The Sun Witnesses the Constant War

I Saw the Sun (Günesi Gördüm)

Mahsun Kırmızıgü

Turkey

2009

Turkey has always been a strange place. I mean compared to USA, Japan, UK, France, and Spain, I know much less about the country.  All I know is that Istanbul is its capital city, and that majority of Turks are Muslims and that it is located at the end of Asia almost near Europe. Seeing a movie from a foreign country for the first time is like visiting it for the first time. Difference between visiting through a film is that you will not see the country in its most arrogant edifices, recreations, and weather, instead you will meet its people and you will gain knowledge of what is inside them, be it good or bad, likeable or dislikeable, true or false. The film is one of the best movies I have ever watched. If this is the first Turkish movie I’ve seen, then I can’t wait to see a dozen more. Turks just made me realize how Hollywood gets so pathetic and way beyond overrated.

            At the opening of the film, a message from Che Guevarra is projected, something like--Above all, try always to be able to feel deeply any injustice committed against any person in any part of the world. This gave me the idea that this film is greatly universal, ubiquitous in a sense. “I Saw the Sun”, is a story of a family who are forced to live their homeland mountain because of the civil war going on. In the city, Istanbul, they struggle to live as normal as possible but each one of them realizes that the war didn’t leave them, rather it just transformed itself into something we can call a societal war. Generally the film is about brotherhood, and why brothers kill each other—a narrative template of all civil war films, and which parallels the civil war we have here in the Philippines between our Muslim brothers in Mindanao. The film answers that question—it is from beneath (of us).  We kill each other in many ways, whether we mean it or not, whether we are related by blood or not, whether we are bad or not. “I Saw the Sun” swept me off my feet by its unrelenting take about the globally and historically collective humanity that has never been vivid in anyone’s understanding.

            The film has a lot of characters and the first challenge for me is to distinguish one from another especially when foreign people seen for the first time usually have to look the same, and the names Ramo, Mamo, Kado, Berat, Ahmet and Havar are like Turkish counterparts of Peter Piper tongue twister. But what makes it brilliant is that the many characters have conferred a reservoir of experience so huge that mirrors the universality of the film’s theme. “I Saw the Sun” became a great film because it is not a worldwide social-issued film pretending to be one. The film has been so authentic and even exotic all throughout. Second level of its decency is that no matter where these many established characters go they all lead to the same adjoining conclusion that people are always in a war and that as of now its defeat still remains to be very elusive. The sentimental togetherness of a Turkish family is an ingredient that automatically makes us understand how this group of people is spiritually connected to their homeland and that it is where they are supposed to spend the rest of their days. Even until they move to an industrialized Istanbul or even to the European cities of Denmark and Norway, you will still feel the alienation.

            Brothers kill brothers, from the early scene where Davut’s two sons Berat and Ahmet where on two opposing sides—the guerrillas and the Army, we know that the film will be haunted by this premise. And the haunting has been incredibly intelligent, that will make “I Saw the Sun”, one of the most honest and bravest films of all time. Three brothers, Ramo, Mamo, Kadi, together with their father, Ramo’s wife, and six children are adjusting to their life in the city of Istanbul. The conflict between Ramo and Mamo is nought, but Mamo has a stern despise to their queer brother Kadi, who later on transforms herself into a bisexual, though Mamo is more accepting of their brother. Mamo kills Kadi in a very powerful scene . In a deserted bridge, Mamo points a gun to the female-dressed Kadi. The transvestite takes off her clothes, wig, crying and ready to die, as she pulls up a local flower she picked the day they left their native. According to the conversation Kadi had with a transvestite friend, the flower grows every winter and once it sees the suns, it simply withers up and dies. Kadi believes that the flower is in love with the sun. Mamo is so frustrated and mad to see what Kadi made himself into, Kadi daring and unafraid, he asks his brother to shoot him and a bullet at his heart causes him to fall down and Mamo to run after the brother he consciously but unintentionally killed. Kadi has the flower in his hand and before he draws his last intricate breath, sun appears in front of him. The children of Ramo, five women, together with their blind grandfather are left to take care of their youngest and only boy sibling that their father longed for solemnly. By ignorance and innocence, they placed their baby brother into the washing machine to have him washed after a diaper change. This reasons Ramo to almost die, but the astounding understanding of Ramo to the circumstance soars tremendously with what the world is lacking tremendously—forgiveness.

            The film is a collection of parallel stories all leading to the principle that we kill each other and that whether we have the intention or not, we will never be happy about it. Some people will no longer see the spark of sunshine in their life in the lost of a loved one, some people will try desperately to have a grasp of that, but with what people you know do, and other people you don’t know do, there can actually be rainbows at the end of the horizon, a scene that is actually evident in one of the final scenes. “I Saw the Sun” is an extremely purifying film. With soothing music and commendable direction, this film is a memoir of everyone. It seems so vast, so infinitely numerous, but that is the enchanting part of the film. “I Saw the Sun” is going to be timeless work of great passion and deep understanding of a very poignant life.

