Actor Gérard Depardieu is being considered for a Russian fantasy feature.
Actor Gérard Depardieu has come into the sights of Russian producer Yuri Kuznetsov-Taizhnov of Pervaya Kinostudia (First Film Studio) for children’s fantasy film Games Of Time. Exile by the newcomer Alexandr Olkov.
The project, which is budgeted at $2.6m (RUB90m) and reportedly has $1.5m (RUB50m) already in place, was presented by Kuznetsov-Taizhnov as one of 15 features looking for production support from the Ministry of Culture at its public pitching for children’s feature films.
The producer explained in the pitch that the film about a little girl from another world arriving unexpectedly in our reality is intended to be shot in IMAX 3D, although he reportedly admitted that the film’s budget could mean the makers would have to choose between either Depardieu or the big-screen format.
Games Of Time. Exile was one of five projects recommended by the Ministry’s expert committee...
Actor Gérard Depardieu has come into the sights of Russian producer Yuri Kuznetsov-Taizhnov of Pervaya Kinostudia (First Film Studio) for children’s fantasy film Games Of Time. Exile by the newcomer Alexandr Olkov.
The project, which is budgeted at $2.6m (RUB90m) and reportedly has $1.5m (RUB50m) already in place, was presented by Kuznetsov-Taizhnov as one of 15 features looking for production support from the Ministry of Culture at its public pitching for children’s feature films.
The producer explained in the pitch that the film about a little girl from another world arriving unexpectedly in our reality is intended to be shot in IMAX 3D, although he reportedly admitted that the film’s budget could mean the makers would have to choose between either Depardieu or the big-screen format.
Games Of Time. Exile was one of five projects recommended by the Ministry’s expert committee...
- 7/3/2014
- by screen.berlin@googlemail.com (Martin Blaney)
- ScreenDaily
Opens
Nov. 7
A famously melancholy song, a touch of "Jules and Jim" and the heavy hand of Nazi oppression give the bittersweet "Gloomy Sunday" a haunted feeling. The streets of old Budapest grow uncomfortably quiet and barren as the years go by. The lively cafe at the heart of the story feels like an oasis from the world's troubles, like a much-deglamorized Rick's Cafe from "Casablanca". People eye one another and fall in love as if fully aware of the impending doom.
Long on atmosphere and Old World charm, "Gloomy", directed by co-writer Rolf Schubel, has circulated in various markets since it was completed in 1999. Distributed by Menemsha Films in the United States, "Gloomy" should attract appreciative adult audiences in specialty venues. The film expands nationally next week.
A song known as "Gloomy Sunday" was written in 1935 by two Hungarians. While it became a hit, the tune achieved notoriety when a number of people committed suicide while listening to its melody. Here, in this fictional story, those deaths are seen as a metaphor for the anguish and anxiety caused by a coming war.
The story begins in the present as a wealthy German industrialist arrives at the favorite restaurant of his youth, the Szabo cafe in Budapest, to celebrate his 80th birthday with his wife and friends. As he digs into his favorite dish, he asks the musicians to "play the song -- you know, the famous one." Then as his eyes fall on a black-and-white photo of a strikingly beautiful woman, he suffers a seizure and dies.
Almost immediately, the movie sweeps us into the 1930s. The beauty in the photo is the cafe's manager, Ilona (Erika Marozsan), hired by doting restaurateur Laszlo (Joachim Krol), who has been her lover for several years. Then Andras (Italy's Stefano Dionisi) enters the scene as the cafe's piano player, and he too falls for the dark-haired enchantress. For that matter, most men fall under her spell, including a blond and awkward German salesman named Hans (Ben Becker), who dines there often.
One fateful night, Andras plays a composition he has written for Ilona. It inspires Hans, due to return to Germany the next day, to propose to her. When she gently turns him down, Hans plunges into the Danube, but Laszlo rescues him. It turns out that Laszlo could use the distraction, for the song also inspired Ilona to go home with Andras.
Hans departs, and the remaining three agree to a menage a trois since none wants to lose the love and friendship of the other two. Soon enough, Andras' song gets recorded, and the suicides begin. Clearly, the tune is background music to the impending Holocaust. When the Nazis take over Hungary, Hans, now a colonel, sets up shop, cutting deals with Jewish manufacturers to take over their businesses and later saving Jews from the camps for steep fees.
Marozsan, dazzling enough to make Ilona's spell over men believable, plays her as a woman determined to live life by her own morality as the old culture is rapidly dying around her. Krol's Laszlo, a nonpracticing Jew who now needs Hans' protection, represents that Old World in a sense, yet as a Jew he too is an outsider. Dionisi (who is dubbed into German) makes Andras into tousle-haired, mercurial youth, essentially a weak man in many ways and a hopeless romantic.
