Nisimazine Karlovy Vary E-book 2014

July 4-12, 2014

Nisimazine KARLOVY VARY CZ

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Content

2 3 4-5 6-7 8-9 11 12 - 13 14 15

Index Editorial picture by Catherine Pouyeto Corrections Class Barbarians Barbarians interview For some Inexplicable Reason Bota Cherry Tobacco

16-17 18-19 20-21

Norway Norway Interview Kebab & Horoscope

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Delight Afterlife/Monument to Micheal Jackson /Down by the River Gente de Bien Tree

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30-31

In Focus

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EFP/Variety´s Critics Choice Quod erat demonstrandum Quod erat demonstrandum interview

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Grand Piano Blind Insecure Macondo Blind Dates Calvary Class Enemy /Catch me Daddy White Shadow

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Credits

42-43 46-47 48 - 49 50 51 52-53 54-55

Editorial All hail the power of the midnight screening!

Before explaining in detail the reason behind this initial burst, there are a few points which are imperative to clarify first.

Number 1, all the rumours claiming Karlovy Vary is one of the most vibrant and exciting alist festival are confirmed without a shadow of a doubt. Number 2, the organization is spotless, the press office impeccable and the staff actually knows what they are talking about (a bit of a rarity in this business). Number 3, the film program is packed with enough provocation and courage to please cynics and sceptics alike. And last but not least, Number 4, the kitsch film theatres and the gorgeous setting of this Czech Spa town provide the final magical atmosphere to what has perhaps been the best festival of the year so far.

All and all Karlovy Vary presents a pretty impressive package, but there is one very important fifth point missing on this list, which brings me back to that introductory rapture.

I don´t know exactly why but midnight screenings are increasingly scarce in A-list events.

Sure they are abundant in genre festivals, but on the big stages they seem to have been replaced for a clear division between night and day: first consume film then have fun talking about it.

Unfortunately organized fun is rarely...well...any fun at all.

This sort of programming paternalism makes me feel eerily safe. I myself have an irrational attraction to midnight screenings. Life tends to be most interesting at night, it´s a scientific fact.

You add to it a good film, a slightly tipsy audien-

ce inside a gorgeous looking film theatre and you can´t go wrong: magic happens. It is an art close to extinction and yet another sign that film as a collective experience is dying.

I rediscovered my love for late screenings in Karlovy Vary, a festival that exudes people power, or I should better say cinephile power. Despite its intensive program of activities, there is time and space to truly enjoy the experience of film in all its glory. Heated debates are frequently on the menu and few films go without a general communal analysis, just the way it is supposed to be.

Despite the massive crowds that fill in just about every single screening and the surrounding areas of the red carpet, Karlovy Vary feels intimate and most important, unpredictable.

Speaking of healthy unpredictability, that is exactly what you’ll find in the following pages.

For the third year on a row the Nisimazine army brought along a series of young writers and photographers from Portugal, Romania, Belgium, Poland and Lithuania to these dazzling Czech hills, to cover all the ins and outs of the East of the West section and have a close look at the European Film Promotion and Variety Critics’ Choice section. During the journey we found some true pearls of contemporary cinema, such as Marianne Tardieu´s insightful vision of French ghetto life in Insecure (page 48-49); Russian Ivan Tverdovsky´s nightmare in a disable school in Corrections Class (page 6-7); or the worrying signs of hooliganism in modern Serbia in Barbarians (page 8-9) by Ivan Ikic.

So you know what to do.

Enjoy!

by Fernando Vaquez (Portugal) 3

“This week, Karlovy Vary is the center of the world. It shows on the walls of the Thermal Hotel. It's official.

It's reassuring. This clock is a lifesaver because I've lost all sense of time. Is it night?

Or already day? I do not know anymore.

Anyway, I'm going to watch another movie.�

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review

Corrections Class Ivan I. Tverdovsky, Russia/Germany East of the West - Competition

Apparently it’s neither serial killers nor dangerous psychopaths who appear as the most treacherous creatures of the cinematic universe. If spending numerous hours in the darkness of film theatres has taught me anything it is that the teenagers can be much more cruel that all the Leatherfaces of this imaginative world.

Ivan Tverdovsky’s school drama gets off to a punching start – right in the first scene we are exposed to a corpse of a youngster who has just been run over by a train. Later in the movie we learn that it had to happen sooner or later since in the greyish setting of the Russian suburbs this is how boys impress girls, by lying flat between the railway tracks as a great mass of steel passes above them while they remain untouched. But it’s not just for the sake of showing off. Supposedly when their hearts are exploding with adrenaline they can see which of their wishes will come true. That precarious activity provides the audience with a key characteristic to have a full portrait of the teenagers in Corrections Class painted – it’s all about the idealistic ideas. And girls.

The film is a fit and recommendable choice for this year’s Karlovy Vary programme, alongside thematically similar Class Enemy and The Tribe. It’s almost a battle between the good and the evil in Tverdovsky’s movie.

We see a thematically black-and-white movie where the main protagonist is a doe-eyed no-make-up innocent. Mothers and female teachers on the other hand (no men though) are a bunch of witches who gasp at the thought that teenagers might have sex. No wonder, however, that the movie is told from a one-sided pers-

pective, since the director seems to match the subjective point of view of the youngsters he portrays. Thus the camera moves in fluid and fast shots, as if it was another teenager with restless and fidgety way of observing the world around. The sound is exaggerated to imitate the commotion youngsters tend to create wherever they appear.

As loud as the movie is, it is meant to be a sonorous voice in a debate about tolerance for disability that is currently taking place in Russia. The main character suffers from a condition that forces her to move on a wheelchair, but it’s the ignorance of society impersonated by the school staff and class peers that is incurable. What makes it even more striking is that although fictional, the story has a string of realism to it – the director admitted after the screening that he visited several Russian corrections classes before making the movie. Even though all students in these classes are disabled in one way or the other and went off with a similar start having their education neglected because of that, we can see how easy it is for them to take their frustrations on each other. The serious tone of the film, however, is broken by rare but desirable comical situations that make the audience guffaw as if they themselves were teenagers in the classroom. Nevertheless, the main message remains pessimistic, although it may comfort some viewers leaving them full of gratitude and relief that their school days are over.

by Ewa Wildner (Poland)

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review

Barbarians Ivan Icik, Serbia

East of the West - Competition

Barbarians is another well pointed addition to what some call The Yugoslav Black Wave, a movement that doesn’t shy away from harsh and agitating subjects.

With three films in different sections of the festival, Serbian cinema is well represented. Not that the film is evenly grim as Srdjan Spasojevic’s A Serbian Film, but the protagonist’s behaviour is definitely provoking. The title actually says it all, and it could easily be extended with a few synonyms such as Brutes, Beasts, and Vandals.

Our main character, Luka, is one of these hooligans. He cannot handle the forlorn condition of contemporary Serbian society, where value seems to be in pieces. He does not only belong to a lost generation but also belongs to a lost society. From the president of the small local football team to the rich owner of a bar, they are all part of a system that breeds toughness and macho like behaviour. Moreover, there is an unwillingness to give the people in the poor suburbs a real chance in life.

The Kosovars, the majority of the inhabitants living in the neighbourhoods, are simple just not important; if the herd of young football fans don’t cause anyone too much problems, nobody really cares about, they are almost non-existing.

You see that this fact weighs on Luca, he leaves his traces in the streets in the form of empty bottles of alcohol and infuriated people. He tries to avoid problems but his best friend Flash is not really helping him, pushing him towards hooliganism and jealousy.

Henceforth, the girl he fancies - and with whom he goes a bit further than flirting- is dating with the star of the football team. This obviously creates a tension

that has to burst out in one way or another. Yet, this is not the main issue of Luka. In the patriarchal style society that Serbia is still immersed in, the absence of his father really seems to leave him in fragments that neither his mother nor the social worker following him can glue back together.

All this despair that Luka has to carry with himself can be identified in the eyes of Zeljko Markovic, non-professional actor that stars in Barbarians, born and raised Kosovar and whose simultaneously firm, raw, and yet vulnerable presence in the film is impossible to go unnoticed. Director Ivan Ikic really found the perfect actor to approach such issues. Equally important is the fact that the filmmaker also deserves a lot of praise for the choice of giving a local gang of the suburbs of Belgrade a chance to put all their frustrations on film.

Using a sober way of filming in the industrial setting of Serbia’s messy wasteland, he follows his characters from behind. Despite the fact that such a restrained style is unquestionably effective, the narrative is not fully working at all levels, leaving us with a lot to ponder about but also longing for more emotional cues. Such a phenomenon misses out on creating a forceful tension.

Still, I am curious to see more from Ikic in the future because Barbarians is nuanced and shows a window to a world we don’t often see. And all this through the eyes of the young people who are often depicted in the news as just ‘the scum of the earth’.

by Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium)

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Interview with

Ivan Ikic

by Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium) Serbian director Ivan Ikic brought to light a series of worrying signs from the daily lives of Kosovar youth in his latest film Barbarians, a portrait of hooliganism, crime and social and ethnic prejudice in modern Serbia. We did not think twice when the chance came to sit down for a chat with the director of one of the most talked about films on display at this year´s edition of the Karlovy Vary Film Festival.

In the beginning of your career you made music videos and documentaries, how was the change to feature length filmmaking?

I started in the documentary world a long time ago but from the beginning I had the feeling that I wanted to make something different, something that had more structure. With feature you can put in more drama, suspense. If you want to do that with a documentary, mostly you have to push hard to change to real life of your characters. That is not what I wanted for this film. I had to be honest and I didn’t want to manipulate the story because it would make me feel bad in some way. Let’s put it this way, I wanted to do some Frankenstein between documentary and fiction. So, I wrote a simple story with ideas but I didn’t have the real characters. Then I found the characters and did a lot of rehearsals with improvisation and finally I rewrote the whole script to fit their characters.

You are clearly very concerned with the trauma that hangs over former Yugoslavia, is this still a subject that is touched too little?

It is the right time to discuss this topic. When you have discussing in the media it is always calculated, with some aim. Barbarians is a metaphor about how we feel about the whole European system of values. It is a frustration because young kids feel that the European Union or this European identity is not going change anything for them and they feel it. After the Yugoslavian wars we couldn’t consider our own values: free education, free health system, and a flat for ever working person. Nowadays if you’re a young person in Serbia you have to work sixty years to get your own flat if you don’ t get lucky. The situation is harder in every way, now it is normal we have to pay for education.

You could relate very good to your characters because of the fact you are also a Kosovar. Could you reflect on the situation of your people?

I’m from the ‘last’ suburb of Belgrade, where a lot of Kosovars live.

My parents immigrated to this area in the 50s. The Kosovars moved 10

for decades because the pressure was high, when I grow up in my suburb I also had that feeling of living in a lost land, like Jewish people.

The kids from the film are also refugees from Kosovo. Kosovo is still a taboo in Serbian society; they use Kosovo always as a manipulation tool when they need the voters for elections. But it’s not discussed in the right way; nobody discusses how the people of Kosovo now have to live in Serbia. In my neighborhood is a quite melancholic topic that not a lot of people want to discuss but we should talk about it more.

Did the non-professional whom you worked with also want to show their world? Or was there a lot of convincing involved?

It was actually easy to convince them. My mother first told me about a gang here, she told me all the people have problems with them and they are very dangerous. So, I said wow, find me those people because they are just kids. I actually know a guy who knows them and he called them for the casting and they all showed up one morning. Thirty guys, you know [laughs]. They were for the first in the cultural centre of my neighborhood. We talked to them all day, took their pictures, had conversations about their interests. It was nice for them, because nobody called them for anything because there are simply no jobs, no opportunities.

Zeljko Markovic, who plays the main character, radiates a strong presence in every shot he is in. How did you find him? How was it to work with him?

