Kerala 2008 – Press Mentorship Program
Day 03
Vaibhav Vats: Cluttered Tale of Love and Dissent 
Manish Golder: Juju out of the Bush 
Rima Mathew: Castles Brought Back to Ground 
Rohini Kumar: The Musical Charm of "The Yellow House" 
Amathul Wardha: "Kini and Adams": The Wavering Promise of Friendship 
Sithara Vijayan: "Refugee": Life in a New Land 
Dileep M.M.: "Welcome to Sajjanpur": Shyam Benegal's Political Satire 
Swetha Antony: Cinema, the 'Glocal' Medium 
Ananya Dutta: All That Glitters Is Not Yellow 
Cluttered Tale of Love and Dissent
By Vaibhav Vats
After the Islamic Revolution, cinema in Iran has developed a subtle language of dissent. In the understated work of Abbas Kiarostami, Jafar Panahi and Majid Majidi, delicate narrative devices have been used to circumnavigate the dreaded censors of the Ministry of Islamic Guidance and Culture.
Hafez is a film in that tradition, but Abolfazl Jalili is unable to match the perceptive vision of his country's contemporary masters. Hafez follows the story of handsome Koran scholar Shamsadin (Mehdi Morady), who is elevated to the rank of hafez — given to the person who has memorized the Koran by heart. He is asked to teach the holy book's philosophy to Nabat (Kumiko Aso), the daughter of the Great Mufti. Caught taking an illicit peep at his beautiful pupil and accused of teaching her poetry, Shams al-Din is stripped of his title and condemned to 50 whips.
Hafez explores the inherent contradictions that constitute Iranian society — the perennial conflict between a liberal, glorious Persian heritage and the repressive mores of an Islamic theocracy. The clerical rank of hafez is named after the great 14th century metaphysical poet, who wrote ghazals and sonnets about melancholic love and amorous intrigues. Hafez absorbs these contradictions and reveals them in the clear light of day, and this predicament is amply illustrated when Shamadin is punished for teaching poetry.
However, the problem with Hafez, for a viewer not acquainted with Islamic theology and customs, is likely to be one of comprehension. Jalili does not supply us with any external tool of narration that might prove helpful, and this makes Hafez a less accessible film. Another major flaw is the inconsistent pace of the film, alternating between the slow, firm rhythm of an epic and the frenetic activity of a breakneck thriller. It becomes clear that Jalili, who also edited the film, could not achieve the level of detachment that is vital to the process of editing.
These are flaws that obstruct the possibilities of Hafez, despite a stellar performance by the lead actor Mehdi Morady, who has an uncanny resemblance to Orlando Bloom. Hafez introduces too many characters in the latter part of the film, combined with a loss of focus which diverts the narration from the central tale of star-crossed lovers. Hafez begins with great promise, but in its ambition to tell too many tales at once, it stutters and staggers by the time the finish line comes.
Vaibhav Vats
© FIPRESCI 2008
Juju out of the Bush
By Manish Golder
Balufu Bakupa-Kanyinda's Juju Factory makes an attempt at the exposition of oppression of the Congolese people and a gradual dissolution of their cultural heritage under Belgian colonization. The film treads into the complex questions of identities of a displaced population through conversations between the actors culminating in the protagonist locating his talisman — "Juju".
Kongo Congo is a Congolese writer living in Matongé district of Brussels. He is offered a book deal to pen an ethnic tourist guide for Matongé by the African publisher Joseph Desiré. In the process of writing the book, Kongo observes his fellow-Africans and weaves them into the narrative along with the subtext of the erstwhile colonization and the current Diaspora. He ultimately clashes with Desiré, whose psyche is typical of the colonized African. Through a series of unrelated moral and ethical conflicts, Kongo's story develops into a tale that encompasses Patrice Lumumba as the proverbial "Big Man" and the tale of the colonization of Congo by King Leopold.
Kongo's girlfriend Béatrice, a history student, is part of the cycle from which the author draws inspiration and ideas; as he does from his brother Niko and sister-in-law Muadi. Characters on the street and idiosyncrasies of people he meets, all find their way into his tale which digresses from being a simple guide-book. Kongo finds his "Juju" — African for a talisman, when faced with adversity. The multi-lingual writer storyteller with his empty book and oral tales serves as a metaphor for African literary culture, contrasting with Kongo's acceptance of the colonial medium.
