Showing posts with label foreign. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foreign. Show all posts

Playtime (1967)

Art film is sometimes hard to understand or to relate with. “Playtime” is an excellent example of a film that lacks a conventional storyline but instead the production design, including the use of color, the frequent use of framing, and the enormous set communicates subtle messages of industrial technologies ultimately obstructing normal human interaction.

The large, ambitious set for “Playtime” was created especially for the film. Each towering building and major skyscraper was designed to create this mood of modernity through the sharp lines, the unusual shapes, and the bleak but bright colors. This simultaneously makes the audience feel both that this is something artificial and out of the ordinary, but also makes them feel like they are there experiencing it. There aren’t camera tricks to make things seem enlarged, it is actually designed that big so it has a much more overwhelming effect. The largeness of the effect almost seems to communicate that the presence of the artificial (including these buildings) is more important than the presence of the people themselves. The people are so small and insignificant in comparison.

The film frequently incorporates framing techniques that are unique to “Playtime” and Tati’s style. This is most noticeable in two scenes. In the office scene, every desk is surrounded by a box, or cubicles, as we now know them. This represents the closed off nature of the society and once again the dominance of the architecture over the people. Later, when Monsieur Hulot goes to an apartment, the entirety of the scene is filmed from the exterior. It looks like TV sets piled on top of one another with glimpses into private life, but with the lack of dialogue, nothing is learned beyond the surface action. This was a fascinating technique that really helped employ this theme of the decline of human interaction. There are some amusing physical gags particularly with our protagonist, but nevertheless you can’t help but feel that you are watching a TV show and all you will ever get is that one frame of reference – nothing deeper.

Lastly, the color scheme largely influences the mood. It is filmed in color, but still gives off the impression that it is black and white with its use of grey, blue, black, and white. Most of the buildings are white, while sharp contrasts are provided with black lines and black furniture. However, in most scenes there is some other color present. In the office, there is a man with a bright blue clipboard. Your eyes can’t help but follow him as the color stands out amongst the bleak. This, again, reinforces that technology and design dominate over the people, even though our eyes follow what little life we can find. The color also changes from beginning to end and other colors are much more apparent by the end than by the beginning symbolizing society’s triumph over the impending technology.

Though the plot (or lack thereof) is difficult to follow, this is a story that can be understood by paying close attention to these subtle cues created and manipulated by the set itself. In “Playtime,” the set is just as much a character as the actors are.

All the analysis aside (did you guys really make it through all that?) This movie is pretty boring and has little to no redeeming entertainment value. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone unless you're looking for a little artistic reflection. 3/10

Floating Weeds (1959)

“Floating Weeds” is a simple film with a simple story. It is heavily weighted with Japanese tradition and culture, but there are still universal principles in the underlying message. Director Yasujiro Ozu communicates through his unique camerawork, his depiction of Japanese culture and familial relations, and through simple depictions of conversation the universal ideal of finding beauty in the every day.

Ozu is revered for his filming style. He uses an unmoving camera technique to create the feeling that the voyeur is paying such close attention to the characters he wouldn’t want to miss anything by moving. Each low-angle shot feels like a still and the lack of zoom, tracking cam, and fade-outs make it seem like the audience is catching a precious, intimate glimpse into real life. It’s as if Ozu doesn’t wish to jazz up the every day just to entertain, we should just appreciate the privileges of daily living as they come.

Family relationships play an important role in this. In most cultures, families are valued; it is no different with Japanese culture. Having spent time in Japan myself, I've learned that the ways we express our love and appreciation for our family and loved ones differ from America to Japan. Komajuro, the main character, certainly exhibits a certain compulsion to be in control of his mistresses and son. The idea of a patriarchal society is very important to the Japanese people. This acceptance of male dominance can be disconcerting for the foreign viewer, but this was not looked down upon in 1950’s Japan. Komajuro cared for his son, Kiyoshi, and wished to protect him. There are a few instances of physical abuse from Komajuro to his mistress, Kiyoshi, and Kiyoshi’s lover. Though this left me with a bad taste about Komajuro, it was still just a manifestation of him caring after those he was close to in the way he knew how. His devotion to his family, though his methods are different from our own culture, still help us see the importance of caring for our own family and appreciating our lives with them.

Ozu manages to capture these glimpses into the family life through simple conversations. Besides the overarching conflict of Kiyoshi not knowing his true parentage, there are very few major conflicts. These family relationships are just a part of life. As we learn from these families, it helps us appreciate those small, meaningless conversations with our own families. Many times, we talk about nothing. But those are still formative in our relationship building and bonding. These times are to be appreciated.

“Floating Weeds” is sometimes slow and much different from other American films. But given the time, it is rewarding to relate to another culture and see the ways they appreciate their lives to help us appreciate our own. 5/10





Babette’s Feast (1987)

“Babette’s Feast” is a rather quiet film. There are no villains; there are no major conflicts between characters. Nevertheless, there is something we can learn from the quiet subtlety of this Danish drama. “Babette’s Feast” teaches that through self-sacrifice, we gain a lot more than we lose.

This theme is manifested primarily in the characters. Early in the film, it shows the two sisters Martine (Birgitte Federspiel) and Filippa (Bodil Kjer) sacrifice romantic possibilities and personal happiness in order to continue the religious ministry of their father. This can be seen as a great loss to them as they never married and sometimes you can almost argue that they are not happy. However, in their sacrifice to a religious ideal of their family they are able to form closer bonds with each other and with those that they serve in their congregation. That’s not to say that the film condones religion over love, but I think the film does promote the ideal that sacrifice is sometimes necessary when you truly devote yourself to something. Religion was very important in 19th century Denmark, as was family, and the film encompasses that ideology of the time. Through their sacrifice it is apparent that they gained more compassion and were able to show love more to those around them. This is shown when they take Babette in to be their maid and finally in the last scene where they realize how Babette has sacrificed things too.

Of course, Babette (Stephane Audran) is the main proponent of this theme. After she wins the lottery of 10,000 francs, she chooses to spend it all on a “vrai diner français” for the sisters and company. While it would be more logical to spend that money to return to her home in France, she instead spends it on the people who gave her shelter and warmth over 14 years. This provides the reward for the sister’s sacrifice in their youth in the form of a meal. It is a symbol, but I think the movie is trying to tell us that there are many simple things in life that are important to us, and sometimes good things come to those who wait. Babette, through her fiscal sacrifice, is able to express her gratitude and gain a sense of self. In that final conversation, you can see in her face that she feels content with her choices and that there was more reward in seeing those she cares about enjoy a meal and pleasant company than in selfishly returning home.

One thing I found interesting in context of this theme was the use of irony. The sisters – thinking the exotic meal to be some form of devilry – decide not to show any appreciation for the food itself for fear they will indulge in sin. I found this ironic, when you expect them to rave about the deliciousness they simply eat and quietly converse. I think the film was trying to communicate that when we do make sacrifices, the reward we gain isn’t always manifest in the way we expect. Perhaps Babette expected audible praise. But that wasn’t as important as the rekindling of relationships and the redemption of the human spirits that was shown in that meal.

Though this is a foreign film, I think the theme is universal. We are all humans and we all make sacrifices. This film helps us to remember why we sacrifice of ourselves and what can be gained because of it. It was an interesting film to think about and to reflect on, but it was still a little removed and slow. 7/10