The low-key lighting, graceful cinematography and accurate production design help bring the period to life, though a paucity of sets and locations caused by a limited budget do not allow the production crew to do justice to the rich world of old Budapest. A smooth score by Detlef Friedrich Petersen and Rezso Seress beautifully incorporates the title song into the dramatic structure, making it a true "song of love and death," as the film's German title, "Ein Lied von Liebe und Tod", would have it.
GLOOMY SUNDAY
Menemsha Films
A Studio Hamburg Produktion fur Film & Fernsehen, Dom Film, PolyGram Filmproduktion (Germany)/Focus Film (Hungary) production
Credits:
Director: Rolf Schubel
Screenwriter: Ruth Toma, Rolf Schubel
Based on the novel by: Nick Barkow
Producer: Richard Schops
Executive producers: Martin Rohrbeck, Aron Sipos
Director of photography: Edward Klosinski
Production designers: Csaba Stork, Volker Schaefer
Music: Detlef Friedrich Petersen, Rezso Seress
Costume designer: Andrea Flesch
Editor: Ursula Hof
Cast:
Ilona Varnai: Erika Marozsan
Laszlo Szabo: Joachim Krol
Andras Aradi: Stefano Dionisi
Hans Wieck: Ben Becker
Eichbaum: Sebastian Koch
No MPAA rating Running time -- 114 minutes...
Nov. 7
A famously melancholy song, a touch of "Jules and Jim" and the heavy hand of Nazi oppression give the bittersweet "Gloomy Sunday" a haunted feeling. The streets of old Budapest grow uncomfortably quiet and barren as the years go by. The lively cafe at the heart of the story feels like an oasis from the world's troubles, like a much-deglamorized Rick's Cafe from "Casablanca". People eye one another and fall in love as if fully aware of the impending doom.
Long on atmosphere and Old World charm, "Gloomy", directed by co-writer Rolf Schubel, has circulated in various markets since it was completed in 1999. Distributed by Menemsha Films in the United States, "Gloomy" should attract appreciative adult audiences in specialty venues. The film expands nationally next week.
A song known as "Gloomy Sunday" was written in 1935 by two Hungarians. While it became a hit, the tune achieved notoriety when a number of people committed suicide while listening to its melody. Here, in this fictional story, those deaths are seen as a metaphor for the anguish and anxiety caused by a coming war.
The story begins in the present as a wealthy German industrialist arrives at the favorite restaurant of his youth, the Szabo cafe in Budapest, to celebrate his 80th birthday with his wife and friends. As he digs into his favorite dish, he asks the musicians to "play the song -- you know, the famous one." Then as his eyes fall on a black-and-white photo of a strikingly beautiful woman, he suffers a seizure and dies.
Almost immediately, the movie sweeps us into the 1930s. The beauty in the photo is the cafe's manager, Ilona (Erika Marozsan), hired by doting restaurateur Laszlo (Joachim Krol), who has been her lover for several years. Then Andras (Italy's Stefano Dionisi) enters the scene as the cafe's piano player, and he too falls for the dark-haired enchantress. For that matter, most men fall under her spell, including a blond and awkward German salesman named Hans (Ben Becker), who dines there often.
One fateful night, Andras plays a composition he has written for Ilona. It inspires Hans, due to return to Germany the next day, to propose to her. When she gently turns him down, Hans plunges into the Danube, but Laszlo rescues him. It turns out that Laszlo could use the distraction, for the song also inspired Ilona to go home with Andras.
Hans departs, and the remaining three agree to a menage a trois since none wants to lose the love and friendship of the other two. Soon enough, Andras' song gets recorded, and the suicides begin. Clearly, the tune is background music to the impending Holocaust. When the Nazis take over Hungary, Hans, now a colonel, sets up shop, cutting deals with Jewish manufacturers to take over their businesses and later saving Jews from the camps for steep fees.
Marozsan, dazzling enough to make Ilona's spell over men believable, plays her as a woman determined to live life by her own morality as the old culture is rapidly dying around her. Krol's Laszlo, a nonpracticing Jew who now needs Hans' protection, represents that Old World in a sense, yet as a Jew he too is an outsider. Dionisi (who is dubbed into German) makes Andras into tousle-haired, mercurial youth, essentially a weak man in many ways and a hopeless romantic.
The low-key lighting, graceful cinematography and accurate production design help bring the period to life, though a paucity of sets and locations caused by a limited budget do not allow the production crew to do justice to the rich world of old Budapest. A smooth score by Detlef Friedrich Petersen and Rezso Seress beautifully incorporates the title song into the dramatic structure, making it a true "song of love and death," as the film's German title, "Ein Lied von Liebe und Tod", would have it.
