Showing posts with label The Forest for the Trees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Forest for the Trees. Show all posts

16 February 2010

Year-end lists: 20-11

These twenty films (the ten in the 20-11 list below and the ten back-ups, or 30-21, below that) were all, in my view, great and diverse examples of what cinema was capable of offering up last year. All were worth special mention for being some of the best of '09. Not quite the very best but close to it.

20. The International Tom Tykwer (USA/Germany/UK)



A lot of folk I've read online dismissed The International for lacking excitement, or that it was trying too hard to be a Bond flick, or that an espionage thriller about dodgy international banking doesn't exactly raise the temperature. On paper, I can see that may be so, but I didn't think it needed the too-hectic pace of a Bourne film or to be another slick Bond wannabe (though I actually thought it was better and infinitely more interesting than Daniel Craig's last two 007 outings). It was engrossing enough without the need to be overly showy. As for brushing it off for not being exciting, I'd say look again. After all, The Third Man (1949) was essentially about a penicillin racket. Director Tom Tykwer does play down a lot of the dramatic exchanges and covert meetings in his film, but its in service of a story that filters events based loosely on political what-ifs and makes them work through sheer stolid determination. It's something to be somewhat admired in a genre which often prides hollow gimmickry over penetrating and distinct film craftsmanship. And Clive Owen, with his gaunt demeanor and in his tatty overcoat, makes for a nicely shabby (non-)hero. The Film's obvious standout moment, a tense late-in-the-story shoot-out at New York's Guggenheim Museum was one of the most expertly staged and executed scenes of the year. But all that came before it was equally exciting, too.

19. Synecdoche, New York (Charlie Kaufman) USA



There was a lot to like about Synecdoche, New York despite a fair amount of frustration and brain ache involved. But the frustration paid off in the end. It had one of the most bizarrely emotive endings of any film I saw last year; the final fifteen minutes were incredibly affecting. Kaufman has snuck out from under the cover of his collaborators (Spike Jonze, Michel Gondry) to create a debut that was far more interesting (and a dazzling mess in places) than some of their films. Synecdoche suggests that the films he wrote for them were like experimental sketches in preparation for his debut here (though that's not a slight on his collaborators' work - some were very good in their own right). He pours years worth of anguish, playfulness and thought (and a pinch of restrained surrealism) into the film. It feels very much like a grandiose culmination of his key themes, and therefore comes across like a weird signing-off film, a last statement from an image-soaked mind. Maybe, like many of the skewed and direction-bending ideas contained in his scripts, he's working backwards himself. Here's to a last film, sometime in the distant future, that has the energy of an eager and image-starved "first" film.

18. Burma VJ: Reporting from a Closed Country (Anders Østergaard) Denmark/Sweden/Norway /UK/USA/Germany/Netherlands/Israel/Spain/Belgium/Canada



Burma VJ: Reporting from a Closed Country was a late watch for the list (three weeks ago), but it deserves mention as one of the most important and fascinating documentaries of last year. It was a captivating look at the breakdown of politics within a tumultuous, and effectively sealed-off, country, and the small band of bold and impassioned filmmakers (self-named the Democratic Voice of Burma) who wanted (and needed) the rest of the world to witness for themselves the extent of that breakdown that they risked their lives to show it as it unfolded. The present day-set fictional inserts in no way diminish the unsettling and affecting documented images of the protests by the group of Buddhist monks at the centre of the upheaval (that infamously took place in September 2007). It's a shocking film, but essential and rewarding. And it's also the best example of the use of a camera as a journalistic tool in quite some time.

17. Triangle (Christopher Smith) UK/Australia



Triangle may have suffered slightly coming after the other similarly-themed and -structured loopy time travel film of last year, Timecrimes, but it stood out nonetheless by having some new things to say (particularly during the protracted dénouement) and including many inspired creepy moments (and with a fully committed and affecting lead performance from Melissa George). It's a pure genre pleasure from beginning to end: George makes for a great unlikely protagonist, the tension never flags and it has some unique and memorable visuals tucked away below deck - not least a chilling and surreal shot of identical bodies piled up on the bow of the phantom ship of the film's setting (though revealing the whys and hows of this particular image may spoil part of the plot). It's well worth seeking out on dvd, where I hope it receives the acclaim and the audience it deserves. It's a great mini gem of a film.

