Change Your Image
Julian Luna
Reviews
Fucking Åmål (1998)
I HAD to write another review, I feel my first one did not do the movie justice ;)
The most precious moments in the movie are often silent moments. I have this image, in my mind, of Agnes and Elin at the back of the car that they hope will take them to Stockholm, this image where their faces are lighted for a few seconds before the driver closes the door and goes to investigate the engine. Agnes looks so shy, barely dares to look at Elin, and Elin herself has that wonderful look in her eyes, half perplexed, half bashful... That moment, among many others, is one that will forever stay in my heart, and yet I feel that no "spoken" scene could have had the same impact. And I face the same problem when I try to talk about the movie, explain why I have liked, when I try to communicate just how much I was moved by it. The attraction I feel towards Fucking Åmål goes way beyond the movie, it seems that it appeals with some of the deepest chords of my innermost self, come part of me that I may be only barely aware of myself, and where all my emotional "fuel" lies. I feel very frustrated whenever I try to explain my love for the movie, for it looks like no words can ever convey my feelings. Whenever I come back from seeing Fucking Åmål at the cinema, I put some music on (I've been listening to Nick Cave's Where The Wild Roses Grow way over a hundred times, you should all listen to it!), and either stare blankly at the ceiling, or take a pencil and write. I don't know how long this movie will keep its hold on me. Sometimes, I hope it will last forever, but other times I become scared since there is so much beauty in it that almost everything else that I see around me disappoints cruelly, looks coarse and worthless... Anyway, there's no way to thank Rebecca, Alexandra, Lukas and all those who partook in the dream that was Fucking Åmål, for gracing us with such a blissful vision. Thanx all!
Mùa hè chieu thang dung (2000)
Dreams do not only come during sleep...
This movie was one long, slow, blissful dream. I can hardly explain how much I have been moved by this movie. It exists beyond what is projected on screen, appeals to some of one's innermost sensations, feelings almost forgotten, like the simple pleasure of waking up in the morning, opening one's window, and breathing, deeply. Since I live in Paris, I was lucky enough to meet Yen (the interpret of Lien) and Hung (the director) and talk to them personally. And I understood where the movie's deeply heartfelt nature came from : simply, it was the expression of the greatest sincerity and sensitivity of all. Hung and Yen are both just like this movie, just like the Scent of Green Papaya too : fascinated with simplicity, and constantly looking for beauty in its simplest form, in the most obvious gestures of everyday life. Waking up had always been a routine for me. After seeing this movie, it has become a pleasure renewed every morning. Never before had I understood the worth of movements executed slowly, fluently, harmoniously, almost like a ceremony. A la Verticale de l'Eté is not an obvious movie, where everything is suddenly thrown at the spectator who needs do nothing but open his mouth and swallow whatever is shoved down his throat. This demanding film asks a total commitment, asks you to completely forget everything else than the movie. But if you let yourself sink into the movie, if you make that initial effort, this film will reward you with much more than mere images and temporary distraction. I truly believe that this movie will forever stay in the hearts of those who have seen it. I have seen it four times so far, and can't get fed up with it. There is one problem about this movie though : it makes it particularly hard to get back into the "real" world... That is probably why I keep going, again and again, to see this movie. I think I like to believe that life can be a dream sometimes.