TRAILER: Cinema Release: Leap Year

Film: Leap Year

REVIEW: DVD Release: The Bothersome Man

Film: The Bothersome Man
Release date: 28th January 2008
Certificate: 15
Running time: 95 mins
Director: Jens Lien
Starring: Trond Fausa Aurvaag, Petronella Barker, Per Schaaning, Birgitte Larsen, Johannes Joner
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy
Studio: Drakes Avenue
Format: DVD
Country: Norway/Iceland

Urban dystopia has been a popular theme for filmmakers over the years. The Bothersome Man takes that tried, tested and clichéd formula and breathes new life into it by combining Orwellian menace with black humour - and more than a touch of Groundhog Day.

Following his apparent suicide, Andreas (Trond Fausa Aurvaag) arrives in a nameless Scandinavian city where he is employed, provided with an apartment and falls effortlessly into a relationship. Unsurprisingly, he soon realises that something is amiss: life is too easy, food is tasteless, and children are conspicuous by their absence. Worse still, booze no longer gets people drunk.

Increasingly anxious, Andreas attempts to inject some excitement into his life by embarking on an affair, before realising that his only option is to escape the homogeneity of the city. Predictably, his efforts are thwarted and hope seems lost – until he befriends Hugo (Per Schaaning). Secreted in Hugo’s cellar is a crack in the wall from which beautiful smells and music are emitted – could this be the escape route Andreas is looking for?


The film opens in a railway station with a scene of the least romantic kissing ever committed to celluloid. It’s distinctly uncomfortable watching a male and female character joylessly chewing each other’s mouths off as the sounds of their lip-smacking are amplified. So uncomfortable, in fact, that Andreas – the tension building on his face – takes the only way out. From the platform, he throws himself under the wheels of an oncoming train. It’s testament to how effective the scene is that his extreme actions seem entirely appropriate.

The film is ambiguous about exactly where Andreas wakes up. Clearly, he ought to be dead. But following a silent bus ride, and a half-hearted welcoming committee, he finds himself in an apartment which apparently belongs to him. Utterly impersonal and decorated in muted colours, it sets the tone for the rest of the unnamed city in which he finds himself. After reporting to an equally nondescript office block, he is given a vague job description, a functional office, and left to get on with it.

So, where has our protagonist found himself? There is a certain Ikea-style blandness and coolness which marks the city out as Scandinavian, but that remains the only certainty. There’s easily enough evidence to suggest that Andreas is in heaven – life is simple, everyone is provided for, and everyone has a purpose. But by the same token, a world where everything is bland and ‘pre-packaged’, detached and emotionless could well be interpreted as hell. Maybe he’s in purgatory? Or perhaps the film is an attack on modern, homogenous living? It’s a strength that events can be interpreted on so many levels so effectively.

It requires an excellent performance from Trond Fausa Aurvag to carry such ambiguity so convincingly - and he really delivers. It’s a role which requires a range of acting talents and Aurvag pulls off slapstick, hangdog, understatement and wild-eyed delight with aplomb. He carries the movie from start to finish: there’s barely a moment without his enigmatic presence.

A number of scenes are key to establishing the other-worldliness of The Bothersome Man, all of which are stylishly underplayed. The first of these occurs as suspicions begin to grow in Andreas’ mind that things are not as they seem. He subsequently severs one of his own fingers in a paper-cutting machine. Spouting blood, his colleagues seem oblivious to the harm he’s done himself – despite the fact that the scarlet blood seeping from his wound is the most colourful thing in their office.

A wonderfully matter-of-fact montage explains the story of how Andreas comes to be in a serious relationship with a woman he barely knows. Over the course of a meal in a restaurant, he flirts clumsily. This leads to a series of short scenes of perfunctory sex and dull interior décor, which perfectly illustrate the alarming ease with which such events occur in the narrative.

Thoroughly disenchanted with his ‘off-the-shelf’ life, Andreas again seeks the answer in suicide. In a revisiting of the opening scene, we again see torturous kissing and a man throwing himself in front of an oncoming train. Only this time it makes more sense – and carries an air of déjà vu. How Andreas survives this attempt is more clear cut – although no more explicable.

Perhaps liberated (or reawakened), Andreas becomes determined to get to the bottom of his predicament. His focus becomes the mysterious Hugo – a man who wears black and white shoes, grumbles vociferously whilst defecating, and lives in a cave-like cellar adorned with a sea of light bulbs. It’s a beautifully understated set, and it becomes key to the denouement of the film, as Andreas and Hugo attempt to unravel the mystery which lurks behind the magical (and peculiarly vaginal looking) crack in the basement. Here, the film seems ever more absurdist (and calls to mind Being John Malkovich) as it speeds towards its inevitable conclusion.


The Bothersome Man is an excellent film. The visuals are stylish, the performances assured and the direction skilful. It draws the viewer into a world which is indefinably strange yet utterly compelling. It adds a new twist to an old and familiar story, weaving elements familiar to the audience with imaginative new ideas to create a film worthy of the many awards it has garnered - and worthy of wider notice than it has received. RW

REVIEW: DVD Release: Leaving

Film: Leaving
Release date: 29th November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 85 mins
Director: Catherine Corsini
Starring: Kristin Scott Thomas, Sergi López, Yvan Attal, Bernard Blancan, Aladin Reibel
Genre: Drama/Romance
Studio: Metrodome
Format: DVD
Country: France

Leaving’s subject matter of an affair between a disaffected, middle aged, middle class housewife and a younger, working class man sounds an over familiar tale, but there is an unexpected sting.

