Nisimazine FRIDAY 13 MAY 2011
#1
Cannes
A Magazine by Nisi Masa, European Network Of Young CinemA
Hagar Ben Asher, director and main actress of The Slut (picture by Andris Feldmanis)
Israeli cinema Yorgos Tsourgiannis We Need to Talk about Kevin
NISIMAZINE CANNES
Friday 13 May 2011/# 1 A magazine published by the NISI MASA in the
with the support of the ‘Youth in Action’ programme of the EU
by Eva Kincsei (Hungary)
the Palais, images of FBI’s most wanted is not released. The picture is changing. The Croisette is getting its frenzy. Just like Deraa, Misrata, Benghazi, the Prefecture of Fukushima or the al Qaeda. Social unrest reigns, decades of repression are to be overthrown. History is evolving in the Middle East. The western world’s number one public enemy has just been annihilated – or hasn’t, Gaddafi’s son is allegedly dead, and the Syrian government cracks down on all who question the current state of affairs. Japan is struggling with an almost-Chernobyl while there may be a nuclear
bomb hidden somewhere in Europe. Quite a year! And we have not even reached half way. Cannes has resonated and invited Egypt to be its first guest country while hoping that this year’s heavy-weighters - like Almodovar, Malick, Lars Von Trier, the Dardennes and Kaurismaki - together with an unprecedented number of female directors in the main competition and an infantry of young talents armed with heavy artillery outside will explode big guns. Together with Nisimazine we’re rowing on uncharted waters. This year everything happens. ‘It’s a strange world, Sandy!’
EDITORIAL STAFF Director of Publication Matthieu Darras Editor-in-Chief/Layout Maartje Alders Editor Jude Lister Tutor Paolo Bertolin Contributors to this issue
Ľuboš Bišto, Bruno Carmelo Levente Czehelszki, Andris Feldmanis Eva Kincsei Anne-Sophie Meusberger, Maria Ulfsak Coordinators Jass Seljamaa, Merli Antsmaa Eva Ujlakyová, Jana Dandárová NISI MASA 99 rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis, 75010, Paris, France. Phone: +33 (0)9 60 39 63 38 in Cannes: +33 (0) 6 32 61 70 26 europe@nisimasa.com www.nisimasa.com
BY ANDRIS FELDMANIS (camera by Canon)
Prestigious film industry faces teem streets, tourists distracted by as whether to wear a Gucci or a D&G for the night. After the evening explosions, small arms are heard immediately, revenge for the dead son makes them flee to Europe. Cosy cafés and bars are all eager to embrace the razzmatazz for the next twelve days. Troops stationing on rooftops, mass arrests for those who would change the regime. Some Chanels are sauntering the Little Cross Drive and a red carpet is rolled out. Radiation level is a little higher than expected. Dolled-up girls are already pouting near
for young Europeans
,
Editorial
framework of a film journalism workshop
picture of the day
© TRANSFAX FILM PRODUCTION
film of the day
The Slut Hanotenet
Hagar Ben Asher (Israel) – Critics’ Week
By saying that “Tamar offers her body to many men of the village”, the synopsis does not explain the important fact that the protagonist is not a prostitute, having sex for money. This woman has regular multiple partners for her own pleasure, and – an extremely rare thing in the movies – she is never condemned or judged for it. She is a good mother and worker, with no particularly negative personality traits.
even though all the men are married, some of them with children. While other mothers and wives are conveniently hidden by the narrative inside their homes, our heroine is always working in open spaces, waiting in her yard, resting on the veranda. For her, there is no separation between private and public: her body and her sexual activities are not only accepted by the community, they are also an important source of its stability.
screenplay and by the characters, in a shocking, controversial conclusion which pushes the moral and the – already sumptuous – aesthetics to an even more unexpected level.
All men are aware of her “night visits”, none are jealous, and if someone comes to visit her and sees that another person is already in her bed, he’ll go away. This a silent and perfectly stable society in which Tamar is the only adult female visible in the whole story,
This is why the arrival of love and affection put the community’s structure at stake. No, Tamar does not fall in love (this is no tale of “redemption of promiscuity by love”), but one of the men does. The new monogamist relationship is cruelly punished by the
By Bruno Carmelo (Brazil)
Sleeping Beauty
Julia Leigh (Australia) - Official Competition
However, once we look back at it, maybe it couldn’t have been any different: this is one of those rare stories of free sexuality, in which love needs to adapt to sex, morals to pleasure, and not the other way around.