It is strange because Zeljko grew up 50 meters from my home in the neighborhood where we did the shoot and I grew up. I didn’t know him before the shoot because I’m ten years older and went to the film university. So I never knew him but he was literally living 50 meters from my home. He is actually not a typical young rebel. He looks nice, charismatic but still he knows how to be though in certain situations because that’s how it works. When we started casting and the improvisation and then shooting the first video with all of them; everybody in our office said that this guy was so interesting. Although he was silent and just looked around in these first tests, we all thought that he should be the main character. He was kind of an ‘emotional barbarian’, not the typical though looking guy. The melancholy in his eyes was just what we needed. At first he wasn’t that interested in the film but after a while he was completely into it, he was also connected with the topics in the film because his father also abounded him and he had the same issues with the social workers. He said that he could do it, play him, it was his territory. In the end, he found his place, it felt good for him.

Could you elaborate on the difficulties regarding shooting on a mixture of different locations? Did you have many problems during the shoot?

80% of it we shot in my neighborhood. It was an industrial town but after the Yugoslavian wars it was totally in ruin. Now it is just a little town with nothing really going on, no jobs for young people. I tried together with my cinematographer not to shoot the transitional look of town. Transitional for me is like one of greatest Ukraine photographers

said: transition is the plastic doors and windows. We wanted to shoot the places of the golden age of the town in the communist period, they look now devastated but we wanted to preserve that spirit of old days.

So we tried angles where the plastic doors and windows wouldn’t be in the image. That was difficult but it was very easy to choose locations because there is no prize to pay, the area is not commercialized. In Belgrade we shoot a couple of scenes and that was more complicated because we had an issue we the American Embassy, we couldn’t shoot in front of their building, they forbid it. After the shoot they actually build a new Embassy, an expensive building, but you can’t have everything. So we shot just across the street.

How do you prepare a big scene as the one in Belgrade with that crowd going wild?

It was very hard because we were at the end of our budget and so we had very limited resources to do this. But we did it with 150 good guys who were actually there when the real protest happened. So the guys were professionals at lighting up the American flag [laughs], they do that in real life. It saved us a lot of time.

There were a lot of scenes where we follow Luka walking. Was that a conscious decision?

Those shots where we follow the main character in the back when he is walking, I see as modern subjective shots. You see the world from his perspective. His strong presence, there is almost no scene without him.

I think this film language cames from video games. It comes from GTA, it is connected with young people, and they understand it very well.

When you follow the main character from the back, you are in his skin.

I like it because all the guys in the film play it and I play it too. It’s a perfect language for this film.

The film even reminded me a bit of a Dardenne film. Can you find yourself in that filmmaking style?

Oh, really. Are you kidding me? [laughs] I really love the Dardenne brothers; I never felt that anyone would see their style in my film. I don’t think I did achieve this here. They totally draw you in, they are stylistically more radical. Nonetheless, they had some influence on me but I would not compare my style to theirs.

How do you think people in Serbia will react? Did the actors already see the film?

Actors saw when we recorded the sound in the sound mixing studio.

But we tested the film and people really gave good feedback. But I dont’ even don’t know if it is going to reach a lot of people in Serbia because young guys don’t go to this kind of cinema, they go to American blockbusters. And if it comes on television we get very little money out of it. They want something commercial. We searched for a platform but the best way to reach this audience is maybe going to be on the pirate websites. It is just reality. If you put this on YouTube you’ll maybe get a millions views, in cinema we would sell 20.000 tickets.

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For Some Inexplicable Reason Gábor Reisz, Hungary

East of the West Section

Review and Interview by Raluca Petre (Romania) 12

We had the rare opportunity to catch up with three key crew members of the Hungarian For Some Inexplicable Reason, namely the director Gabor Reisz, producer Julia Berkes, and editor Zsofia Talas. The three young filmmakers, whose belief in the story carried them through the one and a half years it took to release it, reveal the process of making this film on a shoestring.

How did this project come about?

Gabor: This is mine and Zsofia’s graduation film.

We had just finishing university and we had some budget for a short film, but I really wanted to shoot my first feature and we started with a short movie budget. It was really important for me because ever since I applied to Film school I wanted to do that, because some of the best Hungarian directors graduated with features as well.

How did you stretch the budget of a short film into a feature?

Gabor: We didn’t really use artificial lighting lamps and the camera was a Canon C100. There

are many amateur actors in the film, but some are just my friends.

Julia: But Gabor always has crazy ideas, we had been working together for five short films when we started working on the feature. So when he said he wanted to do a feature, we sat down and figured that we’d have to find more money, but that we’d have to compromise as well. Because we didn’t rely on lights, we shot guerilla style in the city and the interiors. We used my parents’ home for interiors. It took us a year and a half to shoot. We shot periodically, in the winter, sometimes just one hour.

You said you were editing while you were shooting as well? How was that process?

Zsofia: It was about a year of editing. I started at the beginning of last summer and thought we’d finish everything by the end of the same summer. But then it just escalated… I never lost interest though, it was always very exciting. At first, we had a different idea about the order of the scenes, but as it went on, we changed a lot

review

For Some Inexplicable Reason (FSIR) is a surprisingly unique film. Surprisingly, because its synopsis may, at first, lead one to believe that Zach Braff has moved to Hungary.

Aron is an unemployed 29 year old whose girlfriend has just left him. He’s quirky, anxious and perpetually melancholic. We gauge his character through his voice-over, as he narrates his feelings and presents the other characters in his life. He buys a ticket to Lisbon in the spur of the moment, a trip that he imagines will change his life, except that it doesn’t.

This is s a coming of age film with a focus on growing down as opposed to growing up, much in the fashion of a male-centred Frances Ha; by the end of the film, Aron’s life hasn’t miraculously changed and he’s still struggling to figure things out.

What makes it unique is that Gabor Reisz’s film school graduation piece was made with young Hungarian audiences in mind. The jokes seem quite intimate and were effective with the hip Hungarian audience present at FSIR’s Karlovy Vary screening. It is as if Reisz has gathered quips from his circle of friends as well as typologies and put them on screen ironically.

things. It was easy to change the order, because the actor wears the same clothes throughout the movie.

Was your inspiration for the story quite personal? How did you go about writing it?

Gabor: Yes, it’s a really personal story. However, I don’t really identify with the main character, Aron, my classmate and the protagonist, came up with many ideas. At first, I only had ten pages.

We did a lot of improvisations with the actors.

Before the shooting day, I’d just write the scene we were going to shoot, so we didn’t have the whole script.

Are Aron’s experiences a reflection of what young generations experience in Hungary? What were you hoping that the film would communicate to these generations?

Julia: I think nowadays there is a common phenomenon that young Hungarian graduates want to leave the country. Every person has four or five friends who have left the country. It is also quite typical that young people still live with their

Indeed, it may even be somewhat unfair for me, as a non-Hungarian, to write a review on the film; while I did not laugh at many of the jokes, the Hungarian girls next to me were roaring with laughter. One simply needs to be aware of the cultural connotations of the dialogue- for example, the protagonist is a film studies graduate from a certain university and when a potential employer reads that out on his CV and looks unimpressed, many laughed. I could have only imagined that the university had a dubious reputation in Hungary and the girls next to me confirmed this after the screening. However, the spontaneity of the dialogue had been lost in translation.

The director’s friend, Aron Ferenczik, also a director in real life, plays the lead convincingly and consistenly, especially given that it took more than a year to shoot the film in episodic bursts.

Overall, FSIR is clean-cut, hip entertainment that promises Reisz much success among Hungarian audiences. Despite having been picked up by Parisian sales agents Alpha Violet, the film is unlikely to reach its full potential among international viewers.

family at 30 years old. There are lots of universities and many people graduate without having an idea. Gabor really wanted to show Budapest as it is, to show places that surround us.

Having recently graduated, do you feel like there’s a new movement coming up in Hungary?

Do people tend to work together for long periods of time?

Julia: People coming out of the university are helping each other out. About the industry, there’s a kind of new era since we have a new film fund and all the films that were shot with its backing are all coming out now, so we can’t tell what will happen. For Some Inexplicable Reason received some support from this fund as well. Last year there were ten big films being shot, whereas in 2010 there was just one. We are optimistic about this change.

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review

Bota

Iris Elezi & Thomas Logoreci, Albania - East of the West Section An Italian outsider, who stops by a remote community in Albania, comments that its people are “damaged yet alive.” In their charismatic Albanian-Italian-Kosovan coproduction, the Albanian-born Americaneducated directors Iris Elezi and Thomas Logoreci remind us how we, as viewers, come to love characters whose wounds open up their universes to us.

Bota (Albanian for “world”) is a restaurant plonked in the middle of a swampland, catering to a handful of decrepit Communist-era concrete blocks. Its quirkiness reflects that of those whose lives revolve around the restaurant, contrasting with the laden, inescapable presence of the grey buildings and their muted history.

What could have been an Emir Kusturica-style comedy about a region in the Balkans (and as much as I love Kusturica), Bota gains a tender and more contemplative tone by looking at the collective trauma of the past that impinges on the characters’ lives. The Communist regime had designed this forlorn community for its opponents and their families, killing off and burying its main dissidents there. The family that runs Bota had inevitably been amongst those persecuted, although twenty-something year old Juli, the youngest, knows nothing of it. Her remaining family, a sclerotic grandmother and her older cousin, Beni, who owns the restaurant, have not told her.

When Juli asks Beni’s girlfriend if she ever thinks about the past, she responds, “No, I have too much on my mind.” This restraint in talking about history has meant that the younger generation is trapped, not knowing how to perceive its place in this microcosm and how to get out of it. They fantasize about their past and dream of leaving the swampland, without taking any concrete measures towards it. This collective silence manifests itself in Juli through her cynicism and hopelessness- she does not 14

act upon her attraction to the Italian outsider and does not have a mobile phone because “nothing ever happens” there. However, once she finds out that her family’s past is closely connected to the traumatic history of the place, coincidentally or not, something does happen and she seeks out her happiness by leaving the swampland.

Despite the desolation of the setting and its historical context, the film conveys the beauty of the people inhabiting it. The love the directors show for traits that might normally be looked down on is what makes Bota powerful. It has a humorous dimension that works as such because we are shown what makes them different, gently poking fun at that difference, as opposed to criticising it. Beni’s small-time attempts at growing Bota’s business merely involve changing numbers on a road sign, yet his naivety is strongly endearing.

This look at the particularities of Bota´s characters never gives off a sense of superiority. The traditional Albanian music that plays on top of long, lingering takes of Juli zig-zagging through the swampland on her scooter, or of Beni’s girlfriend’s undulating dance, infuses those scenes with lyricism. Thus, the formal elements balance out the situational humour and draw us closer to the characters.

Bota’s accessibility for audiences, with cleverly shaped characters and an unpretentious story, is what will draw many in. This is an unfamiliar topic and setting; it is refreshing to see a film that easily makes you fall in love with its characters while also acting as a vignette of painful, marginalized socio-political issues that could hit a vulnerable spot amongst Balkan audiences.

by Raluca Petre (Romania)

review

Cherry Tobacco

Katrin Maimik & Andres Maikmik, Estonia - East of the West Section It happened to me once, that’s why I kind of liked the film. The age of something-teen, when the whole body is aching to experience the unknown. The clumsiness of conversations and a pale skin contrasting with the emerald green grass. The nudity of a bearded man and a young girl, both perfectly matching the landscape, luscious and ripe at its peak, as it only happens by the end of Baltic summer.

Laura, an innocent looking schoolgirl goes on a hike to the woods together with her best friend Merit, and three other adults. One of them, the guide named Jospeh (although the girls secretly call him «moss-beard man») is the soul of the group and soon becomes a centre of Laura‘s romantic hopes. «Be careful with him, he likes young girls», Laura is warned by her friend. But it seems a bit too late, as blueberry picking and nude swimming has already been painted in the light colour of Eros.

This lyrical story of a teenage crush is told with an occasional wit.

