The Revolution's Here

The endings of “The Lives of Others” and “Persepolis” are quite poignant representations of change in their respective countries, Germany and Iran. Each country goes through a change that greatly shakes the characters of these respective films. The endings of the films change everything for the lead characters. However, the endings of the two films have two completely different outcomes for Weisler and Marjane. In “The Lives of Others,” Weisler’s life in shaken and shrunken, and in “Persepolis,” Marjane takes the great leap towards personal freedom.
“The Lives of Others’” ending demonstrates the fall of East Germany’s reign. As Weisler is discovered as the ally who now works as a mail deliverer, the film shows the change that has occurred in his country. Once the mightiest Stasi officer, strong and proud, Weisler has become a small and insignificant man, just as the country he once served was. Inversely, the speck of a man that he observed now has power, as a famous author. He can even give Weisler hope and confidence in his choices and the changes that have occurred by dedicating his novel to him. In this instance, Weisler, who used to have the power, is now subservient to the man he once nearly stalked. This powerful ending is the final proof that East Germany has fallen and is no more.
In “Persepolis,” Marjane also brings change. Her change is a reaction to the revolution in Iran, and her need to leave such a place. She cannot exist in that country, and brings about a personal revolution by leaving her homeland for freedom. Nothing else matters at this point for her. Her change is the antithesis of Weisler’s. The revolution in Iran and the change it invokes helps Marjane and makes her stronger, whereas what happened to Weisler effects him in a negative way. While Marjane is climbing up the freedom ladder, Weisler is crashing.
Another important metaphor that emphasizes this point is the death of Marjane’s grandmother. Grandma is the epitome of strength and rebellion in the shaken Iran. Her death is the perfect metaphor for the change that happens in her country, and as Marjane says, the price of freedom. While Marjane was in Iran, Grandma was able to live successfully in Iran, but the moment Marjane leaves, it is the final declaration that Iran has permanently changed, and Grandma cannot exist.
The ending of “The Lives of Others” demonstrates the great fall of a man who was in power as a result of a revolution. Contrarily, the ending of “Persepolis” demonstrates the strength one woman finds from the revolution. While each have different results for our leading characters, the statement is ultimately the same. That statement: when the revolution comes, change will be brought from all directions. It may not always be for the benefit of all (as seen in both Marjane and Weisler), but the change it brings is not only strong but moving, as in the case of Marjane, who manages to leave the wrecked land of Iran. In both films, the revolution has come, and is unstoppable. That is the unchanging truth in the endings of these two films.

Indifference Meets the Banlieue, Feels "Hate"

There is a contradictory feeling in Matheiu Kassowitz’ film "La Haine." The film leaves the audience with the perspective of the French urban neighborhoods as being increasingly dangerous. I, as an audience member, firmly believed that life in these suburbs is worse than anything here, and that there is a socio-economic segregation between these French citizens and those who live in Paris. The film makes it seem that the Parisians live wonderful, free lives. However, when examining the film, this is hardly the case. Kassowitz says that the banlieues are actually happier places than seen in the movie, and in the film, the characters fair relatively well when they stay in the banlieue. In Paris, the characters are beaten in a horrific way as opposed to feeling as free as one would think from the vibe of the film. Given these two ideas, what is the real message Kassowitz is trying to send the audience? I myself am having a difficult time understanding this difference in opinion. I think, though, when all is said and done, that I believe that Kassowitz is trying to demonstrate the lack of hope for the people who live in the banlieues.
I don’t think that it matters for these people where they are from as far as race goes. They are all French citizens, and obviously there is little to no racial segregation in the banlieues. However, there is segregation between those who live in the banlieues and those who are more integrated into French society as we normally think of it. The people in these French immigrant suburbs are isolated from the rest of the country, and while they have their own piece of culture in their little world, that fact is hardly compensation for the way they are treated by outsiders. This concept is what I believe Kassowitz was trying to explain.
The basic plot of "La Haine" can be described as three boys reacting to police brutality. This brutality is not felt because they are immigrants, because they are boys, or even because they are poor, it is because they are outsiders. They live in a place rejected by the rest of the country, a place forgotten, destroyed. The police treat them with hostility because they have power over them, because no one pays any mind. After all, who cares about the banlieue? The answer: no one. They are ignored, and so they are not socialized into French culture. Vinz, Hubert, and Said cannot begin to understand what Paris is like, because they are kept away. They are pushed to such levels of rage because they can’t be part of France as a country, because France is kept at a distance.
This film is not about whether conditions are better in Paris or the banlieue. It is about the classic human struggle to be heard, to be seen, and to have a fighting chance. Vinz finds policeman’s gun and wants to use it because he cannot think of a greater way to be seen. This is Kassowitz’ point: desperate people do desperate things. The rage Vinz feels in "La Haine" does not come from poor conditions, but from the indifference that he is faced with.

