Having finiushed Emir Kusturica
Life Is a Miracle (2004), a couple of less-footage works would see the light, a segment of film and a television episode, before three years later the now-comented work would be as well finished. While the picture maintains many of the constants in the cinema of the Bosnian, it was one of which most criticism earned to the director, and certainly, although not pleasant to recognize for this writer, it is one of the less-quality films of the acclaimed director of
Underground. For the first time, always speaking from my perspective of course, we see Kusturica, whose cinema, what he represents, is overwhelmed by the way, the style in which he captures that; this last statement is something that will be detailed in later lines. The film depicts the story of a teenager, in contemporary Bosnia, who lives in a remote village, whose only inhabitants are himself, his grandfather, and the woman teacher at the local school. When the school is closed for lack of students, and grandfather convinces himself he is near death, makes the young fellow promise he will go to the city, will sell his prized cow, and get, among other things, a religious icon and a wife. The story is that, simple, similar in some respects to previous works of the director, but, again, something changes in the Balkan director cinema that makes this film probably the weakest of his creations.
From the start, as always in his films, we appreciate much of what we will see throughout the film, the bizarre occurs quickly, with so singular both awakening as having breakfast of Tsane (Uros Milovanovic). The topic, a young man whose life will experience radical change, it is not strange -
Gypsy times (1988) executed with impeccable artistic results an alike formula-, but that existential contrast, this change of life will not be represented with sublime skill and mastery. If
Arizona Dream (1992) the reason of a certain distance to usual, and certain weaknesses in the picture seemed to be blamed to the change of country and production for Kusturica, now that reason is no longer so clear, or at least seems to be nothing other than a filmmaker who seems to have lost the inspiration, that touch of magic that turns a work of art into something else, something very full of humanity, reality; that apparent loss of inspiration seems as well to presage the significant drop in productivity of the Bosnian, it almost explains this is his latest film in nearly a decade. And, as said, many, or all of his guidelines are in this film -his sharpness, humor, all attenuated-, but it feels a lack of strength between them, a lack of cohesion that in previous pictures made so compact his audiovisual and artistic proposals. This absence of amalgam makes the feature wobbling so much that the film is perceived as a parade of estrangement, of absurdities -usual by the way in the Bosnian-, but all uncoordinated, total weakness and disorder, atypical for an Emir work.
On this Kusturica feature, from the initial instants we nottice that his portraits no longer have the same strength as other times, the strength and power of his characters and situations has declined: the form, exaggerated with no moderation, exceeds and overshadows the background, which portrays itself. Now, for a filmmaker of the caliber and unique orientations as the Bosnian, is nothing unusual that the style, almost always bizarre, noisy, sleazy even, come to overshadow the story, to "mask" (as the director himself has said) the background with both colorful and alienation that almost always exceeds it, in a greater or lesser extent, depending on the palate to savor the film. On this occasion, all of that continues compliance, it is basically a picture with more of the same old Bosnian, however the bizarre and alienation reach levels which in effect accuse the hype that so willingly seem to stir at him his detractors; the force when portraying his people, his gypsies, no longer shines with so strong and determined assertiveness (and we miss so much this form of plot them). Now, since portraying much of the events in the city, away from his usual habitat, the field and those Gypsies whom he loves -and whose human drawings were so effective in other times-, the film by Kusturica seems to sink, seems to lose that link that so naturally and with so much strength filled the screen on other occasions. In the city, without its people, Kusturica style drowns, with no cohesion between his usual extravagance and those city clothes, entertainments in karaoke; they lose force his characters, a lack of rootedness to portray them is noticeable, and his film ends up becoming innocuous, weak, artificial.
A more luminous photography work actually also collaborates the final aesthetics of the picture to be founded with the general atmosphere of it, it feels lighter, more superficial, weaker and with less force than previous occasions with the director. And even music, such a key element in the Balkan other works, seems to collaborate as well with the aforementioned final product; with close-to-rock-and-pop contemporary notes, very differente sounds comparing his previous films, generates too light environment, which, added to the general weakness of the feature, ends up setting a universe without a
soul, without a genuine reality behind them, as always used to happen in his best films. This unfortunately even reaches his usual and inevitable surreal touch, this playful but powerful in other opportunities Surrealism is now badly risible when we see an individual flying through the skies for most of the film, or other one being shot, but without thereby interrupting sexual intercourse. Or, much worse, when we see a bulky subject be inflated like a balloon and then sail through the air when deflating (...). Kusturica's films, always prone to excesses, to the absurd and unreal -but somehow all arranged and, although it sounds antagonistic, with a well defined north- , had never reached these extremes. Peeps strongly that accused exaggeration, that hyperbolic caricature-building that no longer generates as much astonishment as fun, but rather strangeness to witness such exercises that approach a cartoon, a children's product. His desire for eccentricity seems to have overpassed him, and certain scenes will generate disbelief. Nobody is perfect.