The film is rather slow and might require some patience otherwise you might start to wonder: «what is it all about?» Tired of playing the waiting game Laura discovers the moss-beard man has a secret life of his own. Romantic illusions are destroyed, but it takes just one song or the blow of familiar smell to build the sand castle again. There is another boy and few other people, episodically taking quite entertaining roles. The fun is for us – the viewers, because despite the few comedy like situations, Laura finds no amusement in her mother’s or friend’s words. «I‘m always bored. It just about my age» says the girl. Little does she know – when you are seventeen everything appears bigger than it is. The smoke from the cherry smelling pipe turns into a cloud, so does the hopes of the young mind, taking everything way too

seriously. It’s all about the first time, if you ask me.

The film has its quirky old feel whereas only the smart phones gives out the idea of which era it sets itself in. The majority of the action takes place in a forest, which treats one’s eyes and ears with the definite feel of summer. Although, having all these organic greens and the whiteness of Laura’s hand, the cinematography seems not to have used the full potential. The phlegmatic camera likes to keep a safe distance, or sometimes seems plain lazy to get close enough to see the texture of the surface. A similar story can be said in relation to the acting – the main characters seem to be doing a good job, although sometimes, whether it was on purpose or just a side effect of the Nordic temper, Laura’ s face seems just too blank to read. Some scenes give the impression of a parody, and if this was the original purpose, they do serve well.

So is the exaggerated acting of the mother and the wife – only if they play it as a joke. Or maybe it is the fault of the sometimes appearing amateur-like script.

It is difficult to pin point what exactly was missing there, making this a film that will hardly enter any must see list, yet still there were moments that the film totally charmed me with its beauty and naiveté. The main danger, I’m afraid, is the fact that the film fails to make us fear for Laura´s first mistakes, making us instead feel exactly like her – bored. Or maybe it takes the certain mood, maybe it has to be Sunday, maybe – being the certain age to make those 93 minutes feel shorter.

by Vaiva Rykštaite (Lithuania)

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review

Norway

Yannis Veslemes, Greece

East of the West Competition

I fought hard in our editorial meeting to have this film assigned to me, I offered bribes in the form of beers and traded interviews. I had good reasons to be excited about Norway: it promised to be a slow-burning, moody Greek vampire film with a political subtext. Given the perceived “weirdness” of the Greek New Wave and Jim Jarmusch’s dreamy indie take on vampires in Only Lovers Left Alive, the sound of a hybrid tantalized many.

Clearly, I had created the perfect conditions for disappointment.

Norway follows deadbeat, alcoholic vampire Zano through his first night in 1980s’ Athens, as he parties the night away in a scummy underground club and comes across various characters. They try really hard to be intriguing and fail miserably. As a vampire, Zano’s constant state of coldness and his search for “warmth” lend the film its name; he comments to a Norwegian drug dealer who he has just bitten that he does not know how Norwegians can handle the coldness. Zano finds warmth in sultry Alice, who lures him into the Athenian underworld and ultimately, to a dying Hitlermoustached figure of authority that hopes to force Zano to bite him and bestow him with immortality. Yes, a quirky allusion to the stronghold of the extreme right in Greece. Its humour marks the only moment in the film that leaves one feeling like Veslemes actually thought of offering his audience more than just a series of loosely tied ideas. Indeed, the idea of a dystopian 1980s Athens could have been a strong foundation had it been stressed more. Instead, Veslemes often goes off in different directions and wants to say too much. We are taken to a forest in a scene that overstays its purpose

of intensifying the connection between Zano and Alice as it also ends up revealing that the bitten Norwegian starts eating live animals, a point that has little impact at an emotional or narrative level. Encounters with souls of the underground bring Jarmusch to mind again, yet, while his characters’ dialogue is so rich, Veslemes’ ones hardly convey anything.

Most of the film’s effort has gone into aesthetics. Kitschy neon’s and the warm afterglow enveloping a car in a sea of darkness contribute to a mood that is reminiscent of that in Nicholas Winding Refn’s Drive. While undeniably mesmerizing such aesthetics should draw one into the world of the characters. Yet, since we are not interested in those characters in the first place, such aesthetics will hardly help. If anything, the aesthetics further exemplify the hotchpotch of layers that the film insists on having. The blood of the protagonists is coloured in neon shades of blue and yellow, an element that the director explains as indicating that the film is set in an alternate reality. However, that is hardly transmitted, having left me confused instead.

Greek cinema has been talked about in terms of its bizarre, alienating characters. If we are to judge Norway by that criteria, it fits perfectly within its national parameters. However, unlike some of the best films within this current, simply making a film for the sake of being bizarre and pretentious will hardly draw viewers in or gain points for innovation.

by Raluca Petre (Romania)

17

Interview with

Yannis Vesemles There are films that inevitably polarize audiences to opposite extremes. If there was one of such cases in Karlovy Vary was Yannis Vesemles´ Norway. Considering it may have caused mix feelings, walkouts and praise all at the same time we could not let such an opportunity to go to waste and immediately found a way to sit down with the young Greek filmmaker to find out all about his daring and provocative feature film.

The catalogue description mentions that your film has steampunk elements. What are the specific steampunk elements in this film?

I haven’t written this description...But I can understand why people think that. Steampunk for me means making science fiction film with vintage looks and elements of the late 19th Century. This is not exactly the case with Norway. But I used to make short science fiction films with steampunk elements. I’ve done two or three shorts set in the late 19th Century and in the future as well....But with this film I feel that you can say it’s a steampunk film in the sense that it is set in a parallel 1980s Greek universe. Sometimes, it feels futuristic in a way.

Your film has a very similar feel to that of Jim Jarmusch’s Only Lovers Left Alive. Was that an inspiration?

It’s funny because we shot the films at the same time. In his interviews, Jarmusch has talked a lot about vampires that are not in the mainstream, films that have a lot to do with vampires but very experimental or abstract, arthouse films about vampires. I really like films like that too, such as Tony Scott’s Hunger or Abel Ferraras Addiction, where they actually use the vampire mythology to speak about real people. In my film, the vampire is someone that loses himself in the night and he’s hyper all the time. He just drinks blood to survive; he’s a cursed character in a way.

And what was the similarity between real people and vam18

pires in Norway?

That more or less they feel the same, that in Norway, the vampire and the real people have the same sensibilities. They are bad or good in the same way, there’s no actual difference between them. They are not elegant and Gothic vampires, they are like real Greek people. Here, we have a person who is selfdestructive, he just wants to live for now. And there is the other guy that wants to live forever.

Do you think its funnier making them vampires?

I don’t know, probably.

Why did you choose Hitler?

He’s not Hitler, he’s a man with many disguises. At the beginning he’s Bram Stoker, the creator of Dracula, then he becomes like a Hitler imitation. Then he becomes a solider. No one really knows who this guy is. I have named him Methuselah, who is a really old person. The film plays in an abstract way with what is real and what is not. The blood has many colours, the train is a toy train. The city is made out of paper. So no one is actually what he seems to be, aside from the protagonist.

Does the Methuselah represent a certain political community in Greece?

Yes, he represents the old authority figure, maybe he’s a soldier, maybe he’s a political extremist, Fascist...He has all around him this pseudo-mysticism occult thing, which is something that represents what is happening in Greek society right now. In the Western civilization, the Nazis or the Fascists have constructed their own mythology and in Greece they tried to make their own hybrid of mysticism, Nazism, Fascism and Greek right wing extremism. It’s a parody of all these things, represented in this occult of Mathusalas.

What are Zano’s, the vampire, political leanings?

It’s funny because he’s not on one side or the other, his moralities are peculiar, because if he wants to survive, he bites, he kills. I wanted to show that the character has his own morality, he has his own rules. When he is forced to do something, he doesn't do it because it’s not in his personal morality. But I’m not sure he refuses to bite the Methuselah because he feels that him becoming immortal would be a bad thing. I wanted

to say that nothing is very clear when we are talking about these things, who is the right-wing, who is opposite to him, what is real fascism. There are grey lines in these things so this confused, let’s say, protagonist reacted in this way.

Why is it set in the 1980s?

The film is set in the imaginary 80s world because it’s a set-up that I like and I feel I know and I want to explore aesthetically through the reference of the pop culture of the era. There are many people now because they were born in the late 70s and 80s that are influenced by the sub pop culture of that era and they tried to fuse that in contemporary stories, in subjects. But in a way I feel that it is pure aesthetically but it also suits the story. Now, Greece is more globalised than it used to be in the 80s. It was a transitional era in Greece from dictatorship that ended in the 70s to the new Greek democracy. So it’s a very peculiar era. But then again, I like this kind of music, I like this kind of nightlife, the kind of movies that were shot in that era, things like that. It’s something that the national audience could understand,all the secondary characters are very well-known actors of the videotape subculture, pulp films of that era.

Do you think Greek audiences will understand all the layers?

Probably yes, probably not. Here in Karlovy Vary, they laughed in three, four moments, very different from the ones that the Greek laughed in. I’m not worried if someone will understand, because it’s a layered film that has a small story but a lot of details and abstractions and I sense that you don't need to understand everything that's happening.

I’d just like to remind you of things that you have lived or seen before.

Who are your favourite Greek filmmakers?

I like filmmakers of the past, Nikos Nikolaidis, Stavros Tornes. But now we have a new wave of Greek filmmakers, with their own style. You cannot call it Greek wave, because all the filmmakers make very different films.

by Raluca Petre (Romania)

19

Kebab & Horoscope Grzegorz Jaroszuk, Poland

East of the West Competition

Review and Interview by Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium) 20

We sat down with director Grzegorz Jaroszuk and Barbara Kurzaj, who plays one of the employees of a carpet store in this singular Polish comedy called Kebab and Horoscope. After the success of his short film Frozen Stories we finally could sit down with the upcoming Roy Anderson of Poland.

How did this particularly idea started?

The initial idea started from the question who writes horoscopes for the newspapers. I didn’t necessarily need an answer on that question but I wanted to create a situation where somebody who was following the horoscopes written by fortune-teller, would meet him and see he was just a regular guy. For a long time, I only had that opening scene. Later on, the carpet shore came into the story and other characters flowed naturally into that story. But the beginning was so important because I built up the tension a bit towards what will actually

happen, I teased the audience a bit by letting them wait.

After the success of Frozen Stories did you feel some kind of pressure on your shoulders?

No, I didn’t feel pressure at all, really. And that is all thanks to my producer Agnieszka Kurzydło. She created the perfect conditions. I just focused on the film and I didn’t think about anything else. All the troubles were guided towards her, so I was very calm during the production, only thinking about what I should be thinking about, my film itself. I always felt safe because of the fact that everything was written and I knew what would happen in the story, so there was no need for improvisation which took a lot doubts away.

So in a way it was easy for you?

No, not really. Because with every part you play you must somehow show your soul. Of course,

review

Two lost souls find each other in a Kebab food bar. One man who has just quit his job there, because of the message in his horoscope of a magazine called ‘The Secret World of Animals’, the other is his client who actually wrote the astrological forecast. A new couple of aficionados is born: meet young Polish director Grzegorz Jaroszuk.

Not that the man needs a lot of introducing, definitely not for his Polish countryman, because with his short Frozen Stories- that won several prizes at respected festivals throughout Europe- he has set expectations high. A standard he meets with an opening scene that draws you in immediately and pulls out loud laughs in the audience. The mood is instantly set on Samuel Beckett temperature, thus an extremely random vibe goes along with it.

After their unusual encounter, we follow our ‘kebab’ duo start off a partnership in marketing. They try to save a carpet store where work is at most a four letter word. We are introduced to a set of workers that could find its equals with the staff of classic British sitcom Falwty Towers. A young women who needs to help her mom find a long lost love, a boss who has a couple of gold fish named after the Beatles, a handyman who keeps things handy by breaking stuff when things get out of hand, a secretary helping a suicidal man actually get the job

I felt a lot safer because he tells you everything you must know and that made me trust him completely. But in a way you are alone on set. You concentrate yourself so much on the inside that the other actors seemed distant. But Grzegorz created a nice atmosphere to work in; you know there was a big silence on set.

