2003: Confidences Trop Intimes di Patrice Leconte

“Ancora una volta il regista francese ha saputo colpire al cuore” (MyMovies), “E’ il film più fine di Leconte” (Il Morandini), “Un piccolo capolavoro da non perdere assolutamente” (Il Corriere della Sera), “Patrice Leconte è un regista pieno di sorprese e, di stile, ne ha da vendere. Questo film ne è la dimostrazione inoppugnabile” (Repubblica).

Patrice Leconte è autore vari piccoli gioielli che è giusto ricordare: Tandem del 1987, Il marito della parrucchiera del 1990, Ridicule del 1996, La ragazza sul ponte del 1999, L’amore che non muore del 2000, L’uomo del treno del 2002, Il mio migliore amico del 2006.

In Confidenze troppo intime il regista parigino affronta una sfida che definire ardua è poco: attanagliare lo spettatore per due ore con una vicenda in cui l’azione manca quasi totalmente e che si svolge quasi sempre nello stesso chiuso (claustrofobico) ambiente. Ma Patrice Leconte vi riesce in pieno con un film che è un continuo omaggio a Hitchcock e che non ci consente un attimo di distrazione.

Un’opera dal ritmo serrato senza una scena di troppo, un racconto che incuriosisce e instilla nello spettatore mille dubbi e mille interrogativi, una trama (che non va raccontata dettagliatamente) arricchita da tante piccole notazioni intelligenti e di profonda umanità.

Un film sulla solitudine, sulla difficoltà di comunicare e di essere capiti, un film in cui ti senti coinvolto fin dai primi minuti, partecipe ed emozionato (un film che è un delitto spezzettare in primo e secondo tempo… ma quando la finiremo con questa cattiva abitudine di cui non si capisce il senso?).  Un film che finisce nel modo più inatteso ma coerente e credibile (alzi la mano chi non rimarrà sorpreso!). Sandrine Bonnaire e Fabrice Luchini offrono una performance eccezionale che non sarà dimenticata tanto facilmente.

Intrigante, ambiguo, sensuale, raffinato, ironico, leggero e profondo al contempo… “un thriller dei sentimenti” (Olga di Comite) che riconcilia col grande schermo e mostra in pieno la grande forza del cinema europeo.

Da sottoscrivere quanto scrive Gianni Merlin su Cinemovie: “Un invidiabile connubio fra sceneggiatura pungente, occhio cinematografico e bravura degli attori, come a dire forse le 3 principali doti di cui una pellicola deve dotarsi per la sua buona riuscita e che propriamente fanno di Confidenze troppo intime una piccola lezione di cinema”.

Note: Per questo film Patrice Leconte ha avuto la nomination al Festival di Berlino e agli European Film Awards

scheda

To film niełatwy, uwierający, drapiący. To też i intymny dokument, próbujący opisać świat osoby autystycznej. Świat nieprzyjemny, nieznany, w którym zwykły widelec może stać się niebezpiecznym narzędziem. Świat, którego nie jesteśmy w stanie zrozumieć, w którym mózg jest wrogiem, nie sprzymierzeńcem. Świat chorych na autyzm.

Przy okazji tego typu obrazów za każdym razem pojawia się pytanie, czy ingerencja w rzeczywistość portretowanego bohatera nie jest zbyt daleko idąca, czy nie widzimy zbyt dużo, czy sfera osobista nie została naruszona. Z drugiej  strony mogą również pojawić się inne wątpliwości natury moralnej: na ile zachowano obiektywizm, czy reżyser nie próbuje manipulować widzem, posiłkując się mocnym i wyciskającym łzy tematem. Nic z tych rzeczy, to nie jest płaczliwy melodramat. Uznanej francuskiej aktorce Sandrine Bonnaire, tym razem po drugiej stronie kamery, udało uniknąć się wszelkich pułapek, być może dlatego, że portretuje swoją siostrę, Sabine. Sabine od zawsze była inna, jak mówi Sandrine. Ale jednocześnie nie różniła się od dziewcząt w jej wieku: kochała muzykę (świetnie grała na fortepianie), podróżowała wraz ze swoją rodziną, czytała mnóstwo książek. Owszem, była nieporadna, nie umiała nawiązać kontaktów z otoczeniem, była wyalienowana, ale żyła pełnią sił, tak mocno, na ile było ją stać. To wszystko w czasie przeszłym. Bo kiedy objawy choroby zaczęły się nasilać, Sabine trafia do szpitala psychiatrycznego, z którego wychodzi po paru latach jako nieprzygotowane do życia warzywo, nafaszerowane farmaceutykami. Otyła kobieta, która w wyniku nietrafnych/niepełnych/najłatwiejszych diagnoz, straciła całą nadzieję, nawet jeśli zupełnie nie zdaje sobie z tego sprawy. Sabine mieszka obecnie w ośrodku dla osób autystycznych, gdzie bardzo powoli uczy się przystosowania. Rozmowa z prowadzącą jej lekarką rozwiewa wszelkie wątpliwości: do stanu poprzedniej sprawności, mimo że ułomnej, ale jednak sprawności, Sabine nie powróci. Prawdopodobnie nigdy nie zagra na fortepianie swych ulubionych piosenek. Będzie brzdąkać proste melodie.

