers’ overwrought “Nosferatu” is dead on arrival, drained of all life and choked to death on its own worship.
‘Nosferatu’
GRADE: C
Rated R: for bloody violent content, graphic nudity and some sexual content
Running time: 135 minutes
In theaters Dec. 25
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