Down to the Bone

Dir: Debra Granik

2004

****

I have to say I feel a little sorry for Debra Granik. Her 2004 feature debut should have put her on the map, and it did to some degree, but it will be remembered most for Vera Farmiga’s utterly compelling performance. Her 2010 follow up Winter’s Bone drew huge amounts of praise but again, it was the making of Jennifer Lawrence, rather than herself. I like to think people know her now after the brilliant Leave No Trace but who knows, either way, she’s a phenomenal director who deserves more credit. Visual flare aside, what really makes her a great director is her generosity and the way she allows each actor to flourish. This is why people remember the performances and the actors, rather than her, and its that kind of integrity that the industry needs more of. I’ve never directed a film, so that might sound condescending, but it annoys me because I think artists such as Granik are woefully overlooked, even though they make great film after great film. Down to the Bone tells the tale of Irene Morrison (Vera Farmiga), a working class mother of two boys, who lives in Upstate New York and works as a supermarket cashier. We learn early on that she is keeping a cocaine addiction a secret from her family. Much of the film is fly on the wall family stuff; her eldest son pesters her to buy him a pet snake for his birthday; her husband builds them a second bathroom; the marriage is largely sexless etc. On the night of Halloween, Irene takes her kids trick-or-treating and, at one of the houses they visit, she meets Bob (Hugh Dillon), a nurse, and there is a connection. The next day, Irene takes the kids to a reptile shop to buy a snake, but finds that they don't have enough money for one. While her boys wait in the car, Irene visits her dealer, asking him for another fix, but he refuses since she hasn't been paying for the last couple of weeks. At work, Irene contemplates taking money from the cash register. She then goes back to her dealer with Ben's birthday money given to her from her mother-in-law, but the dealer refuses to take it. We follow her day to day life as she juggles normal life with a clear craving for drugs. At a support meeting about cravings, she meets fellow addict Lucy (Caridad de la Luz), and befriends her. While at the facility, Irene again encounters Bob. Before she leaves, Bob visits with a book that helped him during his quitting phase, and offers her his support. At Irene's first Narcotics Anonymous meeting, a man celebrates one year of abstinence. In the following weeks, Irene finds it difficult to stay clean when her friends use drugs around her. One day at work, she is called into the manager's office. She is told her usual fast work has slowed and she admits her past drug, proclaiming it was the drugs that helped her work so quickly. Her honesty costs her and she is subsequently fired. Lucy suggests they start a cleaning business in order to gain money, to which Irene agrees. On the way to her next NA meeting, Irene offers to give Bob a ride and the pair begin an affair. Bob then takes her to a snake breeder so she can purchase one for Ben. The night the two become intimate, Bob excuses himself to the bathroom. Irene then walks in to find him shooting up. Furious at his hypocrisy, she argues with him, kicks him out but ends up using his drugs and the pair later reconcile. After taking drugs in Bob's car one night, the two are pulled over by the police. They are both arrested and detained when an officer finds a drug burner on the dashboard and a half-ounce of heroin. A lawyer briefs Irene on her best sentencing option: if she pleads guilty, she must commit to 50 individual counselling sessions, 100 group counselling sessions, and 250 NA meetings a year; he informs her that if she screws up, she'll be sentenced to several years incarceration in a state prison. When she arrives home, she admits her affair to Steve, who tells her to move out. Lucy gives her a place to crash, although she's angry with Irene for flaking out on a job. Irene eventually finds herself a house and gets some custody of her kids. After another of Irene's Narcotics meetings, Bob shows up to apologize for getting her caught up in his mess and subsequently avoiding her calls. Irene forgives him and he begins to stay at her house. Meanwhile, Bob is using, but intends to start going to support meetings again. His dealer tries to persuade him to sell some pills, but he refuses. Irene realizes he's been getting high by combining his prescribed methadone and other drugs, and as a result could endanger her kids; she confronts him and silently asks him to leave – the first step, we hope, of her full recovery. It’s a very gritty and realistic drama that shows that there is no glamour to drug addiction and many addicts lead normal lives. Addiction ruins families and relationships and makes bad people of good folk, and this is what Done to the Bone shows perfectly. Stark and powerful, as it should be.

Lemon Tree

Dir: Eran Riklis

2008

*****

Director Eran Riklis had covered personal relationships between Arabs and Middle Eastern Jews in his previous films The Syrian Bride and Cup Final, achieving widespread success in Israel as well as with international audiences. It’s safe to say expectations for his next film were high but when dealing with a story like Lemon Tree, he was always going to upset someone. I think it is an extraordinary film but even though Riklis says its not about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it clearly is and he shouldn’t shy away from the fact. That said, the end message is universal. The story begins when the Israeli Defense Minister Israel Navon (Doron Tavory) moves to a house on the border between Israel and the West Bank, with the building sitting on the Israeli side just next to the dividing line. The Israeli Secret Service views the neighboring lemon grove of Salma Zidane (Hiam Abbass), a Palestinian widow whose family has cared for the area for generations, as a threat to the minister and his wife. The security forces soon set up a guard post and a fence around the grove. They then obtain an order to uproot the lemon trees. Salma feels isolated given that her son has moved to Washington, D.C. and her daughters are now married. The local village elder Abu Kamal (Makram Khoury) advises her to give in, but Salma decides to work with the young lawyer Ziad Daud (Ali Suliman). They take their case all the way to the Supreme Court. All the while Mira Navon (Rona Lipaz-Michael), the minister's wife, sympathizes with Salma as she watches her from over the fence. The court case receives notable media attention, and Mira gives a news interview that her husband regrets. Mira believes that the Israeli military overreacted, and she also shares Salma's sense of personal loneliness. Although they never speak, a complex human bond develops between the two women. As the Palestinian cause is dismissed, Mira decides to leave her husband and a stark concrete wall is built between Salma's land and the Defense Minister's house. A final camera shot reveals the lemon trees have all been pruned. It’s about as devastating a final moment of a film can be. Riklis has said that he designed the film to be essentially apolitical, focusing on character development rather than exploring the issues of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. He has said that he created a 'fairy tale quality' to the film in which the audience can sympathize with all of the people featured in it. He stated that "I wanted to populate this film with a lot of faces and give each character their own moment of grace, even when, on the surface, it's one of the 'bad guys,' so to speak.. ... This film does address the ugly side of occupation perhaps, yet no blood is spilled.” A fictional representation of the Israeli West Bank barrier punctuates the film throughout. While he has a point, the uprooting of the lemon trees feels almost as bad as a death. Your opinion of the film really depends upon your views but I think the viewer should reflect upon the fact that Riklis is Israeli himself. Those who criticised the film the loudest upon its release also claimed the film was too "fem-centric", as well as anti-Israeli and pro-Palestinian. I think that speaks volumes. The truth is, the plot was based on a real life incident. Israeli Defense Minister Shaul Mofaz moved to the border within Israel and the occupied territories and security forces began cutting down the lemon trees beside his house, arguing that it could be used by terrorists as a hiding place. The Palestinian family who owned the trees sued the minister and took the case all the way to the Israeli Supreme Court. They lost, and their trees had to be cut down. Riklis watched a news report about the case online before developing the story further in a fictional setting. It really does make all criticism and accusations of it being anti-Israeli quite absurd, it is essentially a true story. Riklis forges into areas other Israeli filmmakers won't venture and I’m glad he does. Salma and Mira are fictional characters but there are thousands of Salmas and Miras in the middle east, this film is for them. Unsurprisingly, the film did well in Palestine but not so well in Israel. The conflict will go on for a long time, hopefully the Salmas and the Miras will one day be able to communicate and live together, and hopefully there will be some lemons left for them both to enjoy. One day this will be a film people watch in history lessons and they will struggle to understand how the world can be this way, that day can’t come soon enough. Thankfully we have artists and film makers like Riklis who are bold enough to communicate with both sides at risk to himself and his career.

