World Cinema: Why I Love It

Despite writing for a ‘world cinema’ website, I actually really dislike the label. As far as I’m concerned, cinema is cinema regardless of which country or language it was produced in. It’s a shame that many wonderful films receive little coverage or limited releases in the United Kingdom, but I’m not sure that it’s attributable to their ‘foreign’ origins. Equally, there are numerous amazing films made at home which only ever show in art house cinemas or on limited runs. In that sense, I’m not sure that there’s a great deal of difference between Paddy Considine’s Tyrannosaur and Baran Bo Odar’s The Silence.

I love good, well-made films which challenge my conceptions, teach me something new, surprise or delight me. It seems obvious to me that movies from other continents and countries will often meet those criteria. But I don’t see ‘world cinema’ is an alternative to English language productions – it’s a supplement and a companion. I wouldn’t want to eat roast beef for every meal – but, equally, I’d get sick of paella if it was on the menu every day.

I’d love to see more people picking something different from the menu, choosing something which isn’t obvious. Often, that might be the product of another country or culture. Often it isn’t. But I’m not sure it’s anyone’s place to dictate what people ought to consume. If masses of people enjoyed Transformers or Monsters vs Aliens that’s their prerogative – and their fault. I’d rather sit in a comfortable cinema enjoying a silent Italian movie about goat-herding with a few likeminded people than endure the unbearable stench of buckets of polystyrene popcorn. But I’m perfectly happy to acknowledge that I’m in a minority – a minority I’m absolutely delighted to belong to.


First World Cinema Experience

I have absolutely no idea what the first foreign-language film I watched was. But I can pinpoint the first to have a huge effect on me: Man Bites Dog. It’s a Belgian mockumentary with a microscopic budget and a thoroughly homemade aesthetic. As a pre-digital, pre-Blair Witch production, it was one of the first times I’d ever seen fiction presented as fact – and the horrific blurring of the two was a thoroughly jarring and discomfiting experience.

The film follows a publicity-hungry serial killer as he hones his craft in front of a pair of documentary makers. The hand-held camera (and the visible presence of the crew) lends an authenticity to the gruesome proceedings which might be too much to bear but for the large injections of darkly black humour which runs throughout the film. Benoît Poelvoorde is charismatic, hilarious and frightening in the lead role, and provides numerous sound bites and quotes with which we peppered our smart-arsed student conversation as film students. We never came close to emulating it in our pathetic attempts at making our own movies – and I don’t suppose we ever will.


What’s Missing For World Cinema?

Is anything missing? I assume if you’re reading this you’re already a fan of world cinema. There are no shortage of films for you to enjoy – there’s a whole world out there producing interesting cinema for you to watch. There are websites like this one, blogs and magazines catering to your tastes. There are increasing numbers of international film festivals, you can watch movies online, download or purchase them from across the globe. The world, indeed, is your oyster.

But those outlets are preaching to the converted. What about those unaware of the delights lurking beyond their local multiplexes and rental stores? Some of them might feel that reading subtitles is hard work (it’s not), that foreign films are ‘weird’ (they often are), or maybe they just don’t know about these films (they probably don’t). So tell them.

Show them a subtitled film so they can see how easy it is to read and watch simultaneously. Educate them about how many of the ‘mainstream’ films they watch are remakes of ‘weird’ foreign flicks. Show them where and when they can see films which will never reach their local Cineworld. How many times have you recommended music, restaurants, TV shows or any number of things to your friends? Why should foreign films be any different?


What’s On Offer For World Cinema Fans?

I consider myself extremely fortunate to live in Leeds, home of the Hyde Park Picture House. It’s 100 years old, extremely comfortable, sells reasonably priced hot beverages and has an amazing programme of interesting films from across the world. I’ve attended talks with Paddy Considine and Mark Kermode recently and watched some truly brilliant films which would never have made it to my local Vue! It’s also a venue for the estimable Leeds International Film Festival – a citywide showcase of the best of international cinema which has been running for twenty-five glorious years and gets bigger and better when it takes place every November.


