The Cinephile Fix

Reevaluating Humanity in Kazuo Hara’s “Goodbye CP”

There is absolutely no way anyone can watch Kazuo Hara’s “Goodbye CP” without getting deeply affected by it. That said, it is not an easy film to watch by any means. “Goodbye CP” documents what it is like to live in Japan while suffering from cerebral palsy. People with cerebral palsy are often mistreated by the general public. Bystanders either look away or give them change, even when they’re not begging. Some do it because they feel sorry, others simply want to feel better about themselves.

At the beginning of this powerful work of art, we learn that many parents commit suicide when they find out that their children will be born with this condition. It causes permanent movement disorders due to brain damage detected at an early stage. But Hara doesn’t concern himself with the medical side of things, instead his film is more interested in showing viewers an intimate perspective of how they live their lives. We learn who they are, what they do and how they feel about various topics including sex, work, and marriage. Much like Werner Herzog’s “Land of Silence and Darkness”, Hara takes us to a world very few people have seen.

What I admire most about this type of filmmaking is that the filmmaker does precisely what everyone else shies away from. I think the majority of people rarely make contact with people with such extreme conditions, not because they don’t want to deal with them, but simply because they don’t know how to deal with them. So when a filmmaker like Kazuo Hara tackles a subject as specific as cerebral palsy, the whole world is forced to understand them. If there is one film that I think everyone should see, it is this one. “Goodbye CP” is gut-wrenching and in your face; it makes you ponder whether you’ve been living life selfishly. It forces you reevaluate your own humanity. It is a film that will change anyone who chooses to see it.

Film as a mosaic in “Dawson City: Frozen Time”

⁣We tell stories that are worth sharing every single day. We do it in the form of a conversation at a dinner table, through a joke, a riddle, or even through news reports. But the best stories are told through an artistic medium such as film, music, theater, or literature. Those who practice storytelling for a living are often on the lookout for a good story to tell, and I believe no one could have told the story in “Dawson City: Frozen Time” better than Bill Morrison. The only other filmmaker that comes to mind is Guy Maddin, another Canadian filmmaker who likes to tell stories by piecing together footage from old film reels.

In “Dawson City: Frozen Time”, this technique has a hauntingly beautiful effect, because traditional documentary re-enactment has been replaced with footage from long lost silent films. Seeing all this lost footage for the first time will entrance viewers with the awe and wonder of the movies. The music by Alex Somers (a member of “Sigur Rós”) compliments the visuals perfectly. I was reminded of the iconic kissing montage in Giuseppe Tornatore’s “Cinema Paradiso”. Andrei Tarkovsky once famously claimed, “Film is a mosaic made of time.” These words never rang more true.

“Dawson City: Frozen Time” links two storylines. The first covers the gold rush of 1896, and how an estimated 100,000 prospectors flocked to the northern city in search of gold. The other story is that of film itself. Cellulose nitrate was first used as a base for photographic film rolls. The problem is, nitrate made it highly flammable, and as a result, a lot of film theaters went up in flames all over the world. It is estimated over 75% of all silent films were lost in fires.

When this started to happen in Dawson City, which was located at the end of the distribution line for silent films, the townspeople panicked and buried the film reels in a swimming pool. Almost seven decades later, the unearthing of silent films has rewritten the city’s historic significance. Once known for its gold, today it is immortalized in artefacts, films and photographs. Like the buried gold and the lost films, “Dawson City: Frozen Time” is a treasure waiting to be discovered.

Identity Crisis in “A Brighter Summer Day”

“A Brighter Summer Day” is Edward Yang’s ambitious crime epic about Taiwanese street gangs in the 1960’s. Seeing this film reminded me of the first time I watched Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Godfather”, Sergio Leone’s “Once Upon a Time in America”, or Martin Scorsese’s “Goodfellas”. It is a mammoth work of art that deserves its place among the greats of the genre. “A Brighter Summer Day” swept me away into a world of juvenile delinquency and rock and roll. Politically charged and boasting with energy, Yang’s novelistic vision is something to behold.

The four-hour film revolves around a fourteen-year-old kid who falls in love with a troubled girl. The young girl used to date a feared gang member who has gone into hiding. When he makes a return to the village, things quickly escalate to violence and despair. In this true story about a crime that shook the nation,emotions run very high. Growing up and falling in love in the midst of a gang rivalry is too much to deal with for anyone. But this major work of Taiwanese cinema is so much more than a coming of age film about kids engaging in street fights. Beneath the surface, it’s about an entire nation in search for its identity.

