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thefriendlyfrog · 4 years

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Too many thoughts on SPN 15x17, “Unity”

Welp, I don’t usually do this, but this episode was so great and packed with so many good parallels and callbacks I couldn’t help it! Meredith Glynn is such a great writer. So, let’s begin. Lots of spoilers under the cut.

The first scene opens up to Amara living life to the fullest in an Icelandic hot spring (I’ve been to some in Iceland and would 10/10 recommend – don’t bother with the Blue Lagoon, though). My eyes were immediately drawn to the super recognizable cover of Murakami’s “Norwegian Wood”. Now, I haven’t read this book since, like, high school (now realizing that was a DECADE ago), but I do remember the general plot and themes of the story (I should really reread that again, it’s a good book). Basically, the story is recalled by our narrator and protagonist Watanabe at a later point in his life as he is reminded of a time of life when the Beatles’ song “Norwegian Wood” plays. I don’t want to spoil the whole book, but basically it is a coming of age story that is steeped in themes of regret, sex, love, and death (among others, it really is a literary treasure trove!). Skip the next paragraph if you don’t want “Norwegian Wood” spoilers.

In short: Watanabe’s best friend from high school commits suicide which haunts him and his friend’s girlfriend, Naoki, for the rest of their lives. Watanabe and Naoki become close and romantically involved, but she leaves for a sanitorium. Watanabe wants to be with Naoki despite her telling him that she doesn’t think she can love anymore (she described herself and her high school boyfriend as soulmates). Watanabe later meets Naoki’s opposite, Midori, a lively girl who Watanabe grows close to and is also interested in. Watanabe essentially doesn’t move forward as he is waiting on Naoki while having Midori waiting on him. At the end of the story, it is revealed that it has always been Midori and he realizes he wants to be with her.

I thought that this was an EXCELLENT pick for Amara to be reading. It really sums of a lot of surface and not-so-surface level themes in Supernatural. Wondering if there is a parallel between Dean and Watanabe about sort of idealizing a life (with someone) that isn’t meant to be while ignoring love in front of you? Would love to hear all of your thoughts.

Moving on (I’m skipping through parts of the episode to just focus on some key observations)! Amara tries to convince Chuck to fight on behalf of this world and wants to show him some of his creations. So, she brings him to Heaven to see his ‘first children’ (i.e., angels). She also refers to angels as having prefect angelic devotion which immediately made me laugh because our fave angel Cas is really devoted to Dean humanity and not Chuck. Ahh! This whole episode just kept pointing out how special Cas is.

And then, callback after callback began. Amara brings Chuck to the bunker so Chuck says, “Is this a trap?” which made me think of episode 9 (“The Trap” by Berens). This was almost immediately followed by another callback when Chuck says, “You can’t hold me here forever,” to which Amara replies, “I can hold you long enough.” Um, Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets (12x10, Yockey), anyone?

Ishim: “You can’t hold me here forever.” … Lily’s powers are wearing off as Ishim approaches her until Cas stabs Ishim in the back with his angel blade. Cas: “You held him for long enough.”

Like, COME ON! Almost verbatim.

Skipping forward to Dean and Jack’s adventure to visit my favorite hippies, Adam and Serafina (like seriously, they were fantastic characters!). Adam refers to himself as, “…first dude off of the assembly line,” which is similar language that has been used to referring to angels in the past (again, invoking Castiel?)

Then Dean assumes the woman is Eve but they both just shake their heads and chuckle, “I’m Serafina,” I’m definitely not the first one to point this out but… the First Man being in a near-lifelong romantic relationship with an angel named Seraph Serafina?! Uh, yeah, ‘nuff said.

Serafina also mentions that she saw Jack when she and Adam were, “…sipping mushroom tea on the Hanging Gardens of Babylon,” which made me wonder if there was some sort of connection with Glynn’s season 14 episode, “Byzantium” (14x08), which is the episode Cas makes his deal with the Empty. Babylon was a fortress of the Byzantine empire (not going to lie, my historical knowledge about the Byzantine empire is preeeeetty limited).

I also loved the whole speech by Serafina to Dean: “I mean, just think of everything that has had to happen to get Jack to this place, to this moment. Baby, it was meant to be,” Dean, of course, is upset by this because he is probably thinking that this was all basically predestined, and he has had no free will. However, he just needs to wait a little while longer until Chuck tells him to his face that he has never been able to control Cas since he laid his hand on Dean saving him from Hell.

Serafina also heals Adam’s wound and it is, of course, super reminiscent of Cas healing Dean (although, even Serafina doesn’t directly touch Adam when healing him – it’s, once again, unique to Castiel). Obligatory hand squeal: HANDS!!!! Wow, they are not even trying to be subtle about the whole hands thing. It is so IN YOUR FACE begging for the audience to notice it.

Adam then mentions how much power is in his rib: “But this puppy? Is packing enough punch to create LIFE. Or, in your case, destroy God.” Well, at this point I think we can all be pretty certain that in the end it will NOT be used to destroy God, so will it instead be used for creation? Excited to see how they defuse Jack’s supernova bomb next episode.

Rounding off Dean’s vignette is a heartbreaking scene with him and Jack in the Impala. Dean says, “I don’t know how to explain it. When I learned about Chuck, it was like – it’s like I wasn’t alive. Not really. You know, like, my whole life I’ve never been free. But like, really free. But now, me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life…But now we have a chance. And that’s because of you.” Again, this is before Dean learns that Cas’ actions were made of his own free will, and from the sounds of it, Dean’s connection to Amara as well. I also immediately wondered if Jack bringing Dean some sense of freedom was what Cas saw when Jack showed him “paradise”.

Moving on to Sam’s vignette: Sam remembers that Sergei mentioned the Key of Death was in the bunker (how did he remember this, wasn’t he unconscious at the time? A little disappointed Cas didn’t get to provide that little fact but I’m also glad that Sam actually served a purpose this episode and was a bit more front and center). They find the Key of Death and there is an inscription in Latin on the box:

Viator mortalis, cave, quoniam scias Clavem Mortis pensare graviter. Il tamen desideres ut introeas illum abyssum obscurissimum artis opus est tibi porta.

Okay, fair warning: I took Latin for 4 years but it has been awhile so my translation is super not perfect, but I figured I would take a stab at it because the subtitles were wrong at times and Google translate is not perfect. I translated it as something like this:

Mortal traveler, beware, because you know the Key of Death should be considered seriously. However, if you want to enter the darkest abyss, this work of art is the gate/door.