Ma na imię Sabine to oskarżenie skierowane do francuskich władz medycznych, które nie potrafiły zająć się chorą na autyzm dziewczyną w sposób należyty i odpowiedni. Leki nie mogą zastąpić terapii, mogą być tylko jej uzupełnieniem. Dokument pokazuje, jak bardzo służba zdrowia nie jest gotowa na opiekę nad niepełnosprawnymi ludźmi, jak zabiera im to, co mogło być dla nich najważniejsze. To oskarżenie wybrzmiewa tym mocniej, że sceny z dawnego i obecnego życia bohaterki przeplatają się ze sobą, zastępując jakikolwiek komentarz. Wstrząsającą jest scena, kiedy Sabine ogląda swą podróż do Nowego Jorku i widzi młodą, uśmiechniętą, fantastyczną dziewczynę. Dziewczyną, którą kiedyś była. Sabine płacze, ale – jak mówi – płacze ze szczęścia. Pewnie dlatego, że zdążyła tam pojechać. I że zdążyła te wspomnienia zachować. To być może jedyne, co jej zostało. Bonnaire dokumentuje życie swej siostry, pełne krzyku, nieprzewidywalnych reakcji, złości, nieustannego ślinotoku, płaczu, powtarzanych do znudzenia sformułowań, ale jednocześnie potrzeby zrozumienia inności, konieczności jeszcze mocniejszej niż zwykle czułości. Ale robi to przede wszystkim dla siebie, jakby dla usprawiedliwienia, że zajęta karierą nie umiała zająć się siostrą.

7/10

Piatto ricco per l’edizione n.66 della Mostra Internazionale d’arte cinematografica, ben 184 titoli in catalogo, ai quali aggiungere i 28 delle Giornate degli autori e i 10 della Settimana della critica.
Il direttore Marco Muller ha infatti deciso, come giustamente sottolinea stamane Paolo Mereghetti sul Corriere della sera, di inseguire “nuovi modi di essere pubblico”, puntando sulla Mostra non più come accentratrice di nuove tendenze, ma come “un grande accumulo dei modi di produzione e di fare cinema”, passando con estrema disinvoltura dai film “di genere” a quelli “d’autore”.
Vedremo nel corso del suo svolgimento se la scelta si rivelerà azzeccata e quale sarà la reazione della Giuria(anche questa composta in modo estremamente eterogeneo, presieduta dal regista Ang Lee, vede tra i giurati anche Liliana Cavani, l’autore russo Serghej Bodrov, l’attrice francese Sandrine Bonnaire, il regista americano Joe Dante, l’indiano Anurag Kashyap e il rocker, ma anche valido regista, Luciano Ligabue) e soprattutto il responso del grande pubblico nelle sale.
Forse sarà la volta buona per conciliare qualità e riscontro “popolare”, in particolare per il nostro cinema che sembra puntare di nuovo verso opere di ampio respiro senza incartarsi più su stesso: l’avvio con Baaria di Giuseppe Tornatore è la testimonianza più evidente, un grande affresco autobiografico,girato in dialetto siciliano e proiettato, probabilmente, con sottotitoli, un vero e proprio viaggio nel tempo, non solo in senso metaforico, costato due anni di lavoro(e 30 milioni di euro), con oltre 200 attori e 35mila comparse,che rientra tra i film in concorso.
Tra i film italiani in corsa anche Il grande sogno di Michele Placido, Lo spazio bianco di Francesca Comencini, La doppia ora di Giuseppe Capotondi; tra i film stranieri da segnalare, anche per le polemiche che forse li accompagneranno,Lebanon di Samuel Manoz, girato dentro un carro armato, Survival of the Dead di George A. Romero, un horror splatter dal sottofondo metaforicamente politico, The road di John Hillcoat, dalle atmosfere post-apocalittiche, Lourdes di Jessica Hausner, Bad lieutenant:port of call New Orleans, di Werner Herzog, remake de Il cattivo tenente di Abel Ferrara.
Grande assente Tullio Kezich, recentemente scomparso, che ,seguendo la Mostra del cinema di Venezia, nel 1946, per Radio Trieste, aveva iniziato la sua carriera di critico cinematografico: la sua visione obiettivamente critica ed emozionalmente costruttiva mancherà a molti, addetti ai lavori e non.