Les combattants (AKA Love at First Fight)

Dir: Thomas Cailley

2014

****

Les Combattants, or Love at First Fight as it is also known, is a touching and rather unexpectedly sweet tale or romance when opposites don’t, and then do attract. I don’t like to generalize but I find that the French always manage to produce a sweeter kind of romance film, ones where the quirky, while very much there, never distract from the chemistry of the couple in question. Les Combattants literally translates as ‘The Fighters’, which goes some way in telling the audience that this isn’t going to be your typical boy meets girl scenario. It is neither conventional or predictable, but it is rather wonderful. The ‘boy’ in this ‘boy meets girl’ tale is Arnaud (Kévin Azaïs), a carpenter in business with his far more enthusiastic brother. He’s easy going, relaxed, mild-mannered..docile even. He takes life in his stride, carpentry doesn’t really seem for him but while he might wonder if he is meant for other things, he certainly isn’t looking. That said, he would never let down his brother. In the opening scene, he and his brother Manu are informed of the passing of their father and the pair set about making a coffin for him, only to be told home-made coffins are not allowed at burials. While visiting a couple who are interested in having a pergola built in their garden, Arnaud is distracted by their daughter Madeleine (Adèle Haenel). Madeleine is strange, determined and almost nihilistic. She is obsessed with mastering the art of extreme survival skill and spends hours holding her breath in her parent’s pool. She is determined to be ready for the end of the world, should it be on the immediate horizon. The pair clash immediately, Arnaud is intrigued but confused by Madeleine’s attitude and Madeleine doesn’t seem to give a damn about anything but her own survival achievements. It is clear however that both are unsure of their futures, while their ways may feel quirky and even a little extreme, they are very much typical teenagers approaching adulthood. Arnaud is strangely drawn to Madeleine and Madeleine does not push him away. When Madeleine declares that she is joining the French Army, Arnaud takes everyone by surprise and joins up too. Madeleine then becomes annoyed, even more so when Arnaud does well in training while she struggles at the bottom of the class. Over time Madeleine realises that her dream is lost, Arnaud is clearly attracted to her but how could she possibly be with someone who only highlights her failures. The behaviour of the two characters is strange but the script is written so beautifully, you realise that actually this is the evolution of what would become a romantic relationship. I’ve never joined the army for love, but I did some strange things in my teenage years, mostly in the pursuit of love. The film then takes a wonderful path of awakening when the pair decide to run away from the camp to live in the woods. There, they flourish, as does their love for each other. Finally Madeleine is surviving how she imagined, catching her own food and sleeping under the stars. It is only when she eats a piece of uncooked squirrel does it all come crashing down. Falling desperately ill, Arnaud carries the unconscious Madeleine to the nearest village, only to discover that it has been evacuated. With ash falling from the sky, it feels that this could actually be the end of the world. It isn’t of course. A nearby fire has caused the village to be evacuated and the pair are found by the army. One wonders whether it was one of their fires that caused it. At the hospital Madeleine realises that she has failed in her mission to become a survival expert, worse than that she was saved by someone with no interest in the subject, a boy no less. However, he could never have saved her without the training he had no interest in and in the forest all they needed was each other, thus, all you really need is love. It’s subtle and quite wonderful. Thomas Cailley’s direction is wonderful, thanks to him and the brilliant performances from Adèle Haenel and Kévin Azaïs, it really did feel like witnessing true young love. You can’t fight it. To find the balance of romantic and quirky is hard, most rom-com are awful because they get either one of both counts wrong but here Cailley gets it spot on, thanks also to his co-writer Claude Le Pape’s excellent screenplay.

Beyond the Hills

Dir: Cristian Mungiu

2012

****

It is quite amazing just how Cristian Mungiu’s 2012 film Beyond the Hills is so subtle but still manages to go for the jugular. The film takes an intelligent swipe at the Romanian Orthodox church and it is interesting to know that the popular musical The Book of Mormon was released around the same time. I find comparing them quite interesting, as they are both worlds apart in structure and tone but they somehow pull off the same trick – one using laughter and the other using tragedy – but both showing the ridiculousness of some religious practices. The story follows two orphaned young women, Voichița and Alina. Alina has come to visit the Romanian Orthodox convent during Lent, where Voichița now lives. Alina had been working in Germany, and it transpires that the two girls were previously roommates at a children's home and had shared a physical relationship. The monastery is led by a 30-year-old Priest who speaks ill of declining faith in Western Europe, citing same-sex marriage, and forbids anyone outside of the faith from entering. He inquires about Alina to Voichița, who tells him Alina irregularly attends church and does not go to confession. They soon urge Alina to begin confessing, especially if she intends to stay. Alina clearly wants to rekindle her relationship with Voichița, but Voichița tells her they must be cautious given it is Lent. Voichița seems tempted, especially when sex is offered but her new way of life has changed her and she makes it her mission to ‘save’ her friend. Both friends try to ‘save’ each other in their own ways but they have grown too far apart. Some time later after Alina has left the convent, Voichița seeks her out, and when she finds her she tells her she is now a nun, that she has chosen to be with God so she will never be alone, and her love of Alina is different from before. Voichița convinces her to return with her to the convent, but Alina asks Voichița that they escape together. Their relationship is clearly deep-rooted and once more they try to save one another. After Voichița refuses, Alina attempts to jump down a well, but is restrained by the nuns and taken to the hospital. There, doctors restrain Alina to prevent her self-harm, after which they send her back to the convent to assist with recovery. There, the nuns read to Alina about sin. Alina begins a ‘Black Fast’, but when the Priest learns of this when Alina is not at the table, they see Alina is attempting to enter the altar to make a wish to the icon they have there. The Priest admits the icon exists, but says entering the altar is a severe sin, and tells the nuns the Devil is in Alina and the convent. Alina is clearly suffering a breakdown as she feels she has lost her friend, partner and lover. Alina remains tied down to a board with chains and towels. The nuns witness a worsening in her condition and take her back to the hospital. There, the hospital staff find Alina is dead on arrival, and observe the wounds on her wrists and ankles from the restraints. The staff tells the nuns this constitutes homicide and threatens to call the police and media. An officer investigates the convent. Seeing the board Alina was tied to, the officer interprets it as a cross. The officer also says forcible restraint leading to death is a homicide. The Priest denies criminal intent, saying the restraints were to prevent self-harm, and invoking the analogy of a parent's right to force children to take medicine, though the officer replies Alina was not a child and the Priest was not her guardian. The nuns also cite Alina's strength as mysterious, but Voichița says Alina studied martial arts. The police take the Priest and the nuns who tied up Alina away, with Voichița choosing to go with them. The screenplay was inspired by two novels by the writer Tatiana Niculescu Bran, documenting the Tanacu exorcism, in which a young member of a monastery in Moldavia died in 2005 after an exorcism ritual. Mungiu was inspired to make the film after seeing the stage version in New York while promoting 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days in 2007. It’s a darker film than Mungiu’s previous work, concentrating on the classic idea of there being two sides to every story. To me this was an atheist film but to someone religious it could mean something else, it basically explores the presence of God and the absence of God, depending on the viewer’s faith. There is a level of ambiguity about it, with all the talk of god, it is really the question of the devil that is at play. I also think that how mental illness is still looked at by many religions is an important subject to explore. The contrast in tone throughout the film is quite unexpected but rather effective. The subjective conclusion was very satisfying, very much a ‘life continues as normal’ outside the happenings of a convent where even the tiniest of events can become exacerbated. Grim and enlightening with a slice of lemon – classic Cristian Mungiu.