Understanding Beauty of Death—a Japanese Treasure

Departures
Yojiro Takita
Japan
2008

“Departures” in simple words is the best film I’ve ever watched made in the 21^st century. Passionate, highly-emotional, and enlightening, Takita expands the beauty and importance of this sentimental film by a skilful direction and unmistakable understanding of life, delivered through immense cinematography by Takeshi Himada and a breathtaking music by Joe Hisaishi. Winning the Best Foreign Language Film Award at the Oscar 2008, “Departures” and lots of others from different part of the world, this film celebrates the uncelebrated—the   misunderstanding of a job responsible for preparing a dead person in his coffin; and its opposite—the understanding of such job and which realization is way beyond the most overwhelming warmth of a sunshine.

Daigo (Masahiro Motoki) is desperately looking for a job after the orchestra where he is playing and working for is dissolved. He lands himself in a funeral service. He is hiding his job from his wife Mika (Ryoko Hirosue), but as how it is expected she learns about it, and she doesn’t like it, and she wants Daigo to abscond the job. Daigo though has started appreciating the concealed and undervalued meaning of his job. When a family friend needs the professional service of Daigo and Mika witnesses for the first time how her husband does in his untamed occupation, she realizes and perceives it now the way her husband does so. Daigo never had his father after he was six and this brought lots of prolonged torments to him. When he learns that his father has just died, he is definite to say that he is not going to see him. But Daigo works for the deceased and their loved ones, and he can never really miss the chance of doing what he does so well in his estranged father.

The film is an emotionally monster film. Every single movement in the film is filled with feelings that have gotten themselves from a long journey as long as life. “Departures” is so beautiful that none of all those people who cried in the film looked so hopelessly pathetic, that no single moment in the film is a bore, and that no single scene in the film departed from the very lovable and coherent narrative thread of the story. Wonderful is the film in the sense that the main character Daigo’s (Motoki) life is not the focal source of all the rejuvenating conclusion of tears but rather his character prompts all the supporting cast and elements in the film to be in their most powerful form without overshadowing the lead character. This in return, gives the audience easy time to understand why Daigo has grasped the fulfilling scenery of his employment. The scene where he and his boss prepared the body of the first woman in front of her family is extremely commendable. Takita knows how primacy and recency effect works. The first job assignment of Daigo in the house of an old woman who died unknowingly for already two weeks doesn’t give the so called beginner’s luck for our main man but gives the beginner’s unlock instead. The second assignment, the one I mentioned earlier then provides the compensating nature of the work. The mother who died, aside form having recall from the death of Daigo’s mother, shows off what the film’s strength is—emotions. It becomes really amazing how these people (loved ones of the deceased) grab my towering empathy and feelings despite the fact that we only see them in a single scene or a couple of scenes. Even the scene where a father has died and all his loved ones are women and they all printed kiss marks on the face of their father causing smiles and pure laugh followed by sudden deluge of bereavement causes me to cry as well. Before making a conclusion, I want to add as an example the final scene where Daigo called his dead father ‘dad’, indicating forgiveness. The answer is simply—death draws all of the humanness we humans have inside. It is a powerful anthropological constitution that usurps all the pride and anger from the human heart, and bestows all the love we never thought we had for a person, and even when we think we already love a person very much, in time of the inevitable hour, we will be surprised that we don’t even really know how much we love them because our love for them becomes immeasurable and unthinkable.

 

“Departures” has a very coherent and very complementing form. So rigid that it holds and shapes and guides the viewer’s emotions carefully and precisely. The screenplay is just superb and since I am afraid to use the word perfect then let me just say it is near perfect. There is difference between a story and a screenplay, though many people think that it is basically the same, because the screenplay holds the story. I have to agree, it makes sense. But screenplay is a higher form of story, a more cinematic term for it, where a story is figured to a shape of how the film will become full of life. In simple words, a screenplay is a combination of a good story and good storytelling. “Departures” simply got a heart-warming story but what I am really loving about the film is the storytelling. With that, I am particularly referring to its form, and as according to Bordwell and Thompson, film form is the interconnecting system of all the elements in a film. Daigo as a cellist is a fantastic characterization made for the protagonist because it provides an instant logic to the sound and music that will accompany the film all throughout aside from the fact that the beginning part of the movie looks very sophisticated. Living in Tokyo and moving to his childhood house is also a harmonizing metaphor to a big decision and life-changing future waiting for the two. Daigo’s internal conflict with his father, appends emotional alarm to the story even though what is happening in his life is rewardingly positive. The no-father-figure issue of Daigo keeps us aware that our protagonist won’t be doing his occupation for a long time without being able to do it to someone a part of his life. I was actually expecting either his wife or his boss to be the next person Daigo will be working on to, but to have his father dead is nevertheless a good turning point in the film to release Daigo from all the long-buried pain and as well as his father’s. The film is highly-semiotic: the octopus represents a decision; the bath house signifies an old custom struggling for survival similar to Daigo’s love for music; lifeless people in coffins correspond ironically to the increasing understanding of Daigo’s job; the pregnant Mika positively recoils the relationship of Daigo and his separated father; and the most important aspect of the film—death is a beginning, a departure from the world to a new and better life.