16. Let the Right One In/Låt den rätte komma in (Tomas Alfredson) Sweden



Let the Right One In was rightly praised for bringing something fresh to the horror genre last year. It's curious story of a young vampire girl and the friendship she strikes up with a boy, set in an eerie Swedish block of flats, was played out against an early-'80s period backdrop of snowfall and bloodletting. The two child leads gave great performances and the imagery was nicely subdued; Alfredson's a director with a great deal of talent for subsuming all the grisly lore of vampirism into a story essentially about youthful bonding. I'm intrigued to see what he follows this original film up with next. It also got my vote for best score of last year, too; Johan Söderqvist's music for the film is truly beautiful, and works just as well outside of the film as it does accompanying its stark images.

15. Inside/À l'intérieur (Alexandre Bustillo/Julien Maury) France



Another bold and original horror of '09 (though made in 2007) was Inside, starring that dark French maiden Beatrice Dalle. She plays a woman, known only as La femme, who wants a baby so bad that she's willing to go to any extreme to get one; and to an extreme end she goes. To say that she's playing the world's worst midwife is putting it lightly. It's a relatively thrifty seventy-five minutes long, but makes effective use of its time. After a brief set-up the action is confined to a single location, a recently widowed mother-to-be's house. Dalle's introduction as a shape looming outside - spied through darkened windows or through the eyehole in a door - is incredibly unsettling, and the hazy, yellowish cinematography becomes more and more fogged, more womblike as the tautness of the situation turns more horrific (and more giallo-esque; red and yellow being colours synonymous with murder in Argento, Bava etc - likely influences). What Dalle does with knitting needles here would make granny shit a brick.

14. The Signal (David Bruckner/Dan Bush/Jacob Gentry) USA



I randomly chanced upon The Signal on dvd during the middle of last year (note: it's another sad case of a solid enough, but uncategorisable film finding its place on home rental instead of where it should have played, in the cinemas; it was leagues above many easy-fit theatrically-released horrors of the past year). A brief description and title alone was enough to get me intrigued. It's simple: a signal sent through the TV turns people bad. Very bad. Unoriginal? Perhaps. But it's what the trio of filmmakers (David Bruckner, Dan Bush and Jacob Gentry) do with the set-up that surprises: forming a filmmaking trinity, they play a visual variation on the game of exquisite corpse, where each of the three filmmakers direct a roughly thirty-minute segment with its own style and tone, but narratively picks up where the preceding one left off. The first sees the inhabitants of an apartment complex, demented by the titular signal, go on a killing spree; the second, set in a house, features a morbid, highly staged siege scenario that borders on farce; and the third is a chase through a deserted city to track down loved ones and other survivors. The Crazies (George A. Romero/1973), 28 Days Later... (Danny Boyle/2002) and early David Cronenberg are all aspired to at various points, but The Signal still contains enough energy of its own to make it feel uniquely effective. There's more going on between the lines of what a simple synopsis offers, mainly how funny, terrifying and well made it is. Divergent paths in the horror genre should be celebrated, especially in an era that sees an abundance of remakes each year. I especially liked the odd arrangement in tone that The Signal experimented with. For me it worked wonderfully.

13. The Class/Entre les murs (Laurent Cantet) France



I'm glad to see several school-set films in recent years avoid the 'chalk and talk' standard of showing teachers merely stand, write Big Important Quotes on blackboards and disagree with students. Maren Ade's excellent debut The Forest for the Trees (2003) and the politically-charged The Wave (2008) (even the parody TV comedy Summer Heights High got lots of the finer details right, amongst all the sharp comic details) have recently depicted a more truthful and explorative side to showing what happens in a classroom. Laurent Cantet's The Class - 2008's Palme d'Or winner - goes to further lengths in showing entirely real situations and the fraught, often PC-orientated issues sometimes involved in the job. The scenes of teaching - or instructing, lecturing, debating and so on - here are riveting. Each one is clearly closely drawn from reality (lead actor François Bégaudeau based the script partly on his own experiences as a teacher) and are - through Cantet's thoughtful use of his camera - as near to definitive bitesize approximations of what it's surely like to observe the process of learning (or not learning) that I've seen. The Class is quietly explosive and full of great moments of human connection.