It’s the theme that would not die, at least not on this blog…

Mae Clarke, Edna Purviance, Jean Harlow, Marion Davies, Merle Oberon, Thelma Todd, Dolores Costello, Marie Dressler, Ida Lupino, Mary Astor, Joan Crawford, Kathryn McGuire, Arletty, Patricia Neal, Deborah Kerr, Junie Astor, Ursula Andress, Jane Fonda, Sandrine Bonnaire, Jean Seberg.

(related posts: 20 Actors, 20 (more) Actors, 20 Actors (coda), 20 Actors (encore), 20 Actresses, 20 (more) Actresses, 20 Actresses (grand finale), 20 Actresses (ultimo))

Recommendations elsewhere on the web:

The Art of Memory’s latest amazing post on Trains In Cinema.

House of Mirth and Movies’ fascinating look at box office numbers of the top films of 1956.

Allure’s amusing recap of 1930’s film actresses swearing off marriage and how that worked out.

Vagabond (Sans toit ni loi) begins with its end: the discovery of a female transient’s dead body triggers the film’s quest to understand the young woman and the events in the weeks leading up to her untimely demise. Through flashbacks, we the audience learn about how a girl named Mona (played by the fantastic Sandrine Bonnaire) lived her life on the road and what feelings this non-traditional lifestyle stirred in those who encountered her.

Sandrine Bonnaire as Mona in Vagabond. Image taken from ferdyonfilms.com.

The vagabond as a character in literature and film has existed for well over a century. The term “vagabond” originated from British law and took on political significance during the Peasant’s Revolt in 14th century Europe when, as a figure of suspicion, constables could “collar vagabonds and force them to show their means of support.” While the original French title of Vagabond does not utilize the term (the literal translation is “without roof or law”), it’s use of vagabond as the English version’s title is significant in it’s political connotations. As the title of this entry indicates, Mona represents a puzzling figure to those around her as one who rejects the social norms expected of her gender and class. This early scene demonstrates the ways in which Mona’s status as a young female drifter sometimes results in confrontations:

But while some characters see Mona as a vulnerable target for their advances, others–particularly women–admire her for her strength. Mona’s refusal to remain fixed in one location, to be tied to any particular relationship, defies norms of femininity. By contrast, we learn of Yolande, a maid to an elderly woman and girlfriend of a verbally abusive boyfriend. Interestingly, Yolande confesses to the audience that she admired Mona for her passion and freedom. As foils, Yolande clearly falls on the feminine end of the gender spectrum, taking care of those around her, while Mona worries solely about her own desires and needs, as demonstrated by her breaking up with various men throughout her journey. In this way, Mona reveals Yolande’s desire to break out of the constraints of femininity.

For other characters, Mona also challenges notions of class. While sharing a bottle of champagne, a female professor questions Mona about how she came to be a transient. Mona divulges that she previously studied to be a typist. “Why did you drop out?” the professor asks. “Champagne on the road’s better!” Mona responds. In other words, Mona chooses the pleasures of life on the road over the stability of a regular paycheck. This lack of concern over class also manifests itself in her appearance–her tattered cloths and dirty hair reveal her status to all who encounter her, repelling some and attracting others as demonstrated by the trailer below:

Through its convention of character confessionals, Vagabond reveals the conflicts that Mona stirs in each individual she encounters, and in the process, forces audience members to do the same. That Mona dies at the film’s introduction and conclusion does not resolve these tensions but produces more, for in her early death, Mona’s aspirations remain uncompromised. It’s this inability to compromise that makes Mona a truly radical figure.

