MR. NOBODY - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Something execrable to blame the French for

Mr. Nobody (2010)
dir. Jaco Van Dormael
Starring: Jared Leto, Diane Kruger, Linh Dan Pham and Sarah Polley

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Oh joy! Just what the world needed! More whimsy in the cinema!

For this, I blame the French.

Though the director of this godawful pastiche of science fiction, magic realism and whimsy Jaco Van Dormael is a Belgian filmmaker, let us not forget that Belgium itself borders on France and half its population, the Walloons, speak French.

As much as I'd prefer to blame the movie on the Walloons, the fact remains that this Belgian-French-German-Canadian patchwork quilt co-production has a much greater French pedigree than mere Walloonery will allow. So again, let's do the math by examining the French content of the co-production entities: half of Belgium speaks French, Belgium borders France, Germany was obsessed with occupying France and one of Canada's official languages is French.

The sum of the above is clear. We can blame the French with no guilt whatsoever.

In fact, by the end of Mr. Nobody, I was reminded of the lyrics penned by Mel Brooks and sung by the inimitable Dom De Luise in Blazing Saddles:

Throw out your hands/Stick out your tush/Hands on your hips/Give 'em a push/You'll be surprised/You're doing the French Mistake/Voila!

Yes, Voila! A French Mistake, indeed!

When this film was first released theatrically, we were inflicted, around the same time with the release of Jeunet's execrable (and French, 'natch) vat of whimsy Micmacs. Mr. Nobody, a dreadfully pretentious movie that purports to be about something, is finally so confusing and tedious, that it's ultimately not about much of anything at all. And unlike Micmacs, which at least tried (pathetically) to be funny, Mr. Nobody is mind-numbingly humourless.

That said, what might have perked things up in Mr. Nobody could have been a few digitally-rendered appearances from the late, great Chief Dan George as Old Lodge Skins from Arthur Penn's film adaptation of Little Big Man. Given the film's reliance on endless, trippy digital effects, this is not such an odd expectation, especially since our title character Mr. Nobody appears in the opening with Jared Leto (the go-to guy when Jake Gyllenhaal isn't available and, of course in Jake's case, vice-versa) in full old-man makeup, not unlike Dustin Hoffman's Jack Crabb. Being interviewed by a dweeby journalist, not unlike the one played by William Hickey in Penn's seminal 70s western, Mr. Nobody, it seems, is the oldest man alive in a dystopian future.

And boy, does he have a whopper to tell, not unlike Jack Crabb in Little Big Man.

Hell, why didn't Jaco Van Dormael go for a digital merging of Chief Dan George, Dustin Hoffman and Jared Leto in these sequences? It might have made the whole affair palatable. (Well, not really, but it would have been good for a few laughs.)

In reality, it seems Mr. Nobody is a man living in a world where everyone has become immortal except for him and he's part of some odd reality-TV death-watch because he has not succumbed to the stem-cell thing-a-muh-bobby that keeps everyone else in the film alive. He eventually begins to tell his story to the reporter and what we get is a story that gives us several versions of his life, most notably three different relationships with three women he loved, or could have loved, or should have loved (Kruger, Pham and Polley).

Or, uh, something like that. Who the fuck knows?

In his dotage and on the verge of death, he contemplates whether he made the right decisions in his life. The tale is told in triplicate and appears to be rooted in two significant moments from his childhood. This is, however, one of the film's many problems. We're shown how his life could have been when he's forced to choose between living with his mother and father when they decide to separate. We see his life with Mom and then with Dad. But as well, the other significant fork-in-the-road moment occurs when he spies three different little girls - all of whom become his wife in the different imaginings of where his life does indeed go.

Well, which is it? The first or the second? Why both? Well, because the director wanted it this way, that's why. He assumed, no doubt, that it would give him more options to deliver a "mind-blowing" series of stories.

Not content with this incongruity, Van Dormael presents the entire thing in a hodge-podge whilst tossing out teasing references to the "butterfly effect" and "quantum theory". Flash forwards, flash backs - here, there and everywhere - are all presented to be significant with a capital "S".

I was reminded, somewhat, of Kurt Vonnegut's great book (and George Roy Hill's terrific film adaptation of it) "Slaughterhouse Five" where we bounce between past, present and future. It made sense there because the central character Vonnegut creates is "unstuck in time" - a joyous and painful predicament since the character must, for an eternity, experience his birth, life and death. This fractured, intricately-etched approach to presenting the narrative was rooted strongly in the science-fiction "logic" of the piece, whereas a similar approach in Mr. Nobody is there, simply because Van Dormael wants it to be there. Even worse is that the fragmented nature of the movie seems to pull a Christopher ("One Idea") Nolan Memento reverse order to the events.

I think.

