As a race, we are more scared by human fears than atrocities to humans. The latter just disaffects us, or like a reporter in Hotel Rwanda says, “They’ll watch it, say, ‘Oh! That’s horrible,’ and continue with their dinners.” It is exactly this reaction that director Terry George is trying to keep us from, by focusing on a hotel manager (the real life Paul Rusesabagina, played by Don Cheadle) and his efforts to protect his family and over a thousand other ‘Tutsis’, who have taken refuge at his hotel.

First, a few words on the conflict (what I learnt from the movie): Rwanda was colonised by the Belgians, who for administrative purposes split the population into ‘Hutus’ and ‘Tutsis’ (interesting side-note: these two words don’t attract the ire of the spell-check on Microsoft Word). Tutsis were the minority, taller and fairer than their Hutu counterparts. Using the common method of divide and rule, Belgians gave the Tutsis power (these were the administrative purposes).  When they left, it was obviously the Hutus who usurped power. They treated the Tutsis badly. The Tutsis rebelled. The Hutus formed a militant army of their own (the ‘Interhammwe’, separate from the Rwandan army but being helped by them), and started “denying the Tutsi cockroaches volunteers”. The events in Hotel Rwanda take place at the Hotel Milles Collines when the Interhammwe have power over the capital Kigali.

Hotel Rwanda has been widely criticised on two counts: on not being ‘artistic’ enough, and for not focusing enough on the genocide the movie is situated in. But it is exactly these two facts that made the movie so hard-hitting for me, in fact more so on the second watch than on the first.

This movie does not take the form of art, and for good reason, because art, at its core, involves fakery, even of the fakery is being used to get through to some deeper truth. It is the exact form of fakery that distinguishes one artist from another. How else can we be sure that a clip we are watching is from one director or another? Once when I was in sixth class, we had four extracts from books, one by a cricketer, one by a filmmaker, one by a swimmer, and one by a writer. Even then, I could tell that that one was by a writer. Even in this piece, you can clearly see the writer, in the overuse of commas and brackets, for example. The whole idea is that we must not be aware of the person behind the camera, just the people in front of it.

The movie focuses on the efforts, through bribery and ass-kissing and other hotel manager ways, of Paul Rusesabagina to protect his wife (who’s a Tutsi herself), his kids (considered Hutus because their dad is and Rwandans don’t believe in calling people half-bloods) and over a thousand Tutsis who have taken refuge at his hotel. They have an idea of what’s happening outside, and a good part of the movie involves Paul and his wife Tatiana (pronounced Ta-ciaa-na) and their fears, during all the scenes about which I had a lump in my throat. This is what struck home; while – and because – I had an idea of the political rumblings outside the hotel, I was scared to death for these two. It is a general fact that the only way we can feel real sadness for a big set of people is by completely empathising with the feelings of some among them. Take for example The Pianist, or Githa Hariharan’s Fugitive Histories in which a girl’s guilt walking through an unsettled riot victims’ colony made me feel guilty about ever complaining, or Indra Sinha’s Animal’s People which is an almost exuberant look at the lives of the victims of the 1984 Bhopal Gas tragedy.

I understand I haven’t said much about the movie as a movie, making this more of a rebuttal than a review. But, the fact is that there isn’t all that much to say; it’s almost like a documentary in its stark realism – but has the advantage over one in its lack of impersonalness – and has to be watched. It cannot be described, at least not by me. It is a movie where there is no one we can call an ‘auteur’. It derives completely from real-life events. Though everyone is excellent in their work, no one brings a stamp of self to it, and this, I say, is what gives the movie its greatness. And a great movie it very much is. In the aftermath of this movie, you question the value of all art. And though you may come up with an intellectual justification, in your heart you really don’t feel it. Why all of it when there is Hotel Rwanda which so faithfully documents the failings and triumphs of humanity? But the real question is not that; that is just a minor question, just the art part. The real question is, how can we bear to enjoy when there is this happening? I watched this movie last night, and while this feeling has mostly dissipated, it hasn’t gone. None of the other movies I’ve watched or books I’ve read have made me ask that question. None. And certainly never on a second viewing.

Crítica de Cinema – Texto publicado originalmente em A ARCA, em 18/08/2005.

Olha, se eu fosse um membro da Academia, esta última edição do Oscar teria me deixado de cabelos em pé, sem sombra de dúvidas. Afinal, os longas concorrentes neste ano eram simplesmente muito bons; não tinha um título que fosse menos que razoável (à exceção, a meu ver, de Em Busca da Terra do Nunca, do qual não gostei nem um pouco e assumo). Imaginem o sufoco destes caras ao escolher um vencedor em cada categoria de modo que não parecesse injusto para quem não levou o prêmio… Alguém como eu surtaria numa situação destas! Bem, eu surto por qualquer coisa, então esqueçam esta última linha. Não que eu ache que o Oscar ainda tenha alguma importância, porque não tem mesmo.

Enfim, o Oscar passou, o Clint merecidamente levou, e a vida continua. E aos poucos, nós, os brazucas, finalmente temos acesso aos filmes menores que marcaram uma obscura presença na listinha dos indicados. E depois de conferir o aclamado drama independente Hotel Ruanda (Hotel Rwanda, 2004) – concorrente nas categorias Melhor Ator, Atriz Coadjuvante e Roteiro – eu me pergunto: “Céus, como puderam deixar esta coisinha de lado?”. O que acontece é que contra fatos não há argumentos: ao lado de Menina de Ouro e A Queda! As Últimas Horas de Hitler, este Hotel Ruanda completa o grupinho dos longas mais importantes da última premiação da Academia. Bonito, sincero, cruel, importante e sem um traço da presunção que inunda 9 entre 10 filmes baseados em fatos reais – sim, eu estou falando de A Lista de Schindler! Pronto, soltei!

A comparação com a menina dos olhos de Steven Spielberg não foi em vão: em Hotel Ruanda, estréia do irlandês Terry George na direção de longas-metragens, um homem também faz sacrifícios inimagináveis e arrisca sua própria carcaça para salvar pessoas que sequer conhece de um acontecimento mais do que trágico – em Schindler, o Holocausto; em Ruanda, uma guerra civil que causou o extermínio de mais de um milhão de inocentes. Entretanto, ao contrário do ricaço Oskar Schindler da vida real (e não do filme, já que Spielberg criou um retrato totalmente maquiado do que realmente foi o homem), o civil Paul Rusesabagina não tencionava lucrar nas costas de ninguém.

