This is a bit unfair. The films presented here were very variable in quality, storylines and acting ability. I'm afraid that some very good films are going to be dragged down by the utter bilge that most of the films consisted of.
The bilge? Memoirs of a Geeza, Dungarees, Clothes and Blow, My Sweet Prince. Really, if you have nothing useful to say or no story to tell, just be quiet and choose another career.
The absolute rubies amongst the dross? We Are Dancers and L'Homme Jetée. I loved even the clever title of the latter - I'm a translator but I can't get the sense properly over in three words but maybe in four, "Jettisoned on the Jetty". The two protagonists were perfect. Théo shone with his desperation and Giuseppe with his beauty - no, that's wrong, it's his horniness - and disillusion.
We Are Dancers provoked real emotion. I had an inkling of the selfless act that would happen before it was made clear. I was born after the war but it was a presence in my life through my parents. The sorts of choices that had to be made in Nazi Germany would have tested anyone anywhere. Some failed their exam, some passed. I hope the guys saved by Hansi Sturm, who was a real person, emulated his bravery. As his true ending is not known to history, this was necessarily an imagining of his final days.
In between? My Dad Works the Night Shift, A Normal Guy, Pretty Boy. The latter was clichéd but acceptable. I liked A Normal Guy particularly for its reading of the situation for gay guys in Romania - casual homophobia but more or less an acceptance of other lifestyles. My Dad Works the Night Shift? A pretty erotic set of circumstances leading to a denouement that I should have seen coming - the religious are often twisted. And an affirmation that it's not always the older guy who makes the running.
If it weren't for the two jewels, this would have got a two. The other acceptable films raised this to a six. As I said right at the beginning, this is unfair on all of the films - some deserved a one and others an eight. Well we work with what we have.
The bilge? Memoirs of a Geeza, Dungarees, Clothes and Blow, My Sweet Prince. Really, if you have nothing useful to say or no story to tell, just be quiet and choose another career.
The absolute rubies amongst the dross? We Are Dancers and L'Homme Jetée. I loved even the clever title of the latter - I'm a translator but I can't get the sense properly over in three words but maybe in four, "Jettisoned on the Jetty". The two protagonists were perfect. Théo shone with his desperation and Giuseppe with his beauty - no, that's wrong, it's his horniness - and disillusion.
We Are Dancers provoked real emotion. I had an inkling of the selfless act that would happen before it was made clear. I was born after the war but it was a presence in my life through my parents. The sorts of choices that had to be made in Nazi Germany would have tested anyone anywhere. Some failed their exam, some passed. I hope the guys saved by Hansi Sturm, who was a real person, emulated his bravery. As his true ending is not known to history, this was necessarily an imagining of his final days.
In between? My Dad Works the Night Shift, A Normal Guy, Pretty Boy. The latter was clichéd but acceptable. I liked A Normal Guy particularly for its reading of the situation for gay guys in Romania - casual homophobia but more or less an acceptance of other lifestyles. My Dad Works the Night Shift? A pretty erotic set of circumstances leading to a denouement that I should have seen coming - the religious are often twisted. And an affirmation that it's not always the older guy who makes the running.
If it weren't for the two jewels, this would have got a two. The other acceptable films raised this to a six. As I said right at the beginning, this is unfair on all of the films - some deserved a one and others an eight. Well we work with what we have.