Rejected by the Chinese regime, a huge wave of immigrantswere left in the dust fighting for their dignity. Having fled communist rule in mainland China, the grown-ups struggled to make ends meet amongst the native Taiwanese people. They spent their days looking for the next hustle and longed for the good old days when the economic situation was stable. However, their first-generation kids didn’t share this nostalgia for the homeland. The film argues that since they never felt like they belonged anywhere, the lost youth started forming gangs in order to claim territory they could call their own. Shakespearean in scope, “A Brighter Summer Day” will captivate you with its grittiness and dreamy lyricism. I can’t wait to revisit this time and place in the near future.

Reincarnation in “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives”

Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives” defies written description. The experience is more akin to that of music or painting in that it operates on a subconscious level. It communicates its complex concepts and abstractions through otherworldly sights and sounds. This is magical realism at its most spiritual; the characters inhabit a world that is just as ethereal as anything we’ve seen in a Hayao Miyazaki film.

When asked to describe his film, the director explained, “it’s about going back to the roots of things, what we have in our bodies, the primitive energy,”. But the film is not just about the past, it’s also about the future, and what happens to us after we pass away. Stricken with kidney failure, Uncle Boonme is convinced that his time has come. During his last days, we see him surrounded by his relatives, but he is soon visited by the ghosts and spirits of loved ones who have long passed away. On paper, this all sounds very frightening, but when these spirits made an appearance it had the opposite effect on me, their presence was soothing and comforting.

Weerasethakul’s vision is not for everyone. I’ve heard many people call it extremely slow, but I think a better description would be meditative. The film creates its own entrancing pace, and you just have to fall into it. There’s no use to linger on what any of it means, just let the film wash over you, and your patience will be rewarded. The film explores the transmigration of souls between human beings, animals, ghosts and mythical creatures. It left me with a heightened awareness of everything that we don’t know about the strange world we live in. “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives” is a gateway to another world; it exists in the space between life and death, between past and present, between reality and fantasy.

The Dark Side of Humanity in “Häxan”

Benjamin Christensen’s “Häxan” is a Danish film about witchcraft from the silent era. It features dramatized horror sequences that will send chills down your spine. The film is split into four parts. In the first segment, Christensen walks us through some disturbing diabolical artwork from the dark ages. Where does it all stem from? The film plainly states that “the belief in evil spirits, sorcery, and witchcraft is the result of naïve notions about the mystery of the universe.” But the real horror that the film presents has nothing to do with demonology. What man is capable of doing when clouded by superstition and strict religious beliefs is far more sinister than anything that witchcraft brings to the table.

In the second part, we are exposed to a series of vignettes demonstrating medieval practices, beliefs and superstitions. The purpose of this film’s first half is to put viewers in the mindset of someone who was brought up before the enlightenment age- a time when divinity ruled over reason, and people believed in all kinds of wicked superstitions. But the second half of this macabre masterpiece is when things get very interesting. First, we get a demonstration of a typical witch accusation. We then learn of the torture methods used against the accused by religious authorities of the time. The only way the torture would stop was if they confessed and gave up twenty names of other accomplices, and the rest, of course, is history.

The witch-hunt reached epidemic levels, and over eight million were burnt alive in one of mankind’s darkest chapters. But the film argues that modern times are just as horrific. Torturing people into confessions is still practiced to this day, only the church has been replaced by the law. The modern hysterical woman inhabits all the behavior traits of what people back then would consider the devil’s work, and the way we treat the insane today is just as upsetting. We may not burn them on stakes, but we surely give them hell in mental institutions. When I first heard of this magnificent film, I thought it would illustrate so called witches as “the evil ones”. Instead, the film portrayed perfectly normal human beings with everyday professions- priests and policemen- as the true villains. “Häxan” is the most fascinating horror documentary I’ve ever seen; a haunting document of a time when the practice of medicine was considered sorcery. This thesis film is a scholarly dissertation of one of the most horrific chapters in human history, and it hasn’t aged one bit.

OSCAR PREDICTIONS 2020

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The 92^nd Academy Awards are just around the corner, and it looks like it’s a tight race between Sam Menes’ “1917” and Bong Joon Ho’s “Parasite”. Since “Parasite” is a lock for Best International Film, I’m predicting “1917” will take home the big prize; it is exactly the kind of epic that the Academy likes to reward. In terms of acting, the only ones who will be giving any speeches that night are Joaquin Phoenix, Renee Zellweger, Brad Pitt, and Laura Dern. Check out the rest of my prediction below. (They reflect who I think will win, not who I think should win.)