No enredo, Paul (Don Cheadle) era o bem-sucedido gerente do Hotel Milles Collines, em Kigali, capital da Ruanda, simpático e cheio de manobras para chamar público. Kigali ficava no meio do fogo-cruzado entre dois grupos rivais, os hutus e os tutsis. Em 1994, um conflito entre as facções está prestes a explodir, e a situação é ignorada pelo mundo e desprezada até mesmo pela ONU, representada pelo oficial Oliver (Nick Nolte). Quando a situação aperta e os hutus invadem Kigali, assassinando qualquer inocente que cruze seu caminho, Paul enche-se de coragem e, tomado por uma espírito de solidariedade, refugia mais de 1.200 pessoas em seu hotel, entre conhecidos e desconhecidos, salvando-os assim do genocídio. Paul sabe que, se depender do restante do planeta, Ruanda pode ser varrida do mapa – algo que os hutus parecem buscar. Pois bem, a história do filme é esta. Só isto. Simples, não?

Onde A Lista de Schindler errou, Hotel Ruanda acertou. Enquanto Spielberg estava mais preocupado em glamourizar a imagem piedosa, complacente e até mesmo divina do alemão (imagem falsa, por sinal), Terry George não se preocupa tanto em explorar a personalidade de Paul Rusesabagina. O que o diretor quer é refrescar a memória do público com relação a um dos episódios mais trágicos da recente história do mundo. O roteiro – escrito por George em parceria com Keir Pearson – disseca o desespero de Paul, seu empenho em salvar quem quer que fosse da morte e as tentativas de compreensão perante o fato de viver numa grande terra de ninguém, esquecida pelo mundo e entregue à sua própria sorte. O protagonista de Hotel Ruanda não precisa chorar sobre um broche e berrar “isto teria valido mais uma vida” para nos comover.

Claro que em muito ajudou a magnífica atuação de Don Cheadle (de Ladrão de Diamantes) como Paul. O ator, um veterano coadjuvante de luxo, nunca precisou fazer muito esforço pra mostrar que sabe atuar, e aqui finalmente tem seus dias de glória. Cheadle entrega uma atuação comedida, crível e absolutamente emocionante, capaz de gerar lágrimas nos olhos de qualquer ser humano sem coração. Outa grande atuação é a da inglesa Sophie Okonedo, também indicada ao Oscar. No papel de Tatiana, a sofrida esposa de Paul, a atriz prova que é um nome a se guardar. O que, infelizmente, já não acontece com Nick Nolte e sua interpretação no piloto-automático. Assim como Imelda Staunton no ótimo O Segredo de Vera Drake, Cheadle e Okonedo são indiscutivelmente a alma de um filme tecnicamente correto e emocionalmente perfeito.

Hotel Ruanda é, acima de tudo, um alerta. Uma fita difícil, de tema muito sério e relevante, que pergunta diretamente ao espectador: você teria culhões de arriscar sua pele pela vida de outros? Não contente com isto, Terry George cava ainda mais fundo: nós, como seres humanos, seríamos capazes de regredir ainda mais do que já regredimos? Prepare-se para sair do cinema com um belo de um peso na consciência por achar que não se esforça o suficiente para fazer com que a humanidade siga seu curso de evolução. Apesar de tudo, Hotel Ruanda nos mostra que, por mais caótica que seja a situação do mundo, sempre há esperanças. Bela mensagem para a terrível época de corrupção política que estamos vivendo.

E enquanto “cinema”, só digo uma coisa: ESQUEÇA O OSCAR. Hotel Ruanda não levou, beleza. Mas bem que merecia. De qualquer maneira, se a Academia fosse algo significativo, todos nós teríamos adorado Shakespeare Apaixonado. Ops, você gostou? Desculpe. Mas eu achei um pé nas partes-onde-o-Sol-não-bate. E a Gwyneth Paltrow é ruim até a medula. Ainda bem que eu não sou membro da Academia, senão já teria, no mínimo, enfartado metade daquele povo.

CURIOSIDADES:

• O diretor Terry George assinou vários episódios e também a produção executiva do elogiado seriado The District. George também escreveu o roteiro do marcante Em Nome do Pai, de Jim Sheridan e estrelado por Daniel Day-Lewis.

• Don Cheadle sempre foi a primeira escolha para o papel de Paul Rusesabagina. Durante o processo de captação de recursos para o longa, investidores sugeriram nomes absurdos para protagonizar Hotel Ruanda, como Wesley Snipes, Mekhi Phifer e até Will Smith, por serem nomes mais fortes no que diz respeito à bilheteria. Uma prova concreta de que executivo de Hollywood é uma raça que deveria mesmo ser extinta…

• O roteirista Keir Pearson passou um ano escrevendo a primeira versão do roteiro. Durante este tempo, Pearson precisou entrar em contato com a embaixada de Ruanda em Washington. Para sua surpresa, a mulher que o atendeu é uma sobrevivente da chacina de 1994, que só conseguiu se salvar por ter se refugiado no Hotel Milles Collines.

HOTEL RWANDA • ING/ITA/AFR • 2004
Direção de Terry George • Roteiro de Keir Pearson e Terry George
Elenco: Don Cheadle, Sophie Okonedo, Nick Nolte, Joaquin Phoenix, Cara Seymour.
121 min. • Distribuição: Imagem Filmes.

Title: Hotel Rwanda
Year: 2004
Director: Terry George
Writers: Keir Pearson & Terry George
Starring: Don Cheadle, Nick Nolte, Sophie Okonedo
Music: Afro Celt Sound System, Rupert Gregson-Williams, Andrea Guerra
Distinctions: currently #109 on IMDb’s Top 250
Length: 121 minutes
Synopsis: a hotel manager shelters Rwandan refugees
How I saw it: on video (rented from Netflix), yesterday
Subjective Rating: 8/10 (Great)
Objective Rating: 8/10 (points off for concept and cinematography) c. 3.2/4 (Very good)

Very powerful movie. Great performances. I expected to hate this movie. I expected it to be the kind of movie (like Schindler’s List) that makes itself immune to criticism because to speak badly of it would seem insensitive of the subject matter. I expected it to be a movie that had Something To Say more than a story to tell. It is decidedly not that kind of movie. There is some finger wagging in places, but it’s an unavoidable byproduct of setting the scene, and I expect that if audiences were expected to know anything about African history/current events, it could have been happily skipped. This isn’t a movie about genocide; it’s a movie about people caught in the middle of it, trying to cope and survive. If it were purely fictional, it wouldn’t be any less effective. It’s suspenseful and exciting. And it’s extremely depressing, which is why I only give it an 8/10; good as it is, I’m never going to love a movie that makes me feel crappy.  I actually had a nightmare last night that people were out to kill me and my family.  Not many movies can get into my head like that.