The apparent perfection of Suzanne’s life is superficial. Her elegant appearance, marriage to an affluent doctor and stylish home provide a tastefully minimalist mask for the emotional emptiness of her existence. Like many a fictional heroine before her, her identity is subsumed in her role as housewife and mother.

When workmen are brought in to construct a studio where Suzanne will pursue her new career as a physiotherapist, she grows close to one of the workmen, Ivan, and embarks on an affair with him. So far, so unremarkable, but the film takes a far darker path than the romantic escapism that might be the expected consequence of its premise.

When Suzanne leaves her family for her lover, her husband reacts violently, and uses his contacts and influence to cut off the couple from any means of earning a living. Driven to near starvation, Suzanne grows increasingly desperate, determined to stay with her lover at any cost. Familial relationships disintegrate and the norms of behaviour are disregarded, culminating in a dramatic denouement…


The film’s apparently romantic theme is belied by a pervasive austerity, in its dialogue, cinematography and its clear-eyed, unsentimental characterisation. The dialogue is fairly unremarkable, and there’s a banal ugliness to some of the scenes that seems deliberate – the tinny sound of a van door closing, or the shabby surroundings of Ivan’s flat. When scenes occur within a beautiful setting, these standout all the more, and they are all associated with Suzanne’s feelings for Ivan – contemplating escape together among the thickly wooded, majestic hills of Languedoc-Roussillon, or watching Ivan’s daughter playing in the sea as sunshine bounces off the waves.

The house of Suzanne’s white coat clad husband is bathed in a blue and northern light, which appears uncomfortably wintry and sterile in contrast to the warm sunshine associated with Suzanne’s lover. The initial scenes of the film, setting up the context of Suzanne’s family life, are interspersed with a blank black screen, and these moments seem to last fractionally too long, creating an uncomfortable sense of the silence and emptiness within the family. As Suzanne’s affection for Ivan grows, these blank interludes appear to diminish.

The role of Suzanne was created for Kristin Scott Thomas, and this gives some indication of the intentions of director Catherine Corsini. In the hands of a lesser actress, the film could have descended into the realms of TV drama, but Scott Thomas is one of those actors who can create a performance that is more than the sum of its parts, and Corsini obviously had this in mind when creating the role. Scott Thomas conveys typical French poise at the film’s beginning, so her transformation from chic to shabby is all the more shocking. Her portrayal of Suzanne’s blossoming affection for Ivan is warm and naturalistic, and she convincingly conveys the indignity that sexual obsession can bring about, a desperation and growing irrationalism which provokes our sympathy, as Suzanne’s behaviour plays havoc with the insincere politeness’s of bourgeois family life.

Scott Thomas’ compelling performance means that Corsini doesn’t have to use the sentiment of poetic dialogue or overblown cinematography to give the story its magnetism, with the result that the film’s depiction of the realities of marital infidelity is more realistic and disturbing than you would expect at its outset. Sergi Lopez, as Ivan, and Yvan Attal, as Suzanne’s husband Samuel, both provide excellent supporting performances. We’re denied the satisfaction of making black-and-white judgements on these characters as they are, unsettlingly, too subtly shaded for that. Ivan seems patient and affectionate, but we learn little of his past – Suzanne discovers that he has been in prison, but not why. Samuel’s reaction to Suzanne’s declaration that she is leaving him is frighteningly violent, and his continued persecution of her and her lover displays a vindictiveness that leaves no room for compassion. But this viciousness is tempered by earlier scenes in which Samuel shows a tender concern for Suzanne, and the humiliation of his situation makes his behaviour understandable, if still unpalatable at best.

There’s a pared down fatalism to the film which has echoes of classical tragedy, which looked with a similarly dispassionate eye at the loves and losses of the human soul. But despite – or because of – the film’s austere heart, and despite the fine performances of its cast, there’s something lacking in Leaving. When Suzanne’s actions become so desperate that in them you can see the seed of her self-destruction, it becomes increasingly hard to sympathise with her. Without that strong engagement with her character, and in the absence of any compensatory strength in Ivan or warmth in Samuel, you begin to feel distanced from the film. It ultimately substitutes subtlety for the grander gestures of sacrifice.


Leaving’s unexpectedly nasty edge renders its depiction of sexual obsession, marital infidelity and disintegrating family life compelling and disturbing in equal measure. Scott Thomas’ strong performance lends a truthfulness and warmth to the film, but the violently irrational development of her character fails to convince. A fine film rather than a great one. KR

NEWS: DVD Release: The Silent Army

Life as a restaurant owner in an eastern African country is not easy for the 40-year-old, African born and bred Eduard Zuiderwijk after the sudden death of his wife. He now stands for the task of raising his 9-year-old son Thomas all by himself.

The young Thomas seeks and gains support from his friend Abu, son of Mafillu, one of the female black staff members in the restaurant.

One day Abu disappears suddenly together with at least ten other children, after a nightly and violent raid of his village by the rebel army.

Young Thomas cannot be consoled. He wants Abu back, and Eduard, who feels he is failing as a father, decides to try to find Abu.

While Eduard proceeds to an IDP camp in the middle of the conflict-infested area to gather information about the possible whereabouts of Abu and the other abducted children, Abu himself is undergoing harsh child soldier training in the rebel army of Michel Obeke, formerly Minister of Defence.