12. Tokyo Sonata/Tôkyô sonata (Kiyoshi Kurosawa) Japan/Netherlands/Hong Kong



Tokyo Sonata starts as one thing and ends up quite another entirely. The first part of the film (about a proud salary man who loses his job but keeps going in to work to uphold the pretense for the sake of his family) feels very much under the influence of an Ozu or Maruse film. But strange events encroach about an hour in and a comparison to Takeshi Miike isn't too far off. It's from Kiyoshi Kurosawa, known mainly for horror films such as Seance (2000) Kairo/Pulse (2001) and Doppelgänger (2003), among others, and although it's a departure for him in many respects, it does still bear his signature fully. Kurosawa is a smart and incisive filmmaker. I've never noticed a single dull scene or wrong-footed moment in any of his films I've so far seen. The abrupt and rather oddly comical change of direction at the halfway mark perplexed me briefly, but after the remaining hour of the film comes to a close it's clear that he hasn't lost any of his deft skill for heightened drama mixed with firmly wedged social commentary. I enjoyed seeing him move away from all-out creepiness with Tokyo Sonata (though I hope he doesn't abandon the horror genre completely) and his actors (especially Teruyuki Kagawa and Kyôko Koizumi as, respectively, the husband and wife who are both thrown headlong into warped life changes - Kurosawa regular Kōji Yakusho puts in a brilliantly demented performance as a kidnapper) superbly take on their roles excellently; they all go through great shifts in personality throughout the course of the story. As the film gladly does itself.

11. In the Loop (Armando Iannucci) UK



After watching In the Loop I kicked myself for missing the TV show that spawned it, The Thick of It. It meant that I'd missed out (temporarily I hope) on seeing Peter Capaldi's character, prime minister's aide Malcolm Tucker, dish out more hilarious one-liners, aggressive insults and sharply-worded bon mots than in the time it takes him to straighten his tie. Capaldi is standout, but is almost equally matched by Tom Hollander, Gina McKee, Chris Addison and the rest of the cast. The real genius, though, is in the writing. Armando Iannucci, along with Jesse Armstrong, Simon Blackwell, Tony Roche and Ian Martin, created a script that perfectly sums up British-American political relations - with added petty jibes and scathing truths - as seen by people who know how comedy can bring out the best observations on such matters. It's a better satire than any I've seen in recent times - both in film and on televison - and never less than stupendously funny scene after scene. It's the kind of film that deserves repeated viewing just to catch every single word spoken. Iannucci should be called on to hone every British (or indeed from elsewhere) comedy script currently in the works.

Just outside the top 20, in no order:

Fish Tank (Andrea Arnold) / District 9 (Neil Blomkamp) / Angel of Mine/L'empreinte de l'ange (Safy Nebbou) / Wonderful Town (Aditya Assarat) / Where the Wild Things Are (Spike Jonze) / Star Trek (J.J. Abrams) / Lake Tahoe (Fernando Eimbcke) / The Hurt Locker (Kathryn Bigelow) / Splinter (Toby Wilkins) / Embodiment of Evil/Encarnação do Demônio (José Mojica Marins)

So that's twenty to eleven and a few more thrown in. Next up is my top 10.

