Watching Abbas Kiarostami during isolation

Known to so many a cinephile, his films broadened the space yet tightened the gap between art house cinema and the simple, effortless act of watching a film.

Kiarostami’s movies always ran between fiction and reality, wherein some scenes from his oeuvre show a bite of documentary-like mood. Reversing the stereotype to create his own flavour, the elements of a became truths that one cannot miss—because Kiarostami is a man of urgency.

In presenting his film’s narratives as a bowl full of lies was a cinematic proclivity for him to arrive at the truth without a trace of lie. It is unforced, it did not look like a struggle: it simply just is, and that’s how reality works. 

Marked by scenes of apparent quietness and contemplative, thoughtful conversations, Kiarostami comes to terms with his films both as director and as part of the audience. How he paints the picture of being lost is of another realm: it is not dependent on anything, apropos to nothing, just like loneliness—it can stem from nothing.

In Close Up (1990), the act of blending fact with fiction becomes a blurry experience. Is this a documentary? A drama based on a true story? Kiarostami’s decision to hire the actual people involved a fraudulent crime that actually happened, and reenacting actual conversations, the film achieved a greatness that rarely crowns a director that marks him as prolific. 

Shaping the reality with the words and angling he chose, the film took a turn from being a film to being a slice-of-life sermon masquerading as pure cinematic imagery. You never really learn how to get around Kiarostami’s narrative, and that makes him a positive enigma. 

In Taste of Cherry (1997), the structures of a talkathon engages more than conversations. It is, after all, a man wanting to end his life and talking about his desire to do it three complete strangers he drives around the capital.

The takes flight in long shots, deep silences, and sparse dialogue between the main character, the earth surrounding Tehran’s not yet developed lands, his car, and the people he meets. The emptiness of Iran somehow how filled the story with such grace and meaning that it somehow acts as the purgatory between hell or glory. 

A crucial fact in Kiarostami’s films is its desire to retain its silence yet disquiet treatment of a story and how it should take evidence in the screen. Man’s loneliness manifests in his films like a conversational confession between a doctor announcing to a family that their relative jas succumbed to an illness.

Evening the scope between the personal and the political, Kiarostami never forgets that Iran, a politically challenged nation, also never forgets to clear the coast with talks about the effects of fascism, and what it does to a community, what it does to a man. He never leaves space for cultural myopia to have an exposure. 

In a politically-charged time like this, where majority of the populations is on isolation, it is without question that one must engage in Kiarostami’s features. Because we never know what we find out within ourselves, what we learn about ourselves, in the most intimate ways as his characters find themselves. 

i try to write film reviews. again.

Tokyo Story (1953) by Yasujiro Ozu 

There couldn’t be a simpler film one could see, yet still have so much emotional bearing. In the story of an old couple visiting their children in 50s Tokyo, where urbanity is still a work in progress, we see how the rural Japanese take advantage of the routinely peace they have in their everyday lives—so it’s big feat then to cross the country and disrupt their homely affinities.

Not forcing any emotions to the audience, Ozu’s take on how the couple’s children talk about their parents and how they interact with them recognizes the disparity of both circumstances: in front of their parents they are still respectful but disengaged figures; but behind their backs they seem to be more active in complaining about their time-consuming presence in their households.

But what separates the movie from the vexation of the children, and their clumsy efforts to drive them away in the city, would be the warm and welcoming Noriko, who, if one would pay close attention, could be the film’s driving force and stark reminder of Japanese themes of casting a strong importance to family. Noriko was the wife of their son who died in the war, and yet she seems to be the closest one to the couple, a figure that seems to have never drifted from the family even years after her husband’s death.

Although the parents discuss their disappointment toward their children’s lukewarm treatment of them, we never once hear them compare their actions to Noriko’s, but it’s bluntly obvious. Setsuko Hara, who plays the wonderful Noriko, lays claim and ennobles her character through her coy smiles and shy but prideful ownership of her life as a widow. We see throughout the movie how committed she is making the couple feel at home, which somehow brings in a sour anger towards the children. One could narrow it down to the conclusion that it might have been her way of feeling closer to her husband, or it could be just her nature as person, or both. 

In 50s Japan, family destruction because of the war and modernization is a hard pill one should swallow: Children drift apart from their parents as they move, parents retain their lives as peaceful as they could, and nothing stays the same. Ozu carefully breaks through this sentiment, without leaving out the elements of indifference in the face of the children and familiarity in the person of a non-blood relative. No emotions are forced, and yet the comeuppance of the conclusive warmth between Noriko and the couple greatly speaks of emotional value. 