Honestly, there were a few words that I couldn’t find the right conjugations to and I know this isn’t 100% accurate, but it gives you the gist.

Sam then visits Death’s library and finds the Empty there, killing people (?) to get in touch with Death, whom they hasn’t been trusting as of late. We learn that Death’s plan is to assume the role of New God and restore the world back to order, bring back rules. The Empty is wary because they don’t know if they can trust the promise of being able to go back to sleep. Trust issues, the Empty says, because of “your busted-ass friend in the trench coat,” another subtle-not-so-subtle mention of Cas. But why, exactly, did Cas give the Empty ‘trust issues’? Was it because he woke up in the first place? Because he has ‘traipsed in and out’ of the Empty without dying?

We also learn that only Billie can read Chuck’s Death book, and, this may be a crack idea but… maybe Cas should be able to read the book because he was the one that killed Billie and made her Death in the first place? Seems like Cas might have a connection to Billie. It would be cool if Cas were the one to read Chuck’s book.

Finally, we learn a bit more about the Empty, and how they can’t go to Earth unless summoned. Hmm…

Flash forward to Amara and Chuck in the bunker. Amara tells Chuck, “It’s not too late, brother,” and, if you’re like me, you finished that sentence with “it’s never too late (to start all over again)”. So many great Destiel songs out there, but “Never Too Late” takes the cake for me.

Amara and Chuck decide to become one, become ultimate balance. Chuck extends his hand and Amara grasps it as she is absorbed into Chuck. I don’t even know if I really need to say this, but… HANDS! (Destiel is already canon to me but if the show is going to make it more explicitly canon for the audience, it’s going to be through hands as I know people have been shouting about for several seasons now).

To finish, let’s talk about that kick-ass scene with TFW 2.0 at the end of the episode. We find out that Chuck’s real ending is to have Dean regress and give in to rage and kill everything he loves, probably ultimately leading to his own death. Woof, what a tragic ending (tragedy ≠ good ending). So, we’ve got to subvert that which Dean does after a heartfelt plea from Sam (“You would trade me?”). I enjoyed how much Dean looked back at Cas during this exchange, especially after Sam tells Dean that Eileen will die again. The parallels, the connection.

Honestly, I’m not sure why Cas and Jack were in that scene other than to have some meaningful glances exchanged between Cas and Dean and because TFW2.0 is together in the next scene. But… whatever, more Cas so I liked it.

And finally, the scene that had me shaking with VINDICATION.

Cas to Chuck: “What, you consumed your sister?” Chuck: “We came to an understanding, so spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday. You know what every other version of you did after ‘gripping him tight and raising him from perdition’? They did what they were told. But not you. Not the ‘one off the line with a crack in his chassis’” (Cas looks back at Dean after a moment)

Okay, so let’s break this exchange down. So much satisfaction with just a few sentences. Bravo, Ms. Glynn.

“We came to an understanding.” Didn’t Michael and Adam say the same thing after they decided to share equally in their bond and vessel? Callback #1.

“…self-hating angel of Thursday.” Ahh, it’s been so long since we got mention that Cas is the angel of Thursday. The last time was, what, when Crowley says it to Cas back in season 6? By the way, it was totally meant to be that Supernatural will finish off the series on a Thursday. Callback #2 (ish).

“You know what every other version of you did after ‘gripping him tight and raising him from perdition’?” This is the second time the show has repeated Cas’ first line to Dean near-verbatim in two seasons. You know, just in case the audience forgot Dean and Cas’ infamous first meeting (which I am like 99% sure we are going to get hella callbacks to next episode). Callback #3.

“They did what they were told. But not you. Not the ‘one off the line with a crack in his chassis.’” Again, Chuck is closely paraphrasing what Naomi said about Cas in season 8:

8x21 “The Great Escapist” – Naomi: “You're the famous spanner in the works. Honestly, I think you came off the line with a crack in your chassis. You have never done what you were told. Not completely. You don't even die right, do you?”

Callback #4. Seriously, Glynn packed four callbacks into such a short time period. Wizard.

My only *criticism* of this final scene is that Dean and Cas didn’t seem to react too much to Chuck’s news about Cas always having free will (although, I think Cas already knew this, but it is news and confirmation to Dean!). I highly suspect that will come next week, though. I’m SO excited (and also terrified) for next week. We are definitely going to be getting a lot of Cas next episode. Misha, in an interview, mentioned that we would get Cas’ ‘chapter’ in 18, and I’m wondering if this will be the true Cas-centric episode? I don’t know, maybe the Cas-centric episode was “Gimme Shelter” but I was expecting more of a “The Man Who Would Be King” kind of Cas-centric episode.

All in all, 10/10. I keep reading and seeing things that are galaxy braining me, so it has been super fun reading all the meta and reactions to this episode.

Three episodes left. Get your tissues ready for Cas’ death (oops, is this even a spoiler at this point?) next episode. And remember, “Nothing ever really ends,” and “The end has no end,”

#spn #spn 15 #spn spoilers #spn 15 spoilers #spn 15x17 #15x17 #Unity #Meredith Glynn #Destiel #Deancas #hands #meta #maybe?#spn meta #meta or just random thoughts and reactions #awesome episode #profound bond #castiel is key #supernatural

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anhed-nia · 5 years

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BLOGTOBER 10/21/2019: TERROR IN THE WOODS

I consider this to be the second Slender Man movie that I viewed this blogtober season. Previously, I wrote about THE TALL MAN, a twisty 2012 thriller by Pascal Laugier, the writer-director of 2008′s MARTYRS, which is coincidentally about a pair of traumatized young women who are driven to violence by the belief that they must placate a monstrous supernatural entity. THE TALL MAN does not share that similarity with the Slender Man mythos, but it makes a familiar proposal: A tall shadowy male figure emerges from the forest to abscond with children, for reasons that may be either murderous, or that may instead offer lonely and dejected little kids an escape into a sort of gothic Neverland. This odd killer-savior dichotomy reflects the pathos at the heart of Slender Man fandom, an obsession that thousands of ordinary young people shared with juvenile attempted murderers Morgan Geyser and Anissa Weier. Their story is so well-known that it feels a little embarrassing to explain that the eerie Slender Man is the fictitious product of an online Photoshop contest. His first appearance, surrounded by young victims and/or acolytes, was captioned thusly:

“We didn't want to go, we didn't want to kill them, but its persistent silence and outstretched arms horrified and comforted us at the same time… “

The images’ combination of spooky shit and childhood innocence would have felt pretty cliche even in 2009, but the conflation of victimization with salvation is a potent one. It evokes both the escapist bent that is so pronounced in children, and also the death drive--the psychoanalytic idea that people are subconsciously attracted to their own inevitable and perhaps cathartic conclusions. Maybe someone has already named this form of suicidal ideation that represents both the desire for everything to stop, and the hopeful fantasy that death could be the beginning of something else; If so, I would love to read about it. For want of that, we have the sadly overexposed yet still poorly understood story of 12 year olds Moran Geyser and Anissa Weier attempting to make a sacrifice of their supposed friend Payton Leutner to the Slender Man. A thinly-veiled version of this story is articulated successfully in the Lifetime original movie TERROR IN THE WOODS.