review
The premise of the film is undeniably intriguing - a young student named Lucy gets a job as a ‘sleeping beauty’ which entails being drugged, falling asleep and then being presented to rich elderly gentlemen, who ‘amuse’ themselves with this scenario of violently sharing a bed with a passive young naked beauty. Emily Browning is nearly perfect in the part of Lucy, her almost childlike looks, cold distanced manners and forced sexuality convey a disturbing but effective feeling of sensuality and eroticism. The super-stylishly executed cinematography and production design are breathtaking and at times it feels almost like viewing a commercial for a haute-couture brand – advertisements of Versace and Gucci for example very often also
© MAGIC FILMS PTY LTD
Sleeping Beauty by debutant director Julia Leigh, also the author of the novel the film is based on, delivers highly polished visuals and breathtaking set design, but never fully awakens from its apathy.
have the compulsory hint of similar decadence and vice. Unfortunately Sleeping Beauty suffers from superficiality (inherent to the hautecouture ads) as it is never quite able to really penetrate the highly polished surface, unlike Tom Ford’s A Single Man which managed to be both super-stylish and emphatic. Of course there can be different interpretations to the subject matter - it could be read as a feminist narrative about the male fantasy of
the passive female (taken to the extreme) or an exploration of female sexuality in the spirit of the works of Catherine Breillat or Jane Campion. But the in the end the film itself is so distanced and cool that the sensuality turns into dullness.
by Maria Ulfsak (Estonia)
Nanni Moretti’s Habemus Papam, screened today in the main competition, inspired us to look at the different representations of the Pope in Italian cinema.
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The Pope is as old as Christianity itself. Yet the fact that the names and faces change doesn’t answer the question “Who is he?“ The symbolism connected to electing a man into a position that is the closest to God is very clear: it is the idea standing behind him that turns a regular person into an extraordinary one. Papacy is an abstract idea, one of godlike proportions and powers. It resides and reigns over an independent State. All of these prerogatives give the Pope authority over millions of people around the world, despite the fact that they are denied any personal contact. If you are lucky, you get to see him framed by a window or inside the papamobile. Only so you can be sure he exists. This lack of humanity seems to be the central theme of Italian representations of the Pope on screen. Although Italian cinema views the pontiff, and through him the Church, from different perspectives. The papacy can be funny, as in Il Pap’occhio by Renzo Arbore, or faith can be treated as a very serious matter, as in Nanni Moretti’s La Messa è finita. But it is L’Udienza by
Marco Ferreri which tackles the issue of the absurdity and abstractness explicitly. The director shows us a common Italian man who is trying to get a personal audience with the Pope. It is the word ‘personal’ that is closely connected to the word ‘faith’, yet during the course of the film, the connection proves to be almost obsolete. This is not because the protagonist fails to have a personal acquaintance with God, but because God can only be found within himself. In the end, he dies. Just like the human inside the Pope dies after his election. Nanni Moretti’s Habemus Papam is different because it offers a personal experience not only of the symbolic Pope but also of the human one. The Italian director portrays a stressed old man who is unable to accept the responsibility that was assigned to him, and thus creates a man the viewer can relate to. Even if the Pope’s image as an ordinary old man is unconventional and has a negative connotation, it seems to be the most appealing one. Nanni Moretti is once again taking the faith personally. by Ľuboš Bišto (Slovakia)
from La Messa è finita (1985)
from Habemus Papam © FANDANGO
Habemus Papam?
in focus
Israel
Could happy ending ever be an option for an Israeli movie?
from top to bottom: Martha Must Fly, On My Doorstep, Footnote, Anthem
the national (Israeli), the ethnic (Jewish) and the political history of the country. Israel’s very special situation shows in the country’s cinematic output, and that is why Israeli movies struggle to develop a more universal meaning. The director hopes that the Israel-Palestine conflict will be solved through an agreement on their common historic ground.
