The Bypass (2003), short film review by Loubna FLAH.

Two roads diverged in the desert, an unfortunate couple took the least travelled by and that made all the difference. Written and directed by British film maker Amit Kumar, The Bypass takes the audience in the midst of a merciless environment where the notion of Humanity is ruthlessly snapped.

The film opens with a couple driving through the desert and swerving suddenly towards a bypass route.  On the roadside, two brutal bandits hide behind the dunes waiting for their prey. The couple is brutally slain and then looted by the bandits. A policeman (Irrfan Khan) on his motorbike stops at the accident’s site. Ironically, he is not bothered by the murder itself. He looks for left spoils and picks a golden watch.  A series of murders revolving around   the belongings of the slaughtered couple follows.

Nawazuddin Siddiqui’s genuine performance and his pensive looks are irresistibly expressive. The mute bandit played by Sundar Dan Detha is puzzling and his “psychopath” side is shockingly convincing. Irrfan Khan, the policeman delivers once again an implacable performance.

The characters in The Bypass emulate the sternness of the arid weather. Rape, theft and murder constitute the modus Vivendi in this side of India’s dry Rajasthan. The film dispenses admirably with verbal language. The characters do not utter any intelligible sound except for the grunts of the mute bandit and the screams of the raped woman.

The dog-eat-dog pattern in the film is reminiscent of Hobbes’state of nature  where the social contract has not been signed yet. The course of events is vengeance-driven. The murderer is slaughtered and the one who cuts the woman throat is killed by another woman. In the midst of this mayhem, a spirit of divine justice restores a state of homeostasis in the desert. Bypass is a raw piece of art that reinvents the definition of cinematic authenticity.

Understanding Short Films

       

         Contrary to the common belief, short films are not an abridged version of feature movies. Short movies represent a self enclosed category which has the capacity to deliver an idiosyncratic cinematic effect. The running time of short films is noticeably shorter. It goes from 4 to 40 minutes which makes them less demanding as regards the making budget and the logistical means required (Busch 2007)*.

      Short movies usually display few characters and handful of  locations. Their verbal language is intensely condensed and can be even absent making the audience more inquisitive and more participative than usual. But the real challenge for the audience lies in the intricacy of causality relations between the scenes. Short films can be expository, informative or didactic and they revolve around a single theme.

    As regards, the structure of the narrative, short films may include a clear exposition and a climax but rarely do they give the audience the gift of an unambiguous ending. If the short film represents the ancestor of feature films, it has confirmed successfully its status as a distinct cinematic genre.

* Busch, David(2007). The Short Screenplay.

Dancer in the Dark ( 2000), Movie Review by Loubna FLAH

                         

 

“To be honest I really don’t care” is not simply a line from Lars Von Trier's musical Dancer in the Dark. The statement epitomizes a mood of cynicism diligently masterminded by the director. The movie is imbued with an unwavering skepticism about the promises of Eisenhower’s America and life in general. Dancer in the Dark loosens connections with logic and betrays all expectations of coherence. The choice of the musical genre sounds like a sarcastic laugh at the attempts to rationalize life.

Selma, a Czech immigrant and a single mother who works in a factory lives a condition of Comodification to use Marxist terms. Her task consists of pressing large metallic plates one after the other. She loses sight gradually but pretends to be a normal worker so as not to lose her job. Selma escapes this vortex by withdrawing in a musical world where “ nothing dreadful ever happens”. 

She strives to save every penny for her son’s eye operation. Selma lives with her bespectacled boy in a trailer rent by a cop named Bill (David Morse) in what seems initially as a friendly and protective atmosphere. Bill is engrossed in a financial anxiety exacerbated   by his wife’s colossal spending.  Selma appears at first as Bill’s close friend but the type of relation they share is unclear. The story takes a dramatic turn when Bill steals Selma’s savings. The spiral of events takes Selma behind bars where she waits for a death sentence.

Bjork, the famous Icelandic singer is deglamorized from head to toe so as to fit in the skin of an alienated, frail, Czech immigrant. One must admit that her performance is beyond praise. Bjork sets the path for an avant-gardist acting style loaded with striking authenticity paired with implausible characterization. Peter Stromare plays admirably the role of Jeff, a simpleminded man who is persistently persuaded that Selma may accept him as a boyfriend. The only voice of logic incarnated in the film is that of Kathy played by French diva Catherine Deneuve who questions Selma’s choice for self-sacrifice.

The opening images of Dancer in the Dark may trigger a feeling of discomfort with the bouncing work of hand cameras. But the viewer gets used quickly to this unconventional style of shooting as Selma’s lovable character unfolds itself.

