Global Lens 2009: I am from Titov Veles

Many Communist-era industrial behemoths are still around, continuing to plague the environment in former Warsaw Pact countries. Macedonian’s Titov-Veles, now known simply as Veles, is one such city dominated by a carcinogenic white elephant. Its dreary backdrop dominates Teona Strugar Mitevska’s I am from Titov Veles (trailer here), which screens again in New York at the MoMA as part of the Global Lens 2009 series (series trailer here), after closing the 2008 Macedonian Film Festival.

The blight of Veles accentuates the bleak desperation of three sisters’ lives. The eldest Slavica is a recovering heroin addict looking for economic security. Sapho, the middle sister, is obsessed with immigrating out of Macedonia. Deeply affected by their mother’s desertion and father’s subsequent death, the youngest, Afrodita, desperately clings to her older, deeply flawed sisters. Since their mother left, she has not spoken a word out loud, and might even have difficulty fully distinguishing fantasy from reality.

Mitevska portrays a rootless Macedonian, where jobs are scarce and immigration information is discussed in much the same way New Yorkers trade real estate anecdotes. Given the tremendous continuing human and environmental costs of what the press notes call “forceful socialist industrialization,” it is understandable Afrodita’s sisters are looking for a way out. However, when they find apparent escape from the doldrums of Veles, they leave behind Afrodita, in much the same manner their mother did to the entire family years before. Ill-prepared for life on her own, Afrodita’s perceptions and judgments becomes ever more questionable. Likewise, Mitevska’s narrative becomes increasingly subjective, seemingly giving Afrodita’s fantasies equal footing with ostensive reality.

In other words, Titov is most definitely a festival picture. Unfailingly patient, Mitevska lets her distinctive visuals unfold at a very deliberate pace. Often we watch Afrodita from odd angles, observing events at ankle level or over her shoulder. At other times, we see her fully exposed during moments of such vulnerability, the film feels intrusive. Mitevska’s sister and producer, Labina Mitevska, carries the entire emotional weight of the film as the lost Afrodita. It is a powerful performance, holding up well under the scrutiny of director Mitevska’s unforgiving lens.

Somehow Mitevska has crafted a film that is both impressionistic and naturalistic. While casting a critical eye on contemporary Macedonian culture, particularly the gender attitudes of the brutish men the sisters encounter, Titov is a very personal story and a demanding film. Although it might not sound like a Chamber of Commerce promotional film, was Macedonia’s Academy submission for best foreign language. While it failed to make the shortlist, it is a serious, but worthy film. It screens at MoMA this Wednesday (1/21) and Sunday (1/25).

Submitted for the Academy’s Approval

Between the documentary and foreign language film divisions, it is hard to say which set of byzantine regulations have created more embarrassing omissions for the Academy Awards. Strictly speaking, it is the best foreign language film, not simply the best picture international cinema had to offer. If a film has too much English dialogue, it will be disqualified, like last year’s The Band’s Visit from Israel. Academy voters do not simply nominate their favorite foreign films either. Each country (and occasionally Puerto Rico) chooses one submission each year. This year, ninety-four countries have submitted films that met the Academy’s qualifications. That’s a whole lot of dark horses jockeying for one of five slots, when the nominating polls close tonight at 5:00 PM P.S.T.

If this were March Madness, I would pick Israel’s Waltz with Bashir to go all the way. Critical of its own military during the 1982 military incursion into Lebanon, Ari Folman’s animated film appeals to Hollywood’s anti-war prejudices and could be seen as even more topical in light of Israel recent offensive against Hamas’s apparatus of terror. Having won the Golden Globe last night, the Israeli submission seems to have all the momentum in this category. The Academy has also already shafted Bashir in the documentary category, disqualifying it for opening after the late August deadline, so there could also be a guilt factor working in its favor.

In Norway, Odd is a name. In New York, it is an inadequate adjective. Odd Horten is maybe a bit strange, but the protagonist of Norway’s O’Horten (trailer here) is really just a taciturn, reserved Scandinavian gentlemen, facing the uncertainty of his impending retirement from the Norwegian railway. Directed with exquisite deliberation by Bent Hamer, O’Horten vividly captures the snowy vistas and long dark nights that delineated Horten’s well regulated existence. It might be more than a tad slow for some viewers, but Hamer has a keen visual sense and Baard Owe is excellent in the challenging lead role. Without the benefit of any overt expressions of emotion, he perfectly conveys the essence of Horten’s scrupulously guarded soul.

Many commentators give O’Horten at least an outside shot at sneaking past one of the favorites for a nomination. Despite its chilly Nordic exterior, O’Horten has a warm heart that should appeal to Academy voters. It also has the advantage of an American distributor. Look for a full review here when it releases theatrically in April

Macedonian’s Titov-Veles, now known simply as Veles, is dominated by a carcinogenic white elephant leftover from the age of Soviet industrial behemoths. Its dreary backdrop dominates Teona Strugar Mitevska’s I am from Titov Veles (trailer here), which has had some festival distribution here and there.