The generic title gives no hint of what this well-acted and psychologically realistic production is like. While no names are named, including the Slender Man’s, Ella West Jerrier and Sophie Grace play extraordinarily convincing stand-ins for Geyser and Weier, as the awkward, isolated little girls who become increasingly obsessed with a Creepy Pasta-like website where they find out about a demonic creature called the Suzerain. Like the Slender Man, the terms of one’s relationship with the Suzerain are complicated. Once you have its attention, you have to make a blood sacrifice, or else it will annihilate your family. However, making the sacrifice brings the strange reward of being accepted into the Suzerain’s remote mansion, where you live forever as his slave. That might not sound too good to just anybody, but an unhappy, confused, and powerless person sees in it an escape from the ravages of the mundane world, and also a relief from the painful burden of personal responsibility, as the Suzerain becomes your ultimate and eternal authority. This is where the Payton Leutner character comes in (played perfectly by Skylar Morgan Jones), an even more naive and immature classmate who was being edged out of girls’ triangle before the Suzerain “chose” her for sacrifice.

While I feel concerned about some of the oversimplified causes that TERROR IN THE WOODS seems to identify--chiefly, well-meaning but absent parents who are too concerned with their personal dramas to notice the murder plot hatching under their noses--the movie nails perpetrator’s personalities, keeping the focus appropriately on their emotional turmoil and complex delusions. Minus the acerbic comedy, TERROR sometimes feels like a Todd Solondz picture, with true to life characters rendered in agonizing detail, especially Skylar Morgan Jones, who is as unlikable as she is undeserving. Their vulnerability, their tackiness, and their juvenile pretensions are all beautifully fleshed-out. One rarely sees an honest, warts-and-all portrayal of young children in anything besides obnoxiously arty, explicit indie dramas, and this quality puts Lifetime ahead of the curve (as they often are) in terms of a certain kind of domestic realism. Even the attempted murder scene pulls no punches, graphically depicting the savage stabbing of a little girl who ends up drenched in blood and rolled in forest floor detritus.

As I just suggested, I object somewhat to the easy-out presented here, that all of this could have been prevented if only the parents were more attentive to their children’s internet activity, and more suspicious of their perceived emotional states. Today I watched the two hour 20/20 special about the crime, in which a lot of professional adults say a lot of incredibly stupid things about the “obvious” problems with Geyser and Meier. “Is ‘I want to die’ a normal thing for a child to write?” blusters one expert rhetorically about a diary entry, at which I nearly screamed “OF COURSE IT IS!” Anyone who never experienced such exaggerated feelings of emotional exhaustion as a young teen would have to be either extremely sheltered, or sort of a psychopath themselves. Throughout the special, grownups who think Apple Jacks should taste like apples spar over whether Geyser and Morgan are just fundamentally bad people, completely ignoring the complex and detailed psychology laid out in the Slender Man literature itself. On one hand is the threat of family annihilation by this creature in whom the two girls manifestly deeply believed. On the other hand, respite from a continued life of bullying and rejection from all of their peers. Fear, sadness, alienation, and actual mental illness permeate this tragic story. In fact, the girls were ultimately diagnosed with schizophrenia and shared psychosis, respectively. However, even with all that on the table, some individuals remain happy to go on TV post-trial speculating frothily that these kids just wanted to know what it felt like to commit murder, and that maybe in this story we have discovered “that rarest of things--an evil 12 year old!”

It isn’t that I don’t think evil 12 year olds can exist. I don’t believe in the patent innocence of children any more than I believe that parents are completely capable of knowing (and changing) their child’s every thought and feeling, down to the ability to determine that something as outrageous as a blood sacrifice is a real life possibility and not just a relatively normal morbid musing for a normally emo-y kid. Trying to imagine that level of domestic detective work reminds me of the superior documentary DEPROGRAMMED, which details how the filmmaker’s rebellious brother had his life ruined by parents who convinced themselves that he was a legitimate and dangerous devil worshipper. Life just isn’t that simple, and this urge to find simplistic causes and solutions for unpredictable events is no more rational or mature than the urge to find solace in an imaginary kingdom with no parents and no homework. At this point, I feel like I should apologize for failing to address this movie, which I really liked a lot, as much as I addressed the story of the Slender Man stabbing. TERROR IN THE WOODS is roundly well-acted, appropriately sympathetic to all parties, and soberly told. It’s just hard for me to separate the story from the movie, as both have potent things to say about how we underestimate the psychological complexity of childhood. I don’t have solutions to propose, except that I think a good place to start would be with responsible adults relinquishing their own shallow certainty about what can happen and what we can do.

#terror in the woods #blogtober #sophie grace #ella west jerrier #skylar morgan dunbar #angela kinsey #drew powell #true crime #slender man #urban legend #creepy pasta #thriller #drama #horror #dj viola #amber benson

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everygame · 7 years

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Heavy Rain (PS3)

Developed/Published by: Quantic Dream / Sony Computer Entertainment Released: 23rd February 2010 Completed: 14th January 2018 Completion: Finished it once. Trophies / Achievements: 41%

David Cage, eh? Let’s be honest, he sucks. I thought so well before his recent recently pillorying in the press for not just being a ego-centric fool but also a genuinely toxic one; I don’t need to go into the accusations here, you can read all about them at your leisure. He’s always been something of an anomaly in game development; someone who has literally never managed to make anything good (let’s not forget Peter Molyneux put in his time) yet has managed to get Sony to bankroll genuinely massive productions, not least the upcoming Detroit: Becoming Human. There’s an odd emperor’s new clothes to him.

