Dr_Nightfly Reviews

Non pensarci (2007)

A big breath of fresh air

[10/10 · 16 September 2007]

I previewed this funny, ironic, human, moving movie at the Venice Film Festival 10 days ago.

I would have never even approached the theatre because, up until then, I had a personal loathing of Valerio Mastandrea, the actor in the protagonist's role. How wrong I was! Mastandrea delivers one of the most refreshing performances I have witnessed in a long time. The whole movie is interpreted by extremely credible actors. The result is impressive.

What pushed me to go and see it were the news in one of the Festival's dailies that, during a previous screening, it had received 23 applauses "open scene", during the projection - a very rare feat. I did not count the bursts of clapping from the audience during my screening, but the impression was that the number 23 was short of the quantity of exceptionally well crafted hilarious, comic, or ironic moments. Many more moments were worth a thought and special recognition to the scenario, directing and acting in the movie.

I simply could not believe that an Italian movie was so well accepted, and, notwithstanding my personal prejudice towards the main character's potential, I went with my partner - whose knowledge of the Italian language definitely undermined the chances for her to enjoy the film's jokes fully - and I saw her laugh just as many times as I did. This movie's antics obviously transcend the "lost in translation" syndrome.

I was so pleased that it was an Italian movie. Especially in comparison with the otherwise poor to appalling showing of other Italian productions.

To me, this is a very probable candidate for a Hollywood remake. Unfortunately, I feel it will not be until then that Italians go see and finally enjoy this story. I really do not know why the team who produced it did not enter it into the competition. I definitely think the jury would have regarded it as worth a mention.

Regarding Mastandrea, I feel I must apologize for my trouncing prejudices. His performance is reminiscent of the best moments of a master actor whose art we prematurely lost - Massimo Troisi - but without the Neapolitan connotation which possibly made his genius less understood in the northern part of Italy, or abroad. He moved me and the audience. He made us all laugh with a gesture, a glance, a detail. A laughter never directed at him or the other characters, but with him at the things and situations that anyone would feel they can share - or indeed do share in our not-so-extraordinary lives. He delivered the most credible "prodigal son" figure I have seen on screen, and did it all with a flair and irony which is unfortunately lost in most of the current production - whether Italian or international.

I loved all the bittersweet touches in the movie, from the speed bumps in front of his house, the speed radar in front of the ice cream parlour and its phenomenal use in the movie, up to the suspended ending which leaves every spectator with a free choice in themselves about how this story should end.

Maybe it is too early to call this "genius", but its simplicity and the directness with which this movie speaks to us is definitely very close to it. I hope that the "serious" critics do not oppose and that this movie can represent a bit of my country, a bit of the life of a "regular guy's life" of the 21st century in that strange "boot" of a nation, to other Film Festivals, including Academy Awards.

Go see this movie. It is good for your heart. It is good for your outlook on life. Just one day after seeing it, someone stole my PC. Of course I was not pleased, but "Non pensarci" ("Do not think about it") even provided me with a bit of solace which I sorely needed. Thank you.

PS - A disclaimer: I do not work for the producers, nor have any financial interest in the success of this movie. I just liked it intensely and immensely.

Nessuna qualità agli eroi (2007)

Franchi tries too hard, and does not make it

[1/10 · 1 September 2007]

It is no surprise that even the official presentation copy from the 64th Venice Film Festival had little hope for this movie to win any prize, though it was enthusiastically entered in the fray. It is the third worst movie I have ever seen in my life. I let you imagine which the other two are.

Franchi was quoted by the media saying something to the tune "we wanted to show thin line between consciousness and unconscious". I am afraid he made such a mess of it that the line was completely blurred.

Of course Italian media will not be so drastic about it. This movie is the first one I remarked as being produced by both RAI and RTI, the arch-rivals on the TV market, who, between the two of them, control 90% of the advertising media market. I have not yet read commentaries from the papers, but I am almost certain they will contain an avalanche of sustaining and reinforcing platitudes meant to salvage the production from the fiasco they deserve. It will be the same kind of idiocies that Nanni Moretti ironically made one of the characters in "Caro Diario" - a critic who had incensed the gory 'Harry' - apologize for in one of the most successful revenges of good vs. bad art I have ever witnessed.

