Neo Middle-Eastern Cinema –

Here’s another short paper I recently wrote for my Cinema Studies class. It’s my attempt to find a filmmaking aesthetic and production model  that is appropriate for the Middle East at this time – especially for new filmmakers like myself.

It still needs a little work, especially towards the end where I need to suggest concrete steps we can take as filmmakers – tell me what you think and give me any advice on how I can make it stronger:


Neo Middle-Eastern Cinema:
Filmmaking Trends and Possibilities

There’s a new crop of emerging Arab filmmakers who have taken it upon themselves to produce films in opposition to the Middle-Eastern stereotypes Hollywood has produced in the last several decades. While this is a worthy cause, the region and its people are in need of films for their own consumption. We need a cinema that acts as a mirror for the audience, a place of reflection and discussion of one’s culture, history and people. Yet is there a current model for a type of filmmaking that would satisfy these needs? As mentioned in a recent New York Times article [1], there has been a recent revival of neo-realistic films, especially in the US, that derive their strength from their intimate portraits of characters living on the periphery of society. This new generation of filmmakers remind us that the ‘small’ can be large, and the ugliness in the world can be divine.

Continue reading

Vinterberg’s “The Celebration” – more on the ‘power of relics’

Tonight in Cinema Studies we saw Thomas Vinterberg’s The Celebration, the first film that adhered to the Dogma 95 ‘vow of chastity’. Here’s the plot taken directly from Wikipedia (spoiler alert):

Respected family patriarch and businessman Helge (Henning Moritzen) is celebrating his 60th birthday at their family-run hotel. Gathered together are his loyal wife Elsa, his daughter Helene, his sons Michael (Thomas Bo Larsen) and Christian (Ulrich Thomsen), and other guests. Christian’s twin sister, Linda, had recently killed herself at the hotel.

Before the celebration dinner, Helene finds Linda’s suicide note, but hides it. Later, during dinner, Christian makes a speech to the family in which he accuses Helge of sexually abusing him and his late sister, Linda. Helge’s family and friends initially dismiss the accusations as absurd, a joke, or a figment of Christian’s imagination. During a toast, Elsa makes a series of back-handed compliments towards her children, accusing Christian of having an overactive imagination as a child, and asking him to apologize. Christian responds by accusing her of interrupting Helge during a rape. Michael ejects Christian from the hotel.

At the end of the film, Christian’s accusations are confirmed when the younger sister, Helene, reads Linda’s suicide note. Linda’s note states that she had begun to have dreams in which her father was molesting her again, which led to her suicide. Helge admits to the abuse, saying that it was all Christian was good for.

The next morning, Helge admits the abuse of his children and the destruction of his family. Michael nevertheless sends him away from the table, pointing out that he has to go so that they can have breakfast.

Right when Helene takes out the suicide note I was reminded of my post on La Notte when Lidia pulls out an old love letter from Giovanni. The power of the written word, of something physical, is so powerful it becomes a form of testimony. Despite Christian’s status as the favorite son and most dependable, his claims are questioned all throughout the film until they’re verified by his dead sister’s letter. While the short letter doesn’t delineate in graphic detail the abuse that occurred for years, unlike the videotape in Primal Fear, our imaginations are able to fill in the gaps. The letter is so potent that even the abusive father stops trying to derail the truth from getting out. We don’t dare question the voice of the dead, maybe it’s a form of tribute to them.

And yet we’re somehow aware of the gap between the relic and ‘the truth’. The monuments that ancient civilizations have left for us are not only the means by which we understand them but also how they wanted to be remembered. The details that were left out, that lie in the shadow of the past, our imaginations can only illuminate.

Another try –

I went back to my blog posts to find a more structured approach with parameters and a plan for my 698:

A starting point (individual memory),
a middle point that I wrote about last semester (National Memory)
and an attempt to put learning into practice through my current screenplay “I Dreamt of Empire”

Here’s a rough outline in terms of structure & proposed filmography:

1. Individual memory:

  • example of a protagonist trying to forget - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
  • example of a protagonist trying to remember - Memento
  • connections, differences and failures of these two protagonists’ journeys through their memories
  • examine a group of protagonists (Rashomon) that individually are able to remember what they ‘saw’ but because their memories don’t add up something is assumed missing or corrupted -

**This should dovetail with a deeper discussion of a specific type of collective memory – ‘National Memory & associated nostalgia or pain’

2. Collective memory:

  • confronting national memory & loss - Stray Dog
  • forgetting national past – ‘Still undecided Film from Fassbinder’

3. Concluding with ‘learning put into practice’:

Analysis of a Work in Progress Script ‘I Dreamt of Empire’ written by Kasem Kharsa

  • An analysis of a screenplay with such undertones of memory and memory loss, as an individual and as part of a citizen of a fallen nation, by examining a project screenplay of the writing concentration class. Connecting to the aforementioned films and techniques of storytelling

What do you think?

Polanski’s Visions of Victimhood -

While I didn’t get a chance to see Polanski’s newest film ‘Ghost Writer’ at Berlinale, I’ve been trying to read up on this eminent director’s work. Thought you might like an interesting article over at the New York Times on the parallels between Polanski’s life and filmography.

“Critics and viewers have long been tempted to link Mr. Polanski’s work to his life — to view one through the prism of the other — not least because the life has been so public and so uncommonly eventful. “There’s nothing about human nature that would surprise him,” the novelist Robert Harris, a co-writer of “The Ghost Writer,” said recently. “He’s a sort of walking microcosm of history.”

Berlinale – my game plan –

I’m going over the films I want to watch while @ the Berlin Film Festival & of course the insanely interesting list of master-classes at the Talent Campus to devise a schedule for my next couple of days.

I’m really still in awe of this journey I’m about to embark on and humbled by my lucky invitation to go as a ‘Talent’ – I know there are more deserving filmmakers out there.

With that in mind I plan on following 3 rules while I’m there:

1. To listen more than I speak.

2. To observe more than I perform.

3. To learn some German & not freeze to death in the streets of Berlin.

Wish me luck -

Antonioni’s La Notte – memory & relics of the past

The other day in Cinema Studies we watched clips from Antonioni’s La Notte. I was moved by the sense of urban malaise but what really struck a chord was the last scene at the golf course with Lidia & Giovanni. The married couple realize for a moment that they’re not happy – both as individuals or together – and maybe at the breaking point of their relationship.

Then Lidia pulls out an old love letter and reads it to her husband:

“When I awoke this morning you were still asleep…beyond your face I saw a pure, beautiful vision, showing us in the perspective of my whole life. All the years to come, even all the years past. That was the most miraculous thing; to feel, for the first time, that you had always been mine; that this night would go on forever, united with your warmth, your thought, your will…at that moment I realized how much I loved you…”

Giovanni asks who wrote it – she tells him he did. He can’t remember doing that. He can’t remember loving her so tremendously.

But he embraces and kisses her forcefully, going through the motions to rekindle the love between them. His uncertainty has been muffled by this relic of the past that proves they were once happy.

Or does it?

It was very interesting to me that in this moment of shared self-awareness on the golf course, when they’re not distracted by anyone or anything else they have no choice but to finally talk about their malaise. But a forgotten memory, a forgotten emotion, the old letter, forces them back into their roles as dissatisfied wife and husband. Was the flowery and poetic letter proof of genuine love or simply a portrait of a younger Giovanni, a crafty writer, momentarily taken over by his emotions?

We’ll never know.