Speaking of death, this actually gives reference to Japanese masterpieces of Akira Kurosawa—Seven Samurai (1954), Ran (1985), and one of my my favourites—Rashomon (1950). These movies essentially include death especially in Kurosawa’s Ikiru (1952). “Departures”, just like its Japanese filmic ancestors, has a good tone affixing humour to drama.  Masahiro Motoki is radiatingly good. His free-flowing movement in his profession ritual is magnificent. He shows awe in dexterity and most importantly the respect he pays for the dignity of the ones who depart. A crying man is a big apple, it has to be treated with utmost sensitivity. With the great direction from Takita, Motoki’s in-tears performance when he was wiping the face of his long unknown and now dead father is as resounding as a masterpiece that is surely going to be timeless. Another great scene from Motoki happens when he is dispirited by his work and he arduously embraced and kissed his wife. A beautiful picture of demonstrating how a man mellows, and how he becomes passionate and how he becomes as helpless as a lost soul resorting to the security of a woman’s love and of her soft body becomes a very memorable part of this exquisite film.

“In the tradition of understanding life and death way back from its great cinematic influences of all Japanese artistry of Akira Kurosawa, delivers a riveting, unbelievably moving, and deeply enlightening interpretation of knowing life in the most unexpected place. Beautiful and heart-warming, simple and truthful, artistic and cinematic, “Departures” is a film that makes me love films more unfathomably.

PUBLIC ENEMIES

Director: Michael Mann
Country: USA
Year: 2009

Oscar Elite Circle

In a couple of months from now, Academy Awards will be again naming the best of the films made in the recent past year of 2009. Film enthusiasts are already very excited about this. That is why many predictions have been made and uploaded in the internet about the movies that may be garnering a nomination or a couple or a number; lucky a movie of course if it will receive a nomination by a double digit. One of the noisiest films as of now expected to be in the elite circle of Oscar finalists is Michael Mann’s “Public Enemies”.

Lead by Academy Award multi-nominated Johnny Depp alongside Academy Award Best Actress winning Marion Cotillard and the most recent actor to play Batman, the popular Christina Bale, how could this movie go wrong?  Based on the book of Bryan Burrough, the movie is about the notorious John Dillinger (Depp) as he lives his life of bank-robbing, and nothing else perhaps after he met the beautiful French-American Billie (Cotillard) and the serious assignment of Melvin Purvis to chase the elusive, gun and escape-wise Dillinger.

The Assassination of John Dillinger by a Nobody

The film is not the best movie I’ve watched ever, but I will be honest to say that it is a  well-made film, and only if it is not a  true to life story the movie could have outstretched its form into something that is absolutely stunning. But since the makers of the film I believe have been stuck to delivering the truest possible platform of the film from the real people within the real happening of the events almost a century ago, which is actually something that I can’t blame, “Public Enemies” though still remains to be a very good film jeopardized its overwhelming potential. I am particularly referring to the ending of the movie where Dillinger was shot. The scene is not a mess, but what happens is a mess, and that is nothing less but the fault of the undistinguishable cinematic roles of the people who are trying to blow the fatal shot to Dillinger. His death is very corrupted, at least cinematically; proof would be the sudden uselessness of Purvis in the film after the incident; and the necessary role of Agent Winstead from out of nowhere. Elemental zero to supporting hero is not welcome though in the world of narrative cinema. I am upset about this one and the only thing that is keeping me from going mad is the fact that it is what really happened in real life.