The 21 year old Michael Jackson masturbating while his 13 year old “friend” was on the phone line?

That’s the deeply disturbing claim made by a 42 year old British millionaire businessman, Terry George. The Britisher says he has long forgiven Jackson. Being a millionaire himself, George would seem to have no financial motivation for making the claim. The full story of his claim can be read at the Mirror UK website here.

Money quote from George:

“Although I knew what he did was wrong I believed him to be a very confused person rather than a paedophile.”

Michael Jackson along with Terry George

Terry George leapt up excitedly as the phone rang. It was 9pm and he knew exactly who it would be… the most unlikely best friend a 13-year-old boy could have.

It was none other than his pop idol Michael Jackson, who had been calling his Leeds home like clockwork for the past five months after striking up a bizarre relationship.

But this time the besotted young fan’s excitement soon turned to shock and embarrassment as Jacko’s voice crackled down the line.

“He’d ring at 9pm on the dot three times a week and we became like best friends,” Terry recalled. “But on this night he sounded different. The line went quiet and I asked if he was still there.

“Then, suddenly out of nowhere, he asked me if I masturbated and that if I did, did I use cream? I was puzzled

and said no. I said I didn’t know what he meant.

“When I paused he said, ‘Would you believe that I am doing it right now?’ and I could hear down the line he was making strange noises. It made me feel confused and uncomfortable.”

Yesterday Terry – now 42 and a multi-millionaire businessman – said: “Michael was a musical legend and genius. But what he did when I was a teenager was wrong.”

He was the first victim of the star’s obsession with children which would ultimately cripple his career.

Jacko, accused of abusing several young boys, was never convicted of any crime. But multi-million-dollar pay-offs to  families and a warped insistence that it was OK to share his bed with boys has left a permanent stain on his legacy.

It was in 1993 that young Jordan Chandler claimed in a police statement he was abused at the singer’s Neverland ranch.

Yet more disturbing allegations followed. Jacko’s obsession with children started when he befriended Terry in 1979.

They met when the youngster turned up at his hotel and asked his idol, then 21, for an interview.

“He invited me into his hotel room and we got on brilliantly,” Terry said. “As I went to leave he invited me to hang out with him the next day at the hotel.

“We would sit and giggle and laugh together. It was clear he was happier to be around children than adults and enjoyed their company.”

Before Jacko flew out he asked Terry for his telephone number so they could keep in touch.

“It made me feel special. I got a buzz knowing I had a direct line to a celebrity so I agreed and he promised he would ring me.”

Just a week later came the first of Jacko’s regular calls from America. Terry recalled: “He’d often ask if my parents were in. And when I explained that they had gone out to play bingo he would relax.

“We would chat for hours about silly stuff.He’d sing songs to me down the phone and we’d talk nonsense. We became like best friends.”

Then, only months into their friendship, Jacko abused his trust with the call encouraging Terry to pleasure himself.

“He knew that I wasn’t happy with what he had done and that I felt uncomfortable about it.”

However, they stayed in touch, taking turns to call. That ended when Terry rang up a massive bill and his parents’ line got cut off. In 1981 they met face-to-face again in the UK – but this time Jacko was frosty. “I’ve no idea why his attitude towards me had changed,” Terry said.

They lost contact soon after. Then, suddenly in 1993, Terry got a call from LA detectives on the Chandler case.

Terry said: “The police told me that they felt Michael’s behaviour started with his friendship with me.

“Although I knew what he did was wrong I believed him to be a very confused person rather than a paedophile.”

Yet the investigation which followed suggested a very different story. Dozens of children and former staff, including cancer survivor Gavin Arvizo, came forward claiming he’d abused kids.

He was accused of forcing kids to drink “Jesus Juice” – wine in Coke cans – and watch porn in a hidden room off his bedroom.

His alleged victims claimed the King of Pop pleasured himself in front of them – and insisted on “teaching” them how to do it.  

At a trial that followed, Jacko was found not guilty of all the charges.

Yet friends say the claims sent him retreating into his own secluded world.

Earlier this year in a shock call to Terry, Jacko laid bare his misery.

Terry said: “He phoned me out of the blue and we both made our peace about what had happened in the past. I’ve forgiven him for what happened.

“He told me he had been under a lot of pressure recently. I think he was a very confused man who never grew up and lived a tormented life.”

He went on: “He said that people were forced to say things that they later regret.

“But he insisted his love for children was entirely innocent.”

Terry also revealed that Jacko had taken a strong interest in the website he’d founded, Gonetoo soon.org – where users post tributes to people who die young.

“He had been on the site and said he was touched to see some of the messages,” he said. “It had left him very sad and emotional.

“It’s unbelievable that three months on he is dead. After all the strain and torment he has lived through I thought he would live forever. And I am sad that he is gone.”

EXCLUSIVE by Nick Owens 28/06/2009 of www.mirror.co.uk

2004: Hotel Rwanda di Terry George

Scrive giustamente Giancarlo Zappoli: “Ci racconta, molto semplicemente, una storia che la nostra coscienza e i nostri media hanno cancellato probabilmente perché non interessante. Già questo dovrebbe fornirci materia di riflessione sulla cosiddetta informazione”.

“Chissà perché gli orrori staliniani, l’Olocausto, gli infoibamenti o la strage di 937 mila Tutsi in Ruanda sono sempre stati consumati nel silenzio dei governi e nella distrazione della gente comune? Usa e alleati hanno promosso la crociata ancora in corso per distruggere in Iraq le ipotetiche e introvabili armi segrete, ma nel 1994 nessuno si mosse quando in un piccolo paese africano gli Hutu presero a sterminare la gente a colpi di machete”. Così scriveva Tullio Kezich su ‘Il Corriere della Sera’ (12 febbraio 2005) e in effetti il bellissimo film dell’irlandese Terry George insiste non tanto su ciò che hanno fatto i neri, ma su ciò che non hanno fatto i bianchi.