Filmado em formato padrão (1.33: 1)de tela e com raros recursos extras de som e imagem, este doloroso documentário realizado pela atriz francesa Sandrine Bonnaire não é definitivamente indicado para almas sensíveis ao sofrimento e os que buscam o cinema em sua essência que é o puro entretenimento. Trata-se da vida de sua irmã autista documentada desde sua bela e quase normal adolescência até sua transformação numa adulta agressiva, obesa e estranha pela ação da medicação intensa.

A montagem habilidosa destes dois momentos distintos faz de “Elle s’appele Sabine” um filme especial que culmina justamente com a imagem pungente do choro bizarro e verdadeiro de Sabine assistindo a sua própria imagem na TV num momento sadio e feliz passado em sua cidade preferida da América.

Na catarse final documentada por um possível e infundado sentimento de culpa de Sandrine, ela consegue nos fazer enxergar a importância do amor no tratamento de toda a enfermidade, especialmente àquelas ligadas à saúde da mente, que equilibra todas as outras.

Por:  Carlos Henry.

Sandrine Bonnaire and Isabelle Huppert

This is only the second Chabrol film I’ve seen, after Le boucher, but already I’m recognizing a distinct style. La cérémonie is, as Le boucher was, curiously detached from its subjects and their actions. Sandrine Bonnaire is excellent as an odd housekeeper hired by a well-to-do bourgeois family (led by stately matriarch Jacqueline Bisset), and as soon as she enters their lives, we can tell something is wrong with her. We’re not sure what, but she doesn’t seem like a part of what’s happening around her, a sort of aloof voyeur. Which is probably Chabrol’s comment on the audience. What to think, then, when Bonnaire makes friends with wild post office worker Isabelle Huppert, and suddenly the tables begin turning on the family? Imagine a slow-burn Funny Games, minus all of Michael Haneke’s self-conscious trickery but with loads of subtle visual cues and an air of genuine mysteriousness. This is an engrossing film. A-

À nos amours tells the story of a 15 year old promiscuous girl. However, the problem is, that she doesn’t necessarily have any feelings for any of these boys. She does it for fun. At home, her dysfunctional family doesn’t understand her behavior and constantly give her beatings; both physically and vocally.

Now, I have very mixed feelings about the cinematography. There were some very authentically beautiful moments and visuals, but several scenes are almost ruined by some – in my opinion, anyway – poor directorial choices and bad technical work. Most of the cinematography consists of medium-wide shots (wide shots from the waist up, usually). I found this to be an awesome directorial decision. We can clearly tell by these choices what the Pialat is saying – very rarely do we see any extreme close-ups. A majority of the frames do not move, and are stationary and very meticulously placed. That much was very, very well-done. Now, what bothered me considerably was the use of the dolly and dolly-zoom. This was extremely bothersome and ultimately very distracting. It was almost infuriating to see such great cinematography marred by irritating, quick dolly movements that didn’t necessarily need to be there in the first place. I’m not fond of dolly-zooms or dollyshots to begin with, but they can be used properly. What seems to cause these shot choices not to work would be the lack of movement in the characters – it’s much more noticeable in this case.

Either the acting is stellar, or leaves a lot to be desired with À nos amours. Sandrine Bonnaire was fantastic, as usual. Her role required tremendous subtly, and she lived up to it and surpassed it. Sandrine managed to convey everything she needed to with her eyes and features. Another remarkable performance was Cyr Boitard, as Luc. Despite the fact we only see him a few times, he does a wonderful job. Both Sandrine and Cyr are capable of expressing themselves without the theatrics and melodrama. Now, two performances that were completely unbelievable were both the brother and the mother. They both seemed to be far to theatrical, and less natural. For that reason, I didn’t buy their relationship at all. It seemed completely unreal. However, some of the most intense moments were still felt because of Sandrine’s wonderful performance. Sandrine’s father in A nos amours was also quite good – their more “quiet” moments were extremely well done. So, for the most part the acting is good. But several moments were almost ruined due to several poor performances.

Overall, a nice film. Try and not let my rating fool you. I did like the film a lot; it was very well-done, but ultimately very uneven. Some serious issues are brought up in the film and handled wonderfully. It deals with how a dysfunctional, abusive family can have huge repercussions on a person’s life and their ability to love another and to feel loved in return.

