|
|
October 3, 2003
A different life after death
Israeli film examines family's struggles after losing father/husband.
BAILA LAZARUS EDITOR
It's an unfortunate testament to Middle East realities that one
expects every film coming out of the region to be about war, politics,
terrorism or religious conflict. So it was a refreshing surprise
to find none of this in Broken Wings, a superbly written
and well-acted drama from Israel, directed by Nir Bergman, showing
at the Vancouver International Film Festival.
In Broken Wings, Dafna (Orly Zilbershatz-Banai) is a 43-year-old
single mother of four who lost her husband suddenly nine months
earlier. (Don't make any assumptions here; you'll find out near
the end of the movie how he died.) After the death, the family starts
to disintegrate. The eldest daughter, 17-year-old Maya (Maya Maron),
has to take care of the house and children and soon rebels, wanting
to be a singer in a band; 16-year-old Yair (Nitai Gvirtz) refuses
to return to high school, preferring to wear a mouse uniform while
handing out promotional leaflets; 11-year-old Ido (Daniel Magon)
develops an abnormal urge to videotape himself jumping off of high
walls; and the youngest daughter, six-year-old Bahr (Eliana Magon),
consistently locks herself in her room, depressed.
The dysfunction and destructive tendencies of her children, along
with harrowing shift work as a midwife and financial struggles,
erode Dafna's strength and she is constantly tired. Just when things
seem at their bleakest, Ido hurts himself seriously and lapses into
a coma. The accident brings Yair closer to the family but serves
to increase the chasm between Maya and her mother.
Anyone who has ever had a falling out with a parent, a child or
a sibling will be able to relate to the dialogue; and anyone who
has had to go through grief or face calamity with their family will
empathize with every one of the characters.
Shot in Haifa and Tel-Aviv, Broken Wings shows life as it
might exist anywhere. Without suicide bombs and existential wars,
there's still daily challenges to deal with; and where there's life,
there's always hope. As the characters repeat over and over again,
"Things could be worse."
Look for Broken Wings to be released in theatres locally.
Bastards too preachy
The moral of Mort Ransen's Bastards should have been "Don't
pick up hitchhikers": They could verbally abuse you, destroy
your property and harass you. However, the moral of the film seems
to be if you pick up pink-haired, nose-ringed, shoeless, cursing,
arrogant and annoying hitchhikers, they will give you a reason to
care again and make you more socially conscious.
Bastards tells the story of Samuel (Ransen), an aging architect
who lives on Saltspring Island and shuns the world. One day, he
picks up Finnie (Liisa Repo-Martell), a young, angry woman with
many causes, all of which can be boiled down to her being anti-globalization
and anti-corporation. Yawn.
Finnie and her boyfriend, Troy (Tygh Runyan), travel around the
world attending various protests, which Troy videotapes in order
to document, basically, the goodness of the protestors and their
motives and the evil of the police who break up these demonstrations,
often using violent means. It is the combination of watching these
videos and his relationship with Finnie that motivates Samuel to
become politically active and, in a sense, to be reborn.
Unfortunately, excessive preaching is not the biggest problem with
Bastards. Neither is the melodramatic acting. The worst part
of Bastards is the filming style. Shot entirely from Samuel's
point of view using a digital camera, the movie has a high school
project feel to it and is dizzying. If you manage to sit through
it, you'll be wanting to call Ransen worse names than the film's
title.
Bastards screens on Friday, Oct. 3, 4 p.m., and Tuesday,
Oct. 7, 7 p.m., at Granville 7.
– Cynthia Ramsay
Kaufman brothers inspire
Those who are familiar with one of the most famous of early Russian
films, The Man With a Movie Camera, or who can appreciate
the cinematography in On the Waterfront and Twelve Angry
Men will find Dziga and his Brothers an absorbing film to watch.
Indeed, anyone with even a passing fancy in the development of film
will not be disappointed in this documentary, which looks at perhaps
the most talented group of brothers in cinematic history –
David Kaufman (later to be known as Dziga Vertov), Mikhail and Boris
Kaufman.
Born at the end of the 19th and early 20th century in Bialystock,
"the most Jewish town in Poland," the Kaufman brothers
would move with their family to Moscow, fleeing pogroms. Each one
of the three would take up film in their own way – Dziga as
a director, with Mikhail as his cinematographer in Russia, and Boris
as a cinematographer in France.
Dziga Vertov's and Mikhail Kaufman's Man With a Movie Camera
(c. 1929) is considered one of the most innovative and influential
movies of the silent era. Vertov was known for his daring, experimental
camera techniques, including rapid editing and playing film footage
backward. And Boris Kaufman's work on On the Waterfront gained
him a tremendous reputation and he is considered to have helped
launch the careers of such stars as Marlon Brando and Sophia Loren.
Dziga and his Brothers uses wonderful archival footage (since
the brothers shot anything and everything from the time they were
young), interspersed with less-inspired interviews with living relatives
and producers. It is as much a record of early cinema as it is of
the brothers' lives.
Dziga and his Brothers plays on Sunday, Oct. 5, 3:20 p.m.,
and Wednesday, Oct. 8, 7:15 p.m., at Granville 7.
– Baila Lazarus
^TOP
|
|