Best Picture

Will Win: “1917”
Could Win: “Parasite”

Best Director

Will Win: Sam Mendes
Could Win: Bong Joon Ho

Best Actor

Will Win: Joaquin Phoenix
Could Win: No one; it’s a lock.

Best Actress

Will Win: Renee Zellweger
Could Win: No one; it’s a lock.

Best Actor in a Supporting Role

Will Win: Brad Pitt
Could Win: No one; it’s a lock.

Best Actress in a Supporting Role

Will Win: Laura Dern
Could Win: No one; it’s a lock.

Best Original Screenplay

Will Win: “Parasite”
Could Win: “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood”

Best Adapted Screenplay

Will Win: “Jojo Rabbit”
Could Win: “Little Women”

Best Animated Feature Film

Will Win: “Klaus”
Could Win: “Toy Story 4”

Best Cinematography

Will Win: “1917”
Could Win: No one; it’s a lock.

Best Costume Design

Will Win: “Little Women”
Could Win: “Jojo Rabbit”

Best Documentary

Will Win: “Honeyland”
Could Win: “American Factory”

Best Documentary Short

Will Win: “Learning to Skateboard in a War Zone”
Could Win: “In the Absence”

Best Editing

Will Win: “Parasite”
Could Win: “Ford v Ferrari”

Best International Feature Film

Will Win: “Parasite”
Could Win: No one; it’s a lock.

Best Makeup and Hairstyling

Will Win: “Bombshell”
Could Win: “Judy”

Best Original Score

Will Win: “Joker”
Could Win: “1917”

Best Original Song

Will Win: “I’m Gonna Love Me” (“Rocketman”)
Could Win: “Stand Up” (“Harriet”)

Best Production Design

Will Win: “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood”
Could Win: “Parasite”

Best Animated Short

Will Win: “Hair Love”
Could Win: “Kitbull”

Best Live Action Short

Will Win: “Nefta Football Club”
Could Win: “The Neighbors’ Window”

Best Sound Editing

Will Win: “Ford v Ferrari”
Could Win: “1917”

Best Sound Mixing

Will Win: “1917”
Could Win: “Ford v Ferrari”

Best Visual Effects

Will Win: “1917”
Could Win: “Avengers: Endgame”

The 10 Best Films of 2019

What a year for cinema! There was pretty much something for everyone. Robert Eggers, Ari Aster and Jordan Peele all made successful returns to the horror genre. Hollywood heavyweights, Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, and Sam Mendes reminded us why we hold them with such high regard. There were also plenty of independent as well as foreign films that took the world by storm. As is the case every year, I start my list with my favorite film of the year; the rest of the films are listed in no particular order. Without further ado, here are the ten best films of 2019.

Robert Eggers’ “The Lighthouse

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Robert Eggers’ “The Lighthouse” is a strange and bizarre Lovecraftian horror unlike anything you’ve seen before. The film plunges viewers into the depth of madness, but as you fall into the abyss of insanity, you’ll find yourself laughing hysterically at the brilliant comedic performances delivered by Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson. Set on a remote island in New England, “The Lighthouse” is loosely based on the Smalls Lighthouse tragedy in which two lighthouse keepers, both named Thomas, got stuck in a lighthouse during a storm.

The articulate writing is something to behold with language is so rich and rhythmic, it almost sounds Biblical. Dafoe delivers an almost Shakespearean monologue that is as memorable as the famous Indianapolis monologue delivered by another seaman, Quint in “Jaws”. Eggers has officially cemented himself as one of the most important filmmakers working today with his Kubrick-level attention to detail. Just like his directorial debut, “The VVitch”, this sophomore masterpiece is filled with period-accurate dialogue that is destined to be quoted for years to come. The film also looks as good as it sounds.

Aesthetically, “The Lighthouse” has an almost antique quality to it. Not only was it shot on 35mm black-and-white film stock, but Eggers insisted on shooting the film using vintage equipment from the 1930’s. The compositions are so vivid, you can almost taste the sea-salt and smell the stench of booze in the air. Robert Eggers’ “The Lighthouse” is a sea yarn full of sailor superstitions; it could be the most haunting film about sea-lore ever made. Save it for a cold stormy night.