The Dark Knight versus John Dillinger and the Overrated Role

Having Johnny Depp sided by Christian Bale is an exciting commercial move by Universal Pictures. Casting the two of them in rat-cat plot will automatically create tension even in the slightest-set encounters. In the film though, I was very looking forward to the meet-up of the two. I love the cut to cut sequences of the free and symbolically prisoned John and of the bold and courageous Melvin. The feel that the two of them haven’t met yet but narratively, with the help of technical manipulations to the editing generates tremendous power to a very electrifying climax. I literally couldn’t wait for the two to clash. I ended up getting disappointed. Their first encounter when Purvis take a look at Dillinger at the jail is a very lame respond of director Mann to a supposedly real scorching hot encounter that will mark the beginning of an accelerating pressure to the two sides. Another missing element I came across with watching the movie is the lack of urgency in the part of Purvis to catch the bank notorious criminal. I really didn’t feel the intense, unrelenting, death-defying passion to catch Dillinger. This is something that I have always been looking for in a character after I have seen Jake Gylenhaal in David Fincher’s “Zodiac”, the problem doesn’t lie in Bale’s acting or whatever, he did his job good enough though. The problem is with the realization of the character from the script. The extrinsic role of Melvin Purvis is only a major one from the first hour of the movie and at the end keeps doing nothing but to deteriorate. If we are going to be stricter, I can even say that there has been an over-appreciation to the role that is manifested in the man-of-the-hour-introduction-to-the-press establishment for Purvis after defeating Pretty Boy Floyd, which is the exact reason why the film is eluded by the convincing success but actually irrelevant success of the character. The solution could have been simple—make the most out of Purvis. If only there is no need for keeping the real events in the story, then a more rigid, more nerve-racking, and more competition for survival and achievement could have been pulled up and more solid conflict by a solid protagonist and a solid antagonist. This is major problem in the “Public Enemies”, everything seems to be so clear but as deceiving as a Poison Ivy may be, you truly won’t recognize who these characters are. I am expecting a gigantic face-off between Dillinger and Purvis but it never happened in the film.

John and Billie

A love story within a crime-epic drama is not unusual, but this inclusion to the film makes possible its edge. The scenes between John and Billie are overpoweringly sultry, classy, and steaming. Very passionate making of the scenes for Mann, cinematographer Dante Spinotti,  and even musical scorer Elliot Goldenthal. Also, the scenes of the two during the most private of their times or we can say the times they, especially John is most human. These are also the sequences that we witness the transition of John Dillinger to the simple John. But still on the other hand even though I see John in his purest moments, I still can’t dig up to his psyche. He seems very far, like he has his own world and that there is now ay to unlock it. I am not sure if this is such an intention, but if it is, then I commend the director and Depp for the very good job done, but if it is not, then I don’t commend myself for not appreciating the attempts of both Mann and Depp to make the character be real but I commend myself for recognizing the difference between filmmakers who can deliver any message straightforwardly and those who inevitably experienced an unusual difficulty. This is not my favourite performance from Depp, until now I still believe that his single best performance is really in “Finding Neverland”. He as John Dillinger, is not a bad thing but I don’t think it really helped him in his career because he isn’t brilliant in it at all. He has just been mediocre from start to finish. He looks harassed all the time and this is frustrating for me because I like Depp but his interpretation probably is not really suiting what is supposed to be suit or probably his personality simply just don’t suit that of John Dillinger. Marion Cotillard as Billie, John’s lover, on the other hand is fantastic. She is very beautiful from her initial to final scene. She has persuaded me that she really loves Dillinger, but the frustration commences for I can’t see the reason why she loves Dillinger. Sometimes we are under a wrong impression that when we hate a hate a character and that character is a villain/villain-hero, then that means that the actor had done his job really well. In my opinion, it should not be. You will love a character whether he is a villain or a hero. There is a difference between loving an evil character and hating one

The Sentimental Redemption

John Dillinger is a stiff and austere guy. The biggest challenge is underneath the endeavour of showing that this type of personalities can also feel warmth and that as much as any human being does, he can also love. The axis of emotion depends on his attraction to a woman Billie and I thought it wasn’t enough to compensate for all the apathetic reservoir of Dillinger. After the first hour and a half of the film, I was already worried by the lack of emotions I feel. He is in love for most part of the film however, that love didn’t lead him anywhere though until the time he cried when he sees her girlfriend arrested by the cops and he couldn’t do anything—one of two best parts of the film because it is the only time I realized he is human. The other one would be when he died and he whispered—Tell Billie, bye bye  black bird (Black Bird is the title of the song to which the two loved to dance).

           

Cinematic Versus Historic

Talking about the technical aspects of the movie, sound recording and design are actually impressive. The musical score is also awesome especially when it comes to the chase scenes and the sensational moments between the two lovers. The cinematography is also good. I love the shadows all throughout the film, it is very consistent and complementing to the bank robbery the gang has been doing. The choices of shots are also good. There have right and important calls to when a close-up shot should be given especially when it comes to the flaunting dexterity of Purvis to shoot or when it comes to the craggy skill of Dillinger to fire a larger gun. The technical part is actually the better part of the film than the creative. If the film is going to have a good shot at the Oscar 2010, I am not placing my bet on it, but if ten nominees will be allowed this year, then probably. Technically it is good, and creatively it is not really bad, and it has the “heart” (even though very late in the film it appeared). Personally, I am sure that the final product Michael Mann and his team produced is only 40% of what it can really be had he prioritized being more cinematic than historic. I can’t blame him though for choosing the latter, but if I were him, I just won’t direct Public Enemies.