Except from the scenes on the rooftop of the carpet shop the film doesn’t give the audience a lot of air with its confined sets.

Why did you opt for this technique?

I had to give the audience the feeling that the main characters had no exit. You know these where 7 people, the marketing specialists included, that worked in a carpet shop. Nonetheless, I wanted to create the roof for them to have a special place where they could breathe a little bit more.

done, and a grandpa who hasn’t lost his mojo. The least you can say of this team is that they forecast a certain degree of eccentric.

Henceforth, this film has a rare sense of Polish offbeat humor to it, rather than the witty sharp written dialogues of some Hollywood comedies. You could diagnose it with extreme levels of situational absurdness. This works throughout the whole film but the framework that holds it up collapses, thus leaving you lost in relation to the lives we should really stay invested on.

You never quite have the feeling that the relationship between our two self-declared marketing specials is a strong core for a dramatic feature. Although, the ensemble cast gives the best of themselves.

Nonetheless, the sincere heart keeps on beating all the way through the picture. And we really do think that Roy Anderson and Aki Kaurismäki could benefit for another companion in the circle of oddball and dry humorists. People who like these auteurs will find interesting stuff in Kebab and Horoscope. Of course, Jaroszuk is definitely not on that hot list yet but with the couple more frozen stories he will maybe one day pull that off.

Could you explain why you preferred to use a lot of static shots in the film?

I don’t like a moving camera that forces emotion on the audience. For me, this dynamic way of filming pushes audience too much. I try to create the tension in the shot by letting the characters work within the frame. I just favoured static filming because in seems more genuine to me.

Is Grzegorz a perfectionist?

Yes [laughs], but not in a wrong sense. You really get to fully trust him after a while.

If he says it was fine for him then you it is absolutely good for me too. On every question I asked to him about the character he had an answer, so it was a pleasure to work with him.

21

“Karlovy Vary is the magic of cinema as it was when we were children. Red velvet chairs. A huge room.

Crystal chandeliers. The dark. The curtains open on the white screen: panoramic format. The corners of my mouth can’t help turning up into a smile in the dark.

Roll credits.”

22

Delight Jitka Rudolfová, Czech Republic

East of the West Competition

Review and Interview by Vaiva Rykštaite (Lithuania) 24

Jitka Rudolfova, the film director quite well known for the Czech public, has scheduled our interview right when her sixth work “Delight” was screened.

Wondering was it the lack of time or fear of audience I decided to start our chat with the direct question: Why you didn’t go to your screening?

I used to, but I don’t have the nerves for this. I would only keep thinking of what I should have done differently. Watching the audience is nerve wrecking too.

As soon as I finish the film I start thinking about new themes. I must say this is unpleasant period for me because I have to talk about the film which is already a closed chapter for me.

You also wrote the script. How much of you is in the plot?

I don’t think the viewers have to know to which extent it is personal, but I do admit – it is. However, personally inspired script evolved in to fictitious story. I believe whenever one is writing a script personal experiences help to make the screening more convincing.

Do you ever think of your audience as a target, someone in particular to be convinced?

One of my teachers used to say that the essence of making a film is to think the viewer is just like you.

He thinks like you and feels like you. So, the notion of viewer not understanding the film seems a very abstract concept for me… When I start working on a script I cannot even think whether my audience will be men or women. It is producers work to do this. I can only hope everyone will like it, which in reality never happens.

I heard the rumours that not a single visual artist gets the initially imagined result. What do you think?

True. It always turns out very different from the original idea. The film that I see in my mind never looks the same on the screen. But that is exactly why I like this process – it is a journey of changes during different stages of the filmmaking. I’m pretty sure no filmmaker is watching their final film for entertainment.

review

There is a man telling the story of spermatozoids, then he is replaced with a girl acting as if a vibrating dildo is a mosquito (don‘t ask). It is a casting for young actors. Then there is Milena, the film editor and the main persona in this plot. So, sperm and Milena – you will see a lot of those two.

The Czech wannabe philosophical drama is the kind of piece that it is easier to describe as separate parts of a puzzle rather than the whole picture. The core topic is a relationship between a man and a woman, illustrated with text messages appearing on the screen in the background of random actions. This cinematographic texting idea intended to be innovative, (although it makes watching the film and reading the subtitles and text messages simultaneously quite a mission);but despite the overtaking feel of modernity the «love“ story is rather classic – or cliché, I guess this is the matter of taste. So Milena wants to be with Vadim, but Vadim is just using her. They text each other a lot. Vadim, is actually is texting more often, but that is because he comes up with various excuses not to see Milena again.

In the mean time Milena is super busy – editing films, dealing with various dramas at work, and replying Vadims texts, of course. Then the feel of TV melodrama series creeps in.

I believe Delight had a potential of becoming a good film only if it was half way shorter! But here I leave the space for the eternal debate: when random empty scenes actually mean something, and when they don’t. And yet, it is not so bad.

If you are shy, how do you deal with your team, knowing artists is a difficult kind to control?

If I know them in person it is OK, because I just tell them then. But if it is an older more respected actor, it might be really difficult. But I never blame my actors, only myself. And in the process of film making there is a point I must lose my shyness. Also the actors have certain reputation from the previous shoots, so I try to avoid them.

Czech Republic is a small space, where choices are limited but everyone knows each other.

I know you also worked in theatre and television but you try to stay on the side of cinema. What is so special about the language of film?

Theatre is not my cup of tea. But currently I’m working on a TV film actually. I believe the main difference between theatre and film is that a play is not preserved by editing, which is extremely important for filmmaking. This is when a film gets the final shape and the uniqueness of the director is expressed. In the theatre actors

The possibility of standing out in the Czech filmmaking context is not ruled out. And it definitely can be praised for the somewhat overall futuristic feel skilfully mixed up with the realities of Milena‘s dream.

The film is generously saturated with various symbols, jokes and seemingly random pieces of information. Some of them are plain weird (like a dead rabbit with two bagels), some – irritating (like the repetitive leitmotif of sperm), and very few – amusing. This, I suppose intentional, quirky absurd will be perceived either as an artistic decision impossible to explain, or, for those less forgiving – as obviously pretentious.

The clear cuts and vivid colours are pleasant for an eye, so is the acting, which sadly wasn’t fully enhanced due to lack of character development. By the end I got in to it, and just when things got really twisted I have realised – there are no motives, or at least I haven’t noticed them while hurrying to read the screen texts and constantly being distracted by the word „sperm“.

I must admit I was (not necessarily pleasantly) surprised by the ending, although it lacked the humorous kick it was begging for. Thinking back now, if the main goal of the film was the impression expressed by one of the characters «everything is OK, but I‘m experiencing the permanent feeling of despondency», then the final goal has been achieved.

can still do something different and improvise – that’s what I don’t like about the live performances – they cannot be edited.

What is the role of Delight in the Czech film industry?

There are many films being made in Czech Republic, but there are fewer and fewer viewers for the cinema. The market is oversaturated, and television is taking over, as everyone has millions of different TV channels and don’t feel like going somewhere and paying the money. They know they can wait for a few months and will see it on TV. The periods of cinema screening are getting shorter, and I believe the future of filmmakers will be more focused on TV projects and series of better quality.

25

Afterlife

Virág Zomborácz, Hungary East of the West - Competition

by Fernando Vasquez (Portugal) Losing a close one is never an easy process, let alone when the deceased returns in the shape of an ever present ghost that haunts your daily life, including in your most intimate moments. That is Virág Zomborácz´s simple proposition in Afterlife, a somewhat bizarre Hungarian drama that landed in the East of the West section of this year´s edition of the Karlovy Vary Film Festival.

Mózes is an unconfident and awkward young man who never seems to say the right thing at the right time. He is perpetually at a different gear then everyone else, above all is preacher father who appears to have little interest in making his son´s existence any easier by demanding and expecting too much of him. The fathers unexpected death brings him no relief though, has his nerves are put to a test when his father ghost comes back to haunt him.

He embarks on a journey trying to bring peace to his father’s ghost, but as the presence becomes increasingly uncomfortable, and his family begins to fall to pieces, the task proves itself to be much harder than first expected.

Despite an overwhelming sadness felt across the picture, there are several comedic moments that make Virág Zomborácz´s feature debut a worthwhile experience. The total disastrous collapse of a nativity play where Mózes takes part, or the presence of the ghost during the young man´s chance to have sex for the first time, are just a few examples of Zomborácz´s comic vein in action. When comedy is the goal Afterlife is surprisingly effective.

Unfortunately the young Hungarian director is going after a lot more in this film, and this is where things get particularly confusing and the many faults of the film become worryingly obvious. The film is so lost in its intent that it is impossible to categorize, despite the fact that overall is actually quite a light-hearted execution.

Apart from Mózes, whose curse forces him to change throughout the film, the rest of the characters appear to be little more than mere props to the narrative. This would have been enough if the protagonist, and the performance of Márton Kristóf, was strong enough to pull it off, but depressingly it is not.

Most important is the film´s near total lack of rhythm, which makes the story feel like a series of disjointed situations instead of the strong pulp it tries to be.

There are a lot of factors playing against Afterlife´s success, but the peculiar sense of comedy might just be enough to guarantee some excitement about what the young Hungarian filmmaker might do next.

26

Monument to Michael Jackson Down the River Darko Lungulov, Serbia, Germany, Macedonia, Croatia East of the West - Competition

by Fernando Vasquez (Portugal) Darjo Lungulov is one of the most promising faces of contemporary Serbian cinema. His debut feature Here and there collected a series of awards in the festival circuit, including Best New York Narrative at the prestigious Tribecca Film Festival. He returns now in a somewhat different and less effective format, with Monument to Michael Jackson, a light hearted comedy that relies excessively on its capacity to manipulate sympathy as well as the willingness of the audience, with unfortunate results.

The films tells us the story of Marko, a friendly yet inconsequential barber living in a depressed small town, whose marriage has been destroyed by his endless broken promises. Once he finally realizes he has lost Ljubinka, his beautiful wife, he develops a somewhat absurd arrangement to gain his love’s attention and rehabilitate his township´s future. His flamboyant plan is to build a statue of Michael Jackson in the centre of the village, which according to him will attract flocks of tourists to the region, bringing much wealth and a new beginning to his relationship with Ljubinka.

Unfortunately the American icon has long stopped being a consensual figure and his plan is in direct conflict with the mayors secret deals with less scrupulous developers, who are much more interested in building a shopping centre. As such, what should have been an easy fix becomes a fatal mistake.

There is an interesting sense of tragedy in Lungulov´s work, which brings us some echoes of Serbia´s increasingly growing influence of far right groups and the inner dealings of small town corruption. Unfortunately it is all too superficial to be taken seriously, as the filmmaker seems to be more concern in achieving an easy laugh than make any real comments on his homeland.

This is where Monument to Michael Jackson fails drastically though. Adult audiences require more than odd awkward dances and a pot belly to empathize with characters, and Marko sadly has little more to offer. His relationship with Ljubinka is never genuine enough to convince, lacking the chemistry and intensity so needed to provoke any sort of emotional response. Instead we are taken for a cheerful ride through small-town life, making us eager to find the nearest exit.

There is something slightly off key in the timing of the humour. The delivery is seldomly accurate, and laughs rare and too scattered to allow the narrative to flow. As a result, the Kusturica like soundtrack, a downplayed and timid version of it, quickly becomes the final annoying blow that stops us from ever allowing the film any chance.

Perhaps the film will be able to speak to Serbian Sunday afternoon mainstream audiences, but its superficiality and insistence on cliché action and humour will hardly stand a chance with international viewers.