The blight of Veles accentuates the bleak desperation of three sisters’ lives. Deeply affected by their mother’s desertion and father’s subsequent death, the youngest, Afrodita, desperately clings to her seriously flawed older sisters. Mitevska’s narrative becomes increasingly subjective, seemingly giving Afrodita’s fantasies equal footing with ostensive reality. In other words, Titov is most definitely a festival picture. While casting a critical eye on contemporary Macedonian culture, particularly the gender attitudes of the brutish men the sisters encounter, Mitevska has somehow crafted a film that is both impressionistic and naturalistic. It deserves all due respect, but it is the darkest of dark horses. It screens again at MoMA on January 21st and 25th.

Sometimes, the popular pick might not be the best foot to put forward. India nominated Taare Zameen Par, the story of a dyslexic boy who is misunderstood by his parents and abused by teachers and students alike, until an interim art teacher arrives and solves all his problems in one montage sequence. Its heart might be in the right place, and raising awareness of learning disabilities in India may well be a worthy endeavor, but TZP is cloyingly precious. Aside from the new art teacher’s first day in class (heard in the trailer), the film’s musical interludes lack the over-the-top Bollywood panache, more closely resembling lame Nickelodeon videos instead. It might be beloved by the millions who saw it on satellite TV, but it is not going to make the cut.

Given the subject matter, Thailand’s The Love of Siam (trailer here) might initially sound like it has an outside chance. After the mysterious disappearance of his older sister, young Tong’s family moves away from the painful memories of their formerly happy home. In the process, he is separated from Mew, his best friend living across the street. Years later, they run into each other as high school students, and their rekindled friendship evolves into homosexual attraction. Unfortunately, overwrought does not sufficiently describe the melodrama of Siam. Particularly cheesy are the ballads Mew sings with his up-and-coming boy band. It has no shot.

For the record, here are my predictions (but not necessarily my recommendations): France’s The Class, Israel’s Waltz with Bashir, Norway’s O’Horten, Italy’s Gomorra, and Germany’s Baader-Meinhof Complex. That would give Sony Classics sixty percent of the nominations. Hopefully more dark horse films will secure American distribution by virtue of their submission, because several sound quite intriguing. Based on what I have seen so far, I will hope against hope for Titov.

Update: The shortlist has just been released. O’Horten misses the cut, which is slightly surprising. The real controversy though is the exclusion of Italy’s Gommorah, which was a critical favorite (look for a review here next month). Some of its champions are downright apoplectic. Three films on the list, from Mexico, Canada, and Turkey, had yet to secure a U.S. distributor, so maybe one will get a second or third look. Without Gomorrah in the running Bashir becomes a lead-pipe cinch. The full short list is: Austria’s Revanche, Canada’s The Necessities of Life, Germany’s The Baader Meinhof Complex, Israel’s Waltz with Bashir, Japan’s Departures, Mexico’s Tear This Heart Out, Sweden’s Everlasting Moments, and Turkey’s 3 Monkeys.

Macedonian Film Festival: Milcho Manchevski

While Milcho Manchevski’s greatest claim to international fame might be as the director of the first Macedonian film nominated for the best foreign language Academy Award, he probably deserves far more credit for inspiring a host of films that in various ways fracture linear narrative. Told in a triptych which forms a circular narrative, Manchevski’s Before the Rain (trailer here), made its European festival debut weeks ahead of Pulp Fiction, yet it would be Tarantino’s film that would be credited (or blamed) for a parade of non-linear imitators. In advance of the January 30th New York opening of Manchevski’s latest film, Shadows, the director’s first two films closed the Macedonian Film Festival Sunday night.

Rain begins and ends in Macedonian, but its middle story is set in London. The film was in fact a British-Macedonian co-production, at a time when the British government did not recognize that of Macedonia. As befits its title, a storm is always approaching in Rains, both the meteorological and human varieties. In “Words,” the first chapter, Kiril, a young monk who has taken a vow of silence, gives shelter to Zamira, a young Albanian girl running from a lynch mob. After his act of sanctuary results in his own expulsion from the monastery, Kiril mentions an uncle in London might be able to help them, and that is indeed where Manchevski shifts the action with “Faces.” The Pulitzer Prize winning photo-journalist Aleksandar Kirkov is returning to the city after an assignment in Bosnia that profoundly disturbed him. After resigning, he tells his photo-editor and illicit lover he is returning to Macedonian, with or without her. She declines to leave despite her dubious feelings for her husband. However, the violence she had only experienced vicariously through Kirkov’s lens erupts into her own world when a Serbian rivalry turns violent in a posh London restaurant.