Since the accusations, things get muddled of course. I don’t think Cage should lead a game again; before, I’d have said purely because he makes shitty things. But now it’s one of those things where the “shitty things” in question have all the hallmarks that make us ask—why weren’t the questions being asked before? One only has to look at his recent wrong-headed defense of triggering sequences from Detroit: Being Human to see there’s something wrong there, as soon as he’s actually challenged.

Perhaps you’d view this all as an aside, but I there’s been a lot of chat recently that the reason gaming hasn’t had its “me too” moment is simply that women and marginalized people in game development simply don’t have the power. It’s very different being a known actress from being a programmer, or an artist in a team of hundreds; Quantic Dream isn’t just a production house that will just put someone else in Cage’s place; he’s the founder, he owns it, he’s not going anywhere.

It sucks.

[Keza MacDonald would write an article about this lack of a “me too moment” for The Guardian that’s worth reading—pointing out that things like #1reasonwhy shouldn’t be forgotten.]

So with that all said, it’s with rather a different light that I consider my decision with a few friends to play Cage’s post-Fahrenheit/Indigo Prophecy games “as a lark” as a bit… less… funny. I think it’s worthwhile to dig into it, anyway, as an experience, so yeah, let’s genuinely try and make sense of it and him.

For background, let’s discuss Fahrenheit, because sure as shit no one bothers to remember anything about Omikron: The Nomad Soul other than David Bowie was in it (tragically.) It’s a game that opens with a polygon model of Cage himself explaining how to play the game, and I remember cringing myself fully inside-out at that point. After that comes literally Cage’s one (1) memorable interesting bit of game design, the one (1) that literally everyone references. He places you as a man who has to hide a body in the bathroom of a diner and there are lots of different decisions to make as to how you do it; and then you play the police investigating it.

It’s interesting! Genuinely! Because of course, you know where the police should look and what they should do; but there’s that thought where… maybe you don’t want them to? There are lots of interesting things to do with “player omnipotence” in narrative games, but of course, this is basically the only time Cage does anything with it. Indeed, he spirals into what I consider his true trademarks: a complete inability to write a narrative that makes any sense, and leering sexism.

But of course, we’re not here to go into Farenheit’s plot (anyway, you all know it devolves into your zombie protagonist fighting the embodification of the internet, etc.) we’re here to with an open heart explore Heavy Rain as a serious work of an artis… I’m sorry I’ll start laughing like a drain again if I keep this up.

Heavy Rain has trophies, right? The first one you get is, literally, “Thank You For Supporting Interactive Drama.”

The hubris.

I mean, this is why you want to play this, right? Because you desperately want to try and understand how you could have so much ego, so much self-belief, that you literally do something like that.

I’m really not sure what Cage thinks interactive drama is, though. His games crib relentlessly from the language of cinema, but they’re just “interactive” right? So they’re interactive movies, right? But no, they aren’t. Because for some reason Cage is obsessed with the minutia of living. In literally any film, character doing things as mundane as, say, starting their car are cut out, filmed dynamically so they’re expressive and over quickly, or—if they are included—included for a particular narrative or thematic reason. But not in Heavy Rain. In Heavy Rain, if you want to do anything, you have to do it in the most insane detail using the absurd control system. Everything you do takes forever; just opening a door has to be done perfectly.

It adds nothing; it gums up the pacing and seems to be interactivity for interactivity’s sake, because (turns out) when it comes to the crunch your interactivity otherwise is going to be nothing more than quick-time events.

There’s another thing here, too, which I think speaks to Cage’s ego. In Heavy Rain, you can “fail” at basically anything by not doing it just right. So, for example, reaching to open a door. You can mess it up and your hand drops back to your side. You can do it slowly, you can do it fast and then stop. You can basically make your character look like a jerky moron who can’t open a door because you think it’s funny, and I genuinely refuse to believe that Quantic Dream didn’t get testers in who did this. I’ve talked before on this tumblr about how players should “meet the designer in the middle” and play along with what is expected, but a big part of that is (as the designer) not leaving your game open to abuse by offering the player things they don’t need and can basically only use to mess with the game. This is a perfect example of that, and I believe that in every situation Cage said “Real players won’t play it like that. Ignore it.”

Ego.

When you really get down to it, your interactions are little more than tedious housekeeping; only once does it make sense, as the beginning of the game you experience one character’s perfect family life and then (later) experience the shattered mirror of it, except they’re not actually direct analogues so I’m being fairly charitable in assuming that’s the point.

So let’s just pretend the game doesn’t include a lot of interactions that serve no purpose. I mean, if the story is good, usually we can excuse that, right?

Even if Heavy Rain had a plot that generally worked (it doesn’t) it does something so inexcusable that I’m shocked—shocked!—that anyone gives it a pass. I’ll give the (not so vague) spoiler that in this game (about the search for the mysterious “Origami Killer”) one of the characters you play *is* the Origami Killer! Except, for every character you play you can see their thoughts by pushing a button. And all the characters are investigating the Origami Killer, meaning one keeps investigating themselves. “Ah ha,” you might say, “obviously all of his thoughts are cleverly written to not implicate himself, but also are believably what the killer would think.”

No, they literally act like someone who doesn’t know who the killer is, thinking full thoughts that the killer could never think, and it’s not like he’s paranoid about his thoughts, or in a fugue state. It’s just… I mean, is this lazy writing? Or is it just the work of an actual moron? I mean the section of the game where he “cheats” by obscuring the actions of one of the main character is lazy writing. But this is breath-taking, the work of someone who either doesn’t know how stories work, or doesn’t care.

Let’s move on to Cage’s other hallmark; the leering. Heavy Rain is a game that has a lengthy nude shower-scene for the female protagonist that happens… in a dream. Also just to note we… don’t need a shower scene with her anyway? Or for her to like, have to fight off men in her pants for ages and ages, also in a dream? It’s ok though, she’s mostly there to tend the wounds of the male protagonist and shag him.

[“Actually, systems-wise, she’s actually necessary to help the player keep good endings available if they fuck up a lot with the other male protagonists. But yeah, she is mostly a nurse... I mean apart from that bit where she has to rip her dress and act slutty to go on to almost get sexually assaulted”—charitable ed.]

Look, I can’t bang on about Heavy Rain forever, it feels like I have already. After playing through the whole thing, I struggle if anything worse to understand how Cage not just got more work but managed to get Ellen Page to star in his next game? How this game won a BAFTA (well, a video game BAFTA) for STORY!

Heavy Rain is fucking shit and it’s not why David Cage should never work again, though at one point I’ve had said it would be. He should never work again because he’s a toxic garbage person. I hope Sony sticks him in the bin after their obligations relating to Detroit are over.