Whatever, this movie is dreadful enough without conjuring up memories of Nolan's pretentious 2000 pretence-o-rama neo-noir twaddle.

One of the more idiotic touches in Mr. Nobody is the name chosen for Mr. Nobody in his younger years which is... okay, now wait for it...Nemo.

I mean, Good God! NEMO!!!??? Is writer-director Jaco Van Dormael on crack? Does he really expect us all to "ooohhh" and "aaaahhh" over the apparent genius and GREAT SIGNIFICANCE of naming the younger version of Mr. Nobody with a word meaning "no man" or, if you will, "no one" in Latin. This reference also conjures up that of Captain Nemo in Jules Verne's "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea", but I suspect Von Dormael was more inspired by the dark fairytale qualities of the brilliant turn of the century comic strip "Little Nemo in Slumberland". If only Mr. Nobody proved to be as significant and original as that work.

It's not.

Mr. Nobody is one of those boneheaded exercises that pretends to be more intelligent than it is. Von Dormael, no doubt, believes in his "genius" and so do the audiences that smugly believe they're watching great art. They can be dazzled by the striking visuals and non-linear quality in order to feel good that what they're indulging in is not a machine-tooled Hollywood blockbuster from Michael Bay.

Van Dormael has created the greatest aesthetic crime - far greater than anything Michael Bay has foisted upon us - he's machine-tooled an art film for dummies.

There's not much to recommend here. However, poor Leto does what he can with the ludicrous role foisted upon him and the movie does feature a great performance from Sarah Polley as one of Nemo's wives. Playing a bi-polar housewife, Polley takes the kind of chances and delivers the kind of performance that proves once again why she's one of the world's great actresses. She's raw and real, unlike the rest of Van Dormael's candy-floss "complexity". But seeing as Polley also appears in Vincenzo Natali's terrific 2009 Splice, you're better off seeing that. You get a great Sarah Polley performance in a movie that respects its audience and manages to serve up something that's as entertaining as it is intelligent.

All that Mr. Nobody serves up, is the pathetic work of one pretentious, overrated, talentless hack:

Jaco Van Dormael.

He's the real Mr. Nobody.

THE FILM CORNER'S LOWEST RATING:
THE TURD DISCOVERED BEHIND HARRY'S
CHAR-BROIL & DINING LOUNGE
Click HERE for a full explanation of this woeful rating.

Mr. Nobody is available on Magnolia Home Entertainment Blu-Ray and DVD. And get this, it's available separately as an EXTENDED director's cut for all those who might enjoy some cinematic self-flagellation.

TWO DAYS ONE NIGHT - Film Corner Criterion Blu-Ray Review By Thomas Zachary Toles

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about Thomas Zachary Toles

Two Days, One Night (2014)
Dir. Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne
Starring: Marion Cotillard, Fabrizio Rongione, Timur Magomedgadzhiev, Pili Groyne, Simon Caudry, Catherine Salée, Baptiste Sornin, Alain Eloy, Myriem Akheddiou, Fabienne Sciascia, Hicham Slaoui

Film Corner Guest Review
By Thomas Zachary Toles

Unembellished Beauty in Two Days, One Night

In Two Days, One Night (Deux jours, une nuit), the Dardenne brothers wield their harsh naturalistic style to position viewers amidst the often humiliating anguish of financially strained working class life. Yet, through the pain, a sensitive humanistic viewpoint emerges. The numerous figures who populate the story are not romantic evocations of poverty nor are there any cane-twirling villains. The film is a gorgeous series of vulnerable conversations in understatedly dire circumstances. The Dardennes create stunning tension by pitting the ordinary there-ness of its characters against the prodigious capitalist forces surrounding and constricting them.

After Sandra (Marion Cotillard) suffers a nervous breakdown, her not-so-sunny coworkers at the solar panel factory learn that they will each receive a €1000 bonus if she is made redundant. The whole affair is put to a depraved vote, leaving Sandra with two days and one night to beg each of her colleagues to put her above themselves. Sandra methodically approaches as many of her coworkers as she can reach, finding some understanding, some fearful, others furious. She, and the filmmakers, are keenly aware of the emotional power of a face, up close and personal. Sandra’s goal is not so much to make a complex argument as to bare her pathetic humanity to those who have plenty to gain by ignoring it.

I typically expect to like Cotillard more than I do. In James Gray’s The Immigrant, I found her unable to rise above the sanctimonious suffering of the character as written. With the Dardennes, however, Cotillard seems unflinchingly exposed, internalizing her character’s intermittent ugliness. Her strength is impressive without revelling in the glory of “I-am-victim-hear-me-roar.” The rest of the actors all pull their weight to fill the drab, industrial landscape with a careworn community.