Rating: 3.5/5

Uma bloguista do Porto mandou-nos este fotograma dum filme, talvez em resposta ao nosso devaneio sobre as polaróides. Só o Porto, para ver o dia nestas cores. Quem tirasse esta polaróide tinha de ter ficado à chuva, com a mão por cima da máquina. À espera de não haver nenhum movimento súbito.

France/Germany

Director: Claude Chabrol

112 min

Synopsis

Our synopses give away the plot in full, including surprise twists

Brittany, France, the present day. Catherine, a middle aged, middle class art gallery manager meets Sophie, a young woman at a cafe – Sophie is applying for the position of housekeeper. Catherine collects Sophie from the rail station a few days later to start work, where Jeanne, the post office clerk cadges a lift. Catherine’s stepdaughter Melinda considers their treatment of Sophie degrading. Sophie avoids using the dishwasher, refuses to take driving lessons, buys glasses with weak lenses and has trouble giving a shopkeeper the correct change for shopping – all hint at the secret of her illiteracy that she has kept hidden from everyone.

When the family are on holiday, Sophie befriends Jeanne who seems to have her own agenda towards the family. Jeanne helps her order the shopping when Catherine leaves a list she can’t read. Jeanne has secretly been reading Georges’ (Catherine’s husband) mail. Georges who suspects this tells Catherine that Jeanne murdered her child many years ago. Sophie sneaks out of Melinda’s birthday party to meet Jeanne. Jeanne has discovered that Sophie’s father died in an arson attack that Sophie was suspected of, whilst Sophie reveals she knows Jeanne’s past. Sophie overhears Melinda telling her boyfriend she is pregnant and Melinda discovers Sophie’s illiteracy. Sophie blackmails her into keeping quiet. Georges fires Sophie when Melinda tells of her blackmail attempts. The family watch Don Giovanni on TV at home one night. Sophie and Jeanne return and kill the entire family. Jeanne dies in a car accident leaving the scene.

Review

Chabrol is considered one of the more mainstream of the Nouvelle Vague film makers; not strictly mentioned in the same revered tones as Godard, Truffaut or Resnais, but he also proved to be the director from this era with the greatest longevity, still making a film a year into his seventies. Considered perhaps the finest of his 1990s cycle and nominated for several Cesars (winning only for Isabelle Huppert’s performance), ‘La Cérémonie’ is based on a 1960s Ruth Rendell mystery, “Judgement in Stone” and has been relocated to 1990s Northwestern France but otherwise remains faithful to the original source.

Referred to by the director in jest as “the last Marxist film”, ‘La Cérémonie’ is a typically caustic exploration of the French middle class, which had been familiar ground for Chabrol for many years (including his best regarded cycle of films from the late 1960s; ‘La Femme Infidele, Le Boucher etc). He presents us with a typical middle class family; Georges a businessman, Catherine an art gallery manager, and Melinda and Gilles, their student children. However the superficial perfection of this family is undermined by an accusation by Jeanne that Georges’ first wife committed suicide, presumably because of the implied infidelity between Georges and Catherine. Like their working class “inferiors”, Jeanne and Sophie, this family also has its secrets that it wishes to hide. Their behaviour towards Sophie is described as patronising by Melinda, who thinks the term “maid” is more degrading than “housekeeper” or “domestic” for instance, and that they treat her like a slave, not talking to her and using television to pacify her. Although their interaction with Sophie is impersonal and a little cold, Chabrol doesn’t strictly demonise his bourgeois characters with as much venom as he had done in previous films. This makes the final act of violence all the more frightening and inexplicable.

