Reviews

Of all Faust stories this film is the beautiful one: no demonetization of either devil or human. Every one in film are very human in their needs and their deeds. Devil gives the youth to Faust, not to have his earlier youth but any youth with which Faust can live his unlived life. Devil here is the defender of man, the one heavenly body that knows what it is to be old, near dying, weak and soft in head. Devil has pity of man that God never had, God only had plans. This message is deliberating and gives beauty to life, any life, but certainly to that new youth Faust has in this story. He really sees why his life went unlived and he knows - thanks to Devil himself - how to live it now. Gerard Philipe is great and convincing in the role of Faust: one believes that that youthful charm, energy and elan is intellectual, too. He might have been a Nietzsche of his days, in Medieval Time, full of attitude and vital in intellect! A great movie, real antidote to those German versions of Faust where Faust is just a bad dream of commerce.

Marco Ferreri never left any stone unturned: here he whips new ways to colonize African countries. Europeans may not plunder African countries like a gang of robbers, anymore, but the development aid given to underdeveloped countries may be understood by them as a recent form of colonialism and patriarchal-ism. Ferreri shows the heavy technological infrastructure needed when food or other aid are shipped, conveyed and stored for those in need. The aggressive knowledge, the power and sudden attack on unknown deserts are the ways European know. They are not asking whether Africans need all that modern stuff they are getting from Europe. And so, when something goes wrong, technology fails and fantasy is too limited to pick up the reality, anything can happen! The film is like a huge journey uphill where everything will change, new rules are applied and "good" has an unexpected meaning. This film really makes one ask how we should help those in need; or should we at all?

This is Cavani's most influential film. No one interested in Nietzsche or Salomé can leave this film without notice! The interpretation of some of Nietzsche's main ideas are well articulated and visually made comprehensible so that they both win in depth and become even more enticing. Cavani uses Mozart's music in a way that makes your spine tinkle. Spiritism, Mozart and a life just petered out make together a scene that is overwhelming in meanings. Most of the philosophical points are given in visual argumentation; that makes the film a real treasure box for anyone interested in visual thinking and its art. In this film Cavani has also developed a cinematic language she nowhere else applies. She uses pictorial mementos known to most of us and plays a semiotic game that makes quite common scenes to grow ambiguous, even breathtaking. The film is really not to be recommended to anyone, since without basic knowledge in Nietzsche and Belle Epoque one can't enjoy the story. But for those who are even cursorily familiar with the scene the film will be a revelation.

Vallois made a film which is not easy to watch and one never forgets it, since this film speaks out things normally silenced. Love between persons of different sex is theme in many war time movies where border line separates the lovers and the rest is sentimental crap. But here we have two men who should hate each other, as men should, even if they are not enemies. They are, however, in a secluded hut, mid-forest, also metaphorically: they don't know anything about each other than what they see. No common language. But in their flesh they begin to know each other, little by little: they are men, they have the same urges and because of the war times they don't have to play social plays. They don't need the illusion a civilized life requires; they joyfully agree in being straightforward in their physical needs. Communication is all but easy but they show us art and practice we don't know anymore, not in everyday life. They attack each other directly in flesh, both in sensitive way and aggressively, ending up making love or running away from each other. Vallois' film is like a well structured reality document where one looks the world that should be there somewhere but one knows that any peace and civilized state of mind make a life like that impossible. Men simply can't love each other without Mothers giving them rules for that.

Anna is married to her teacher, Professor. Their marriage is a mutual agreement with no great feelings. Marriage gives both a status they need; love must be found elsewhere. Roland is a young man, beautiful body, transparent skin, clear eyes, a keen mind for wisdom. He falls in love with Professor, a man older than Roland's father. Affection grows to be mutual. Roland is eager to give all he has to give, he even tries to be a part of the family. When he finds out that there is no family, his focus is Professor and his happiness. This elder man is also intellectually highly affected by the love Roland gives. They have beautiful conversations, the likes that we seldom hear in movies anymore (not even in books). They speak of virtue, honor, love, affection, and integrity, which are all the cornerstones of their relationship. But they don't speak of flesh. Professor nearly faints down when he sees Roland's bare breast since the beauty of youth has its own reasons and own power. He listens behind Roland's door as if to get a non-physical touch of that beauty. The story is really intense and when the separation of those two is evident, not only Roland is in tears; anyone who remembers will shed tears for his or her own dreams that did not come true.