(Oh and all the staff that have suffered under him and his culture get lovely jobs making things that are good.)

Will I ever play it again? I wondered if it would be more interesting with the Move controls, but I’ll be fucked if I’m ever touching this again.

Final Thought: Above I talked about how this game drowns in the mundane; and I’d like to restate that I do think it’s a mistake to argue this is some kind of a directorial choice, to imbue that mundane with meaning. Like… I don’t know. Anyone from Ozu to Jarmusch can show how that can be used thoughtfully. Hell, just watch David Lynch’s Twin Peaks: The Return. Compare and contrast to failing to open a door because you didn’t hold the trigger down just right.

#heavy rain #video games #david cage #quantic dream #text #txt #games #gaming #playstation 3 #ps3 #ps4 #playstation 4 #sony computer entertainment #2010

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trashartandmovies · 5 years

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A Look Back at the 70th Berlinale (2020)

Was this year’s Berlinale a mistake? Should it have taken place? Did we all needlessly endanger and expose ourselves to a growing pandemic for the sake of cinema? Perhaps. Do I regret it? Not yet.

This was my first Berlinale as an accredited member of the press (thanks Cinematic Berlin!), so I certainly would’ve been heartbroken had it been cancelled. Even then, the flu was on everyone’s mind. People were finding ways to get past doors without actually touching them, ears finely tuned to pick up any hint of a nearby cough. Even in those waning days of February, which feels like a year ago, I was diligently washing my hands between every film and trying to grab the same seat in the last row at the back of the Berlinale Palast for every Competition screening. Today, I’m still not sure if I’m corona-free. But what I am sure of, as the festival glow dissipates, is that I saw a lot of good to great movies, and very few duds.

Of course, my luck being what it is, I saw around thirty movies and failed to see both the Golden Bear winner (Mohammad Rasoulof’s THERE IS NO EVIL) and the Silver Bear for Best Screenplay (The D'Innocenzo Brothers’ FAVOLACCE). However, I want to start this off by mentioning one award-winner that I did catch. In fact, it was the very first pre-festival screening I went to: Alexandre Rockwell’s SWEET THING, which deservedly won the Crystal Bear for best film in the Generation Kplus section.

Like certain American cinephiles of my age, I have deep admiration for Rockwell’s 1992 film, IN THE SOUP, featuring a cinematic duo for the ages, Steve Buscemi and Seymour Cassell. It’s an utterly charming lo-fi black & white movie about a would-be filmmaker and his aging gangster producer. What is absolutely astounding is that, from the very first frames of SWEET THING, Rockwell’s signature aesthetic transports you right back to 1992, as if the past thirty years of mega-plexes and shitty 3D screenings were but a nightmarish fever dream. There’s the same softly glowing back & white 16mm frames, the same deliberate editing and pacing… I couldn’t have asked for a better first screening as it rekindled a deep affection for cinema that has been stifled from time to time over the years.

SWEET THING is continuing Rockwell’s DIY, family-affair filmmaking of late, casting his teenage kids as the main characters and enlisting friends to fill out the cast. This one features Will Patton as the kids’ well-meaning but severely alcoholic dad. When Patton gets locked up, the kids are forced to live with their mom and her predatory boyfriend. It all sounds rather tragic, but Rockwell handles it with gentle grace. The kids refuse to be victims and end up runaways with a street-smart friend, played by the remarkably charismatic Jabari Watkins. Without spoiling anything, it is feel-good cinema at its charming best.

Since I failed to cover SWEET THING during the festival, I can now segue into an assemblage of my dispatches for Cinematic Berlin, along with some stray thoughts and final impressions…

Berlinale 70 — CB Dispatch I (First Cow, The Intruder, Hidden Away, The Salt of Tears, Undine)

The 70th edition of the Internationale Filmfestspiele Berlin, better known around the world as Berlinale, has begun. At this time every year, Postdammer Platz turns into a buzzing, glittering, highly-caffeinated hub for a ravenous collection of film fanatics. I’m sure I’m not alone in considering these eleven days in mid-to-late February something of a high holiday for the cinematically devout.

This year had some added levels of anticipation since it marks the beginning of new leadership, with Mariette Rissenbeek and Carlo Chatrian taking over from Dieter Kosslick, who’d been at the helm of the festival since 2002. Rissenbeek and Chatrian should already be commended for the fact that it still feels like the same Berlinale, in a good way. It’s still a festival that is extremely accessible to the general public and offers people a chance to see some of the world’s best cinema in some amazing kinos.

The most noticeable changes have been around the program sections, particularly the Competition section, which has been rearranged, so that there’s no longer the awkward situation of having Competition titles being classified as “out of competition.” Instead, we have the new Encounters section, with it’s own three-person jury. The Panorama section continues to highlight bold and personal world cinema, and the Forum is still a vital showcase for more experimental and aesthetically adventurous filmmaking.

As far as the official Competition titles go, I’ve been able to catch five of the six that have screened so far. The best of these, by a significant margin, has been Kelly Reichardt’s FIRST COW, a gently heartbreaking tale of two men (John Magaro and Orion Lee) who live on the outskirts of a fort in nineteenth century Oregon. When a new cow enters the community, the two budding entrepreneurs hatch an idea that involves secretly using the cow’s milk to bake and sell goods, which will hopefully earn them enough money to get to San Francisco.

It’s been nearly fifteen years since her breakout film, OLD JOY, but Reichardt continues to prove herself masterful at revealing the subtle dynamics of male relationships. And not unlike her 2008 film, WENDY & LUCY, she also continues to show that she can kill you softly with her love for characters that have the odds stacked squarely against them.

I also found director Natalia Meta’s EL PRÓFUGO (THE INTRUDER) to be a surprisingly fun psychological thriller. If you’re a fan of David Cronenberg’s work, and miss the skewed sensibility he brings to genre films, you may find that EL PROFUGO does a fine job of scratching that itch. The movie stars Érica Rivas as a singer and voice-over artist who may or may not be dealing with extradimensional “intruders” that enter our world through dreams and infect our bodies. Rivas’s captivating performance is reason enough to catch this one. Plus, the ending is a helluva kicker.

Less captivating was Giorgio Diritti’s VOLEVO NASCONDERMI (HIDDEN AWAY), which gives us a look at the life of early twentieth century artist Antonio Ligabue, who settled in Italy after being exiled from Switzerland due to mental illness. The movie is beautifully shot, and we could use more movies about outsider artists, but this one never really finds much to say about art or mental illness.

