Con motivo de las Fiestas Patrias, acaban de estrenarse en las salas de la ciudad dos viejas conocidas del nuevo cine mexicano: El baile de San Juan, de Francisco Athié, y Somos lo que hay, de Jorge Mitchel, películas presentadas durante 2010 en los festivales de cine de Morelia y Guanajuato, respectivamente, que ostentan una visión opuesta más complementaria del país en el que vivimos.
Por un lado, El baile de San Juan, tercera producción de Francisco Athié (Lolo, 1992; Fibra óptica, 1996), ambientada en la época colonial, sumerge al espectador en los inicios de México al narrar la historia de Giovanni Marani, un joven actor de la Nueva España, hijo de padre italiano y madre indígena que, en busca de una carrera en los escenarios teatrales de la Corte, y desconociendo su origen, se verá inmerso en un dilema existencial por formar parte de aquello que antes le provocase aversión: el mestizaje.
Extraña suerte de tragedia griega en la que al protagonista se le cae la máscara para descubrir su propio rostro ante el espejo, pero con un final en el que se lo sublima en vez de destruírselo, El baile de San Juan es una puesta en escena, construida por más de ocho años y soportada rigurosamente desde lo histórico, acerca de los mecanismos más entrañables que determinaron el auge y la decadencia de la sociedad novohispana para dar paso al establecimiento del nuevo país.
En tanto que, por el otro, Somos lo que hay, ópera prima de Jorge Mitchel, ganadora como Mejor Largometraje del Festival Internacional de Cine de Guanajuato 2010, es una novela negra cuyos protagonistas son los miembros de una familia del Distrito Federal que, mediante sacrificios rituales, logran sobrevivir luego en el día a día de la capital. Metáfora siniestra del México en el que nos hallamos sumergidos actualmente, incestuosa antropofagia que ilustra la forma de vida a la que se ha llegado.
Y si al comienzo la película parece Principio y fin, el dramononón de Arturo Ripstein, espere, querido espectador, porque al final uno ya quiere un dramamine para el mareo… Así de sangrienta y barroca es esta farsa. Y nada de Hannibal Lecter ni de Silencio de los corderos o Dragón rojo: Mitchel nos recuerda que el organismo antropófago es una familia, médula de la sociedad, no un personaje perturbado de filme hollywoodense. Alusiones al canibalismo prehispánico y al tamalero asesino, resultan igualmente propicias.
Pese a la gran distancia temporal que existe entre una y otra, ambas cintas mantienen su vigencia al aludir a la actualidad de México; pero, mientras la primera lo hace remontándose al pasado colonial, colmando un vacío muchas veces relegado y respondiendo a la cuestión de qué ocurría aquí antes de la Independencia; la segunda está dolorosamente situada sobre las heridas del presente, como un desolador vaticinio del futuro que nos espera si la nave no endereza la trayectoria.
Altamente recomendables los dos filmes; mas, si lo que uno quiere es olvidar la violencia y dejar por un momento los temas de los noticieros, mejor ver El baile de San Juan; y si como afirma Rafael Lara, director de la comedia Labios rojos, protagonizada por Silvia Navarro y a estrenarse el próximo 7 de octubre de manera simultánea en México y Estados Unidos, el cine mexicano sólo tiene una semana (o incluso tres días) para hacerse conocer y disputarle un sitio a las omnipresentes películas de Hollywood, mejor ir cuanto antes a ver cualquiera de las dos películas, porque, seguramente, el jueves de la siguiente semana habrán abandonado la cartelera.
12 de septiembre de 2011
26 de agosto de 2011
“We Are What We Are” and “Metalocalypse” Directors Join “The ABCs of Death”
by Nigel M Smith (Updated 23 hours, 40 minutes ago)
Jason Eisener's "Hobo with a Shotgun." [Image courtesy of Magnet Releasing]
Drafthouse Films, Magnet Pictures and Timpson Films have come close to finalizing the list of 26 directors lined up to helm segments for their international co-production “The ABCs of Death.”
For the upcoming film, currently in co-production, each director was assigned a letter to represent a world (“animal attacks,” “beheadings,” “cannibals,” etc.) as an inspiration to tell a short story about death. A linking device will connect all 26 shorts.
Among the recent additions set to direct 26 individual episodes for the anthology horror film: Jon Schnepp (co-director of Adult Swin’s animated series “Metalocalypse”) and Jorge Michel Grau (“We Are What We Are”). They join an impressive roster that already included Jason Eisener (“Hobo with a Shotgun”), Ti West (“The Innkeepers”), Ben Wheatley (“Kill List”) and Srdjan Spasojevic (“A Serbian Film”).
The producers are holding a worldwide contest to find the 26th filmmaker to add to the crew. Go here to learn more about the contest, which ends October 1.
Below is the list of the 25 announced participating directors:
Kaare Andrews (“Altitude”), USA
Angela Bettis (“Roman”), USA
Ernesto Diaz Espinoza (“Mirageman;” “Mandrill”), Chile
Jason Eisener (“Hobo With A Shotgun”), Canada
Bruno Forzani & Héléne Cattet (“Amer”), Belgium
Adrian Garcia Bogliano (“Cold Sweat”), Mexico
Xavier Gens (“Frontiers;” “Hitman”), France
Jorge Michel Grau (“We Are What We Are”), Mexico
Noburo Iguchi, (“Robo Geisha”), Japan
Thomas Malling (“Norwegian Ninja”), Norway
Anders Morgenthaler (“Princess”), Denmark
Yoshihrio Nishimura (“Tokyo Gore Police”), Japan
Banjong Pisathanakun (“Shutter”),Thailand
Simon Rumley (“Red, White & Blue”), UK
Marcel Sarmiento (“Deadgirl”), USA
Jon Schnepp (“Metalocalypse;” “The Venture Bros.”), USA
Srdjan Spasojevic (“A Serbian Film”), Serbia
Timo Tjahjanto (“Macabre”), Indonesia
Andrew Traucki (“The Reef”), Australia
Nacho Vigalondo (“TimeCrimes”), Spain
Jake West “(Doghouse”), UK
Ti West (“House of the Devil”), USA
Ben Wheatley (“Down Terrace;” “Kill List”), UK
Adam Wingard (“A Horrible Way to Die”), USA
Yudai Yamaguchi (“Yakuza Weapon”), Japan
Jason Eisener's "Hobo with a Shotgun." [Image courtesy of Magnet Releasing]
Drafthouse Films, Magnet Pictures and Timpson Films have come close to finalizing the list of 26 directors lined up to helm segments for their international co-production “The ABCs of Death.”
For the upcoming film, currently in co-production, each director was assigned a letter to represent a world (“animal attacks,” “beheadings,” “cannibals,” etc.) as an inspiration to tell a short story about death. A linking device will connect all 26 shorts.
Among the recent additions set to direct 26 individual episodes for the anthology horror film: Jon Schnepp (co-director of Adult Swin’s animated series “Metalocalypse”) and Jorge Michel Grau (“We Are What We Are”). They join an impressive roster that already included Jason Eisener (“Hobo with a Shotgun”), Ti West (“The Innkeepers”), Ben Wheatley (“Kill List”) and Srdjan Spasojevic (“A Serbian Film”).
The producers are holding a worldwide contest to find the 26th filmmaker to add to the crew. Go here to learn more about the contest, which ends October 1.
Below is the list of the 25 announced participating directors:
Kaare Andrews (“Altitude”), USA
Angela Bettis (“Roman”), USA
Ernesto Diaz Espinoza (“Mirageman;” “Mandrill”), Chile
Jason Eisener (“Hobo With A Shotgun”), Canada
Bruno Forzani & Héléne Cattet (“Amer”), Belgium
Adrian Garcia Bogliano (“Cold Sweat”), Mexico
Xavier Gens (“Frontiers;” “Hitman”), France
Jorge Michel Grau (“We Are What We Are”), Mexico
Noburo Iguchi, (“Robo Geisha”), Japan
Thomas Malling (“Norwegian Ninja”), Norway
Anders Morgenthaler (“Princess”), Denmark
Yoshihrio Nishimura (“Tokyo Gore Police”), Japan
Banjong Pisathanakun (“Shutter”),Thailand
Simon Rumley (“Red, White & Blue”), UK
Marcel Sarmiento (“Deadgirl”), USA
Jon Schnepp (“Metalocalypse;” “The Venture Bros.”), USA
Srdjan Spasojevic (“A Serbian Film”), Serbia
Timo Tjahjanto (“Macabre”), Indonesia
Andrew Traucki (“The Reef”), Australia
Nacho Vigalondo (“TimeCrimes”), Spain
Jake West “(Doghouse”), UK
Ti West (“House of the Devil”), USA
Ben Wheatley (“Down Terrace;” “Kill List”), UK
Adam Wingard (“A Horrible Way to Die”), USA
Yudai Yamaguchi (“Yakuza Weapon”), Japan
6 de agosto de 2011
We Are What We Are – Reviewer: Craig Phillips Aug 1, 2011
Mexican director Jorge Michel Grau's undeniably creepy if tonally uneven We Are What We Are (Somos los que hay) is on the one hand a melancholy dysfunctional family tale, and on the other hand, well... they'd like to eat it.
After their father perishes in a heap on a city sidewalk, the two sons, Alfredo (Francisco Barreiro) and Julian (Alan Chávez*), help their haggard mother (Carmen Beato) with the family finances as well as the family appetite, despite not being especially equipped for either role. The most important thing? Continuing the family "ritual" -- the unpleasant task the patriarch done for them for years. Meanwhile, two curious cops, after seeing the coroner find a finger in the man's stomach, decide to investigate further -- at their own risk.
We Are What We Are is not exactly the cannibal family Robinson here, it's melancholy but graphic, horror with elements of family melodrama. One twist is that the women, who certainly have their own issues, are hardier than the males -- more capable of "doing what is necessary" to keep the family going. There's also a bit of an incestuous connection with his sultry sister Sabina (Paulina Gaitán, star of Sin Nombre), who wants Julian to take charge, while the more timid older brother Alfredo is a closeted homosexual -- obvious to the family, despite his denial. The melancholic Barreiro's face seems always on the verge of tears or outburst.
As with Let the Right One In, which it at times reminded me of, the film has you empathizing with characters who are real, flesh and blood (in this case eaters of such) who just happen to be burdened with a horrific need. Rather than distance us from the cannibals, as many other horror films do, they feel like they could be us and it's all the more chilling because of it. We have met these monsters, and they could be among us. But while the family dynamic adds a layer of angst and realism, the film's social commentary (Mexican middle class consumerism vs. poverty) is a bit convoluted.
Clearly this is not a film for everyone. Slasher and torture porn fans may find it too slow of pace and too "real" to be appealing; arthouse patrons could be turned off by some of the more horrific scenes. But for the most part Grau keeps the most gruesome bits to our imagination -- except for the more violent final act -- and for those who are game, it's a unique, intelligent genre piece. It's also not an especially long film, certainly doesn't draw things out more than necessary.
It is well-shot (cinematography is by relative newcomer Santiago Sanchez), darkly lit with grungy tones the shades of flypaper and concrete, and it has oddly intriguing art direction -- their home includes a series of clocks on the wall, each showing different times and the morgue has an almost comical feel to it (as befitting the darkly funny dialogue -- Coroner: "It's shocking how many people eat each other inthis city.").
The cops who sniff the trail of the family are meant to be a bit of bumbling comic relief, though they aren't especially funny. But their investigation does give the plot needed suspense as it goes along, as it otherwise threatens to devour itself. As it shifts into gear near the end there are macabre shades of Se7en.
While the elements didn't all jibe together for me, I wouldn't hesitate to dub Grau a filmmaker to watch.
-
*Note: I have since discovered the sad note that actor Alan Chávez, who plays Julian, was killed by gunfire in Mexico City after this film was completed. It's tragic and also a little ironic, given how the film does not depict that metropolis in the most flattering, or safest, of lights.
After their father perishes in a heap on a city sidewalk, the two sons, Alfredo (Francisco Barreiro) and Julian (Alan Chávez*), help their haggard mother (Carmen Beato) with the family finances as well as the family appetite, despite not being especially equipped for either role. The most important thing? Continuing the family "ritual" -- the unpleasant task the patriarch done for them for years. Meanwhile, two curious cops, after seeing the coroner find a finger in the man's stomach, decide to investigate further -- at their own risk.