Elements and political dyes can never be absent in the films of Kusturica, and again we appreciate warm winks to Bosnian old acquaintances. In his particular style, there's a sort of tribute to Russia, the proud Soviet anthem rings, amid a laughable situation with the young Tsane watching libidinously to Bosa the teacher (Ljiljana Blagojevic, beautiful and then young Dolly Bell when the director debuted) take a bath through a spotting scopes. There is also a nod to the Yankee culture, with
Taxi Driver images being witnessed, and mafioso Bajo (Predrag Manojlovic) wanting to build the Balkan twin towers; his love for football, with some joke regarding Ronaldinho, will not be absent either: it certainly is a Kusturica film, but is the
less Kusturica of his films. Manojlovic is brought back, his usual actor, and his interpretation, full of exaggerations and histrionic excesses, is one that most feeds the criticism, a source of where drink detractors. Aleksandar Bercek brings greater balance incarnating the hyperactive and false dying grandfather, while Marija Petronijevic also scores as the beautiful Jasna, the epiphanic female of Tsane. Although even "collect" elements of previous films -the turkey from
Time of the Gypsies, some melody of the same picture, usual echoes in their filmes-, this work finally can not help being a false step, a setback, as some cruelty has called it; although I do not consider this film a failure, it is definitely his least successful film, with all its gadgets and norths present, but all working with less effect than ever. Kusturica finishes his film with another element very own of him, the wedding, a double wedding, seen with the same sad result than everything else, tasteless and almost puerile, such as how the happy ending comes, as if nothing happens, as the feature itself. Yes, it is a misstep for Kusturica, but a step in false forgivable for a filmmaker who has earned surplus to be a prominent personality in the contemporary film world as he is.
Having finiushed Emir Kusturica Life Is a Miracle (2004), a couple of less-footage works would see the light, a segment of film and a television episode, before three years later the now-comented work would be as well finished. While the picture maintains many of the constants in the cinema of the Bosnian, it was one of which most criticism earned to the director, and certainly, although not pleasant to recognize for this writer, it is one of the less-quality films of the acclaimed director of Underground. For the first time, always speaking from my perspective of course, we see Kusturica, whose cinema, what he represents, is overwhelmed by the way, the style in which he captures that; this last statement is something that will be detailed in later lines. The film depicts the story of a teenager, in contemporary Bosnia, who lives in a remote village, whose only inhabitants are himself, his grandfather, and the woman teacher at the local school. When the school is closed for lack of students, and grandfather convinces himself he is near death, makes the young fellow promise he will go to the city, will sell his prized cow, and get, among other things, a religious icon and a wife. The story is that, simple, similar in some respects to previous works of the director, but, again, something changes in the Balkan director cinema that makes this film probably the weakest of his creations.
A more luminous photography work actually also collaborates the final aesthetics of the picture to be founded with the general atmosphere of it, it feels lighter, more superficial, weaker and with less force than previous occasions with the director. And even music, such a key element in the Balkan other works, seems to collaborate as well with the aforementioned final product; with close-to-rock-and-pop contemporary notes, very differente sounds comparing his previous films, generates too light environment, which, added to the general weakness of the feature, ends up setting a universe without a soul, without a genuine reality behind them, as always used to happen in his best films. This unfortunately even reaches his usual and inevitable surreal touch, this playful but powerful in other opportunities Surrealism is now badly risible when we see an individual flying through the skies for most of the film, or other one being shot, but without thereby interrupting sexual intercourse. Or, much worse, when we see a bulky subject be inflated like a balloon and then sail through the air when deflating (...). Kusturica's films, always prone to excesses, to the absurd and unreal -but somehow all arranged and, although it sounds antagonistic, with a well defined north- , had never reached these extremes. Peeps strongly that accused exaggeration, that hyperbolic caricature-building that no longer generates as much astonishment as fun, but rather strangeness to witness such exercises that approach a cartoon, a children's product. His desire for eccentricity seems to have overpassed him, and certain scenes will generate disbelief. Nobody is perfect.
Elements and political dyes can never be absent in the films of Kusturica, and again we appreciate warm winks to Bosnian old acquaintances. In his particular style, there's a sort of tribute to Russia, the proud Soviet anthem rings, amid a laughable situation with the young Tsane watching libidinously to Bosa the teacher (Ljiljana Blagojevic, beautiful and then young Dolly Bell when the director debuted) take a bath through a spotting scopes. There is also a nod to the Yankee culture, with Taxi Driver images being witnessed, and mafioso Bajo (Predrag Manojlovic) wanting to build the Balkan twin towers; his love for football, with some joke regarding Ronaldinho, will not be absent either: it certainly is a Kusturica film, but is the less Kusturica of his films. Manojlovic is brought back, his usual actor, and his interpretation, full of exaggerations and histrionic excesses, is one that most feeds the criticism, a source of where drink detractors. Aleksandar Bercek brings greater balance incarnating the hyperactive and false dying grandfather, while Marija Petronijevic also scores as the beautiful Jasna, the epiphanic female of Tsane. Although even "collect" elements of previous films -the turkey from Time of the Gypsies, some melody of the same picture, usual echoes in their filmes-, this work finally can not help being a false step, a setback, as some cruelty has called it; although I do not consider this film a failure, it is definitely his least successful film, with all its gadgets and norths present, but all working with less effect than ever. Kusturica finishes his film with another element very own of him, the wedding, a double wedding, seen with the same sad result than everything else, tasteless and almost puerile, such as how the happy ending comes, as if nothing happens, as the feature itself. Yes, it is a misstep for Kusturica, but a step in false forgivable for a filmmaker who has earned surplus to be a prominent personality in the contemporary film world as he is.
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