GLOOMY SUNDAY
Menemsha Films
A Studio Hamburg Produktion fur Film & Fernsehen, Dom Film, PolyGram Filmproduktion (Germany)/Focus Film (Hungary) production
Credits:
Director: Rolf Schubel
Screenwriter: Ruth Toma, Rolf Schubel
Based on the novel by: Nick Barkow
Producer: Richard Schops
Executive producers: Martin Rohrbeck, Aron Sipos
Director of photography: Edward Klosinski
Production designers: Csaba Stork, Volker Schaefer
Music: Detlef Friedrich Petersen, Rezso Seress
Costume designer: Andrea Flesch
Editor: Ursula Hof
Cast:
Ilona Varnai: Erika Marozsan
Laszlo Szabo: Joachim Krol
Andras Aradi: Stefano Dionisi
Hans Wieck: Ben Becker
Eichbaum: Sebastian Koch
No MPAA rating Running time -- 114 minutes...
Opens
Nov. 7
A famously melancholy song, a touch of "Jules and Jim" and the heavy hand of Nazi oppression give the bittersweet "Gloomy Sunday" a haunted feeling. The streets of old Budapest grow uncomfortably quiet and barren as the years go by. The lively cafe at the heart of the story feels like an oasis from the world's troubles, like a much-deglamorized Rick's Cafe from "Casablanca". People eye one another and fall in love as if fully aware of the impending doom.
Long on atmosphere and Old World charm, "Gloomy", directed by co-writer Rolf Schubel, has circulated in various markets since it was completed in 1999. Distributed by Menemsha Films in the United States, "Gloomy" should attract appreciative adult audiences in specialty venues. The film expands nationally next week.
A song known as "Gloomy Sunday" was written in 1935 by two Hungarians. While it became a hit, the tune achieved notoriety when a number of people committed suicide while listening to its melody. Here, in this fictional story, those deaths are seen as a metaphor for the anguish and anxiety caused by a coming war.
The story begins in the present as a wealthy German industrialist arrives at the favorite restaurant of his youth, the Szabo cafe in Budapest, to celebrate his 80th birthday with his wife and friends. As he digs into his favorite dish, he asks the musicians to "play the song -- you know, the famous one." Then as his eyes fall on a black-and-white photo of a strikingly beautiful woman, he suffers a seizure and dies.
Almost immediately, the movie sweeps us into the 1930s. The beauty in the photo is the cafe's manager, Ilona (Erika Marozsan), hired by doting restaurateur Laszlo (Joachim Krol), who has been her lover for several years. Then Andras (Italy's Stefano Dionisi) enters the scene as the cafe's piano player, and he too falls for the dark-haired enchantress. For that matter, most men fall under her spell, including a blond and awkward German salesman named Hans (Ben Becker), who dines there often.
One fateful night, Andras plays a composition he has written for Ilona. It inspires Hans, due to return to Germany the next day, to propose to her. When she gently turns him down, Hans plunges into the Danube, but Laszlo rescues him. It turns out that Laszlo could use the distraction, for the song also inspired Ilona to go home with Andras.
Hans departs, and the remaining three agree to a menage a trois since none wants to lose the love and friendship of the other two. Soon enough, Andras' song gets recorded, and the suicides begin. Clearly, the tune is background music to the impending Holocaust. When the Nazis take over Hungary, Hans, now a colonel, sets up shop, cutting deals with Jewish manufacturers to take over their businesses and later saving Jews from the camps for steep fees.
Marozsan, dazzling enough to make Ilona's spell over men believable, plays her as a woman determined to live life by her own morality as the old culture is rapidly dying around her. Krol's Laszlo, a nonpracticing Jew who now needs Hans' protection, represents that Old World in a sense, yet as a Jew he too is an outsider. Dionisi (who is dubbed into German) makes Andras into tousle-haired, mercurial youth, essentially a weak man in many ways and a hopeless romantic.
The low-key lighting, graceful cinematography and accurate production design help bring the period to life, though a paucity of sets and locations caused by a limited budget do not allow the production crew to do justice to the rich world of old Budapest. A smooth score by Detlef Friedrich Petersen and Rezso Seress beautifully incorporates the title song into the dramatic structure, making it a true "song of love and death," as the film's German title, "Ein Lied von Liebe und Tod", would have it.
GLOOMY SUNDAY
Menemsha Films
A Studio Hamburg Produktion fur Film & Fernsehen, Dom Film, PolyGram Filmproduktion (Germany)/Focus Film (Hungary) production
Credits:
Director: Rolf Schubel
Screenwriter: Ruth Toma, Rolf Schubel
Based on the novel by: Nick Barkow
Producer: Richard Schops
Executive producers: Martin Rohrbeck, Aron Sipos
Director of photography: Edward Klosinski
Production designers: Csaba Stork, Volker Schaefer
Music: Detlef Friedrich Petersen, Rezso Seress
Costume designer: Andrea Flesch
Editor: Ursula Hof
Cast:
Ilona Varnai: Erika Marozsan
Laszlo Szabo: Joachim Krol
Andras Aradi: Stefano Dionisi
Hans Wieck: Ben Becker
Eichbaum: Sebastian Koch
No MPAA rating Running time -- 114 minutes...
