06 June 2024

Battling the Man

 

TERRESTRIAL VERSES (A-minus) - This collection of simple vignettes has a quiet power as Iranians do battle with an entrenched system that leaves ordinary folks vulnerable to the religious zealots running Tehran. And power is the key word: every person depicted in each scene has to endure the humility of being less powerful than the person they are dealing with.

Filmmakers Alireza Khatami and Ali Asgari execute a simple concept: They set up the camera from the point of view of the unseen clerk or apparatchik and train it on the character who needs something and must submit to generally degrading treatment in order to accomplish a task. Long takes create a sense of dread as the scenes play out. A man wants to register his son's name as David and is rebuffed; a teenage girl is grilled by the school dean for associating with a boy on a motorcycle; a man applying for a driver's license is forced to gradually strip off his clothes to reveal his tattoos; a young woman with short hair is being questioned as a suspect in a traffic incident caught on video while she was working as a rideshare driver; a female job applicant is creeped on by a predatory old man interviewing her; and, in a meta moment, a filmmaker meets with a censor and succumbs to the censor's relentless suggestions of edits to the script.

In one of the most moving pieces, a child is the center of attention, and you cringe watching what happens to her.  A woman wrangles off-camera with a sales clerk while the woman's daughter is on camera, and we watch the girl go from dancing gaily in a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt to being gradually swathed in layers of hijab and draped cloaks -- and being drained of joy in the process.

The simplicity of the visuals and the straightforward polemic about power dynamics in a theocracy make for riveting cinema at times. It borrows more than a little from Asghar Farhadi's similar stories of bureaucratic frustrations in Iran, such as "A Separation." Each vignette clocks in just under 10 minutes, and the entire exercise comes in at 77 minutes. The film ends with an urgent heavy-metal song over the closing credits, which serves as a slap in the face to all viewers -- whether living under theocratic rule or headed toward one -- a shocking reminder that follows all of those quiet, mundane interactions. Can you empathize before it's too late?

EVIL DOES NOT EXIST (Incomplete) - I gave it a half hour. There was absolutely no plot or story during the entire first quarter of this film ostensibly about a rural Japanese town fearing the invasion of a corporate development for a "glamping" site. I saw a guy chop wood and smoke a cigarette for five minutes. I saw two men ladle water from a brook and carry the plastic jugs to their vehicle (at least a five-minute scene). Those were after the first five minutes of the movie spent on one slow-motion tracking shot with the camera pointed skyward, peering through tall, bare trees.

There was a mention of a company planning to build a site geared to yuppies who prefer glamor with their camp outings. Eventually there was a community meeting. That meeting started with the introduction of two young people who in turn introduced a film for the residents, a film that started with a slow establishing shot -- and that was the last straw.

This apparently is supposed to be a slow-burn eco-horror story. I'll take everyone's word for it. This is our second attempt to watch a film from Ryusuke Hamaguchi. The first was "Drive My Car," a three-hour trudge. We made it through two hours of that one before bailing and promising to track down the final hour another time; we never did. In "Evil," Hamaguchi simply engages in lazy visual storytelling. He spends the first half hour trying to convey the joys and critical aspects of nature all around the villagers -- their trees, their water, their wasabi plants. Most filmmakers would be able to convey that with a few shorthand shots, in about 10 minutes, before finally introducing the meat of the plot. Hamaguchi can't be bothered. This is simply flat storytelling. Life is short. Get on with it.

BONUS TRACK

The trailer for "Terrestrial Verses":


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