I do not believe in the laudatory, post-event press releases, nor in the articles with warm hands, the love of "friendship" or completeness, without any real basis. But after the last week, when I saw one movie per night thanks to the European Film Festival, I felt the need to remark and point this event.
So if the movies below awaken your curiosity, it will be my tribute to the European Film Festival, in the light of the joy I received.
History's Future, The Netherlands / Ireland / Germany, 2016 - directed by Fiona Tan
What happens when the memory of the past and, with it, your own identity are canceled? You do not know who you are, but is it more important who you were, or who can you become? When the limits are only their own (psychological), the future includes (almost) infinite options. No one can find this a priori answer, or by paraphrasing the main character: "I do not remember tomorrow."
The film is the debut feature film of Fiona Tan, a visual artist who takes over (and adapts) to this new medium of expression, both his original style of treatment and his favorite themes: memory, identity, history.
Já, Olga Hepnarová / I, Olga Hepnarová, Czech Republic / Poland / Slovakia / France, 2016 - directed by Petr Kazda and Tomáš Weinreb -
A main insane character, played by the young Polish actress Michalina Olszańska, a black and white pictorial film with a long list of active festivals.
A tough and sad story about violence that gives birth to violence - bigger or smaller, or just like the victim's, but always violence; A history of the circumstances that can lead there, another way of dealing with "terrorist" acts, without any religious connotation.
It is the story of the victim who uses generic violence without a specific recipient - as a lesson and the only weapon against a society that discriminates or just turns its eyes from those in distress.
Safari, Austria, 2016, directed by: Ulrich Seidl
- A documentary about hunting tourism in Africa, practiced by many Europeans. Most likely away from "top of mind" topics for many of us (including me). Nothing special, apparently. But the hardness and naturalness that Ulrich Seidl treats the hunt, the stage with the stage are puzzling.
The team that fights and shoots remotely, safely, gorgeous animals which have no chance of escape from the start. The way the animals, which have not cooled well, are artistically arranged "in the picture", along with the proud and fearless hunter - a "trophy" much coveted for the increased attractiveness of Facebook profile, most likely. Their irremediable transformation into simple pieces of meat (without life) and the miserable (living) conditions of locals employed as aids in this great rush to the "glory" of the white man, to whom everything is allowed, as long as he pays accordingly.
The speeches of the interviewed, the nonsense, the cynicism and / or their exuberant exaltation in front of the idea of killing from pure pleasure, left me speechless. I can not imagine how they were convinced to speak so freely, but it does not even matter.
Camera Obscura, Romania, 2016, directed by Gheorghe Preda
A caledoiscop of stories of the members of the cyber clubs of the communist regime and of the films (made by them), brought together and matched together in a unique narrative speech, well-concluded.
I appreciated the fact that both the sensational trap, in favor of authenticity, was avoided - the documentary could be turned relatively easily into a tribute to the subversive film - and (with only one exception to me) the rhythm drops, resulting precisely from an equidistant treatment And realistic of the subject.
It results, on a human level, in a true social radiography of the communist period, seen through the eyes of those who have found in the film and in cinema clubs an escape from everyday realities, a way of alternative expression, a form of freedom.
"We knew how to make a beautiful life," says one interviewee, but the joy, pride and nostalgia of those moments as emotionally detached from the immediate reality are visible to each of them. A documentary as a life story, with "happy and sad moments", with the passion for film as a mobile and catalyst.
And returning to the main character, the movie, I felt absolutely amazing the achievements of these amateur actors. What solid cinematic culture they had, despite political impediments that consistently restricted access to any potentially destabilizing production; How the passion turns into ingenious solutions through which the limitations imposed by the resources and the precarious level of the technique were exceeded; What stylistic and expressivity issues they were putting, and what experiments they had, starting from them.
Lucifer, Belgium / Mexico, 2014, directed by Gust Van den Berghe
Lucifer will remain for me a visually spectacular reference film, using a new and unexpected stylistic convention, but to which you admire uncontaminated and total.
It is filmed on a round, and the frames are perfectly composite, so when it comes back to the classic 16: 9, the shock is incredible, as if you've seen only such films all the time, not the other way round.
The story of an angel's fall, inspired by a Dutch theater play, is shuffled in Mexico (the traditional village and landscapes are at the limit of reality and fantasy) and filmed with unprofessional actors (except for the main character) who manage to turn into highly picturesque.
An unlikely but extremely successful experiment, the unconventional high-tech.
L'Accabadora, Italia, 2015, directed by Enrico Pau
A pictorial, atmospheric film shot in superb locations, an excellent promo for Sardinia's beauty, traditions and cultural heritage.
A fascinating legend that I'm curious to explore further (and for which it is most likely followed by a dedicated article), hence my great regret about this film, along with the rhythm that was not enough for me : The subject would have deserved to be dealt with more thoroughly, with all the ritual and associated social connotations.
The term L'Accabadora designates women to relieve the suffering of agony patients. This form of euthanasia is supposed to have been practiced in Sardinia until the 1950s, but of course not officially recognized or addressed.
Starting from this local myth, Enrico Pau builds a story about life, death and love, about duty versus personal freedom, all along the backdrop of the Second World War, during the bombing of Cagliari.