No other story could be as resolute as this masterful re-telling of centuries-old truths; family is family and yet, it does not always concern blood.

Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962) by Agnes Varda

Women are always (disparagingly) misunderstood in all aspects of life; either though our choices, our actions, the word we speak, even the food we eat and don’t eat. 

In Varda’s first entry come the French New Wave, we see a woman in her ripening years as a pop star in France but there’s a caveat to it: she is burdened by a Tarot reading that says she is about to fall sick from a terminal illness she could not help. We instantly learn that she had been to the hospital days before to get tested for any presence of cancer in her body.

The movie runs on her fear: Of death, of people misunderstanding her, of dying before not doing enough so much as living as a (lonely) singer. Tailed by the many people in her life that see her as a caged, sheltered child, Cléo vexes at the idea that all of these are meaningless and is worried that this could all be there is for her, empty, routinely, and parasitic connections. 

Her fear burns like a wildfire within her, but is only regarded as a niche, womanly weakness by the many, even treated as a portentous attempt of hers for more people to pay attention. But she does not need attention, for she only wants some peace from the things she saw in a span of two hours: Seemingly dreadful masks on display in stores that speak of death, street performers doing feats that verge on the weird and desperate, and the unbelievable people who seem to only know her as the French pop star with a great figure. 

In France, the fifth hour of the afternoon is the hour for meeting lovers, rendezvousing at random alleyways. It is the time for coffee, wine and strolling. But for Cléo, it is the hour she dies slowly. And yet she is disregarded. She becomes hyperaware of her surroundings as the hours go by, and she never seems to shrug off the details—a couple breaking up in a café, the expectant looks of fans eyeing her from head to toe, another couple complaining of the “noise” in the jukebox, which happens to be her song. 

All these disheartening scenes add up to the rising and fattening anxieties she acquired from 5 p.m. going to 7 p.m. But we never see the grand explosion in the end, the conclusive tantrum to a growing frustration. Instead, we see it right before 6 p.m. mark, as she snaps at the two musicians who visit her home and force her to be a lively figure through her music. After all, she’s just a pop star, her beauty is enough. 

“Your beauty is your health,” seems to the case in point of the superficiality of the people who surround her career, including a lover. She finds herself disgusted by this, correctly so. Varda masterfully sewed the moment in the middle to let the audience in on a secret: Cléo is not just another pop star. As with any female singer, being a woman in the entertainment industry is hard enough, so much so as a budding one, unwillingly groomed to impress.

The grand ending would happen some 20 minutes before the feature ends, as she meets a soldier in a garden hidden from the eyes of Paris. Sharing the same sentiments of life over a walk out to the city, a tram ride and long stares, we realize that a doomed connection is building up: Doomed because a soldier is paid to give his life, and therefore sign himself up foe death. They are walking the same gang plank. With this their eyes tell one thing, and love ensues. But the scene ends there, and we are left with the cruel conclusion.

Ever so slightly told, Varda tells us that women are and always will be at the sharp edge of the sword for all the things they are going through. Though regarded as one of the French New Wave’s pillars, it escapes me why she’s not regarded alongside the ranks of Godard, Truffaut, Resnais or Rohmer. It’s always these men’s name. Perhaps the film industry was never ready for the influence of a woman. Because Cléo is the turning point of that ticking emotion for women, and no one can come close to how Varda told her story. 

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#WalangForever (2015) dir. Dan Villegas

First of all: let's discontinue the use of this term. There are far more advantageous ways to articulate our cynicism towards the idea of love and its perpetuity. But in the midst of all this linguistic drama, it can't be denied how this film bows to traditional Filipino film making: it's lucrative, judging from the amount of audience owing it their own positive judgment, and, no matter how annoyingly undeniable, that's the way the Filipino mind works. A romcom movie wouldn't hurt the heart (and mind) so bad, despite the possible fragmentation that might occur as we delve in deeper between the characters' mind. 

To better word it, this movie only gave us temporary strength when it comes to seeing what the heart truly wants (or needs). I love the movie, despite having a slight resemblance with The Fault in Our Stars' plot. Maybe my first statement about love and its uncertainty was propelled by the mishaps I have encountered. Maybe not.

Maybe we can talk about this? Contact me. Charot.