Eduard persists in his plight towards finding and saving his son’s friend, and after a dangerous search through the jungle, he manages to reach Michel Obeke’s camp.

Film: The Silent Army
Release date: 6th December 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 93 mins
Director: Jean Van de Velde
Starring: Marco Borsato, Abby Mukiibi Nkaaga, Andrew Kintu, Thekla Reuten, Jacqueline Blom
Genre: Action/Drama
Studio: High Fliers
Format: DVD
Country: Netherlands

NEWS: DVD Release: Leaving

Kristin Scott Thomas brings another extraordinary performance to the screen, with a role that has already earned her a nomination for France’s highest accolade for an actress – Best Actress at the Cesar Awards 2010. This is Kristin’s first French-speaking lead role since I Loved You So Long, which garnered high critical praise and earned over one million pounds at the UK box office.

Suzanne (Scott Thomas) is married to Samuel (Yvan Attal) with two children. When she decides to go back to work as a physiotherapist, it brings her into contact with a builder called Ivan (Sergi Lopez), an odd job man who has been to prison. The mutual attraction is sudden and violent. As Suzanne spirals out of control, she must decide between her family or living this all-engulfing passion to the full.

A stunning portrait of the destructive consequences that love can have, at the centre of which is a scintillating performance from Kristin Scott Thomas..

Film: Leaving
Release date: 29th November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 85 mins
Director: Catherine Corsini
Starring: Kristin Scott Thomas, Sergi López, Yvan Attal, Bernard Blancan, Aladin Reibel
Genre: Drama/Romance
Studio: Metrodome
Format: DVD
Country: France

DVD Special Features:
• Exclusive Cinemoi interviews with the cast and crew
• UK Theatrical trailer

SPECIAL FEATURE: Cinema Release: Slackistan

This is an English-language release.

Islamabad, Pakistan. A year has passed since democracy returned to the country and Hasan and his friends graduated from college. For both the civilian rule and this group of friends, things haven’t quite turned out as everybody had hoped.

Hasan has always dreamt of becoming a filmmaker and has recently bought a video camera. However, unable to find a pirated copy of Mean Streets, and deprived of even a single cinema in his town, he lets the camera sit in its box and roams around with his two best friends.

Everyday, the cocky but charming Sherry pulls up in his dad’s large Mercedes, with the ever perky Saad in the backseat, picking up Hasan and going through their routine of shisha cafes, house parties, high school stake-outs and lots of driving around town. Sherry is secretly borrowing cash from local rich loser Mani, who is trying to buy his way into Sherry’s social circle and contacts.

Hasan harbours feelings for his neighbour Aisha, a beautiful, sensitive girl who has been a long-time ally of Hasan’s, believing in his ability to make films. She has her own secret: she plans to leave the country and move to Boston to follow an American-Pakistani guy she has been involved with long distance. Hasan does not know this.

Zara, meanwhile, completes this group of friends, as the girl who constantly tries to fit in with the ‘Isloo’ crowd. Always lipsticked, made-up and desperately trying to please the spoilt and superficial Zeeshan, she doesn’t understand why her little brother won’t speak to her anymore.

When Aisha tells Hasan about her plans to leave the country for a career-driven guy, he is privately devastated, but supportive of his friend. She leaves him and his world in a state of aimless failure. Hasan needs to do something with his life. He needs to take his camera out of its box and point it at the people outside of his little world.

However, with Mani and his boys chasing down Sherry’s cash debt, Hasan might find moving on and getting out of ‘Slackistan’ harder than he imagined.

Film: Slackistan
Release date: 26th November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 115 mins
Director: Hammad Khan
Starring: Shahbaz Shigri, Aisha Linnea Akhtar, Rafey Alam, Osman Khalid Butt, Uzair Jaswal
Genre: Drama
Studio: Big Upstairs
Format: Cinema
Country: Packistan

SPECIAL FEATURE: Cinema Review: Broken Sun

Film: Broken Sun
Release date: 19th November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 92 mins
Director: Brad Haynes
Starring: Shingo Usami, Sam O'Dell, Kentaro Hara, Kuni Hashimoto, Mark Redpath
Genre: Drama/War
Studio: Metrodome
Format: Cinema
Country: Australia

This is an English-language release.

Centring on parallel stories of two survivors of war from opposing sides of the conflict, the chance encounter at the heart of Broken Sun forces its protagonists to acknowledge the profound connection they share as a result of their experiences of war.

Broken Sun’s multiple narrative shifts between its present day setting of New South Wales, Australia, in 1944, and the recollections of war which haunt its two main characters.

Jack is an Australian veteran of the Great War, living in isolation on his farm and plagued by guilt and regret. In a nearby prison camp, Japanese prisoners of war plot their escape. Their leader, Amamoto Shingo, declares death to be more honourable for a Japanese soldier than existence in captivity. Those who doubt the wisdom of his actions are too fearful to stand against him. Amongst them is Tanaka Masaru, a young soldier whose war injuries make him vulnerable.