Me and You (Io e te)

Dir: Bernardo Bertolucci

2012

***

I found it difficult to watch Me and You and not wonder how this was a film by the same man who bought us such greats such as The Conformist, Last Tango in Paris, 1900 and The Last Emperor. I wasn’t a huge fan of 2003’s The Dreamers either but I had hoped that the last nine years was enough time to give his next project some real thought. I liked the concept, I just think it was totally wasted. It’s a sad looking swansong, that’s for sure. The story is simple: young Lorenzo (Jacopo Olmo Antinori) has difficulties communicating and relating to others – although I don’t think he autistic or anything – he just prefers his own company and his own thoughts. When his class goes to the mountains for a week on a skiing trip, Lorenzo secretly settles in the basement of his apartment building, pocketing the trip’s fee to spend on provisions. However, his happy solitude is interrupted with an unexpected appearance of a strange girl called Olivia (Tea Falco), who turns out to be his half-sister. Olivia, from his father’s first marriage, is nine years older than him and he hasn’t seen in a long time. She asks if his parents are at home, and he pretends not to know, thinking his parents might have asked her to investigate. A short while later he hears someone trying to open the lock to the basement and Olivia enters, looking for something in a box of her old things. She doesn’t find it and leaves in desperation. In the middle of the night she returns, knocking on the window and asking Lorenzo if she can stay the night. At first he refuses categorically, but when she threatens to tell everyone he is there, he backs down. This turns out to be useful, since his mother calls again, more insistent than ever that she needs to speak to a teacher, and he persuades Olivia to pretend to be one. It turns out, though, that Olivia has become a drug addict and is suffering from withdrawal from heroin, and this is why she’s in a desperate situation. She asks him for some sleeping pills. The only place he can think of getting them is from his grandmother (Veronica Lazar) who is dying in hospital. He visits her and finds the pills in her handbag, but ends up spending much longer at the hospital than intended when his grandmother wakes up and asks him to tell her a story. Once back in the basement, Lorenzo finds Olivia passed out, almost dead. During his absence she has rummaged through all the boxes and found and taken some sleeping pills. She sleeps solidly for three days. By the end of the week, the relationship between Lorenzo and Olivia has changed from hostility to complicity, since they both feel rejected by society, both have secrets, and both feel understood, without judgement, by the other. Olivia promises not to use drugs anymore and they both promise to stay in touch. On the last morning Lorenzo awakes to find a note Olivia has left, reminding him of their mutual promise. I don’t want to speak ill of Bernardo Bertolucci, he was a great director and I really admire that he made Me and You so late in his career, especially in relatively bad health, but I don’t think there was enough of him in the story. His greatest films are the ones where he has thrown himself into the picture, this film feels like someone else’s, Niccolò Ammaniti’s. I actually think that the two leads give great performances and the direction itself is adequate, I just don’t think the film worked as a whole. I think I would have preferred more static shots, with the odd contrasting moving sequence. The dialogue was also lacking, indeed, a really good script could have lifted the film no end. I did like the interjection of music and I could really relate to it at times, I just couldn’t connect with the characters. I think it all happened a little too fast and as well performed as Olivia was, I’m not sure I ever truly believed she existed. I think the difference between the original script and what was actually filmed was the biggest let down. I feel that a bold conclusion was softened for a wider audience, a decision that I feel backfired spectacularly. It’s a firework without ignition, it’s all there ready to explode but nothing ends up lighting it and even if a light was found, towards the end the wick becomes far to damp to ignite anyway. I’m being perhaps overly harsh, but this is the great Bernardo Bertolucci, it should have been a masterpiece. Like I said, it’s tragic that this was to be his last film and it’s not without its magic, it just makes me sad on several different levels is all.