This is bad art. It is not even art. It is pornography. I can specify why. A leading critic, a Mr. Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times, once clarified a method to sieve porn out of other more acceptable art forms: "If the characters spend too much time coming in and out of doors, then it is porn".

Franchi not only has provided us with an enormous load of coming in and out of doors, but has provided us with the most explicit sex scenes after M.me Breillat opened the flood. With a difference: in her movies, those made sense. In this, they do not. The fact that she was in the jury did not help the movie win anything. I am glad about that.

Production has been approximative. Even with the sustain of RTSI, a Swiss National TV channel, which explains why the characters have to be idiotically speaking French and Italian, and live in a suspended state between Turin and Geneva, the story and the filming make senseless fumbles of logic and of basic "homework".

Two examples. Who would be the idiot to take a train from Turin to Geneva (a trip between 7 and 11 hours as per the online schedules) when a car ride would be only 2? How would the protagonist be delivered to his parents' villa (somewhere outside Geneva) by a taxi of the Canton Vaud, which he should have allegedly boarded in Geneva town? Anyone who spent more than 1 hour in Switzerland would know that is impossible. So should have known the people from the Swiss production, who, evidently, let this project progress in a very un-Swiss mess. Alas, if these were the only shortcomings of the movie...

I had a series of unintended (by the director) laughter episodes throughout the movie. The biggest one was during the "infamous" masturbation scene, when the two actors are asked to laugh through the evidently cut-to-fit scene. The problem is that in this movie there was nothing to laugh about. A total misery.

I have not seen Mr. Franchi's earlier work, but I do hope it was of a completely different caliber from this disaster.

My sadness was compounded by seeing a Maria De Medeiros cast in it. Possibly the only actor who had a part with some sensible lines, and possibly the only actor to act. They probably convinced her into joining with a different script.

A last comment needs to be dedicated to the deafening soundtrack. I am sure Franchi meant it to underline the crescendos of tension and the inner altered states that the poor actors were not able to deliver on screen with their talent alone. The deafening noises were met by an equally deafening utter silence from the audience as the movie ended. Probably I was not the only one in disbelief.

Redacted (2007)

Probably a masterpiece, but I was too disturbed to notice

[1/10 · 1 September 2007]

I had the fortune to be among the people who have previewed this movie at the Venice Film Festival, yesterday. I am very mixed about this film. I am not questioning the "message" or the reasoning expressed by the director or by the choir of critics who are chanting hosannas to the piece. It was about time for movies critical of the Iraqi war.

My objections are based on technical considerations and on what I am afraid its contents will trigger as a reaction in people who either can't, do not want to understand, or may push an agenda that would gladly cite fragments of this movie out of their context and use them to incite even more hate and mayhem. Unfortunately, this movie is a trove for such potentially inflammatory twisted communications, which I am almost certain will start circulating on networks with exactly the opposite intentions as the ones expressed by Mr. De Palma.

My immediate reaction is one of disgust and of disappointment. I would have expected a much more surgical treatment of the issue of what is erased from our videos - redacted, that is. Instead, I was confronted with materials that, in the age of internet, I could have looked for, like the footage of a beheading, but I chose not to.

I am one of the people who believes s/he does not have to witness a rape live to understand its tragedy. Or the explosion of a hand-made land mine. Or any other gory nefarious act that human minds can conceive or enact. On the contrary, I am one of those people who regret being exposed to such violence without prior explicit consent. I felt brought down to the level of the mad dogs squad of killer rapists. And that is not what I had expected to face in a festival whose official title is about cinematographic Art.

I felt like a voyeur. I deeply resented it. Especially because one of the messages in the movie is that whoever watched became an accomplice.