Following escape from the camp, Masaru’s path crosses that of Jack, and both men come to realise that their experience of war forms a more profound understanding between them than any connection they might have with their own countrymen…


The film constantly switches between the narratives of past and present. Jack has nightmarish recollections of the trenches of the Somme, scenes characterised by a cold blue light and mist drifting across the desolation of no man’s land. His recurring visions of a bloodied soldier berating Jack for his past crimes suggest a dark and guilty secret, which is eventually revealed. By contrast, Masaru remembers sun soaked battles in the jungles of the Pacific, where he endured an inner conflict between his instincts of self-preservation and compassion, and the suicidal code of honour imposed on him by his commanding officer. The way the film jumps between these different narrative threads is potentially distracting, and, in fact, the lack of any revelation resulting from Masaru’s story makes the film’s structure somewhat unsatisfactory, although it does flesh out his character and the contrasting values held by the belligerent Amamoto Shingo.

The film has an oddly pared down quality, which is partly the result of its noticeably low budget and partly down to the spare nature of the script. The escape of the Japanese POWs forming the central action of the film was a historical event, in which some 330 soldiers fought their way out of a prison camp in New South Wales, the majority then taking their own lives rather than submitting to the shame of recapture. The film’s WWI scenes are set at Pozières, the site of the bloodiest battle fought by the Anzacs on the western front. Despite these references to factual events, there is a curious lack of historical detail. The setting of Masaru’s war is merely described as the South West Pacific, so this becomes more representative of a moral and ethical battle, rather than a physical one.

The paucity of detail seems to be a deliberate feature to minimise distraction from the film’s theme of the nature of war and its consequences upon the individual. The intense scenario of the two ex-soldiers confronting each other feels closer to a situation artificially engineered in a play than to the more naturalistic tendencies of film. The trenches scenes were clearly shot on a purpose built set, reinforcing this sense of a wider world condensed to the impressionistic intensity of a stage. This isn’t necessarily a criticism, although Broken Sun swims against the tide of fashion in taking this approach. It feels closer in tone to a literary morality tale such as Of Mice And Men than to the Hollywood sized pyrotechnics of Saving Private Ryan.

Shingo Usami gives a touching performance as Masaru, his limping shuffle conveying childlike vulnerability, and his open mouthed horror at death and destruction reflecting the truth and freshness of a child’s reactions to the horrors of the world. Jai Koutrae is convincingly embittered and tortured as Jack, although he is too young to be believable as a war veteran of thirty years’ standing, raising the question why this character was written as a veteran of the First rather than the Second World War.

The answer seems to be that the filmmakers wanted to show the relentless suffering, year upon year, which this character endures as a consequence of his experiences. He says that “this war keeps me burning, makes me angry. It’s the only thing I have to keep me alive.” His internalised suffering reflects the experiences of thousands of veterans who could not speak of the horrors that they had witnessed to an uncomprehending civilian populace. The unremitting mental torture which Jack undergoes seems to him a just price for the actions which he took during the war, actions which were the inescapable consequence of the inhumane choices he faced. The character of Masaru is, by contrast, a figure of hope, someone who values compassion and humanity, and who would rather choose survival than self-destruction - even at the cost of seeming ignoble.

The film’s Australian setting is a fitting location for the bleakness of its theme, with a harsh sun beating down upon a bone bare, yellow and brown bleached landscape. The best shots are quietly contemplative, as when Masaru, still a prisoner, gazes out of the window at abstract cloud formations, his face lit up by the sun while the rest of him remains huddled in darkness. The still nature of the film and its sparse dialogue create a meditative feel, giving the viewer time and space to reflect on its subject matter. In this, the film’s intentions seem to fall closer to The Thin Red Line than to the war films of Spielberg or Oliver Stone, but the feeling that Broken Sun lacks real substance means that it comes nowhere near matching the success of The Thin Red Line in creating an immersive and claustrophobic impression of the reality of war. Though well intentioned, there is not enough depth to the characterisation to give a convincing sense of understanding the experiences of Jack and Masaru, and how they have been affected by those experiences.


Finely acted, with a standout performance from Shingo Usami, Broken Sun is thoughtfully executed with some memorably touching shots, but it fails to reach deep enough into the hearts of its characters to achieve a satisfactorily powerful meditation on the nature of war and those who endure it. KR

NEWS: Cinema Release: Leap Year

Official Selection at the 2010 London Film Festival and Winner of the prestigious Camera D’Or prize for Best First Feature at the 2010 Cannes International Film Festival, Leap Year is the shocking debut feature film of Australian director Michael Rowe, a character study on loneliness, featuring an extraordinary leading performance by Monica Del Carmen (Babel), supported by Gustavo Sánchez Parra (Man On Fire).

This highly charged sexual thriller, set within the small confines of a Mexican apartment, follows 29 days in the dispirited life of freelance Journalist Laura Lopez, as she moves from one anonymous sexual encounter to another.

Soon, Laura meets a man by the name of Arturo, and it is not long before she is submitting to demeaning sexual acts as part of their relationship - a tragic psychological reaction to a secret trauma from her past, which occurred on the previous leap year. When Laura marks a red square around an upcoming date on her calendar wall, the wheels are set in motion for what will turn out to be a startling conclusion.

Film: Leap Year
Release date: 26th November 2010
Certificate: TBC
Running time: 92 mins
Director: Michael Rowe
Starring: Monica del Carmen, Gustavo Sánchez Parra, Armando Hernández, Diego Chas, Marco Zapata
Genre: Drama
Studio: Axiom
Format: Cinema
Country: Mexico

NEWS: Cinema Release: An Ordinary Execution

Based on his own hugely successful novel of the same name, Marc Dugain’s debut feature, An Ordinary Execution, is an encounter between the aging Joseph Stalin (Andre Dussolier) and a young doctor, Anna.