8 December 2008

Looking Back to 2005: Selections for the Ten Films of the Year

Continuing my look back at films and performances that made an impact on me three years ago, here are what I thought were the ten most noteworthy films from 2005. Obviously, writing about them now, in December 2008, there's the question of hindsight: Have any changes occurred? Have I revisited any, if not all, of them? And do they still hold up? My response would be: yes (since first assembling this list I got to see Ousmane Semebene's brilliant last film Moolaadé, which leapt right in and stole the no.3 spot and sadly shunted Tony Takitani out of the ten. And my revisiting of Laurence Dunmore's debut film The Libertine cemented its boldness all over again, so it claimed the No.8 spot from Battle in Heaven); yes, roughly half of the films I've seen for a second - and in one or two cases a third - time; unquestionably, yes. All these titles surely indicate, in my opinion, a healthy film year. *full comments to follow*

2005 was a strong year. Of the 134 films I saw that year roughly 30+ were worth seriously considering for the list; narrowing it down to just ten was tough. To address this I'll add a bit, after the top ten, on other films that stunned and/or surprised me. This second ten (11-20) deserve mention, too. Also, six of the ten directors of films on the list have gone on to produce work of equal distinction (or have made films with moments of note-worthy merit and flair in them) since. One (Semebene) sadly passed away; and three are yet to make follow-up films - though I'm confident future work by them will be worth catching). Overall though, this list is a way of remembering what recent films have stood out from the crowd: ten reasons to be happy cinema is continuing to make me sit up and pay attention. On with the list:

10. Land of the Dead (George A. Romero/USA)


09. Head-On/Gegen die Wand (Fatih Akin/Germany, Turkey)


08. The Libertine (Laurence Dunmore/UK, Australia)


07. The Wayward Cloud/Tian bian yi duo yun (Tsai Ming-liang/France, Taiwan)


06. The Beat That My Heart Skipped/De battre mon coeur s'est arrêté (Jacques Audiard/France)


05. A History of Violence (David Cronenberg/USA, Germany)


04. Last Days (Gus van Sant/USA)


03. Moolaadé (Ousmane Sembène/Senegal)


02. The Forest for the Trees/Der Wald vor lauter Bäumen (Maren Ade/Germany)


01. Tropical Malady/Sud pralad (Apichatpong Weerasethakul/Thailand)


Also good, in no order: Tony Takitani (Jun Ichikawa) / Mysterious Skin (Gregg Araki) / Vera Drake (Mike Leigh) / Battle in Heaven (Carlos Reygadas) / Somersault (Cate Shortland) / Café Lumière (Hsiao-hsien Hou) / Serenity (Joss Whedon) / In Good Company (Paul Weitz) / Innocence (Lucile Hadzihalilovic) / The Descent (Neil Marshall)

2 November 2008

Looking Back to 2005: Top Ten Female Performances


Top row: 10 - 6; Bottom row: 5 - 1

10. Laura Dern as Terry Linden in We Don’t Live Here Anymore

In a strong four-hander Dern's performance stood out; she was the one character that seemed to be set apart from the rest somehow, either through the fact that she played in a few more scenes without a co-star, or that she was the only one to truly flesh out her character fully. I'm not sure if it was that I connected with her (and therefore her storyline) more, but there was something almost soulful in her fierce portrayal of a confounded wife (and mother) who is seriously not happy with her lot. Dern instills a sly fury and pathos into her role, making it much less of the token effort, a mere fourth wheel, that it could have been if played by someone without her determination and driving force. Terry was someone who needed to break free in absolutely her own way. As always, Dern excelled.

09. Mary-Lynn Rajskub as Avalyn Friesen in Mysterious Skin

Rajskub’s character is the kind of girl you might see week-in, week-out on 'The Jerry Springer Show'. Rajskub turns UFO fanatic Avalyn - a person that could have simply been laughable and pathetic - into a fully-rounded person (Araki's clear-witted writing helps here also). She's sweetly needy, instead of cloying; charming instead of indigent, right down to her subtle, not-too-quirky mannerisms and permanent walking stick. Rajskub is an underrated actress who I'd like to see move up to lead roles (she has a similar quality to Toni Collette; she's never put in a bad role). She's got heaps of talent and assured comic timing. She just needs the right role to catapult her to more weightier parts. This one should surely help.