The Disease of Hollywood

“The only way to approach thinking about this is to look at where various kinds of cinema come from, what are the motivating forces and the prevailing conditions. The fact is that there is a great tradition, which exists in Europe and plenty of other places, not least Japan, of making films about real life, uncluttered and unfettered and uninterfered with by the kind of disease that you can—broadly speaking—diagnose as Hollywood.”—Mike Leigh
Mike Leigh’s quote of the ‘disease’ of Hollywood refers to the lack of social realism in American cinema. Frankly speaking, films in America are of lesser quality than those is Europe. It is better said that successful films in America are of lesser quality than those in Europe. Films that strive for a realistic quality are consistently less successful in America, though they may be critically acclaimed. For example, recent films like 'Revolutionary Road' have proven to be quite realistic, the box office returns on films such as this are quite small and under-advertised. When they are advertised, they are seen as utterly depressing and not worth seeing. Americans don’t want to go to the movies and see a film that depresses them because they are unable to live with the sorrow of daily life. Because of this, filmmakers react by making pointless films that have not one iota of truth or reality in them.
While it may seem logical to make films that the studios believe no one wants to see, it is, as Leigh calls it, a disease. The reason behind this is that, when film studios stop making films that they believe no one will want to watch, then they perpetuate the feeling of depression associated with these films. This creates a vicious circle where audiences avoid realistic films when they are made because they believe that they are not supposed to like these kind of films. This feeling is embedded into our brains from birth. When studios then produce films that do not reflect daily life, which is the common choice, we are told that these are the films we want to watch, and then we believe that these are the films we want to watch.
In America, we see films as an escape. It has been this way since the Great Depression. We have consistently sought entertainment from cinema, rather than seeing it as the art form it is, something that is not ignored in Europe. Because of this, we seek out cinema not to reflect our daily lives, but to distract us from the mundane cycle of life. Instead of this being a good thing and making us better, stronger, happier for it, we are instead emotionally stunted. In Europe, the social realism of cinema creates a better rounded (albeit more painful) view of life. In America, we distract ourselves with pointlessness.
Take, for example, films such as 'Dude, Where’s My Car?' A cult comedy today, this film follows two men who literally lose their car. While this could be an interesting plot if filmed by Mike Leigh or Ken Loach, in an American’s hand it is a shameless attempt to film two attractive men run around and get into ridiculous shenanigans that make no sense. Americans flocked to this film and watch it to this day. The trailer for Dude, Where’s My Car can be found here:


Take that film in comparison to the aforementioned 'Revolutionary Road,' which was of much better quality. However, this film was hardly a box office success. The movie made little money. It was a realistic look at the suburbs based on a novel, and was not successful at all, through critics or audiences. It was called “too depressing.” The trailer is below:


When we look at the two films’ trailers, we can see that one is childish and meaningless, while the other is more reflective of the human condition, and the issues facing people at a certain time. This is just another victim of the disease of Hollywood, one that has spread to audiences everywhere.

Humanity and the Dardenne Brothers

The Dardenne Brothers’ Rosetta and short film Dans l’Obscurite are both reminiscent of typical Dardenne style. As mentioned by Professor Masse, the camera movement is the most obvious similarity between the two films. The most striking thing that I noticed while watching Dans l’Obscurite was the presence of Emilie Dequenne in both Rosetta and Dans l’Obscurite. Her presence immediately helped me to feel connected to Dans l’Obscurite because I literally found the character of Rosetta in the short film. This choice by the Dardennes made the film remind me of Rosetta because, in a way, I felt that the crying woman was Rosetta. Though her character is much fiercer than the crying woman in the short film, I felt that the two were kindred spirits, that the crying woman was Rosetta in her most vulnerable, humane state.
What I noticed the most about the short film in relation to Rosetta was the sense of quiet desperation that I felt while watching the boy try to steal from the crying woman. In a parallel sense, there is a desperation in Dequenne’s character too. She is crying and disturbed by what she is seeing in the film, but I think that there is a disturbing feeling about what is happening with the young boy. I believe that she knows he is there from the beginning, and that she reaches out to him in an act of kindness, as though the idea of holding his hand and kissing it will change him forever. This gentle act reminds me of the age old story of a woman suckling a starving baby because the mother cannot produce milk; an act of generosity because it is the purest human emotion that is felt. At the end of the day, this moment is not only wholly humane and kind, but it is the only thing that matters, the act of humanity and affection.
While I don’t believe that this exact action is replicated in Rosetta, the mood and theme of the action is represented wholly throughout the movie. The characters are starved of the random acts of human kindness, but ultimately, there is a connection. Each character has a vibe of hopelessness that the characters in the short film have as well. There is a sense of community that I feel in both of these films. The sense of community, however, is not represented by a tangible support for the other citizens. Instead, I find the ‘group aspect’ in a way that I can only describe as ‘mutual depression,’ meaning that these characters are so disdainful of their environments that they rebel against society and hate each other in a way that actually binds them, because this anger is so strong that it connects everyone together. Each is so hurt that they cling to each other, not out of want, but out of necessity. There is a way in which these characters interact which convinces me that they are intertwined in each others’ lives without even consenting to such a connection.