We Are What We Are is not exactly the cannibal family Robinson here, it's melancholy but graphic, horror with elements of family melodrama. One twist is that the women, who certainly have their own issues, are hardier than the males -- more capable of "doing what is necessary" to keep the family going. There's also a bit of an incestuous connection with his sultry sister Sabina (Paulina Gaitán, star of Sin Nombre), who wants Julian to take charge, while the more timid older brother Alfredo is a closeted homosexual -- obvious to the family, despite his denial. The melancholic Barreiro's face seems always on the verge of tears or outburst.
As with Let the Right One In, which it at times reminded me of, the film has you empathizing with characters who are real, flesh and blood (in this case eaters of such) who just happen to be burdened with a horrific need. Rather than distance us from the cannibals, as many other horror films do, they feel like they could be us and it's all the more chilling because of it. We have met these monsters, and they could be among us. But while the family dynamic adds a layer of angst and realism, the film's social commentary (Mexican middle class consumerism vs. poverty) is a bit convoluted.
Clearly this is not a film for everyone. Slasher and torture porn fans may find it too slow of pace and too "real" to be appealing; arthouse patrons could be turned off by some of the more horrific scenes. But for the most part Grau keeps the most gruesome bits to our imagination -- except for the more violent final act -- and for those who are game, it's a unique, intelligent genre piece. It's also not an especially long film, certainly doesn't draw things out more than necessary.
It is well-shot (cinematography is by relative newcomer Santiago Sanchez), darkly lit with grungy tones the shades of flypaper and concrete, and it has oddly intriguing art direction -- their home includes a series of clocks on the wall, each showing different times and the morgue has an almost comical feel to it (as befitting the darkly funny dialogue -- Coroner: "It's shocking how many people eat each other inthis city.").
The cops who sniff the trail of the family are meant to be a bit of bumbling comic relief, though they aren't especially funny. But their investigation does give the plot needed suspense as it goes along, as it otherwise threatens to devour itself. As it shifts into gear near the end there are macabre shades of Se7en.
While the elements didn't all jibe together for me, I wouldn't hesitate to dub Grau a filmmaker to watch.
-
*Note: I have since discovered the sad note that actor Alan Chávez, who plays Julian, was killed by gunfire in Mexico City after this film was completed. It's tragic and also a little ironic, given how the film does not depict that metropolis in the most flattering, or safest, of lights.
We Are What We Are – DVD Review Posted by Jon Peters on Aug 1, 2011
While it is too easy to call We Are What We Are a Mexican Hills Have Eyes, the parallels are too similar to ignore. Dark, unforgiving, and beautifully shot, director Jorge Michel Grau paints a morbidly social tale of a poor family in the slums of Mexico City, but there’s little depth behind this pretty picture. There’s some thrills and chills, and they almost work in Grau’s big, broad strokes, but there’s little reason for the events after the credits roll, with a far too familiar twist at the end.
We Are What We Are is a cannibal family movie, minus the kookiness of that premise. Once this family loses their dad, they plan on carrying out the Ritual, but all goes to Hell and back, when an autopsy of their father, reveals a woman’s severed finger. The cops, sniffing potential money in the rights to this story, investigate. Within this set-up, the heart of the film is the deteriorating family connections between the mother and her sons. While Wes Craven kindly explored this notion back in the late 1970s with his cannibal family in The Hills Have Eyes, Grau manages to push the bonds of this family, their roles, and their expectations of some Ritual they keep blabbing about to the far extremes of their capacity. It’s like watching a chicken with its head cut off. Sooner or later, it’ll collapse.
Much like the family here. Yet there’s plenty of set-up with any real answers. Why are they cannibals? Because they are poor? If the mom recognizes their monster status as cannibals, why continue? Any correlation to the nature of capitalism’s fallout, is too loose to render the film depth. While the film is certainly moody, somewhat gory, and Grau is a gifted film-maker, much of We Are What We Are leaves the audience to confused without any payoff or sometimes, explanation to care beyond the prostitute gore.
The DVD:
Audio/Video: MPI Home Video offers up a really slick looking DVD. The details are high, and while it’s not the most colorful movie, the picture is vivid in its depiction of the reds and browns in the movie. The audio is equally as good too, no hisses, clean, and good subtitles.
We Are What We Are is a cannibal family movie, minus the kookiness of that premise. Once this family loses their dad, they plan on carrying out the Ritual, but all goes to Hell and back, when an autopsy of their father, reveals a woman’s severed finger. The cops, sniffing potential money in the rights to this story, investigate. Within this set-up, the heart of the film is the deteriorating family connections between the mother and her sons. While Wes Craven kindly explored this notion back in the late 1970s with his cannibal family in The Hills Have Eyes, Grau manages to push the bonds of this family, their roles, and their expectations of some Ritual they keep blabbing about to the far extremes of their capacity. It’s like watching a chicken with its head cut off. Sooner or later, it’ll collapse.
Much like the family here. Yet there’s plenty of set-up with any real answers. Why are they cannibals? Because they are poor? If the mom recognizes their monster status as cannibals, why continue? Any correlation to the nature of capitalism’s fallout, is too loose to render the film depth. While the film is certainly moody, somewhat gory, and Grau is a gifted film-maker, much of We Are What We Are leaves the audience to confused without any payoff or sometimes, explanation to care beyond the prostitute gore.
The DVD:
Audio/Video: MPI Home Video offers up a really slick looking DVD. The details are high, and while it’s not the most colorful movie, the picture is vivid in its depiction of the reds and browns in the movie. The audio is equally as good too, no hisses, clean, and good subtitles.
4 de agosto de 2011
DVD Review: We Are What We Are by Branden Chowen - July 31, 2011
Cannibal films seem to play second fiddle nowadays in the horror genre. This subgenre thrived with exploitation films of the ‘70s and ‘80s, with the “cannibal boom” era being 1977 to 1981. Today, we see vampires, werewolves, and remakes taking over the genre, which is why it is so refreshing to see first-time director Jorge Michel Grau’s Spanish cannibal film, We Are What We Are. Unlike the cannibal films that have come before it, though, We Are trades exploitation for a thought-provoking, and intense family drama.
We Are opens with an unexplained death of an older man. We come to find out that, before dying, this man was a patriarch, with two sons, a daughter, and a wife. The grieving family must now figure out how to survive without their father and husband to provide for them. Most importantly, the family must prepare for their ritual, which requires not only the taking of, but also the consuming of another human life.
Writer and director Jorge Michel Grau manages excellence in quite a few areas. The one that stands out the most has to be his decision to use long shots, even in the most brutal scenes. These lengthy shots add a sense of realism, and help the claustrophobic atmosphere of the dank, dark family home invade the viewer’s mind. This is one of the few films where showing less gore works. The film was shot with a small budget, and Grau replaces expensive special effects with masterful camera techniques, and it works better than 90% of the horror films I’ve seen in the past few years. Don’t get me wrong: We Are has a lot of blood; what makes the blood memorable, though, is how realistically it is produced.
The word “realistic” is one that bleeds into virtually every aspect of this film, and it is what makes We Are so disturbing. The perfect casting of Carmen Beato as Patricia – the mother – is the heart that keeps the creepiness of the family beating. She is, at times, cold and powerful, but also meek and sympathetic; no matter what, though, she is always ruthless. Beato’s veteran acting ability leads the much younger cast, who all rise up to Beato’s level. Paulina Gaitan (Sabina), Francisco Barreiro (Alfredo), and Alan Chávez (Julian) are all excellent young talents that have a bright future in film. Barreiro steals the show mostly because his character goes through the biggest arc in the story, and his changes – from dealing with becoming the new patriarch, his qualms with his mother, and his own sexual identity – are worth watching the film alone. Paulina Gaitan is beautiful and seductive, even to her own brother, which makes her character engaging. Alan Chávez’s Julian character is ferocious, and his actions call his past into question. Julian is definitely the most outwardly violent character in the film, but little is done to explain why this is. That small criticism aside, all the main characters in We Are are three-dimensional, and force the viewer to take notice. That’s a sentence not often seen when discussing a cannibal film.
Jorge Michel Grau makes the choice to leave a lot of gray area in We Are. There are few straight answers, and this may turn off some viewers. Why this ritual must take place, or the specifics of it are never really explained. The same can be said for the father figure that sparks this newfound rift in the family: how did he die? How did he handle this family’s business before his passing? These are just some of the many questions left unanswered. In some films, this vagueness would be a negative, but in We Are, it merely adds to the depth, grunginess, and realism of the film.
We Are is not for impatient viewers. The pacing is unquestionably slow. Fortunately the film’s climax is worth the wait, and even though the final act will be too muddy for some, We Are What We Are still stands out as one of the most interesting horror films, and best cannibal films, I’ve seen in years. This will surely develop a cult following in years to come, but there’s no reason to wait until then to check it out. We Are What We Are is absolutely recommended.
This We Are What We Are DVD from IFC Films looks great. There is rarely anything lost when the film goes into dark scenes, and the daytime scenes are bright as can be. The original 2.35:1 aspect ratio is left in tact, giving this DVD an anamorphic widescreen presentation. The Dolby Digital 5.1 Spanish sound option is equally adequate, and there is never any sound effects or dialogue lost to background music. There are also English and Spanish subtitle options. Again, the movie is spoken in Spanish with English (or Spanish) subtitles.
The special features on this DVD leave a lot to be desired. There is the We Are What We Are trailer (1:41) that sets the stage for the film well. Then there is a longer “making of” feature (28:32) that is a mixed bag in terms of quality. There are no interviews with the actors or the director, and the majority of the feature has loud background music taking over any potential dialogue. This is interesting in that it shows how some of the long shots and special effects were handled, but there is also a pointless 10-minute scene of the cast running around the studio area thrown in as well. The lack of any type of director’s commentary is a big disappointment.
IFC Films delivers on the audio/video side of the disc, but the 28-minute “making of” is too filled with fluff to be as good as it could’ve been. Fortunately the main feature is well worth the price of admission. Grau manages to make a cannibalistic family sympathetic, which is nothing short of brilliant. Anyone looking for a new take on the cannibal film – and those who are willing to sit through some slow pacing to reach the payoff – will want to give We Are What We Are a purchase.
IFC Films presents We Are What We Are. Written and Directed by: Jorge Michel Grau. Starring: Carmen Beato, Paulina Gaitan, Francisco Barreiro, and Alan Chávez. Running time: 89 minutes. Rating: Not Rated. Released on DVD: July 26, 2011. Available at Amazon.com.
We Are opens with an unexplained death of an older man. We come to find out that, before dying, this man was a patriarch, with two sons, a daughter, and a wife. The grieving family must now figure out how to survive without their father and husband to provide for them. Most importantly, the family must prepare for their ritual, which requires not only the taking of, but also the consuming of another human life.
Writer and director Jorge Michel Grau manages excellence in quite a few areas. The one that stands out the most has to be his decision to use long shots, even in the most brutal scenes. These lengthy shots add a sense of realism, and help the claustrophobic atmosphere of the dank, dark family home invade the viewer’s mind. This is one of the few films where showing less gore works. The film was shot with a small budget, and Grau replaces expensive special effects with masterful camera techniques, and it works better than 90% of the horror films I’ve seen in the past few years. Don’t get me wrong: We Are has a lot of blood; what makes the blood memorable, though, is how realistically it is produced.
The word “realistic” is one that bleeds into virtually every aspect of this film, and it is what makes We Are so disturbing. The perfect casting of Carmen Beato as Patricia – the mother – is the heart that keeps the creepiness of the family beating. She is, at times, cold and powerful, but also meek and sympathetic; no matter what, though, she is always ruthless. Beato’s veteran acting ability leads the much younger cast, who all rise up to Beato’s level. Paulina Gaitan (Sabina), Francisco Barreiro (Alfredo), and Alan Chávez (Julian) are all excellent young talents that have a bright future in film. Barreiro steals the show mostly because his character goes through the biggest arc in the story, and his changes – from dealing with becoming the new patriarch, his qualms with his mother, and his own sexual identity – are worth watching the film alone. Paulina Gaitan is beautiful and seductive, even to her own brother, which makes her character engaging. Alan Chávez’s Julian character is ferocious, and his actions call his past into question. Julian is definitely the most outwardly violent character in the film, but little is done to explain why this is. That small criticism aside, all the main characters in We Are are three-dimensional, and force the viewer to take notice. That’s a sentence not often seen when discussing a cannibal film.