In the role of the volatile Ligabue, Elio Germano’s acting is turned up to 11 at all times, making it all rather exhausting (yet appealing to the jury, who awarded Germano the Silver Bear for Best Actor) even though the film never really takes us anywhere. Yet I’ll take HIDDEN AWAY over LE SEL DES LARMES (THE SALT OF TEARS), the latest from director Philippe Garrel. If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like if Truffaut had directed a feature length perfume ad, look no further. I honestly don’t know why this movie exists, other than as a chance for Garrel to film gratuitous (yet black & white, so, arty!) shots of young women taking showers or stepping out of bathtubs. The premise, of a ridiculously handsome man caught between three ridiculously pretty women, is literally laughable — in that one significant dramatic development was so obvious and unoriginal that it elicited a hearty round of guffaws.

But mostly this movie just made me angry. Even the impeccable black & white cinematography felt phoney, and as a story it is exceedingly stiff and boring. There is one moment when the movie tries to come alive with a bit of choreographed dance, but this is also painfully strained and far too little too late. It doesn’t help that the dance sequence is immediately followed up by a back-alley attempt at relevance that is so hamfisted it bypasses laughable and goes straight to depressing. When critics complain about pretentious bourgeois drivel, THE SALT OF TEARS is what they’re talking about. What purpose this movie could serve is beyond me.

Far more successful is the much anticipated new film from Christian Petzold, UNDINE. This one is, perhaps unsurprisingly, another twisty and enigmatic story from Petzold, whose last two films, PHOENIX and TRANSIT, have positioned him as both an heir to Hitchcock and an international sensation with the critics. UNDINE doesn’t disappoint. It’s refreshingly unpredictable and leaves you with an intricately rendered puzzle to play with, even though its pleasures are perhaps less immediate than Petzold’s previous two.

The story is of the tragic romance variety, between the historian Undine (Paula Beer, winner of the Silver Bear for Best Actress), who lectures on Berlin’s architectural and city-planning history, and an industrial diver Christoph (Franz Rogowski), who repairs the city’s underwater infrastructure. Early on, Christoph takes Undine for a dive in the river and shows us that her name is written on an old wall, perhaps put there a hundred years ago. There are many questions about the mysterious Undine and very little in the way of definitive answers. Nevertheless, as timeless love stories go, this one is pretty satisfying and it is fun to come up with your own theories on Undine’s backstory. My guess is that UNDINE will continue to deepen and reveal itself with repeat viewings.

Berlinale 70 — CB Dispatch II (Siberia, My Little Sister, Hope, Berlin Alexanderplatz, The Woman Who Ran)

There’s only a couple of days left for premiers in the Competition section, while in just the last few days nine films have been screened for critics. I haven’t yet had a chance to catch all of them (there are other sections that demand attention, after all), but I’ll share some thoughts on what I have seen.

Let’s start with one of the more divisive films of the competition, Abel Ferrara’s SIBERIA. The movie starts with Ferrara’s go-to leading man of the past decade, Willem Dafoe, tending bar out in the middle of some snowy wilderness. (His isolated tavern makes Minnie’s Haberdashery look like Cheers.) But we soon realize that nothing in SIBERIA should be taken too literally. What we’re really witnessing is Dafoe’s character, Clint, navigating his way through an emotional Siberia. The basement of the tavern contains nightmarish visions, a biter alter ego, and a bottomless pit of despair. So Clint sets out on his dog sled and begins to confront memories of his father, mother, ex-wife and his own childhood. It’s a heady trip, to say the least, but I found it to be rather fascinating and, at times, disarmingly funny -- not to mention beautifully shot.

I wasn’t expecting Ferrara to suddenly come out with his ERASERHEAD at this stage in his long and storied career, but I'll celebrate it as a minor miracle that this oddity managed to be made and released. One critic has dismissed it as “commercially irresponsible,” to which I say, Amen! Ferrara appears to be exercising his own demons in SIBERIA and I take it as a positive sign that something so personal, artistic, and in defiance of current trends, is being screened at Berlinale -- in the Competition section no less! Long live cinema.

Meanwhile, two more German films have premiered: SCHWESTERLEIN (MY LITTLE SISTER), by Stephanie Chaut and Veronique Reymond, and a new take on BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ by director Burhan Qurbani. SCHWESTERLEIN features two of Germany’s brightest stars: Nina Hoss (a regular in Christian Petzold’s films) and Lars Eidinger (who can be seen in “Babylon Berlin” and some of Oliver Assayas’s recent films). Both of the leads offer strong performances, playing twins who are coping with the fact that Eidinger’s Sven has cancer and may not have long to live.

Unfortunately, SCHWESTERLEIN doesn’t offer much more than a few choice scenes for the actors to dig into. The film's shortcomings are especially apparent since this year’s Berlinale also features a Norwegian cancer drama HÅP (HOPE), playing in the Panorama section, that digs much deeper into the relationship and familial challenges that come with receiving a cancer diagnosis. As good as Hoss and Eidinger are, I preferred the more complex dynamics between HÅP’s unmarried couple, brilliantly played by Andrea Bræin Hovig and Stellan Skarsgård.

Far more surprising is Burhan Qurbani’s BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ, which revises the original 1929 story to the modern day, making the central character a refugee, instead of a German man emerging from a long jail sentence. Cinephiliacs will likely be familiar with Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s monumental 15-plus hour television epic, and Günter Lamprecht’s central performance as Franz Biberkopf. This time we have Francis (Welket Bungue), a West African refugee, who gets roped into selling drugs in a Berlin park by the low-level criminal Reinhold (Albrecht Schuh). Eventually, Reinhold does rechristen Francis as a proper German with a proper German name, Franz.

Despite the unenviable task of being compared to one of Fassbinder’s major works, this three-hour modern retelling is bold, ambitious, well-written, well-acted and visually interesting. Schuh’s version of Reinhold starts off distractingly indebted to Joaquin Phoenix (à la THE MASTER) but he manages to make the character his own and practically steal the show by the time it's over. It’s not exactly an easy movie to get through but it does feel vital and alive. There is no shortage of Berlin-based movies, but few capture the city the way this one does.