Of Gods and Men

Dir: Xavier Beauvois

2010

****

Xavier Beauvois’ 2010 drama Of Gods and Men tells the tragic true story of The Monks of Tibhirine. In 1996, seven French Trappist monks from the monastery of Tibhirine, Algeria, were kidnapped and found beheaded. The Armed Islamic Group of Algeria claimed full responsibility for the incident. However, according to documents from French secret services, it is possible that the killings were a mistake carried out by the Algerian army during a rescue attempt. The film is in part an adaptation of John W. Kiser's 2002 book The Monks of Tibhirine: Faith, Love, and Terror in Algeria. The film opens with a quotation from the Book of Psalms, Psalm 82:6–7: "I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High. But ye shall die like men, and fall like one of the princes." We then follow the monks' peaceful routine of prayer which is repeated throughout the film. The character development is strong as we follow the monks as they eat and talk together while providing medical assistance to the local community. Their interaction with the community is soon interrupted however by the threat of an Islamic fundamentalist group. When their elected leader, Christian (Lambert Wilson), declines the protection of the corrupt civil authority, the monks divide among themselves on the question of whether to stay or flee Algeria. Before a decision is reached, a group of fundamentalists, led by Ali Fayattia, enters the monks' compound in force on Christmas Eve and demands their doctor and his medical supplies. Christian refuses their requests and cites the Quran as proof of the monks' goodwill. With a mixture of surprise and respect, Fayattia leaves the compound and grants it his protection until his capture, torture and death at the hands of government forces. Despite the growing danger, the monks come to consensus on the moral importance of maintaining their committed lives with, and ministry to, the local population, even when faced with violence and death. Ultimately, the terrorists seize most of the monks during a nighttime raid and hold them hostage. As the captive monks trudge a snowy path towards a grim fate, the film concludes with the spiritual testament of Prior Christian de Chergé, bravely written in the face of death. The surviving two monks of Tibhirine left Algeria and traveled to a Trappist monastery near Midelt in Morocco. The murdered monks were Dom Christian de Chergé, Brother Luc (born Paul Dochier), Father Christophe (Lebreton), Brother Michel (Fleury), Father Bruno (born Christian Lemarchand), Father Célestin (Ringeard), and Brother Paul (Favre-Miville). The film project was initiated by Etienne Comar in 2006, when the tenth anniversary of the incident made it a topic again in French media. Comar, a film producer by profession and a Catholic, had been fascinated by the monks since the earliest news of the abduction, but felt that their death had overshadowed what he thought was really interesting - why they had decided to stay in Algeria despite the ongoing Algerian Civil War. Comar contacted Xavier Beauvois in 2008 after having written a draft, and together they continued to work on the screenplay. The two researched, met with theologians, and during a break Beauvois chose to live for six days at the Tamié Abbey in Savoie – something he later requested the actors who played the monks to do before filming begun. Some inspiration was taken from writings by two of the Tibhirine monks, Christian de Chergé and Christophe Lebreton. Franco-American monastic consultant Henry Quinson was asked to correct and add historical and liturgical content for further authenticity. The script was later sent to relatives of the deceased monks, most of whom reacted positively to the project. The financing coincided with the revelation of the Algerian army's possible involvement in the incident, which once again sparked an interest for the story from media and the public. Xavier Beauvois clearly made every attempt at telling the story with the utmost respect and handled the story with great care. As preparation for their roles, François Polgar, the former assistant director of the choir of the Paris Opera, former director of Le Chœur de Radio France and director of The Paris Boys Choir, trained the actors who were to play monks for a month in the Cistercian and Gregorian chants. The cast is impressive and represents the crème de la crème of French cinema. Each actor spent a week living as a monk at the Tamié Abbey. The actors used different approaches to their individual roles. Lambert Wilson primarily used Christian de Chergé's writings to develop a subjective perception of the monk's personality. Xavier Maly, a non-Catholic, prepared himself by praying every day for a month. Jean-Marie Frin based his interpretation partially on a home video from Paul Favre-Miville's vow. Michael Lonsdale on the other hand preferred to rely on instinct, and did not prepare much at all. Each technique worked and the characters felt real and their conversations and their prayer are totally believable. The attention to detail is astonishing. The main filming location was the Benedictine monastery of Toumliline, which had stood unused and unattended for more than forty years. The film team, under production designer Michel Barthélémy, renovated the monastery so it would resemble the location of the actual events. Quinson who had assisted with the screenplay was also present on the set as an adviser. Attention was paid to extras' clothing and Arabic intonation so that they would look and sound Algerian and not Moroccan. I love that nothing is done for artistic effect and that there is no emotional manipulation. It’s an emotional film for sure but it is handled tactfully and tastefully. It’s still a mystery what actually happened to the Monks but it really isn’t the point of the story, what made them stay is and is what gives us inspiration and food for thought, and Beauvois and his fellow film makers couldn’t have conveyed this any more perfectly than they did.

Neighboring Sounds

Dir: Kleber Mendonça Filho

2012

*****

Neighboring Sounds is the astounding debut feature from writer/director Kleber Mendonça Filho. It’s a film that doesn’t quite state it’s intentions until the very end, and even then I’m not sure it does. Just as I settled into the story the whole style of it changed and, although subtle, it became one of the most original films of the decade so far. The story has so many hidden layers I’m still not sure I got all of them but this very simple film is an excellent exploration of society, looking at the old ways as well as sounding echos from the future. The fact that it only took six weeks to shoot but over two years to edit shows just how much thought and meaning went into the final production. It is a slice of modern Brazil but the truths relate to everywhere in our modern climate of change. What starts out as a very simple drama following a couple of residents of a Brazilian street, soon turns into an existential journey of fear and paranoia but without descending into horror or cheap thriller territory. The film has a constant sound of dogs barking, the hum of a refrigerator, music blasting from a street vendor’s stereo, the distant noise of a hundred televisions and the vibrations of a dozen early morning vacuum cleaners. It is visually captivating from start to finish, even in the most ordinary of scenes. We flash through the lives of several of the residents but the invisible main character of the film is the ever present feeling of existential anxiety that permeates each and every sub-story. There is a sense of inevitable doom that is so subtle, it’s almost impossible to put one’s finger on. Unlike many typical Brazilian films, Neighboring Sounds is not about life in the favelas or about gangsters or drug gangs, but about the uneasy divide between the growing middle-classes and the working class living side-by-side in a crowded urban setting. Compositions are framed behind fences and closed doors to suggest maximum isolation, a suggestion that in today's Brazilian urban areas, a melting pot is built out of necessity, not out of choice. There is an element of limo to the street where young and old clash regularly with very few mediators. The opening shot shows old photos of workers in a sugarcane plantation who would have lived there originally. This is cut down in contrast as a shot of a young girl on rollerblades glides past a row of brand new apartments. From there on unfold a series of small incidents that convey an atmosphere of encroaching claustrophobia. Bia, a married mother of two, is driven mad by the constant barking and howling of her neighbour’s dog and sets about poisoning it while keeping it secret from her suspecting children, setting the tone of the entire film. João, the closest character the film has to a protagonist, is caught naked in his living room with Sofia by the arriving housemaid Maria who makes light of the incident, engaging in conversation with João and Sofia in the confining space of his kitchen. The block is run by the local "don," Francisco a wealthy landlord with a questionable past. João is Francisco's grandson, a real estate agent for the family who own many of the new buildings in the street. On leaving João’s apartment, Sofia realises that her car has been broken into and her stereo has been stolen. The arrival of a rather pushy independent private security firm the same day as the theft is suspicious but João immediately suspects his cousin Dinho, a lazy petty criminal who lives in the shadow and protection of his grandfather. João hires the security patrol manned by Clodoaldo to oversee the neighborhood's safety. The residents of the block are relatively wealthy, so they feel they need more security but even then, they do not feel safe in a country where there is a large disparity between rich and poor. The security patrol is ostensibly there to ensure the neighbor's safety, but accomplishes the very opposite when their true motives are revealed. All the while João contemplates his role there, after living abroad for many years before. Over time Sofia quietly accompanies him as the sense of anxious dread becomes more apparent. What seems to be disconnected and inconsequential is put together like a jigsaw puzzle that leads brilliantly to the films final scene. It gets a little fantastical towards the end which I absolutely adore but many of the film’s core scenes come from simple lines of dialogue and unique situations. The waterfall scene where it is suggested that Francisco is in fact the devil is wonderful but it doesn’t quite hit the gut as the scene whereby João is trying to sell an apartment of a recently deceased suicide. It transpires that the previous occupant jumped several stories to their death from the beautiful balcony with a view. It is easy to enjoy the visuals and be entertained by the colourful characters but there is no escape from the sense of inevitability, like something negative is being foreshadowed. It’s an absolute masterstroke to achieve this mood from the very ordinary. Those two years of editing were clearly used wisely. It’s not short of a masterpiece.