Tibetan yogi Milarepa is one of the main teachers of Buddhism. His autobiography is filmed here parallel with a story of a youth of our days, both seeking answers to same questions. They have masters whose decisions they don't fully catch, and there are women whose roles are ambiguous. Master and disciple depend in each other, in fierce search for truth; only belief and honor count. Cavani made an extraordinary movie which has not lost any of its charm within years. It is a meditation of man's destiny and also a narrative of the parallel but non- tangential lives of man and woman. This film can be read as a visual philosophical tract and an homage to Milarepa. Aside of that, the film is very beautiful visually and the great actors fully contribute to the ideas of both Milarepa and Cavani.

Westeners think they are rational and good people. Immigrants learn quite soon what are the weak points in our culture and in us. We think we are coherent and clever but someone looking from outside easily solves the knot of coherence and cleverness. Andres Thiel's fine film gives us one night, one immigrant of second generation and three "clever" German people. And heat. Jan and Christine are naive, even stupid students who play the compulsory play of dating, separating and committing (whatever). Once again separated Jan bumps to a Turkish guy Tony who keeps Jan running after his whistle. He asks Jan for five minutes to tell him his story. This five minutes grows to a school of Western Morality and Hypocrisy. Jan presents every single belief we cherish but in context that shows them ridiculous. Both Jan and Christine are like kids whose reason is gravely underdeveloped. They "want" everything, they "desire" all, they "can't" something but they have no idea what life is all about. Tony, on the contrary, knows well: he has his agenda, no sentimentalism, nothing free. Westeners are make-believe people with book-learned ideas. But in real situation every one of us is like vermin, too: in case one has power over any other person, we use it even if it be an ax. The film is very wise, very embarrassing if one has any shame left, and has in Tony's role the most charming home-Turk of Hamburg, Faith Akin.

Faith Akin's best movie so far, better than Berlin-Winner Against the Wall. The story is really romantic: three guys with different ethnic roots are best friends and bestow meaning to each other's lives. They are very physical, they kiss and hug their friends and relatives, they live fast and they fight like primates. They have their dreams, their loves and most of all they are ridden by their idea of honor. This honor is very Mediterranean: it is flexible and spares one's ideals even if the deeds one must go through would ruin them. The guys love each other, fiercely, as if they were one person in three bodies. They also behave like one person: quarrels they have are presented as if being some inner wars of someone who is very sensitive and honest. This film, however, lacks all the syrupy sentimentalism we know from American equivalents. The guys are real flesh, their tears are salty and they don't feel sorry for themselves.

Francesco and Marta are an Italian pair. They fight constantly, are unfaithful to each other, and take the other as a rival. But they are a married couple like Pope wants it. Both yearn for a change. An aunt dies and leaves a fortune but it is in Turkey. Francesco leaves for Istanbul. He finds a different kind of life, men who are more sensitive and able to listen each other, to share experiences, and eager to listen. He finds Mehmet, in years younger but humanly more mature. Mehmet's family and friends open Francesco's eyes to a world more friendly, more meaningful and full of tasks better scaled for a man. He also finds out that man and woman may live together but without family are doomed to be unhappy: they eat each other out. He falls in love with Mehmet. Marta follows to Istanbul and finds out the change. Her pride and her title to marriage are hurt but she also feels certain freedom. Francesco dies later and Marta understands her aunt's letters: as a free woman in Turkey she needs no men to be paired with. Men and women are citizens of same planet but their life are only parallel to each other, not together.

This films shows how political censorship enriches artists' imagination and visual language and the entire narrative needed in cinema. Perez was not able to say IT aloud and therefore he says it with beautiful metaphors. People in film have severe attacks of yawn, lustful fantasies and fainting. These are no signs of fatigue or desire but of things not having space enough to become true in a totalitarian society. There are words and ideas not being said aloud anymore: freedom, love; as also those which struck us like hammer on head: sex, hypocrisy, life-lies. People have their strategies to survive until the day someone says it aloud.