The Hunter

In The Hunter, Willem Dafoe plays a world-class game hunter who has accepted a contract to kill the world’s last surviving Tasmanian tiger.  He’s a quiet man in a quiet setting.  He walks the Tasmanian wilderness, sets traps, and tries to pick up the trail of a lonely, elusive creature.  Things get complicated because this is, after all, narrative film.  However, one gets the sense that the plot is secondary.  The film recalls the pacing and tone of Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock, and it is a film very much more about the pacing than the destination.

The pacing is .. deliberate.  We don't get to know Dafoe's hunter with an intro and a quip.  Rather, we get know him as he (re?)discovers an aspect of himself slowly, carefully.  There are few actors who can pull this off, and Dafoe is one of them.  However, The Hunter moves so slowly, so carefully, that I found it difficult to remain engaged.  The Hunter is a film for someone ready to meditate.  I, however, saw it on a computer in an airport lounge while keeping an eye on the "Delayed Departures" board.  I may be the target audience for this film, but I was not the target headspace.

So, see The Hunter if you love Dafoe.  See it if you love Australia.  But skip it if you have something else on your mind.  The Hunter is for meditation, not distraction.

A Separation

Movies like A Separation are why I love movies.

Yes, shoot-em-ups are great, and everyone loves a well-executed romantic comedy. But films like A Separation remind us what the medium can do: it can surprise, instruct, entertain. It can make us better people.

A Separation begins crisply. We're in a judge's chamber in an Iranian city. It's intimate and unintimidating, at least on its face. A man and woman sit before the judge. She wants a divorce; he does not. The couple's emigration visa has finally come through, but he has cold feet. He doesn't know who will take care of his Alzheimer's-afflicted father.

“Why,” the judge asks the woman, “are you in such a hurry to leave?”

“Because I want my daughter to have a better life.”

“Your daughter can't have a good life here in Iran?”

“Well, yes, um, of course she can.”

And here it is, right in the opening scene: the central conflict between the spouses, the everyday (and manageable) fear of living in a totalitarian state, the grinding, crushing weights of conflicting responsibilities.

As the ripples of this couple's conflict spread, many around them will be faced with difficult emotional, religious, and legal dilemmas. Their young daughter will have to make tough choices as she balances her duties to her parents with her own judgement and needs. The woman they hire to look after the father as they sort things out must face cultural and religious challenges that would never occur to a Westerner (In one poignant scene, she calls a religious adviser to ask whether it's permitted for her to change the old man's soiled clothing.). Their families, friends, and co-workers will get wrapped up in the situation. Everyone gets hurt, and it's devastating.

There's more: I don't think I will ever set foot in Iran, much less an Iranian courtroom. Even if I could, it would be as a tourist, an escorted guest. Since I don't speak Farsi, I'd never understand what people were saying and I'd never get the flavor of their experience. A Separation gives me onscreen what I could never get in real life: an empathetic, detailed sense of what it would be like to be these people in this place; to eat in their kitchens, drive their cars, and sleep in their beds. It's wonderful, if just for that opportunity.

Most importantly, A Separation is a carefully written, devastatingly performed, beautifully shot film that surprises and challenges its audience at every turn. Yes, the film is basically a domestic drama. Nevertheless, it had me biting my nails and hanging on every word. It's domestic drama, but it's also great drama, the kind of movie that makes you forget about the passage of time.

In short, A Separation earns its Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. It is a masterpiece, and not to be missed.

BKO: Bangkok Knockout

They have universal health care in Thailand, don't they?

I mean, they must. How else can one explain the utter disregard for personal safety exhibited by the cast of BKO: Bangkok Knockout? And I'm not just talking about the injuries they must have sustained while making the picture - they must have gotten on a first-name basis with their orthopedic surgeons just to get good enough at stuntwork to land their roles.

BKO: Bangkok Knockout, you see, is an extraordinary stunt picture. Though its plot is just another rehash of The Most Dangerous Game (with a whole team, as opposed to just one guy, in the crosshairs) and its acting is weak, its stunt work will remind you of the golden age of Hong Kong thrillers, when guys like Jackie Chan would stage an entire fight sequence on a moving bus crashing through a shantytown. This picture has cage fu, car fu, motorcycle fu, sword fu, chick fu, and even dude on fire swinging a burning axe fu. It's very nicely staged and photographed, with long takes and simple shots that show off the remarkable choreography of the various battles, as well as the athleticism and daring of the performers. Further, it rocks right along, with brisk pacing and just enough of a storyline to actually make you care who lives and who dies.

First credit goes to director Pana Rittikrai, who worked as the stunt coordinator on Ong Bak: Muy Thai Warrior, the action supervisor on Chocolate, and the director of Ong Bak 2 & 3.  The man has learned his craft, and he applies his lessons like a master in Bangkok Knockout.  He works with a fearless, first-rate team that literally risk life and limb to create one thrilling stunt sequence after another.  Together with the remainder of the crew, they create a film that delivers everything you could want in a Thai martial arts picture. I just hope it's cast didn't have to spend too much time recovering - I want a sequel!