Favourite World Cinema Genre

I’m a sucker for a documentary and nothing has delighted me more than the recent renaissance which has taken place in the genre. Spurred by digital technology, documentary makers the world over have been able to produce a superb body of work which is inspirational and educational in equal measure. Superb productions, such as Michael Madsen’s atmospherically apocalyptic Into Eternity, Cambodian Khmer Rouge expose Enemies Of The People, and the uplifting musical tale of Staff Benda Bilili have been just a few of the highlights of the last year or so. Check them out!


Favourite World Cinema Director

If Guillermo del Toro is involved, I’m there. Whether he’s directing, producing or ‘presenting’ (whatever that means), you can be sure his name will only be associated with quality. His name on a movie poster is practically a guarantee of genuinely creepy, gothic drama which will enthral and delight – from The Devil’s Backbone to The Orphanage to the utterly amazing Pan’s Labyrinth, the Mexican rarely disappoints when he works outside of the English language – although he seems to be on less sure footing when he goes ‘Hollywood’!


Top-5 World Cinema Films

These made the top five today. Tomorrow it might be Pan’s Labyrinth, Let The Right One In, City Of God, Y Tu Mama Tambien and La Quatro Volte. It’s too hard to choose.

Amelie (France/Germany, 2001)

I could just have easily picked Delicatessen – there’s not much to choose between Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s masterpieces: the two share much of the same cast and a very similar quirky aesthetic. But whilst Delicatessen could be seen as slightly grim, Amelie is wholly heart-warming. There are not many ‘feelgood films’ which can genuinely make a misanthrope like me feel good – but this is one of them. From the sumptuous cinematography to the Yann Tiersen’s magical score, Audrey Tatou’s beguiling performance to the charming narrative, everything about this movie just feels right. As an introduction to world cinema, Amelie is absolutely perfect.

The Motorcycle Diaries (Argentina, 2004)

All heterosexual men are allowed one man crush and Gael Garcia Bernal is mine (and he actually makes a pretty attractive woman when he drags up in Pedro Almodovar’s Bad Education). The Motorcycle Diaries is arguably his finest performance – he’s completely convincing as the young Che Guevara. I first saw it in a thoroughly deserted cinema and was delighted there was nobody there to distract me from the engaging, hilarious and touching narrative. It’s a wonderful film about friendship – although the central relationship is almost overshadowed by the magnificent motorbike of the title!

The Bothersome Man (Norway/Iceland, 2006)

The first time I ever received a proper press pass I wrote a review of this film. It opens with arguably the most disgusting screen kiss of all time, features a horrific attempted suicide, and is about a dystopian society where even steaming mugs of hot chocolate have no taste at all. It’s uncomfortable viewing, at times, but a nuanced comic performance from Trond Fausa Aurvaag in the lead role lends just enough warmth and hope to proceedings to ensure the darkness isn’t too dark! Scandinavia produces loads of these quirky, original comedies – it’s only a matter of time before Hollywood realises and starts reproducing them (badly).

Battle Royale (Japan, 2000)

I work in education, so seeing a class full of children massacring each other with knives, guns and dustbin lids is a thoroughly cathartic experience. Need I say more?

The First Movie (UK/Canada, 2009)

Film is a hugely powerful medium and this is the best way I can think to illustrate the point. Filmmaker Mark Cousins travelled to Iraq to a community who had never even seen a movie and showed them classic films projected onto a bedsheet before giving them digital cameras and asking them to make their own. It’s wonderful and the films they produce are brilliant – Cousins’ soothing voiceover adds poetry and beauty to proceedings. I run a film club in my school and can only hope to have a fraction of the effect Cousins did on his little corner of Iraq. A beautiful, inspiring film.

The Bothersome Man

Urban dystopia has been a popular theme for filmmakers over the years. The Bothersome Man takes that tried, tested and clichéd formula and breathes new life into it by combining Orwellian menace with black humour – and more than a touch of Groundhog Day.

Following his apparent suicide, Andreas (Trond Fausa Aurvaag) arrives in a nameless Scandinavian city where he is employed, provided with an apartment and falls effortlessly into a relationship. Unsurprisingly, he soon realises that something is amiss: life is too easy, food is tasteless, and children are conspicuous by their absence. Worse still, booze no longer gets people drunk.