TWENTY FAVORITE POSTERS

Posters are intriguing, mind-boggling, and most of all crazy. Since films are made of hundreds of thousands of still images, posters are only made by a single picture. The hardest, harshest, and critical part in making a poster for a movie is that everything should be there; the general tone, mood, feel, and all major elements should be consolidated and at the same time should cohere to one another and at the same time catch the attention of people for it to sell, totally advertising in a sense. That is why some movies have more than one poster, usually they have two, but others even have new versions everytime they show the film in different countries. That is why I collected a list of all the movie posters that caught my attention renting them in my favourite video shop and watch them. Though some posters are better than the movie and vice versa, posters are a fantastic part of any film. In fact, I even want to see a Best Poster award included in award giving bodies for films. 

1. Sophie Scholl--The Final Days (Marc Rothemund/Germany/2005) 

2. Departures (Yojiro Takita/Japan/2008)

3. Burn After Reading (Coen Brothers/USA/2008)

4. The English Patient (Anthony Minghella/USA/1996)

5. Rang de Basanti/*Paint it Saffron  (Rakeysh Omprakash/India/2006)

* English Transalation

6. Nuovomundo/*The Golden Door (Emanuele Craisele/Italy/2006)

7. Little Miss Sunshine (Jonathan Dayton & Va\lerie Faris/USA/2006)

8. Joyeux Noel/*Merry Christmas (Christian Carrion/France/2005)

* English Translation

9. Atonement (Joe Wright/USA/2007)

10. Uc Maymun/*Three Monkeys (Nuri Bilge Ceylan/Turkey/2008)

11. Tulpan (Sergey Dvortsevoy/Kazakhstan/2008)

12. Everybody's Famous (Dominique Dureddere/Belgium/2000)

13. The White Silk Dress (Luu Huynh/Vietnam/2007)

14. The Year my Parents Went on a Vacation (Cao Hamburger/Brazil/2006)

15. Babel (Alejandro Gonzales-Inarritu/USA,Mexico,Japan,Morocco/2006)

16. Milan (Olivia Lamasan/Philippines/2004)

17. The Tin Mine (Jira MaligoolThailand/2005)

18. Paradise Now (Hany Abu-Assad/Palestine/2004)

19. My Life as a Dog (Reidar Jönsson/Sweden/1985)

20. House of Flying Daggers (Zhang Yimou/China/2004)

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FORM OF PEACE

Knowing (Alex Proyas/USA/2009)

End of the world is the end of all the splendour, advancement, beauty, love and even the evil of all living beings who have stepped foot on the 197,000,000 square mile total surface of the earth. Among the infinite number of the souls who have been able to do so, “Knowing” focuses on a father William (Nicholas Cage), an astrophysics professor who learned about a prophetic code leading to what everybody won’t wish to ever occur—the end of the world.

After finding out that the numbers on a weird student Lucinda’s drawing 50 years ago from the school where his son Caleb is now studying has an astonishing correspondence to the dates, number of casualty, and location of the world’s major terrifying disasters, he is set to at least do something. But though proven that a man couldn’t alter a prophecy unless you are Jesus Christ; he has seen a plane crash and witnessed in his disposal the literally burning and pleading for desperate help passengers; and also, he is one of those who have survived a dreadful railway accident killing hundred of lives after being unsuccessful keeping the prophecy latent. But the final one of these prophetical code is much worse, a tragedy that is apocalyptic, a solar flare so tremendous that it will engulf the planet with the sun’s overwhelming power of fire, thus wiping away the face of the earth. William though has learned that Lucinda was trying to communicate a safe place before the final catastrophe happens.

They say that things come in threes, and that comes here in the movie: two calamities at first with increasing intensity and number of casualty and then finally the ultimate blow that will make everybody helpless. Alex Proyas, the director has provided us with a fake and a differential which has been a unique part of the film all throughout, and is a very fine technique of twisting a thriller plotted movie. The place crash scene has quite a generic look and feel for a suspense film—the rains, the dark clouds, running people, despicable plane debris, and the haunting hum of dying people, but the introduction of the scene from the part where William is still on the car worried about the traffic, minding the numbers on Lucinda’s paper, and seeing them at the navigator of his car, then he steps out of car where he can see police officers attending or guarding something that is not really known. That point of uncertainty swallows up our nerves to an abyss of terror and then a plane came from nowhere swooshing right in front of the troubled William and all of the deposited anxiety at what we thought has already happened scuttles with the crashing plane and found ourselves in a painting of sorrow, disappointment, fear, and danger. There is also a fake and differential scheme in the second one—the train accident. William has called the police and informs them that something wrong might happen in a particular corner of the busy city of Manhattan, but like what a usual saviour experiences, no one will believe him. He sees a suspicious guy and he follows him until the subway only to find out that he is only a DVD thief, and that couldn’t really lead them to a monstrous incident. Until the moment they realized that in the subway they are all in, a derailment has just occurred and now everybody’s lives are then at stake.