The sensuous moments of the film are played out in proxy — through phrases read aloud by Kongo from his book. The latent sexuality of the text and the characters is embodied through Leonie's reading of a particularly erotic passage from Kongo's manuscript. The young African rappers on the cold streets balance the angst of the ageing writer with the new generation.
Dieudonné Kabongo plays Kongo Congo effectively and with aplomb, his rich baritone setting the tone of the narrative for the film. Desiré constantly serves as a foil for Kongo, with his devolved cultural identity — a caricature attuned to Franz Fanon's description in Black Skin, White Masks. Kongo's personal equations with Béatrice, Niko and Muadi injects the much needed humane touch as does his interaction with Desiré bring comic interludes. All on-screen conversations are suitably contextualized and backed by a minimalist but interesting score. The film has the intimate feel of a small production, stressing on indoor sequences. By refusing to be bogged down by the enormity of such complex socio-political issues as colonization and de-colonization, the director has crafted a surprisingly enjoyable and engaging film.
Manish Golder
© FIPRESCI 2008
Castles Brought Back to Ground
By Rima Mathew
The film Castle in the Air (Akasha Gopuram) is about a man who looks at the ends and not at the means. Samson Albert (Mohanlal) has spent his life in building up his career as an architect. His sole aim is to remain the master builder forever, and for that, he is ready to put his personal life at risk. His fear that the next generation would conquer his empire is driving him mad. But then an ebullient charming girl from "the next generation," Hyda (Nithya), who admires him since childhood, comes into his life. Inspired by Hyda, his life takes a new turn...
According to the director K.P. Kumaran, Castles in the Air is supposed to be a faithful adaptation of Henrik Ibsen's play The Master Builder. However, from the beginning to the end, the film suffers from a tinge of artificiality, especially in the dialogues, the performance of the actors and the décor. Even Mohanlal, usually a fine actor, is not convincing at all in his role as the master builder.
The adaptation to the screen of a popular and critically acclaimed drama induces high hopes in the audience, and it is unfortunate to say that the film does not come to the expectations. K.P. Kumaran's deliberate effort to avoid a naturalistic approach and to adopt instead a theatrical format, fails to convince the audience. The set design, especially the famous tower — the achievement of the master-builders career — looks too cheap to be up to the intentions.
Rima Mathew
© FIPRESCI 2008
The Musical Charm of "The Yellow House"
By Rohini Kumar
Music is always mesmerizing and it touches the mass audience despite their diversities. It is often the simple metaphoric lyrics or sometimes just the tune that works the trick and becomes the very soul of narration in a film.
To the audience who thronged Kairali Theatre (one of the venues for the IFFK screenings) on a Monday morning, the music director Saycal Salhi gave the lead into the fantastic movie The Yellow House (La maison jaune) through a piece of music played on oudh, a traditional Arabian musical instrument.
The film, directed by Amor Hakkar, opens with a wedding procession. But the merriments of this happy occasion are accompanied by a piece of tragic news which is about to shatter the happiness of a simple family. The only son of this family has met with an accident. This tragic news of the death of his son sets the father on a journey which is full of humane encounters, through which he discovers a world of kindness which is too magical. It is a world where grief is amply compensated by joy, and sorrow by music.
Already enticed into the movie with the charming piece of music, the audience at the end walked out of the theatre cheerfully humming the theme music. A gala conclusion to a wonderful fantasy movie. While coming out, I approached a viewer with the question, "What do you take away with you from this movie?" With a gentle chuckle he started with the song from the movie and walked away humming. The sense of the Arabic lyrics may have been lost, but the music was right there.
Rohini Kumar
© FIPRESCI 2008
"Kini and Adams": The Wavering Promise of Friendship
By Amathul Wardha
The human mind is full of desires. But their degree varies from individual to individual. These human desires motivate a person to live, but at the same time they pave the way for a person's total destruction. I think this is the central point of Idrissa Ouedraogo's maiden English-language film Kini and Adams (1997), which screened at IFFK 2008.
The film focuses on two friends, Kini (Vusi Kunene) and Adams (David Mohloki), who share the same dream of escaping from their village to the big city and take a journey for a better life. Their only mode of transport is an old, worn-out car.
