Dancer in the Dark.
Selma, a Czechoslovakian immigrant, cheats on an eye test in order to keep her factory job in 1960’s Washington. She suffers from a degenerative eye disease that will render her blind within a year; an affliction that is unknowingly inherited by her twelve year-old son, Gene. Selma saves up her pay checks so that by Gene’s next birthday he can have an operation that can save his sight; he rarely receives gifts and Selma finds it difficult to accept charity, even a second hand bike from her friendly neighbours Bill and Linda, whose property she rents a trailer on. Musicals are her escape from reality; when not rehearsing for her part as Maria in a local production of The Sound of Music or watching Hollywood musicals in the cinema with best friend and co-worker Kathy, Selma fantasises that her life is a musical, imagining songs from the factory equipment. The optimism and happiness that once surrounded Selma begins to deteriorate, along with her vision, though not even this will stop her musical fantasies. Alternately shot in muted colours via handheld camera (à la director Lars von Trier’s Dogme 95 movement) to give a documentary feel for dramatic scenes, and multiple still cameras with saturated colours for musical numbers, Dancer in the Dark is an audacious yet mesmerising piece that is at the same time bleak, tragic, joyous and inspirational. Björk is perfect in the lead role, the entire film can easily be imagined as a concept album of hers, while her issues with von Trier and emotional difficulties on set are well documented. A brilliantly moving pastiche of the musical genre.
Magnolia.
Inept police officer, Jim, is overlooked and mocked by his colleagues; investigating a noise complaint, he meets Claudia, a cocaine addict whose earlier argument with her estranged father had resulted in the police intervention. The father in question, Jimmy, hosts a TV quiz show where contestants compete against children, and had been attempting to reconcile with his daughter following a diagnosis of terminal cancer. The newest child prodigy on Jimmy’s show, Stanley, is demeaned by adults as well as his abusive father, Rick. Donnie, a salesman at an electronics store, is a former prodigy on the show but is now in debt after his parents kept his winnings. The show’s former producer, Earl, is also dying of cancer, cared for by his trophy wife, Linda, and his nurse, Phil. Earl’s estranged son, Frank, is a misogynistic self help guru / pick up artist who hosts seminars that vilify women and glorifies “penis power”. A rich tapestry of interwoven lives and experiences, Magnolia is writer and director Paul Thomas Anderson’s three-hour epic masterpiece of humanity and all the emotions such a condition entails. A supremely talented cast (Tom Cruise, Julianne Moore, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Jason Robards (in his final film role), William H Macy & John C Reilly to name a few) are captured superbly through some gorgeously elegant camera work including more than a couple of Anderson’s trademark enthralling long takes. Moving, funny, entertaining, tragic, harrowing; this one will take it out of you.
In the Mood for Love.
On the same day in Hong Kong, 1962, two strangers, Mr Chow, a journalist, and Mrs Chan, a secretary, move into adjacent apartments. Mrs Chan’s husband is constantly out of the country on business, bringing back gifts for his wife and neighbours; Mr Chow’s wife is likewise rarely seen, as she works late shifts and arrives home to an already asleep husband. Initially only passing acquaintances frequenting the same noodle stall, Mr Chow and Mrs Chan develop a relationship over a fondness of martial arts serials; things change however when they discover they have far more in common than they realised. Wonderfully elegant classical music segments; clever, sleek camerawork; exquisite use of colour. In the Mood for Love is visual poetry, a stunningly beautiful film. The performances of the two leads are terrific, as they reveal the tragically profound romance between their characters. An all too human story that trumps any romantic drama released out of Hollywood since.
Bringing Out the Dead.
New York City in the early 90s. Hospital paramedic, Frank Pierce, has had a bad couple of months; he’s been unable to save anyone, he’s lost confidence in himself, he’s visibly exhausted and is desperate to be fired from a job he once loved, with his boss refusing this request despite constant lateness. Frank is haunted by the patients he was unable to save, in particular a woman called Rose, he remains unable to sleep and drinks every day to drown out the voices of the ghosts. Responding to a call of a man suffering a cardiac arrest, Frank restores his pulse, but upon arriving at the packed hospital where heart attack sufferers, AIDS patients and users of a new dangerous form of heroin called “Red Death” line the corridors, the doctor informs him that the man’s chance of survival, let alone his return of cognitive function, is low. Frank reports the man’s condition to his estranged daughter Mary, whom Frank befriends over three increasingly manic nights; Frank is paired with a different partner each shift and events become more absurd as Frank loses his grip on reality. Martin Scorsese’s Bringing Out the Dead is an interesting inspection of a jaded health worker; a profession thought to be the last line of defence against death, the responsibility and pressure on these people is staggering. Scorsese dedicated this film to the New York City “heroes” that helped his own parents for years, and a deep gratitude and admiration is felt throughout. A thought-provoking, gripping psychological drama that ought to affect one’s attitude to health workers.
The Insider.
Middle class suburban man, Jeffrey Wigand, returns home after being fired from his job as head of research and development at huge tobacco company, Brown & Williamson. CBS producer, Lowell Bergman, during a typically hectic day, receives an anonymous package containing technical documents from a tobacco company; he seeks to consult Wigand on the translation of the documents into standard English, but his interest is piqued when Wigand, after reluctantly agreeing to the translation, refuses to divulge any other information, citing a non-disclosure agreement. When Wigand is threatened by his former employers, who try to coerce him into a stricter agreement, Bergman realises that the tobacco industry are scared of Wigand and wishes to investigate the story; Wigand himself is reluctant to jeopardise his severance package, that includes medical care for his severely asthmatic daughter, by revealing anything to Bergman. As the threats by B&W escalate, Wigand finally reveals the truth in a damning 60 Minutes interview, though the tobacco industry will do whatever it takes to make sure it never reaches the public. Director Michael Mann applies the same intensity to The Insider as he did to 1995’s Heat, and the result is now less thrilling. An absorbing, action-packed, biographical account of one man’s ability to seek the truth, another man’s to speak it and the power of an industry to silence them both.
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