Anna (Marina Hands), who has extraordinary healing powers, is brought in to treat the escalating physical woes of the dictator’s old age, after his own doctor has been “purged.” Seen entirely through Anna’s eyes, he lays bare his philosophy of terror - rambling, plotting, and intimidating.

Ingeniously shot to reflect the grimness of oppression, and filled with tension and mystery,
An Ordinary Execution is a compelling examination of the police state, and a piercing insight into the mind of the last days of a dictator.

Film: An Ordinary Execution
Release date: 26th November 2010
Certificate: 12A
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Marc Dugain
Starring: André Dussollier, Marina Hands, Edouard Baer, Denis Podalydès, Tom Novembre
Genre: Drama
Studio: Arrow
Format: Cinema
Country: France

TRAILER: Cinema Release: Adrift

Film: Adrift

REVIEW: DVD Release: Blame It On Fidel

Film: Blame It On Fidel
Release date: 26th May 2008
Certificate: 12
Running time: 99 mins
Director: Julie Gavras
Starring: Nina Kervel-Bey, Julie Depardieu, Stefano Accorsi, Benjamin Feuillet, Martine Chevallier
Genre: Drama/History
Studio: ICA
Format: DVD
Country: Italy/France

Adapted from the novel by Domitilla Calamai, and directed by Julie Gavras, Blame It On Fidel is a coming of age story with a difference. Taking the lead from her father, internationally acclaimed filmmaker Costa Gavras, the director has created a political drama set in 1970s France, filmed from the point if view of its 9-year-old protagonist.

Anna is a child of the French bourgeoisie - and proud of it. She lives in a big house in Paris with a garden, and all her and her brother François’s needs are taken care of by their Cuban born Nanny, Philomena. Her father, Fernando, is a successful lawyer, and her mother, Marie, is a journalist for Marie Claire; life is pretty swell. Unfortunately, the arrival of her Spanish activist aunt soon puts an end to all of this, much to Anna’s consternation.

At the start of the film Fernando attempts to explain to Anna that his sister and niece had to be smuggled out of Spain, after his brother-in-law was killed for his political beliefs, and cannot go home. Anna immediately senses the threat to their way of life, and rightly so. Fernando’s guilt at not helping his sister earlier, and the unexpected support of his wife, leads him to quit his job and go to Chile to support the socialist Allende’s campaign for power.

Anna is left increasingly concerned by her parents changed behaviour – they move to a small apartment, have an array of migrant nannies, invite a load of Communists around for dinner, and her mother takes up feminism and compiles a book on women’s experiences of abortion – it is a lot for a 9-year-old to take on board.

Anna retaliates in a series of amusing ways, including turning the lights and heating off to save money and eventually stealing from her class mates, convinced that if they only had more cash they could move back to the big house and life would get back to normal. But, eventually, through her conversations with the adults who surround her, and despite of her parents inconsistencies, Anna starts to adapt to, and even enjoy, her new life…


Blame It On Fidel deals with the complexities of a young girl trying to get to grips with the world. In Anna’s case, this involves forming complex political and religious beliefs. The film is shot from the child’s point of view, and the viewer is as limited in their understanding of events as Anna is herself. She learns about what is going on around her by overhearing conversations, but also through listening to stories that people tell her. At the start of the film, Anna tells her mother that her favourite story is that of Genesis, and her understanding of religion is limited to the narrow view of Catholicism, but by the end she has learnt tales from Greek mythology and Vietnamese folklore, not to mention the ideals of Communist atheism. As a director, Gavras draws the viewers’ attention to the power of stories in forming the beliefs of a society.

When it becomes apparent that Anna’s parents have become Communists, Philomena is outraged and tells Anna that Communists forced her from her home and made her flee to France for safety. She describes them as bearded and red, which turns out to be amusingly close to the truth. Her grandmother is also judgemental of their politics, and believes that communists want to take away her money and house. Anna confronts her parent’s friends with these stereotypes but they laugh it off and try to explain their point of view, utilising an orange as the world cut into segments to be shared. At the beginning of the film, we also see Anna cutting fruit; she lauds it over the other children at the wedding and considers them below her when they do not cut their fruit as neatly. Through these linked scenes, and the symbolism in each of them, the viewer can see that Anna has grown.

There is often humour in this film, which could so easily have been a dry political commentary on post ‘68 France. This is best captured when Anna tries to play shop with the revolutionaries sharing her home, and adds a massive mark-up to the price of the plastic plates on her stall utilising free market economics, while the men try and explain the concept of the redistribution of wealth.

Kervel plays the part of Anna brilliantly throughout, and was picked by the director out of 400 other girls because she so closely resembled the character. This is not to take away from her acting ability, which shines through every pouting mouth and tantrum, ensuring that the viewer cannot help but be on her side through it all as it becomes apparent how fallible and inexplicable adults can be.


Blame It On Fidel is a beautifully shot, well-rounded drama that remains true to its main character and the mood of 1970s France. It can be both confusing and frustrating as the viewer to be forced into the position of a child, but the humour of the film, made possible by this disparity, more than makes up for it. EM

REVIEW: DVD Release: The Class

Film: The Class
Release date: 15th June 2009
Certificate: 15
Running time: 128 mins
Director: Laurent Cantet
Starring: François Bégaudeau, Angélica Sancio, Arthur Fogel, Boubacar Toure, Carl Nanor
Genre: Drama
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: France

Entre le Murs (Between The Walls) stood out as a leading piece of French contemporary literature with its publication in 2006 - Francois Begaudeau’s semi autobiographical novel offers something quite unique. Adapted to the screen in 2008, it brought about similar intrigue and consideration with the celebrated Palme d’Or. Time Out director Francois Begaudeau’s portrayal of school life looks a little deeper than its Dangerous Minds-esque predecessors.