Finally, I’ll briefly mention a charming highlight of the Competition section: Hong Sangsoo’s DOMANGCHIN YEOJA (THE WOMAN WHO RAN). Fans of Sangsoo will know to expect a film that leans heavily on dialog and character development. But this one is an especially clever script that breaks the minimal-to-non-existent plot down to a few conversations between Kim Minhee’s character, Gamhee, and three other women that she encounters while on a rare break from her husband. In each conversation we gradually learn about these modern Korean women and their relationships with the men in their lives.

So far, Hong Sangsoo’s film is the only one to elicit a spontaneous round of applause from the audience. And it had to do with a particularly hilarious conversation about cats, and one of Sangsoo’s choice uses of a camera zoom in the film. Indeed, a truly memorable highlight of this year’s festival.

Berlinale 70 — CB Dispatch III (Irradiates, Sow the Wind, The Assistant, The Roads Not Taken)

The 70th edition of the Berlinale film festival wraps up this weekend, and as it always does, it ends with Sunday’s “Publikumstag,” where many of the best films from the different sections will get a final screening at venues across the city. Even after catching over twenty films this year, I’ll be trying to fill in some gaps on Saturday and Sunday as well. So I’ll offer some suggestions in the form of films I can personally vouch for, as well as a few buzz-worthy ones that I haven’t seen.

Of course, the Golden Bear for best film is being awarded on Saturday. I’m terrible at gambling, but if I had to guess which film would take the top honor, I’d go with IRRADIES (IRRADIATES), the latest art-film/documentary from Cambodian filmmaker Rithy Panh. The movie is a devastating and unflinching look at the atrocities of war in the twentieth century, specifically the mass killings that took place in Cambodia under the Khmer Rouge regime, the Holocaust of WWII, and the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

It goes without saying that this is a challenging film, but Panh is a masterful filmmaker and artist, so this isn’t your ordinary talking-head documentary. For much of the time the screen is split into a horizontal triptych -- three symmetrical sections that add to the power of the images and help draw the connections between Japan, Cambodia and Europe. There is also a haunting score and poetic voiceover work from a man and woman who sometimes seem to be communicating with one another, and other times seem to be the voice of Panh, speaking directly to the audience. This is definitely a cinematic experience you won’t soon forget, and likely a film people will be talking about for years to come.

If you’re after something less overwhelming, I also enjoyed the Italian film, SEMINA IL VENTO (SOW THE WIND), from the Panorama section. The movie, by director Danilo Caputo, is about a young woman, Nica (Yile Yara Vianello), who returns home from her studies as an agronomist, only to find that the family’s long-held olive trees are at risk of being destroyed. The problem is, an invasive insect is killing olive trees throughout the area. And while Nica’s father wants to accept government subsidy to have the trees removed, Nica wants to save the trees by finding and introducing the bug’s natural predator.

One of the most impressive things about SOW THE WIND is its sound design, particularly the very special way in which it captures the sounds of trees. There is a deep undercurrent of rural folklore and the spirit world running through the film, and it causes the softly groaning sounds of swaying trees take on new meaning. Plus, there is a very talented black bird in the film (who may or may not be the spirit of Nica’s dead grandmother) that challenges the cat in THE WOMAN WHO RAN for the festival’s best animal performance.

Also in the Panorama section is THE ASSISTANT, a film that is very much attuned to the #MeToo movement in its depiction of the everyday traumas experienced by a female assistant working at a film production company. It captures a single day in the life of Jane (Julia Garner, who you may recognize from the Netflix show “Ozarks”), as she tries to endure an increasing amount of humiliations that are sometimes subtle, and sometimes not. The film, by Kitty Green (UKRAINE IS NOT A BROTHEL), is all about the details, and there is a scene between Jane and a human resources guy that is among the more heartbreaking moments of the festival.

THE ASSISTANT was one of the films to enter Berlinale with a considerable amount of buzz from this year’s Sundance -- as was NEVER RARELY SOMETIMES ALWAYS, which is another film competing for the Golden Bear that I will finally catch up with this weekend. This one, by director Eliza Hittman (BEACH RATS), is about two teenage girls traveling from Pennsylvania to New York in order to get an abortion. From what I’ve heard, this is a powerful character study with a couple of amazing performances at its center.

Over the past week, critics have consistently mentioned NEVER RARELY SOMETIMES ALWAYS as being a favorite. But DAU. NATASHA, on the other hand, has both its champions and detractors -- yet it’s been getting enough buzz that it seems to be another top contender for the Golden Bear. This is, by all accounts, a boldly provocative work that deals with the Soviet brand of totalitarianism, its secret ambitions, and its pervasive, lingering effects. What’s more, this just happens to be one part of a project that includes the nearly six-hour art film DAU. DEGENERATSIA, which is also having its final screenings this weekend.

Finally, if you’re looking for something more mainstream (perhaps something to take mom or dad to), I enjoyed Sally Potter’s latest, THE ROADS NOT TAKEN. This stars Javier Bardem as an author in the grips of dementia, and Elle Fanning as the daughter he left behind when she was just a child. In trying to look after her ailing father, Fanning is caring for and maybe bonding with a man her mother has long written off. What’s interesting is that we’re also uncovering a mystery in Bardem’s past as his character flashes back to a couple of different points in his life, some of which cleverly parallels bits of Homer’s “Odyssey.” Ultimately, this is a brief movie that’s over in less than 90 minutes, but I found the central relationship to be rather touching (I may be a sucker for movies about kids trying to connect with their messed-up dads), and I was also impressed with Potter’s own jazzy score for the film.

Berlinale 70 — Final Thoughts (DAU. Natasha, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, Delete History, Shirley, The Trouble With Being Born)

While I didn’t catch up with all the movies I would have liked to, I did pack a significant amount into the last few days of the festival. The highlight was perhaps Effacer EFFACER L’HISTORIQUE (DELETE HISTORY), a brilliantly anarchic French comedy by Benoît Delépine and Gustave Kervern. I suppose Berlinale has a reputation for being light on comedy. Without a doubt, this year seemed especially heavyhearted — perhaps for good reason — so it is a testament to DELETE HISTORY that it crammed about four movies worth of laughs into one, and yet is also socially conscious enough to fit right in with the rest of the Competition titles.

DELETE HISTORY is almost like an old ZAZ movie (AIRPLANE!, TOP SECRET!) in that it is brazenly anti-realist and goes non-stop in its pursuit of jokes and visual gags. The slim storyline is that we’re following three people as their lives fall apart in the age of surveillance capitalism and the gig economy. Eventually they decide to track down a hacker (who lives in a wind turbine) to help them fight the power, but things of course don’t go as planned.