Asif Rustamov, Azerbaijan East of the West - Competition

by Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium)

Let’s row our boat out by saying that we’re glad that we could see a new feature from Azerbaijan in competition because the film industry in this country is adrift with very few films being produced, specially few that stand out as noteworthy. Sadly, this film feels for the largest part like a river of textbook film situations where film knowledge shines through, but a strong auteur voice or any sort of smouldering inventiveness is missing.

Notwithstanding the fact that from the first pleasing long shots we are drawn to the river and director Asif Rustamov drops us comfortably in the story of film, it feels all forced on us. Ali, who coaches his son Ruslan in the local rowing team but doesn’t want his only child to call him father before the other members of the boat crew, looks to be cut out of theatrical stone. The protagonist never develops enough to become genuine and when the son disappears during a swim in the water, after kicking him out of the squad just before an important race, his hard shell breaks down slowly, giving his mental disturbance a glazy and rather unnatural feel.

The same is true for Ruslan´s mother who never seems to empower any singular personality. She appears on the screen as a perfect standard for a mother that is strong, loving, and always faithful to her man, although he «doesn’t have a heart he has a stone», to say it in her own words. Of course Ali cheats on her, above all with the only female character in the film that wears pronounced colourful outfits and has orange hair; obviously she pops out and gathers a lot of frowned eyebrows. A similar overemphasized air can be found around the other minor characters which just strike as too easily constructed for a more demanding audience.

Luckily, the photography adds some nice underwater stream to the picture but, except for the bright lighting, the choice of angles and camera techniques feels rather inconsistent, shaping a beautiful but somewhat confusing palette. In the same manner, the music works, candidly said, as ‘strange moments of imbalanced and out of touch emotion’. Without a doubt it all has a lot to do with the script that professionally jumps for one evident clue to another.

As a student exercise we would call Down the River promising but for a film playing in the East of the West competition in a big film festival such as Karlovy Vary, this is simply a race wherein every rowing paddle that cuts into the river is utterly forgettable.

Nisimazine’s 2014 AGENDA

Venice Film Festival 27 August - 7 September San Sebastian Film Festival 19 - 27 September Tallin Black Nights Film Festival 14 - 30 November

For additional information and application please contact us at: fernando@nisimasa.com

www.nisimasa.com 27

The Tree Sonja Prosenc, Slovenia

East of the West Competition

Review and Interview by Ewa Wildner (Poland) 28

When Slovenian director Sonja Prosenc walked into the room I immediately stopped feeling nervous. Radiating confidence and the sense of calmness she sat in an armchair, swept her long black hair to the back and smiled that rare kind of a restraint yet fearless smile. I didn’t have to open the catalogue to see a picture – this had to be a woman who made The Tree.

Although the story is heavy, you manage to tell it in a constrained and subtle way.

It was very important for me to avoid big emotions. I allowed actors to show panic only in one of the opening scenes – when the mother gets out of the house to catch the boy who ran away. Although pathos is the quickest way to get the audience emotional, it’s also artificial and I’m not interested in that. It’s much more rewarding when you make a movie like The Tree which is very restraint and get an emotional response for that. After the screening, one of the viewers approached me and had hard time speaking, I was afraid that he’ll start crying, I wouldn’t know what to do [laughs].

Didn’t the movie and powerful theme it touches ove-

rwhelm you during the making process?

It’s hard not to be influenced by the atmosphere, I was stunned when I heard about the tradition of blood feud that is going on for many years in Albania.

If a murder takes place, the family of a victim has a right to kill one of the members of the killer’s relatives. The only rule is that you are safe in your own house, so families are trapped behind the walls of their houses for many years. It all started as a photography project, then it evolved into documentary but we had a feeling that it’s not enough – it had to be a feature film. I saw the first scene in my head when the older of the brothers walking along the wall, the younger rides his bike around the yard. It’s powerful because it sets the scene for what is going to happen. After that first image the story grew by itself.

You can see that it was meant as a photography project – the most stunning thing about The Tree are visuals.

Even before the shooting, we were writing the film through images. I have a background as a graphic designer and had a clear vision of what I wanted to achieve. It was very specific, we would spend twenty hours of searching for the right shade of blue. Eve-

review

Sonja Prosenc’s feature debut brings to mind the construction of a jigsaw puzzle. You get three pieces, each of which doesn’t make much sense when separated from the rest. When put together, however, they create a visually remarkable picture which stays under the lids long after the screening.

You would better not watch it though if you’re claustrophobic.

The Tree creates a dense atmosphere which may make some of the audience feel that there is not enough air in the film theatre. The first chapter is presented from the perspective of the youngest of the protagonists and takes place mostly on a dusty yard surrounded by high walls. There is just a boy there, his blue bike and massive metal door guarding the entrance to the rest of the world. The frequent close-ups on the faces, as well as presenting the boy’s reality through his half-closed eyes, peeking through partly shut doors and windows, intensifies the feeling of an overwhelmingly confined space, which gives the story a distinctive touch of isolation. The imprisonment is a central theme of the movie – the family of three is secluded behind the walls of their own house. Don’t expect that the reason will crop up soon, you have to put all the pieces together first to get to know the storyline.

into their lives with neither a warning nor an explanation. Not knowing the motives, or even any background, heightens the confusion which results in creating the tension that is smartly reduced as the events of this slow yet rhythmical family drama unfold. The camera work doesn’t help, you may find yourself subconsciously peeking to the sides of the screen in the hope of seeing more and get rid of the overpowering restlessness.

But even though the director sentences the audience to an imaginative prison during the screening, she makes sure that the windows overlooking it present the sights which might make the viewers reluctant to set themselves free.

It’s not enough to say that the visuals catch your eye, they captivate the attention of all senses. When the protagonist moves his hand against the concrete wall, the texture can be felt on our own palms. You can smell a scent of a freshly pressed male shirt when a woman brushes it against her body. The sound of a metal gate closing gets the viewers to reach the highest level of anxiety. If the cinematography of a film can ever suffer from being too flawless, this is just the case – The Tree can give recurring nightmares to aesthetic perfectionists and insightful photographers.

Such emotions are possible because of the clever and wellknown trick of using non-linear narration. Instead of starting by introducing the characters, the director throws the viewers

rything we wanted to show was to suggest emotions, particularly the feeling of entrapment, without overdoing it – by means of the visuals as well as the music.

Will you develop this theme in your next feature?

Yes, only it will be a short film. I’m fascinated by the process of overcoming the initial fear and anger after something bad happens, especially after you lose somebody and start working your way to be able to breathe afterwards. It happened to me during the making of The Tree, everyday when we finished working on the set me and my partner Mitja [Licen], a co-writer and director of photography of the film, would go to the hospital where my aunt Sara was dying.

Is the closing shot where you can see the words “Sari Karo” made for her?

Yes, since she didn’t have the chance to see the film I decided to dedicate The Tree to her.

You mentioned that you are working on your films with your life partner. How do you manage to separate private life from work?

It’s impossible! We’re a couple for ten years and since we’ve met we discuss films all the time, not only our but also those we see. Even on my birthday he organised a private screenning of Tarkovsky’s Mirror for me and a couple of friends.

As you see I’m into watching and making not very funny movies, if I made a comedy it would probably be very tragic [laughs].

What would be your advice for filmmakers who are at the beginning of their career?

We have special platforms promoting young directors in Slovenia, so that we don’t have to compete with established filmmakers. It works very well for a small country like ours with no big productions and small budgets, an example can be Rok Bicek’s Class Enemy which is also included in this year’s Karlovy Vary programme. But what is the most important is what I’ve learnt during several workshops I took part in – stop believing those books that tell you how to write a script, there is no better way to learn than to share personal experiences with professionals.

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Living in a home where opportunity doesn’t come easily: the life of people who fall between two worlds.

Some people don’t have a place that they can properly call home; they are washed away from one shore to another, living their life in places that seems to be stopovers or simply areas that are not appreciated for their value. Not that these people don’t love the home where they live in but the surrounding environment squeezes them into playthings. When you are a child in that game, your chances on building a future after the image of your sober dreams are slim. You’re not even living in a lost land anymore, because land is money. Thereupon, the people who do have a home will use the weakest areas when necessary.

So what about these people living in between nations, why should we talk about them? Why does art house cinema depict these stories more and more? I think they tell these stories because smaller, hidden cultures matter a lot more than mainstream media want to acknowledge. Moreover, I think different perspectives on how people 30

envision the world breathe fresh air into our own mentalities. We often have hazy attitudes towards people as a result of the fact we are mainly fed by the four leading press agencies and mainstream entertainment, so more perspective is always a welcome asset.

Art house cinema has always been on the forefront to make minorities visible, this in sharp contrast to the ‘standardised’ people in Hollywood cinema. Festivals are the right place to discover new cultures. In George Ovashvili’s Corn Island - the film took the main prize of the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival - we get to know people who couldn’t be more far removed from the general type of people that populate big budget films nowadays. A grandfather with a skin that resembles the crust of a seasoned tree and his granddaughter, who is gracefully painted with freckles all over her face, empower the screen with slow paced conversations and

small gestures. They literally live in between Georgia and Abkhazia, building their wooden cabin on one of the small islands in the middle of the Inguri River, during the period of spring and summer. Although, they are modest farmers and not at all involved in the conflict between the countries, border police and soldiers interrupt their bond with nature, not carrying much about the vulnerability of their home. It is this forcing of people to live one way or another that leaves them with fewer opportunities, the middle way that they wish to follow is hardly respected.

In like manner, it is also recognition that is missing when in Andrey Zvyagintsev’s newest film Leviathan (which won best screenplay in Cannes) the family of Kolya is forced out of their home by a greedy mogul. The corrupt mayor of the small town doesn’t care that this solitary part of a forgotten seaport is actually somebodies home; hereby stealing away the only real future Kolya can see in his mind. Nobody really cares about the situation (his lawyer and good friend has more interest in making fame and stealing his wife) except for Kolya, who hasn’t known of any other home in his life. Subsequently, he loses everything and his family is ‘dragged into a world they don’t know a lot about’. Henceforth, if we turn that statement around, most of us don’t know the macrocosm of these smaller areas too. Cinema luckily has the great power to show us some powerful glimpses of this unknown territory.

For instance the neighborhoods that are somewhat unflattering called suburbs. These places where mostly minorities try to build up a known spot, they fill in the ‘gaps’ between business oriented cities and family friendly villages. Though a home, these regions are often stigmatized as

trouble. They only become important when some favor is needed from the population who is living there. It appears to be as difficult to mature as they show in the lauded David Simon series The Wire: you are killed or imprisoned in the struggle, you end up in a corrupt system where you can’t really grow, or you’ll be one of the lucky few to be pulled out of this ‘betweenness’, helped by others to achieve something else than what was expected from you. Because people don’t hope for much when they see children grow up in these streets, they refuse to genuinely invest in the future of the children. Since believing would mean listening to their needs, helping to understand their dreams. In Barbarians, a film by Ivan Ikic, that is shown clearly. The frustration of the protagonists comes from the limited chances they are handed.

Of course, there is also hope as we see in Marianne Tardieu’s subtle constructed Insecure wherein a security guard, played by Reda Kateb, gradually sees his dream of becoming a nurse come to life. Still, the road of these people rolls out in a very bumpy trajectory and the drive is way harder than for other people, since they had the pleasure of growing up in a home’s bursting of opportunities.

That is why we should tell their stories and let people know that we should give those people- who have lost their home or live in between worlds in one way or another- a real chance to rake up different opportunities. It starts with letting them know that they do have a voice in the society, which means that people actually try to understand. Moreover, they should be able to create their own path as seeing the same standard over and over again becomes pretty short sided.

by Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium)

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“An overlay of images as souvenirs. Waiting, interviews, screenings, coffee, walking in the spa town, coffee by the hillside, meetings, photos, walking in parks, booking meetings, interview, beer, ice, movie, beers, interview, ice, movie, beer...�

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Photos Reportage 35

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The European Film Promotion group joined hands with journalism giants Variety to shed some light on 10 of the most promising and exciting new filmmakers in Europe right now.