The issue of Sophie’s illiteracy is interesting because Chabrol reveals it after leaving several clues; asking Catherine what day it is, her inability to count correct change and so on. It’s only when Catherine asks Sophie to call the grocers for a shopping delivery that her secret is revealed to us. There’s a painful scene when Sophie uses a manual designed for those with illiteracy to make sense of words. Upon learning this secret, it makes such sense to us having seen Sophie refuse seemingly innocuous requests. However although Sophie’s illiteracy is known to us, it’s kept a secret from the family for far longer and is in fact only known when Melinda randomly puts on Sophie’s glasses and realises the lenses are weak. The patronising reaction of Melinda and later her family might reveal why Sophie wouldn’t mention her illiteracy. But on the other hand, isn’t Sophie’s illiteracy a MacGuffin of sorts? It explains her alienation from the family but doesn’t explain her collaboration with Jeanne in their ultimate act of violence. What bonds Sophie and Jeanne is their ambivalent violent pasts, for which neither could be found guilty – Sophie was accused of murdering her father in an arson attack and Jeanne was accused of murdering her mentally deficient child (a rumour Georges is happy to repeat). Note how they joyously embrace when they mutually discover the others’ pasts. It’s at this point that their relationship becomes increasingly disturbing with homicidal potential and the issue of Sophie’s illiteracy becomes almost forgotten, besides being a tool to blackmail Melinda and force her firing.

Even in the moments before the massacre, we’re still uncertain about what’s going to occur. Although Jeanne has been banned from the house (Sophie is almost treated as one of the children) and Sophie sneaks her in, it just seems rebellious, almost adolescent behaviour. The pair vandalise the house and even as they handle the guns, mock-shooting, it still feels harmless. The family, seated together, watching Don Giovanni are blissfully unaware of their own impending destruction, as is Georges when he confronts the pair. Perhaps influenced by Genet’s “The Maids”, based on the real-life Papin sisters murders, Jeanne and Sophie are two women with the potential for murder, which can only be realised fully together. Although there’s an extent of class-based hatred on Jeanne’s part, these murders strike us mostly as being out of left-field. Even more peculiar is the calm reaction; mutually exclaiming “well done” and Sophie shooting a book as if taking a shot at her own illiteracy or the comfort of the bourgeoisie. There’s also the chilling clean-up operation as both agree that nothing can be proved.

Starting with a stunning demonstration of camerawork trained on Sophie’s movements towards the cafe, revealed to be a subjective shot from Catherine’s own point of view, ‘La Cérémonie’ is a chilling account of one woman’s shame and insecurity about her secret that spills into murder. Critics such as Jonathan Rosenbaum immediately declared ‘La Cérémonie’ a masterpiece and there’s plenty to recommend;  perfect performances by Sandrine Bonnaire and Isabelle Huppert, two of France’s finest actresses, a wicked and dark sense of humour and a denouément that confounds our expectations. Chabrol’s subtle and ambivalent approach only increases the tension.

Les Voyeurs #35 : Les Sports à la con
Emission diffusée le vendredi 09 mai 2008 à 16h
Rediffusée le samedi 10 mai 2008 à 10h

Actualité

- Tapis rouge et autres peaux de bananes : autobiographie de Rupert Everett.
-4 bandes-annonces d’adaptions de comics qui tombent la même semaine : L’Incroyable Hulk ; Hancock ; The Dark Knight ; The Spirit.
-Megan Fox – #1 Sexiest Woman in the world par FHM : Le palmarès annuel des 1OO femmes les plus sexy du monde par le magazine FHM, parce que les actrices sont toujours aussi belles !
- Elle s’appelle Sabine de Sandrine Bonaire, à l’affiche aux Arcades.
- Torso : nouveau fanzine consacré à Takashi Miike. Disponible sur Sin’Art. 3€.
- Peeping Tom #00 : fanzine créé par Jan Jouvert. Disponible en téléchargement gratuit sur Les Voyeurs !

Dossier : Les Sports à la con !

A l’occasion de la sortie au cinéma le 14 mai de Semi-Pro de Kent Alterman, avec Will Ferrell, Woody Harrelson & Andre Benjamin.

Les Chasses à l’homme

Rollerball de Norman Jewison (1975)
Rollerball de John McTiernan (2002)
Le Prix du Danger de Yves Boisset (1983)
Running Man de Paul-Michael Glaser (1987)
La Chasse du Comte Zarof de Ernest B. Schoedsack & Irving Pichel (1932)
Chasse à l’homme de John Woo (1993)
La Course à la mort de l’An 2000 de Paul Bartel (1975)
Deathsport de Allan Arkush (1978)

La castagne c’est bien

Dodgeball – Même pas mal ! de Rawson Marshall Thurber (2004)
La Castagne de George Roy Hill (1977)