Il film che Hollywood non ha voluto ed è stato prodotto da inglesi, sudafricani e dall’italiana Mikado è efficacissimo nel ricostruire come in un thriller la tensione psicologica e il terrore a cui sono sottoposti semplici esseri umani la cui unica colpa è di appartenere a un’altra etnia: coinvolge e commuove, senza cadere mai nel retorico o nell’inutile e fastidioso patetismo.
Non ci sono immagini di massacro, di mutilazione, stupro e violenza cieca: gli episodi di terrore e morte sono più intuiti che visti e questo aumenta lo sgomento, l’indignazione, l’angoscia degli spettatori che escono dalla sala con una unica possibile domanda: “ma dove eravamo noi?”. La risposta è una sola: laddove non vi sono petrolio da sottrarre o ricchezze da saccheggiare, noi presunti esportatori di democrazia a fini umanitari ci defiliamo senza pensarci un attimo, salvo tornare a tragedia conclusa per dolerci ed assicurare che in futuro mai più accadrà qualcosa di simile. Ma a dispetto delle nostre promesse quello che è avvenuto in Ruanda sta già accadendo di nuovo in Sudan, in Congo o in qualche altro posto dove la vita umana sembra valere meno di zero.
«Tu non sei neanche un negro…sei un africano», questa terribile frase pronunciata nel film spiega più di ogni cosa come vanno le cose nel mondo… eppure, malgrado tutto, il film, mostrandoci il coraggio tranquillo di un uomo come tanti, è anche una esaltazione della dignità umana che il protagonista, Don Cheadle, esprime con una misura e un equilibrio veramente encomiabili (basterebbe la scena in cui sbagliando si rifà il nodo della cravatta a farci capire la sua eccezionale bravura). Da sottolineare anche l’interpretazione di Sophie Okonedo, veramente magnifica.

Un film che è un dovere vedere, per capire, ma soprattutto per fare un accurato e serio esame di coscienza. Sconvolgente, imperdibile.

Pubblicato su Cinemovie
tuttelerecensioni

Regia: Terry George
Cast: Don Cheadle, Sophie Okonedo, Nick Nolte, Antonio David Lyons, Cara Seymour, Joaquin Phoenix, Desmond Dube, David O’Hara, Fana Mokoena, Hakeem Kae-Kazim, Tony Kgoroge, Mosa Kaiser, Mothusi Magano
Fotografia: Robert Fraisse
Montaggio: Naomi Geraghty
Musiche: Andrea Guerra, Rupert Gregson-Williams, Jerry ‘Wonder’ Duplessis
Produzione: Kigali Releasing Limited, Endgame Entertainment, Mikado Film
Distribuzione: United Artists
Paese: Gran Bretagna (2004)
Genere: Drammatico
Durata: 121’ circa
Uscita Italia: 11 Marzo 2005
Uscita Gran Bretagna: 25 Febbraio 2005

Trama:
La vera storia di Paul Rusesabagina, il gestore di un albergo che ha avuto l’animo e l’immenso coraggio di nascondere nella sua struttura numerosi rifugiati durante la terribile guerra civile che spezzato tantissime vite innocenti in Rwanda negli Anni ‘90…

Note:
Su IMDb i premi e i riconoscimenti al film.

Jim Sheridan is pretty much the go-to guy when it comes to movies about Ireland. The Dublin-born director started things off with the brilliant My Left Foot, establishing a working relationship with Daniel Day-Lewis at the outset. The two would collaborate again with 1993’s In the Name of the Father. Their third collaboration, The Boxer, stands as a bleak and desolate piece about change and the hunger for peace in Ireland.

Day-Lewis is Danny Flynn, a member of the IRA with a promising boxing career. His life was put on hold when he was imprisoned at the age of 18 for his terrorist associations. The film picks up with Flynn finally leaving prison after 14 years. He refused to name his fellow IRA men, increasing the length of his prison term. Upon his release, Flynn is sent into a community that is attempting to negotiate peace with the British. Head IRA man Joe Hamill (Brian Cox) is trying to work out a peace agreement.

The process is far from easy, though, and Hamill has his hands full with various members of the IRA. He especially struggles with a militant faction of the group, led by Harry (Gerard McSorley). Flynn, meanwhile, rekindles a past relationship with Maggie (Emily Watson) despite her marriage to another imprisoned IRA member. They embark on a dangerous relationship, with the IRA watching their every move and threatening death for any man caught having an affair with a prisoner’s wife.

Flynn has no interest in the activities of the IRA, having long ago paid his debts and spent his energy on the “cause.” He just wants to fight and pick up his tattered boxing career, so he joins with his old manager Ike (Ken Stott) and reopens a local gym for young boxers to train. Flynn’s sense for “getting on with it” soon becomes a motivating factor for many in the community and boxing becomes an outlet for much of the pain and violence of the past. The gym is opened for both Protestants and Catholics, but it soon becomes a lightning rod for Harry’s militancy.

The fights are great fun to watch, presenting with a sort of gritty hope. Day-Lewis was trained by Barry McGuigan (the Clones Cyclone) and it shows. He is in great shape for the picture, adding a sense of realism and explosiveness to his normally subdued character. His Danny Flynn speaks in hushed tones, for the most part, choosing his words carefully even when in the presence of the love of his live. He is reserved and appears to have learned his lessons well, so the boxing becomes the real fountain of any lingering angst.

Sheridan’s movie is very carefully constructed and very bleak, very gray. The dialogue is often delivered softly and secretly, as though there is always someone watching. Sheridan effectively captures the tone of uncertainty, spreading his story out as though sudden moments of violence can disrupt the whole damn thing. We get the sense that the love affair, the fighting, and the violence in the streets are all interconnected.

The Boxer is not a perfect motion picture. It sometimes struggles with its own ambition, as though it weighs out the importance of each scene and is forced into making a choice. Sometimes the boxing can feel like a superfluous act, as though the film’s three fights really aren’t needed to develop the character of Danny Flynn. Nevertheless, Sheridan does attempt to instil the scenes with importance. One fight that ends with Flynn showing mercy on his opponent serves to showcase the true nature of this changed man.

The Boxer is an effective, bleak narrative that tells an important story of tentative peace and those who act against it for nothing but their own interests. It is a story of both selfishness and selfless love. It is well-acted, well-directed, and well-scored by Gavin Friday.

8.4/10

Trailer:

Questi post da ora in poi avranno una frequenza di 10 giorni

Tintin di Spielberg al via – FantasyMagazine

Mahhhh

Le foto di Nicole Kidman sul set romano di Nine: si gira a Cinecittà – Cineblog

Il remake musical di 8 e 1/2, Nine, sbarca a Piazza del Popolo, ecco le foto con Sophia Loren e Daniel Day-Lewis – Cineblog

Promette bene. Io mi sono innamorato dell’originale alla prima visione

Roland Emmerich porterà sullo schermo Fondazione? – Fantascienza.com

Prima di leggere i libri devo riprendere questo articolo…

Jamie Bell e Daniel Craig in Tintin – ComingSoon.it

Non so cosa pensare di questo film, anche perché non conosco i libri

Terry Gilliam pronto a girare Zero Theorem? – ComingSoon.it

Mi aspetto grandi cose…

Il Cavaliere Oscuro: il sequel nel 2011 – Cineblog

Johnny Depp?