08. Rosamund Pike as Elizabeth Malet in The Libertine

Rosamund Pike is amazing in The Libertine. I'd only seen her in Die Another Day before this, but here she holds her own amongst strong company. Her surprising and brilliantly un-vain performance (as the prim and very vain Elizabeth Malet) was astounding. There's a scene near the end of the film where she verbally spars with Johnny Depp - both have reached the absolute social nadir: she swigs wine manfully, letting it drool down her face as she spits abuse at him. She does it better than he does. She shows Malet is a force to be reckoned with; push a lady like her too far and social standing goes flying out the window. This intense scene, balanced with her earlier moments of serene composure and contemplation, made for a brave and compulsive performance. Back away and admire from a distance; she's much much more than a Bond girl.

07. Shiang-Chyi Chen as Shiang-Chyi in The Wayward Cloud

Chen doesn't exactly do a great deal in the film, but everything you need to know about her character is written all over her blank, but open-hearted face. She follows up the same role from Tsai Ming-Liang's precursor to this film, What Time Is It There?, but here she slowly and beautifully twists the character around until she ends up somewhere completely different, and sadly less happy, from where she began. It's a totally different place she finds herself in from where we thought (and surely hoped) she'd end up. The final moments of the film are hard to watch, but however dismaying Shiang-Chyi makes the film's audacious, questionable ending rind with an earned sadness. The single tear eking its way down her face in the last shot did it.

06. Abbie Cornish as Heidi in Somersault

Heidi was a character that really could've been played badly if the wrong person took the role. Abbie Cornish manages effortlessly to be many things at once here: a demure drifter, a hollow vessel for others to transfer their desires onto and an outrageous flirt, all contained behind the same pair of pleading eyes. It wouldn't surprise me if Cornish goes on to the bigger things in time; she could act many of her peers off the screen on the evidence of this role. She avoids easy dramatics and stroppy tantrums that can go with a part like this by simply bringing a variety of subtle shades to it. It's like she knew the role outright, from head to toe.

05. Valerie Tedeschi-Bruni as Marion in 5x2

From the start of the film (the end of the story) to the end (the beginning), Bruni Tedeschi's Marion changes so much, not just in those big life shifts required to show the eroding stages of the marriage, but in tiny ways that almost go unnoticed. The single, carefree woman who dances gleefully to Whigfield's ‘Saturday Night’ (hilarious song choice, that) at the end is not the woman who suffers through the - most probable - marital rape at the beginning. After the film ended, I straight away replayed it (and her performance in particular) in my mind; I realised how much of a lasting impression she immediately left . She had to shape five wildly different stages of this woman's life, in limited chunks. That Marion felt so real was down to the way Tedeschi-Bruni instinctively fleshed her character out.

04. Imelda Staunton as Vera Drake in Vera Drake

I had to put a shout out for Staunton here. She’s an actress who can inhabit this kind of role like a glove and make it feel 100% realistic (or as real as I could imagine) and, in the end, deserving of the utmost praise. It was perfect casting. Vera's frequent bustling back and forth to help out friends and family, running errands, cooking meals, having cups of tea on tap, and of course, the polemic of the film, her "assisting girls in trouble", speaks volumes about the differences between what happens on the street and what's going on behind the net curtains in Leigh's probe into '50s post-war Britain. There aren't any affected quirks or false mannerisms to the part. It's all essential to how someone like Vera is. Staunton scrunches her eyes up, and makes you feel the blind helplessness behind them, like no-one else; she turns crying into an artform; tea-making even more so. It's great to see her in a risky central role for once, too. It goes without saying that it's her best performance yet.

03. Maria Bello as Edie Stall in A History of Violence

I was in awe of just how well Bello conveyed something as straightforward as disbelief. And even more in awe of how well her character then easily accepted the secrets that surrounded her husband's past. It was more than just convincing emotional details that made her performance so good though; it was in the minor, but subtly complex particularities of the role, too. In a male-dominated film, Bello stood her ground firmly. Her clothes and surroundings were drab, but her personality and her passion for her marriage wasn't. Her outward demeanour harboured a tough, independent soul. I was totally convinced that Edie lived a full life even though very few aspects of her job, and indeed her world away from her husband (and all other areas of her existence), were shown. Bello managed to make Edie real through sheer impellent conviction and by fully enveloping herself into the part.