I felt that certain depictions were clearly stereotyped. It was all too clear who the two main culprits were going to be. It was all too clear that the private who was filming the horrors of war was not up to the dream he was pursuing: entering film school. The production tried hard to instill a sense of amateurishness in the images allegedly coming from his HD camera, but they went too far in making his footage be of dismal directorial quality, while keeping it in the cinema-quality level of the cameras that actually did the job.

I felt I had to be put in front of a polished, pumped up, spectacularized, hollywoodian re-enactment of violence I have chosen not to watch in the first place. The feeling that a HD beheading was acceptable to watch on a 50 ft screen, while I carefully avoided it for the rest of my life, troubled me more than the fair share of emotional involvement I am ready to have in front of the silver screen. And it felt like a very bad deal.

It all went -in my humble opinion - to the detriment of the story, undermining the standpoint of the filmmaker. Some critics in Italy hailed to this as an outstanding achievement. I felt like the only - involuntary - outstanding achievement of the movie is that it tore down the invisible barriers between cinema, video and the net. Now the thin line has been blurred, and, from a technical point of view, that can only be regarded as a major step forward. It is a pity that it came from a movie that provides for no solace, no higher hope, no sense of justice. How will anyone in the world who considers him or herself a victim of the current state of the world look at a very culpable accomplice to rape and murder to return to his loving wife and friends - without punishment? I bet it will not be the same kind of thought that most of the viewers in Venice probably shared.

Last, but not least, I resented the choice - otherwise praised by Italian critics - of the music on the final stills of real effects of violence on Iraqi people. The aria "e lucevan le stelle" is one of hope, of redemption in front of imminent death, of a love that can transcend even death's despair. Probably something that Mr. De Palma lost in translation.

La pasión turca (1994)

Pretty dreadful

[2/10 · 5 June 2006]

There is some merit in setting up a troubled character, whose drab life and misfortunate marriage are made self evident to her when she meets the closest thing to a stereotypical stallion on a trip to Istanbul, but, apart from rare and not too well used embryonic ideas, this movie fails to deliver in a most disappointing way.

It could have been a lot better, had the dialogues been made more credible, had the protagonist's "madness" been depicted with more undertones and a lot more finesse. I am sorry I spent a good part of an evening on it. Characters do not go any further than superficial and - I am afraid - stereotypical. Situations always seem a little bit beyond my willingness to suspend my disbelief, turning this movie into what I consider a serious flop.

Hope others saw more in it than I did, because I really saw very little merit in the efforts profused to make a potentially interesting Spanish/Turkish romance into film.

Viva Zapatero! (2005)

Pity it is condemned not to be seen by most, not in theaters nor later...

[9/10 · 6 October 2005]

I was brought to see this movie by a friend, not knowing of the extraordinary feedback it got from audience and most critics at Venice.

What a pleasant surprise! For someone who refers to herself as "just a jester" as Ms. Guzzanti does, in a bout of understatement, she does pull together a serious and impartial picture of the dismal state of freedom of speech in Italy, how downtrodden it has been by few who hold the power and how (too) many never felt obliged to stand up and denounce the sorry state of things. She is one of the few who did, and paid by being ostracized from possibly all main TV channels, making a row of enemies for herself even among those whose political stance should be closer to hers, or those who should have the moral integrity to stand by her.

Since those enemies are very well aware of the potential of this "Italian Farenheit 9/11" as some movie critic has aptly labelled the movie, it is no surprise that there are only 55 screens showing it in Italy - as per the information on the official movie site - and definitely not the ones in the "mainstream" distribution, mainly owned or influenced by those people and companies whose interests are exposed - as was to be demonstrated. Trailers are also conspicuously absent from all usual TV spots for movies, and I am yet to see a single interview to people involved in Viva Zapatero - a further confirmation.

There is a strong autobiographical streak in the movie, recounting the sometimes grotesque events that led to her defenestration from RAI (public Italian) television and the clumsy, embarrassed, and unfortunately, ignorant justifications brought forward by the individuals involved. This storytelling choice could not have been avoided, though I would have preferred a wider series of cases which would have underlined the systematic quenching of any dissenting voices, both satirical and from independent media at large, which is taking place in Italy, and the equally systematic lack of response from the "opposition" which seems to willingly favour a less free system that they may have the fortune to be handed control over, after elections next year.