 

Barry Lyndon (1975) dir. Stanley Kubrick

Stanley Kubrick's most critically acclaimed work may not be one for the books for me, but it did pull something at me: Barry Lyndon's incapacity to stay at ease. He is an impulsive man with dreams of being at the top of his game. Much like the generation I fall under. The character's impermanence stays as the main identity of the film, and we all know Kubrick evokes every detail off the characters and the scenes they are acting. Being a book adaptation, Kubrick is given the novel as a guide, and he greatly put the words into fine photoplay. I haven't read the book (nor will I ever give it a try, apologetically), but it does look like a detailed visual orientation of the life of Barry Lyndon. 

Kubrick definitely does not consider film making as a task. It's a commitment for him, and this film would greatly prove it. 

 Beetlejuice (1986) dir. Tim Burton 

I've seen this movie before, and seeing it again as an eighteen-year-old girl made me miss how much I got scared over everything as a child. Winona Ryder once again wooed me into the world she lived in when she was just a cutesie adolescent. Flawless as ever, her act as a confused, scared, gothic child of two completely antithetical parents sparked something in me, now a full-grown (sadly) girl: you can be everything you want and still do great.

Also Alec Baldwin was such an eye candy.

Being John Malkovich (1999) dir. Spike Jonze

I've always hated the idea of someone having the knowledge of what I truly feel. They start acting like you owe your devotion to them, and worse, they may never see you as the same person they knew before, which is unsettling because it would never have been this way if only they were more cautious of their own ego and pride. Spike Jonze put me in great discomfort when I first saw this film. He, once again, made me want to destroy artificial intelligences. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of having someone live and inside you, and have total control of your emotions. I've been tormented before by some of my mean and do-nothing classmates from elementary, and I guess this film is the worst representation of bullying: making someone erase their own identity and putting them to absolute hell. 

An Education (2009) dir. Lone Scherfig

Lesson: do not, and I mean do not, put your whole life behind your back for a stupid boy or girl. Jenny Mellor (auspiciously played by Carey Mulligan) was downright dumb when she let herself in too deep. It was love, she saw it. I saw it, but the excruciating pain of putting your future at the edge of a bridge will never be worth it, especially if you were told of its consequences when everything is too late.

The thing I absolutely loved about this film is the director's brave accusation of girls being dumber than ever for someone who showed her gold (only to find out that it has the lasting shine of a plastic container), yet still finding unbelievable ways to redeem themselves and have the strong ability of conquering the best and worst of both worlds: being in love with someone and loving themself so much they start being great. 

So here's this film for all the daft, vapid, and unreasonable commitments I have yet to put myself into, all for the promise of love... and the idea of forever. Charot lang ulit. 

Blue Velvet (1986) dir. David Lynch

I never got the essence of the whole film. I liked it some, but not really one of the films I'll see for a second time. It was great, in all of its anonymous glory and the characters' mysterious roles in their town. But I guess it didn't have that lasting effect I was looking forward to seeing in this film. 

Dream Girls (2006) dir. Bill Condon

I can't stress enough how much I adore girl groups. They're so powerful, with their songs tugging you hard enough to make it feel like you're being invited at a revolution that fights for the most crucial things on earth, like discrimination. It's an empowering movie, with the true portrayal of ostracism between girls and how it ruins the camaraderie they cultivated as sisters. 

The singers were as talented as ever, and you can't the deny the power they evoke while playing the characters of desperate singers. Of course, Beyoncé shined in this movie, but you really can't deny that all of them conjured the same amount of shimmer and power. Bill Condon really put up a show that put all the actors at the spotlight. DEFINITELY ONE OF MY NEW FAVORITE MOVIES.

Body Double (1984) dir. Brian de Palma

This movie creeped the hell out of me!!! I didn't know about the real Always Mind Your Belongings and Lock Your Doors Before Going To Sleep stages of living (and surviving). It was a trip over to Mind Fuck and Brian de Palma's own set of aesthetic style was a plus one. The music used for the "telescope scene" in the protagonist's borrowed home was both enchanting and awfully disturbing. It's an eerie kind of beautiful, because, hey, who would want someone staring at you over their windows as you do your business in your room? This is a new kind of abduction, with your privacy being taken from you without your consent. 

But the cinematography pays off, in all its lightly colored magic, juxtaposing the movie's whole representation of murder and assault--the Real World.