02. Sibel Kekilli as Sibel in Head-On

Speaking of kicking arse, Sibel Kekilli got hers well and truly booted in Head-On (in one of the most unbearably sad and harshest scenes of a film that goes to the harshest extremes in depicting a couple's tumultuous lives together). But she got up time after time, spat back and defiantly asked for more; I couldn't believe the guts this woman had. Her suicidal model of independence was one of the best characters of the year; a woman who took life by the balls and shook it up good and proper. Kekilli had this role firmly down. There's a moment where she literally stops herself in her tracks - where she is hoovering a hotel room - and looks out of the window – looking out wistfully at what her life was and now is. Without words she manages to inhabit real lived experience in a few facial gestures. Kekilli, a Turkish ex-porn star, made her "legit" film debut here. In a disheartening and ironic twist that somewhat mirrors the situation of her onscreen character, her family disowned her after seeing the film (upon discovering her former career). It was bold for her to do this role - and the performance came from a place of sincere conviction.

01. Eva Löbau as Melanie Pröschle in The Forest for the Trees

Eva Löbau enhances what is an already excellent film tenfold with her quietly stunning performance here. It's the first time in a long time where I've felt both totally sympathetic to and fully supportive of a fictional character. Which is why she gets the top spot. Löbau kinda broke my heart a little bit with her role as Melanie - a new schoolteacher, on her own and in a strange town making a life for herself. She's someone trying to meet new people, attempting to do well in a job that she feels no-one really wants her in and living as simply as she can. These things usually come as standard character-padding for this type of fish-out-of-water role in more mainstream-minded films. Löbau fully shows the character in all her good and bad attributes: Melanie was high maintenance, annoying and embarrassing, but she was also good-natured, eager and someone who is genuinely interested in other people's lives (much more so than they are with her). It's a small, quiet film with no grandstanding moments that has at its centre a performance full of humanity, complexity and charm. You don't see characters like this very often, if at all. Her car ride at the end of the film - as the Grandaddy song ‘He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's the Pilot’ fades in - was unbelievably heartbreaking and is probably my favourite moment in any film from 2005.

The subs - 11. Fatoumata Coulibaly / Moolaadé 12. Jennifer Connelly / Dark Water 13. Jennifer Jason Leigh / Childstar 14. Maggie Cheung / Clean 15. Sharon Wilkins / Palindromes 16. Lola Dueñas / The Sea Inside 17. Anapola Mushkadiz / Battle in Heaven 18. Jodie Foster / A Very Long Engagement 19. Shirley Maclaine / In Her Shoes 20. María Alche / La Niña santa

© Craig Bloomfield 2006

28 October 2008

Life Lessons: The Forest for the Trees/Der Wald vor lauter Bäumen (Maren Ade/2005)



I saw The Forest for the Trees/Der Wald vor lauter Bäumen (2005) purely by chance. It was playing at the 2005 Cambridge Film Festival, so I went on a whim after being intrigued by a single still featured in the brochure (Eva Löbau staring wistfully out of a car window, included below). I'd been interested in trying to ferret out these kinds of unassumingly small-scale, strictly character-based films at the time, and Maren Ade's debut feature ended up being the highlight of the festival.

More often than not, simple and inflexibly straightforward narratives require a commanding presence at their centre to act as a balance to all the simplicity. But The Forest for the Trees has an almost non-entity for its lead character - Melanie Pröschle, played by Löbau. Strangely, instead of diminishing the effect of the film, her not there-ness enhances it tenfold. The whole film is about someone who disappears from the gaze of those around them, despite their best intentions. And whatever someone’s personal experience, it’s sad to say that a lot of what happens here can ring true in any social circle.

Löbau (who I’ve unfortunately not seen in anything before or since) approaches the role of a new schoolteacher – on her own in a relatively small town, making a life for herself in an overcrowded, urban comprehensive school – with a weird kind of pathetic conviction. She’s pretty much almost willingly used as a dogsbody in the job. Initially it’s as if she were a useless bag of bones shoved in bad clothing, and plonked down without being told how to function accordingly with others. Through the film she doesn’t go through any kind of social elevation, and no triumphant message resounds. Her clothes just get worse.