Viewers looking for plausibility may be disappointed. Dancer in the Dark is deliberately absurd and cynical. Lars Von Trier makes the choice of implausibility and it becomes clear that he is not operating at the literal level. His movie is metaphorical and metonymical both in form and content. The escapade into the world of musicals marks the disconnect with reality. It is a staunch disavowal towards the morose life of the American proletariat whose prospects of social ascension are aborted on a daily basis.

Yet, Lars Von Trier’s cynicism never fails to shock the viewer. Selma is forced to leave the musical rehearsals and withdraws gradually into darkness. The Danish director leaves his heavy signature on the movie when Selma is executed. This unpredictable outcome leaves the audience puzzled  as regards the real meaning of happiness.

Does Selma represent hope or does she epitomize the fall of the tragic hero. One think is sure; the movie achieves the cathartic effect of the Greek tragedies. So don’t forget to have a handkerchief nearby and enjoy the movie.

Baran, Movie Review

                       No one can contest the might of the cinematic image in conveying the inner essence of things. Yet, we seem more often avid of hearing rather than watching. We are seemingly more preoccupied with the implications of dialogues. Thus, the image as a unit in the complex language of cinema is considered as a subordinate to the spoken lines or no more than an accompanying item that is attached to the dialogue to add a touch of authenticity to the plot. “Baran” (which means rain in Farsi) written and directed by Majid Majidi is the kind of film that restores to the cinematic image its glow. In Baran, silence definitely speaks louder than all the eloquent words. Baran assuredly celebrates the expressive functions of silence.
                      The film relates the plight of Afghan refugees who fled the war to the Iranian capital Tehran.  Lateen is a 17 years lad who serves tea in a construction site managed by a foreman named Memar. His quarrelsome temper causes him  to switch his job with Rahmat  the son of an Afghani worker  Najaf who has recently broke his leg as he was working illegally in the construction site.  Being in a dire need of income, Najaf sends his 14 year old son to replace him at work.  Memar the foreman pities the man’s situation and accepts to hire the young boy as bricklayer despite his frail silhouette.  Unsatisfied with the manual labour, Lateef  tries to sabotage Rahmat’s work as an act of retaliation. One day he pours paint on him from the top of a high building. Rahmat locks himself in the kitchen to change his clothes. As Lateef approaches the tea room he is baffled to hear a feminine voice singing. He is more astonished when he realizes that Rahmat is a girl.
                            Ashamed of his vindictive attitude, he repents by being protective of her and falls gradually in love with her hidden grace. He ventures to fight with labour inspectors who chase Rahmat.  Persecuted by the inspectors, the Afghani woman finds no available work but lifting heavy stones from the banks of  a fast flowing river. He decides to offer her father all his saving anonymously through a common friend.  Najaf in a compassionate gesture gives the money to his friend who goes back to Afghanistan. Rahmat feels Lateef’s interest but remains enshrined in a divine silence.  She does not utter a word during all their face to face scenes. Lateef is distraught when Najaf tells him that he is leaving with his family to Afghanistan. As he helps her father to carry their modest furniture, Lateef exchanged a last but  long and soulful glances that mirror  their perplexed feeling .
                           Majidi the screen play writer triumphs with a compelling plot that lures the viewer smoothly to the world of construction workers in Tehran‘s cold winter. The most striking feature of the story line is its refined subtlety as it unfolds gradually. The lack of suspense techniques undermines by no token the films’ appeal. In fact, the purity of feelings shaped by the protagonist’s crudeness under the weight of life constraints leaves the viewer in a hypnotic state and overwhelming sympathy. The director himself drives the characters towards   to standstill where they can snatch swift moments of uplifting experiences with their own souls that was unthinkable.  The intensity of feelings is further heightened during the milk ceremony scene where Rahmat is dressed in women clothes with a green chador around her shoulder while Lateed few steps from her is unaware of her presence.  The color choice is no coincidence since green in Islam is identified with spiritual uplifting journeys.
                        Hussain Abdeni in the role of Lateef is intensely believable and authentic . He handles admirably the coming of age of his round character and the transformation though noticeable remains in  an estranging harmony of the character’s evolution.  Zahra Bahrami( Rahmat) does not need to engage in verbal communication. She can convey streams of sensations through the piercing look of her puffy eyes. Her performance has the power to convert all the agnostic minds to the creed of human goodness.  Reza Naji (Memar) versatility is no longer disputed. He embodies  his role as a kind hearted foreman with a rare supremacy that it becomes hard to disentangle the fiction man from the actor.
                        Baran transforms the grim and half exposed construction site into limpid brooks flowing unconstrained smoothing the rough edges of the newly built brick walls. Majid Majidi exposes bashfully the immaculacy of human feelings in a tale though set in modern Iran seems reminiscent from an early age legend.