Jorge Michel Grau makes the choice to leave a lot of gray area in We Are. There are few straight answers, and this may turn off some viewers. Why this ritual must take place, or the specifics of it are never really explained. The same can be said for the father figure that sparks this newfound rift in the family: how did he die? How did he handle this family’s business before his passing? These are just some of the many questions left unanswered. In some films, this vagueness would be a negative, but in We Are, it merely adds to the depth, grunginess, and realism of the film.
We Are is not for impatient viewers. The pacing is unquestionably slow. Fortunately the film’s climax is worth the wait, and even though the final act will be too muddy for some, We Are What We Are still stands out as one of the most interesting horror films, and best cannibal films, I’ve seen in years. This will surely develop a cult following in years to come, but there’s no reason to wait until then to check it out. We Are What We Are is absolutely recommended.
This We Are What We Are DVD from IFC Films looks great. There is rarely anything lost when the film goes into dark scenes, and the daytime scenes are bright as can be. The original 2.35:1 aspect ratio is left in tact, giving this DVD an anamorphic widescreen presentation. The Dolby Digital 5.1 Spanish sound option is equally adequate, and there is never any sound effects or dialogue lost to background music. There are also English and Spanish subtitle options. Again, the movie is spoken in Spanish with English (or Spanish) subtitles.
The special features on this DVD leave a lot to be desired. There is the We Are What We Are trailer (1:41) that sets the stage for the film well. Then there is a longer “making of” feature (28:32) that is a mixed bag in terms of quality. There are no interviews with the actors or the director, and the majority of the feature has loud background music taking over any potential dialogue. This is interesting in that it shows how some of the long shots and special effects were handled, but there is also a pointless 10-minute scene of the cast running around the studio area thrown in as well. The lack of any type of director’s commentary is a big disappointment.
IFC Films delivers on the audio/video side of the disc, but the 28-minute “making of” is too filled with fluff to be as good as it could’ve been. Fortunately the main feature is well worth the price of admission. Grau manages to make a cannibalistic family sympathetic, which is nothing short of brilliant. Anyone looking for a new take on the cannibal film – and those who are willing to sit through some slow pacing to reach the payoff – will want to give We Are What We Are a purchase.
IFC Films presents We Are What We Are. Written and Directed by: Jorge Michel Grau. Starring: Carmen Beato, Paulina Gaitan, Francisco Barreiro, and Alan Chávez. Running time: 89 minutes. Rating: Not Rated. Released on DVD: July 26, 2011. Available at Amazon.com.
11 de julio de 2011
‘We Are What We Are’ Reviewed by Rick Klaw
Directed/Written by: Jorge Michel Grau
Starring: Francisco Barreiro, Alan Chávez, Paulina Gaitán, Carmen Beato, Jorge Zárate and Esteban Soberánes
In a debut feature reminiscent of the 1977 Wes Craven classic “The Hills Have Eyes,” writer-director Jorge Michel Grau offers a unique portrait of an unusual Mexican family with the disturbing and compelling “We Are What We Are.”
Following the sudden death of their patriarch/caretaker, the temperamental Patricia (Carmen Beato) and her three teenage children must fend for themselves. Father prepared the rituals and acquired the meat for this family of cannibals. Aided by his impetuous younger brother Julián (Alan Chávez) and his pragmatic sister Sabina (Paulina Gaitán), the eldest son, Alfredo (Francisco Barreiro), is now charged with this momentous task, a responsibility he seems ill suited for. Chaos and emotional turmoil follow as the family hunts for the flesh they need to survive.
Grau, winner of several awards for shorter works, populates this claustrophobic, dark reality with unsavory and unsympathetic characters. A bumbling cop (Jorge Zárate), creepy undertaker (Daniel Giménez Cacho) and an effeminate young man (Esteban Soberánes) initially appear as possible comic relief in the oppressively nihilistic film, but all quickly spiral into the inner voids of selfishness and cruelty. Even the likable Sabina descends to the depths of the familial hell. After all, it is difficult to maintain sympathy for someone after watching him or her gleefully nibble on the bloody thigh of a bound victim.
Astonishingly, despite the unpleasant premise, Grau manages to keep the bloodletting below pre-spectacle levels, rather relying primarily on shadows and innuendo with just the proper amount of shock-inducing gore, more in line with a Hitchcockian thriller than the film’s more immediate antecedents such as the “Saw” films, “The Descent” and “Hostel.” The oft-times surprising story, replete with none-too-subtle parallels to contemporary urban Mexican life, disappointedly culminates into a predictable conclusion.
Empowered by some excellent acting especially from Gaitán (“Sin Nombre”) and Barreiro (“Perpetuum Mobile”), the mesmerizing “We Are What We Are” features the arrival of a promising new talent, destined to be a prominent figure within the next generation of horror moviemakers.
Starring: Francisco Barreiro, Alan Chávez, Paulina Gaitán, Carmen Beato, Jorge Zárate and Esteban Soberánes
In a debut feature reminiscent of the 1977 Wes Craven classic “The Hills Have Eyes,” writer-director Jorge Michel Grau offers a unique portrait of an unusual Mexican family with the disturbing and compelling “We Are What We Are.”
Following the sudden death of their patriarch/caretaker, the temperamental Patricia (Carmen Beato) and her three teenage children must fend for themselves. Father prepared the rituals and acquired the meat for this family of cannibals. Aided by his impetuous younger brother Julián (Alan Chávez) and his pragmatic sister Sabina (Paulina Gaitán), the eldest son, Alfredo (Francisco Barreiro), is now charged with this momentous task, a responsibility he seems ill suited for. Chaos and emotional turmoil follow as the family hunts for the flesh they need to survive.
Grau, winner of several awards for shorter works, populates this claustrophobic, dark reality with unsavory and unsympathetic characters. A bumbling cop (Jorge Zárate), creepy undertaker (Daniel Giménez Cacho) and an effeminate young man (Esteban Soberánes) initially appear as possible comic relief in the oppressively nihilistic film, but all quickly spiral into the inner voids of selfishness and cruelty. Even the likable Sabina descends to the depths of the familial hell. After all, it is difficult to maintain sympathy for someone after watching him or her gleefully nibble on the bloody thigh of a bound victim.
Astonishingly, despite the unpleasant premise, Grau manages to keep the bloodletting below pre-spectacle levels, rather relying primarily on shadows and innuendo with just the proper amount of shock-inducing gore, more in line with a Hitchcockian thriller than the film’s more immediate antecedents such as the “Saw” films, “The Descent” and “Hostel.” The oft-times surprising story, replete with none-too-subtle parallels to contemporary urban Mexican life, disappointedly culminates into a predictable conclusion.
Empowered by some excellent acting especially from Gaitán (“Sin Nombre”) and Barreiro (“Perpetuum Mobile”), the mesmerizing “We Are What We Are” features the arrival of a promising new talent, destined to be a prominent figure within the next generation of horror moviemakers.
5 de julio de 2011
Egy kicsi abból, amik vagyunk - Interjú a Vagyunk, akik vagyunk alkotóival hangyaPASS#01: az ötödik film 2011. június 21-én a mozikban by Árva Márton
A hangyaPASS#01 ötödik filmje, a Vagyunk, akik vagyunk kapcsán Jorge Michel Grau rendező, Nicolás Celis producer és Francisco Barreiro színész részvételével online beszélgettünk a mexikói új filmről, emberi drámákról és horrorba oltott társadalomrajzról. A folytatásban olvasható az interjú szövege! Aki videó verzióban is kíváncsi az alkotókra, az pedig kattintson IDE!
PRAE.HU: Az utóbbi öt-hat évben látványosan megnövekedett az elsőfilmek száma Mexikóban. Új és nagyon merész generáció lepte el a mexikói film színterét, és nemzetközi sikereket ért el. Szerintetek minek köszönhető ez?
Jorge Michel Grau: Úgy gondolom, több faktor együttesen érvényesül a 2005 utáni elsőfilmek esetében. Az egyik legfontosabb Mexikó politikai fordulata. 2000-ben kormányváltás történt nálunk, és azelőtt 70 évig ugyanaz a párt volt hatalmon. A 2000-ben kormányra került párt egyik legfontosabb ígérete volt, hogy szólásszabadságot teremt. Így sok, addig elhallgattatott hang és addig cenzúrázott téma előtt nyitották meg a kapukat, hogy a hatalmat megkapják és megtarthassák. Az emberek már nem féltek filmezni, dokumentumfilmeket vagy leleplező kisfilmeket készíteni. Mégis rossz szájíz maradt ez után a kormányváltás után, mert jött egy új kormány, ami illúziókba kergetett, és öt évvel később az ország a fordulat előttinél is rosszabb állapotban volt. Szerintem ez az egyik oka annak, hogy az új generáció másfajta diskurzust folytat, új megközelítésmódja van. Ennek az eredményét látjuk most: rengeteg film, sok közülük elsőfilm, amik az ország jelenéről és valóságáról szólnak. A másik fontos ok, hogy Mexikóban egy olyan produkciós rendszert állítottak fel, ami adókedvezményhez juttatja a filmkészítést. Ez lehetővé teszi, hogy sokan részt vegyenek a filmiparban, és mivel a második vagy harmadik filmjüket készítők hozzájutnak ehhez a kedvezményhez, az elsőfilmesek hozzáférnek az állami kerethez.
Nicolás Celis: Teljesen igaz, amit Jorge mondott. Ettől a filmgyártás minden területe fellendült, vagyis minden műfaj hozzájuthatott az anyagi forrásokhoz, pályakezdő és már tapasztaltabb rendezők is. A kezdő filmesek így belevághatnak a filmezésbe jó ötletekkel, és nem az anyagi haszon az elsődleges céljuk, hanem az, hogy elmesélhessék a történetüket anélkül, hogy túl sok mindent kéne kockára tenniük. Úgy gondolom, hogy ez nekünk és más filmeseknek is sokat segített, hogy megtegyék az első lépést a filmkészítés felé.
J.M.G.: Szerintem az internet elterjedésének is köszönhető, hogy globálisak lehetünk, és hozzáférhetünk más országok filmjeihez. Ez sokkal szélesebb skálát tár elénk. Láthatunk olyan dolgokat, amikhez eddig nem tudtunk hozzájutni. Mexikó, harmadik világbeli ország révén, sok tekintetben elmaradott, de az internet lehetőséget ad, hogy olyan műveket, képzőművészetet, zenét érjünk el, amikkel pótoljuk a lemaradást.
Francisco Barreiro: Szerintem fontos az is, hogy megváltozott a filmkészítés módja. Éppen azzal, hogy bejöttek az új technológiák, a filmkészítés egyre inkább elérhető cél lett. A kép egyre jobb felbontású, és ez új produkciós módokat tesz lehetővé, ahol a filmkészítés olcsóbb lehet, ezért ambiciózus projekteket meg lehet valósítani egyszerűbben, letisztultabban. Ez is hozzájárult, hogy sok kezdő filmes elszántabban próbálta véghezvinni a terveit. A filmkészítés folyamatosan alakul, és a technológiák egyre közelebb kerülnek a művészek alapvető igényeihez, akik így ki tudják fejezni magukat.
N.C.: Még annyit tennék hozzá ahhoz, amit Jorge és Paco elmondtak, hogy Latin-Amerikában az ilyen típusú, nemzetközi hírű filmek, melyek ezeken a piacokon működnek, koprodukciókban készülnek. Nemzetközi filmalapokhoz jutottak el, különféle pályázatokon vettek részt. Tehát mexikói projektekről beszélünk, bár ezek részben európai pénzből készültek. Sok mexikói film anyagilag elbukna, ha nem érné el külföldön az ideális közönségét, és így nem tudná behozni a költségeit.
PRAE.HU: Ebben a helyzetben hogyan lehet megtartani a saját karaktert, a mexikóiságot úgy, hogy a világ más részein is emészthető mozit készíts?