It is a tragi-comedy, marked by satire and humour. On the surface, it delves into the human psyche. Desires for upliftment obliterate volatile low-class relationships. Power and money dominate the characters easily, as is made evident in the expressions of Kini when he gets the key to supervise the mine where they work. Incidentally, the car is a key symbol here. Both these irrepressible dreamers want to better their lives, but their dreams are demolished at the end.
The structure of the story is simple, but its implications are very complex. Human emotions are combined with political allegory and the universal theme of technology destroying relationships. The director's visual mastery is apparent throughout. Enchanting scenery is captured in wide shots, making the Zimbabwe village landscape vibrant. The medium long shot of Kini and Adams sitting on the roof of their car with the setting sun in between them conveys the beauty of the dusk.
The film raises the question: Do material things broaden one's mindset or not?
Amathul Wardha
© FIPRESCI 2008
"Refugee": Life in a New Land
By Sithara Vijayan
Refugee (Mülteci), directed by Reis Çelik, was screened at the IFFK 2008 in the competition section. The film deals with refugees from around the world and their experiences at the refugee camp in Germany where they are placed.
The film revolves around Sivan, who is forced to flee his homeland and find refuge in Germany. Sivan's father is a landlord, and his staunch stand against the administration and the guerrillas invites their wrath. When they begin to wager with Sivan's life, his father, with the help of an illegal network, sends him to Germany. In the new land he is subjected to an ordeal that changes his outlook and lifestyle forever.
Refugees are the true casualties of war. It has been a recurrent situation in the world for a long time, but little has been done to ease it. The confusion and the loneliness experienced by the refugees are conveyed through the fast superimposition of images in various sequences. Like all refugees, Shivan has no land, no culture and loses even his identity. They are seen as a threat and burden in the country which gives them refuge.
The film reflects on the plight of the refugees caught up in red-tapism and bureaucratic loops. Sivan represents myriad individuals who lead a life of exile; the reality depicted in the film is topical and relevant, its images conveying the core of the crisis of exile. The film seems to convey that there is no promised land for the refugees and sends forth an appeal for their acceptance and for freeing them from the casualties inflicted upon them.
Sithara Vijayan
© FIPRESCI 2008
"Welcome to Sajjanpur": Shyam Benegal's Political Satire
By Dileep M.M.
In Bollywood there is no shortage of comedies. From the hilarious romantic comedies of Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Basu Chatterjee to the slapstick comedies of Priyadarshan's southern remakes, our national-language cinema has been giving its audience many glorious moments for laughing. But it is a fact that only a handful of them have given us some food for our brain. It's rare for a film to use the clichéd characters and settings of Bollywood cinema wisely for satirical purposes. And it also needs simplicity and much dexterity. No one might think that a film by Shyam Benegal, who is associated with socially relevant movies, would venture into the comedy genre. But followers of the Shyam Benegal school of moviemaking will recall Charandas the Thier (Chandas Chor, 1975) and Market Place (Mandi, 1983), which he describes as a "black comedy". In effect, his new film, Welcome to Sajjanpur, is Benegal's return to the comedy genre. And it has some political overtones.
This Benegal film amalgamates hard realities (honour killings, political manipulations, branding or marginalizing the minorities, land acquisition for industrialization or Special Economic Zones, etc.) with a feel-good setup. Mahadev (Shreyas Talpade) is a wannabe novelist, among the more literate, educated residents of Sajjanpur, a village in North India. Not inclined towards jobs like running his family vegetable shop, Mahadev opts for a more interesting career choice: writing letters for the village-folk, most of whom are illiterate or who are unable to express their feelings in writing. Through this he comes across many life stories, ranging from the touching to the banal to the ridiculous. The political theme of the film is introduced when a typical "Sarpanch," or village head (Yashpal Sharma), who is supporting his wife to win the local election, threatens Mahadev into writing a letter that falsely implicates the opposition candidate with Pakistan's ISI.
A song sequence in the film contains clearly political visual elements, for the first time in a Benegal film. The Sarpanch's wife's party amalgamates the symbols of India's two national parties: a saffron-coloured flag and the palm of a waving hand. And the opposition party is linked visually to a billboard bedecked with a hammer and sickle, the inscription of India's Communist Party beneath it. Earlier in the film, there is also a sarcastic depiction of the villagers' concern about the lack of electricity and how the government is parading the hope that everything will be all right when nuclear energy comes. There is little doubt about Benegal's political inclinations. The film shows perfectly how the changes and attitudes of urban India reach to the nation's rural areas.