While William is moving heavens and earth just to solve a worldwide concern, his son has been hearing whispers since they learned about the prophetical codes. With the whispers come a group of vampire looking people, pale-skinned, blonde, and whimsy. These people or entities pretending to be human beings are annoying and kills the film’s very pop culture subject matter. Probably, with the popularity of freaking vampires out of the overrated Twilight series, they thought that vampires or at least vampire-looking anthropometric figures could adjoin sleek elements to an already promising movie. A petty and pitiful surmise though it has proven because it made the film pathetic and desperate for inter-textual congeniality. The worse is, the rest of the film is great less that part. But the worst of them all, the function of these vampire scamps is so ambitiously gorgeous. They are actually extra-terrestrial life form aiming to send a couple of human beings to another planet where everything could be started anew, and in which case Caleb will serve like the earth’s Adam. I find it a serious problem that these “aliens” don’t appear as cinematic as they are supposed to be considering the grandeur of their matrix.  The whispers the kids are hearing adds a great coherence to the genre especially with the darkness-in-the-forest visual template the cinematographer creates. The inclusion of this side-thrill gives an interesting intonation that cleverly supports the major structural narrative thread of “Knowing”. That scaffolding even though noticeable, but since it is annoying prevents me from having a serious read of it and yet at the end redeems itself for the very well, astute manipulation of the audience’s reactions.

The cinematography at times is breathtaking, especially the two last major scenes at the end of it: first, the scene where the young supposed Adam and Eve running at the eternity of the new beginning, where everything is just perfect, the visual tone, the rhythmic pace, the musical accompaniment, the costume design, and total outlandish atmosphere; second, which I have mentioned above, is the scene where William and his family calmly wait for their last second, the everyday yellowish tone of a simple American home and an example of a usual grown-up  family (old parents, middle-aged son, and young adolescent daughter) holding each other tight consolidate with the beauty of the sadness that will soon evolve to an adulterated form of beauty.

“Knowing” is quite similar with “The Day the Earth Stood Still”, both refer to the end of the planet in the presence of extra-terrestrial (though not as physically close with the late 90’s stereotype of ETs: big red eyes, huge heads, green-skinned, and others). The two have humanity/familial love at its emotional core, the basic difference between the two though is that “Knowing” is a hundred mile better than “The Day the Earth Stood Still”. Speaking of what a more realistic scenario is not quite the matter between the two, but to how much authentic extent the approach to the over-all atmosphere of these two films have been. Aside from the superiority of the special effects of “Knowing”, that actually makes the other film looks like having a special effect scarcity, the internal urgency of human change is so forced in “The Day the Earth Stood Still” like Helen (Jennifer Connelly) has been repeating the same line more than twice pleading to Klaatu (Keannu Reeves) that we can change. Two things I hate about that is that first it is desperate and second it is extremely desperate. That on the other hand is the exact reason why I love “Knowing”, the hearty component of it comes and flows as natural as it should be. Particularly in the part where William, together with his father, mother, and younger sister hug each other as they welcome (not just helplessly accept) the end of things, and the fires of the powerful sun eat up the once everlasting days of the earth. The scene is very sentimental, it is not scary, at most, I know the director together with the great help from its cinematographer and musical scorer wants it to be like that. A film that will capture love amidst the most feared catastrophe, a premise that M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Signs” awfully and frantically tries to be, this movie is a post-thrill strategized piece resorting to a peaceful and sentimental solemn and ultimate moments.

ONCE THERE WAS A WOMAN...AND SHE WAS LIKE MY MOTHER

Inang Yaya (Pablo Biglang-awa & Veronica Velasco/Philippines/2006)

The Diamond Star playing the “Inang Yaya” role despite her “Taray Queen” image, still manages to carry an excellent, emotionally- loaded, and unrelentingly passionate job. There could be no other better option for the role than her. In fact, I would even say that if there is only one Independent film Maricel Soriano could be leading then that is “Inang Yaya”, and the reason is simple, she is totally convincing. You won’t argue with me if I say that this movie gave her Best Actress nominations in FAP, FAMAS, URIAN, YCC and even winning the award in Golden Screen.  The calmness, the posture, the projection of the voice, the timidity that is usually associated with the economic status of a person and the nature of her job sweetly uniting with the merged stereotypes of a mother and a ‘yaya’ elevates the very simple and almost uneventful narrative. Thus, I can say that the film is not imagining itself as something bigger than life but instead something as little and yet as loving as creating a ‘cupcake birthday cake’ for a stuffed toy, reprimanding over a 50-peso sticker, and crying because of an unappreciated pink and imitation rubber shoes, which nevertheless results to one of the most undemanding but satisfying films I’ve ever seen.