N.C.: Mexikó nagyon nagy és sokszínű ország. Nagyon gazdag, nagyon szegény, rengeteg árnyalata van, ezért sokfajta mozi készül itt, és ennek így is kell lennie. Az egyik az erőszakot, a másik a szépséget tárgyalja, a dokumentumfilmek a közösségekről, a politikusokról beszélnek. Sok témát kell feldolgozni, történetek várnak elmesélésre. De egyre kevesebb tér van arra, hogy megmutassuk őket, és nem csak Mexikóban. Úgy normál forgalmazásban, mint a fesztiválokon egyre nehezebb a független produkciók helyzete, és egyre nagyobb erőfeszítéseket kell tenni, hogy megmutassuk a mexikói mozi összes árnyalatát. Akár koprodukciókkal érjük el, hogy szélesebb körben mutassák be a filmeket, nemzetközi forgalmazással, akár digitális terjesztéssel, interneten, fontos, hogy ez a fajta filmezés továbbra is létezhessen, és hogy az alkotók, írók tovább írhassanak anélkül, hogy attól kelljen félniük, hogy lesz-e, aki kíváncsi ezekre a történetekre.
PRAE.HU: Mi Iñárritu generációjának szerepe az ezredforduló körüli gyors változásokban?
J.M.G.: Cuarón, Guillermo del Toro és Iñárritu generációja éppen 2000-ben hagyja el az országot, a Korcs szerelmek után, ami a húsbavágó valóságot nagyon látványos narrációval dolgozza fel. Ők ezután már nem Mexikóban filmeznek, de fontos szerepük van abban, hogy a fiatalokat arra ösztönözzék, tanuljanak filmiskolákban. A film, amivel Guillermo del Toro elindította ezt a generációt, 1993-ban készült, a Cronos¸a Korcs szerelmeknél sokkal régebbi film. A Korcs szerelmek hozta el az áttörést, a nemzetközi sajtófigyelmet, és szerintem a legfontosabb az, hogy az emberek közeledni kezdtek a filmoktatáshoz, és hinni kezdtek a filmben. Ezen kívül pedig ránk irányította több médium figyelmét, a sajtóét és a fesztiválokét is, amik ezután figyelték, mit csinálunk.
PRAE.HU: Ha már említetted a Cronost, rátérhetünk a Vagyunk, akik vagyunkra, amiben van egy Cronos-hommage jelenet, amivel a fekete humor belép az amúgy deprimáltabb hangulatú filmbe. Miért ez a tiszteletadás?
J.M.G.: Ebből az említett generációból Guillermo del Toro az a rendező, aki miatt szerettem volna filmet készíteni. Amikor a moziban láttam a Cronost, belebolondultam. Mert a műfaj azelőtt Mexikóban elég szegény volt, a néhány horrorra specializálódott rendezőnk, mint Taboada és López Moctezuma már ekkora befejezte pályáját, és az ő filmjeik középszerűek voltak. Guillermo del Toro a Cronosszal forradalmasította a műfajt az országban, és engem is rabul ejtett. Én 2000-ben kezdtem a filmiskolában, és kamaszkorom óta imádtam ezt a filmet. Így amikor lehetőségem volt megírni a forgatókönyvet, nem volt kétséges számomra, hogy tisztelegni fogok a film előtt, ami elvezetett a műfajhoz, és ahhoz, hogy ezen a műfajon belül fogalmazzam meg a mondanivalómat.
PRAE.HU: A Cronos is a szörny emberi oldalát mutatja, ahogy azt a Vagyunk, akik vagyunk családja esetében is láthatjuk. Francisco, a te karaktered is szörnyeteg, mégis van egy érzelmes, bizonytalan oldala is. Milyen kihívások elé állított a szerep?
F.B.: Éppen erről van szó, a legfontosabb kihívás, amit Jorge már a legelején tisztázott velünk, az volt, hogy megpróbáljuk ezeket a személyiségeket egy valószerűségbe ágyazni, egy olyan valóságba, ami létezhet Mexikóvárosban. Hogy tényleg az legyen az érzésünk, amikor látjuk őket a vásznon, hogy akár köztünk is járhatnak. Mexikóban volt ilyenre példa, létezhet kannibalizmus egy nagyvárosban. Úgy gondolom, ez volt az elsődleges kihívás. Emberi lényekről beszéltünk, akik valamilyen kisebb törzshöz tartoznak, amikből nagyon sok van Mexikóban, és mindegyik más-más szokásokat gyakorol. Ez az egyik közülük, amelynek saját szokásai vannak, de ez csak egy a sok csoportosulás közül, akik Mexikóvárosban élnek. Nagyon fontos volt megformálni az emberi lényt, és ezután megmutatni a szörnyeteget, a kannibált, vagy bármi legyen is.
PRAE.HU: Jorge, a forgatókönyv megtörtént esetet dolgoz fel, vagy tisztán társadalmi parabola?
J.M.G.: Ez egy társadalmi parabola, egy allegória, az én értelmezésem arról, ami ma Mexikóban történik. Az az érzésed, hogy mindenki a maga bőrét menti. Hogy az embernek a saját érdekeit kell néznie, mivel nincsen egy szabályozó hatalom, és mert az utca hihetetlenül veszélyes. Vannak olyan államok, ahol az emberek nem mennek ki az utcára este hat után. Mert az utca már nem hozzánk tartozik, hanem a drogkereskedőkhöz. Ettől széthullik a társadalom, és én ezt az értékvesztést próbáltam meg megfogalmazni a filmben. Azt, hogy az emberek ma már nem ismerik egymást, hogy lehet, hogy a veled szemben élő szomszédod egy kannibál, és te nem is tudsz róla, észre sem veszed. Másrészt, hogy megalapozott legyen ez a valószerűség a filmben, amiről Paco beszélt, végeztem kutatásokat a városi kannibalizmusról, a rituális kannibalizmust vizsgáltam. Felkutattam azokat a gyilkosokat, akik végül megették az áldozatukat, és ebből merítettem, amikor kialakítottam a karakterek személyiségét. De a film alapvetően társadalmi parabola.
PRAE.HU: Tehát egyrészt a társadalmi mondanivaló, másrészt a műfajokkal való játék motivált, mert egy horrorról van szó, aminek drámai oldala is van.
J.M.G.: Igen, ez volt a nagy kockázat a filmben. A film a CCC (a mexikói filmiskola) elsőfilmes projektjéhez tartozik. Amikor a forgatókönyv más tervekkel versenyzett, az egyik vonzereje éppen ezeknek a műfajoknak a kockázatos keverése volt: Mi történne, ha egy olyan történetet mesélnék, ami az emberek szemében drámai, vagy melodrámai, mégis a horror műfaján belül tenném ezt? Felkeltette a figyelmüket, és ennek szerintem döntő szerepe volt abban, hogy a film megnyerte a versenyt, és lehetőséget kaptunk, hogy megcsináljuk. Lettek nagyon szerencsés dolgok a filmben, az egyik ez a hibrid, amit a színészek rendkívüli munkájával értünk el. Ez sokat segített, hogy a melodráma is megmaradjon, és a horror szerkezet is működjön.
PRAE.HU: Egy újabb párhuzam a Cronos és a Vagyunk, akik vagyunk között, hogy a Cronost is jobban fogadták külföldön.
N.C.: Úgy gondolom, hogy nehéz tükörbe nézni. Nálunk Mexikóban az erőszak nagyon aktuális téma és szerintem külföldön ez a film nagy meglepetéseket okozott. Egy olyan valóságot mutat, amibe beléphet az ember, átérezheti, és fokozatosan sikerülhet megérteni az üzenetet, amit szántunk neki, tehát, hogy beleilleszti a filmbéli családot a mai mexikói társadalomba. Úgy gondolom, a külföldieknek ez érdekes, mert a korrupcióról, a család védelméről szól, és beszél a Mexikóban lévő minivárosokról. Ezek rengeteg házból állnak, a szomszédok félnek egymástól, az autókat rácsok alatt tartják. Sokan úgy gondolhatják, hogy ez a valóság nem igaz, nem történhet meg. De sok eset példázza a kannibalizmust Mexikóban, és nagyon szokatlan szembenézni valamivel, ami ennyire durva, mégis igaz. Talán a te szomszédod nem kannibál, de emberrabló, és a mellette lévő házból tart fogva valakit. Szóval úgy gondolom, hogy a nemzetközi publikum számára a film egy más megközelítésből mutat meg egy olyan Mexikót, amit nem látott előtte.
PRAE.HU: Jorge, hogyan segítenél a film végkifejletének értelmezésében? Mit jelent Sabina (Paulina Gaitán) démoni nézése?
J.M.G.: Két dolgot szerettem volna elérni. A film célja az, hogy azonosulj a szörnnyel, mert amikor a túlélés szükségéről van szó, mindannyian szörnyetegek leszünk, mindünkkel megtörténik, hogy át kell taposnunk valakin, nehogy ő taposson ránk. Tehát a szereplők ellenségévé válsz, ugyanakkor kialakul valamilyen kötődésed is hozzájuk. Ezért tetszett az az érzés, hogy a néző örülhet annak, hogy Sabina túlélte, de ugyanezért érezze is magát veszélyben. Hogy cinkosa legyél a bestiának. Másrészt pedig a pesszimizmusom miatt mindig azt gondoltam, hogy a bestia és a gonosz sosem halnak meg. Tehát az is a szándékom volt, hogy azt mondjam a közönségnek: “Nem menekültél meg!”
PRAE.HU: A mai mexikói filmek nagy részében megjelenik az a motívum, hogy a hősnek el kell foglalnia azt az űrt, ami az idősek eltűnte után marad. Van ebben valami önreflexív?
J.M.G.: Mexikóban a családok két ok miatt is családfő nélkül maradnak. Az egyik a kivándorlás. Az Egyesült Államokba emigráló mexikóiak túlnyomó többsége férfi. Az ő családjuk így apakép nélkül marad. Ezért a családnak újra kell szerveződnie, újra kell osztani a családban betöltött szerepeket a túléléshez. És ma a másik fontos faktor, ami miatt a családok apa nélkül maradnak a drog. 40 000 halottról beszélünk, aminek legalább 80%-a férfi. Tehát apa nélküli családot nagyon gyakran látni az utcán. Ez is a kérdése a filmnek: Mi történik a családdal, ha elveszíti a vezetőjét? És itt nem csupán a család fejéről van szó, hanem a szellemi vezérről, aki a rítust elvégzi, és aki kötelezi a családot is annak gyakorlására, és ellátja őket élelemmel, biztonságot ad, stb. Mi történik a családdal? Igen, ez egy közös nevező a mexikói családok között.
PRAE.HU: Ez a helyzet rímelhet az éles törés után pályakezdő filmesek helyzetére is, nem?
J.M.G.: De, valóban, ez egy érdekes értelmezés, hogy mi is vezetők nélkül maradtunk.
PRAE.HU: Köszönöm, hogy elfogadtátok a részvételt, és sok sikert kívánok!
J.M.G.: Nagyon köszönjük, és köszönjük, hogy eljuttatják a munkánkat a magyar nézőkhöz, hogy megismerjenek egy kicsit abból, amik vagyunk.
A Vagyunk, akik vagyunk (Somos lo que hay) junius 21-én látható az ország mozijaiban a hangyaPASS#01 örödik filmjeként.
Bővebb információk a magyarhangya weboldalán és facebook oldalán olvashatóak - a hangyaPASS-ról, a filmekről, a vetítésekről...
Vagyunk, akik vagyunk (Somos lo que hay)
Színes, feliratos, mexikói horror, 90 perc, 2010.
Rendező: Jorge Michel Grau
Forgatókönyvíró: Jorge Michel Grau
Zeneszerző: Enrico Chapela
Operatőr: Santiago Sanchez
Vágó: Rodrigo Ríos
Szereplők: Francisco Barreiro (Alfredo), Paulina Gaitan (Sabina), Alan Chávez (Julian), Adrián Aguirre (Adriana), Miriam Balderas (Sheila), Carmen Beato (Patricia)
Bemutató: 2011. június 21. (a film csak ezen az egyetlen napon nyakoncsípető!)
Forgalmazza: Cinefil Co és a magyarhangya
PRAE.HU: Az utóbbi öt-hat évben látványosan megnövekedett az elsőfilmek száma Mexikóban. Új és nagyon merész generáció lepte el a mexikói film színterét, és nemzetközi sikereket ért el. Szerintetek minek köszönhető ez?