Noah Baumbach’s “Marriage Story”

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There’s a subtle yet incredibly hard-hitting moment midway through Noah Baumbach’s “Marriage Story” that sums up this beautiful picture perfectly. It’s the first legal meeting between both parties. Both of them are sitting at the table, their lawyers by their side, when a waiter comes to take orders. They all make their picks, but when it’s Charlie’s turn, he looks at the menu and shrugs with no idea what to order. Nicole then grabs the menu and orders for him: “Greek salad with lemon and olive oil instead of Greek dressing.” It’s an incredibly revealing moment. She knows him better than he knows himself, and despite everything they’ve been through, she still cares for him deeply.

Baumbach’s compassionate work is full of tender moments bursting with humanism and kindness. The observant writing illuminates a dynamic relationship between two complex yet sympathetic characters. “Marriage Story” could’ve easily been called “Divorce Story”, but the contradicting title suggests that marriage is a failed institution. The film follows in the footsteps of Robert Benton’s “Kramer vs. Kramer” and Ingmar Bergman’s “Scenes from a Marriage”- a once in a generation type of film.

Bong Joon-ho’s “Parasite”

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Bong Joon-ho is a master when it comes to genre-fusion. Just like his magnum opus, “Memories of Murder”, Joon-ho skillfully mixes humor with pathos in one of the most original motion pictures of the year. “Parasite” is a thrill ride from start to finish, but what makes it stands tall above other thrillers is its message. Like a centerpiece in the middle of a delicately furnished interior, you can’t miss the social commentary at the heart of it all. Families at both ends of the wealth spectrum intermingle in a class warfare that is equally entertaining as it is thought-provoking. Who exactly is the title referring to?

Quentin Tarantino’s “Once Upon A Time in Hollywood”

Tarantino’s love letter to the Golden Age of Hollywood is the funniest motion picture of the year. The film takes its time and forces us to surrender to its pace. Instead of going for a story-driven narrative, Tarantino makes us spend quality time with his main characters, Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his best friend and stunt double Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt). Their on-screen chemistry is the stuff of legend, a duo the likes of which we haven’t seen since Paul Newman teamed up with Robert Redford in “The Sting” and “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”. Who would’ve thought a film about the Manson murders would turn out to be the feel-good movie of the year? The ninth film from Quentin Tarantino is his best work this decade.

Martin Scorsese’s “The Irishman”

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Martin Scorsese brings forth a gangster film we haven’t seen before. “The Irishman” is a meditation on time and death. Scorsese doesn’t glamorize a gangster’s lifestyle by showing them indulge in excess. Instead, he draws our attention to the latter part of their lives, the part we rarely see on the big screen, when their time on Earth is nearing its end. We see them look back at their legacy with regret, numbness, and shame. We feel the loneliness of their last days, hours filled with melancholic reflection and hopelessness. In a lot of ways, this film is the antithesis to “Goodfellas”, a eulogy to the gangster genre the same way “Unforgiven” was a eulogy to the western genre. Martin Scorsese takes big risks and his approach remains as radical as ever. He is a master behind the camera; watching “The Irishman” was like watching a top Michelin chef put together a killer dish, only you get to consume it at the end.

Mati Diop’s “Atlantics”

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“What is a ghost? A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again? A moment of pain, perhaps. Something dead which still seems to be alive. An emotion suspended in time. Like a blurred photograph. Like an insect trapped in amber. A ghost. That’s what I am.” _Guillermo Del Toro

“Atlantics” is a ghost story that gets it right. Diop’s haunting tale about refugees disguises itself as a melancholic love story. The film revolves around a group of unpaid workers in Senegal who set off on a boat in hopes of reaching Spain. The main protagonist is a young girl who longs to be reunited with her lover. This tender mood-piece integrates elements of the supernatural into an otherwise realistic setting- the type of magical realism that reminded me of the literary work of Gabriel García Márquez. “Atlantics” is about the countless souls lost at sea, and the loved ones they left behind- it will cast a spell on you.

Ari Aster’s “Midsommar”

Aris Aster’s twisted cult-horror “Midsommar” took me completely by surprise. Instead of making you a spectator or a non-participant observer to the occurrences at the Midsommar festival, Aster uses psychotropic visuals to pull you in and make you part of the experience. We are not merely onlookers to strangers in distress, we are the strangers in distress. Aster utilizes the viewer’s natural curiosity to suck you into daylight horror. Instead of relying on things creeping in the shadows, Aster makes you fear what you can see in broad daylight, and believe me when I say, he isn’t afraid to expose you to the type of disturbing imagery that will stick with you for a very long time. Part fairytale, part break-up movie, Ari Aster’s twisted cult horror will surely stand the test of time.