The cast is not just one of the strongest part of the film but actually, one of the strongest cast ever been done at least for me of course. Aside from the captivating performance of Soriano, the girls Tala Santos as Ruby, the dark-skinned and a little deprived from the comfort of being a rich kid and almost disheartened by the comfort of living in a big house and being friends with her mother’s ‘alaga’  Louise, played by Erika Oreta. Sunshine Cruz and Zoren Legaspi as the employer of Norma and parents of Louise are both cinematically believable transforming their sequences into familiar real-life images of a well-off workaholic couple.

The film is about the extension of a mother’s love, from her daughter to another one she has treated like a daughter as well. During Norma’s soliloquy at the late part of the film, when she is saying that when is asked who between her daughter Ruby and ‘alaga’ Louise she loves the more, the answer for her is that she doesn’t has to choose. She loves both of them and not because Ruby is her daughter (by blood, and all the legal and cultural connotations it may bring to it) doesn’t necessarily means she has to opt her, and that she loves Louise less because she is only an ‘alaga’ and not a real daughter. Another thing that is actually impressive about the film is that it is an aberrant one but still it manages to keep the non-conformist aspect of it in the heart-warming form and content of Inang Yaya.

Almost a realist approach, and understandable is the independent filmmaking technique of a single camera and less flashy camera movements, the film has a collected pace of the plot. Pablo Biglang-awa and Veronica Velasco understand how great the tendency of the film being a bore if not for the good and ardent handling of simple sequences and turn them into experiences that will make us appreciate the two sides of life: tiresome but loving working life of an adult person and the colourful and happy playing lives of children. To put it in other words—of one’s present and the reminiscing of her past, and of one’s present and ignorance of the future.

Inang Yaya is a simple and a beautiful piece of film. Subtle and smooth, the movie tells the story of being a mother times two. The ending where the family of Louise has to go to Singapore and say goodbye to Norma and Ruby punctuates not the love, but only it left the end open to whatever must be happening in the thereafter of a connection divided by seas and distinguished by two different lands. I do not wish to think of this as a reason to say that the mother should be with the daughter and therefore should be away from the ‘other’ daughter. The ending as I’ve mention is not the ending but rather a proof how great the times were when they were all been together, as well as reality is concerned.

A NEW TASTE OF BRANDED HORROR AND COMEDY

Drag me to Hell (Sam Raimi/2009/USA)

Drag me to Hell is a distinctive post-modern fusion of horror films and something technologically youthful, like a video game, that makes almost every single sequence in this film demonically thrilling, dynamically accented, and crazily choreographed.

The title is literally the ultimate conclusion of the curse, the protagonist Christine (Alison Lohaman) is suffering. Inflicted by an odd old Mexican woman, Christine is forced to outplay the evil that is waiting for her to be dragged to the fires of hell.

I am extremely convinced that this film is a product of the continuously evolving aesthetics (visually, temporally) of human beings doing the more than a century craft of filmmaking. Its very youthful, very pop culture approach as if it is an adaptation of a certain video game gives the movie a way too original package in totality. It is not even a derivative of horror films that creates the same old eerie, disgust, and supernatural fear. “The Exorcist”, M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Sixth Sense”, and even Stanley Kubrick’s “The Shining”, these all time favourite and well-acclaimed horror films are all austere-atmosphered movies. Never a combination of horror and craziness has been this great, especially when you can think of the Scary Movie as its closest competitor. Drag me to Hell has just got the innovative horror, coalescing eerie places, creepy people (imps pretending to be people), tormenting evils, and combating them and artistically exaggerate everything with scenes originating from the usual purpose of disgusting people bringing real fear but were modified. Thus, using the same purpose, creating a knock-outing punch, the disgust didn’t generate the fear that has been generated by previous horror films we watch, instead, producing a relaxed fear and vivid satisfaction out of the crankiness that is poured.

Sam Raimi director of the Spiderman 1-3, and now the upcoming fourth, delivers a great piece of survival and salvation. The ground cracking in Satan’s scorching fire witnessed twice in the film (first, during the first encounter of the powerful medium (Adriana Barazza), and second during the end where Christine is swallowed up by it. Co-written by Ivan Raimi, the major twist happened when Christine thought that she can pass back the curse to the spooky woman who wreaked it out to her, but accidentally giving it to her boyfriend, which doesn’t mean she has passed it to him, rather unable to pass it to anyone until the time the blight will take place.

The people in the film are divided into two parts: the Americans and the non-Americans. Americans are the protagonists and her boyfriend, and her boss, which simply means the normal or the ‘main’ character. The non-Americans vary from one to another, the Chinese represented by the co-worker of Christine, who would do anything to get the promotion against Christine by all means. The Indian is represented by Rham, the fortune teller who tells her about what is haunting her. The Mexican is with Shaun San Dena, the medium who is supposed to free Christine from the evil of the curse, and of course the frightening old woman, Ganush, who imposed the demonic curse.