This movie is a funny, stimulating and valiant attempt at bringing a fundamental change in a country's basic political debate, open up eyes and provide people with a further tool to analyse the causes of the paralysis of its political system. However, I am afraid, it will not be seen by all those in Italy who would most greatly benefit from watching, neither in theaters, nor in its further incarnations, nor very much understood in its deep societal impact abroad.

Maybe Ms. Guzzanti would be best served by distributing it on the net for free, and by having her producers / distributors follow Michael Moore's lead by not charging fees for public free viewings. Low circulation of this satirical documentary would serve best only the interests of those Ms. Guzzanti is fighting against.

Final note: on the morning after I saw Viva Zapatero, Time Magazine named Beppe Grillo, one of the people whose story is very similar to Ms. Guzzanti's, who also appears in the movie, one of the "European Heroes 2005." Guzzanti is a strong candidate for 2006.

That was my comment, safely composed from Munich, under pseudonym...

Sin City (2005)

Seldom so impressed by a movie

[10/10 · 28 June 2005]

Had to watch it twice. I felt compelled, magnetized, mesmerized. Never happened to me before. I only watched it to cool off one of the hottest nights in a long summer - and got my nightmare without sleeping.

Is it technology? The movie is fully digital - and it shows in the amazing things it allows Rodriguez to do with dark Black and White and with colour details.

Or is it the stories? Told in a contorted series of intertwining situations, characters and places that uncover details of each character as you watch - not unlike Tarantino's own Pulp Fiction - the apprentice besting the master.

Or is it the action? Hyper-violent, over-the-top, splatter-prone, yet credible in its unfolding and never unwarranted.

Is it the actors? Many among them turning in memorable performances, sometimes their best ever, including a totally unrecognizable Mickey Rourke who meets the end he was promised in Angel Heart, with a great visual twist.

Or maybe the blood? It turns out White, Red and even Yellow streams, but it is unmistakeably it.

Or possibly the mixture of reality and (pulp) comic strip fiction? Indeed this does to noir cartoons what Pulp Fiction did to pulp fiction: a new cinema translation that will leave a mark on cinema stories and how they are told.

No. Of all the surprising features in the movie, I loved one most: an inordinate amount of extremely subtle yet all-encompassing movie quotations in the actual quotes, situations, setups, scenes, choice of actors in reference to their previous career roles, and, may I add, biographies. For example, take Rutger Hauer's rendering of Cardinal Roark's demise: isn't it a fantastic retribution for what he did as a replicant to his own creator in Blade Runner? This movie is a stunning mind-work of thousands of details merging into an epic story. Congratulations, Senor Rodriguez! What a sick imagination, Mr. Miller!

Another Life (2004)

Awful in many respects

[1/10 · 17 September 2004]

Spoiler Alert I was unlucky enough to see this awful movie at its presentation in Venice Festival last week. Experts may be put off by various technical aspects of the movie, how the actors played, photography, etc. I took offence at the incredible screenplay. Two examples of what I consider an absolutely outrageous way to treat audiences' intelligence:

1. Emma (Barbora Bobulova) is a surgeon. She is reviewing some images of an operation just finished in the middle of the night (do you know of any planned surgery to take place in the night?) during which she had to take over and finish what the lead surgeon, Leonardo (Stefano Dionisi), having had a nervous breakdown episode in the operating room, could not. Leonardo appears in the dim lit room and forces himself onto her, in a clear attempt of a rape. She fights back, hits him where it hurts most (HURRAY!). He falls on the ground, semi-unconscious (double hurray!). She freezes. Without even re-arranging her dress and underwear, leans towards him and utters: "I am sorry, did I hurt you?" Unfortunately, she means it, literally, and falls into his arms for a passionate encounter. WHAT?!? For a slightly more credible outcome of a situation like this one, I would have expected anything between a call for help or a stabbing of the bastard, Tosca-style. Not this pitifully unbelievable comedy.

