Reviews

As I watched this film all I could think of was the psychological unrest that historically lead to the Third Reich in Germany. I can't believe there was another intention to the making of this sinister, clever, intelligent and harrowing cinematic experience. The movie is set in the 1916/1917 period (Second World War), when a series of murderous acts take place in a small German village, presumably perpetrated by children that by 1935 would be commanding Nazi battalions throughout Europe. This is what I was thinking during a movie that is shot in sublime black and white, that utilizes cinematic tension intelligently (it's slow for a reason), is well written (especially the voice-over narration) and is acted so superbly that you wonder why German cinema isn't more popular these days. I must say that I was completely blown away. In the end, Haneke always leaves certain unfinished business. In his movie Caché, I lost track of the mystery that he spent so much time elaborating and then ended up with a million unanswered questions… here too, I secretly wish I knew how everything fits in in the end… but this point may very well be a part of the effectiveness and overall quality of a somewhat ground-breaking movie, that says a lot about a people's descent into cruelty and into letting cruelty go unattended… I find that is the overall premise of this mystery that remains a mystery… this is a matter "left unattended", the story of these children is left as a hanging, foreboding mystery, and the sickness of their behaviour, as well as the behaviour of their families, a planted seed whose cure was never tracked or found (the already dubious doctor symbolically vanishes - which is moreover THE event that most confuses and remains unanswered), and it all seems a premonition of the even more harrowing and unexplainable reality to come. A great social commentary about the "cruel white ribbon", an intense movie that keeps you interested throughout, beautiful shots, the children are magnificent, every scene tells a well-crafted story within itself… with the added balance of a good-hearted narrator in his old age that is as confused as he is distraught about the events he's witnessed.

Life is beautiful, but misspelled... This is the premise: a backwards world in the eyes of a good man, with beautiful intentions yet too ignorant, and too overwhelmed by the world he lives in, to rearrange it all the way it is supposed to be… At some point, however, the clever premise falls through, and unfortunately, a true lack of creative work gives way to a lackluster ending with drawn-out scenes that bring no tension or intention, and make one feel that there is nothing there to say in the first place. It was a shame, at some level, to have such a stale climax for such a confusing body of a story. It made the completely chaotic development within the movie, that had a true purpose and that I comprehend and applaud, a waste of time, including the trite beginning/ending that could have very well been left in the cutting room floor (apart from the haunting dead owl over the white snow). Iñarritu visibly lost track of his movie, giving half-assed importance to stories such as that of the gay Chinese couple or the fact that Bardem's character could speak with dead people, while ignoring others (such as the relationship with the "spiritual" guide, or with his boy and wife during his final days…), which could have really given him the key to open the window of this "enclosed room" of a movie; a possibility that at one point Bardem's spiritual guide enunciates (without much subtlety at all, mind you: "go fix things up"), keeping us expectant and eventually leading us to much disappointment when the movie fails to deliver. Yes, life is a complete mess, yet there is always that hint of hope… the theme gets old and Iñarritu, at some point in his own mess, finds himself in the need of resolving without finding the right leads to do so, and is forced to simplify (i.e. with the Senegalese woman not stealing after all, or him passing on his ring/stone to his daughter… quite a lame example of a symbolic moment). There is something to this story, but… is it misspelled? In plain words, it should have been better… and when good things can be better, many times they are only overly ambitious, which is synonymous to mediocre.

If Tarkovsky films were a subject at school, this would have to be the project that won the Student Film of the Decade award. Wow, how much has this man swallowed of the fabulous Russian director. There are many, many references! I will not say if I liked it or hated it, I guess I'll keep that to myself. The movie does something, though, that is quite successful - yes, manipulative- in that it really takes you to the settings of suicidal behavior. I found the contrast between a man with all humanity in him, the ability to be an artist and to notice the life around him in an acute, caring manner, and a man with no reason to live, with no care in the world, that dehumanizes the world around him as he strips it to its core... all of this going back to the actual director of the movie who basically spits on the peasant workers' existence yet beautifies the arid landscape with stunning cinematography. Take the way he mirrors the animalism of humanity with the suicidal artist who shows us love in its utmost dehumanized form... (a scene which for many could have been omitted... yet... then there would actually be no film... no movement and no plot for that matter... I think the viewer is lucky to have 'that' scene - I know that everyone who's seen this movie knows what I mean by 'that scene'...

