So I watched more than 30 movies in August, in my defence some were short films so… but tbh I had a blast so I don’t really need to excuse myself. Cinema is one of my biggest passions and from time to time I’ll get completely consumed by it and thats kind of what happened this past month.
Find out what films and books I read in August:
Undine is an exquisite and hypnotic reimagining of the Undine myth set in modern-day Berlin.
The German romantic drama film is by one of the countries most celebrated directors, Christian Petzold and stars critically acclaimed actors Paula Beer and Franz Rogowski as lovers, Undine and Christoph. Undine had its premiere at the 70th Berlin International Film Festival, where it was shown in competition for the coveted Gold Bear Award. The film ultimately secured Beer with the Silver Bear for Best Actress for her mesmerising performance as a reluctant water nymph.
In Undine, Paula Beer and Franz Rogowski are reunited with their Transit director, and let me say this trio is magical. The chemistry between Beer and Rogowski is electric here, and I found myself completely enamoured by Undine and Christoph’s courtship. They may have a semi unbelievable first encounter where a fish tank shatters, but it certainly is an enchanting one, and that’s down to the way Petzold shoots the moment. It’s a moment full of whimsy, but it juxtaposes nicely with the rather unfortunate breakup Undine suffers at the beginning of the film.
Petzold himself said in an interview with Indiewire, “As the water pours over them, they’re lying next to each other like on a beach. They open their eyes like a rebirthing scene, wet with mud and old fish. They look at each other, and the first thing they see are the eyes of the other. That’s a good start for a love story.”
I also like the fact that their courting after this almost magical first encounter takes place in ordinary and unremarkable places, which Petzold does deliberately. In a talk with fellow German director Heinz Emigholz and NYFF program director Dennis Lim, he said he didn’t want to film the love story in romantic locations. Petzold instead opted to use ordinary spaces so that the romance can ‘bewitch’ these places and transform them from something banal to something other. He also refers to a line from a poem by Joseph von Eichendorff that inspired him ‘Schläft ein Lied in allen Dingen’ (A song sleeps in all things), which I think is a rather beautiful sentiment. You can certainly see this idea has been considered throughout the movie (and in his other films too).
The other striking thing about the use of place in the film is the links to architecture and Berlin itself. Undine is a historian who gives talks about urban development, which on its own is pretty cool. But when she talks about the city’s origin, she mentions the etymology of Berlin’s name; it means ‘swamp’ or ‘dry place in the swamp’. Therefore the city like Undine has a connection to water that has been severed, and she has, in a way like Berlin, been urbanised, transformed and separated from her elemental origin. Later in the film, she rehearses a talk in front of an enraptured Christoph (such a beautiful moment!). There she talks about the Humboldt Forum, a 21st-century museum in the centre of Berlin that was modelled on an 18th-century building that once stood in the exact same place and an architectural theory that suggests that progress is impossible. A neat bit of foreboding, which is mirrored in Petzold’s cyclical direction which features recurring motifs of mysterious Catfish sightings (more on him in a minute!) and characters returning to the same locations in search of evidence of events taking place.
Another of my favourite moments in the film is where the shot of Undine looking over Christoph’s shoulder for the poster originates. It’s simple; we follow the two as they wander along in each other’s arms, as if completely smitten and unable to be separate from one another’s embrace for any length of time. The music and the atmosphere is beautiful until Undine sees Johannes, her previous boyfriend, with another woman. The camera then sweeps around to follow them walk past, and Undine peers over Christoph’s shoulder. This signifies a turning point in the film and that despite her growing bond with Christoph, her fate is catching up to her.
So let’s talk about Gunther the catfish. He’s named after a character from the Nibelungenlied an Old Germanic text, very much like The Prose Edda and other mythological/legendary tales from medieval times. This little literary reference adds another texture of myth and mystery to the setting of the water, which as a dam is a natural place that has been industrialised. It’s an archaic place that has been transformed and acts as an intersection between the modern world and the world of mysticism, note that both Undine and Gunther reside there. This also connects back to the original romantic story by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué, the river is so imposing in the novella that it strands characters for a period of time, however here in the modern age man has tamed the river. Petzold said in an interview that people are becoming distant from the myths and legends of the earlier years and this setting most definitely suggests that and offers us the chance to reflect on this fact.
In conclusion, I think I have found a new favourite in Undine. I love unusual romances that are sprinkled with magical realism and a sobering dash of doom. I love the performances by Beer and Rogowski, and I think Petzold has crafted such a beautiful film with so many textured layers to unpack. On the first watch, it is a whimsical love story; on the second watch, it's a meditation on time, place and autonomy…I can only wonder what a third watch will have in store for me. But ultimately, it's the intertwining of love, architecture, poetic doom and mysticism that makes Undine a film that will keep me coming back re-watch after re-watch.
