Spanish Cinema Now ’11: José y Pilar

Forget one percenters. José Saramago, the first Portuguese winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature, and his considerably younger Spanish wife, Pilar del Río, must represent tenth-of-percenters in their respective countries. They are also avowed class warriors. It is a nice hypocrisy if you can afford and clearly they could, based on the evidence of Miguel Gonçalves Mendes’s hagiographic documentary, José y Pilar (trailer here), Portugal’s official submission for best foreign language Oscar consideration, which logically enough screens tomorrow during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s 2011 Spanish Cinema Now.

Saramago passed away in 2010, but when Gonçalves began filming in 2006, he was still quite a spry old-timer. Their friends constantly tell viewers what a storybook romance the two have and indeed some of that comes out when Saramago’s health begins to fail during the film’s second act. However, in the idyllic opening, it appears Saramago really just loves being a public intellectual who does not have to sweat the details of his touring schedule, whereas del Río loves being president of Saramago, Inc. Actually, it is a private foundation that must have saved them a bundle in estate taxes. She also makes a big deal about being called “Presidenta” in its feminine form, which gets to be a tiresome conversation the second or third time around.

Saramago’s admirers may very well enjoy listening to the tart-tongued old devil grousing about the house. However, it probably does not serve his literary legacy particularly well, largely presenting his work as a series of sarcastic aphorisms aimed at the God he rejected. It is also often difficult to reconcile the man of comfort with his Communist ideology. We watch scene after scene of the laureate refusing to inscribe personalizations at his book signings. Whatever happened to “from each according to his abilities?”

There are several witty one-liners sprinkled throughout the film, but Gonçalves and editor Cláudita Rita Oliveira were clearly too over-awed by their subjects, allowing repetitive sequences to pad J y P just beyond the two hour mark. Similarly sentimental reasons also probably explain why Portugal chose the documentary as their Oscar contender, when they could have also selected the late Raúl Ruiz’s elegant masterwork Mysteries of Lisbon instead. Given it was co-produced by the Spanish Pedro Almodóvar and Brazilian Fernando Meirelles, it is also a bit surprising it met the Academy’s stringent national purity qualifications. Evidently, if it is Iberian, it is close enough for Oscar.

Gonçalves certainly had intimate access to the power couple, but he is clearly not particularly interested in engaging viewers who are not already on their side of the mountain. As a result, despite some moments here and there, J y P should not be a high priority for Spanish Cinema Now patrons or Academy voters. It screens tomorrow (12/14) and Friday (12/16) at the Walter Reade Theater as part of the FSLC’s longest running annual film series.

Fortissimo Films at MoMA: Warriors of the Rainbow—Seediq Bale

For the aboriginal peoples indigenous to Taiwan, decapitating an enemy’s head in battle was an essential rite of manhood. In the early Twentieth Century, the occupying Japanese began the systematic suppression of aboriginal culture. It cost them a whole lot of heads though. Originally well over four hours long, Wei Te-sheng’s Warriors of the Rainbow: Sediq Bale (trailer here) is exactly the sort ambitious personal vision Fortissimo Films has a reputation for supporting. Appropriately, the two and a half hour international cut opened In Focus: Fortissimo Films, MoMA’s tribute to the influential film company.

Mouna Rudao was one of the fiercest Seediq warriors ever. When the Japanese confiscate his collection of skulls, they are duly impressed. Unfortunately, as chief he must watch as the old ways atrophy under their oppressive rule. The tattoos of manhood are becoming scarce. However, that all changes with the 1930 Wushe Uprising.

It started with a misunderstanding between Mouna’s family and the local Imperial authorities, snowballing from there. The Seediq forces strike first, ambushing the Japanese at a major sporting exhibition. Things only get bloodier thereafter. Frankly, Mouna knows their revolt is doomed to fail, but at least the young Seediq men will die as warriors, crossing over the Rainbow Bridge to their equivalent of Valhalla.

Submitted by Taiwan as their official foreign language Academy Award candidate, Rainbow will be released as two films in most Asian markets. However, the edited and cobbled together international version makes perfect sense from a narrative standpoint and includes plenty of Braveheart style action. One suspects the axe fells disproportionately heavily on the female cast, including the great Vivian Hsu, who are rarely seen in the 150 minute cut until a devastating scene late in the picture.

It is too bad Mel Gibson went more or less insane, because he would have been the perfect celebrity “presenter” for Rainbow. There are death-scenes that will make you exclaim out loud. Yet, despite the frequent references to the Rainbow Bridge, there is little mystical or New Agey about the film, at least in its international configuration. It also resists the temptation to glorify Seediq traditionalism, unequivocally suggesting tribalism undermined their efforts to defeat the Imperial Japanese with a united front.

Lin Ching-Tai is all business as the steely old Mouna. He might just the best middle-aged action hero since the Eastwood of decades ago. Yet, young Lin Yuan-Jie might be the most engaging member of the cast. There is absolutely nothing cute or cloying about his riveting work as Pawan Nawi. Japanese actor Sabu Kawahara also somehow manages to elevate the role of the stereotypically severe General Kamada Yahiko, while Chie Tanaka is memorably vulnerable as the wife of a somewhat sympathetic officer.