Father of My Children

Dir: Mia Hansen-Løve

2009

****

Mia Hansen-Løve’s 2009 drama is two things. On one side its an intriguing look at incredible defiance in the face of tragedy and on the other it’s a helpless, but not at all demoralizing, look at how life is so often out of our hands. It’s a tragic tale, where all hope is dashed away, and yet, it isn’t in the least bit disheartening or coldly matter of fact. It’s sad but there is a weird positivity about it that I just can’t put my finger on. It’s a remarkable film, and without wanting to sound patronizing, it’s even more remarkable that it was directed by twenty-seven year old. However, as profound as the film is, Mia Hansen-Løve is part of the story, the story being true. It is in part based on the death of Humbert Jean René Balsan, a French film producer and chairman of the European Film Academy. He was known for securing financing and distribution for diverse and often challenging films. In February 2005, Balsan was found dead in the offices of his production company, Ognon Pictures, in Paris. He was known to have suffered from depression, and sadly hung himself. In this fictional version of the story, we follow Grégoire Canvel (Louis-Do de Lencquesaing) who is a French film producer and chairman of his own film company. Despite his luxurious country home, apartment in Paris and film company he is drowning in debt. We follow Grégoire as he continues to take on more work despite his slate of current films continuing to rack up costs and as he goes home to his family at the weekend, never showing them the situation he is in. For the first half of the film we see his denial but also feel that he’s the sort of person who could probably turn things around. However, upon learning that he is 4 million euros in debt and that his catalogue of films, that is already mortgaged, is only worth less than a million euros, and that his bank refuses to extend him any more credit, he burns his bills and then promptly shoots himself in the street. It’s quite the surprise if you’re not expecting it. In the wake of his death his wife Sylvia attempts to honour her husband's memory by completing the work currently in production. However her attempts fail and she is forced to liquidate the company. Meanwhile, while waiting for her mother outside of the production office, Grégoire and Sylvia's eldest daughter, Clémence (Alice de Lencquesaing), overhears people talking about her father and how he led a double life and had a son from whom he was estranged. While Sylvia is in Sweden trying to secure funding for one of Grégoire's last films, Clémence digs through her fathers papers and discovers he did have a son named Moune to whom he sent money. Though she meets with Moune's mother, Isabelle, she ultimately does not meet Moune himself. On the day the company is dissolved, Sylvia and her three daughters go to Grégoire's office one final time. Afterwards they leave Paris and though Clémence had wanted to visit her father's grave in order to say goodbye, her mother tells her there is simply no time. In the backseat of the car Clémence begins to cry as they pass through the city. In real life, Donna Balsan, who, for all her grief, did her utmost to save Ognon Pictures, but also failed to raise enough funds. I have no idea whether the part of the story involving Grégoire’s secret son was true, but Balsan had three kids and not two, so I suspect it isn’t. What the scenes involving Grégoire’s daughters does is, while being sympathetic, remind us just what happens to those left behind after a suicide. Grégoire’s inability to share his concerns for not wanting to cause concern is also highlighted, again, acting as a sympathetic warning to those thinking of taking their own lives and for those close to people who suspect a friend or loved one is going through a tough time. Hansen-Løve met Humbert Balsan after she had made her first short film and he had originally intended to produce her first film All Is Forgiven before he committed suicide. She cast her cousin Igor Hansen-Løve in the role of Arthur Malkavian, a young screen writer whose film Grégoire wants to produce, giving him an experience similar to her own. It’s an honest tribute, not just to Balsan who was greatly admired, but also to his wife and children who carried on after his departure. The troublesome Swedish director in the film is based on Hungarian director Bela Tarr, who Balsan had trouble with at the time of his death. The important thing that Hansen-Løve addresses though, is that Balsan was a good person, a loving husband and loving father. There is no morbid delight in the evocation of death, instead, this is a look at the essence of one’s soul and how we should not judge a life based on one small mistake. It’s a film that goes against what we’ve come to expect from such subjects and there is something rather profound in its focus ans simplicity. It’s very touching and respectful as well as balanced and refined. The performances, particularly from Louis-Do de Lencquesaing, Chiara Caselli and Alice de Lencquesaing are perfect and there is visual flare here that is beautiful but it never distracts from the story. It’s a profound gem of a movie.