Chinatown (1974) dir. Roman Polanski

If you've ever wondered how Jack Nicholson acquired his penchant for bluffing in films, maybe this film might help you as a guide. He is unapologetic, and does not play for mild-minded audiences. You never really know if he's the character you should root for, or if yo should antagonize him for the rest of your life because his acting is so well-grounded. Polanski remains to be one of the greatest filmmakers of this century, we can't deny that, and his work for this film does not beg to differ. The man has cultivated such an identity that you can't deny the unwavering power he has over his characters and the dark story behind their woes. He really is a great storyteller.

Eat, Drink, Man, Woman (1994) dir. Ang Lee

I've come to realize that Ang Lee's eastern projects are, by far, more exceptional than that of his western projects. It was very well-written, and never did it bother to be deep and have ambiguity that are sometimes (badly) represented by directors. I don't know, maybe it's my undying affinity for Asian films. the unexpected turn of  events sent me reeling (for answers) from both hilarity and sadness. Ang Lee clearly delved into the characters' inner beliefs and, as genius as he can get, performed them purely on camera, with the actors paying great deal to the characters' own woes. 

And this is just another reminder that food is LOVE.

Eraserhead (1977) dir. David Lynch

This movie was very surrealist as it can get. David Lynch didn't fall into pastiche with this movie and you can definitely see his effortless work on propagating a normal outlook on the part of the audience. It's as if watching the normal life you lived get disturbed by something so unusual. The setting was as terrifying as it is very typical for the characters, another thing abnormally beautiful about the whole feature. 

I never stopped thinking about living in a world like this; it literally sent me shivers. I love how I got scared of a horror movie, for the first time in forever. 

color and cinematography

I went on a Wes Anderson binge last December because two weeks before the aforementioned affair with his films, I decided to have Margot Tenenbaum's haircut. So I googled potential hairdos and I somehow came across with the Wes Anderson color palettes. I love how hued and precise the palettes are, which speaks to how the movie was either shot abundant with color or is moderate on the chroma; but I loved every film regardless of the color scheme!!! 

I've decided that Wes Anderson is my favorite filmmaker, alongside Sofia Coppola and Bernardo Bertolucci.

Also, I decided to leave my long hair; maybe next time.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)

I really love Margot's characters that I am willing to chop my hair off just to don her straight bob. But I have wavy hair so maybe not... sad face. 

(Speaking of Margot, Gwyneth Paltrow is going to be on a movie called Mortdecai and I can't help but think of Richie Tenenbaum and his bird, Mordecai. Funny how I think the producers made it on purpose AND how gullible the idea is to think about because it's just a coincidence.) (Or not.) (Still hoping for the best, though.) 

 The color palettes also catch the shade of their skin tones, it's amazing. 

The Darjeeling Limited (2007)

I love how Jason Schwartzmann's roles on almost every Wes Anderson film depict a mischievous boy longing for something. 

I love movies that start with a dysfunctional relationship between parties but is cultivated to make it an *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟadaptive alliance between the characters *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ

This is my favorite Wes Anderson film! I think my adulation for the color blue did the job. The movie also made it clear that the Indian culture will prosper; the Indian funeral was very interesting!!!

Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

THE ANIMATION OF THIS MOVIE IS WORTH OGLING OVER FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS. It's very compelling how they made it work, because stop-motion features take a lot of time. They look very cartoony and it's amazing how the other props--the houses, the factories, food, etc.--look very real with a hint of a children's book style (well, duh, it's based on a children's book). 

Also I can't stop thinking about George Clooney. 

Look at this law firm. It's so real and cartoony at the same time. 

I want these as a toy so I could keep them!!! So cute ;___;

My favorite parts were the moving-in to the treehouse and the grocery store scene. Yes, it's because of the intricately designed settings and colors WAH.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) 

This is also my favorite, alongside The Darjeeling Limited!!! And yes, I already talked about this movie on this post--in which I embarrassed myself on the worldwide web by having poor construction of words and trying too hard to sound like an expert. I was practicing my journalistic credibility, but I failed. NOTHING BUT A SECOND-RATE TRYING HARD seventeen-year-old girl with frizzy hair. 

UNEXPECTED

I hung out with my best friend last Saturday! I was in bliss because I had no classes. I actually planned to reserve the whole day for reading but then our plans to go out and  ~do something~ pushed through. We kinda did  wanna bail because we were too lazy to move and we wanted to sleep for the whole day. But the chance was laughing in front of our faces; we couldn't let it go! We miss each other so much. So we woke up very early and yay, history.