Sandra’s biggest obstacle, larger than her depressive anxiety and medication dependence, is shame. And while the filmmakers are sympathetic to her desperate mission, they are equally careful to imbue each of her targets with their fair share of desperate humanity. With each rejection Sandra faces, she and the viewer are painfully reminded of the costs of her victory. Even the true hard asses, as Renoir put it, have their reasons—no relationship in the film is shallow.

Even the seemingly inexhaustible support of Manu (Fabrizio Rongione), Sandra’s husband, is undercut by Sandra’s suggestion that he no longer loves her. The film leaves it ambiguous whether Sandra’s assessment is a purely deluded symptom of her misery or if Manu’s efforts are fuelled more by pity than affection. His uncompromising aid keeps her going but it is possible that Manu, on some level, views her employment as a guilt-cleansing prerequisite for their future separation.

In many ways, the film is a hate letter to the capitalist system that makes its premise possible. The situation will be settled by twisted democracy, a practice that seems far more barbaric than it is typically regarded. To maintain the mediocre status quo at work, more than half of the employees must choose to vote against their own self-interest on a piece of paper marked either “Sandra” or “Bonus.” It is no surprise that many have trouble empathizing. Even if Sandra wins, those who saw their bonuses as essential may not soon forget what she took from them. In the end, Sandra is presented with a prototypical paradox of capitalist reasoning.

Yet, despite the bleak scenario, the film is not bereft of hope. It insists upon the importance of fellowship in impossible circumstances. When Sandra’s pleas meet an understanding ear, the faint burst of buoyancy is palpable. In one scene, after she has interrupted Timur’s (Timur Magomedgadzhiev) soccer to wearily recite her petition, his apologetic collapse restores some bewildered life to Sandra’s features.

The monumental emotional payoff of the film’s final scenes is made possible by the Dardennes’ patient pacing. We are forced to fully experience the arduousness and excess of Sandra’s journey, rendering the seemingly brief period described in the film’s title as both fleeting and endless.

Over the course of that weekend, the filmmakers present numerous characters honestly and delicately. One by one, we are gently acquainted with different voices, postures, mannerisms. Each figure independently may not leave an immediate impression. But at the end of the film, when Sandra sees the now familiar faces who voted for her gathered together in a single room, the sheer humanity on display is overwhelming. The frame is simply saturated with personhood, bursting at the seams with prosaic beauty.

My chest tightened; I could hardly bear to look.

Therein, in the unembellished revelation of people as they are, lies one of cinema’s greatest gifts.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *****

Two Days, One Night will be released 8/25/15 on Blu-Ray and DVD via the Criterion Collection with a new 2K digital master, supervised by director of photography Alain Marcoen and approved by directors Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, with 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack on the Blu-ray. Added value supplements include new interviews with the Dardennes and actors Marion Cotillard and Fabrizio Rongione, When Léon M.’s Boat Went Down the Meuse for the First Time (1979), a forty-minute documentary by the Dardennes, featuring a new introduction by the directors, a new tour of the film’s key locations with the directors, To Be an I, a new video essay by critic Kent Jones, the trailer, an essay by critic Girish Shambu and new cover design by Eric Skillman.

Feel free to purchase directly from the following links and support the ongoing maintenance of The Film Corner.

In Canada, purchase HERE
In the USA, purchase HERE
In the UK, purchase HERE

THE KID WITH A BIKE - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne deliver another harrowing cinematic plunge into ultra-neo-realism and it's now available to us as an exquisite new Director-Approved Criterion Collection Blu-Ray Special Edition

Cécile De France and Thomas Doret

The Kid with a Bike (2011) ****
dir. Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardennes
Starring: Thomas Doret, Cécile De France, Jérémie Renier, Egon Di Mateo

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Nobody makes movies like Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardennes. One picture after another - stripped bare of overt sentimentality - and yet always packing the sort of emotional wallops seldom attained in contemporary cinema. Their camera is both an observer and participant in the dramatic action - sometimes separately and often in complete harmony. The tales are simple - in a sense, almost conventional - yet you always feel you're watching a new take on the human condition. And the performances - always raw and real - which is why the heartache their work engenders hits you where it hurts the most.

The Kid With A Bike is ultimately no exception, though it has the distinction of feeling far more hopeful than one would expect given its harrowing depiction of a childhood sullied by paternal rejection. 12-year-old Cyril (Thomas Doret) has been abandoned by his father in a state orphanage. The child refuses to believe he'll never see his Dad again. More importantly, Dad promised to buy him a bike and he's insistent the promise was real and that everything is in its proper place, including his Dad. The orphanage officials assure him that his father no longer lives at his last known address and that they cannot find him.