Odette

Dir: Herbert Wilcox

1950

*****

Odette is a 1950 British war film based on Jerrard Tickell's Odette: The Story of a British Agent, which tells the true story of French-born Special Operations Executive agent Odette Sansom, who was captured by the Germans in 1943, condemned to death and sent to Ravensbrück concentration camp to be executed. However, against all odds she survived the war and testified against the prison guards at the Hamburg Ravensbrück trials. She was awarded the George Cross in 1946, the first woman ever to receive the award and the only woman who has been awarded it while still alive. The film was directed by Herbert Wilcox and jointly produced by he and his wife Anna Neagle. Neagle was originally reluctant to play the role so Wilcox offered it to Michèle Morgan and Ingrid Bergman, both of whom turned it down. Eventually when the real Odette suggested Neagle play her, Neagle agreed. Both Odette Sansom (by then Odette Churchill) and Peter Churchill served as technical advisors during the filming, and the film ends with a touching written message from Odette herself. Both Odette and and Anna Neagle spent considerable time in France, visiting locales associated with the story. Odette later said that Neagle "was absolutely into it. In fact it took one year after the end of the film to get back to normal, she was more upset by doing that film than I was reliving the experience." Odette said that she lobbied intensely for the film not to be made in Hollywood, for fear that it would be fictionalised, and that she was pleased by the result. Personally I found the start of the film to be rather stifled but it soon found it pace. In response to a radio broadcast request for photographs of France, mother of three Odette Sansom sends a letter to the Admiralty, but an addressing mistake brings her to the attention of the Special Operations Executive, who need French people to go back to their homeland as espionage agents. She completes her training in September 1942 and is sent to France. She travels to Cannes, where she is met by Captain Peter Churchill (Trevor Howard), her superior. She also meets "Arnauld" (Adolphe Rabinovitch – played by Peter Ustinov), another agent. Her first assignment is to go to Marseilles to pick up plans for the docks there. Barely warned in time of a raid organized by Abwehr Oberst "Henri" (Hugo Bleicher), Odette, Peter and Arnauld are forced to relocate to St. Jorioz, where they rendezvous with Jacques. Learning of the Maquis, Peter requests arms, medicines, etc. for them. He is then recalled to London. A large airdrop of supplies is arranged. Later, however, Henri contacts Odette. From a captured agent, he has learned all about Odette's network. He claims that he and others disaffected with Hitler wish to make contact with the British. However, she suspects otherwise and orders the other agents to disperse. Then she and Arnauld wait for Peter's return by parachute drop. However, she and Peter are captured by Henri and eventually taken to Fresnes Prison, near Paris. Arnauld was away when the hotel where they were staying was raided so avoided capture. Odette is tortured by the Gestapo, but does not break and is sentenced to death. An apologetic Henri visits her; at her request, he arranges for her to see Peter one last time, though she hides her fate from him. She is then taken to Ravensbrück concentration camp on 26 July 1944 and immediately placed in solitary confinement. The Germans believe Odette's lies about Peter, that he is related to Winston Churchill and that she was the brains of the network, while he was a playboy dilettante, and he is merely imprisoned. With Germany invaded and collapsing, on 16 April 1945, the camp commandant is ordered to execute his prisoners, but he orders a subordinate to see to Odette's safety. When the inmates learn that Hitler is dead, they riot. A guard comes for Odette and she believes she is to be executed, but the commandant instead takes her to the advancing Americans, believing another of her lies, that she is Peter's wife and therefore related to the British Prime Minister. Back in England, Odette contacts her children, explaining that she is no longer working away and will be home with them shortly. In a rather teary and heartwarming scene, she is finally reunited with Peter. The end of the film contains a title card saying as follows: "It is with a sense of deep humility that I allow my personal story to be told. I am a very ordinary woman to whom a chance was given to see human beings at their best and at their worst. I knew kindness as well as cruelty, understanding as well as brutality. My comrades, who did far more than I and suffered far more profoundly, are not here to speak. It is to their memory that this film has been made and I would like it to be a window through which may be seen those very gallant women with whom I had the honour to serve." - Odette Churchill.

The film is exciting and full of suspense and ends with a beautifully touching scene. The personal message by the real Odette comes as a heartwarming but sharp reminder, that all of this is true, as unbelievable as it seems all these years later. Anna Neagle and Trevor Howard are perfect together and Peter Ustinov is brilliant in his supporting role. It’s an important Second World War film in that it deals with the very personal risk of a few, rather than the guns-blazing action films that would follow. It is a wonderful tribute and an accurate telling of a true story – sadly a rarity within the genre.

Alexandra

Dir: Alexander Sokurov

2007

***

Alexander Sokurov’s subtle critic of the Chechen War is a deep meditation that really works over time. I can’t say I was that enamored by it while I was watching it but days later it still had me thinking and pondering its intention. It’s a difficult film and one that follows its own pace. I wouldn’t quite compare it to Tarkovsky but Sokurov certainly has found an otherworldly way of looking a people and situations and somehow makes the horror of war seem a little like a dream. We follow Aleksandra Nikolaevna after she is invited by her grandson, Denis, a senior lieutenant in the Russian Army, to visit his military base in Chechnya. Her journey is aided by soldiers who have been ordered to be her escorts. But it is a lawless land; the two young happy-go-lucky conscripts who assist Nikolaevna on to an armoured train are assailed shortly after saying goodbye at the station. On arrival at the army camp, Aleksandra is taken to her grandson's platoon area and told to wait but she refuses to sit inside the tents because of the sweltering summer heat. Wandering around, she meets and interacts with the young soldiers on the base. Many are standoffish at first but soon, after she shares some pies, some begin to talk to her. She returns to the tents to find Denis had returned. They hug and exchange pleasantries. Later Aleksandra meets her grandson's commanding officer who shows her around the base; he also questions her as to her reasons for visiting. He explains that Denis is a good officer but the request asking for permission for his grandmother to visit was bemusing. The next day she decides to leave the cantonments and visit the local market despite the reservations of the soldiers on guard duty. Nevertheless, she insists on going so they then ask her to get cigarettes and biscuits. In the town she discovers that many of the locals are hostile towards her because she is Russian. However she soon starts talking to an elderly Chechen woman named Malika who explains she was a teacher before the war. The local lady explains that many of the young people have been irreparably changed by the fighting. Malika gives Aleksandra some cigarettes and biscuits before inviting her back to her war-ravaged apartment where they drink tea and talk. Aleksandra thanks Malika and promises to return and pay her for the supplies. A local boy is then asked to take Aleksandra back to the Russian army camp. Although initially aggressive to her because she is a Russian, his attitude softens when she tells him that people should not be labelled together and that intelligence is more powerful than war. On arrival back at base, Aleksandra distributes the cigarettes and biscuits among the soldiers. Some then take her to a mess where she is given a hot meal. Aleksandra then returns to Denis' quarters where she finds her grandson mulling over his life in the army after he had to strike a soldier for disobeying him. After talking about their lives, Denis soon brightens up and plaits his grandmother's hair while she promises to find him a wife. The next day, Aleksandra is woken up by Denis who tells her she has to leave now because he and his men are going on a five-day mission. Slowly the elderly lady gathers her things before making one last walk through the camp saying goodbye to the soldiers she met. At the gate, she says goodbye to Denis as he climbs onto an armoured vehicle and to his commanding officer who silently acknowledges the good her trip has done to her grandson and the men under his command. Aleksandra then walks back to town where she meets Malika and her local friends. Refusing to take any money for the cigarettes and biscuits, the group walk Aleksandra back to the armoured train. Aleksandra gives Malika her address asking her to come and visit her in Russia. She then boards a rolling car. The train moves off with Aleksandra waving from the doorway. With the train's departure, Malika turns and walks away with a grim expression. Aleksandra rides along looking out across the desolate empty fields of Chechnya. It’s hard to know what it all means, or if it even happened. It certainly feels dreamlike and desolate, like it was something imagined by a lost soul – perhaps Denis at war, or maybe even Aleksandra at home. It feels as if Denis is remembering his grandmother and letting her go, or maybe Aleksandra is dying at home, thinking about her grandson. Either way, it feels like a goodbye. As I was watching I felt nothing but frustration though, as it wasn’t clear what was happening. It is only after a few days thinking about it, does it have me wondering whether it was as simple as it first appeared. If it was in fact real and not a dream, I can appreciate the point of view of an older person and appreciate the anti-war message, but there must be more to it than that. For once it is entirely up to the audience to ponder.