Le Kung-Foot & le Ping-Pong Mortal Kombat

Shaolin Soccer de Stephen Chow (2002)
Crazy Kung-Fu de Stephen Chow (2005)
Balls of Fury de Robert Ben Garant (2007 – encore inédit en france) : les bandes-annonces, c’est par là => BA Quicktime (en SD et HD, mais que en VO…)

Films avec des Sports à la con

Arsenic et Vieilles Dentelles de Franc Capra (1944)
New York 1997 & Los Angeles 2013 de John Carpenter (1981 & 1996)
La première folie des Monthy Python de Ian McNaughton & Terry Gilliam (1971)
Le Forum en Folie de Richard Lester (1966)

La BO de la Semaine

Dracula de Bram Stoker
Bande Originale composée par Wojciech Kilar
Piste 2 – Vampire Hunters

Bienvenue au Drive-In

Breakfast Club de John Hughes (1985)

Musique

Kung-Fu Fightin’ de Carl Douglas

Extraits

Dodgeball
Shaolin Soccer

La 58e Berlinale s’ouvre aujourd’hui avec la venue des Rolling Stones dans la capitale allemande. Une édition qui fera part belle à la musique, aux films documentaires et où les Français seront présents, dans le jury et en compétition

Berlin s’habille aux couleurs du festival (Photo. S. V.)

Des stars, des centaines de film, de la musique, des documentaires, la Berlinale s’apprête à faire passer des nuits blanches à la capitale allemande du 7 au 17 février. Au milieu de tout cela, trois films français en compétition et un jury à tendance francophile.
Musique et documentaires
Les Rolling Stones auront le privilège de fouler les premiers le tapis rouge du palais du festival pour la présentation du documentaire qui leur est consacré Shine a Light du réalisateur Martin Scorsese. Ce film est le symbole des deux grandes tendances de cette édition : musique et films documentaires.
Lors de la présentation des films en compétition en effet, le président du festival, Dieter Kosslick, n’a pas manqué de faire remarquer la présence inhabituelle d’un documentaire, en l’occurrence Standard Operating Procedure de l’américain Erol Morris. L’aspect musical de la 58e Berlinale sera, lui, mis de nouveau en exergue avec la venue à Berlin d’une autre star de la chanson, Madonna. C’est donc une véritable ribambelle de vedettes, de Scarlett Johansson à Nathalie Portman, en passant par l’idole de Bollywood Shah Ruhk Khan, et peut-être Julia Roberts, qui défileront à Berlin.

Trois chances françaises
Parmi les 21 films en compétition, trois réalisateurs français vont concourir pour l’Ours d’Or. Ainsi, Robert Guédiguian (Marius et Jeanette, Le Promeneur du Champ-de-Mars) retrouve ses acteurs favoris Ariane Ascaride, Gérard Meylan et Jean-Pierre Darroussin pour présenter son dernier opus Lady Jane.
Quant à Erick Zonca, dont La Vie rêvée des Anges avait remporté un véritable succès couronné par un César du meilleur film, il sera à Berlin pour Julia avec Tilda Swinton. Enfin, la dernière chance française viendra de l’écrivain Philippe Claudel qui, après avoir été auteur et scénariste de Les âmes grises, réalise Il y a longtemps que je t’aime… où il réunit Kristin Scott-Thomas et Elsa Zylberstein. Tous trois auront fort à faire pour tenter de succéder à Le Mariage de Tuya du cinéaste chinois Wang Quan an.

Un jury francophile
Mais pour ces trois réalisateurs, la composition du jury paraîtra peut-être de bon augure. Celle-ci avait déjà bien commencé avec la nomination du réalisateur franco-grec Costa-Gavras en tant que président du jury. Dieter Kosslick a salué en lui, “un réalisateur de films engagés et ambitieux. Rien que de dire qu’il est le président de la Cinémathèque française impose le respect”. Costa-Gavras pourra sans problème s’entretenir en français avec l’actrice allemande Diane Kruger, qui a fait ses classes au cours Florent et a été mariée à l’acteur français Guillaume Canet.
L’actrice française Sandrine Bonnaire, qui viendra également à Berlin pour présenter son documentaire Elle s’appelle Sabine, aurait cependant renoncé à participer au jury à la dernière minute, selon nos informations.
Sébastien VANNIER, jeudi 7 février 2008 pour Le Petit Journal de Berlin. Cliquer ici pour voir la source.

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Les Stones enflamment la 58e Berlinale (France 3 )