November 15, 2016No Comments

Caro Diario, Nanni Moretti, 1993

Did you know this guy, Nanni Moretti? Italian filmmaker. HUGE. First time I heard about him was this year. The wonderful thing about cinema, or any art-form for that matter, is the sheer number of hidden greats. You just need to lift a rock and the variety of bugs living their crazy, sparkling lives under there is wow.  

Caro Diario / Dear Diary is what is commonly regarded as a gem. Simple, unpretentious, intensely humanistic, personal recounting of life. The film is divided in three parts. First we follow Moretti riding his scooter. Upbeat, almost silly, music rings out. We meet his friends, they ask themselves “What ever happened to our generation? We all changed for the worse. Sold out, compromised, co-opted.” The man is speaking for the forty-ishes, he’s honest and serious, yet is so goddamn playful and fresh that you fall for his scheme in no time. Everything is staged and stylised and fake. Which of course transcends to bring a form of deep truth out. Then we follow him hop on and off along different coastal islands, trying to find get inspiration for his film. He walks and plays with kids, out of the blue the soundtrack pops a song that sends ripples of intense emotion. The third part follow him visit numerous doctors, trying to find a cure for a skin rush that won’t go away. Of course it won’t, and so won’t we.

Film won Best Director at Cannes in 1994.

October 25, 2016No Comments

Youth, Paolo Sorrentino, 2015

Blatant overtly stylised take on being old and privileged.

Setup design become content more than content itself. 

The soft conflicts of the two main characters add a layer comic puffiness to the tone of the film. They might have “shared” a girl while young, but maybe not. One wrote a musical masterpiece, but won’t conduct it anymore because of demented wife in asylum. One was prime film director, not so the case with his latest work, hence death penalty by way of jump out the window. (made me think of Ida, and her aunt Wanda’s suicide)

The “Simple Song” played in the end is a good representation of the tone of the whole film, a kitschy, glam, superficial but nevertheless tasty definition of grace.

Old, not quite retired creative guys that made it in life cry too, whaddya say about that.

Mădălina Ghenea was surprisingly good in both her times on screen.

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