Le Passé (The Past).

Berenice Bejo has redeemed herself after the dreadful The Artist (2011) in a film where she is not only central to the story but in my opinion carries the film. Bejo plays Marie a woman whose demeanour emphasizes the meaning of stress, a woman who is about to go through her second divorce, She is pregnant again to Samir who shares her house located in a working class suburb of Paris, along with her 16 year old daughter Lucie (Pauline Burlet) with whom see has no rapport, her youngest daughter Lea and his own rather disturbed son Fouad. Samir’s wife Celine has attempted to commit suicide and now is in a hospital bed in a coma and is not expected to survive. Enter Marie’s second husband Ahmad who she has not seen for four years, invited back to the family home to go through divorce proceedings but while he is there he is expected to solve Marie’s problems: work out why Lucie will not converse with her mother and advice on whether Samir is the right man to become her third husband. Not an easy task under such demanding circumstances.

 

Ahmad is expected to solve Marie's problems....

Asghar Farhadi latest movie, Le Passé (2013) follows the release in Europe of two very successful films, 2009’s About Elly and the much-respected award winning A Separation (2011) up there with the best of recent World Cinema releases and a film against which all his future body of work will be judged.

 

....including why her daughter will not speak to her....

This week first time host George Geddes, who I must say made a great job of it, introduced Robert Burns Centre Film Theatre Film Club screening of Le Passé. George pointed out to an attentive audience that the idea behind the Film Club was to enable film lovers to see good quality movies that were a little different from the popcorn and soft drink variety seen at mainstream theatres and this week’s film was a good example. He went on to tell us that this was the first of Farhadi’s six films to be shot outside of Iran, this time the location was Paris and its suburb of Sevran north east of the capital. (We gratefully avoid the Paris of Woody Allen!)  Written by this multi talented director it had to be translated from its native Persian to French. Other than the politics, western audiences are not familiar with Iran, only what we get to see from the heavily censored work of brave directors like Asghar Farhadi[1]. Although our host did point out that America operates its own censorship by not showing films from country’s it does not like!

 

....and whether she should marry the sullen Samir.

This ‘gently paced’ sombre movie did appear to be very much appreciated by the RBCFT audience when the movie was discussed after its screening but they were not very forth coming when asked why? But eventually agreed that the acting was very good and that the two younger children (Elyes Aguis and Jeanne Justin) played their roles with extreme professionalism and they were also greatly intrigued by the twists and turns of the story. But our knowledgeable audience did criticise the veracity of the undertitles.

 

Cannes 2013 where the film picked up two awards. 

I was not so sure, nothing wrong with the acting as I have said previously Bejo, who won Best Actress at the 2013 Cannes Film Festival, was extremely good along with her fellow actors French born Tahar Rahim as the unsmiling Samir, an actor whose face is getting very well-known on the big screen with leading roles in A Prophet (2009), Free Men (2011) and Grand Central (2013), and the Iranian actor and director Ali Mosaffa who takes the part of Ahmad. And I did agree with what one critic opined that this fraught story was like a two-hour episode of the BBC series EastEnders with its microcosm of reallot. Sometimes you can’t always explain why a particular a film does not draw you in and this one certainly did not. Also I could not raise any sympathy for the characters, excluding the children who are always ‘the victims’ in any disenfranchised relationship, who all seemed to be failed human beings in some respect even the ‘too good to be true’ Ahmad whose past misdemeanours were only hinted at. But I believe that from reading various reviews that I am in the minority – still you can’t win them all.

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[1] In a recent interview regarding creative restrictions in Iran Asghar Farhadi commented as follows: “There is a limitation for everybody. Each filmmaker before making his movies has to send their script to have it validated, and then once the film is made you repeat the same process. But then you have this question: why do so many good films come out of the country even though web have this system? When everyone looks at this progress, they are only focused on the power of censorship; they forget the creative power of the filmmakers. There is a permanent struggle between the two: sometimes it’s the censorship that wins, sometimes it’s the filmmakers”

The Artist

The que at the RBC on Monday night to see The Artist.

Mr Stephen Pickering was the RBC Film Club’s host for Monday evening and he asks us to imagine we were sitting in a picture house in 1929 and were about to watch a recently released Czech film entitled Erotikon by director Gustav Machaty. We then watched this very interesting clip (that looked more appealing than the film we were about to see). Steve continued with the illusion saying that we, as a 1929 cinema audience, are used to watching silent movies that have been part of our lives and a major entertainment medium since the 1890’s. As regular cinemagoers we have become accustomed to the actor’s mannerisms, the somewhat over emphasised facial contortions, the skilful editing and the close up shots of the actor’s expressive eyes, all designed to help convey the flow of the story silently. The characters were developed, the tension built. We empathised, and are moved to tears, and all without the uttering of a single word. He went on to tell us that, with the introduction of the "Talkies", films would be able to communicate on a whole new level. Like the real world they mirror, the spoken word can add different meanings to situations and one word can create, in our imagination, whole sub plots and parallel storylines not seen on the screen.  He ended this informative and enjoyable introduction with a question to ponder while we watch this evening’s entertainment: Can we travel back in time? Can we recreate instantly for one film the acting and editing skills that the silent actors and technicians honed to perfection over a period of forty years? Or are we about to watch a poor pastiche, whilst the ghostly images of those forgotten actors of the early twentieth century lie forgotten in silent rusting cans of nitrate film? Or is this a wholly new creation deserving of the high acclaim heaped upon it?

Steve took us back to the cinema of the 1920's.

The Artist (2011) (as if you didn’t know) is a silent romantic drama that takes place in Hollywood between 1927 and 1932 just as the ‘talkies’ were replacing the silent movie. It focuses on the relationship between an older silent movie star George Valentin and a rising young actress Peppy Miller. Directed by Frenchman Michel Hazanavicius best known for spy film parody’s and starring Jean Dujardin (Little White Lies (2010)) as George and Hazanavicius’s wife Berenice Bejo as Peppy Miller.

George Valentin won an Oscar for the cheesiest grin.

There’s nothing wrong with a well-made black and white film and there’s nothing wrong with a well-made silent film.  Agreed The Artist (2011) is a very well made black and white silent film with period detail that’s just right but when you look beyond the Emperors new clothes syndrome it's a silent film made in the 21st century, in fact its a novelty film and a second viewing did not change my mind. Like many of the silent movies of the 20s and 30s it's lightweight, frothy and a tad boring. The constant musical overlay becomes annoying although the final dance routine was moderately enjoyable, it certainly did not grip this viewer, with a narrative that’s not particularly stimulating. The best silent movies always have more visual action than 'wordy' interludes. In a nutshell is does not deserve the accolades it has received, unless there's an Oscar for the biggest cheesiest grin, there are a lot more worthy movies than this one. It’s difficult to believe the amount of hype, allegedly due to the work of Harvey Weinstein, that has built up around this crushingly twee film, but credit were credit is due its put bottoms on cinema seats and none more so than at our local Robert Burns Centre Film Theatre, Monday nights film club was no exception.