Shyam Benegal successfully manages to do justice to both aspects of the film: political satire and romantic comedy. The veteran filmmaker shows great dexterity in both the emotional and comic scenes, extracting great performances from the entire cast.
Dileep M.M.
© FIPRESCI 2008
Cinema, the 'Glocal' Medium
By Swetha Antony
For Thiruvanathapuram (Trivandrum), the city hosting IFFK, it is an occasion to recharge itself with glimpses of life from around the world. After thirteen years, the local has gone global! As a student I hear many anecdotes about the festival from my teachers and friends. This is my first time as a delegate, and I had a strange but rewarding encounter. It was while I was sipping a tea at the local fast-food joint, a 'thattukada' as we call it.
These 'thattukada' guys make a living appeasing the hunger and thirst of festival buffs. With enticing and mouth watering treats they succeed in distracting the attention of film fanatics. A guy at one of the joints near the main venue even has many offers at hand. He tried to strike a deal with our group of ten students. For a cash deposit of Rupees 500 he will see to it that we have the energy to survive the entire festival. A lucrative deal indeed.
We dismissed this as a joke, an easy way to earn fast bucks. But this guy did not stop there. While settling our accounts he asked me very nonchalantly if I have seen The Blackboard (Takhté siah, 2000) and not to miss it if I have not. Even though it was a gimmick it did give me a momentary shock. As far as we hard core movie buffs are concerned Samira Makhmalbaf is a household name. But coming from a guy like him was quite a shock. And that is Kerala for you!
This annual celebration of moving images is also an annual bonanza for him. Apart from money, the festival also brings him many other profits. These joints are venues to many a heated discussion on cinema and I think any film critic will have a few worthy lessons to learn from here. Cinema does transcend barriers, even though we may not notice many.
Swetha Antony
© FIPRESCI 2008
All That Glitters Is Not Yellow
By Ananya Dutta
The Yellow House (La maison jaune) is a cinematic illustration of the power of a simple story. It is a moving film about how a family reconciles with the loss of their only son.
The film starts on a tragic note with two middle-aged parents receiving the news of the death of their son, Belkhacem, a draftee in the country's military. The father, Mouloud Boulem, sets off on a long quest to reclaim the body, but must face several obstacles before he can retrieve and bury his son. The viewer would hope that this struggle and the performing of the final rites would bring solace to the family but the mother is inconsolable. Through various attempts to help the mother overcome her grief, the family is able to unite and come to terms with their loss.
The simple narrative is able to strike an emotional chord because of the striking use of irony. Director Amor Hakkar often juxtaposes a tragic instance with a celebration; for example the opening scene contrasts the news of Belkhacem's death with a marriage procession. In the most moving sequence of the film, we watch Belkhacem's taped message to his family, in which, as if speaking from the grave, he talks of coming home soon.
The simplicity of the narration is reflected in the filming as well. The film moves at a slow pace with a large number of scenes shot in single takes. Long takes of Mouloud Boulem driving his tractor through the dusty roads communicate the slow passage of time. The music, either free-voice or with the single accompaniment of a string instrument, makes an impact because of its simplicity. Evocative shots of the stunning landscape and the interplay of darkness and light are well executed.
The film also contrasts moments of intense action with those of pensive reflection. The day is meant for dealing with chores and responsibilities and the nights are reserved for remembrance and grief. Long shots and extreme long shots capture the physical action and family interactions while close-ups are used when the characters are mournful or contemplative.
Some of the performances let the film down. The hysterical breakdown of the mother upon hearing of her son's death is unconvincing and at times the father appears more fed up than heart-broken. There are times when comic interruptions break the flow of the film.
The film also vaguely hints at the callous attitude of the State. Here is a person who has died in the line of duty and yet the authorities treat the family treated shabbily. On another occasion, the mayor of the town is boasting about how electricity is supplied to the entire town, when this family's application for electricity is unattended. But the film's criticism is not explicit and the State is often redeemed by the acts of certain individuals such as a policeman who offers Mouloud a light to illuminate his drive in the night.
The story-line of The Yellow House is not daringly innovative; neither does it push the envelope in its treatment or by taking a rebellious political stand, but the film is still a worthwhile watch, if just to experience a simple narration of a moving story.
Ananya Dutta
© FIPRESCI 2008
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