Hey, folks. Capone in Chicago here, with a couple of films that are making their way into art houses around America this week or at least expanding to more theaters (maybe even taking up one whole screen at a multiplex near you). Enjoy…
THE WHITE RIBBON
There are few filmmakers more worthy of discussion and debate than German-born Michael Haneke, who has consistently shattered and shocked us with such works as BENNY'S VIDEO, CODE UNKNOWN, CACHE, THE PIANO TEACHER, and two versions of FUNNY GAMES. The Palm d'Or winner at last year's Cannes Film Festival (as well as two other Cannes awards), Haneke's latest, THE WHITE RIBBON, is at alternating moments his most and least accessible work, as he strays somewhat from moral ambiguity and relishes in the pure art of story telling. Set in Germany in the years just prior to the start of World War I (the film ends with news of Archduke Ferdinand's assassination spreading through this Protestant village of Eichwald in the northern part of the country), the story is an examination of several events involving both the parents and children of the village, both families that are poor and those that are better off.
In many ways, Eichwald feels like a cursed community, and the stark, striking black-and-white cinematography lends the story an iconic feel, as if this village stands for all ill-fated villages across the world. A series of bizarre incidents is plaguing the town, including a child murder. And while it's clear that someone is deliberately causing these incidents (a barn set on fire, a wire set up on a horse path to trip a horse and throw its rider), it becomes clear early on that the film is less about finding the culprit and more about watching the consequences of his/her actions and how they end up dividing the community even more than class lines already do. The film does a wonderful job of showing us how fear and anger almost organically destroy the fabric of society. Nothing too heavy or anything.
With an almost two-and-a-half-hour running time, Haneke takes his time letting us get to know each character and how each family behaves and adheres to its rituals. The children of the local pastor are some of the worst behaved and the most severely punished. It's rough watching one of the adolescent boys have his hands tied when he goes to bed so he doesn't succumb to self-indulgence. The rich baron who essentially owns the village is on the receiving end of much disdain, especially from the tenant farmers. Tucked away amid the disdain and gloom is also a sweet love story between the local schoolteacher and the daughter of one of the farmers. Certainly, films of the past by the likes of Robert Altman and John Sayles have shown us these kinds of communal cross-sections, but never for a community quite like Eichwald, where they apparently eat spite for breakfast. Some of the more difficult scenes in THE WHITE RIBBON to watch involve seeing how innocent and genuinely good members of the community are swallowed up or transformed by the creeping panic that sets into the town's fabric.
Like all truly great film works, THE WHITE RIBBON (the title comes from a ribbon the pastor ties on his children's arm to symbolize a commitment to purity) is worthy of multiple viewings; each of which will likely result in noticing different aspects to this richly realize tapestry of paranoia, hatred, resentment, and bitterness. Gee, I wonder if Haneke was symbolically trying to show us the birth of the emotional bed where Nazism was born. I guess we'll never know.
A TOWN CALLED PANIC
One of the single most joyous works of pure brilliance that I saw at Fantastic Fest last year was co-directors Stéphane Aubier and Vincent Patar's A TOWN CALLED PANIC, a crudely rendered stop-motion bit of Belgian genius that, like all great children's fare, is as much a treat for youngsters as it is for their stoner parents and grandparents. Based on a cult television series from Belgium, Panic shows us a day in the life of three best friends that all live together--a cowboy, an Indian, and a horse. What's utterly impossible to comprehend about this movie without seeing it is that the characters are just plastic figures that barely move or change expressions. Some of the characters have a grass-like base so they can stand up. But thanks to some lively vocal work, all of the characters come to life and have such enjoyably unique personalities.
More importantly, the story feels like it was written by someone completely unaware of the historical social roles that a cowboy, Indian, or horse have in the world. The horse sleeps in a bed and falls in love with another horse that is also a piano teacher. Cowboy and Indian want to buy Horse a birthday present, so they go on the Internet and get a little more than they bargained for. Every frame of this 75-minute slice of heaven is filled with original ideas. I desperately need these filmmakers to shoot a new movie every month so I can get my necessary injection of creative force and pure inventiveness. The randomness of the characters and their adventures reminds me more than anything I've seen since the first Toy Story of the insane situations I used to put my toys in as a kid, and how I didn't care if my Star Wars figures played in the same playset as my Micronauts or Buck Rogers action figures or whatever else I could dig up.
When I heard that A TOWN CALLED PANIC was being distributed in some cities, I got genuinely gleeful and giddy. If you have to kill your grandmother so you can inherit her wealth to buy a plane ticket to a city that is showing this movie, then that's what you have to do. Don't ask questions and stop looking at me funny. Just go see this surreal experiment in fun and random behavior. Did I mention the robot penguins? Go discover them for yourself and see this movie. You'll be shocked and amazed, and you'll have a big smile on your face the entire time, I promise.
-- Capone
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