The result was a consistent and, at points, thought provoking selection, that mixed some well established names such as John Michael McDonagh or Noaz Deshe, with newcomers on the scene.

Films such as Rok Bicek’s Class Enemy, Marianne Tardieu’s Insecure or Eskil Vogt’s Blind were once again the centre of attention, after months of travelling around the festival circuit. The Nisimazine team could not let such an event go unnoticed and dived deep in this unique selection.

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review

Quot erat demonstrandum Andrei Gruzsniczki, Romania

EFP/Variety Critics’ Choice Section In focusing on the draconian tools employed by the Communist state to control society, Andrei Gruzsniczki’s second feature Quod Erat Demonstrandum (QED) may appear to be a rehashed Romanian version of The Lives of Others. Indeed, its 1984 setting can be both an Orwellian allusion as well as a hint to the German cult film.It is as if to assure us that Gruzsniczki, as both writer and director, knows that the subject has been tackled before and that he wants to delve deeper into a similar political context, showing a rather different aspect of it.

The film explores the destructive impact that state surveillance had upon Romanian society in the 1980s, with an emphasis on the nature of the relationships amongst citizens whose state encouraged informing upon one another. Each character’s actions gain a complex dimension because their motivations are revealed, as Gruzsniczki is not concerned with pointing fingers and finding scapegoats. Instead, he intends to show the nuance that humans feel when pushed in a certain direction by a political system.

Sorin is a mathematician, who- frustrated by the lack of recognition and professional mobility in Romania- publishes his innovative theory in an American journal. He does this with the help of a university friend, who fled to the West and whose wife, Elena, and child are waiting for permission from Romanian authorities to join him abroad. Therefore, Elena has much to lose should she be caught engaging in anything the state deems to be subversive.The Romanian secret police assigns an agent to spy on Sorin and to prevent him from further publishing abroad. Instead of physical coercion, the agent prefers more psychological methods that strain friendships and moral integrities, ultimately leaving individuals feeling isolated, resentful and ashamed.

QED is subtly self-aware, with nods and double entendres to both our contemporary political climate as well as the film world. Early on, the agent is convinced that every “civilized state” spies on its people, using the CIA as an example, a comment that is particularly relevant today, given the NSA scandals. Gruzsniczkiis concerned with Romanians leaving the country for the West, as the context of Elena’s husband having fled to France leads to conversations revealing idealised visions of Western society and the difficult realities confronted once one does leave, an issue that is very much alive in today’s Romania.

When Sorin’s mother hints that she would want a colour TV, Sorin replies that there’s no difference between a coloured and a black and white image, “all you need is some extra imagination.” However, the same cannot be said for the film’s cinematography, as the fact that it’s shot in black and white is a stylistic element that most obviously sets it apart from previous Romanian films set in that era. Its beautifully contrasted cinematography fuels a narrative that thrives on mystery, where the unsaid matters as much as the said and, therefore, where powerful images gain extra weight.Close-ups of gestures,of a lit candle in a room that sees daily power cuts do not only offer an insight into daily life in Communist Romania, but are also reminiscent of a film noir, in which tension relies on images of shadows and expectations of deceit. The film could have benefited from more tension by revealing less until the final scene or revealing a surprising trait exhibited by a character, as, at times, it feels like the film is hoping to be more suspenseful than it is.

Ultimately, the pleasure of reading the film on several levels, of thinking about the ironies of the title and of different comments made by characters throughout is QED’s greatest asset.

by Raluca Petre (Romania) 39

Interview with

Andrei Gruzsniczki Romanian cinema has been a high for a long time. As other “fashions” have appeared out of nowhere and swiftly return to the place where then came from, this one exception seems to be here to stay. The critical and commercial success of many of its exports is more than proof that this phenomenon is quite unique in contemporary European cinema. Perhaps the latest, and most promising, manifestation of this trend is Andrei Gruzsniczki´s latest feature film, Quod Erat Demonstrandum. This unforgettable and striking story of the suffering caused by decades of incessant surveillance under the communist regime echoes some of the threats the modern world is currently facing, making it a pertinent peice at many levels. As such it became imperative to track Gruzsniczki in the Czech Spa town for a long chat on the reasons that lead him to begin such a project.

How did you carry out your research? In terms of subject as well as production design?

In terms of production design it was quite easy, I just hired the best production designer in Romania and it was his job, I just left him to it. And being a black and white movie, it was quite a challenge because we actually shot in black and white, but the designer had luckily already worked on such movies in the communist era. The 40

in my absurd scheme of things.

Why do you think it’s important to show the grey area within characters? There are no good and bad characters in my opinion.

First of all, because I don’t like to do things in black and white, in this kind of ethical black and white. This is not what life is.

It was important at the beginning to have a character from this security police believing in what he was doing, believing that he was protecting this society of evil. If I look back in that era, in the 70s and 80s, people were still believing in communism.

The title can be interpreted on several levels. How do you like to understand it?

lady who did the costumes also had experience in this. They knew how it would appear in shadows of greys. I also had the best DOP who had also worked in black and white.

But on the other hand, writing the script, which took almost two years from the starting point, required a lot more research.

We had to have a lot of consultants, a lot of direction from the former secret police officers. We had the chance to find someone who was more open, who helped us a lot in terms of the atmosphere in the secret police offices.

Why is the main character a mathematician?

I had to read a lot of books and at one point, I changed the profession of the main character. I had studied engineering so the main character was an engineer initially. I found a book about the secret police surveying a well-known Romanian mathematician- Octavian Onicescu. He was very old at the time, but he had some links with the Nazis during WW2, so he was under surveillance. The point was that the book contained a lot of files on him. Maybe 80% of the files were about his private life.

Things that you can now find out on Facebook, like what he ate.

But I realised that they didn’t have a clue about the importance of this guy in his field. So they were searching someone, not knowing if he was important or not. So they had to reply on some other mathematicians to see whether he is important or not. At one point, I thought this is the most absurd situation, because I just put the main character in this situation by someone not knowing what they are doing.

Why did you place an emphasis on Latin?

Well, it was part of the mathematician’s profession, it has lots of Latin expressions; quod erat demonstrandum is quite a popular expression in mathematics. But then, at that time in the 1980s, we were bombarded with the Latin background of the Romanian people. Therefore, I thought to include this element

On a subtle level, you will be surprised to see the title at the end of the film, like it is in mathematics, at the end of the problem. This is what to be shown. What was demonstrated was what we already know, that people can be easily turned in their minds, towards evil or towards good, at the same time.

What do you think are the long term psychological impacts in today’s Romania of informing and of the kind of society that communism encouraged?

I’m sure that that era left a clear print on us, on our psychological way of being, of acting. I think this is because we were missing something, and now we’re trying to recoup this. This was the impact in the first 10 years after the revolution. We lacked something in all areas, financially, culturally, in terms of travel, and we tried to cover this through consumption in order to get to the same level as others, which is crazy, because we aren’t there yet and it will still take a while for us to get there.

Romanian audiences have been critical of films set in the Communist era, stylistically as well as in terms of content.

Do you think that because you have a different style, this will attract people more?

I think there are two different things. Yes, stylistically, if you are showing the misery and everything, the people get sick of it. So, in a way, when we started this movie, we were thinking that we are not going to show this misery, we were going to upgrade a bit the society and the kinds of people. This film was shown in TIFF fesitval in Cluj and I think it got quite a positive feedback from the audience, because they saw a film about communism, which was not really about communism. Because it was about the psychology of a normal human being. It is not another one of those neorealist Romanian films.

by Raluca Petre (Romania)

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Grand Piano Eugenio Mira, Spain EFP/Variety Critics´ Choice Section

Review by Fernando Vasquez (Portugal) 42

Eugenio Mira is one of the increasingly influential Spanish thriller directors of the moment. His third feature, Grand piano, has been a considerable success commercially and is still roaming the festival circuit. We sat down with the filmmaker to learn more about his obssesion with music and genre cinema.

Judging by Grand Piano and your work as a soundtrack composer you seem to have a huge in music. How did that interest started?

Me and my sister developed a big interest in musicals like Singing in the rain or West side story when we were kids. My parents were artists and as they wanted me to know the language of music i started playing piano when I was four years. So when Rodrigo Cortez (producer) approached me with the script for Grand Piano he knew I would be interested.

working on a musical. When he wrote Grand piano it was meant to be directed by himself. But came up Whiplash, and it is a more serious film while Grand piano is a love letter to Hitchcock. I am very envious of Whiplash, it is a variation of Grand piano while Whiplash is a character study. I changed the script of Grand piano to do something similar to a character study and he loved it.

The film is mostly spent in a very small space, how difficult was it to work with such restrictions?

How was working with Damien Chazelle, director of Whiplash and writer of Grand Piano, since both of you have such a big interest in music?

My father once told me: «at some point you have to stop». It is a critical moment that you notice if you keep going it will be over cooked. I think that is very true. Grand piano is the proof that every creative process is about making decisions, and when you make decisions by definition they are restrictions.

But confinement and restrictions are only a big challenges. It is amazing, I was not expecting to find so much room in such a small space. Part of why Grand piano is what it is, is because I felt very confident and comfortable with all these restrictions.

It is funny you ask that because he is currently

Most of your work is in English language. Do you

review

The Spanish tradition in the thriller genre has always been one of the most exciting and successful in Europe, releasing success after success in the last few decades. When it comes to doing so using an English language format it has proven to be a guaranteed recipe for triumph.

Set almost entirely on a classical music stage, Grand Piano show us the few tense hours of an immensely skilful pianist´s fight for his own and his stunning girlfriend´s life, as they find themselves the victim of a mysterious sniper. If he misses a note in what is claimed to be the hardest piece to play on a piano he will be shot dead. If he shouts for help his girlfriend will be the target. As such, the musician is left to his own devices to both play at his best as well as catch the criminal.

It should go without saying, easier said than done. The protagonist, played by Elijah Wood, has been away from the stage for a long time, ever since he failed miserably in his previous attempt to play the recital he is now forced to perform spotlessly. The fact that he has to do it using the impressive instrument previously owned by his notoriously tough tutor and the presence of his successful partner are all overwhelming added and unwelcome pressures.

One only needs to think of Joel Schumacher´s Phone booth or Vicenzo Natali´s Cube to realize this is not the first time we see action packed intense thrillers taking place in small spaces. Yet none of its predecessors are as excessive, extravagant and overblown as Grand piano tries to be. Mira is surely not shy nor subtle, embarking on an endless myriad of techniques and tricks to make this a never before seen experience.

Crane shots, panning shots, close ups, diagonal angles, sharp editing, dramatic musical score, you name it, Grand piano has it all in

plan to ever shot in Spanish again?

I only shot one film in Spanish, a film called Agnosia. We actually even shot a few bits in Catalan. I have no problem in shooting in Spanish.

I think the world is now more available to read subtitles. American audiences have been protected by a very conservative film system. It is a fact that in the 80´s studios did not care about how the films performed outside of America.

Now it makes the whole difference, they cannot afford not to think of world sales. I think we are going to see a completely cosmopolitan industry in the future where talent is coming from all over the world. .

abundance, making you forget the main character is locked in a claustrophobic nightmarish situation. It may seem absurd to employ such methods that ignore the confined space, such an important part of the story, but Mira´s infantile eagerness to impress is oddly refreshing.

This is true for the first half of the film at least, as the never-ending movement and energy eventually becomes tedious and ineffective.

Even worse, as we go along, the action becomes somewhat absurd, in particular when the pianist plays, talks and writes a text message all at the same time. Suspension of disbelief is stretch to its limits, bordering on the ridiculous. If you manage to fall in love with the filmmakers ambition do not worry, you´ll happily ignore it.