This is a very simple movie in that respect. It is very clear, not only visually, but the feelings as we leave the theater, that suicide is where humanity finds its dead end within itself. Now, it is long, drawn-out and a difficult thing to watch... For anyone who is just slightly turned off by intellectualism, this is the utmost inhibitory, unappealing thing on the planet. In some way, that is the intention... I guess. The film also definitely leaves the parameters of Mexico, and actually should not be considered an outright 'Mexican' film. It pays its respects to other latitudes in a way that is almost free from nationalism, and that is not always a bad thing. Even if it is too intense and for most people I think would lack the momentum for interest, there are things to get out from it, for sure.

...but the movie is great fun even when you know what's going to happen.

I'd like to call it the B-side of Yojimbo, mainly because it revisits the same character that that movie is based on, Sanjuro, but in other respects as well, being it much less renown than that movie, not that it is any less good, making it sort of the movie that a real Kurosawa fan would know about. But these two pieces are mirrors of themselves. They are strategy movies in that they are artistic 'games' that keep the viewer guessing, also showing aspects of life in the form of a staged situation, and since Kurosawa and his writing collaborators were such great masterminds at this, one is immediately caught up as if he were playing himself, or at least trying to keep up with the players' moves. The movie piles up images, intrigue, mystery and suspense and resolves it all in a very cohesive, almost perfectionist way. I mean, it is hard to find mistakes here, though we know that most of it is uncanny. I think, in this sense, Kurosawa had the talent of structuring his plot negatively, precisely by way of mistake. Every single positive plot line is rebutted by the man who has the bigger picture in mind, which is the samurai Sanjuro, who has the capacity of seeing negatively, of experiencing mistake before it occurs. This renders wonderful plot construction throughout, and source of limitless inspiration, in my opinion. Sadly, this wasn't anything that someone like George Lucas, or many other people Kurosawa influenced over the years, used in their movies. If they had, the Star Wars legacy would be a complete experience, and not just a pile of special effects with a couple of decent dramatic story lines (I give Lucas that much). Sanjuro builds wonderfully and its cohesiveness is only surpassed by its cinematic artistry.

The first scenes are both beautifully staged, intelligently written, and remarkably revelatory, as we witness not only a few minutes of in-depth character construction, but also the plot structure unfolding and the general philosophy of the film taking heed. It then goes to show, through a combination of Kurosawa's staging and Mifune's acting, the omnipresence of the samurai, much in the way Luke Skywalker failed to show his when he was finally a Jedi in Episode vi of the Star Wars saga. For example, in that movie, the Jedi pushes 'bad guys' away through an omnipresent power which no one sees or feels. That in itself negates the possibility of us believing the power is actually his -the Force he called it (giving it a name, and such a redundant use of it, already weakens the whole concept)– apart from the fact that most of the revelations of this 'Force' are creatively deficient. Here, the samurai confronts over 200 men in a most astonishing opening fight that lasts very little time. One of the great lines is his samurai contender's 'ceasefire', who says: 'Leave him. It'll take us too long to get rid of him'. The scene is a great battle scene, because of the character content it portrays, one which summarizes in just a few seconds how necessary and ingenious a fight can be within the framework of a story, far from being just merely a formulaic tool for suspense (Check out how he turns the back to the camera... cinematically more effective than attracting a sword through thin air). Finally, in this opening sequence, Kurosawa presents the exemplary subject of his film: a batch of rebellious dimwits, unexperienced and weak (again, in very little time this is explained to the utmost detail), who must overcome an inevitable destiny of imperial corruption. Their only strength of course is the goodness of their cause. We are about to witness the intent of the impossible: how a rebellion of just a handful of men shall try to overcome an entire 'empire'. This also reminds us of Star Wars, but sadly, again, Star Wars never makes us understand how powerful the empire is, what type of corruption it holds (what is the dark side anyways... why is it dark, just because they wear black, just because the are holding Leia prisoner? must be because the emperor is so ugly), and what qualities, strength, weaknesses, do the rebels hold? Oponents are devoid of contrast within themselves, thus that whole storyline is more or less a waste. In Sanjuro, it is central, because one is forced to acknowledge the ludicrous scenario (so present in humanity), and a very exemplary one in itself: the strength of corruption versus the weakness of decency. One severely outnumbers the other. And one is much more mischievous and astute, while goodness, as we see here, is few and far between, seems vulnerable, innocent and in many cases just plain dumb. The addition of the samurai personifies both sides and creates gorgeous shading throughout. Finally, the triumphal finale is wonderfully executed. And the final cinematic metaphors of that plight are unforgettable.

