For the Victoria Film Festival, I had picked out what I thought was a slate of well-balanced films from the schedule: a depressing Mexico-Spanish movie, a depressing French movie, a depressing French-Canadian movie and... a double bill of a documentary about Filipino exploitation movies, and one of the movies that inspired it.
Tragically, circumstances aligned in such a way that I missed all the Filipino-flavoured T and A. However, I made all three of my depressing movies, so here are my quick thoughts. You might want to pop a Paxil before reading them.
Biutiful: I’m beginning to think that this movie’s director, Alejandro Gonzàlez Iàrritu, hates people. Also, truth, beauty, happiness and the simply joy of children’s laughter. The characters in Babel, Amores Perros and 21 Grams couldn’t seem to escape misery despite all their best efforts. Unsurprisingly, a movie about a career criminal dying of cancer doesn’t take a turn for the sunny either. Javier Bardem is subtle and affecting as the dying man, but both a recurring supernatural theme and an awful scene set in a strip club work against the film’s purposes. As a warning, the movie’s so unrelentingly unhappy that, in one scene, I was worried the sparkler on a birthday cake was about to explode and maim his children. Fortunately, they lived to suffer another day.
Incendies: I went in to this movie thinking it was about the Algerian War. Then I figured I was wrong and it takes place in Lebanon. Well, it turns out it wasn’t about either- the city names are fictional, if strongly inspired by Lebanon. Well, I need to brush up on my Middle Eastern history, but back to Incendies. A set of twins (played by the very unArab Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin and Maxim Gaudette) are given two letters after their mother’s death, one to be delivered to the father they thought was dead, and the other to the brother they never knew existed. What makes the movie is also what might break it, a big gut-wrencher of a twist that comes in the film’s final act. I felt like the playwright, Wajdi Mouawad, is aiming to make a point about the cyclical nature of conflict. However, that’s a pretty heavy burden to hang on a particular familial tragedy, and a tragedy that relies on a series of almost unbelievable coincidences at that. However, the actress playing the mother- Lubna Azabal- gives an amazing performance as well.
L'Illusionniste: This one comes from the same people who brought you Les Triplettes de Belleville. L’Illusioniste doesn’t quite reach that level- it lacks the foreword momentum and glorious soundtrack that made Triplettes such a treat. But it’s also developed from a script written by Jacques Tati and left unproduced at his death, so if physical humour tempered with melancholy is your bag, go for it.
My next movie might have to involve a talking dog to undo all of this mental trauma.
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