Unfortunately there are other factors not so easy to disregard. One of them is Elijah Wood´s stale performance, never able to convey the intensity and horror the character demands. It is a shame considering there is no other Hollywood star so available to support European excursions into such adventures. Similarly to his routine in Franck Khalfoun´s Maniac, Wood appears unable to shake off his Frodo like persona, undressing him off the capacity to be dangerous, threatening and unpredictable.

The script by Damien Chazelle, the man behind one of the year´s most talk about films, Whiplash, is also surprisingly faulty, particularly in its insistence in providing a reason for the sniper´s action. When it does so it is simply not good enough, making you wish he was merely a psychopath on the loose.

Overall Grand piano would have been a greater achievement if it had not tried to tie all the knots to feed its mass audience appeal, yet, Mira´s excitement is contagious throughout most of the film, making it a great deal of exaggerated and honest fun.

always relevant. But now there is a generation of filmmakers that are more open minded. When they were kids perhaps they were into films that had less to do with reality. But now they are making genre films with adult interests. That was added to the equation. And because of that a new generation of film programmers are interest in this sort of productions.

You are clearly a filmmaker influenced by genre cinema, do you feel that large film events are not more open to this sort of productions?

I am happy that more than a century after film started, for the first time certain genres are not diminished in the hierarchy. You can make a thriller and make a point about anthropology, or make a politically driven zombie film. They were 43

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“Yes, the cocktail has already begun. But neither the glasses nor the discussions on the films have an end. Everyone invites you everywhere. Within a few hours Karlovy Vary by night reveals all its secrets. Relax and enjoy- you are already a regular. “

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review

Blind

Eskil Vogt, Norway, Netherlands

Variety Critics’ Choice: Europe Now!

Ingrid (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) has recently lost her sight, but that is not the biggest loss she experienced. Along with the ability to see she is deprived of a sense of balance needed to distinguish the dreams from reality. Viewers follow her while she is stepping into the unknown – by adjusting the camera work to the surroundings of a blind person, the director Eskil Vogt does a clever trick of letting the audience under the skin of the main protagonist.

Despite a blank look, Ingrid is an observer. In a raw IKEA setting of her apartment she tells us the story in a first-person narration about her two neighbors whose lives she is following very closely. Before you ask how she does it since she’s blind, wait for her to explain – as she says in the opening scene, her talent is the ability to visualize things. Thus she knows that all three of them have much in common – although in the separate apartments they laugh at the same jokes on TV and listen to similar music. They can sit in darkness for hours on end, although for different reasons – Einar (Marius Kolbenstvedt) indulges in porn movies, Elin (Vera Vitali) stares blankly into a television set waiting for her turn to spend a day with her daughter. For Ingrid darkness is an eternal state. The lack of light feeds the imagination of the three and lets the protagonists live their lives in two dimension, the given and the chosen one.

They use it for the same purpose – to fill their empty apartments with people, be it ex-partners, children or porn actresses.

Close shooting makes the viewers feel as if they are let to these homes as well, especially when it comes to Ingrid.

Frequent close-ups on her face or placing the camera right above her shoulder enable to get a blind person’s perspective. We get access to both of her worlds, the one with her kitchen perfectly clean and the other where the scene is set by the stains from spilt food. “It easy to visualize,” she says. “But you have to train so as not to fall out of practice.” She’s so good at it that she takes the audience with her on those trips during which viewers stumble in the dark, blind-folded by intentionally confusing narration where cinematography is as subtly and skillfully done as if to stay in contrast with the blindness of the main protagonist.

Acclaimed by juries in Sundance and Berlin, Blind proves to be an insightful feature debut from a Norwegian director, done with both empathy and skill. By establishing Ingrid as a writer Vogt adroitly plays with the viewer by telling a story on different levels, creating a meta-narrative with loneliness as a main character. Seeing through pages of the book instead of her eyes, Ingrid was given the chance not many people dare to take – to choose her own reality. After all, as she says at some point, it doesn’t really matter what is real, as long as you can visualize it.

by Ewa Wildner (Poland)

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Insecure Marianne Tardieu, France EFP/ Variety‘s Critics’ Choice section

Review and Interview by Vaiva Rykštaite (Lithuania) 48

Meeting Marianne Tardieu was just like watching her film – subtle and intelligent, never too loud but confident to talk about currently painful social issues in France. Listening to the flow of French tasting words I have realised two things: it takes a philosopher to make a good politically charged yet not obviously political film, and second – our insecurities must be more or less universal. How else could the film be so tenderly convincing?

The director who first starts working with camera, then – cinematography, followed by writing scripts and teaching in the film school must know her job inside out.It all was a natural process?

A bit schizophrenic. Imagine: you work as a camera assistant so you are small in the team, thus hours later you stand up to speak about your movie to the producers… Being in different places at the same time is tiring, but this is how I met a lot of people.

Reda Kateb is one of them.

Every creative work is transmitting some message.

In your first feature-lenght film you chose to speak

it through a dark social realism drama. What triggered that topic? Did you see similar things happening around you?

Two things. First – it was really around me, I lived in a poor area in France too. Those suburbs are very isolated and I think lives of young people there go to waste. Also, the big revolts that happened in 2005 – it lasted for almost one month then. Now I would feel bad not to talk about it. There are many clichés and stereotypes about those suburbs – I want to avoid it.

Also making a portrait of the man struggling to find his place in the society was no less important in my film. It is hard for all of us, but for him it is harder just because he is from that suburb.

Is it difficult to shoot in a suburb?

No, we chose very calm and safe suburb – they actually exist. We also explained the local people the story we were shooting and everyone was like, “ah, it is about my cousin, neighbour and etc.” Because a security guard is the easiest job to find if you haven’t done any studies. We worked with security agencies and with young people. They were very happy and excited “are you really shooting a movie here?” I am looking forward to show them the film.

review

A bunch of kids surround a young man in a suit. They make fun of him. He is a grown-up and they are just kids. It is a story of any man, dealing with his insecurities in a very broad sense. Watching him struggle to prove himself, on bothpsychological and physical security levels, reveals how universal the feeling of uncertainty is.

The first feature-length film of Marianne Tardieu is done with skill (the fact that the whole film was shot in 25 days has done no harm).

Although my biggest sympathy goes to Reda Kateb, who had almost a fairy tile like resurrection – not every actor gets a chance to play someone beyond the established image, and even fewer do it so well.

Likewise the plot of the film claims that everyone deserves a second and third chance. Or even a fourth – this is how many times Cherif(R. Kateb) has taken the nurse exam. And when he fails you cannot help but feel sorry for him. The profound acting is mesmerising – R. Kateb masterfully embodies a wide range of emotions.Every situation here seems to be an exam for Cheriff, who struggles and often loses his battles against a world ruledmostly by clerks in suits. He is just one of the many standing at the bottom of a social ladder deeply rooted in class and racial tensions.

This simple, urban and honest, yet deep and subtle social realism drama takes place in a poor suburban ghetto of Paris, where there is very little hope and the crime rate is high.The multi-layered story concerns aspects of the immigration problems in France, as well as work relationships, criminal relationships, physical dangers of the poor neighbourhoods and even has some thriller like moments of shootings. Yet the most important is the psychological lineage development of insecurity.

Insecurity seems very personal and intimate topic. Do you have any insecurities as a director?

Yes. If you want to make a film you never know if you are going to finish it. If you make one you are not sure if you will make a second one. And it is always like this, never being sure how you will make your living, but this is good, because total security would be horrible. This kind of insecurity I carry within. Some days I was working as camera assistant and teaching the same day, the next day I’m in front of the commission to speak… Madam the teacher, the trainee, all those different roles in life…

The main role of Reda Kateb seemed as a symbolic resurrection of an actor, who previously played bad roles only. What made you choose him?

It is true. Also this is how French people see second generation immigrants from Algeria.

Usually you let them play bad boy roles only.

As soon as I met Reda Kateb in one shooting I noticed his personality, his smile – very sunny, just as later he acted on the bus with children in my film. I saw the luminous part of Reda and

Raw looks, casual some would say, even scruffy clothing contrast with the strict uniform of a security guard that Cherif is forced to dress.

However, what we wear on the outsidedoes not define who we are on the inside. Just like the protagonist does not feel stronger because of his job title,nor the suit, the juryfails to see the sensitive and kind man within.

The pastel dreamlike colours of the setting and rough characters getting involved in all sorts of crimes are skilfully balanced out with a dosage of rays of optimism. There is some light electro music in the background, the face of a thug lighten up while talking about his kids; a charming school teacher (another brilliant performance by Adele Exarchopoulos). Also a glimpse of a love story, pleasant to watch but slightly undeveloped, or to be more precise,it develops too fast, thus not convincing enough.

The plot is strongly politically charged, but also very well thoughtout. Nothing comes up as an obvious claim, yet the lives of the characters from the French ghettos becomes a statement itself. There are meaningful contrasts and symbols which cleverly intervene within a script, some obvious, other not so much so.

The English title captures it all, as Insecure here has to be gasped on both levels of deep inner fears and external danger.Despite all the mess and darkness depicting the life of an average second generation immigrant suburban setting, the director skilfully avoided all sorts of overdoing. No vulgarities, no blood, not much swearing or sobbing – pious and squeamish viewers may have no fear. Insecure is a good example of how to make a social realism drama without forgetting about good cinematographic manners and good taste.

I knew he could do it very well. Now other people discover him as a good character too.

How do you think French people will react to the film? How you’d like them to react?

I would like them to come, first of all. I had really different reactions depending where the screening was. In Paris people might ask me why I’m not tougher, because they will know what I talk about. But for instance people in La Rochelle are distant from this life –thus I just want them to perceive suburban as normal people, just like us.

Why you think there are so few films on this topic?

Things are changing. It is almost a genre these suburbs movies now, but it is also easy to fall in to cliché. I was trying to avoid the cliché, concentrating on the portrait instead. I think racism is there because of the crisis. One important thing to note - suburban cannot to vote, so no one cares about them.

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review

Macondo

Sudabeh Mortezai, Austria - EFP/ Variety Critics´ Choice section

Films are always a result of a long fight wherein you don’t see the process of the battle. For a feature like Macondo it is very important to know that director Sudabeh Mortezai- who specializes in documentaries- had to make the refugees living in Viennatrust her first. Because the people acting in the film all come for the ghetto, they won’t tell you their story for a simply ice-lolly and some pats on the shoulder.

The more than 20 nationalities who live there, have all fled from conflicts (Yugoslavian War, AfghanistanWar…) out of the severalhornet’s nests that the world had- and still has- to deal with. In Macondo she focuses on Chechen people (who arrived in one of the last waves of refugees) but it could easily been Chileans who named the settlement after a fictional town out of Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude after fleeing from the Pinochet regime.

The young protagonist Ramasan we see mainly footballing on dusty would fields, shopping in supermarkets full off too pricy tempting products, and guiding his single mother who radiates a lot of insecurity. He has be strong, be his own man. The pressure on this kid is enormous. Thus, he has a lot of difficulties on choosing which path he has to walk. The former war friend of his deceased father sprouts out interest in him, the imam wants him to go more to the

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mosque, and his friends support him on sneaking in forbidden work sites; the stimuli are everywhere. Meanwhile, he luckily has the change to be child too. He gets his own knife. Performs tricks on a self-made trampoline with his friends. It gives the audience a very kaleidoscopic image of the environment.

Although the subtly of the dramatic elements may go unnoticed for viewers who ask for more tension, the camerawork gives a lot of energy to the feature as well as the non-professional kid protagonist played by Ramasan Minkailov. Still, the competition from other kid actors such as Thomas Doret- whose character also lost his father- in Belgium The Kid With the Bike and Conner Chapmanwhose role also played out in the overlooked outskirts of the city- in the British The Selfish Giant are stiff competition where he loses from by a inch. That’s not to say this cleverly constructed journey into the heart of Macondo doesn’t deserve your attention.