There are many things that can be analyzed here. But the reception of the thematic elements is what varies and inevitably, as in all or most film except for those we call classics, it is this that will divide opinions and make some people accept one film and not another; like one film or dislike it. So, yes, there is a possibility you'll find it uninteresting as a whole. However, what really makes this movie worthwhile for anyone (I say that as objectively as I can), even if you don't like B&W or older films – is the final scene: one of the most spectacular segments I've witnessed in my life. So, maybe just for that, it is worth sitting through it.

In the world, there are people who should not comment on anything. Especially those who call things 'boring', or 'a bore', or 'long and drawn out, couldn't stay awake... put it off after ten minutes (this is the @#$@# most stupid comment of them all'...) these people should avoid all commentary, because such comments do not make for a valid statement, are very far from any critical process, and should be thrown out to the street and stepped on, like the own egos who created them. Who could ever find such opinions useful? But of course, this world is far from ideal, far from intelligent, full of idiocy, 'there is no hope for fools' as Mifune once acted. It is true, people are fools. We all are most of the times, but most are always. Thus, we get fools commenting, usually at their most foolish point, writing their own minute visions of 'art' haphazardly, (it's a wonder how they can be so reckless with such simplistic concepts roaming their heads) repeating words like 'junk', and 'waste of my time'... exactly, life is a waste of their time. That's for sure. 'So... you don't mind if I kill you now?' (As Mifune once acted). This movie is a wonderful, universal film. Not at all perfect... (which encumbers a whole nother set of nauseating remarks such as 'perfect film... flawless...unbeatable plot...'). But who wants perfect!? Universal is key and most important here, forget all those people who mistook Kurosawa in Japan... Japan is like all societies, full of idiots, full of close-minded people looking for an ideal, trying to be their own geniuses. Don't need none of that. Done need 'isolationism', 'nationalism', 'my word is right' 'the dogma' 'follow the tradition to the bone or you are a traitor'... And by saying all this, I am basically trying to show what this movie is about. The weakness of all opinion, the fall of all sides without perspective. Only the genius, he who is capable of abstraction, who can analyze behind all notions of bad and good, will withstand time, will survive. None of the rest matters. All of the rest destroys itself, annihilates itself, and could is better off dead... the sooner the better, in fact. Whoever thinks that Kurosawa wrote about the honor of the samurai as a historical institution, is missing the fact that many of his films play on the samurai who to survive must deviate from all known feeling of honor, especially in a film like this, whose premise and character, Sanjuro, represents the 'decadence' of the samurai tradition... A most important aspect - perhaps the only underlying aspect - of the film, stated even before the first dialog appears. This is not a movie about good and evil, about honor and shame... universality goes far beyond this. He who sees the big picture has the gift of immortality, of being universal. This is a movie that, in a very humble, concise and attractive way, exemplifies such artistic ideals, giving an unrealistic power to a man who is more than man. The most beautiful and harrowing aspect of Sanjuro for the townspeople, is that he is his own bodyguard. He is endowed with this poetic perfection, which nobody else has... he almost doesn't exist for them (he is absent during all revenges), because this is unfathomable to everyone in the town. He is God. He is just, brings justice, above all notions of justice. This movie defeats all people who find it boring, and all who could possibly revere it to death, me included. It exists alone. It is it's own nomad. It walks behind us all. Behind anything we could muster up saying about it to describe it. I'm also a fool for writing this comment. The only thing not foolish is watching the film, arriving at that town the way Kurosawa intended us to, without any previous knowledge or prejudice, where there is no good or evil, just people doing what they usually do, think they and only they are right, where things aren't anything that they seem, but at the same time, are only what they appear to be... ruins. To be able to do this, to see it in this way as a viewer, is already a feat. Don't get bored just yet, don't cry out it's genius. Try to be a viewer, make that effort. It's an ideal, I know... it may be forever impossible. But I guess it could also make for a better person in you.