Jorge Michel Grau: Úgy gondolom, több faktor együttesen érvényesül a 2005 utáni elsőfilmek esetében. Az egyik legfontosabb Mexikó politikai fordulata. 2000-ben kormányváltás történt nálunk, és azelőtt 70 évig ugyanaz a párt volt hatalmon. A 2000-ben kormányra került párt egyik legfontosabb ígérete volt, hogy szólásszabadságot teremt. Így sok, addig elhallgattatott hang és addig cenzúrázott téma előtt nyitották meg a kapukat, hogy a hatalmat megkapják és megtarthassák. Az emberek már nem féltek filmezni, dokumentumfilmeket vagy leleplező kisfilmeket készíteni. Mégis rossz szájíz maradt ez után a kormányváltás után, mert jött egy új kormány, ami illúziókba kergetett, és öt évvel később az ország a fordulat előttinél is rosszabb állapotban volt. Szerintem ez az egyik oka annak, hogy az új generáció másfajta diskurzust folytat, új megközelítésmódja van. Ennek az eredményét látjuk most: rengeteg film, sok közülük elsőfilm, amik az ország jelenéről és valóságáról szólnak. A másik fontos ok, hogy Mexikóban egy olyan produkciós rendszert állítottak fel, ami adókedvezményhez juttatja a filmkészítést. Ez lehetővé teszi, hogy sokan részt vegyenek a filmiparban, és mivel a második vagy harmadik filmjüket készítők hozzájutnak ehhez a kedvezményhez, az elsőfilmesek hozzáférnek az állami kerethez.
Nicolás Celis: Teljesen igaz, amit Jorge mondott. Ettől a filmgyártás minden területe fellendült, vagyis minden műfaj hozzájuthatott az anyagi forrásokhoz, pályakezdő és már tapasztaltabb rendezők is. A kezdő filmesek így belevághatnak a filmezésbe jó ötletekkel, és nem az anyagi haszon az elsődleges céljuk, hanem az, hogy elmesélhessék a történetüket anélkül, hogy túl sok mindent kéne kockára tenniük. Úgy gondolom, hogy ez nekünk és más filmeseknek is sokat segített, hogy megtegyék az első lépést a filmkészítés felé.
J.M.G.: Szerintem az internet elterjedésének is köszönhető, hogy globálisak lehetünk, és hozzáférhetünk más országok filmjeihez. Ez sokkal szélesebb skálát tár elénk. Láthatunk olyan dolgokat, amikhez eddig nem tudtunk hozzájutni. Mexikó, harmadik világbeli ország révén, sok tekintetben elmaradott, de az internet lehetőséget ad, hogy olyan műveket, képzőművészetet, zenét érjünk el, amikkel pótoljuk a lemaradást.
Francisco Barreiro: Szerintem fontos az is, hogy megváltozott a filmkészítés módja. Éppen azzal, hogy bejöttek az új technológiák, a filmkészítés egyre inkább elérhető cél lett. A kép egyre jobb felbontású, és ez új produkciós módokat tesz lehetővé, ahol a filmkészítés olcsóbb lehet, ezért ambiciózus projekteket meg lehet valósítani egyszerűbben, letisztultabban. Ez is hozzájárult, hogy sok kezdő filmes elszántabban próbálta véghezvinni a terveit. A filmkészítés folyamatosan alakul, és a technológiák egyre közelebb kerülnek a művészek alapvető igényeihez, akik így ki tudják fejezni magukat.
N.C.: Még annyit tennék hozzá ahhoz, amit Jorge és Paco elmondtak, hogy Latin-Amerikában az ilyen típusú, nemzetközi hírű filmek, melyek ezeken a piacokon működnek, koprodukciókban készülnek. Nemzetközi filmalapokhoz jutottak el, különféle pályázatokon vettek részt. Tehát mexikói projektekről beszélünk, bár ezek részben európai pénzből készültek. Sok mexikói film anyagilag elbukna, ha nem érné el külföldön az ideális közönségét, és így nem tudná behozni a költségeit.
PRAE.HU: Ebben a helyzetben hogyan lehet megtartani a saját karaktert, a mexikóiságot úgy, hogy a világ más részein is emészthető mozit készíts?
N.C.: Mexikó nagyon nagy és sokszínű ország. Nagyon gazdag, nagyon szegény, rengeteg árnyalata van, ezért sokfajta mozi készül itt, és ennek így is kell lennie. Az egyik az erőszakot, a másik a szépséget tárgyalja, a dokumentumfilmek a közösségekről, a politikusokról beszélnek. Sok témát kell feldolgozni, történetek várnak elmesélésre. De egyre kevesebb tér van arra, hogy megmutassuk őket, és nem csak Mexikóban. Úgy normál forgalmazásban, mint a fesztiválokon egyre nehezebb a független produkciók helyzete, és egyre nagyobb erőfeszítéseket kell tenni, hogy megmutassuk a mexikói mozi összes árnyalatát. Akár koprodukciókkal érjük el, hogy szélesebb körben mutassák be a filmeket, nemzetközi forgalmazással, akár digitális terjesztéssel, interneten, fontos, hogy ez a fajta filmezés továbbra is létezhessen, és hogy az alkotók, írók tovább írhassanak anélkül, hogy attól kelljen félniük, hogy lesz-e, aki kíváncsi ezekre a történetekre.
PRAE.HU: Mi Iñárritu generációjának szerepe az ezredforduló körüli gyors változásokban?
J.M.G.: Cuarón, Guillermo del Toro és Iñárritu generációja éppen 2000-ben hagyja el az országot, a Korcs szerelmek után, ami a húsbavágó valóságot nagyon látványos narrációval dolgozza fel. Ők ezután már nem Mexikóban filmeznek, de fontos szerepük van abban, hogy a fiatalokat arra ösztönözzék, tanuljanak filmiskolákban. A film, amivel Guillermo del Toro elindította ezt a generációt, 1993-ban készült, a Cronos¸a Korcs szerelmeknél sokkal régebbi film. A Korcs szerelmek hozta el az áttörést, a nemzetközi sajtófigyelmet, és szerintem a legfontosabb az, hogy az emberek közeledni kezdtek a filmoktatáshoz, és hinni kezdtek a filmben. Ezen kívül pedig ránk irányította több médium figyelmét, a sajtóét és a fesztiválokét is, amik ezután figyelték, mit csinálunk.
PRAE.HU: Ha már említetted a Cronost, rátérhetünk a Vagyunk, akik vagyunkra, amiben van egy Cronos-hommage jelenet, amivel a fekete humor belép az amúgy deprimáltabb hangulatú filmbe. Miért ez a tiszteletadás?
J.M.G.: Ebből az említett generációból Guillermo del Toro az a rendező, aki miatt szerettem volna filmet készíteni. Amikor a moziban láttam a Cronost, belebolondultam. Mert a műfaj azelőtt Mexikóban elég szegény volt, a néhány horrorra specializálódott rendezőnk, mint Taboada és López Moctezuma már ekkora befejezte pályáját, és az ő filmjeik középszerűek voltak. Guillermo del Toro a Cronosszal forradalmasította a műfajt az országban, és engem is rabul ejtett. Én 2000-ben kezdtem a filmiskolában, és kamaszkorom óta imádtam ezt a filmet. Így amikor lehetőségem volt megírni a forgatókönyvet, nem volt kétséges számomra, hogy tisztelegni fogok a film előtt, ami elvezetett a műfajhoz, és ahhoz, hogy ezen a műfajon belül fogalmazzam meg a mondanivalómat.
PRAE.HU: A Cronos is a szörny emberi oldalát mutatja, ahogy azt a Vagyunk, akik vagyunk családja esetében is láthatjuk. Francisco, a te karaktered is szörnyeteg, mégis van egy érzelmes, bizonytalan oldala is. Milyen kihívások elé állított a szerep?
F.B.: Éppen erről van szó, a legfontosabb kihívás, amit Jorge már a legelején tisztázott velünk, az volt, hogy megpróbáljuk ezeket a személyiségeket egy valószerűségbe ágyazni, egy olyan valóságba, ami létezhet Mexikóvárosban. Hogy tényleg az legyen az érzésünk, amikor látjuk őket a vásznon, hogy akár köztünk is járhatnak. Mexikóban volt ilyenre példa, létezhet kannibalizmus egy nagyvárosban. Úgy gondolom, ez volt az elsődleges kihívás. Emberi lényekről beszéltünk, akik valamilyen kisebb törzshöz tartoznak, amikből nagyon sok van Mexikóban, és mindegyik más-más szokásokat gyakorol. Ez az egyik közülük, amelynek saját szokásai vannak, de ez csak egy a sok csoportosulás közül, akik Mexikóvárosban élnek. Nagyon fontos volt megformálni az emberi lényt, és ezután megmutatni a szörnyeteget, a kannibált, vagy bármi legyen is.
PRAE.HU: Jorge, a forgatókönyv megtörtént esetet dolgoz fel, vagy tisztán társadalmi parabola?
J.M.G.: Ez egy társadalmi parabola, egy allegória, az én értelmezésem arról, ami ma Mexikóban történik. Az az érzésed, hogy mindenki a maga bőrét menti. Hogy az embernek a saját érdekeit kell néznie, mivel nincsen egy szabályozó hatalom, és mert az utca hihetetlenül veszélyes. Vannak olyan államok, ahol az emberek nem mennek ki az utcára este hat után. Mert az utca már nem hozzánk tartozik, hanem a drogkereskedőkhöz. Ettől széthullik a társadalom, és én ezt az értékvesztést próbáltam meg megfogalmazni a filmben. Azt, hogy az emberek ma már nem ismerik egymást, hogy lehet, hogy a veled szemben élő szomszédod egy kannibál, és te nem is tudsz róla, észre sem veszed. Másrészt, hogy megalapozott legyen ez a valószerűség a filmben, amiről Paco beszélt, végeztem kutatásokat a városi kannibalizmusról, a rituális kannibalizmust vizsgáltam. Felkutattam azokat a gyilkosokat, akik végül megették az áldozatukat, és ebből merítettem, amikor kialakítottam a karakterek személyiségét. De a film alapvetően társadalmi parabola.
PRAE.HU: Tehát egyrészt a társadalmi mondanivaló, másrészt a műfajokkal való játék motivált, mert egy horrorról van szó, aminek drámai oldala is van.
J.M.G.: Igen, ez volt a nagy kockázat a filmben. A film a CCC (a mexikói filmiskola) elsőfilmes projektjéhez tartozik. Amikor a forgatókönyv más tervekkel versenyzett, az egyik vonzereje éppen ezeknek a műfajoknak a kockázatos keverése volt: Mi történne, ha egy olyan történetet mesélnék, ami az emberek szemében drámai, vagy melodrámai, mégis a horror műfaján belül tenném ezt? Felkeltette a figyelmüket, és ennek szerintem döntő szerepe volt abban, hogy a film megnyerte a versenyt, és lehetőséget kaptunk, hogy megcsináljuk. Lettek nagyon szerencsés dolgok a filmben, az egyik ez a hibrid, amit a színészek rendkívüli munkájával értünk el. Ez sokat segített, hogy a melodráma is megmaradjon, és a horror szerkezet is működjön.
PRAE.HU: Egy újabb párhuzam a Cronos és a Vagyunk, akik vagyunk között, hogy a Cronost is jobban fogadták külföldön.
N.C.: Úgy gondolom, hogy nehéz tükörbe nézni. Nálunk Mexikóban az erőszak nagyon aktuális téma és szerintem külföldön ez a film nagy meglepetéseket okozott. Egy olyan valóságot mutat, amibe beléphet az ember, átérezheti, és fokozatosan sikerülhet megérteni az üzenetet, amit szántunk neki, tehát, hogy beleilleszti a filmbéli családot a mai mexikói társadalomba. Úgy gondolom, a külföldieknek ez érdekes, mert a korrupcióról, a család védelméről szól, és beszél a Mexikóban lévő minivárosokról. Ezek rengeteg házból állnak, a szomszédok félnek egymástól, az autókat rácsok alatt tartják. Sokan úgy gondolhatják, hogy ez a valóság nem igaz, nem történhet meg. De sok eset példázza a kannibalizmust Mexikóban, és nagyon szokatlan szembenézni valamivel, ami ennyire durva, mégis igaz. Talán a te szomszédod nem kannibál, de emberrabló, és a mellette lévő házból tart fogva valakit. Szóval úgy gondolom, hogy a nemzetközi publikum számára a film egy más megközelítésből mutat meg egy olyan Mexikót, amit nem látott előtte.
PRAE.HU: Jorge, hogyan segítenél a film végkifejletének értelmezésében? Mit jelent Sabina (Paulina Gaitán) démoni nézése?