This blog post is a sequel to a post I wrote last year or the year before about film directors who inspire me (Check out Part I here). Naturally, I have discovered and watched many more “new” (only in the sense that I had not watched their films before) directors since that list, so I felt like it was time to revisit the concept. There will probably be a Part III so stay tuned for that whenever it drops lol.
Originally a video artist, McQueen broke into the film industry with his impressive feature-length debut Hunger, a harrowing tale of Bobby Sands a member of the IRA who went on a hunger strike and ultimately died while in prison. But for me, it was Shame that made me really take notice of his talent. Once again starring Michael Fassbender, Shame tells the story of a sex addict who’s meticulous lifestyle is interrupted by the reappearance of his bold and lively sister. And of course, it would be impossible to not mention 12 Years A Slave, which is honestly one of the most excruciating and powerful films I have ever watched.
I haven’t actually seen McQueen’s Small Axe anthology series which is available on BBC iPlayer (UK) and Amazon (Everywhere else?) but I’m sure I will shortly.
Vinterberg is a Danish director and was responsible for co-creating the Dogma-95 movement alongside Lars Von Trier (another Danish auteur that I think is brilliant). The ten rules of Dogma were created to strip back filmmaking and make it simple and honest. Out of those rules, Vinterberg created his breakout film Festen (The Celebration) which won the Jury Prize at Cannes in 1998 and many other awards. Vinterberg has since shed the dogma doctrine and has gone on to make some phenomenal films, but there is still that sense of purity that remains in his filmmaking which I think is one of the reasons why I like his films so much. It’s safe to say that I am very much looking forward to his next film Druk (Another Round) on which he reunites with his Jagten (The Hunt) lead actor Mads Mikkelsen (TBH I will watch anything Mads is in 😍but that’s beside the point as I think this film could be Vinterberg’s magnus opus!).
Fight Club is one of my favourite films and its one that you can return to over and over again. And despite being a complete bibliophile, I actually think the film is better than the book it was based on, sacrilege I know! I have watched most of Fincher’s other films and have enjoyed them, but Fight Club stands out from the rest of them, for me anyway.
Guadagnino creates gorgeous looking films just watch any of his most recent efforts: Call Me By Your Name, A Bigger Splash or Suspiria, and it’s obvious why he would inspire anyone. But for me, it was particularly CMBYN that made me really interested in his work, I love the mood he creates in the film, he shoots Italy most beautifully, and it makes me nostalgic for a time and place I never have and will never be.
Barry Jenkins came onto my radar through his oscar-winning film Moonlight. It’s a powerful examination of a young man at different stages in his life coming to terms with his sexuality and what it means to be a black man in America. The film is based on a play In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue (written by the co-writer of the film’s script) and Jenkins plays with this striking visual motif throughout the film by showing Chiron at his most vulnerable when he is in the moonlight. I am yet to watch If Beale Street Could Talk, but it is high up on my list, and I will be reading the James Baldwin novel it is based on before watching it.
Autumn de Wilde’s Emma. is a tour de force of aestheticism and pure literary joy. Wilde is a photographer turned director with currently only one film under her belt, which is what makes Emma. so great, it’s an artists film. Everything tells a story, from the costumes to the set design. I can’t wait to see what she does next.
Like with a lot of the directors on this list I have only watched one of Wong Kar-Wai’s films, however, I am utterly obsessed with it. In the Mood for Love is one of the most beautiful pieces of cinema I have ever watched and it has very quickly become one of my favourite films. The use of colour, the framing of shots, the soundtrack, the writing, the acting. The whole film is a masterpiece. I can’t wait to watch more from Wong and luckily I recently nabbed a copy of Chunking Express on eBay that wasn’t extortionately priced!
Portrait of a Lady on Fire is pure art; there is no denying it. I wrote a rather gushing review on the film after watching it because it blew me away so much and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, in fact, I still think about it now, what can I say I’m a sucker for unfulfilled romances. Films like this make me fall even deeper in love with cinema (if that’s even possible).
Lanthimos has quickly become synonymous with dark and quirky films thanks to The Favourite, The Lobster, The Killing of a Sacred Deer and Dogtooth. It is clear that Lanthimos is a visionary and has a very specific film aesthetic, and I found that I was hooked on his films ever since watching The Lobster. Lanthimos is a huge inspiration for me as he started making films on practically no budget, and now is he is one of the most exciting filmmakers working today. His most recent film is a short called Nimic and at 12 mins long it’s phenomenal and so freaking creepy!
Let me know in the comments section who your favourite directors are.
François Ozon's 2003 erotic thriller Swimming Pool follows Sarah Morton (Charlotte Rampling) a successful yet dissatisfied crime novelist as she spends some time away from stuffy England at her publishers home in France.
Spoilers ahead…
From the get-go Morton is uptight and bizarre, her excessive consumption of yoghurt is rather uncanny, her interaction with a fan on the tube and simmering jealousy of a new writer is telling. She’s going to undergo a metamorphosis and become less stoic and boring by the end of the film. But how she gets there is going to be rather interesting.