Batman: terzo film in arrivo nel 2011? – Movieplayer

Almeno c’è una data d’uscita

Inglorious Basterds sarà a Cannes 2009 – ComingSoon.it

Apertura ad effetto

Anica: troppo pochi film in tv – ANSA.it

Ma va?

Rinviato 2012 di Emmerich – ComingSoon.it

Sono curioso su questo film…

Terry George scrive Inside Man 2 – ComingSoon.it

Uno con le palle a leggere la pagina a lui relativa su Wikipedia

Il mistero degli Hobbit – ComingSoon.it

Se vogliono fare le cose per bene è naturale sentire il cast dei precedenti film…

Will Smith nei panni del capitano Nemo? – Fantascienza.com

Spero in un flop

Emmerich dirigerà la Trilogia della Fondazione – ComingSoon.it

Mi dicono che è intraducibile per il cinema…

Dominic Monaghan torna in The Hobbit? – Movieplayer

Naturale che lo chiamino…

Nuovo spot tv in arrivo da Watchmen – Cineblog

Odio sti video..

Spike Lee conferma il sequel di Inside Man – Cineblog

Uno dei pochi sequel che aspetto

Gran Torino: il trailer italiano del nuovo Clint Eastwood – Cineblog

Forse per lui torno al cinema

I mostri di Spike Jonze in Where The Wild Things Are – Cineblog

Film curioso

Terry Giliam ci riprova con Don Chisciotte – Cineblog

Speriamo bene…

Mario Monicelli dice la sua sul prequel di Amici Miei – Cineblog

Diplomatico, ma vorrei sapere cosa ha pensato appena venuta fuori la notizia del remake

Pace fatta per Watchmen – FantasyMagazine

Torta spartita 2

Watchmen, accordo tra Fox e Warner Bros – ComingSoon.it

Spero non sia un flop – Torta spartita 1

A Bright Shining Lie (1998)

Obwohl der Film eine Low-Budget-Produktion ist, kann er sich sehen lassen. Die Schauspieler machen einen guten Job und die Herangehensweise an die Thematik ist lobenswert. Nur der Film will zu viele Themen ansprechen und vernachlässigt somit die nötige Tiefe.

6/10

LEIDER KEINE BILDER

LEIDER KEIN TRAILER

Once you find out what happened in Rwanda, you’ll never forget. Oscar�(r) nominee* Don Cheadle (Traffic) gives “the performance of his career in this extraordinarily powerful” (The Hollywood Reporter) and moving true story of one man’s brave stance against savagery during the 1994 Rwandan conflict. Sophie Okonedo (Dirty Pretty Things) co-stars as the loving wife who challenges a good man to become a great man. As his country descends into madness, five-star-hotel manager Paul Rusesabagina (Cheadle) sets out to save his family. But when he sees that theworld will not intervene in the massacre of minority Tutsis, he finds the courage to open his hotelto more than 1,200 refugees. Now, with a rabid militia at the gates, he must use his well-honed grace, flattery and cunning to protect his guests from certain death. *2004: Actor, Hotel Rwanda

Solidly built around a subtle yet commanding performance by Don Cheadle, Hotel Rwanda emerged as one of the most highly-praised dramas of 2004. In a role that demands his quietly riveting presence in nearly every scene, Cheadle plays real-life hero Paul Rusesabagina, a hotel manager in the Rwandan capital of Kigali who in 1994 saved 1,200 Rwandan “guests” from certain death during the genocidal clash between tribal Hutus, who slaughtered a million victims, and the horrified Tutsis, who found safe haven or died. Giving his best performance since his breakthrough role in Devil in a Blue Dress, Cheadle plays Rusesabagina as he really was during the ensuing chaos: “an expert in situational ethics” (as described by critic Roger Ebert), doing what he morally had to do, at great risk and potential sacrifice, with an understanding that wartime negotiations are largely a game of subterfuge, cooperation, and clever bribery. Aided by a United Nations official (Nick Nolte), he worked a saintly miracle, and director Terry George (Some Mother’s Son) brings formidable social conscience to bear on a true story you won’t soon forget. –Jeff Shannon

Hotel Rwanda is available at Amazon for $9.99. To Order click here
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Other Products of Interest

• Crash (Widescreen Edition)
• The Last King of Scotland (Widescreen Edition)
• Blood Diamond (Two-Disc Special Edition)
• Schindler’s List (Widescreen Edition)
• Sometimes in April

In the Name of the Father (1993)

★★★

Jim Sheridan’s In the Name of the Father is based on true events and centers on the character of Gerry Conlon (Daniel Day-Lewis), a young working-class Northern Irishman who was framed by his own government, along with a few other “accomplices,” for the IRA bombing of a Guildford pub in the 1970s. That said, It would be misleading to call the film a biopic of its leading man; it is, rather, a picture about the dangers of any police state where innocent people are forcibly made criminals in order to quench the bloodlust of a terrified, vengeful public.

In this way, the film has obvious implications in present-day America. We live in a country that has refined this concept by focusing its rage on foreign prisoners in places like Abu Ghraib and Guantánamo Bay. What’s more, it’s an approach that has fallen from almost unanimous favor among a populace incited to vengeful zealotry by a horrific attack on its own soil to such unpopularity that both of our presidential candidates have felt compelled to unequivocally state that one of their first acts as commander-in-chief would be the closing of Guantánamo. It’s also worth noting that Gareth Peirce (played here by Emma Thompson), a civil rights lawyer who represented the Conlons during their appeal, has gone on to serve as the counsel for British Muslims who were held without charge at Guantánamo.

But Great Britain in the case of the Irish Troubles decided — felt it was forced, in fact — to take action against some of its own citizens in order to quell a populace that was, as Gareth Peirce quite rightly puts it, “baying for blood.” It was, consequently, a far more personal matter for most Britons than the desire of the easily distracted American people to see its perceived attackers punished, since for us the drama unfolds almost entirely on foreign soil and with foreign players.