Nov. 7
A famously melancholy song, a touch of "Jules and Jim" and the heavy hand of Nazi oppression give the bittersweet "Gloomy Sunday" a haunted feeling. The streets of old Budapest grow uncomfortably quiet and barren as the years go by. The lively cafe at the heart of the story feels like an oasis from the world's troubles, like a much-deglamorized Rick's Cafe from "Casablanca". People eye one another and fall in love as if fully aware of the impending doom.
Long on atmosphere and Old World charm, "Gloomy", directed by co-writer Rolf Schubel, has circulated in various markets since it was completed in 1999. Distributed by Menemsha Films in the United States, "Gloomy" should attract appreciative adult audiences in specialty venues. The film expands nationally next week.
A song known as "Gloomy Sunday" was written in 1935 by two Hungarians. While it became a hit, the tune achieved notoriety when a number of people committed suicide while listening to its melody. Here, in this fictional story, those deaths are seen as a metaphor for the anguish and anxiety caused by a coming war.
The story begins in the present as a wealthy German industrialist arrives at the favorite restaurant of his youth, the Szabo cafe in Budapest, to celebrate his 80th birthday with his wife and friends. As he digs into his favorite dish, he asks the musicians to "play the song -- you know, the famous one." Then as his eyes fall on a black-and-white photo of a strikingly beautiful woman, he suffers a seizure and dies.
Almost immediately, the movie sweeps us into the 1930s. The beauty in the photo is the cafe's manager, Ilona (Erika Marozsan), hired by doting restaurateur Laszlo (Joachim Krol), who has been her lover for several years. Then Andras (Italy's Stefano Dionisi) enters the scene as the cafe's piano player, and he too falls for the dark-haired enchantress. For that matter, most men fall under her spell, including a blond and awkward German salesman named Hans (Ben Becker), who dines there often.
One fateful night, Andras plays a composition he has written for Ilona. It inspires Hans, due to return to Germany the next day, to propose to her. When she gently turns him down, Hans plunges into the Danube, but Laszlo rescues him. It turns out that Laszlo could use the distraction, for the song also inspired Ilona to go home with Andras.
Hans departs, and the remaining three agree to a menage a trois since none wants to lose the love and friendship of the other two. Soon enough, Andras' song gets recorded, and the suicides begin. Clearly, the tune is background music to the impending Holocaust. When the Nazis take over Hungary, Hans, now a colonel, sets up shop, cutting deals with Jewish manufacturers to take over their businesses and later saving Jews from the camps for steep fees.
Marozsan, dazzling enough to make Ilona's spell over men believable, plays her as a woman determined to live life by her own morality as the old culture is rapidly dying around her. Krol's Laszlo, a nonpracticing Jew who now needs Hans' protection, represents that Old World in a sense, yet as a Jew he too is an outsider. Dionisi (who is dubbed into German) makes Andras into tousle-haired, mercurial youth, essentially a weak man in many ways and a hopeless romantic.
The low-key lighting, graceful cinematography and accurate production design help bring the period to life, though a paucity of sets and locations caused by a limited budget do not allow the production crew to do justice to the rich world of old Budapest. A smooth score by Detlef Friedrich Petersen and Rezso Seress beautifully incorporates the title song into the dramatic structure, making it a true "song of love and death," as the film's German title, "Ein Lied von Liebe und Tod", would have it.
GLOOMY SUNDAY
Menemsha Films
A Studio Hamburg Produktion fur Film & Fernsehen, Dom Film, PolyGram Filmproduktion (Germany)/Focus Film (Hungary) production
Credits:
Director: Rolf Schubel
Screenwriter: Ruth Toma, Rolf Schubel
Based on the novel by: Nick Barkow
Producer: Richard Schops
Executive producers: Martin Rohrbeck, Aron Sipos
Director of photography: Edward Klosinski
Production designers: Csaba Stork, Volker Schaefer
Music: Detlef Friedrich Petersen, Rezso Seress
Costume designer: Andrea Flesch
Editor: Ursula Hof
Cast:
Ilona Varnai: Erika Marozsan
Laszlo Szabo: Joachim Krol
Andras Aradi: Stefano Dionisi
Hans Wieck: Ben Becker
Eichbaum: Sebastian Koch
No MPAA rating Running time -- 114 minutes...
- 11/6/2003
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
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