Cyril still exists in a state of innocence pure enough to discount what he's told. He must find out for himself what the truth is behind his father's absence and the whereabouts of his bike. Escaping the clutches of his charges, Cyril heads out to his Dad's last known address and discovers a truth too hard for him to believe. This child is now potentially on the verge of accepting that he is truly alone and that the love and nurturing he expects from his father will simply never come to any realistic fruition.

The Dardennes Brothers plunge us into a number of twists and turns in his life where hope gives way to disappointment in light of what he discovers. In spite of the hard knocks he experiences, a very unlikely salvation is just around the corner - salvation that he literally runs into. Luckily, his potential salvation, a beautiful, but emotionally distant hairdresser Samantha (Cécile de France) is also alone. Not literally, mind you - she has a significant other, but her eventual devotion to Cyril far exceeds what she can give to another and Cyril is just what she needs to love right now.

Alas, for a confused, emotionally traumatized little boy, the temptations of the outside world include the need to be accepted by peers - many of whom are petty criminals and looking for boys like him to use, exploit, then abandon. If there is a fear the Dardennes Brothers focus on it's the emotional holes in the disenfranchised that force them to fill in the gaps with the sort of short term gain that leads to so many children turning into statistics that nobody would wish upon anyone in the formative years of their life.

And there is the bike of the film's title - representing flight and freedom to be sure, but also mobility, possession and a mode of transport that can choose one of two paths; happiness or despair.

The Dardennes Brothers are Masters of Despair, but as such, they're also the Masters of Hope. The Kid With A Bike provides many ways out for young Cyril, but the endless, frustrating conflict is which fork in the road he'll take. Most importantly, it's Cyril's journey in the process of choosing that keeps us glued to the screen.

Childhood is where it all begins. Damage done in this period of innocence becomes all too great a hurdle and the genuine power of this film is seeing Cyril's attempts to surmount the heights inflicted by "damage", but also finding ways to accept the unconditional love of a stranger - a love that might well go a long way to creating a child who will eventually become a man and one who is able to shed the layers of dead flesh that have accumulated in a short life of suffering. Alas, in childhood, things move very slowly, so no matter how short the proceedings are, a month of suffering can feel like years and in turn add so many more years of bad decisions and ultimately, regret.

Again, another great work from these treasures to the art of cinema and one that is not to be missed.

"The Kid With a Bike" is available on a Director Approved Criterion Collection Special Edition Blu-Ray (or if you must, DVD) with an exquisite 2K digital transfer, supervised by director of photography Alain Marcoen, a conversation between film critic Kent Jones and directors Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, interviews with actors Cécile de France and Thomas Doret, "Return to Seraing", a half-hour documentary where the Dardennes revisit five locations from the film, the trailer and a lovely booklet featuring an essay by critic Geoff Andrew.

BULLHEAD (RUNDSKOP) - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Staggering Belgian crime melodrama: Absolute MUST-SEE - Opens Theatrically in UK & available in North America on BLU-RAY & DVD

Bullhead (Rundskop) dir. Michael R. Roskam (2011)

Starring: Matthias Schoenaerts, Jeroen Perceval, Jeanne Dandoy

****

Review By Greg Klymkiw

It's all about meat.

Then again, why wouldn’t it be?

Michael R. Roskam's unique and harrowing crime melodrama Bullhead is a dark, classic tale of friendship and betrayal against one of the most original backdrops ever utilized in a gangster picture. Hallmarks of the genre – double crosses, filthy brute force, intimidation of the worst kind and Goodfellas-styled hoods are transplanted into the roles of two-fisted laconic farmers, veterinarians and feed suppliers.

In Belgium, no less.

It's film noir crossed with a sprawling, operatic, Visconti-like virtuosity, yet tinged with the earthy stench of cow shit mixed with the sour metallic odour of blood.

Witness:

A super-buff stud works out maniacally in the dark after plunging steroids into his firm, sleek buttocks.

A cow's belly is sliced open without painkiller - whereupon, a pair of huge, powerful hands rip a calf from within and deposit the dazed newborn covered with glistening viscera into a filthy metal tub.

A brick is lifted high in the air - seemingly trying to touch the heavens before it is slammed down repeatedly to smash a pair of testicles to a pulp.

An ecstasy-and-booze-filled ladies man is dragged out of the glare of a lone street lamp and hauled into the shadows of night where he's so viciously beaten that he'll live his life as a vegetable.

Covert dinner meetings between thugs - fuelled by booze and sumptuously-prepared steaks - occur surreptitiously on farms, in barns and within feed warehouses. Deals, deliveries and alliances are discussed as forks and knives dig savagely into slabs of meat on platters garnished with little more than boiled potatoes - soaking up pools of blood and fat that ooze from the steroid-enhanced comestibles.