The longest segment, “Pictures,” tells the story of Kirkov’s problematic homecoming. As he approaches his native village, he disarms a petulant teenager standing guard with a machine gun. At times Kirkov resembles Eastwood’s Man with No Name, except instead of a former gunslinger, Kirkov is a retired photographer. However, we eventually learn that his camera has actually killed people. Although more familiar to American audiences for sinister roles on Fox’s 24 and in films like Eyes Wide Shut and The Saint, Rade Šerbedžija gives one of the best screen performances of the 1990’s as Kirkov, the celebrated observer forced to chose sides and participate.

Clearly, the spaghetti westerns were a pronounced influence on Manchevski, because he would incorporate the genre into his second film, Dust. Told in flashback by Angela, an elderly woman, to her would-be robber “Edge,” Manchevski weaves a Munchausen-esque fable about Cain and Abel brothers who start in the Old West, but travel to the wild East of Macedonia, as it revolts against the Ottoman Empire. Again, Manchevski plays narrative games, but the intrusion of elements from disparate time periods is often distractingly played for comedic effect.

The strongest scenes of the film are actually the least mythical. Rosemary Murphy and Adrian Lester convincingly sell the unlikely relationship between Edge and Angela. Unfortunately, neither brother is particularly interesting. Joseph Fiennes’s Elijah is a caricature of religious zealotry, while David Wenham is somewhat more nuanced as Luke, who is incapable of true emotional engagement, except when killing people.

Dust is a big, ambitious film that ultimately got away from Manchevski. Rains however, is a contemporary masterpiece that reveals increasingly greater depths with each viewing. In Rains, characters fantastically reappear in various times and places to further challenge the overall narrative thread. Yet, Manchevski’s execution is subtle, never directly interfering with the events on-screen. Ultimately, the cycle of violence continues, as the story doubles back, forming a complete circuit. Evidently, Sergio Leone was not his only influence. During last night’s Q&A, Manchevski explained the first part of the film’s repeated mantra: “Time never dies, the circle is not round” was in fact inspired by Chick Corea’s Mad Hatter album.

Given his international success, the Manchevski double-feature made a fitting closing night for the Macedonian Film Festival. Rains is a member of several exclusive cinematic clubs: the Venice Film Festival’s Golden Lion, the New York Times’ “Best 1,000 Films Ever Made,” and a Criterion Collection DVD treatment. Though flawed, Dust is still fascinating filmmaking, worth seeing simply to compare with future Manchevski films, like the forthcoming Shadows.

Macedonian Film Festival: I am from Titov Veles

Many Communist-era industrial behemoths are still around, continuing to plague the environment in former Warsaw Pact countries. Macedonian’s Titov-Veles, now known simply as Veles, is one such city dominated by a carcinogenic white elephant. Its dreary backdrop dominates Teona Strugar Mitevska’s I am from Titov Veles (trailer here), which opened the Macedonian Film Festival last night.

The blight of Veles accentuates the bleak desperation of three sisters’ lives. The eldest Slavica is a recovering heroin addict looking for economic security. Sapho, the middle sister, is obsessed with immigrating out of Macedonia. Deeply affected by their mother’s desertion and father’s subsequent death, the youngest, Afrodita, desperately clings to her older sisters. Since their mother left, she has not spoken a word out loud, and might even have difficulty fully distinguishing fantasy from reality.

Mitevska portrays a rootless Macedonian, where jobs are scarce and immigration information is discussed in much the same way New Yorkers trade real estate anecdotes. Given the tremendous continuing human and environmental costs of what the press notes call “forceful socialist industrialization,” it is understandable Afrodita’s sisters are looking for a way out. However, when they find apparent escape from the doldrums of Veles, they leave behind Afrodita, in much the manner their mother did to the family years before. Ill-prepared for life on her own, Afrodita’s perceptions and judgments becomes ever more questionable. Likewise, Mitevska’s narrative becomes increasingly subjective, seemingly giving Afrodita’s fantasies equal footing with ostensive reality.

In other words, Titov is most definitely a festival picture. Unfailingly patient, Mitevska lets her distinctive visuals unfold at a very deliberate pace. Often we watch Afrodita from odd angles, observing events at ankle level or over her shoulder. At other times, we see her fully exposed during moments of such vulnerability, the film feels intrusive. Mitevska’s sister and producer, Labina Mitevska, carries the entire emotional weight of the film as the lost Afrodita. She is quite convincing, holding up well under the scrutiny of director Mitevska’s unforgiving lens.

Somehow Mitevska has crafted a film that is both impressionistic and naturalistic. While casting a critical eye on contemporary Macedonian culture, particularly the gender attitudes of the brutish men the sisters encounter, Titov is a very personal story and a demanding film. Although it might not sound like a Chamber of Commerce promotional film, Macedonia has selected it as its official best foreign language film submission for the upcoming Academy Awards, in hopes of repeating Macedonia’s success in 1994 with the nomination of Milcho Manchevski’s Before the Rain, which will close the festival with a special screening Sunday. The Macedonian Film Festival continues through the weekend, and Titov will screen again in New York this coming January at MoMA.