As the film is at pains to point out, much of the British populace in the early 1970s lived somewhere that was more than once well within earshot of a bomb blast — and not just in Belfast either. The choice to open the film immediately, even before the opening credits, with the bombing that Gerry Conlon and his hapless co-defendants will eventually be charged with underscores this. You can practically hear the British public “baying” in the background of every scene, and it may well be that this is what writer-director Jim Sheridan had in mind by underlying many of the early prison scenes between Conlon and his father Giuseppe (Pete Postlethwaite), also wrongly imprisoned, with the offscreen shouts of their fellow prisoners (who, significantly, are just as vocal in their hatred for their perceived Irish attackers as the enraged citizens who harangue them in the early courtroom scenes).

This is all a very long-winded way of saying that In the Name of the Father deserves points for unswervingly making this statement about public hysteria (another phrase which is, incidentally, used at a key moment in one of the courtroom scenes, albeit in a public atmosphere far more sympathetic to the protagonists). What I’m not inclined to give the filmmakers credit for –- maybe I’m just being cynical -– is the irony in the way the British public is shown to come around to supporting the accused “Guildford Four” after calling so vociferously for their punishment when they are first accused.

The way the film frames this public change of heart seems meant to do little else than underscore the long-awaited and dramatic triumph of justice at the film’s end, but, whatever the intention, it wouldn’t be hard to put forth a reading of this film as a statement about the willingness of the public to believe whomever is shouting the loudest. I might even go so far as to say that this is my reading of it, though as a liberal American citizen in 2008 who’s long been disgusted by his government’s disregard for the civil rights of its prisoners and the willingness of the public to accept it, I’m probably more than a little predisposed to that way of thinking. The film’s frequent invocation of the British Prevention of Terrorism Act, which allowed the government to detain suspects for up to seven days without charges, struck a particular chord with me (and for the record, this little legislative gem is still in force in the U.K. So much for progress).

It might be a little strange that this aspect of the film figured so prominently in my understanding of it this time; I saw it once before a few years ago and don’t remember reflecting on it at all (I also remember liking it a lot more). The British people as the character of Outraged Masses only literally figure in the film’s two extended courtroom sequences. In the first, they call for swift and severe punishment and lustily cheer the guilty verdict; at the second, which concludes the film and neatly wraps the story up for us, they even more enthusiastically applaud Gerry Conlon’s exoneration. They are, however, constantly present by proxy in the rest of the film; they are in the faces of the unscrupulous detectives who, knowing that they must produce a cadre of acceptable Irish targets for the public’s frustrated fury, extract confessions from Gerry and his friends by torture; later, when the tide of public opinion has shifted, they are represented by Peirce, the archetypal solitary, restless lawyer who conducts a lengthy and perhaps hopeless campaign to expose the injustice of a government that stood blithely by while its own citizens were tortured and thrown to the dogs for a crime they didn’t commit.

I can’t fault the film for this fickleness in and of itself, since it seems to me a pretty accurate depiction of the way public opinion works. It could have certainly been handled more smoothly, though; the filmmakers fill in the blanks with a few brief shots of demonstrations in support of the Guildford Four that rather clumsily usher in the film’s final act. This receptiveness of an angry public to anything its government tells it is also the reason I don’t understand why the chief’s chief antagonist and architect of the framing, played by Corin Redgrave, is portrayed as an unrepentant, smirking sadist. The point would have been made a lot better if we could instead have seen him — and the institution he represents — as a misguided agent of corruption brought down by the absurd lengths he allows himself to go to in the interest of giving the people an effigy to burn. Maybe Jim Sheridan didn’t think we would believe it if this was the case, that in order for an injustice this great to be carried out there has to be a great, malevolent evil at work, not just Machiavellian detachment. What’s scary is that the latter is more often the case — horrible evil isn’t necessary for acts of horrible evil to be carried out; I wish the film recognized this.

This tendency to moral neatness is one of the main problems I had with In the Name of the Father on this viewing (like I said, I saw it once before a few years ago, and came away powerfully stirred — not so this time). The film seems to be operating under the belief that it spends plenty of time tooling around in moral gray areas with its hero and protagonist. He begins the film as a harmless but worthless petty thief, the kind of man-child whose instinct upon seeing a woman drop her keys on the sidewalk is not to return them but to break into her apartment and steal from her.

Conlon’s redemption comes in the person of his father Giuseppe, whose steadfastly high moral standards he has resented and tried to ignore his entire life, but who he is finally forced to confront when they share a prison cell for more than a decade. Both begin the film in roles that are pretty much standard issue for dysfunctional father-son teams — chronic disappointment on the part of the father, whose abiding affection for his son is made tragic by his distrust of him; resentment on the part of the son, who, we are made to understand, chose a delinquent lifestyle in order to prove to his father that he really was no good, a lost cause. As they spend the better part of their sentences locked in the same cell, thrown even closer together by the instinctive hatred of the other inmates for accused Irish terrorists, their relationship, which is obviously meant to be the film’s central focus, supposedly develops into respect, at least on the son’s side, but this development happens in a way that, despite the excellence of both performances, is muddied by the storytelling.

The film’s principal weakness, I think, is this entire middle section, which makes up the bulk of the movie and feels much longer than it is (in fact, it’s shorter than the film’s opening section that concerns Gerry’s conviction and confession, which is much better handled and flies by). Narratively it’s a mess, and I spent most of the 45 minutes or so that it took up wishing that the film would just get on with it. I’m not usually one for criticizing a film’s choice to stand still and ruminate on its situation rather than simply moving through plot points — I think I actually prefer slow films — but it’s different with a picture like this, particularly when you’re dealing with a classic “wrong man” scenario and you’ve chosen to present your film at least partly as a legal drama (though one thing I will give the film is that in many ways it transcends genre). Even more particularly, when this scenario is introduced so explosively — the scene of Gerry’s confession is undoubtedly the most powerful in the film — the narrative can only have strength when it’s forcefully propelled. A clever writer or director who wants more layers of meaning should be able to find ways to shade them in while the story continues on its way. For proof of this, you need only turn to the classic “wrong man” pictures of Alfred Hitchcock — The 39 Steps, Strangers on a Train, and even the comparatively light-hearted North by Northwest.