Bucolic Belgian farmlands at dusk and twilight mask an evil criminal world of organized steroid users and purveyors - peddling livestock pumped to the max with growth-and-fat-enhancing drugs.

This is one great and original gangster picture. From the innocence of childhood to the corruption-tarnished cusp between youth and middle age, writer-director Michael R. Roskam charts the friendship between Jacky (Matthias Schoenaerts) and Diederik (Jeroen Perceval). As kids they are groomed for a life in illicit meat manufacturing and their lives are as inextricably linked as they are estranged after an early tragedy results in a dizzying criminal ascension and a downward-spiralling fate.

Roskam's screenplay brilliantly lays out a myriad of crooked relationships, complex and virtually impenetrable "business deals" and friendships that are as intense as they are fraught with guilt mixed with immoral layers. The ins and outs of the "mysteries" become as obtuse as those in The Big Sleep. At times, we think we have a grasp on what's happening, but the layers of plot are ultimately too thick to follow. It almost doesn't matter. What we know for certain is that bad shit is coming down. That's all we really need to know.

Through it all is the staggering performance of Matthias Schoenaerts - brooding, physical and steeped in humanity. His eyes are extraordinary - shifting in one moment from soulful to dead like a shark.

Roskam's mise-en-scene is first rate. His compositions are painterly and the cinematography manages to capture a sense of dreariness so that it's positively exciting - etching night exteriors like masterly impressionist paintings and dramatic picture compositions that are as thrilling as they're simplistically evocative in terms of both spatial geography and the ever-shifting dynamics of the characters.

The pace is out of this world. It's not machine-gun-like in any way, but weirdly evokes the country life - it's slow, but never lugubrious. Roskam hooks us like a Master and leads us where he needs to and wants to - on HIS terms and those that the story demands.

Early in the film, we hear a life manifesto that boils down to one thing - everything is fucked.

And so it is in Bullhead. It's gloriously, deliriously and viciously fucked - an amoral, cynical, nihilistic and narcissistic 70s style of nastiness brought miraculously to life in a contemporary world of cow shit and gangsters.

We even get some redemption, but a steep price is paid for it.

As it should be.

"Bullhead" is opening theatrically in the UK and is available on Blu-Ray and DVD in North American via Drafthouse Films. It played in Canada at Inside Out Toronto LGBT Film Festival 2012. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ORDER DIRECTLY FROM THE AMAZON LINKS BELOW AND ASSIST IN THE MAINTENANCE OF THIS SITE.

ROSETTA, a masterpiece by the Dardenne Brothers - Reviewed By Greg Klymkiw - Criterion Collection Blu-Ray and DVD

ROSETTA is the shattering portrait of a young girl who will go to any lengths to secure and keep her job in a world where the poor are disposable commodities. Thirteen years after its initial release, the film is as relevant to conditions that continue to plague the world today (and which seem to have no end in sight). It is, without question, a masterpiece, confirming the Dardenne Brothers as the leading cinematic voice of the disenfranchised.

Rosetta (1999) *****
dir. Luc Dardenne, Jean-Pierre Dardenne
Starring: Emilie Dequenne, Fabrizio Rongione, Anne Yernaux, Olivier Gourmet

Review By Greg Klymkiw

"Your name is Rosetta. My name is Rosetta. You found a job. I found a job. You've got a friend. I've got a friend. You have a normal life. I have a normal life. You won't fall in a rut. I won't fall in a rut. Good night. Good night." -- Rosetta (1999)

Rosetta (Emilie Dequenne) doesn't know the meaning of the word "privilege" and worst of all, if she's ever experienced love, it's not even a fleeting memory. It's been erased by years of poverty, abuse and neglect. She's 15-years-old, lives in a squalid trailer park with her slovenly alcoholic mother and holds down a job in a bakery to raise enough money to leave home and live her own life. She works herself to the bone for slave wages. Being underage allows her to be legally exploited by employers.

"Privilege" should, frankly, be a dirty word. Not much of consequence can really come from it and so often it leads to the exploitation and/or abandonment of those bereft of it. If "privilege" was part of her vocabulary, Rosetta would definitely foist it as a salty epithet.

She loses her job at the bakery - not because she isn't a good worker, but because her employer uses his prerogative to indulge in some nepotism to replace her.

She's back to square one. Her Mom is fed copious amounts of booze by the scumbag who runs the trailer park in exchange for sexual favours.

Things are definitely not looking up.

We are, of course, watching a movie by the Dardenne Brothers. And if the subject matter wasn't enough to tip us off, their unique verité approach to cinematic storytelling is the clincher.

The Brothers not only retain the effective point of view they employed in La Promesse, they up the ante bigtime. The camera is ALWAYS with Rosetta, but she's such a bundle of action and forward movement that we are, more often than not, following her (an approach Darren Aronofsky has successfully borrowed - most notably in his exquisite The Wrestler).