We met up at SM BF. And seeing her for the first time in almost two months made me laugh, I don't know why. I missed her. She's still so small, nothing changed. Still looks like a pre-schooler HEHEHE. We had lunch at Burger King and we did a lot of catching up. Also there was this girl next to us who just kept on staring at us whenever we make snide remarks about something. She'd turn her head in our way whenever I say/Sam says something. We later on concluded that the girl is not happy and that she's jealous because we are happy and beautiful, instead of judging her. That's how you dodge the hate. Kidding. 

While we were on the way to somewhere, an old woman grabbed our attention. She was crying for help. She said she's not asking for anything from us, that she's selling imported coffee--from Singapore. She was selling it for fifty pesos per packet. She has cancer and she hasn't eaten anything for a day. My heart sank when she started crying. We gave her money and told her that it's okay, she should keep her coffee for her to sell more of it. But she insisted and she started crying even harder and God, I wanted to stay there with her; but we were in a hurry. 

I wonder where her family is. It really disappoints me when they leave their relatives like that! And I really hate seeing things like this because I would literally think about it the whole day. I'd space out every ten minutes and think about what I saw several hours ago. Still thinking about her as of the moment. This will stay with me for the whole month. Or so. God, I hope help has reached her already. I wish I took a picture of her for everyone to see. Maybe someone could've helped her if I took a photo. I'm so stupid. 

Anyway, after sam has fulfilled her duty, we headed straight to Greenbelt to meet her mother. I also missed her mom. 

Kunwari stolen, pero we actually planned on doing that, HAHA. You can see her semi-smile from the side, lol. Also, she fixed her hair for this, please don't judge. Minsan lang kami gumawa ng ganito. 

OBLIGATORY ~FROM WHERE I STAND~ PHOTO!!! I really lik Sam's shoes, especially her blue socks that don't seem to go with her shoes... also the pebbles looked lovely. 

After much wandering around Greenbelt and taking pictures of everything, we finally met up with her mom and went straight to the cinemas to watch If I Stay. I never really finished the book; I actually thought Mia would not stay because I thought the second book, Where She Went, was about Mia going someplace else (a.k.a. HEAVEN, or some alternate universe for dead people... I don't know). 

The movie was very...yeah. I got very emotional at some parts, especially that part wherein Mia's grandpa was reassuring her that it's okay if she wants to go. HIS VOICE CRACKED AS HE REACHED FOR MIA'S HAND. Megatears. I literally had goosebumps during that scene. I just wish Mia had woken up instead because of her grandfather. I love Adam's character. His character is every girl's dream, to be honest. Jamie Blackley played the part unbelievably well. But I really loved that bond Mia had with her grandfather. Sigh, why do we need to romanticize everything. [AGGRESSIVELY STOPS SELF FROM TALKING ABOUT HOW PEOPLE LABEL US GIRLS AS SEXUAL BEINGS WHO ONLY ASPIRE FOR MARRIAGE AND ROMANCE!!!] 

All in all, the movie was...so relatable. Also, yeah, fight me if you think it's uncool of me for not finishing the book! Let's cheers for potential bigotry, hmm. 

Afterward, we went to Bershka and pretended we have money for all the lovely things we found. Especially that black leather jacket. It's still there! It's been three months since I last saw it and I'm glad it's still there. Even though I have no plans of buying it anyway. It's seven grand, what the hell. I guess it's too expensive for their liking. 

Sam's mom left earlier than expected because she has to pick up her little brother, Gio, at Waltermart. Kinda sad because I was expecting us three girls to have dinner. AWW. We had Yellow Cab instead. Sam and I had one Charlie Chan because we weren't that hungry anyway. I MISSED EATING THAT. I LOVE CHARLIE CHAN SO MUCH. 

We went to Cotton On after this. I tried on some cute clothes, and I want them all. So to make up for all the clothes I didn't buy that night, I bought these cute fox socks from Forever 21. Sam and I have matching pairs hehe. HOW BFF-y OF US. 

I really missed this girl. I'm still not used to the fact that I don't see her face everyday, that I don't have lunch with her everyday at the bench with our friends laughing. After next week, we will be on an endless ride of  when-do-I-see-you-again's again. (It's like I'm her boyfriend, wtf). I miss my friends so much, I wish I was with them 24/7. 

Also hello Sam, this post is for you. Please feel better because you are very beautiful (LUH HAHAHA) and yeah that's life. Just look at my face whenever you feel sad and emo. See you again on Saturday. Let's slay!!!!