There are scenes that contain such accurately minute instances of estrangement or identification that they concisely penetrate right to the heart of social ostracism, resulting in some effectively poignant filmmaking: the nervous hesitation as Melanie pauses before entering her classroom for the first time (the raucous kids inside are like baying wolves to her); the ineptitude that arises when no-one wants to talk to her at a party, even though she persists and persists; and it’s in the sparse and scattered objects that litter Melanie’s poky flat like beacons of distress. The attention paid to these things is minimal, often not the direct focus of a scene, but incredibly telling.

It’s in the making of new friends that she falls flat on her arse. Melanie is so timid and socially awkward that purposeful acceptance is a constant battle. It's like Melanie sees it as her reason for being. And work merely brings a truckload of shitty problems. The thing is, the film doesn’t exactly go down the route in celebrating the meek in the way that many of those championing-the-underdog type films do, whereby the “loser” is allowed some kind of celebratory triumph by the end. Here the character just takes herself out of the situation. Ade’s camera detects Melanie out of the bustle of an overcrowded populace, tracks her in potentially awkward situations, and then, like a concerned case worker, nudges her to do something about them. The film unwaveringly shows what happens when the people around you simply don’t want you there.

I admired the approach Ade took in terms of constructing the film’s bleak, carefully orchestrated tone; it’s unstrained, unfussy and downright spartan. Much of this is achieved through the editing; its efficiency creates dramatic, and occasionally funny, moments with ease. I was amazed to discover that this was Ade’s first feature. Although I can’t quite see the overall comparisons to Fassbinder that some critics have afforded the film, it doesn’t fall shy of some allusions. (In some ways Brigitte Mira's lonely cleaning woman Emmi in Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (1974) could almost be an older version of Melanie.)



The right actress completely makes the film. In fact Löbau was, by-and-large, my favourite female performance from the last few years. It's the first time in a long time - maybe since Julianne Moore in Safe (1995), or going further back, Gena Rowlands in A Woman Under the Influence (1974), or more recently, but to a slightly lesser extent, Kate Dollenmayer in Funny Ha Ha (2002) - where I've really wanted something unbelievable, something miraculous even, to occur in a character’s life; something to jolt them off their ill-judged path to social oblivion. But a tug-of-war occurs; conversely, I wouldn't want them to behave in any other way; these women are individual to the core. Löbau broke my heart in the role. I felt both sympathetic to her, and strangely protective of her, despite sharing little of her experiences (although I do share a similar job description, so I guess I can identify with some of the film's situations, which is perhaps why I took to the film as eagerly as I did). Either way, identification can be universal. Something about Melanie appealed to me in an unfeigned and affecting way. Certain fictional creations somehow manage to strike a wholly personal chord, one that reaches out to relate beyond mere viewership.



The level of empathy or sympathy for Melanie, and how much anyone will get out of the film is obviously dependant on individual interpretation, and it also either makes the film work or closes its world off. Some scenes are almost too embarrassing to watch that you want to look away; some moments would be funny - like something out of The Office - if they weren't so painful. But through Löbau’s performance, the film has a character with whom it's hard not to feel something for (which is especially commendable considering the complex shading of personality added to the character as the narrative progresses). It's very much a small and unassuming film with no grandstanding moments; it has at its centre a performance full of complexity and awkward charm, however cringe inducing. You don't get to see characters like this very often, if at all.

Toward the end, a sequence occurs which details with simple urgency all the resignation and sheer fucked-off-ness Melanie feels. (It relates to the bit I mentioned earlier about Melanie taking herself out of the situation.) A Grandaddy song, 'He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's the Pilot', fades in on the soundtrack and something unexpected and unbelievably heartbreaking happens without much indication, but with plenty of justification in hindsight to how Melanie reached this point. It’s probably my favourite moment in any film from 2005, and possibly the decade so far.

© Craig Bloomfield 2006