Not only is the camera following Rosetta, but very often, it (very intentionally) has a hard time keeping up with her. She's usually and literally a few steps ahead of us. Again and effectively, the Dardennes continue the technique of placing us within the central character's point of view that they so astonishingly handled in La Promesse.

Being just behind her adds tremendously to the realist conceit that allows us to discover the story with her. Curiously, when the camera catches up to her or is in close on the action, it's perched just above the shoulder near her head. It alternately establishes intimacy and urgency.

This consistency to the mise-en-scene is ideal in the telling of a very harrowing story. This is a child who is so desperate to work that she is capable of doing anything and everything to get and/or keep a job. Though one of her actions is borderline nasty, we always empathize with both her plight and actions.

For me, one of the fascinating choices the Dardenne Brothers made is in choosing the name Rosetta for our main character. It's primarily an Italian name given to women and translates as "beautiful rose".

There's no doubting the girl next door beauty of actress Emilie Dequenne (who plays the title character and also won the Best Actress Award at the Cannes Film Festival) and roses, in and of themselves are not only imbued with beauty, but most varieties have prickly stalks that protect them from being easily plucked. A number of varieties have such tight petals that it's virtually impossible to get at the rose hips - if, in fact, any actually exist.

And, of course, Rosetta is very closed off - both inscrutable and impenetrable. When she actually allows someone into her life, we're happy for her, but when she does something to remove this person from her life, we feel deflated (on one hand), but completely understanding (on the other).

Self-preservation does indeed drive her, but it's not the selfish variety displayed by Igor's father in the Dardennes' La Promesse. This is a child who seeks solace in both work and what work provides - a basic living, and one that is going to be sadly solitary, but at least on her own terms.

Rosetta is also another interesting choice for a name since it is a word used to describe a very specific orbit in space - one that seems so similar to how Rosetta moves as a character - especially when in peril or distress.

The Rosetta Orbit is when a particle revolves around the opening to a Black Hole - getting close, but never being completely sucked in. It's as if the orbit is responsible for near-suction and salvation. (If anyone had a Spirograph as a kid, the Rosetta orbit is similar to the sort of movement patterns created when a point in a circle revolves within another at a fixed point.)

When Rosetta is in distress she becomes extremely physical and never stops moving - so much like a Rosetta Orbit, it seems impossible to think this was not an intentional subtext on behalf of the Dardenne Brothers.

Finally, this is what makes the Dardennes so unique in contemporary cinema. Every move, every beat, every breath is infused with intent, but never, ever does it seem like they're overtly forcing the action. Rosetta is our way in and out of this extraordinary and quite perfect film.

It is, however, her indelible character who finally makes all the decisions and we discover them, whether we like them or not, when she does.

Rosetta is, like many of the disenfranchised of our world, ready to plunge into an abyss, but is saved by her clinging onto BASIC hopes and dreams - oscillating in a hypotrochoidal pattern with the Dardenne Brothers clinging to her with their lens. They observe her, almost macroscopically - as if her life, her state of being was a form of quantum mechanical existence.

Is the fate of Rosetta, and all those like her, to oscillate forever, just beyond a Black Hole? The humanity of the Dardenne Brothers and this tremendously moving film suggests otherwise. At least, that's what WE want it to suggest.

"Rosetta" is available in a brand new Director-Approved Special Edition Blu-Ray from the visionary Criterion Collection. It features a sumptuous restored high-def digital transfer that director of photography Alain Marcoen supervised, an interview between film critic Scott Foundas (who, not unlike the disc of "La Promesse", delivers his questions in a manner that feels too rarefied) and the directors Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne (who provide lengthy, informative and frankly, inspiring responses). There's also an interview with actors Emilie Dequenne and Olivier Gourmet, a trailer, a brand new English subtitle translation and an essay by film critic Kent Jones. This one's another Criterion Collection keeper.

LA PROMESSE - Reviewed By Greg Klymkiw - The Criterion Collection Blu-Ray and DVD

The Dardenne Brothers exploded onto the scene with the moving realist drama "La Promesse", providing a kind of quiet revolution within the art of cinema. Their style has inspired many, but they're ultimately several notches above the best of the best with their unique brand of humanist storytelling.

La Promesse (1996) *****
dir. Luc Dardenne, Jean-Pierre Dardenne
Starring: Jérémie Renier, Olivier Gourmet, Assita Ouédraogo, Rasmane Ouédraogo

Review By Greg Klymkiw

To think of human behaviour in strictly genetic terms would completely ignore the notion of tabula rasa (a blank slate), wherein the primary influence upon mankind is not nature, but nurture. In La Promesse, the groundbreaking film by the Dardenne Brothers, we see nurture at work, but ultimately, it is nature which opens the door to redemption in this powerful story of a young man who allows that which resides within his very being to engage in a struggle with outside forces that seek to mould him into something he shouldn't be.