J.M.G.: Két dolgot szerettem volna elérni. A film célja az, hogy azonosulj a szörnnyel, mert amikor a túlélés szükségéről van szó, mindannyian szörnyetegek leszünk, mindünkkel megtörténik, hogy át kell taposnunk valakin, nehogy ő taposson ránk. Tehát a szereplők ellenségévé válsz, ugyanakkor kialakul valamilyen kötődésed is hozzájuk. Ezért tetszett az az érzés, hogy a néző örülhet annak, hogy Sabina túlélte, de ugyanezért érezze is magát veszélyben. Hogy cinkosa legyél a bestiának. Másrészt pedig a pesszimizmusom miatt mindig azt gondoltam, hogy a bestia és a gonosz sosem halnak meg. Tehát az is a szándékom volt, hogy azt mondjam a közönségnek: “Nem menekültél meg!”
PRAE.HU: A mai mexikói filmek nagy részében megjelenik az a motívum, hogy a hősnek el kell foglalnia azt az űrt, ami az idősek eltűnte után marad. Van ebben valami önreflexív?
J.M.G.: Mexikóban a családok két ok miatt is családfő nélkül maradnak. Az egyik a kivándorlás. Az Egyesült Államokba emigráló mexikóiak túlnyomó többsége férfi. Az ő családjuk így apakép nélkül marad. Ezért a családnak újra kell szerveződnie, újra kell osztani a családban betöltött szerepeket a túléléshez. És ma a másik fontos faktor, ami miatt a családok apa nélkül maradnak a drog. 40 000 halottról beszélünk, aminek legalább 80%-a férfi. Tehát apa nélküli családot nagyon gyakran látni az utcán. Ez is a kérdése a filmnek: Mi történik a családdal, ha elveszíti a vezetőjét? És itt nem csupán a család fejéről van szó, hanem a szellemi vezérről, aki a rítust elvégzi, és aki kötelezi a családot is annak gyakorlására, és ellátja őket élelemmel, biztonságot ad, stb. Mi történik a családdal? Igen, ez egy közös nevező a mexikói családok között.
PRAE.HU: Ez a helyzet rímelhet az éles törés után pályakezdő filmesek helyzetére is, nem?
J.M.G.: De, valóban, ez egy érdekes értelmezés, hogy mi is vezetők nélkül maradtunk.
PRAE.HU: Köszönöm, hogy elfogadtátok a részvételt, és sok sikert kívánok!
J.M.G.: Nagyon köszönjük, és köszönjük, hogy eljuttatják a munkánkat a magyar nézőkhöz, hogy megismerjenek egy kicsit abból, amik vagyunk.
A Vagyunk, akik vagyunk (Somos lo que hay) junius 21-én látható az ország mozijaiban a hangyaPASS#01 örödik filmjeként.
Bővebb információk a magyarhangya weboldalán és facebook oldalán olvashatóak - a hangyaPASS-ról, a filmekről, a vetítésekről...
Vagyunk, akik vagyunk (Somos lo que hay)
Színes, feliratos, mexikói horror, 90 perc, 2010.
Rendező: Jorge Michel Grau
Forgatókönyvíró: Jorge Michel Grau
Zeneszerző: Enrico Chapela
Operatőr: Santiago Sanchez
Vágó: Rodrigo Ríos
Szereplők: Francisco Barreiro (Alfredo), Paulina Gaitan (Sabina), Alan Chávez (Julian), Adrián Aguirre (Adriana), Miriam Balderas (Sheila), Carmen Beato (Patricia)
Bemutató: 2011. június 21. (a film csak ezen az egyetlen napon nyakoncsípető!)
Forgalmazza: Cinefil Co és a magyarhangya
Egy kicsi abból, amik vagyunk (videó verzió)
A hangyaPASS#01 ötödik filmje, a Vagyunk, akik vagyunk (Somos lo que hay) kapcsán Jorge Michel Grau rendezőt, Nicolás Celis producert és Francisco Barreiro színészt kerítette webkamera elé a magyarhangya segítségével Árva Márton. A mexikói új filmről, emberi drámákról és horrorba oltott társadalomrajzról beszélgettek. A folytatásban látató az interjú videó-verziója! Az írott változatért kattintsatok IDE!
22 de mayo de 2011
Pursuing Imperfection in Malick’s Eden
TERRENCE MALICK, the reclusive filmmaker who dislikes having his photograph taken and has not given an interview since the 1970s, could hardly be more out of place than amid the swarming media circus that is the Cannes Film Festival. But thanks to his scarcity of output, his sphinxlike reticence and the near-religious fervor of his fans, the elusive Mr. Malick also provides exactly what Cannes thrives on: mystique and anticipation.
His new film, “The Tree of Life” — which had been expected to show at last year’s festival and is only his fifth feature in 38 years — was finally unveiled on Monday to an eager press corps, before its United States release on May 27. “The Tree of Life” has big stars, celestial spectacles and a few digital dinosaurs, but it is no one’s idea of a summer blockbuster. Even more elliptical than Mr. Malick’s previous two films, “The Thin Red Line” (1998) and “The New World” (2005), the film tells the story of a 1950s Texas family (the parents are played by Brad Pitt and the relative newcomer Jessica Chastain) whose oldest son grows up to be a morose Sean Penn. But it also tackles, metaphysically speaking, the whole kit and caboodle: the origins of life and the history of the universe.
The intrigue surrounding “The Tree of Life” has much to do with the stories and rumors of its long gestation. Before he vanished off the filmmaking map in the late ’70s, after two well-received films, “Badlands” (1973) and “Days of Heaven” (1978), Mr. Malick, who turns 68 this year, had been developing a movie called “Q,” for which he reportedly dispatched cinematographers to far-flung corners of the world to capture an array of natural phenomena. (Emmanuel Lubezki, the cinematographer of “The Tree of Life,” confirmed that some images in the new film date from earlier periods of exploration.)
Mr. Malick’s films have returned to the mythic premise of a lost Eden, but while they have linked the metaphorical Fall with historical eras — the advent of the industrial age (“Days of Heaven”), the establishment of the American colonies (“The New World”) — “The Tree of Life” treats the loss of innocence as part of the eternal human condition. It’s safe to assume that this passion project is also, for its fiercely private auteur, a deeply personal film. Some aspects of the movie correspond with the morsels of biography that have surfaced over the years: the Texas childhood, a strict father, the death of a brother.
“I was shocked by how personal the story was when I first read it,” said the production designer Jack Fisk, who has worked on all of Mr. Malick’s films and has known him since they were students at the American Film Institute. “But when I watched the film I just think how universal it is.” A recurring refrain among Mr. Malick’s collaborators was the degree to which his scripts are mere starting points, extensively revised, even discarded, once shooting begins. Bill Pohlad, a producer of “The Tree of Life,” compared the film’s screenplay to poetry; Mr. Lubezki likened it to a Russian novel.
Since “The Tree of Life” is less bound to dialogue and plot than Mr. Malick’s previous films, Mr. Lubezki, who also shot “The New World,” said he was able to more fully embrace Mr. Malick’s preferred approach, avoiding traditional camera setups and instead emphasizing handheld mobility, natural light and the search for the unrepeatable moment. Because the interior spaces are not lighted, Mr. Fisk typically adds windows to houses or cuts holes into ceilings on Mr. Malick’s sets; on “The Tree of Life” Mr. Lubezki consulted paintings by Vermeer, in which shadowy rooms are illuminated by a window’s soft light. Three houses were used for the principal location; the production moved from one to another depending on the direction of the sun. “Terry’s not really a stickler for continuity,” Mr. Fisk said.
Despite his reputation as a perfectionist, Mr. Malick by all accounts strove for a documentary-style spontaneity on “The Tree of Life.” “It’s more found than planned,” Mr. Lubezki said. “Terry would say, don’t worry about getting a piece of dialogue or an interaction of the actors, but try to get the feeling of the first time being in a room with them.”
The mood on the set matched the subject of the film: a heightened alertness to the world. “When you’re shooting with Terry, everybody’s very aware of their surroundings,” Mr. Lubezki said. With their birdsong soundtracks and their signature images of nature and the elements — light through treetops, windblown grass, flowing water — Mr. Malick’s movies are both more concrete and more abstract than most. They pay close attention to the sensual materiality of flora and fauna, places and things (“Tree of Life” locations include the California redwood forest and the Utah salt flats), but they also seek “to put emotions on film,” Mr. Lubezki said, “which is something there’s no manual for.”
It can be hard for actors to find their place within the willful, perpetual flux of a Malick production — some members of the large ensemble of "The Thin Red Line" were unexpectedly sidelined, or even eliminated.
“Actually, he’s an imperfectionist,” Mr. Pitt said of Mr. Malick, speaking in an interview at the Carlton Hotel here. “He finds perfection in imperfection, and he’s always trying to create the imperfection.” He added that working with Mr. Malick was “liberating but exhausting,” a rare opportunity to fulfill what he called “this actor’s quest of always trying to be in the moment, which is a bit precious but very true.”
Mr. Malick often calls for his actors not to create a character so much as embody a concept or a feeling. Ms. Chastain said that her audition consisted mainly of “acting out behaviors, like putting a baby to sleep or looking at someone with love and respect.”
It also falls upon the cast to deliver Mr. Malick’s distinctive voice-overs. In “The Tree of Life,” as in “The Thin Red Line” and “The New World,” the hushed, dazed narration — handed off from one actor to another — has the tone of a prayer. From the start Mr. Malick has tried to find uses for voice-over that go against and beyond the traditional explanatory purpose. “When people express what is most important to them, it often comes out in clichés,” he said in a 1975 interview with Sight & Sound, referring to Sissy Spacek’s narration in “Badlands.” “That doesn’t make them laughable; it’s something tender about them.”
Enlarge This Image
Photofest
Brooke Adams in "Days of Heaven."
The Times at Cannes
Manohla Dargis, a chief film critic of The New York Times, and Melena Ryzik and Dennis Lim are reporting from the Cannes Film Festival.
Follow Ms. Ryzik on Twitter
Ask Ms. Dargis a Question
More Coverage on ArtsBeat
Related
ArtsBeat Blog: Another Malick Film So Soon? (May 16, 2011)
Ms. Chastain recalled that when she told Mr. Malick she wouldn’t have time to memorize the long monologues that he would present to her minutes before shooting, his response was that she should “just say whatever you remember because that’ll be enough.” But Mr. Malick’s insistence on freedom does not preclude obsessive fine-tuning: after the shoot, he called her in — by her count, more than 30 times — to record new lines and re-record old ones.
As Mr. Malick’s films grow increasingly allusive and amorphous, he seems more than ever to find them in the editing. “Our focus was to make it more of an experience and not about plot,” said Mark Yoshikawa, one of the five editors who worked on “The Tree of Life.” “The flow of the film was an ever-changing animal.” Without a linear story to guide them, the editors had to integrate live-action scenes that shift between two time periods (and more than one reality) with nature shots and special-effects sequences. Mr. Malick, an avid birdwatcher, had previously used computer-generated effects only once, to add a now-extinct parakeet to the Virginia wilds of “The New World.” “The Tree of Life,” which depicts the Big Bang, the beginning of precellular life and the Mesozoic age of dinosaurs, called for extensive effects work.
Dan Glass, the senior visual effects supervisor, said that the guiding principle was realism: “There’s not a shot that doesn’t have something natural or organic in it.” Even though entire movie worlds are now routinely digitized from scratch, Mr. Glass and his team worked with existing satellite and space-probe imagery and used optical tricks, like manipulating film speeds and camera lenses.
For the astrophysical sequences, Mr. Malick turned to the filmmaker and special effects veteran Douglas Trumbull, best known for his work on “2001: A Space Odyssey.” They set up a lab in Austin, Tex., where Mr. Malick lives, and essentially conducted chemistry experiments: photographing paints and liquids (like fluorescein dyes and half-and-half) in tanks of water at high speeds, which produced images that could be digitally composited to resemble astronomical phenomena like interstellar clouds. “With computer graphics everything is based on some algorithm and there’s often a predictability to it,” Mr. Trumbull said. “Terry and I wanted randomness and irregularity that seemed truly natural.”
“The Tree of Life” deepens and complicates Mr. Malick’s view of nature. Detractors make him out to be a moony New Ager, but his films are not just awestruck paeans to nature, nor are they simple assertions of man’s place in nature. “The Tree of Life” distinguishes the way of nature (equated with the father) from the way of grace (the mother). Ms. Chastain interpreted her character as a personification of “the spiritual world,” a contrast to the natural world, “which is all about survival of the fittest,” she said, and which, in the movie takes the form of Darwinian natural selection and American bootstrap capitalism.