The Israeli presence at this year’s Cannes Film Festival is quite strong. Joseph Cedar’s Footnote is in competition for the Palme d’Or, and Hagar Ben Asher’s The Slut will be screened at the Critics’ Week. Anat Costi’s On My Doorstep and Ma’ayan Rapp’s Martha Must Fly are both selected for the Cinefondation. Elad Keidan, a former winner of this student films competition with his lyrical short Anthem, is also returning to the French Riviera in the programme called L’Atelier, where he will try to raise funding for his project Of Our Economical Situation. This is indeed a big success for a country that produces no more than an average of 20 feature films per year. As the two films selected for the Cinefondation prove, this surge of new talents in Israeli cinema might find its roots in the quality of the educational institutions. The Sam Spiegel Film & Television School in Jerusalem, established in 1989 as the first Israeli school dedicated specifically to filmmaking, has the best track record in awards at festivals among all film schools in the country. Dana Shahar, director of International Relations, told us the school selects 25 new students every year and pursues a story-centred approach to filmmaking. The main goal is to adopt short
films as a legitimate film genre. Renen Schorr, director of the Sam Spiegel School, insisted during a speech in New York that they are supporting films not only relevant for the filmmaker, but for the audience as well. The school’s teachers are local film industry professionals, including Eran Kolirin, director of the local blockbuster The Band’s Visit which also won three awards at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival. The other most respected film institution in Israel is at the Tel Aviv University. Ma’ayan Rapp, the director of Martha Must Fly, thinks that the main difference between Tel Aviv University and the Sam Spiegel School is that the former is more like a regular university, with many more students and a stronger focus on theoretical studies. She believes it is easier to make films at the Sam Spiegel School – the proof is that, in order to make Martha Must Fly, she actually relied on her own family’s money. Ma’ayan Rapp and Elad Keidan agree that it takes a lot of time and patience to receive support from funds in Israel. Asked about the most common subjects in Israeli movies, Elad replied that the many conflicting points of view come from the complicated relationships between
Like the State itself, Israeli cinema is looking for possible ways to solve arising problems, but eventually politics and art seem to find completely opposite answers. As Eran Riklis’ Lemon Tree shows, the very same lot of land could be viewed as a terrorists’ hideout, or as a stronghold of ancestral traditions, according to the different points of view. Despite the obviously different interests, Israeli movies are not trying to use anyone as a scapegoat. Omri Givon’s Seven Minutes in Heaven is about the sensitive topic of terrorist bombings – yet the movie never tries to blame anyone, as its aim is clearly to find the way to a reasonable life after surviving a suicide bombing. Ajami (Cannes 2009) takes another step forward on the long path of mutual understanding, as it portrays a multiethnic district of Tel Aviv, where Palestinians, Jews and Christians are living together. Anti-military movies are quite common as well, even though the State’s well-organized army is often said to be the key of Israel’s survival in the region. Yaniv Berman’s The Alpha Diaries never fails to reveal the fears and vulnerability of a living and breathing people beneath the bulletproof military uniforms. Waltz with Bashir (Cannes 2008), probably one of the most important documentaries of our times, presents its content through animation, in order to find new ways of dealing with well-known topics. Israeli cinema admittedly encapsulates what national cinema is all about. A new generation has already emerged, thanks to the ever-growing number of awards received at film festivals. We now could only hope that in the near future these filmmakers will rise even higher, and find reasons to even include happy endings in their films. Maybe it will start with another victory, perhaps this year in Cannes. by Levente Czehelszki (Hungary)
We Need to Talk About Kevin... A novel // A film
Among the movies in competition this year, expectations are high for Lynne Ramsay’s We Need to Talk About Kevin. Ramsay’s two previous films Ratcatcher and Morvern Callar were both awarded in parallel sections in Cannes, but she hadn’t released a new feature film since the latter in 2002. In fact her previous project The Lovely Bones was taken over by Peter Jackson, and We Need to Talk About Kevin took much longer to make than originally planned. So there is now big curiosity about whether Lynne Ramsay, who is participating in the Official Selection for the first time, is going to follow in her own footsteps in terms of quality and style. Besides, We Need to Talk About Kevin is an adaptation of Lionel Shriver’s novel of the same title. Comparisons with Shriver’s bestselling book will be easy at hand.
© INDEPENDENT
We Need to Talk About Kevin, which won the Orange Prize for Fiction 2005, does not only deal with a complex, thought-provoking subject, but is also written in a specific style which influences the atmosphere of the book significantly. It is the story of Kevin, an American high school
boy, who kills seven schoolmates and two adults shortly before he becomes 16. Shriver tells this fictional story in retrospective, from the point of view of his mother Eva, who reflects upon her son’s upbringing and development by writing letters to her former husband Frank. This communication stays one-sided and unanswered and therefore is the only, highly subjective source of memory and perception the reader can rely on. Interrupted by episodes from the present and encounters with Kevin in prison, Eva narrates her impressions of him, from the time he was a baby until the day he became a murderer. Whereas her husband Frank supports and excuses Kevin in every imaginable way, Eva has a reserved, almost hostile relationship towards him right from the beginning. The events she remembers describe Kevin as an intelligent but inaccessible, indifferent child who easily conceals his increasing malignancy. Shriver’s book raises questions of responsibility and tries to figure out the reasons and circumstances of violence. Although Shriver refers to the context
of other school massacres, her approach is far from generalizing or giving explanations for this phenomenon. We Need to Talk About Kevin is the individual attempt of a mother to understand her own child. Shriver’s novel is not only courageous because it deals with this issue of violence through a deeply psychological, non-moralizing approach. Moreover, Eva’s narration brings up a taboo for discussion: the possibility of not loving your own child. What characterizes Shriver’s novel is the subjective, ambiguous point of view. As the story progresses, the reader gains insight into Eva’s psyche and realizes that she herself has not been a good mother. This stylistic device - retrospective, selective and subjective narration - accounts for the suspense-filled atmosphere of the book and culminates in a surprising ending. Altogether, the book leaves questions open. It outlines ambivalent feelings of parenthood and depicts a complexity and inconsistency of circumstances we have to keep in mind when talking about juvenile delinquents.