Igor (Jérémie Renier) is a young teen raised by Roger (Olivier Gourmet), a single Dad who has brought his son into a lucrative, though sleazy business. Igor is a smart kid and learns fast. He's an invaluable assistant to his Dad and takes to the job with a reasonable degree of zeal. That said, he picks and chooses when to be as zealous as his father.

At play, Roger seems like he's a pretty good Dad. He's got a good sense of humour and seems to love his son. At work - which sadly, is almost all the time, Roger is not unlike a monster. What shreds of humanity he might have ever had are stifled (if not completely eradicated) by a world that allows his innate sense of exploitation and just-plain-meanness to rise ever-so pervasively.

The style employed by the Dardenne Brothers allows us to feel, or at least hope, that this single father once had something resembling a soul. The directors do not shy away from the fact that it's a dirty, despicable world that provides certain "opportunities" to people like Roger. He clearly chose the wrong fork in the road to ply his talents rather than putting them to use in ways that could help the world. Alas, the business Roger has chosen to work in requires a thick enough skin to put self-preservation before any act of kindness. There's no difference, finally, between Roger and your standard variety corporate pig - save perhaps for attire and social standing. Both will never concede to any action that might result in chipping away at profit margins.

Though there are exceptions to the rule, they're extremely few and far between. At the end of the day, was there ever a time when a corporate lackey, whether a CEO, VP, Director, or a politician, whether a Mayor, Parliamentary Representative of the people or any Head of State, was anything more than a glorified version of gangsters, shysters and pimps?

For me, the eye of the Dardenne Brothers' camera almost allows for some kind of understanding of someone like Roger - a human being so low on the rung of scum-baggery that one wonders precisely what choices he really had (in direct contrast to the privilege of the more accepted scumbags in big business and politics).

"Almost", however is the key word here.

Igor, our prime vehicle into this tragic tale, is not only a good son but handles the duties his father expects of him with the sort of determination and acumen that's been drilled into him. On the surface, Igor looks to be a chip off the old block - a most worthy successor to Dad's nefarious enterprises. The worst thing Igor can do in the line of duty is display anything resembling a conscience.

When a moral sense rears its head, thrashings from Dad are sure to follow.

Right from the get-go, the Dardenne Brothers establish a superbly realized mise-en-scène. Our point of view is with Igor and the story unravels in such a way that we never know what's coming before he does. We're with him all the way. This allows us to always be with this character's inscrutable face and we experience his inner life through his actions. This, of course, is an extremely pure form of cinema - where action is the prime engine for the story and the ultimate manner in which it's told.

When the motherless Igor comes to observe the actions of Assita (Assita Ouédraogo), a beleagured illegal immigrant from Burkina Faso desperately searching for her missing husband, the observational style is truly heartbreaking. This 15-year-old boy who has never known, or has forgotten, the tender, nurturing touch of a mother, eventually eyes the actions of Assita with her baby.

It is ultimately the actions he witnesses (and those we witness from his perspective) that are the thing that inspire his true inner nature and reject the nurture of his father. It is also these maternal actions that I think are far more powerful persuaders than even his guilt over a horrendous action he's participated in with his father and a promise he's made much earlier to a dying man. They might be part of the equation, but the clincher is seeing what it's like for someone to provide love and care to a child and how, in turn, this affects the recipient of this tender nurturing.

Jérémie Renier's perfectly pitched performance blended with both the when and the how in which the Dardenne Brothers allow us to examine the face and actions of Igor are precisely what allow us to hope and/or intimate that he could, in fact, do the right thing. Most miraculous is that the screenplay is chock-full of conflicts for our central character to overcome, but that in the end, it is the inner moral conflicts that rise to the top - so extraordinarily and naturally that one realizes how damn difficult this must be to achieve and yet, how easily and fluidly these Dardenne guys make it seem. Their style is so original and consistent (while never feeling by rote) that one almost wishes every movie could be like this one (and their astounding work that followed).

That said, if every movie was like a Dardenne Brothers picture, we might, God Forbid (!!!) be salivating at the prospect of a new James Cameron, Garry Marshall or Christopher ("One Idea") Nolan movie.

Happily, we don't, we won't and we never will. At least not some of us, or as Col. Walter E. Kurtz says in Apocalypse Now, "That's my dream."