A Movie for Women: 'Volver'

Volver is a strong, traditional Spanish film. The motifs of the film are inherently Spanish, as evidenced by the bright, bold colors, especially the shade of red that appears throughout the movie. And yet, in spite of this, the film has reached an incredibly wide audience in many different, non-Spanish speaking countries, including America. Even director Pedro Almodovar spoke in an interview about the universal appeal of the film. “It moves the audience more than the other fifteen [films],” he said.
One thing that attracts foreign audiences is the presence of strong female characters. There is a line at the very beginning of the movie, “The women here live longer than the men,” which denotes the strength of women in this film. Audiences have been striving for such strong women in film for a long while, and seeing Raimunda, a woman who believes in her inner strength more than anything, being so in control of the horror surrounding her is not only attractive to foreign audiences, but incredibly worthy of viewing. As Raimunda disposes of Paco’s body, we are overwhelmed with pride as an audience because she is protecting her child at all costs. Such circumstances are not solely Spanish, but universal.
The major factor of appeal for this film is the theme of mother-daughter relations. Almodovar said, “The emotions with your mother are the same everywhere.” The brilliant dynamic that Almodovar uses to depict mother-daughter relationships are universal. Raimunda and Sole’s relationship with their mother’s ‘spirit’ is demonstrative of how, regardless of how one may fight, a woman’s mother stays with her forever. Agustina’s dream of being reunited with her mother speaks poignantly to me in particular, as there is no tie stronger than that of a mother and daughter.
Almodovar’s film breaks any cultural convention, bringing foreign audiences of all kinds together with the universal themes and characters that are so bold and strong. These women, and their circumstances, strike the audience, regardless of what language they speak, at their hearts, and that is universal.

'Rear Window' and Semiotics in Columbani's Work

Laetitia Colombani’s film ‘He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not,’ takes the traditional concept of plot and twists it into an unrecognizable, terrifying storyline. Through careful deception, her film begins as a tragic love story and ends as a stalker thriller. This brilliant plot device is an innovative use of semiotics in film.
The class discussed the meaning of ‘semiotics’ when considering ‘He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not.’ The basic definition of semiotics is that there is always a signifier and something which is signified. The signifier represents the physical manifestation of a word, whereas the signified represents each person’s personal interpretation of that word. For example, the word ‘lamp’ brings a different image to each of us.
Traditionally, there is a continual metaphor in each film, novel, etc, that begins to represent a common theme, represented by something simple.
Colombani’s film puts that pattern on its ear, using the plot as the signified instead of a particular object. She puts onscreen the story of a woman obsessed, and yet, due to careful and clever editing, the audience’s interpretation is quite different. Instead of seeing the erotomaniac that Angelique is, we start the film with the image of a lovely woman who with too in love and mistreated to think rationally. As the film progresses, the signifier remains the same, but the signified changes in our minds as we realize that Loic is not, in fact, in love with her, and furthermore, has never been with her at all.
Another interesting use of this style of semiotics is Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Rear Window.’ ‘Rear Window’ was an excellent transition into the lesson about ‘He Loves Me…’ because it takes the same ingenious idea. The plot revolves around a man who believes that his neighbor is a murderer, and yet there is no proof, and so we the audience are led to believe that he is insane, only to discover that he was right all along. We think that we are watching a man slowly lose his mind, but instead we are watching a man discover something horrifying.
It was this conversation that spurred the realizations of the way that Colombani and Hitchcock each used semiotics to fulfill the message of their films. ‘Rear Window’ and ‘He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not’ have individually taken what we think we know and turned us on our heads, causing us to look deeper than before. Using semiotics, these two directors taught the class that first impressions are not always right.

Michel Gondry and the French New Wave

The French New Wave has influenced a great many filmmakers. Many directors have become inspired by the gritty, realistic, fighting style that the New Wave directors created. One of the most important aspects of the New Wave was the cinematography of the films. Hand-held cameras and quick jump editing were often used. It is this brand of style that has had repercussions into modern cinema.
One of the greatest examples of this style is showcased in the work of modern director Michel Gondry. While French himself, Gondry has worked in Hollywood for many years, working in diverse types of media, from music videos to feature films. What has remained consistent, however, is the innovative cinematography. Gondry uses hand held cameras to create a ‘home movie’ feel to his work. In his nouvelle-classic, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Gondry used brilliant special effects (which, I believe, while not exactly characteristic of the New Wave, is characteristic to the innovation and creativity of the directors of the New Wave) and shot with a single camera to allow for improvisation, which was especially significant to the freedom associated with the directors of the New Wave. Furthermore, the article assigned in class stated “Women were given strong parts that did not conform to the archetypical roles seen in most Hollywood cinema,” something that is also relevant to Eternal Sunshine, whose lead character was Clementine, a fiercely independent woman.
While not a direct homage to the New Wave, Michel Gondry’s style and film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind has brought the New Wave to modern eyes. The storyline of two extraordinary, if a bit eccentric people, with scenes of normal, and some might say bland interactions, combined with the choppy and personal style of filming creates a subtle reminder for all cine-philes of the finer points of the French New Wave.