The film has multiple insights on the world shown on the screen by gracefully prepared travelling’s and a warm feel in the shots. Macondo maybe doesn’t deserve you attention for 100 years, but not even two hours of your time will be quit worth the while.

by Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium)

review

Blind Dates

LevanKoguashvili, Georgia, Ukraine - EFP/ Variety Critics´ Choice section:Europe now!

It might appear asa melancholicversion of «40 year old virgin» first, although what started as a shy double date awkwardness finally evolves in to absurdly complicated drama that can only be explained by Georgian customs and the notion of honour. The school teacher protagonist Sandro still lives with his elderly parents,who are constantly nagging him to find a suitable girl. So, thephlegmaticbachelor vaguely sets on a mission of seeking for a wife.

Despite the attempts to meet women online, the destiny takes the path of mere accidents. Bumping in to his pupil on the beach leads in to a chain of new meetings, romantic endeavours and unexpected adventures.

customs, codes of honour, hot tempered jealousy and very special way of making spontaneous friends. The portraits of conservative contemporary families concerned about their offspring failing to follow the “respectful way” is rather ironical and could check the previous list, except that one thing is missing – the temper. Pastel cinematographic settings and sad or tired of life faces add up. Yet slowly, once the main players are clear and the drama takes the reasonable pace, one can even wake up and get seriously curious to know the upshot. This is one of the rare cases when it really improves towards the end.

Faded greyish colours and the sound of the ball bouncing on the ran down street alongside with a Georgian folk song in the background appear as dull as the first part of the film. The narrative, vague just like a dating scene in Tbilisi, really takes its time to unfold.Struggling to grasp the core thread of the story and often abandoned in the stillness of bleak scene‘s boredom, the viewer will be certain about one thing – the omnipresent melancholy. Meanwhileeven supposedly comic situations appear somewhat in between of teary and tragic – in a good sense. Therefore the theme of impossible love, almost a cinematic trademark of Georgian culture, provides some insights for the outsider of this deeply traditional society.

Therefore, half way through we have almost a double amount of sincerely convincing characters dealing with “it only happens in Georgia” likely situations. Some of those are definitely worth considering the further soap opera adaptations, quite a few of them will evoke smiles and trigger questions: what it takes to be a good person?

Now it all becomes clear – the actual meaning of the title, the blindness of those who are supposed to see and the confidence of the blind. Keep your eyes wide open once the second double date takes place. I suspect the dancing scene is the one to remember for a quite a while. Despite the flaws in timing, it is actually a beautifully sentimental piece, perfect for a lonely Sunday. And it’s better be rainy to match the mood.

No Georgian love story can be told without including strict

by Vaiva Rykstaite (Lithuania) 51

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review

Calvary

John Michael McDonagh, Ireland, UK Variety Critics’ Choice

Calvary immediately throws you in the middle of the lion pit, along with its main character, father James. At confession, he is informed by a man that he will be killed in a week’s time. The man seeks revenge for being abused by a priest in his childhood. His abuser is dead now dead and the confessor had nothing to do with it. In turn, he will have his vengeance by killing a good priest- and father James fits the bill.

McDonagh not only directed, but also wrote the script of his second feature, which orbits around the figure of James. The character is present and active in every scene, he is the motor for it just like he is for the wacky parish in an Irish town. Set in a beautiful sea-side scenery that is often longingly explored by the camera in transition shots, or used as backdrop for the action, it feels more like a village.

Father James would like to have the community life revolve around his church, but the fact is it does so more around the local bar. So he takes his preaching there, to the streets, to the beach, to the houses of his parishioners. They attend Sunday mass, despite being more or less convinced atheists. In the narrative they are types fitted around the central one, the good priest, supporting the weight of his character’s arc: the cynical

doctor, the loose morals wife, her black lover, the overly accepting husband (also the butcher), the old sea farer become writer, the bar owner.

Some of the above don’t necessarily sound like well established and defined types, yet these characters play that function in a deus ex machina structure putting them in and out of the frame and story at precise moments. All this gives a theatrical feel that might not fare well with some viewers, reinforced by the decoupage that follows a precise path- the main character is often in the centre of the frame, key moments being also accentuated by the fact that they eye is forced towards the edge of the screen instead.

Calvary centers on the idea of faith- in God, in other people- putting in perspective the role of the church nowadays without being preachy. Father James is a flawed man, yet a good priest. To the end, Calvary plants the seed of doubt in our minds: does James accept his death as a christian way of ‘turning the other cheek’ or is this just his solution to have his life ended without recurring to a suicide that would go against his faith? In the end, not all types are what they seem to be.

by Mirona Nicola (Romania)

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review

Class Enemy

Rok Bicek, Solvenia - Variety Critics’ Choice: Europe Now!

A film that promises to put Slovenian cinema on the world cinema map, Class Enemy masterfully uses the microcosm of a high school classroom to raise questions about group mentalities, resistance and our impulses to see things in absolutist terms.

Rok Bicek’s debut feature is based on a case that he witnessed as a teenager, where a girl’s suicide led her classmates to ally against a new teacher who is trying to help them cope with the situation.

Shot in a minimalist observational style, the film builds a quiet sense of tension as the measures taken by the students against their teacher become increasingly provocative and the relationships within the student group begin to crumble.

Bicek’s approach to his characters is highly sensitive. He does not encourage us to take sides, but rather allows us to weigh the arguments of each character, to see how their emotions influence their actions. The actors, all non-professionals who were found by Bicek in high schools, provide outstanding performances that offer the film great intensity and authenticity.

The only down-side is the film’s ending, which aims to portray the transformation of the students, but feels slightly out of tune with the rest of the film in its execution; the girl who committed suicide is shown to roam around her classmates on their end-of-year trip to a sentimental effect that is absent in the rest of the film.

While minimalist approaches have been criticized for Class Enemy is groundbreaking in its fresh, socially alienating audiences, this is not the case with Class infused approach to the coming of age theme, a Enemy. The absence of non-diegetic music makes must-see. the ordinary sounds of the classroom, chairs drawing back and chalk on the blackboard, all the more present, drawing us into this microcosm.

by Raluca Petre (Romania)

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review

Catch me Daddy

LevanKoguashvili, Georgia, Ukraine - EFP/ Variety Critics´ Choice section:Europe now!

Sometimes going to the movies is like going for a ride. Some directors will let you drive and let you choose which way to go and what you want to see. Others are want to have total control and show you only what they want you to see. Catch me Daddy belongs to the latter category. While it is definitely a controlled experience, the driver in this case, Daniel Wolfe, certainly knows what he’s doing.

The film/car ride metaphor is very well suited for Wolfe`s debut feature because Catch me Daddy is, as the title suggests, a game of hide and seek with an honor killing twist. A young Pakistani girl has run away from home with her white boyfriend and a gang of relatives and hired white thugs are combing the Yorkshire countryside in search of them.

The film takes it’s time, slowly building up momentum, collecting the characters one by one and skillfully sewing them into the plotline the lonely caravan dwelling retired guy with the cocaine addiction, the dangerous looking very attentive middle eastern father carrying his young daughter, the young interracial couple living in a trailer park. While the audience is busy trying to figure out who all these people are and what brings them together, they are unaware that their ride is building speed.

“I got to do what I love, running”, that was what the main actress answered when asked about her first filming experience. Everybody is running in this film, chasing or being chased, either in a car or on foot, and the physicality of their effort is an important point the film makes. Their fatigue, flushed faces and lack of breath are all transferred to the spectator through a skilled combination of hand held camera, naturalistic acting and lighting and an intense audio score.

Daniel Wolfe has a lot of experience directing music videos and Catch me Daddy stands out as a an unusual combination of realism (most of the actors were street cast, natural setting) and non-diegetic music. Indeed, a car ride is not the same without some music playing in the background, and the director uses the soundtrack in two different ways: as a means for somatic transfer from the character to the spectator, and as a way of enhancing the performance of his, mostly, nonprofessional cast. The music sets the inexperienced cast in the right mood and they manage to deliver complex, strong and very emotional performances.

In the interview, the director talks about how the script was developed over time, the emphasis of dialogue as texture rather than information, working with non-professional actors and how the actual script was shaped on location. In short, improvisation played a major part, but every frame, action, words or audio score, is in the right place, nothing is redundant, contrived or shallow. The reason for this is that Catch me Daddy has a very solid structure.

The structure is shaped and held in place by very smart punctuation techniques that give the film a breathable rhythm. The violent chase is paced by the music, hilarious sequences that work on the principle of comic relief and an almost surrealist animal imagery, matching the various characters to different animals (the sleazy drug dealer has a yellow snake pet for instance).

Wolfe`s masterful editing and choice of music makes the ride highly enjoyable and it feels like it could last for ever. The film does end though, and Wolfe`s choice of brutally throwing the spectator out of the car will certainly split the audience.

by Andrei Sendrea (Romania) 55

review

White Shadow

Noaz Deshez, Italy, Germany, Tanzania - Variety Critics’ Choice: Europe Now!

From a deconstructivist point of view (that is to say, from an audience point of view) White Shadow could by summed as A+A+A. The film tells the story of an adolescent African albino, the triple A mentioned above that add up to triple trouble.

Alias, the young protagonist, is an albino in a community where people like him are ostracized at best. At worst they are extremely valued- valued for their body parts whom witchdoctors sell as good luck talismans. Alias is a poor African boy, he scrapes the city dumping sites for recyclable computer materials. After finding one such treasure he climbs a small heap of waste and yells his fortune to the world “2GB RAM!”.

But most importantly, Alias is an adolescent, a young man in love, still playing childhood games with his much younger albino best friend. This is the most important facet of the character because it binds all the other aspects together and balances all his obvious but exotic hardships with one that hits closer to home for the average viewer: love troubles.

These three qualities of the main hero combine in various modes throughout the story to give the audience a com-

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plete understanding of the inner and outer universe that govern this young man’s life. This is also a great point for the film in terms of honesty towards the viewer and the character. Even in fiction films we are used to see the victims of such atrocities as statistics, fueling our rage and also our impotence. But first time director Noaz Deshez shows the viewer the other side of things, he delivers the social message (“this is real, this happens”) but without the desperation and guilt burdening the audience as they get up from their chairs. And that is not easy, keeping it hardcore real and making the audience laugh in the same film.

White Shadow shows the audience the shadows but also the white. As it happens with the main character at the end of the movie, the audience too gets a choice between these two. For my part, I choose to end this review with this image from the film: Alias the albino and Antoinette, his black love interest, holding each other, brief close-up on their bare feet tangled, a classic shot of two lovers, a cliché really. Now, guess what color their feet are.

by Andrei Sendrea (Romania)

20TH SHORT FILM AND ANIMATION FESTIVAL 16 – 21 SEPTEMBER 2014, BRISTOL, UK GATEWAY TO THE OSCARS®, EUROPEAN FILM AWARDS AND CARTOON D’OR

EMERGING TALENT, INDUSTRY AND AUDIENCES ENCOUNTERS-FESTIVAL.ORG.UK

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Credits Director of Publication Fernando Vasquez (Portugal) Editors Fernando Vasquez (Portugal) Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium) Writers Mirona Nicola (Romania), Raluca Petre (Romania), Vaiva Rykstaite (Lithuania), Andrei Sendrea (Romania), Matthias Van Hijfte (Belgium), Fernando Vasquez (Portugal), Ewa Wildner (Poland).

Photographer Catherine Poueyto (France) Design and Layout Francesca Merlo (Italy) Special Thanks to Tereza Perinova, Jo Mehlberger, Kristina Timmermann and Nikolas Samalekos.

This is a publication of

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With the support of

With the support of the Youth in Action of the European Union. This project has been funded with support from the European Commission. This publication reflects the views only of the author, and the Commission cannot be held responsible for any use which may be made of the information contained therein.

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