"La Promesse" is available in a brand new Director-Approved Special Edition Blu-Ray from the visionary Criterion Collection. It features a sumptuous restored high-def digital transfer that director of photography Alain Marcoen supervised, an interview between film critic Scott Foundas (whose manner of delivering a series of basic questions was a tad too precious for my tastes) and the directors Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne (who provide lengthy, informative and frankly, inspiring responses). There's also an interview with actors Jérémie Renier and Olivier Gourmet, a trailer, a brand new English subtitle translation and an essay by film critic Kent Jones. This one's a keeper. Run, do not walk to add this picture to your collection. In spite of seeing the picture many times before, I scoured this edition ravenously.

BULLHEAD (RUNDSKOP) - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Staggering Belgian crime melodrama an absolute MUST-SEE at Inside Out 2012, Toronto's LGBT Film Festival - Sunday, May 20, 9:30pm @ TIFF Bell Lightbox Cinema #1

BullHead (Rundskop) dir. Michael R. Roskam (2011)

Starring: Matthias Schoenaerts, Jeroen Perceval, Jeanne Dandoy

****

Review By Greg Klymkiw

It's all about meat.

A super-buff stud works out maniacally in the dark after plunging steroids into his firm, sleek buttocks.

A cow's belly is sliced open without painkiller - whereupon, a pair of huge, powerful hands rip a calf from within and deposit the dazed newborn covered with glistening viscera into a filthy metal tub.

A brick is lifted high in the air - seemingly trying to touch the heavens before it is slammed down repeatedly to smash a pair of testicles to a pulp.

An ecstasy-and-booze-filled ladies man is dragged out of the glare of a lone street lamp and hauled into the shadows of night where he's so viciously beaten that he'll live his life as a vegetable.

Covert dinner meetings between thugs - fuelled by booze and sumptuously-prepared steaks - occur surreptitiously on farms, in barns and within feed warehouses. Deals, deliveries and alliances are discussed as forks and knives dig savagely into slabs of meat on platters garnished with little more than boiled potatoes - soaking up pools of blood and fat that ooze from the steroid-enhanced comestibles.

Bucolic Belgian farmlands at dusk and twilight mask an evil criminal world of organized steroid users and purveyors - peddling livestock pumped to the max with growth-and-fat-enhancing drugs.

This is the strange and compelling world of Michael R. Roskam's powerful Best Foreign Language Academy Award Nominee from Beligium - the unique and harrowing crime melodrama Bull Head. It's a dark, classic tale of friendship and betrayal against one of the most original backdrops for any gangster film ever made. This world of double-crosses, filthy brute force and intimidation of the worst kind is like transplanting the gangsters of Goodfellas into the roles of two-fisted laconic farmers, veterinarians and feed suppliers - in Belgium, no less.

It's film noir crossed with a sprawling, operatic, Visconti-like virtuosity, yet tinged with the earthy stench of cow shit mixed with the sour metallic odour of blood.

This is one great and original gangster picture. From the innocence of childhood to the corruption-tarnished cusp between youth and middle age, writer-director Michael R. Roskam charts the friendship between Jacky (Matthias Schoenaerts) and Diederik (Jeroen Perceval). As kids they are groomed for a life in illicit meat manufacturing and their lives are as inextricably linked as they are estranged after an early tragedy results in a dizzying criminal ascension and a downward-spiralling fate.

Roskam's screenplay brilliantly lays out a myriad of crooked relationships, complex and virtually impenetrable "business deals" and friendships that are as intense as they are fraught with guilt mixed with immoral layers. The ins and outs of the "mysteries" become as obtuse as those in The Big Sleep. At times, we think we have a grasp on what's happening, but the layers of plot are ultimately too thick to follow. It almost doesn't matter. What we know for certain is that bad shit is coming down. That's all we really need to know.

Through it all is the staggering performance of Matthias Schoenaerts - brooding, physical and steeped in humanity. His eyes are extraordinary - shifting in one moment from soulful to dead like a shark.

Roskam's mise-en-scene is first rate. His compositions are painterly and the cinematography manages to capture a sense of dreariness so that it's positively exciting - etching night exteriors like masterly impressionist paintings and dramatic picture compositions that are as thrilling as they're simplistically evocative in terms of both spatial geography and the ever-shifting dynamics of the characters.

The pace is out of this world. It's not machine-gun-like in any way, but weirdly evokes the country life - it's slow, but never lugubrious. Roskam hooks us like a Master and leads us where he needs to and wants to - on HIS terms and those that the story demands.

Early in the film, we hear a life manifesto that boils down to one thing - everything is fucked.

And so it is in Bull Head. It's gloriously, deliriously and viciously fucked - an amoral, cynical, nihilistic and narcissistic 70s style of nastiness brought miraculously to life in a contemporary world of cow shit and gangsters.

We even get some redemption, but a steep price is paid for it.

As it should be.

"Bullhead" is playing at Inside Out Toronto LGBT Film Festival 2012. For tickets, visit the festival's website HERE