Morton is also a voyeur, she watches Julie (the daughter of the publisher whose house Sarah is staying at) have sex with a random stranger one night and often finds herself watching her when she swims and also becomes irritated by Julie talking and laughing on the phone. A weird obsession grows. There's also a scene in Sarah’s imagination where the camera tracks the contours of Julie’s body as she sunbathes, it’s almost the male gaze at work but it’s actually Sarah’s gaze, her authorial imagination at work.
I feel like the writer as a voyeur is such an obvious yet intriguing trope in thrillers. I mean writers definitely have to be voyeurs to some extent, people-watching is a socially acceptable form of voyeurism. But a thriller always makes them a little more creepy, and to be honest, Rampling makes this trope work so well that it almost feels fresh again.
However, this is when things start to get complicated, Julie reads Sarah’s book and invites the local waiter Frank (to who Morton has taken a liking) over to make her jealous, they party. The morning after a panicked Sarah sees the pool covered up with a lump in the middle of the tarpaulin. Is Frank dead? No, it’s just the inflatable lilo. This moment was done well, it was predictable but it still makes your skin crawl for the duration of the scene.
Unsurprisingly, Frank does actually turn up dead, the two women bury him and vow to get on with their lives, Sarah even has to seduce the gardener after he starts to inspect the grave they dug the night before.
But this is all a ruse.
The entire plot of the film is put into question when an emboldened Morton returns to London with her finished novel and announces to her publisher that she has signed with someone else to release the book. Upon leaving the office a young girl enters and is addressed as Julie and greets her father. The Julie in France is not the real Julie in fact she never existed at all!
What a brilliant twist. She’s just an over-imaginative and slightly perverse writer. The metamorphosis I mentioned earlier happens because she gets her inspiration back, she blooms again because she has written something that excites her. I love how Ozon weaved this narrative and for a while, I thought it was going to follow an obvious course but I was really pleasantly surprised.
Ozon himself said ‘Charlotte's character kept mixing fantasy and reality. Although in Swimming Pool, everything related to fantasy is part of the act of creation, so it is more channelled and less likely to end up causing madness. In terms of directing, I've treated everything that is imaginary in Swimming Pool in a realistic way so that you see it all – fantasy and reality alike – on the same plane.”
Pain and Glory is cinema at its best, a feast for the eyes and a story that touches the heart. Directed by Pedro Almodóvar and starring Antonio Banderas in the lead role of Salvador Mallo, a troubled director, this film explores the very essence of life, the pain and the glory of existence, if you will.
This film has been on my watch list for far too long and I am also kind of ashamed to say that this is the first Almodóvar film I have seen (despite having a DVD of The Skin I Live In on my shelf for years!) The first thing that struck me was the use of colour (a well-known trademark of the filmmaker if I’m correct), in every frame, there is a perfect balance of rich jewel tones and paired back neutrals, making everything pop in such an aesthetically pleasing way.
Homes or interiors to be more precise play an important part in the film, and they are visually stunning too. From the striking whitewash walls of the cavern home of Mallo’s childhood to his chic and colourful apartment. Can I just say that the latter is perhaps one of the most gorgeously designed apartments I have ever seen (interior design inspo on a whole new level!) and interestingly it is a replica of Almodóvar’s own home. According to Antxón Gómez (Production designer and frequent collaborator) “For Pedro, interior design is a character in the movie,” [1]. And it truly feels like this is the case while watching the film, the eclectic decor speaks volumes about the characters and shows that they have a rich and complex history. It’s the same with fashion, and can I just say that I need a green jacket like the one Mallo rocks in my life. Fashion and Interior design are ways in which we can express ourselves, and then for Almodóvar, there is filmmaking as well. Creating art is a form of expression, its storytelling in it’s most visceral form.
Narratively, Pain and Glory is meandering, it flicks between the present and past childhood memories…or does it? When taking into account the final scene of the film, you must rethink everything you’ve seen throughout. Are all the flashbacks purely Mallo’s reconstruction of his memories on a film set, does this then mean that everything we have seen from his childhood has been moulded for cinematic storytelling. Having a film within a film that is only revealed to be a film at the end is a rather clever move from Almodóvar, and further cements the film’s theme of the craft of storytelling. It’s so meta it almost hurts!
Films like this make me fall even more in love with cinema and make me want to make movies. I say this all the time but it’s true, there’s something so special about watching a beautifully made film that has so much depth and substance to it, it’s like reading a novel that’s full of imagery and symbols. It’s powerful and utterly relatable.
[1] González. B (2020) All About the Vibrant Decor in Pedro Almodóvar’s Films, Available at: https://www.houzz.com/magazine/all-about-the-vibrant-decor-in-pedro-almodovars-films-stsetivw-vs~131255473 (Accessed: 8th February 2021).