Middle aged teacher Mr. Marin begins work at a high school in inner-city Paris. He is put in charge of a class teaching French language and literature to a racially mixed group of underprivileged children in their mid-teens.

Starting in the autumn term, and spanning the entire school year, we follow Marin’s attempts to connect with and teach his class of unwilling students. He introduces the children to the values of language, the significance of history and the power of literature, provoking only limited interest.

As Marin balances ethnic tensions, rebellious students and potentials unrealised, it is the lives of the students that become the major topic of the classroom...


The premise of the film has been very present in cinema dating back to Sidney Poitier’s To Sir With Love. The synopsis itself brings about a number of conventional devices associated with the sub-genre of hard-hitting classroom drama: the open-minded young teacher, the budding student stifled by their background, and the life changing lessons they learn from each other. The Class does possess a similar arc, but to hold it in the same regards as such sentimental movies does not do it justice.

The film is shot with a minuscule budget, and Cantet’s shoot is based in the classroom, the halls, the staffroom, and a school yard that resembles the concrete confines of a prison. All we learn about the pupils and the staff, we learn from inside the school, as the camera never strays outside its walls. Reportedly shot on three digital cameras, Canet’s no-thrills direction deliberately resembles a documentary, and this allows for the action of the film to unfold with the upmost realism. The drib-drab entrapment of the classroom is really felt, and although this can grate with such an extensive running time, the tone of the film is essential for the messages it carries.

The original novel’s author, Francois Begaudeau, debuts onscreen as a dramatised version of himself - he wrote the book about his own experiences, and the ex-teacher brings this to the screen. The children are by no means experienced actors either, and are assembled from a selection of real-life pupils - many of the classroom debates that figure so memorably are ad-libbed and shot as genuine discussions. We are given riveting insight into the mindset of Parisian youth as they argue and debate, with Marin urging them all the way - this approach creates an on screen simulation of reality that would be hard to imitate.

There is a lot to learn here but there are no epiphanies as you may expect. The vulnerability of the children is mirrored in the teacher, as he too feels the strain of a weary education system. We see his misjudgement in his altercation with Souleymayne, a student who he previously had been making headway with. Marin’s classroom manner is tested as his penchant to allow children to express themselves leads to them taking advantage, and we see his frustration as his methods are responded to and rejected in equal measure. The action of this film puts educational ideals in question.

Cantet’s film comments heavily on an outdated school system that is more concerned with processing children than helping them to grow. We see unappealing curriculums, unenthusiastic educators and an emphasis on children’s behaviour - not their learning. Canet’s documentary style succeeds in appealing to our emotional involvement with the children, and portraying the hopelessness of their situation.


With fantastic performances from an unexpected cast, this is a very honest and well realised look into French youth and the system that raises them. A low-key production and modest stature do not stop this film carrying huge significance, and giving penetrating attention to a much overlooked cause. The action is slow but The Class definitely packs a punch. LW

REVIEW: DVD Release: I Served The King Of England

Film: I Served The King Of England
Release date: 26th May 2008
Certificate: 15
Running time: 114 mins
Director: Jiri Menzel
Starring: Ivan Barnev, Oldrich Kaiser, Julia Jentsch, Marián Labuda, Milan Lasica
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Romance/War
Studio: Arrow
Format: DVD
Country: Czech Republic/Slovakia

Waltzing with gaiety through dark times, the novel of the same name by renowned Czech author Bohumil Hrabal is brought to life by director Jiri Menzel in what is the duo’s sixth collaboration together. I Served The King Of England is two tales of one man, Jan Dite, set initially around the German invasion and the Second World War, and latterly his older self dealing with the fallout of the lengthy communist upheaval, that took place a handful of years after that war’s conclusion.

Beginning with the emergence of a world wearied Jan, after what appears to have been a lengthy tenure in prison; he departs the Czech capital and settles down in a deserted house, in a wooded glade, somewhere near the German border. He fills his days with the renovation of a derelict house, and befriends a couple of passersby who also have moved to the region to escape the communist agenda. While rebuilding and spending time with his only two sources of companionship, Jan recalls and looks back on his life with a warm fondness.

His younger self was in complete contrast to the individual he is now. He is an enthusiastic, yet small (which is referenced frequently) individual who, through studying the actions of those passing through his village’s train station, has learnt the influence and sway money holds over people. Swindling businessmen out of their hard-earned money as a hotdog vendor, Jan is spared by a savvy trader who instead of handing him over to the police encourages him to pursue his own entrepreneurial tendencies. So, Jan’s journey begins, as he moves slowly up the ranks of the service industry, from his lowly position as a waiter in the local restaurant to the gloriously prestigious setting of the Hotel Paříž in the capital city of Prague.

I Served The King Of England continues to veer back and forth between the two existences, marking the contrast between the person he is and the person he once was, as, while he manages to chance his way into some fortunate circumstances, he begins to learn that the wealth he yearns after comes at a price…


As is not often the case with novel to film adaptations, Obsluhoval jsem Anglického Krále (as it is in its native tongue) doesn’t suffer in the loss of any content from its original source. Not only is the novel itself not especially lengthy, thus allowing the key events to be transferred into motion picture, but given this is the sixth collaboration between the author and director, there is a great harmony in the translation. Hrabal points out that which is needed to make the story as true to its origins as possible, while Menzel captures and encourages the warmth out of his actors to make Jan Dite as believable a character as possible.