Lynne Ramsay’s We Need to Talk About Kevin keeps close to the original. Apart from small omissions and additional details, it follows the complicated structure of the book by continuously going back and forth in time. Tilda Swinton as Eva and Ezra Miller as Kevin are convincing in their acting. The meticulous adaptation is even successful in not giving away the surprising ending. Still, the achievement of Shriver’s book first and foremost comes from the sophisticated, ambivalent depiction of parenthood and relationships. The rapid change of scenes and time levels in Ramsay’s We Need to Talk About Kevin makes it difficult to understand the characters’ contradictory feelings and therefore does not discuss the topic of guilt and responsibility in the same complex way as the book does. by Anne-Sophie Meusberger (Austria)
Producer of Luton - Greece
Yorgos Tsourgiannis It’s an interesting time for the Greek film industry. We talked to Yorgos Tsourgiannis, producer of the Oscar-nominated Dogtooth, about the current situation. He is in Cannes this year promoting and developing Luton by Michalis Konstantatos in l’Atelier.
How has the period of extreme economic downturn affected the film funding in Greece? All public funding for film has actually been frozen. In 2010 there were no new approvals, or projects that were approved couldn’t go through because of the lack of funds. Likewise admissions in cinemas have dropped significantly, especially for the art-house films. There have been quite a few interesting Greek films doing very well at international festivals (Homelands, Dogtooth, Attenberg, Wasted Youth). Is it possible to say that the crisis has somehow led to a new, fresh wave or trend in Greek cinema? I am not convinced that the crisis is the reason that more films and better films are being made. I don’t feel that Greek society has felt the prolonged and profound effects of the crisis yet. The last year and a half has been very testing though. For example in Estonia it did not work this way - the tough situation did not help to create better art. What do you as a person who works in the film industry think about these theories “being through shit makes better art”?
There have been a few filmmakers in Greece who were for a couple of decades quite content producing a film with the subsidy money, taking it to the Greek section of the Thessaloniki film festival and then having it released on a screen or a few screens in Athens, with 2000 admissions or less, having a couple of friendly reviews written about it, and that was it. On to the next film. I think this is the sort of pathogen, among many other things that were not working, that we all tried to address with the Filmmakers of Greece movement (FOG) and the newly founded Hellenic Film Academy. There have been some younger filmmakers like Anastopoulos, Alexiou and Lanthimos, to name a few, whose films did an amazing run in festivals abroad. I guess at some point the filmmaking community realises collectively that it is possible to do films that travel. And this is when the standards rise and the competition factor in the sense that you seem to mention it comes in. Now if ‘being through shit makes better art’, it is arguable. Orson Welles seems to believe this is the case. I wouldn’t want to disagree with him. Now that you have a new film law in Greece and a lot of things
have changed, is the film industry optimistic about the future? Yes. Hesitant, but optimistic. At least I am. We are all waiting to see what will happen with the economy at large and the film funding specifically. There is a driving force behind films. That is the stories that need to be told and the people who are telling those stories. This is not correlated to circumstance and situation. It is irrelevant of platforms. There will always be a way to tell these stories, and there will always be people who tell them. Somehow. How has the success of Dogtooth changed your life professionally? Of course it has helped me immensely. I do find that it is easier to talk to people, and get them to listen and to meet people. The film industry is experiencing also a curiosity factor, with the surge of strong Greek films festivals presence this year. On the other hand, I’d expect that things would be easier back home. Certainly the law is a step in the right direction, but with the funding freeze, we have received a serious blow... In what stage is your project Luton,
which is introduced in The Atelier at Cannes this year? I’m developing Luton with Horsefly Productions, my production company. We have been developing it for more than a year and half, working on the project together with writer/director Michalis Konstantatos, taking it to a few markets and establishing contacts with potential partners. At the same time and despite the financial freeze, we have been looking for funds at home. We are set for shooting in September 2011. I am also developing the debut feature of Yiannis Veslemes together with ACE. by Maria Ulfsak (Estonia)