Yes, the film is absurd, but we are living in a completely absurd time. Throughout Berlinale I was at press screenings filled with people who found it seemingly impossible to spend 90 minutes away from their devices. These people drove me nuts, but rather than mock these people, DELETE HISTORY sympathizes with those who know they’re being trapped, exploited and dehumanized, and finally decide to opt out. At one point, one of the characters dives her car into the middle of a roundabout, climbs on top of it and screams. In fact, the whole film feels like a much needed primal scream in the face of our current absurd reality. As an added bonus the soundtrack to the film is like a greatest hits collection of Daniel Johnston songs. Yes, this movie is fucking punk rock.

There was also some dark humor to be had in SHIRLEY, a fine, bitter pill of a biopic on Shirley Jackson, the author of such macabre books as The Haunting of Hill House. SHIRLEY follows the current trend of such biopics as 3 DAYS IN QUIBERON, SEBERG and JACKIE, by wisely focusing on one particular time in the life of its subject, rather than attempting the old cradle-to-grave approach. Here it’s the time leading up to Jackson’s 1951 book Hangsaman, when the author was living in the college town of Bennington, Vermont, and was inspired by the recent disappearance of a female student.

More than anything else, SHIRLEY plays out like a riff on WHO’S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOLF, which involves a young couple getting sucked into the psychosexual dramas of a bitter middle-aged college professor and his boozy wife. This is exactly what happens here, with Jackson (a perfectly cast Elisabeth Moss) and her professor husband (Michael Shulberg) playing host to a young couple newly arrived to town. While this movie doesn’t come anywhere near Mike Nichols’s directorial debut, it' does add some interesting wrinkles about the creative process and the role codependency can play within it. Director Josephine Decker (MADELINE’S MADELINE) continues to show keen insight into the messier aspects of human creativity, and I’m hopeful this one will provide her with more opportunities to further explore these themes.

One of the films to come away with a Special Jury Award was THE TROUBLE WITH BEING BORN, which was in the new Encounters section. Directed by Sandra Wollner, this German film is indeed troubling on many levels. Expanding upon premises that have shown up in the Kubrick/Spielberg mix-up A.I., the recent “Westworld” TV show, EX MACHINA, BLADE RUNNER, and others I’m probably forgetting, THE TROUBLE WITH BEING BORN takes a disturbing look at what might happen if we replaced our lost loved ones with robots. In particular, it asks, what if the person was a dad who lost a daughter and had some seriously messed up ways of coping?

Eventually, our robot protagonist parts ways with her “dad” and finds a new home filling in for a different lost love. But, like some of the robots in “Westworld,” the robot is plagued with nagging bits of data from their past life. This is all interesting enough on paper — what was truly bugging me was that the narrative of the story was chopped and shuffled for reasons that weren’t enlightening or helpful at all. I understand that this may have been in an effort to reflect the disjointed memory of the robot, but really it just made everything needlessly muddled.

But perhaps more frustrating was the dim cinematography — which is especially befuddling since others have praised the camerawork. All I found was one dim, flatly lit scene after another. Particularly head-scratching (or eye-squinting) was a scene at dusk (or dawn?) of our pedo dad searching for his robot, and while we linger on his face all we can make out are a couple of vague shadows of a head and some tree branches. Maybe the featureless face was supposed to mean something but all I could think of is why couldn’t we get someone with a reflector board to bounce some light up into that face? There’s an ongoing problem in German cinema with movies looking like TV shows (see: SCHWESTERLEIN), and with the current trend of American TV shows being dimly lit in a mistaken effort to create “mood,” the accolades being given to THE TROUBLE BEING BORN don’t bode well.

Fortunately, the final weekend also featured two impressive and deeply impactful movies. First was DAU. NATASHA, which didn’t fail to live up to its controversial reputation. It is indeed a difficult movie to sit through, as we spend a lot of time with drunk people yelling at each other, deliberately pushing each other’s buttons, and on one occasion engage in graphic sloppy sex. This is all before the disturbing prison interrogation sequence.

Like SIBERIA and IRRADIATES, this one had a fair amount of walkouts, with one woman turning around on her way to the exit to shout, “This should be happening to him! This is 2020!” It’s an understandable statement, but one that also misses the point, I believe. Another critic complained that the movie felt like intellectual wankery — suggesting that the filmmakers knew nothing of the history of Russian prisons. But to me, it felt all too real. In my limited knowledge on the subject of Stalin-era prison interrogations, what goes down in DAU. NATASHA is relatively tame, yet accurate. To paraphrase the narrator in IRRADIATES, this is some terrible shit that happened quite recently in our history, and we shouldn’t forget about it because it’s all too likely that it could happen again (if it isn’t already).

A month after the fact, I’m still not sure if I would recommend DAU. NATASHA to anyone, but I am deeply impressed with it as a cinematic art project. In fact, I’m sad that I didn’t find the time for the six-hour DAU. DEGENERATION, which sounded like it was more outrageous and less upsetting.

My last movie at the 70th Berlinale was NEVER RARELY SOMETIMES ALWAYS, a beautiful movie that deserves every bit of praise it has been receiving (it took home this year’s Silver Bear Grand Jury Prize). With amazing performances from the two main actors Sidney Flanigan and Talia Ryder, this is realist cinema at its finest and for a good cause. It follows a high schooler, Autumn (Flanigan) and her cousin Skylar (Ryder) as they travel from small town Pennsylvania to big city New York in order to get Autumn’s unwanted pregnancy terminated.

While NRSA handles the subject matter with admirable sensitivity, it also looks at a young female friendship and life in rural America in a way few movies have. Generally speaking, I’m a bit tired of the usual brand of realism that gets shown on film, as it is often focused on familiar relationship dramas between people of a certain relatable age and income bracket. And, when these movies try to sound like “real people” talking, it’s often obnoxious or boring as hell (in its own extreme way, DAU. NATASHA revels in the tedium of realist dialog). NRSA avoids many of these pitfalls by observing people that are often dismissed and focusing more on what isn’t being said than on what’s coming out of the characters’ mouths. It’s a credit to the acting and the directing that so much of the experience of NRSA is in the silent gestures and in the heads of these characters — and there’s a lot going on there.

Until next year (fingers crossed)…

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! I’ll try to get some reviews up for the few Berlinale films that went unmentioned here (like the amazing BLOODY NOSE, EMPTY POCKETS), and for recent press screenings for films that are now caught in limbo. On the bright side, my productivity seems to have benefitted from this strangeness.

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