Rainbow parallels the pronounced trend in recent Mainland and Hong Kong films to depict Japanese characters in explicitly villainous terms. Indeed, the impulse constantly refight WWII is becoming rather suspicious. Be that as it may or may not be, there is no denying Rainbow delivers the epic action goods. This is a big, bloody picture, worth serious consideration for the foreign language Oscar and a perfect example of the bold filmmaking fostered by Fortissimo. One hopes the full epic will soon be shown in New York (it seems a logical fit for next year’s NYAFF), but for now, the international cut is definitely recommended when it screens again this Sunday (11/20) at MoMA.

Elite Squad: Nascimento vs. Everyone

Watch out for those left wing academics. They will steal your wife and poison your son against you. At least that is what happened to Colonel Nascimento, the leader of Rio’s SWAT team equivalent, the Special Police Operation Battalion, or BOPE in the Portuguese acronym. However, Nascimento still finds himself working with his nemesis to bring down a crypto-fascist criminal empire run by crooked cops and politicians in José Padilha’s Elite Squad: The Enemy Within (trailer here), Brazil’s official Academy Award submission for best foreign language film, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Diogo Fraga is the Brazilian Al Sharpton. Whenever the inmates riot (which is often), they send for him to act as a “mediator.” However, when the latest standoff gets tense, Fraga starts to look like a legit hostage. When Nascimento’s protgege Matias sees his shot, he takes his shot, as per BOPE training. Unfortunately, the resulting blood splatter all over Fraga’s peace t-shirt is too rich not to exploit in the media, even if was meant to save his behind. As the officer in charge, Nascimento bears the brunt of Fraga’s protests, but the fearful public is completely behind the officer. Left with only one recourse, the politicians kick him upstairs to some sort of homeland security position.

Suddenly, Nascimento is setting criminal justice policy on a state level. He gives BOPE the resources they always needed and turns them loose on the cartels. Actually, it works too well, leaving a vacuum to be filled by “The System,” a ruthless syndicate run by crooked cops and hypocritical “law & order” politicians.

Evidently, Padilha must have been stung by the criticism of the first Elite Squad as an endorsement shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later vigilantism, considering how far he swings the pendulum over in Enemy Within. Now it is depose first and ask follow-up questions later in committee hearings.

At least Wagner Moura is still the ever-popular Nascimento, who looks like a non-descript everyman, but is a seriously bad hard-nose. His no nonsense presence helps redeem Enemy from its constant attempts at redemption through sociopolitical relevancy. In a standout supporting turn, André Ramiro brings a scary intensity to the tightly wound Matias. Brazilian music lovers should also keep an eye out for superstar vocalist Seu Jorge, appearing early in the film as powerful drug kingpin.

There are some tightly executed action sequences in Enemy, lensed in uber-flashy style by cinematographer Lula Carvalho, but it is ultimately undone by its didactic political subplots. After all, one doubts many favela residents would identify over-zealous policing as the greatest problem they face. While not without its moments, Enemy just tries too hard for respectability. For series fans, it opens tomorrow (11/11) in New York at the AMC Empire.

SF International Animation Fest ’11: Tatsumi

Yoshihiro Tatsumi could be called the Japanese Will Eisner. Tatsumi was the leading exponent of Gekiga, or serious manga that tackled adult story lines. Americans that are very hip or awfully geeky will already know Tatsumi’s work, particularly his Eisner winning graphic novel-autobiography, A Drifting Life. For the rest of us, Singaporean Eric Khoo’s Tatsumi (trailer here) serves as a compelling introduction to his career and stories. Singapore’s official submission for best foreign language Academy Award consideration, Khoo’s animated tribute-biography screens at the San Francisco Film Society’s upcoming 2011 San Francisco International Animation Festival.

Tatsumi was ten when World War II ended. Somewhat logically, the American occupation and economic revival of Japan would factor prominently in his life and that of his characters. Khoo intersperses five notable Tatsumi stories, mostly in black-and-white, amid his vivid color adaption of the Gekiga pioneer’s memoir. Psychologically complex and deeply flawed, it is clear how Tatsumi’s characters were shaped by their creator’s experiences. In fact, it is easy to conflate them with Tatsumi, particularly the unfortunate artist in Occupied.

Each of the five would stand alone as satisfying self-contained short films. However, the most powerful of the collected stories comes first, by virtue of chronology. Hell forthrightly addresses the horrors of Hiroshima and its aftermath, but it takes viewers to some unexpectedly dark places, undercutting simplistic moral judgments. Throughout all five stories, there is a profound sense of alienation, often prodding the protagonists to commit shockingly anti-social acts out of existential compulsion, but their actions are always understandable, in a sadly human way.

Though his life was never as lurid as that of his marginalized characters, Tatsumi’s early years were marked by considerable pain and want. Khoo structures the film in a way that really emphasizes how these struggles instilled a humanistic empathy in Tatsumi, embracing those who were downtrodden and even grotesque. Ultimately, it is rather inspiring to see the artist rise from such mean circumstances to become an acknowledged leader of his field.

Rendered by Singapore-based creative animation director Phil Mitchell in a style akin to Tatsumi’s, the film’s animation is deceptively simple, but eerily expressive. Tatsumi’s warm voice also narrates the biographical portions of the film bearing his name, forging a further connection with viewers.

It really says something when Singapore’s film establishment selects a film about a Japanese artist to represent the country with Academy Award voters. Yet, the film’s undeniable artistry and Khoo’s international reputation had to be a compelling combination leading to its submission. Indeed, this is a richly rewarding film that deserves serious consideration. Not just for manga readers, Tatsumi is enthusiastically recommended for broad-based general audiences when it screens this Friday (11/11) and Sunday (11/13) as part of the SFFS’s International Animation Festival at the New People Cinema.