The Golden Dream

Dir: Diego Quemada-Diez

2013

*****

Diego Quemada-Diez is better known for his work as a cinematographer, The Golden Dream is his feature debut as a director, and what a debut it was. The film shares its title with the 1983 song by Mexican-born Enrique Franco, who sung about the challenges of US immigration. There was a similar film made in 1987 that also took inspiration from Franco’s song that was about a successful and middle-aged Mexican immigrant. Quemada-Diez’s film on the other hand deals with younger, undocumented immigrants in the here and now. A very different story and one with a brutally real unhappy ending. Samuel (Carlos Chajon), Sara (Karen Noemí Martínez Pineda) and Juan (Brandon López), three teenagers from Guatemala, decide to leave poverty by going to the United States. After crossing the Mexican border by boat, they find another immigrant, a Tzotzil native called Chauk (Rodolfo Domínguez) who does not know Spanish but is able to befriend Sara. When they arrive in the town of Chiapas, they busk for money to eat and drink but are later caught by Mexican Immigration Police agents, who steal Juan's boots and threaten Chauk with a gun, before deporting all of them back to Guatemala. They are deposited by the border to Mexico and so they are able to easily find a way back across it, but at this point Samuel decides to stay in Guatemala as he feels the risks just aren’t worth it. Juan dislikes the idea of going with Chauk after taking an instant dislike to him, but Sara forces him to go on with him and the three continue on the road to the north. While riding on a train to northern Mexico, the train is stopped by the Mexican Army who attempt to capture the immigrants. The trio manage to escape and are offered refuge and work by a nearby sugar-cane farmer. During a party at the plantation, the three of them drink and dance until Sara and Juan begin kissing, and end up leaving Chauk alone. The next morning Chauk feels betrayed by Sara, but decides to remain with them and continue the ride to the north. During the trip, they are detained by drug traffickers, who steal the belongings of the passengers and kidnap the females. Sara, who has dressed as a boy the entire journey, is soon recognized as a girl and is taken by the traffickers. When Juan and Chauk resist and try to help Sara both are beaten and knocked unconscious. Chauk wakes up and tends to Juan's injuries. When Juan recovers, both recognize that they can do nothing for Sara and decide to continue their voyage to the north. During the next train ride, they meet a teenager from Guatemala that offers them jobs, but in reality it is just a trick and the boy delivers them into the hands of a group of criminals. When the leader learns that Juan is from his same hometown, Juan is released. Juan later returns and offers the leader the American Dollars he had saved before the journey, in order to free Chauk. His offer is accepted but at a huge risk and they both flee as quickly as they can. Juan and Chauk finally arrive in Mexicali, where they get help from a group of immigrant traffickers to cross the border between Mexico and United States. The traffickers take the boys across the border but leave the two on their own in the desert. They’ve made it. However, immigrant hunters are hiding in the hills and Chauk is shot dead by a sniper. Juan runs for his life and arrives in an alien world, without the happiness he thought he would feel. He soon gets a job in a meat factory with many other immigrants. The movie ends with Juan looking up at snow falling in the night sky, he remembers a conversation Chauk tried to have with him during their journey (they spoke different languages and did not understand each other) and he realises that Chauk had wanted to come north to see snow for the first time. It’s heart-rending but life-affirming stuff. I think the fact that Diego Quemada-Diez worked so long as a cinematographer he knew the importance of the journey. We travel the hundreds of miles with the four friends, the film is long because it needs to show each and every dusty road and every single rail track along the way. The film isn’t political, it merely shows the very real risks involved that poor people endure in want for a better life. It’s not a greed that fuels these people but access to a just and fair life. It makes you wonder if the life is that much better, whether the golden dream is actually that golden. The heart-breaking element of the film is that much of what happens is based on several true incidents. The American dream seems to only work for those who already had it, those who never had to dream of it in the first place thanks to their elders who were also immigrants. The hypocrisy still sickens me. Diego Quemada-Diez’s film is beautiful and as brutal as it needed to be. The four young actors are superb and the film is a masterpiece, but it is also so much more than that. It is a must see film, something that should be shown in schools and the sort of film angry old white men will tell you is wrong – which should tell you the opposite.

Sabrina

Dir: Billy Wilder

1954

****

The goings on behind the scenes are just as famous as the film itself in Billy Wilder’s 1954 romantic classic Sabrina. The lead actor hated everyone, the other two leads fell in love and had an affair and the director, who would end a 12-year business relationship with the studio after the film’s release, was so up against it, he asked the actors to fake sickness so he’d have a chance to catch up. Sabrina is a bonafide classic but one wonders whether it could have been better with one or two slight changes. Sabrina Fairchild (Audrey Hepburn) is the young daughter of the Larrabee family's chauffeur, Thomas (John Williams), and has been in love with David Larrabee (William Holden) all her life. David is a three-times-married playboy who has never paid attention to Sabrina because to him she was still a child. Eavesdropping on a party at the Larrabee mansion, as she has often done before, Sabrina notices David enticing yet another woman. Distraught, she leaves her father a suicide note and starts every car in the garage so as to kill herself. Instead she is interrupted by David's older brother, Linus (Humphrey Bogart), who escorts her back to her quarters above the garage. Sabrina had been on the point of sailing for France, where she is to attend a culinary school in Paris. After two years there, she returns home as an attractive and sophisticated woman. When her father is delayed from picking her up at the station, David offers her a lift instead without even knowing it is Sabrina. Once David realizes who she is, he is quickly drawn to Sabrina and invites her to join him at a party at the mansion. When Linus sees this, he fears that David's imminent marriage to Elizabeth Tyson may be endangered. If the engagement is broken, it would ruin a profitable opportunity for a great corporate merger between Larrabee Industries and Elizabeth's very wealthy father's business. Instead of confronting David about his irresponsibility, Linus pretends to sympathise with him and in a moment of inattention David sits down on champagne glasses he has placed in his pockets, so that he is incapacitated for a few days. Linus now takes David’s place with Sabrina on the pretext that “it’s all in the family” until both fall in love, although neither will admit it. In fact Linus’ plan is to pretend to be accompanying Sabrina back to Paris but not to join her on the liner. However, when he reveals his intention to Sabrina instead, she agrees to leave the next day and never come back. The following morning, Linus has second thoughts and decides to send David to Paris with Sabrina. This means calling off David's wedding with Elizabeth and the big Tyson deal, and he schedules a meeting of the Larrabee board to announce this. However, David enters the room at the last minute and declares that he has decided to marry Elizabeth after all. David helps Linus recognize his own feelings for Sabrina and assists him in rushing off to join Sabrina's ship before it leaves harbor. Linus and Sabrina meet on board and sail away together. The story is flawed way before the film is. I hate how suicide has been so poorly handled in love stories. You have to go back to Romeo & Juliet to find its origins but since then, particularly in older films of the 40s and 50s, it has been used out of context and in a irresponsible manner. We look back at films like Sabrina and comment on the love story without once questioning Sabrina’s mental state or the actions of the two brothers. Everything about it, when you really think about it, is deplorable and not romantic at all. It’s horrific really, but Hepburn’s eyes, Holden’s charm and Bogart’s voice somehow make people overlook such things. I like the film because I like watching Bogart, Hepburn and Holden, not because I like either the story or the characters. Initially, Cary Grant was considered for the role of Linus, but he declined, supposedly because he did not want to carry an umbrella onscreen but I don’t know how true that really is. The role was taken by Bogart. Best known for playing tough detectives and adventurers, Bogart was cast against type as a smart businessman gradually transformed into a romantic lead. He was something of a last minute replacement and he knew, just like everyone else did, that he wasn’t really right for the part. He was very unhappy during the filming, convinced that he was totally wrong for this kind of film, mad at not being Wilder's first choice, and not liking Holden or Billy Wilder. Bogart also disapproved of Audrey Hepburn and he wanted his wife Lauren Bacall in the role. Asked how he liked working with Hepburn, Bogart replied: "It's OK, if you don't mind to make a dozen takes." During production of the film, Hepburn and Holden entered into a brief but passionate and much-publicized love affair but Hepburn called it off once she learned that Holden couldn’t bare children. Bogart later apologized to Wilder for his behavior on set, citing problems in his personal life but by that time the stories were infamous. Wilder began shooting before the script was even finished, and Lehman was writing all day to complete it. Eventually he would finish a scene in the morning, deliver it during lunch, and filming of it would begin in the afternoon. Considering the film’s many problems, the final result is pretty miraculous. For all of the problems the film though, I do find it funny just how many times Wilder managed to mention the play The Seven Year Itch – the next film project with a new studio. The reality is that the film isn’t as special as all that but it is, and always will be, a joy to watch the four giant film makers at work.