I Served The King Of England finds itself in a position of being very difficult to categorise. It is at heart a drama about one man’s life, yet it throws in so many different emotions, allowing itself to be immensely humorous one moment to poignantly serious the next. It addresses issues on the desires for financial gain, and at what human cost the complete determination to achieve this goal comes at, while playfully looking at the disadvantages and advantages of being short in stature - an equally diminutive Ethiopian Emperor awards Jan a medal because he cannot reach the neck height of the Hotel Paříž’s Maitre d’.

This cinematic multiplicity also happens to be the template for the protagonist himself, which makes his transformation into the straightforward, rurally inclined older Jan to be much more compelling. As young Jan begins his entrepreneurial journey, there is a great self-centeredness to his actions. While he moves around with baby-faced charms and natural gaiety, endearing himself to the viewer, his actions are always done to further his own gains, to achieve his ultimate goal of becoming a millionaire. It isn’t until the film’s second half, when it turns slightly darker, that we begin to see his trueself emerge. In one particular sequence of events, Jan rescues a blonde woman from being attacked by men on the street of Prague. After having developed a relationship with her, he takes her for lunch to the Hotel Paříž where she is refused service - as it transpires, she is a German Nazi. Jan’s relationship with her proves to be the film’s emotional crux, for where many would see a complete disregard for the political situations of the times, an ignorance and stupidity, the director and actor manage to maintain the protagonist’s charm and present a blissful naiveté, with unwavering loyalty and love in the face of public disdain.

I Served The King Of England is a very personal and bittersweet work for both the writer and director, as they visit dark and unsettling times in their nation’s history, while keeping the positives about what it is to be Czech - the optimism, the enthusiasm - and highlighting all that is beautiful about both the capital city and the surrounding countryside.


No puns about Czechs, cheques or checks, this is cinema at its most bare; a journey of human emotion and discovery that leaves you a better person for the experience. BL

REVIEW: DVD Release: The Maid

Film: The Maid
Release date: 8th November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 94 mins
Director: Sebastián Silva
Starring: Catalina Saavedra, Claudia Celedón, Mariana Loyola, Alejandro Goic, Anita Reeves
Genre: Comedy/Drama
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Chile/Mexico

A winner at Sundance, and a Golden Globe nominee for Best Foreign Language Film, The Maid is Sebastian Silva’s second feature, following on from the highly acclaimed La Vida Me Mata (Life Kills Me). Reuniting some of the cast, including a starring role for Catalina Saavedra, it took many critics by surprise.

Raquel (Catalina Saavedra) has spent twenty-three years working as housemaid in an upper class Santiago household; as much a part of the Valdez family as those she lives with and looks after.

Plagued by migraines and dizziness, Raquel begins to question her role in the house, but, more importantly, she questions her life - not helped by her struggling relationship with the family’s vibrant daughter Camila.

To improve Raquel’s increasingly poor health, and ease her workload, the family hires a second maid – a young and pretty Peruvian called Mercedes. Although a hit with the family, Mercedes is tormented by a threatened Raquel, with a campaign of psychological abuse and pettiness that eventually drives the young girl away.

Undeterred, the family hire a more experienced housemaid called Sonia – the two old hands eventually coming to blows after yet more misery served up by Raquel, who is growing increasingly desperate to retain her spurious status.

Her victory is brief. After collapsing, she begrudgingly accepts a period of bed rest, soon to discover that Lucy, a cheerful and stubborn new maid, has effectively taken her place. Will her terror tactics work again, or will Lucy be able to finally show Raquel how to appreciate life beyond the household…


Director Sebastian Silva utilises intentionally gritty and harsh hand-held trickery, often lingering on angles and close-ups to emphasise the painful, all-too-real aspects of The Maid’s emotional character study. By ditching the soundtrack altogether, the viewer is hypnotised by these naturalistic techniques, and becomes almost part of the family in a way Raquel can only dream of.

Most impressively, Silva manages to etch an almost romantic friendship between Raquel and Lucy, which forms the backbone of a film that could otherwise stumble into all too obvious slasher territory or, worse still, complete nothingness. It takes such a relationship to remind Raquel that in truth she is merely an employee, and, in that sense, expendable. Yet, the family shares no understanding of her deep attachment to them, or how important she actually is. Highlighted brilliantly when Raquel spills the beans on the eldest son’s bedtime habits, the simple truth is that she knows each family member better than anyone, including their deepest and darkest secrets.

With slow and deliberate pacing, the film only struggles momentarily when the third maid is introduced. It’s a case of ‘here we go again’, until Silva changes direction and finally lets the audience witness a side to Raquel that never seemed possible. Catalina Saavedra’s performance is truly astonishing, and deserves all the plaudits – with a creepy, miserable demeanour that borders on psychotic, it’s hard to fathom how she manages to create so much empathy. And yet she does, because whenever a rare smile crawls across her face, it’s difficult not to smile along with her, pleased she’s finally found some form of happiness, no matter how fleeting.