Mr. Malick’s work has long been discussed in philosophical terms — his background as a Heidegger scholar is often invoked — but increasingly his films bespeak an unfashionably overt interest in spirituality. Biblical references run through the films, and “The Tree of Life” opens with a quotation from the Book of Job. But Ms. Chastain, who prepared for her role by studying paintings of the Madonna and practicing meditation, said she does not see it as a film about Christianity. “I consider him more of a spiritual person than a religious person,” Mr. Fisk said.
Mr. Pitt described Mr. Malick as someone with “a strong belief in God but also in science.” Watching “The Tree of Life” again at its Cannes premiere, he found himself leaning toward an agnostic interpretation. While we “try to comfort ourselves and pillow ourselves with religion,” he said, “maybe the real peace and beauty is to be found in the unknown.”
Mr. Malick has already shot — and is starting to edit — his sixth feature. Set in the present day, the still-untitled film stars Ben Affleck and Rachel McAdams, and has been described as a romance. As always, everyone is tight-lipped, but Mr. Lubezki and Mr. Fisk, who both worked on it, said it is his boldest film yet. “It makes ‘Tree’ almost seem old-fashioned,” Mr. Fisk said.
Growing more radical with age, Mr. Malick seems intent on evolving the language of narrative cinema, on finding a form free and flexible enough to encompass the big, unanswerable questions of human existence. “Every film now is almost a frustration, because Terry doesn’t know if he’s said enough,” Mr. Fisk said. “But I also think he’s finally making movies exactly the way he wants to.”
His new film, “The Tree of Life” — which had been expected to show at last year’s festival and is only his fifth feature in 38 years — was finally unveiled on Monday to an eager press corps, before its United States release on May 27. “The Tree of Life” has big stars, celestial spectacles and a few digital dinosaurs, but it is no one’s idea of a summer blockbuster. Even more elliptical than Mr. Malick’s previous two films, “The Thin Red Line” (1998) and “The New World” (2005), the film tells the story of a 1950s Texas family (the parents are played by Brad Pitt and the relative newcomer Jessica Chastain) whose oldest son grows up to be a morose Sean Penn. But it also tackles, metaphysically speaking, the whole kit and caboodle: the origins of life and the history of the universe.
The intrigue surrounding “The Tree of Life” has much to do with the stories and rumors of its long gestation. Before he vanished off the filmmaking map in the late ’70s, after two well-received films, “Badlands” (1973) and “Days of Heaven” (1978), Mr. Malick, who turns 68 this year, had been developing a movie called “Q,” for which he reportedly dispatched cinematographers to far-flung corners of the world to capture an array of natural phenomena. (Emmanuel Lubezki, the cinematographer of “The Tree of Life,” confirmed that some images in the new film date from earlier periods of exploration.)
Mr. Malick’s films have returned to the mythic premise of a lost Eden, but while they have linked the metaphorical Fall with historical eras — the advent of the industrial age (“Days of Heaven”), the establishment of the American colonies (“The New World”) — “The Tree of Life” treats the loss of innocence as part of the eternal human condition. It’s safe to assume that this passion project is also, for its fiercely private auteur, a deeply personal film. Some aspects of the movie correspond with the morsels of biography that have surfaced over the years: the Texas childhood, a strict father, the death of a brother.
“I was shocked by how personal the story was when I first read it,” said the production designer Jack Fisk, who has worked on all of Mr. Malick’s films and has known him since they were students at the American Film Institute. “But when I watched the film I just think how universal it is.” A recurring refrain among Mr. Malick’s collaborators was the degree to which his scripts are mere starting points, extensively revised, even discarded, once shooting begins. Bill Pohlad, a producer of “The Tree of Life,” compared the film’s screenplay to poetry; Mr. Lubezki likened it to a Russian novel.
Since “The Tree of Life” is less bound to dialogue and plot than Mr. Malick’s previous films, Mr. Lubezki, who also shot “The New World,” said he was able to more fully embrace Mr. Malick’s preferred approach, avoiding traditional camera setups and instead emphasizing handheld mobility, natural light and the search for the unrepeatable moment. Because the interior spaces are not lighted, Mr. Fisk typically adds windows to houses or cuts holes into ceilings on Mr. Malick’s sets; on “The Tree of Life” Mr. Lubezki consulted paintings by Vermeer, in which shadowy rooms are illuminated by a window’s soft light. Three houses were used for the principal location; the production moved from one to another depending on the direction of the sun. “Terry’s not really a stickler for continuity,” Mr. Fisk said.
Despite his reputation as a perfectionist, Mr. Malick by all accounts strove for a documentary-style spontaneity on “The Tree of Life.” “It’s more found than planned,” Mr. Lubezki said. “Terry would say, don’t worry about getting a piece of dialogue or an interaction of the actors, but try to get the feeling of the first time being in a room with them.”
The mood on the set matched the subject of the film: a heightened alertness to the world. “When you’re shooting with Terry, everybody’s very aware of their surroundings,” Mr. Lubezki said. With their birdsong soundtracks and their signature images of nature and the elements — light through treetops, windblown grass, flowing water — Mr. Malick’s movies are both more concrete and more abstract than most. They pay close attention to the sensual materiality of flora and fauna, places and things (“Tree of Life” locations include the California redwood forest and the Utah salt flats), but they also seek “to put emotions on film,” Mr. Lubezki said, “which is something there’s no manual for.”
It can be hard for actors to find their place within the willful, perpetual flux of a Malick production — some members of the large ensemble of "The Thin Red Line" were unexpectedly sidelined, or even eliminated.
“Actually, he’s an imperfectionist,” Mr. Pitt said of Mr. Malick, speaking in an interview at the Carlton Hotel here. “He finds perfection in imperfection, and he’s always trying to create the imperfection.” He added that working with Mr. Malick was “liberating but exhausting,” a rare opportunity to fulfill what he called “this actor’s quest of always trying to be in the moment, which is a bit precious but very true.”
Mr. Malick often calls for his actors not to create a character so much as embody a concept or a feeling. Ms. Chastain said that her audition consisted mainly of “acting out behaviors, like putting a baby to sleep or looking at someone with love and respect.”
It also falls upon the cast to deliver Mr. Malick’s distinctive voice-overs. In “The Tree of Life,” as in “The Thin Red Line” and “The New World,” the hushed, dazed narration — handed off from one actor to another — has the tone of a prayer. From the start Mr. Malick has tried to find uses for voice-over that go against and beyond the traditional explanatory purpose. “When people express what is most important to them, it often comes out in clichés,” he said in a 1975 interview with Sight & Sound, referring to Sissy Spacek’s narration in “Badlands.” “That doesn’t make them laughable; it’s something tender about them.”
Enlarge This Image
Photofest
Brooke Adams in "Days of Heaven."
The Times at Cannes
Manohla Dargis, a chief film critic of The New York Times, and Melena Ryzik and Dennis Lim are reporting from the Cannes Film Festival.
Follow Ms. Ryzik on Twitter
Ask Ms. Dargis a Question
More Coverage on ArtsBeat
Related
ArtsBeat Blog: Another Malick Film So Soon? (May 16, 2011)
Ms. Chastain recalled that when she told Mr. Malick she wouldn’t have time to memorize the long monologues that he would present to her minutes before shooting, his response was that she should “just say whatever you remember because that’ll be enough.” But Mr. Malick’s insistence on freedom does not preclude obsessive fine-tuning: after the shoot, he called her in — by her count, more than 30 times — to record new lines and re-record old ones.
As Mr. Malick’s films grow increasingly allusive and amorphous, he seems more than ever to find them in the editing. “Our focus was to make it more of an experience and not about plot,” said Mark Yoshikawa, one of the five editors who worked on “The Tree of Life.” “The flow of the film was an ever-changing animal.” Without a linear story to guide them, the editors had to integrate live-action scenes that shift between two time periods (and more than one reality) with nature shots and special-effects sequences. Mr. Malick, an avid birdwatcher, had previously used computer-generated effects only once, to add a now-extinct parakeet to the Virginia wilds of “The New World.” “The Tree of Life,” which depicts the Big Bang, the beginning of precellular life and the Mesozoic age of dinosaurs, called for extensive effects work.
Dan Glass, the senior visual effects supervisor, said that the guiding principle was realism: “There’s not a shot that doesn’t have something natural or organic in it.” Even though entire movie worlds are now routinely digitized from scratch, Mr. Glass and his team worked with existing satellite and space-probe imagery and used optical tricks, like manipulating film speeds and camera lenses.
For the astrophysical sequences, Mr. Malick turned to the filmmaker and special effects veteran Douglas Trumbull, best known for his work on “2001: A Space Odyssey.” They set up a lab in Austin, Tex., where Mr. Malick lives, and essentially conducted chemistry experiments: photographing paints and liquids (like fluorescein dyes and half-and-half) in tanks of water at high speeds, which produced images that could be digitally composited to resemble astronomical phenomena like interstellar clouds. “With computer graphics everything is based on some algorithm and there’s often a predictability to it,” Mr. Trumbull said. “Terry and I wanted randomness and irregularity that seemed truly natural.”
“The Tree of Life” deepens and complicates Mr. Malick’s view of nature. Detractors make him out to be a moony New Ager, but his films are not just awestruck paeans to nature, nor are they simple assertions of man’s place in nature. “The Tree of Life” distinguishes the way of nature (equated with the father) from the way of grace (the mother). Ms. Chastain interpreted her character as a personification of “the spiritual world,” a contrast to the natural world, “which is all about survival of the fittest,” she said, and which, in the movie takes the form of Darwinian natural selection and American bootstrap capitalism.
Mr. Malick’s work has long been discussed in philosophical terms — his background as a Heidegger scholar is often invoked — but increasingly his films bespeak an unfashionably overt interest in spirituality. Biblical references run through the films, and “The Tree of Life” opens with a quotation from the Book of Job. But Ms. Chastain, who prepared for her role by studying paintings of the Madonna and practicing meditation, said she does not see it as a film about Christianity. “I consider him more of a spiritual person than a religious person,” Mr. Fisk said.
Mr. Pitt described Mr. Malick as someone with “a strong belief in God but also in science.” Watching “The Tree of Life” again at its Cannes premiere, he found himself leaning toward an agnostic interpretation. While we “try to comfort ourselves and pillow ourselves with religion,” he said, “maybe the real peace and beauty is to be found in the unknown.”
Mr. Malick has already shot — and is starting to edit — his sixth feature. Set in the present day, the still-untitled film stars Ben Affleck and Rachel McAdams, and has been described as a romance. As always, everyone is tight-lipped, but Mr. Lubezki and Mr. Fisk, who both worked on it, said it is his boldest film yet. “It makes ‘Tree’ almost seem old-fashioned,” Mr. Fisk said.
Growing more radical with age, Mr. Malick seems intent on evolving the language of narrative cinema, on finding a form free and flexible enough to encompass the big, unanswerable questions of human existence. “Every film now is almost a frustration, because Terry doesn’t know if he’s said enough,” Mr. Fisk said. “But I also think he’s finally making movies exactly the way he wants to.”
10 de mayo de 2011
8 de mayo de 2011
1 de mayo de 2011
18 de abril de 2011
Entrevista Jorge Michel Grau por Brandon Harris
In We Are What We Are, first time Mexican helmer Jorge Michel Grau creates a deeply unsettling portrait of contemporary Mexican urban life which steady grows into many things all at once: a sincere family drama, an earnest exploration of the moral implications of cannibalism and a ribald satire of the seemingly intractable political and economic corruption that is haunting present day Mexico. All moody nighttime vistas and grim, claustrophobic interiors, Grau’s film manages both social commentary and grisly, bone-chilling terror the old-fashioned way, but it still manages to have a depth of human feeling that isn’t the stock and trade of this type of genre fare.
A graduate of Mexico’s state-operated Centro de Capacitacion Cinematographica, Grau worked as a producer and production manager on Mexican features, documentaries and education programs for television before his directorial breakthrough. We Are What We Are bowed at last year Director’s Fortnight in Cannes before premiering stateside at last fall’s New York Film Festival. It opens domestically from IFC this friday.
“We Are What We Are” director Jorge Michel Grau
Filmmaker: Your film builds very gradually, with a sort of slow burn rhythm that is popular on the festival circuit, but still somewhat unusual for the horror genre. How would you describe your approach to and inspirations from the universe of horror films?