2. Matteo (Stefano Accorsi) is a specialist in emergencies. He works on ambulances (I may be wrong, but, at least in Italy, there normally are no doctors on ambulances.... but let us not digress...) On the same night of the scene above, Elena (Violante Placido), a volunteer trainee, is on his ambulance. The long night is over. They drop off the driver (?!?!?). Accorsi takes the wheel. Here comes the twist of the movie: a feat flying in the face of all possible chances of destiny. While they are driving on one of Rome's numerous bridges, they come across a driver coming from the opposite side who is, obviously, losing control of his car. Accorsi steers straight into the side of the bridge and off the bridge and into the Tevere (which, in this sequence seems as deep as the giant reef fault...). Incredible? Wait and hear who was the other driver... The same Leonardo who was not following his lane because he was receiving a call back from Emma after their idyllic encounter, none less. How is anyone possibly expected to find this even remotely admissible? Probably a question for Messers Contarello and Piccolo who authored this masterpiece of Screenplay.

My final thought goes to the performance of Stefano Accorsi, an actor whom I have come to greatly appreciate in all his previous works. In this film one needs to wait until the last scene in which he appears in a full frontal nude to realize his attributes. Unfortunately, not the artistic ones.

A Full Day's Work (1973)

A film never to forget - 20 years ahead of its time

[2 June 2004]

I think I have seen this movie as a boy, as it was released, and, later on TV, many years after. It is astounding. A precursor of many trends which would be apparent and more commonplace two decades later. For example, the opening scene: the first victim is killed at a car wrecking lot with a violence and detachment reminiscent of a Tarantino movie.

Amazing soundtrack - which gets intertwined with the actual story of the movie when a piece is announced as "the hunter" on the radio of the vehicle of one of the last victims, a hunter himself. Makes you think that both victim and assassin are hearing it and gets you emotionally in the middle of the action, sharing the raw fear and excitement of the only victim who is forewarned of the threat and at least has the means to fight back. The main title is an unforgettable tune which stays with you much after you finished watching.

A road movie - using all the most improbable means of transportation and amazingly minimalist but effective stunt driving (I was not aware of Trintignant being the director and writer until I saw the file on IMDb - which would explain mastery of this aspect of the movie...).

What amazed me most was that even when you know why the apparently innocuous baker - a fantastic Jacques Dufilho - kills with no signs of remorse whatsoever all of those people, one finds himself in his shoes and becomes convinced that his was truly "Une journée bien remplie" - a well spent day. And anticipates (with a sarcastic grin) the one that grandpa Rousseau will soon spend too....

Nirvana (1997)

A masterpiece right under your eyes - but no one saw it....

[4 May 2004]

Films generally carry a title for a reason. Salvatores's Nirvana's is the key to understanding it. Without the key, the film will look like rubbish, like many comments here testify. But, if you get that key and use it, it can become one of the most astonishing movie experiences you may make.

The title is not just the name of a videogame. That is totally incidental.

The movie is about the voyage towards Nirvana - the real thing - of two men (or maybe of one man and his own projection in a virtual world): how the two (or maybe the man and his own inner conscience) start to understand what Nirvana is and how they eventually reach it, in spite of all misadventures and (that is not casual at all...) the cycles of deaths and rebirths that the virtual self Solo (meaning alone, in Italian, not Star Wars' character - again not a coincidence) has to go through.

This is a movie about symbolisms. This is a movie about the deepest searches of the soul. Searches that cannot be disturbed by petty concerns (see Bebo Storti's apparently bizarre line after he appears in a flash for just a few seconds to shoot and kill a very unlucky henchman "I am MEDITATING [profanities deleted]!").

Science fiction is incidental to its aims, and provides a fabulously well used tool to unravel the story in what I regard as a cinematic masterpiece.

Blade Runner's climax ended on the recognition that replicants (and humans, maybe) were just "tears... in the rain". Nirvana's is about snowflakes that fall forever, and yet never fall.... Pity this is so far above the expectations of an average moviegoer that most viewers did not even recognize the genius in its simplicity. My congratulations to Cacucci, Corica and Salvatores!