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Biutiful (2010)
a morality play?
Those were the days, when in morality plays people were wearing black hats and white hats, then came Sergio Leone and put the Ugly into the center, the human nature, unstable, treacherous, weak, until black and white faded and only gray remained in Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven.
Biutiful, the latest Alejandro González Iñárritu movie is in the above context an anti-morality play, set to the bleakest possible world, or better underworld, of street crime, drugs, disease, illegal immigrants, sweat shops and lowering costs, but where the costs have distinctive human faces. The creatures that dwell at the bottom of the sea. A search for empathy, solidarity, kindness, love, seems futile in this world in which Inarritu searches for beauty.
And we have a perfect anti-hero Uxbal, a middle aged man, a former street kid, who did not move far away from where the circumstances have thrown him and also seemingly failing in everything he tries to do. He has problems connecting to his son, tries to keep his wife away from his children, he fails to protect his "client" street-peddler of counterfeit goods, a Chinese young turk is trying to replace him in his business of connecting cost-lowering sweatshop owners with people who have no better options in life and the police with its overt brutality (to which no-one objects) and covert insatiable greed. Ironically he earns additional money with (again seemingly earnestly) trying to help people (for a small fee of course) to pass into afterlife, but having problems accepting his own pending death from a prostate cancer. He is surrounded with a support cast of closet homosexual sweat-shop owner, bipolar wife, non-violent asshole brother and of course crews of illegal immigrants (if they still count as human, as for example in Children of men).
We have to give Uxbal credit for trying hard to do the right thing. He tries to help everyone the best way he can, he is trying to support his family, he is being loyal to his business partners and he treats them like partners, not like faceless numbers, he tries to help those for who we usually do not care about (even if for a commission), but he fails in practically everything.
The black street peddlers are being deported to their home countries, chines workers are dead because of cheap heaters Uxbal has bought to keep them warm in a cold cement basement. His children risk to become street kids (his own fate, he really does not want them to experience). His wife ends up in a hospital. But he manages to gather some money, to provide for his kids, all of which he leaves in hands of a woman, illegal immigrant, a wife of a deported street-peddler, no relation to him.
And there we find finally some hope, some grace, skewed beauty in this movie. Walking past the green shark composed of (pictures of) 500 bills, Ige returns to take care for Uxbal's children, passing the opportunity to return to her homeland, reunite with her man, perhaps start a business with money Uxbal has left her and most probably live a better life than the one in the portrayed Barcelona barrio.
So this cough-ball of dirt of a movie, after all the wisdom, reflection seems to be dead (I cannot find any other metaphor for a dead owl) is a morality play under all its complexity after all, the only possible for today. There were times, when there was something to fight for (or to flee from, just to die alone in a foreign country shortly afterwards, as in case of Uxbal's father) and these are times of sharks composed of 500 notes, whose bite is not apparent, but no less deadly. And here we can compare the youthful enthusiasm, hope of a better life (even elsewhere) of our fathers, with the disillusionment of today. At the end of the movie Uxbal is heading towards abyss with his young father (Smoke anyone?). So are we.
Katalin Varga (2009)
See it, if you have a chance
Just some tidbits: In an after screening q&a session the author said he wanted to originally cast the movie in Albania, where it would IMO be a good fit with the patriarch governed extended families being the dominant societal organisational form and blood line revenge a.k.a. besa still alive in rural parts of Albania and Kosovo.
But that region in the times of shooting of the film was not a particularly safe place for an itinerant cinematographer, so Hungary and Romania were chosen instead. This being perhaps fortunate for an intimate story of the film, it would be IMO hard to avoid a different political context, including war atrocities and mass rapings taking place in Kosovo at the time of shooting.
Still the Katalin's impulse, and a quick decision to search for her rapist, would be clearer in rural Albania, as within the gossip run partially traditional and partially already modern Romanian village. We are therefore left to our own devices to figure out her motivation during the course of the movie, where the images of dark woods and music leading us to expect some Dracula offspring or something equally sinister to jump out any minute now, do not exactly help us there.
The cinematography is really beautiful, the director commenting that it's not that difficult to be director of photography in Transylvania, where you have so many interesting things and locations to point your camera to. So many decisions about locations were made on the spot without much planning.
The movie was envisioned, shot and brought to a rough cut on a 16mm film using a director's small inheritance of 30.000 Euro. He attributes his finding a producer to finance the blow-up to 35mm to pure luck, but without this luck probably no-one would ever see this very beautiful movie. At the point of my writing the distribution contracts and all the awards brought him about a third of this investment back.
I have to mention the scene where Katalin tells the story of her being raped to her rapist and his wife, as something, that will remain in my memory for some time. Hilda Peter in the role of Katalin Varga is great. Much of the film's appeal is due to her and also other actor's performance.