Grau: I grew up watching horror films. What I wanted to deal with in this film was the disintegration of a family within a framework borrowed from the horror genres, but actually this is the experience of living in Mexico City. You can be living inside your home and outside of you; you’re surrounded by a situation that’s pretty much like that of a horror film. There are quite a number of cinematic references within the film to the genre of horror films or a cinema of violence,because that’s what I’m interested in. One of the obvious references in the film is to Guillermo Del Toro’s first film Cronos. That’s my approach to horror films, that’s the why I choose to shoot the film the way I did.
Filmmaker: Your depiction of corruption on all levels and within seemingly every institution of Mexico City life is quite striking. From the family to the police to the streets, no one seems to be untouched by a sense of collapse, by a loss of civic mindedness and social integrity.
Grau: What I want to talk about by looking at the disintegration of the family structure is to also talk about how tribal structures have become a form of survival for people in Mexico. Whether you belong to the police force or a tribe of prostitutes or the tribe of the family, it’s sort of a necessary way to get by in Mexico City. In that same process, I wanted to observe how that same process leads to those same tribes preying on each other in order to make it, in order to survive.
Mexico is on the verge of an abyss. Authority has eroded, we have this very brutal drug war, and people have a sense of the country drifting because of the violence and lack of control. That’s one thing people get out of the film, that there’s a social commentary aspect to it. You get the sense that the police force is preying upon the rest of society, but even within that tribe of the police force, the members are preying upon one another within it. That part of what I wanted to convey about what’s happening in Mexican society today.
Filmmaker: The film is at once a deadly serious film about cannibalism, which you play straight, never for easy laughs, and yet it has these wonderfully conceived parodic elements concerning the larger societal malaise in Mexico. Was that a hard balance to find in both the writing and the directing of the picture?
Grau: I wanted to underline the realism of the film so that when viewers would watch the film they’d say, “those are cannibals,” but also “this is a family trying to survive.” I wanted the story of cannibalism to be very serious and dramatic so that people would say, “Well, that’s the way it is.” That part of the story was so serious that I wanted to give it breathing space to the viewer by coming up with some of these comical situations, whether it’s the situation in the morgue or the relationship of the police officers. In Mexico we have a habit of making fun out of tragedy, so that at first people are suffering but then two weeks later there are 200 jokes about whatever tragic situation occurred. I devised in it a way so that the Mexican audience could identify; this sort of cultural identity of Mexicans would be reflected in the film. As the story is told, I wanted to them to encounter very serious situations and follow that with something that would make them laugh and then really hit them with something very strong so that they would suddenly feel a complete void following those drastic shifts.
Filmmaker: What’s the financing situation for a film like this? Are Mexican cannibalism movies a hard sale?
Grau: This film was made thanks to a program in the film school that helps first-time filmmakers make a film. There’s a prize of $700,000. I decided to participate in the contest because I was sure no one else would give me the money to make this film. The conditions for earning the prize was that neither the producer, director or cameraman would have previously worked on a feature film and the director of the film was not to earn any money, get a salary, get paid. That’s how this film was made. The film belongs the the film school.
Filmmaker: How did go about casting this family? They are both terrifying, monsters really, but also completely plausible as a struggling, working class Mexican family.
Grau: The only rule I set upon myself was to find actors who were about the age of the characters. The first actor I found was Francisco Barreiro, the protagonist of the film. I did some casting with Francisco present. I wasn’t so much interested in the look of the actors as I was the dynamic that was created by their interaction. Paulina Gaitan showed up for one of the castings and through Paulina I met the late Alan Chavez, who recently died after finishing the film. The three of them became very good friends. They had superb chemistry. That helped me enormously in working with them. Once I had the three kids, I went to look for an actress to play the mother and many actresses rejected the project, but I was lucky enough to find Carmen Beato and she fell in love with the project.
Once I had the actors, I sent them to morgues to see autopsies, to learn how instruments are used to break people’s bones. Then a week before shooting began, we locked ourselves away in room about the size of this one to generate that feeling of claustrophobia.
Filmmaker: Did you keep them there the whole week?
Grau: Yes, I was with them for an entire week.
Filmmaker: What did you do with them?
Grau: I wanted to generate a bond with them and among them, but I also wanted them to feel completely isolated from the rest of the world. By living together in a space where they had to eat together, go to the bathroom together, it can generate with the utter lack of privacy, a certain friction and hatred among them, so that then they could be able to live the experience of the characters, who love each other intensely but greatly desire to escape one another and remove themselves from the family structure.
Filmmaker: Was that difficult for them?
Grau: Yes is it was difficult for them. They got along very well at the beginning. That’s when they were only seeing each other at rehearsals. Once they started living together, tensions began to emerge. They realized that they didn’t actually like each other as much as they had originally thought. That’s what I wanted. To get that sense of hatred and dislike for each other out of each of them as the characters.
Filmmaker: What were the circumstances of Alan’s death?
Grau: He was killed by the police.
Filmmaker: Wow. That’s terrible.
Grau: [It happened] about two months after we completed shooting. His identity in real life was similar to that of the character in the film — he was abandoned by his mother, he had no father, he had no education beyond high school and had been living alone since age sixteen. He had been making money as an actor, but he was living out of control. He surrounded himself with people who were not good for his well being. He had this altercation with the police and was killed.
Filmmaker: Did he get a chance to see the film before he died?
Grau: He was an actor with enormous potential. In his short life he made nine movies and in that short time was twice nominated for Mexico’s equivalent to the Oscars. He was a revelation as an actor. I enjoyed enormously working with him. I sensed his potential, but I also sensed that his life was out of control. I tried to help him get his life together, I had the sense that his life was out of control and I wanted to put him to work on my next movie. I didn’t manage to help him in the end. He turned eighteen during production.
Filmmaker: Do you plan to revisit the horror genre?
Grau: Given the chance, I’d happy to make another horror film. Representation of violence fascinates me and the horror film is a site in which one can explore that.
A graduate of Mexico’s state-operated Centro de Capacitacion Cinematographica, Grau worked as a producer and production manager on Mexican features, documentaries and education programs for television before his directorial breakthrough. We Are What We Are bowed at last year Director’s Fortnight in Cannes before premiering stateside at last fall’s New York Film Festival. It opens domestically from IFC this friday.
“We Are What We Are” director Jorge Michel Grau
Filmmaker: Your film builds very gradually, with a sort of slow burn rhythm that is popular on the festival circuit, but still somewhat unusual for the horror genre. How would you describe your approach to and inspirations from the universe of horror films?
Grau: I grew up watching horror films. What I wanted to deal with in this film was the disintegration of a family within a framework borrowed from the horror genres, but actually this is the experience of living in Mexico City. You can be living inside your home and outside of you; you’re surrounded by a situation that’s pretty much like that of a horror film. There are quite a number of cinematic references within the film to the genre of horror films or a cinema of violence,because that’s what I’m interested in. One of the obvious references in the film is to Guillermo Del Toro’s first film Cronos. That’s my approach to horror films, that’s the why I choose to shoot the film the way I did.
Filmmaker: Your depiction of corruption on all levels and within seemingly every institution of Mexico City life is quite striking. From the family to the police to the streets, no one seems to be untouched by a sense of collapse, by a loss of civic mindedness and social integrity.
Grau: What I want to talk about by looking at the disintegration of the family structure is to also talk about how tribal structures have become a form of survival for people in Mexico. Whether you belong to the police force or a tribe of prostitutes or the tribe of the family, it’s sort of a necessary way to get by in Mexico City. In that same process, I wanted to observe how that same process leads to those same tribes preying on each other in order to make it, in order to survive.
Mexico is on the verge of an abyss. Authority has eroded, we have this very brutal drug war, and people have a sense of the country drifting because of the violence and lack of control. That’s one thing people get out of the film, that there’s a social commentary aspect to it. You get the sense that the police force is preying upon the rest of society, but even within that tribe of the police force, the members are preying upon one another within it. That part of what I wanted to convey about what’s happening in Mexican society today.
Filmmaker: The film is at once a deadly serious film about cannibalism, which you play straight, never for easy laughs, and yet it has these wonderfully conceived parodic elements concerning the larger societal malaise in Mexico. Was that a hard balance to find in both the writing and the directing of the picture?
Grau: I wanted to underline the realism of the film so that when viewers would watch the film they’d say, “those are cannibals,” but also “this is a family trying to survive.” I wanted the story of cannibalism to be very serious and dramatic so that people would say, “Well, that’s the way it is.” That part of the story was so serious that I wanted to give it breathing space to the viewer by coming up with some of these comical situations, whether it’s the situation in the morgue or the relationship of the police officers. In Mexico we have a habit of making fun out of tragedy, so that at first people are suffering but then two weeks later there are 200 jokes about whatever tragic situation occurred. I devised in it a way so that the Mexican audience could identify; this sort of cultural identity of Mexicans would be reflected in the film. As the story is told, I wanted to them to encounter very serious situations and follow that with something that would make them laugh and then really hit them with something very strong so that they would suddenly feel a complete void following those drastic shifts.
Filmmaker: What’s the financing situation for a film like this? Are Mexican cannibalism movies a hard sale?
Grau: This film was made thanks to a program in the film school that helps first-time filmmakers make a film. There’s a prize of $700,000. I decided to participate in the contest because I was sure no one else would give me the money to make this film. The conditions for earning the prize was that neither the producer, director or cameraman would have previously worked on a feature film and the director of the film was not to earn any money, get a salary, get paid. That’s how this film was made. The film belongs the the film school.
Filmmaker: How did go about casting this family? They are both terrifying, monsters really, but also completely plausible as a struggling, working class Mexican family.
Grau: The only rule I set upon myself was to find actors who were about the age of the characters. The first actor I found was Francisco Barreiro, the protagonist of the film. I did some casting with Francisco present. I wasn’t so much interested in the look of the actors as I was the dynamic that was created by their interaction. Paulina Gaitan showed up for one of the castings and through Paulina I met the late Alan Chavez, who recently died after finishing the film. The three of them became very good friends. They had superb chemistry. That helped me enormously in working with them. Once I had the three kids, I went to look for an actress to play the mother and many actresses rejected the project, but I was lucky enough to find Carmen Beato and she fell in love with the project.
Once I had the actors, I sent them to morgues to see autopsies, to learn how instruments are used to break people’s bones. Then a week before shooting began, we locked ourselves away in room about the size of this one to generate that feeling of claustrophobia.
Filmmaker: Did you keep them there the whole week?
Grau: Yes, I was with them for an entire week.
Filmmaker: What did you do with them?
Grau: I wanted to generate a bond with them and among them, but I also wanted them to feel completely isolated from the rest of the world. By living together in a space where they had to eat together, go to the bathroom together, it can generate with the utter lack of privacy, a certain friction and hatred among them, so that then they could be able to live the experience of the characters, who love each other intensely but greatly desire to escape one another and remove themselves from the family structure.
Filmmaker: Was that difficult for them?
Grau: Yes is it was difficult for them. They got along very well at the beginning. That’s when they were only seeing each other at rehearsals. Once they started living together, tensions began to emerge. They realized that they didn’t actually like each other as much as they had originally thought. That’s what I wanted. To get that sense of hatred and dislike for each other out of each of them as the characters.
Filmmaker: What were the circumstances of Alan’s death?
Grau: He was killed by the police.
Filmmaker: Wow. That’s terrible.
Grau: [It happened] about two months after we completed shooting. His identity in real life was similar to that of the character in the film — he was abandoned by his mother, he had no father, he had no education beyond high school and had been living alone since age sixteen. He had been making money as an actor, but he was living out of control. He surrounded himself with people who were not good for his well being. He had this altercation with the police and was killed.
Filmmaker: Did he get a chance to see the film before he died?
Grau: He was an actor with enormous potential. In his short life he made nine movies and in that short time was twice nominated for Mexico’s equivalent to the Oscars. He was a revelation as an actor. I enjoyed enormously working with him. I sensed his potential, but I also sensed that his life was out of control. I tried to help him get his life together, I had the sense that his life was out of control and I wanted to put him to work on my next movie. I didn’t manage to help him in the end. He turned eighteen during production.
Filmmaker: Do you plan to revisit the horror genre?
Grau: Given the chance, I’d happy to make another horror film. Representation of violence fascinates me and the horror film is a site in which one can explore that.
15 de abril de 2011
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)