Take for instance, an encounter with a small but key character, Joe McAndrew (played quite well by Don Barker), an IRA leader who shows up during the Conlons’ prison stay and reveals that he was the perpetrator of the crime for which Gerry and his father have been framed. He is shown first as a figure of sympathy, since we learn immediately that he confessed himself to the authorities and let them know unequivocally that they had imprisoned innocent people. But Giuseppe Conlon wants nothing to do with anyone who’s planted a bomb, even when McAndrew pledges himself to help exonerate him and his son. We quickly learn — that is, we’re led to understand rather than simply shown, a biased insistence on the way the audience is given information that this movie can’t let go of — that Giuseppe’s instincts were right; McAndrew, while continuing to aid the Conlons, begins a despicably murderous campaign against the English prison masters. It is clear by Gerry Conlon’s resulting disillusionment that this is meant as a turning point in his character, where he decides to put the irresponsibility of his past behind him and join his father’s tireless campaign to clear their names, but the whole experience rings hollow. The film doesn’t provide sufficient reason for McAndrew’s violence to beget this kind of sea change in Gerry’s character, and I couldn’t help but wish the time had been better spent.

Wouldn’t it have better spent, for instance, by focusing on the campaign of the Conlons’ lawyer, Gareth Peirce, who is played so well by Emma Thompson? She appears almost out of nowhere almost 90 minutes into the film, although we’ve been aware of her due to the fact that the story has been told in flashback through a tape-recorded testimonial Gerry has made for her and serves as a rather weak voice-over narration for the story. Bizarrely, the film provides no convincing background for the passion with which she tirelessly and single-handedly takes on the Conlons’ case. There are no scenes involving her with both Gerry and Giuseppe, and although the film is at pains to explain that the illness that eventually kills Giuseppe prevents him from leaving his cell, the narrative is missing out on an opportunity to enrich the film’s central narrative thread. It would, I think, have led to a much more stirring payoff at the film’s climax, which, while affecting, seems, like Gareth herself, to come totally out of left field.

And about that climactic courtroom scene where Gerry and his co-defendants are released. It’s triumphant, no doubt, but it’s robbed by much of its poignancy by how poorly put together it is. Why, for instance, lend so much emotional weight to the exoneration of Conlon’s co-defendants when they’ve disappeared from the last hour of the film only to suddenly reappear in the final scene? It gives the climax a touch of one of the most annoying features of a flawed “based on a true story” film – showing what happened for no other reason than this is what happened, even if the audience has been given no real reason to care as much as the film seems to care. And, even if it’s accurate, why interrupt the scene with a brief recess where almost nothing happens and Gareth and Gerry discuss something that adds a totally unnecessary wrinkle to the proceedings that turns out to be essentially inconsequential, and when it’s already been made clear what the trial’s outcome is going to be? It’s one of the most exasperating failures of pacing I’ve ever seen on film.

All these criticisms aside, I can’t bring myself to deny that In the Name of the Father is at the very least a decent film. It’s saved by a number of things. First, the design is excellent, and if it looks a little drab and unsaturated, it only serves as an accurate reflection of the way the Conlons’ lives, both in prison and at their home in Belfast, must have felt. Second, it’s well photographed, and the fact that it maintains visual interest in such a gray environment — particularly the long, monotonous stretches in prison — is a feat unto itself.

Mostly, though, the film is buoyed by its first-rate acting. Day-Lewis, Postlethwaite, and Thompson are uniformly excellent, and the small roles are generally well-cast, too. Day-Lewis, perhaps because he is playing, for once, a man who is, while not stupid, largely unhindered by a complex intellectual life, has almost none of the over-studied bravado common to even his best performances, where you can practically see the method oozing out of the pulsing veins at his temples (the one exception is a solo scene – an Oscar bait scene if I ever saw one – towards the film’s end, involving an unwound length of tape wrapped around his head and a lot of smashed furniture; you’ll see what I mean if you watch it). Pete Postlethwaite plays off him wonderfully, his stern stillness making for great counterpoint, the anguish caused by the unceasing war between his genuine love for his son and his nagging distrust of and disappointment in him barely suppressed and etched in every corner of his performance. And Emma Thompson is a firecracker as their outraged lawyer, although her scenes seem written and edited in such a way that Sheridan wants nothing more than to get on to the parts of the film that interest him more; like I said, her role should have been bigger, not only because Thompson is too good of an actor for a role with this much potential to be so slimly written, but because the film would have benefited from it as a whole.

The bottom line: In the Name of the Father is worth watching because its actors and its style save it from banality and make it a genuinely emotional experience, but it could have been so much more.

EXTRAS

Best Scene The Confession. Would’ve been more effective without all the intercutting with the arrest of Conlon’s family, but emotionally and narratively it’s the most consistently powerfully part of the film.

Best Line Reading Gareth Peirce: “…whose only crime was that he was bloody well Irish!” The film’s cri de coeur and Emma’s one shining moment; two hours of righteous fury concentrated into one outburst.

Este filme conta a história de duas famílias que são postas à prova pelo “destino”. Uma que estava caminhando com tudo perfeito até que perde um dos filhos num grave acidente e a outra que buscava se restrutrurar após a separação e que involuntariamente causa esse terrível acidente…

O filme se passa em torno das reações dessas duas famílias e contrasta algumas maneiras de reagir a essa situação difícil que infelizmente acontece na vida de algumas pessoas… (Acredito que situações difíceis existem na vida de todos nós, mas o mais importa é o que diz aquele ditado: “Não importa o que a vida fez para a gente, o que importa é o que a gente faz com o que a vida fez para a gente”.)

Possui algumas cenas forte emocionalmente, mas que servem criar o clima de suspense…

Será que diante de uma forte dor é necessário sempre buscarmos o culpado, a qualquer preço, para assim aliviármos essa dor??? Será que essa opção não nos afastará das outras pessoas que precisarão muito mais do nosso apoio??? Será que não existem outros caminhos para aliviármos esta dor???

O que a busca por vingança nos trará??? Será que saíremos ganhando??? É claro que os culpados sempre devem ser punidos, mas buscar a justiça com as próprias mãos nem sempre é o melhor caminho.

“Antes de sair em busca de vingança, cave duas covas.” (Provérbio Chinês)

Atuação muito boa dos atores Joaquin Phoenix, Jennifer Connelly e Mark Ruffalo…

Informações Técnicas
Título no Brasil:  Traídos Pelo Destino
Título Original:  Reservation Road
País de Origem:  EUA
Gênero:  Drama
Classificação etária: 12 anos
Tempo de Duração: 102 minutos
Ano de Lançamento:  2007
Estréia no Brasil: 28/03/2008
Estúdio/Distrib.:  Paris Filmes
Direção:  Terry George (mesmo diretor do Filme “Hotel Ruanda“)

Trailer

Good news arrived at the Toronto Film Festival where director Spike Lee was present to introduce his new movie ¨Miracle at St. Anna¨. Spike told the press about his plans to bring back Dalton Russell (played by Clive Owen) and the rest of the criminal crew that made Denzel Washington and Jodie Foster cry back in “Inside Man” (2006). The sequel is in the works and it seems that screenwriter Terry George (Reservation Road, Hotel Rwanda) have replaced Russell Gewirtz who wrote the first film.