The Safdie Brothers’ “Uncut Gems”

The Safdie Brothers came back with another adrenaline rush of a movie. Just like, “Heaven Knows What” and “Good Time”, “Uncut Gems” is another rollercoaster ride that goes straight through the underbelly of New York. This time around, the focus is on Howard Ratner, a high-stakes gambler in pursuit of a big win. Ratner is played by Adam Sandler who is firing on all cylinders in a career defining performance. Over the years, I watched the Safdie brothers deliver one anxiety inducing film after another, but this time, they definitely hit it big in Hollywood. With a filmography that feels like an ode to the gritty crime thrillers of the 70’s, each film is an improvement on the last. From this moment on, every Safdie Brothers picture will be an anticipated event, and I can’t wait to see what they have in store for us next.

Joanna Hogg’s “The Souvenir”

Probably the most underrated entry on this list, Hogg’s memoir film is a brutally honest portrayal of a young filmmaker in a toxic relationship with an intellectual wrestling with their own demons. But the film is really about the connection between life and art, and how to become an artist, you must draw from your own experiences. One character argues that if you don’t, your artistic expression would simply not ring true. The strongest aspect about Hogg’s fourth feature is its almost meta-narrative structure, an autobiographical film about an artist derailed and then strengthened by her own experiences. Tom Burke and Honor Swinton Byrne (Tilda Swinton’s daughter) deliver wonderfully nuanced performances in one of the year’s most devastating yet intellectually stimulating films.

Pedro Almodóvar’s “Pain and Glory”

“Pain and Glory” is Almodóvar’s most personal work to date- a moving look at an ageing artist coming to terms with his past while facing creative paralysis. Antonio Banderas shows depth and sensitivity in a beautifully textured performance as Salvador Mallo. Penelope Cruz delivers an understated yet effortless performance as the mother. But it’s Asier Etxeandia who absolutely steals the show as a habitual heroin user/actor who is desperate for a comeback. “Pain and Glory” is a soulful reflection on life and love, it simmers with tenderness, charm, and warmth. Almodóvar made a film about finding the will to create as you deal with the physical and emotional pains that come with ageing.

Honorable Mentions: “Monos”, “Portrait of a Lady on Fire”, “A Hidden Life”, “Ride Your Wave”, “Ad Astra”, “An Elephant Sitting Still”, “For Sama”, “Honeyland”, “1917”, “The Farewell”, “Just 6.5”, “The Nightingale”, “Making Waves: The Art of Cinematic Sound”, “Sea of Shadows”, “Sorry We Missed You”, “Ford v Ferrari”, “Togo”, “Waves”, “US”, “The Peanut Butter Falcon”

Film Analysis: “Landscape in the Mist”

In Theo Angelopoulos’ “Landscape in the Mist”, two kids run away from their home in Athens in search for their father whom they were told lives in Germany; but beneath the surface this film is about so much more. The journey they embark on is an allegory for life itself. We all travel through time in search of something that may not even be there.

Everything goes by so fast, the cities we visit, the strangers we meet, painful chapters and joyful occurrences- it all comes and goes in a flash. At one point, a traveler looks at the kids, smiles and utters words that ring so true for each and every one of us.

“You’re funny kids you know that? It’s as if you don’t care about time passing, yet I know that you are in a hurry to leave. It’s as if you’re going nowhere, and yet you’re going somewhere…Me? I’m a snail slithering away into nothingness. I don’t know where I’m going. Once I thought I knew.”

We’re all aware of time passing, yet we pretend that we have all the time in the world. In a way, we’re all clueless kids traveling in a chaotic odyssey through time. We think we know where we’re going, but we really don’t. We’re all searching for different things, yet ultimately, we’re looking for the same things, closure, wholeness, a sense of fulfillment. Everything seems like it’s within reach yet completely unattainable.

Will we ultimately reach our destination? Or will everything we long for forever remain a landscape in the mist? Theodoros Angelopoulos creates films with images so hauntingly beautiful, they will be seared into your brain. And “Landscape in the Mist” transcends the medium with poetic lyricism that is rarely matched by any work of art.

Angelopoulos sets up this quest for spiritual enlightenment with a delicate opening shot that is as poetic as any I’ve ever seen. The screen is completely dark. All we can hear is the gentle voice of Voula as she tells her five-year-old brother, Alexander, a tale she has told many times before.

“In the beginning, there was chaos and then there was light. And the light was separated from the darkness and the earth from the sea, and the rivers, the lakes, and the mountains were made. And then, the flowers and the trees, the animals, the birds.”