Increasingly anxious, Andreas attempts to inject some excitement into his life by embarking on an affair, before realising that his only option is to escape the homogeneity of the city. Predictably, his efforts are thwarted and hope seems lost – until he befriends Hugo (Per Schaaning). Secreted in Hugo’s cellar is a crack in the wall from which beautiful smells and music are emitted – could this be the escape route Andreas is looking for?

The film opens in a railway station with a scene of the least romantic kissing ever committed to celluloid. It’s distinctly uncomfortable watching a male and female character joylessly chewing each other’s mouths off as the sounds of their lip-smacking are amplified. So uncomfortable, in fact, that Andreas – the tension building on his face – takes the only way out. From the platform, he throws himself under the wheels of an oncoming train. It’s testament to how effective the scene is that his extreme actions seem entirely appropriate.

The film is ambiguous about exactly where Andreas wakes up. Clearly, he ought to be dead. But following a silent bus ride, and a half-hearted welcoming committee, he finds himself in an apartment which apparently belongs to him. Utterly impersonal and decorated in muted colours, it sets the tone for the rest of the unnamed city in which he finds himself. After reporting to an equally nondescript office block, he is given a vague job description, a functional office, and left to get on with it.

So, where has our protagonist found himself? There is a certain Ikea-style blandness and coolness which marks the city out as Scandinavian, but that remains the only certainty. There’s easily enough evidence to suggest that Andreas is in heaven – life is simple, everyone is provided for, and everyone has a purpose. But by the same token, a world where everything is bland and ‘pre-packaged’, detached and emotionless could well be interpreted as hell. Maybe he’s in purgatory? Or perhaps the film is an attack on modern, homogenous living? It’s a strength that events can be interpreted on so many levels so effectively.

It requires an excellent performance from Trond Fausa Aurvag to carry such ambiguity so convincingly – and he really delivers. It’s a role which requires a range of acting talents and Aurvag pulls off slapstick, hangdog, understatement and wild-eyed delight with aplomb. He carries the movie from start to finish: there’s barely a moment without his enigmatic presence.

A number of scenes are key to establishing the other-worldliness of The Bothersome Man, all of which are stylishly underplayed. The first of these occurs as suspicions begin to grow in Andreas’ mind that things are not as they seem. He subsequently severs one of his own fingers in a paper-cutting machine. Spouting blood, his colleagues seem oblivious to the harm he’s done himself – despite the fact that the scarlet blood seeping from his wound is the most colourful thing in their office.

A wonderfully matter-of-fact montage explains the story of how Andreas comes to be in a serious relationship with a woman he barely knows. Over the course of a meal in a restaurant, he flirts clumsily. This leads to a series of short scenes of perfunctory sex and dull interior décor, which perfectly illustrate the alarming ease with which such events occur in the narrative.

Thoroughly disenchanted with his ‘off-the-shelf’ life, Andreas again seeks the answer in suicide. In a revisiting of the opening scene, we again see torturous kissing and a man throwing himself in front of an oncoming train. Only this time it makes more sense – and carries an air of déjà vu. How Andreas survives this attempt is more clear cut – although no more explicable.

Perhaps liberated (or reawakened), Andreas becomes determined to get to the bottom of his predicament. His focus becomes the mysterious Hugo – a man who wears black and white shoes, grumbles vociferously whilst defecating, and lives in a cave-like cellar adorned with a sea of light bulbs. It’s a beautifully understated set, and it becomes key to the denouement of the film, as Andreas and Hugo attempt to unravel the mystery which lurks behind the magical (and peculiarly vaginal looking) crack in the basement. Here, the film seems ever more absurdist (and calls to mind Being John Malkovich) as it speeds towards its inevitable conclusion.

The Bothersome Man is an excellent film. The visuals are stylish, the performances assured and the direction skilful. It draws the viewer into a world which is indefinably strange yet utterly compelling. It adds a new twist to an old and familiar story, weaving elements familiar to the audience with imaginative new ideas to create a film worthy of the many awards it has garnered – and worthy of wider notice than it has received.