MAY THE LIVING JAY WIN

Jay (Francis Xavier Pasion/Philippines/2008)

Supremely admirable and in every angle charming, Jay will surely keep me enthralled forever. So to speak, it is one of the best Cinemalaya has predestinedly produced and will give a mark in the exciting journey of Philippine independent filmmaking in the auspicious future of the country's national cinema. Winning the most important award, Best Film, at the 2008 Cinemalaya Awards side by side with a Best Actor award for the spellbinding performance of Baron Geisler, Jay is Francis Xavier Pasion's debut film.

Jay is an exciting story of a documentarist named Jay (Baron Geisler) who is moving heaven and earth to create an episode for their show about the poor victims of different crimes. He investigates, explores, and shoots the death, the burial, and how the family, relatives, and friends accepted the horrible fate of a gay man found dead by terrible stabs at his apartment in Manila, who is coincidentally his a namesake of him. This coincidence of similarities grows as the plot thickens, and eventually, and unfortunately, even is namesake's murder will be a similarity he would never ever wish. Formally rich, jay revolves around the narrative pattern of similarity and repetition which in a high degree is a docile yet effective technique of nailing the audiences' consciousness into engagement with the film. These resemblances of the two Jays: firstly their names, their sexual orientation, the mother's sentiment of seeing her deceased son into the documentarist Jay, and the comfortable moments of the living Jay with the dead Jay's ex-boyfriend are not superficially playing the mere purpose of feeding the assumption that men's minds work in approximations. Nevertheless, these witty analogical connections all lead to the final scene and implied ending—documentarist's death, which is the over-all and ultimate likeness of the two Jays. The indirect reference of the final sequence to death has an intrinsic and intertextual intelligence with Alejandro Gonzales Inarittu's “Babel”, where the final scene of the Japanese father embracing the barenaked daughter (Rinko Kikuchi) in their terrace as the camera movers back revealing the dark and beautiful modern Tokyo city at night suggests the somber sexual relationship of the two. This ending of Jay assumes an ending out of what the whole film convinces us to assume is at least on the film language, almost as good as that of Babel's ending, but beyond, in the language of what it speaks about gays in our society, it is actually has nothing quite new to add. As a matter of fact, it still submits to the long-time and repressed emancipation of the homosexuals. The film may actually say that any gay man has to be killed brutally, not even just simply die, but brutally. The implied resolution seems to play a safe statement and leaves the audience baffled whether we have to strip all the supporting elements of the narrative off our minds, violate film coherence and hope for a more queer-loving ending. At this point, I believe that Jay reports, more than it criticizes. That is why it borrows an external form of documentary films, to emphasize that it pretends not to be a solution to an elusive societal understanding of homosexuality but rather, like a documentary, reveals and presents reality and let the viewers do the rest. Aside from deconstructing or exposing the real notoriety of the manipulations of the famous media it likewise leaves very much open how gay men live in what is thought to be a less homophobic society.

Complementing the truth, the film Jay wants to achieve while the protagonist Jay tries to alter for cinematic purposes, is an ultra-realistic approach to the philosophy of filming it. The attracting silence, zero-musical scoring of the entire film, except the final cut of the documentary playing at the beginning of the film, expands the volume of its realism. The difference between the presence of music in the documented story airing on television and the absence of non-diegetic sounds at the whole process of the documentation distinguishes the boundary of what is purely real and what is the mediated real. The connection of the story to real events such as Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, and even Manny Pacquaio's fight also contribute to the achievement of the film's objective. The acting is as natural as it gets. Choosing amateur actors is a tried and tested formula to achieving realistic acting, but witrh crying sequences just like in jay, the purpose is not fully done, though it didn't cause much devastation to the whole. On the main hand, Baron Geisler is a flamboyant choice for the lead role. He for me is absolutely perfect for the role. I can't almost reckon that an actor so unfavorably known as bad, prodigal, and drunkard can play a gay role so well that every single bit of the tone of his voice and minute details of his mannerisms would totally oblige you to pay this actor the most towering respects. Coco Martin, who simply and quietly did his job plays the shy ex-boyfriend of the murdered Jay. This affectionate character is his comfort role. He does this type of character more convincingly and admirably than the fierce character he used to play in the T.V. Series “Tayong Dalawa”. Geisler's surprising and endearing femininity creates a good juxtapositional blending with Martin's timidity which glimmers commensally with the incandescent character of Geisler.

The cinematographic use of space in Jay is admirable. There are scenes where a frame is not totally consumed by the subjects and lately reveals the role of the empty space. In an early scene, the van of Channel where Jay is working for parks at the middle of the frame while the house of Jay's family in Bacolor occupies the right portion. A noticeable space at the left portion is then vacant, lately it serves as a space for Jay making a call for his producers. Another is observes when jay together with the mother of the victim jay is talking. There is a strikingly unused space in the composition where a cabinet is placed. Later, Jay finds photographs of the mourned Jay together with his ex-lover inside.

Undeniably engaging, Jay is a highly captivating film.