We then hear footsteps approaching, but we are still in complete darkness. The door opens slightly, and we see a beam of light creeping into the dark revealing the children pretending to be asleep in bed. It becomes clear to the viewer that Angelopoulos is illustrating her fairytale words with nothing but light and shadow. This is what cinema is all about, filmmakers bringing words to life by painting with light. Angelopoulos encapsulates the very essence of the entire medium of film within the first few moments of his masterpiece.

“Landscape in the Mist” is filled with many breathtaking episodes that work as standalone moments in time. But these anecdotes are also part of a beautiful whole. Just like life itself, we are always entering one moment as we are about to leave another. And each moment is as aesthetically rich as the one before. I found myself pausing the film at several moments just to soak in all the beauty before my eyes. It is so sad that everything that is beautiful eventually has to fade away to become a thing of the past. The reason we treasure moments of happiness is because we know they are not permanent, and they are in a kind of transition.

This sentiment is captured in a wonderful scene that comes shortly after one of the film’s more painful chapters. After a moment of great suffering, we bump into the only truly kind character in the film, Orestis. We see the two children riding on his motorbike, and as they are speeding towards the beach, he asks: “Are you scared?” To which Voula replies, “No! I don’t want it to ever end.” After witnessing this poor child go through hell, this brief moment of joy becomes all that matters in the world.

“Landscape in the Mist” is a work of art that comes from the feelings, the dreams, the sorrows, and the flashes of life that we experience every day. And it is all stitched together by the haunting melancholic score composed by the great Eleni Karaindrou. This contemplative film is layered, complex, challenging and rewarding. I find myself thinking about these children time and time again as I go through my own journey in life. It is filled with immense wisdom and unforgettable imagery. The last shot in in particular reaches a crescendo of beauty that is so operatic and poetic, once seen it will never be forgotten.

Shame in “The Act of Killing” and “The Look of Silence”

Joshua Oppenheimer exposes the atrocities of the Indonesian genocide in two of the most unique documentaries ever made. “The Act of Killing” is unquestionably the most innovative piece of documentary filmmaking to come out this decade. It re-invents the use of reenactment and takes filmmaking to unprecedented territory. The concept reminded me a lot of Hirokazu Koreeda’s “After Life”, a science-fiction film in which characters restage the best day of their lives in the afterlife. Only everything in “The Act of Killing” is as real as it gets and what is being restaged is far more sinister. Oppenheimer forces a boastful mass murderer, Anwar Congo, to reenact the murders he committed. But as the killer recreates his killings, we see the first signs of shame and guilt boiling to the surface. It is utterly fascinating to witness this subtle emergence of emotions onscreen.

Oppenheimer followed his bizarre masterpiece with “The Look of Silence”, a companion piece to “The Act of Killing”. Both films owe a lot to Kazuo Hara’s “The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On”, but “The Look of Silence” in particular, seems to be directly influenced by the Japanese film’s exploration of memory and war guilt. During the 1960’s Indonesian genocide, Ramli Rukun was one of millions accused of being a communist by the military dictatorship. He was taken to a nearby river where executioners repeatedly stabbed him, chopped off his genitals, and drank his blood before dumping his body in the water. Decades after this horrific ordeal, Adi Rukun interviews the group of men who killed his older brother. They brag about their war stories, but at the end of each interview, Rukun reveals his identity to the former killers. The camera captures the most extraordinarily reaction shot, the look of silence.

Film as a Reflection in “Through the Olive Trees”

The third film in the ambitious Koker trilogy is a delightful viewing experience filled with pleasant surprises and cameos at every corner. The entries in this multi-layered trilogy are short and sweet, but when consumed together, you get an explosion of flavours that only a master chef could put together. “Through the Olive Trees”, for example, is fairly simple as a stand-alone film, but when you attempt to analyze its place within the trilogy, you’ll find it to be incredibly complex.

This tale follows a romance unfolding in the midst of the making of “And Life Goes On”. It is a poem about love in the countryside and focuses on what went behind a single scene in the previous film. Hossein Rezai, who had an incredibly memorable scene in “And Life Goes On”, takes center stage as a stonemason in love with the girl he’s sharing the screen with.

I think the reason Kiarostami was interweaving fiction and reality was to present film as a reflection of life. You realise that there is nothing more precious, artistic and beautiful than life itself. “Through the Olive Tree” rounds up one of the most fulfilling trilogies in art-house history. It will be studied and cherished for years to come.