Saavedra is supported by an outstanding cast; the most enjoyable performance coming from Anita Reeves, playing the stubborn battleaxe Sonia who refuses to get too close with any of her employers, and is bewildered by Raquel’s insistence that she is part of the family. There’s even a tense, if slightly unconvincing moment, when Sonia must scale the roof of the house after Raquel has locked her out. The resulting catfight is another cracking moment.

Superior casting aside, the viewer is also rewarded with some well-placed humour and neat chills: the eldest son betrayed by a woman he trusted and loved more than anyone when she tells his mother how frustrated she is with having to wash his pyjamas and bed sheets everyday is cringe worthy yet funny, as is Lucy’s topless sunbathing to evoke a smile or two from her misunderstood nemesis. Meanwhile, a scene that reveals Raquel’s darker side when Pilar Valdez, the mother, discovers a photograph album in her room, with her daughter’s image continually scratched out, sends a shiver down the spine, as we’re left to wonder quite which direction the film is heading.

Of course, there are a few gripes as well: Raquel and daughter Camila’s relationship is never fully explored to understand its complexities. Instead, you can only assume that Camila’s pretty, full-of-life personality seriously troubles Raquel, whose life is predictable, dull and getting shorter by the second. At times, the film is just too claustrophobic, a relief when the drama is finally taken outside, the shower scenes and brief nudity aren’t necessary, and the amusing moments when Raquel locks each maid out of the house become slightly tiresome, questioning why they don’t just ask for a key each to combat the inane madness.


Reshaped superbly at the halfway point into a beautiful tale of friendship, The Maid is a gripping character study, with a masterful performance from Catalina Saavedra that just simply demands your attention. DW

REVIEW: DVD Release: Cosmonaut

Film: Cosmonaut
Release date: 8th November 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 85 mins
Director: Susanna Nicchiarelli
Starring: Claudia Pandolfi, Sergio Rubini, Angelo Orlando, Susanna Nicchiarelli, Miriana Raschillà
Genre: Comedy/Drama
Studio: VITA
Format: DVD
Country: Italy

Susanna Nichiarelli accentuates her growing reputation for eye-opening direction as she delves into the communist-dominated world of the ‘50s and ‘60s, through the coming of age story of central character Luciana, played by Marianna Raschillà, who delivers a suitably hormonal performance, fuelled by her larger-than-life experiences as a teenager.

Having lost her father long before she developed any awareness of the world around her, much of Luciana’s ideology has been shaped by her older brother, Arturo, whose mind has been partially distorted by the drugs he takes to control his epilepsy. Arturo’s universe revolves around the Soviet Union’s exploration of space, and this universe becomes Luciana’s over the course of her childhood.

As her hormones begin to take their hold, Luciana takes a fancy to Vittorio, the leader of the Italian Federation of Young Communists (FIGC), and the dreams she has shared with her brother fully become her own. She endeavours to impress Vittorio by displaying her ambitions of becoming the first woman into space, although whether or not these ambitions are merely a means of impressing a boy is not initially clear.

With her father’s legacy a prominent feature throughout, she struggles for someone to turn to in her times of need, and in her father’s absence, Luciana’s personal life begins to unravel…


The ideals of communism are what unite the film’s central characters, and footage of early Soviet missions help set the scene throughout Cosmonaut. Early on, we witness a number of FIGC meetings, which assist in demonstrating the importance of the communist values not just to Arturo, but also to Vittorio and many of the other members, as they strain to be heard over one another. What is rarely apparent, particularly in the opening stages, is how invested Luciana is. With one lustful look after another at Vittorio, we see little evidence of anything other than the seeds of first love, along with some thinly veiled attempts at displaying this love.

One area in which Nichiarelli excels is in developing empathy with her protagonist. As it is relatively difficult to develop understanding in the outdated values of communism, instead she concentrates much of her attention on Luciana’s woes as a teenager. In giving the audience scenarios they can identify with; fighting over a boy, pining for someone, and watching that person fall into the arms of someone else, Nichiarelli subtly introduces emotional crutches throughout.

It must also be said that the cast does imperious justice to the story. Marianna Raschillà does the simple things well, and contrasts fleeting moments of happiness with Vittorio and her, at times, tempestuous home life to such degree that the characters surrounding her cannot help but follow suit. Never is this more compelling than in the scenes with Sergio Rubini, who portrays the wealthy stepfather to perfection, constantly striving to accomplish the semblance of familial aura that Luciana never quite allows him to.

Despite a slightly short running time, Cosmonaut endeavours to resolve every strand of narrative, and achieves this successfully, drifting away from its communist overtures just in time to conclude the fate of each character. The audience comes away sensing that not only Luciana, but also her friends and family, have come through a personal test in one form or another. These character arcs are ultimately the fulcrum of Nichiarelli’s story.

Another aspect Nichiarelli deserves credit for is developing the mise-en-scène without becoming overbearing. By electing to simply scatter footage of various space missions throughout, Nichiarelli does not see the need to take this any further; we just know the film is set in ‘50s and 1960s Rome. This allows the characters to stay at the focal point of the film, where they can make the utmost impact. Even the soundtrack is moving but never distracting, as Nichiarelli utilises the crisp sound of revamped songs from the era, the emotive twangs of which sit in the background and subtly accentuate the events of the film.


With the help of a tremendous cast, Susanna Nichiarelli conjures a simplistic yet intriguing story which documents teenage melodrama on the subtle background of the Soviet technological advances of the period. By peeling away any potential complications, Nichiarelli allows the audience to concentrate its attention on the complex human emotions portrayed throughout. MC