Gilda

Dir: Charles Vidor

1946

*****

When most people think of Charles Vidor’s 1946 noir thriller they think of Rita Hayworth flicking her hair back and dancing along to ‘Put the Blame on Mame’. Fair enough, it was an iconic character with a performance to match, but I’ve always thought the best thing about Gilda was Glenn Ford. He is the one that always drew my attention, clearly keen to get back into acting after serving three years in the navy during the Second World War. Still, you can’t argue with Hayworth’s ultimate femme fatale, the character has gone on to inspire many an actor, writer and director from the likes of Jessica Rabbit, The Spice Girls, The Shawshank Redemption and an atomic bomb. Johnny Farrell (Glenn Ford), a small-time American gambler newly arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina, wins a lot of money cheating at craps, and has to be rescued from a robbery attempt by a complete stranger, Ballin Mundson (the brilliant George Macready). Mundson tells him about an illegal high-class casino, but warns him not to practice his skills there. Farrell ignores his advice, cheats at blackjack, and is taken by two men to see the casino's owner, who turns out to be Mundson himself. Farrell talks Mundson into hiring him and quickly gains his confidence. However, the unimpressed washroom attendant, Uncle Pio (Steven Geray), keeps calling him "Mr. Peasant". Mundson decides to take a trip and leaves Farrell in charge for while and he excels at the opportunity. When Mundson returns from his trip he does so with a beautiful and spirited young woman - his new wife, Gilda (Rita Hayworth). It is immediately apparent that Johnny and Gilda once had a romance that ended badly, though both deny it when Mundson questions them. Johnny visits Gilda alone in the bedroom she shares with her husband, and the two have an explosive confrontation. While it is unclear just how much Mundson knows of Gilda and Johnny's past relationship, he appears to be in ignorance when he assigns Farrell to keep an eye on Gilda. Johnny and Gilda are both consumed with their hatred of each other, as Gilda cavorts with men at all hours in increasingly more blatant efforts to enrage Johnny, and he grows more abusive and spiteful in his treatment of her. Mundson is visited by two German businessmen. Their secret organization had financed a tungsten cartel, with everything put in Mundson's name in order to hide their connection to it. However, when they decide that it is safe to take over the cartel after the end of World War II, Mundson refuses to transfer his ownership of it to his backers. The Argentine police are interested in the Germans; government agent Obregon (Joseph Calleia) introduces himself to Farrell to try to obtain information, but the American knows nothing about that aspect of Mundson's operations. When the Germans return later, Mundson kills one of them. Farrell and Gilda have another hostile confrontation, which begins with them angrily declaring their hatred for each other, then ends with them passionately kissing. After seeing or overhearing them, Mundson flees to a waiting retractable gear airplane. Farrell and Obregon witness its short flight as the plane explodes shortly after takeoff and plummets into the ocean. Farrell concludes that Mundsen committed suicide, unaware Mundson has parachuted to safety and faked his own death. Gilda inherits his estate. Johnny and she immediately marry, but while Gilda married him for love, Johnny is avenging their mutual betrayal of Mundson. He stays away, but has her guarded day and night out of contempt for her and loyalty to Mundson. Gilda tries to escape the tortured marriage a number of times, but Johnny, now rich and powerful, thwarts every attempt, trapping her in the relationship that has become a prison for them both. Obregon finally confiscates the casino and informs Farrell that Gilda was never truly unfaithful to Mundson or to him, prompting Farrell to try to reconcile with her. At that moment, Mundson reappears, armed with a gun, to kill them both, but Uncle Pio manages to fatally stab him in the back. Then Obregon turns up, and Johnny tries to take the blame for the murder. Uncle Pio finally credits Johnny for being a true gentleman, while insisting that he had killed Mundson. Obregon, however, is uninterested in arresting anyone since Mundson is already legally dead. Farrell gives Obregon the incriminating documents from Mundson's safe. Farrell and Gilda finally reconcile, apologizing for the many emotional wounds they have inflicted on each other. It’s a great thriller and I loved the fake death but the characters are all over the place. No one is ever what they seem but not in a clever way. I think it is forgiven all its minor faults though, due to just how stylish it all is. The direction of the film has often been criticized but I think that’s very unfair. Charles Vidor got so much out of his cast and if you look back at all their films they all became better actors because of him and their time on Gilda. After all, he started with two actors who refused to slap each other, to having two actors with missing teeth. The character of Gilda was so famous that Rita Hayworth once stated "They fell in love with Gilda and woke up with me." It’ll be the role she will always be known for and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that, although it is often forgotten that she wasn’t just a pretty face – her performance is outstanding. It is no surprise that she was a WW2 pin up for many a solder. While Gilda was in release, an atomic bomb due to be tested at Bikini Atoll in the Pacific Ocean's Marshall Islands bared an image of Hayworth, a reference to her bombshell status. The fourth atomic bomb ever to be detonated was decorated with a photograph of Hayworth cut from the June 1946 issue of Esquire magazine. Above it was stenciled the device's nickname, "Gilda", in two-inch black letters. Although the gesture was undoubtedly meant as a compliment, Hayworth was deeply offended. I wonder what she made of Jessica Rabbit?