While promoting his new World War 2 movie Miracle At St. Anna, director Spike Lee has confirmed that things are moving forward for his planned sequel to Inside Man, his most successful movie to date. According to Lee, screenwriter Terry George (Reservation Road) is currently in talks with Universal Pictures to pen the script, which will feature the original film’s characters.

Personally, I have trouble figuring out how an Inside Man sequel would work. Another heist by the same crew, being investigated by the same cop? I guess we’ll find out when the movie is released come 2010.

Source

Ethan y Grace Learner (Joaquin Phoenix y Jennifer Connelly) vuelven de un concierto escolar donde Josh, su pequeño hijo, toca el cello. Ha sido un hermoso y agradable día y todos, junto a la pequeña Emma, viajan por la carretera de regreso al hogar.
Esa misma noche Dwight Arno (Mark Ruffalo) regresa con su hijo Lukas de un partido de baseball de los Red Socks. Dwight, ofuscado por la demora, corre a toda velocidad por la misma carretera que los Learner. Debe llegar rápido a dejar a Lukas con su ex esposa Ruth (Mira Sorvino) y una vez más va atrasado.
Frente a una estación de servicio los Learner paran. Josh sale del auto dejando a la pequeña Emma sola.
Dwight, viajando a toda velocidad, atiende el celular.
Josh cruza el camino.
Dwight distraído no lo ve.

Camino a la redención es una de aquellas pocas películas que te hace cuestionar acerca de las actitudes de los seres humanos, sus temores, su dolor y la impotencia ante la pérdida… de un hijo como de la tuición de otro.
¿Qué harías si te encontraras cualquiera de ambas dolientes situaciones? Esa es la inquietante pregunta que no dejas de hacerte durante el film.

Joaquín Phoenix es el profesor Ethan Learner, quien luchará hasta encontrar al culpable ede la muerte de su hijo.

Y es que Camino a la redención no juega con blancos y negros, sino que te imbuye en toda la gama de grises de una situación particular. Aquí no encontrarás ni buenos ni malos, sino seres humanos, y es ese el gran acierto de esta película. De hecho, lo más inquietante es precisamente el identificarte tanto con Ethan como con Dwight. Qué hacer te preguntas constantemente, mientras observas el devenir de dudas y retribuciones.

Dwight Arno es el abogado que tiene que optar entre hacer lo correcto y perder la tuición de su hijo, o el vivir por siempre tormentado.

Camino a la redención es una de las mejores películas en lo que va del año. Basada en el best seller del mismo nombre (Reservation road, en inglés) de John Burnham Schwartz. La versión fílmica, adaptada por el mismo Burnham Schwartz junto su director Terry George (Hotel Ruanda), utiliza una pacífica y calma pequeña ciudad del estado de Connecticut, donde todo es tranquilo y netamente norteamericano (las banderas en la calle principal y sus niños correteando por el parque casi nos marea de tanto patriotismo); al parecer nada malo puede suceder en una comunidad tan amable. Dicho escenario juega positivamente otorgando una sabia quietud en plena tormenta.

Grace (Jennifer Connelly) deberá luchar por sobreponerse y así no perder a su familia.

Este duro camino, que lleva a las profundidades del dolor humano, cuenta con dos grandes interpretaciones. Joaquin Phoenix (Walk the Line, We Own the Night) sigue consagrándose en papeles de carácter, mientras que el siempre invisible Mark Ruffalo (All the King’s Men, Zodiac) nos brinda una actuación magistral. Ambos están a la par y en pantalla se nota esa química brindándonos escenas impecables.

La siempre potente Jennifer Connelly (Blood Diamond, Little Children) se ve relegada un poco en pantalla, pero su participación no se ve mermada. Logra llevar la contraparte en un matrimonio que va directo al abismo. Ella es el equilibrio.

Sin embargo la poca aparición de Mira Sorvino (Final Cut, Gods and Generals) valía la participación de una actriz poco conocida. Poco se luce su personaje y muy poco aporta a la trama no dejando de ser importante.

Camino a la redención es un gran estreno de este año. Es una película humana sin otro efecto que el de permitir al espectador el pensar y cuestionarse su propio actuar.

Muy recomendada.

Estreno: jueves 28 de agosto.

Antes de ver Camino a la redención había leído críticas muy negativas en distintos medios estadounidense y esperaba encontrarme con un producto lamentable. Pero resulta que a medida en que la historia se desarrollaba antes mis ojos fui encontrando muchas virtudes y pocos defectos en este drama familiar que se construye sobre los conflictos de la ética, la venganza y la culpa. La verdad es que esta nueva realización del irlandés Terry George —autor de Hotel Rwanda— retoma un asunto que le interesa —la responsabilidad individual— y que ya había trabajado en filmes previos. Para mi sorpresa, encontré un film redondo, bien construido, con unas actuaciones descollantes y un final inesperado pero lógico.

Camino a la redención establece temprano el conflicto principal: un padre divorciado regresa de un juego de béisbol con su hijo y accidentalmente atropella con su camioneta a un niño. El miedo lo domina, no sabe qué hacer y se da a la fuga. Su hijo no se ha dado cuenta del problema. En el sitio del suceso cunde el dolor y la desesperación en el padre, la madre y la hermanita del niño muerto. Es una situación absurda con preguntas sin respuestas. A partir de este hecho, el guión de John Burnham Schwartz y Terry Georgen propone la comprensión de cada uno de estos dos padres. Por una parte está Ethan Learner, el profesor universitario tranquilo y sensato que trastoca su vida en una afán desesperado de encontrar al asesino de su hijo. Por la otra se ubica Dwight Arno, el abogado divorciado que intenta rehacer su vida y mantener el amor de su hijo y que ahora se encuentra en una situación íntima que le destroza el alma. Al primer padre lo mueve el deseo de venganza. Al segundo lo atormenta el sentimiento de culpa. Ninguno está en sus cabales. Cada cual vive un dolor implacable y desarrollan conductas patológicas.

Son dos personajes masculinos complejos, trabajados con precisión y comprensión. George rehuye las posiciones moralistas y contrasta las dos posturas en una trama que tiende —poco a poco y de forma inevitable— una trampa a ambos hombres. La trama se circunscribe a localidad donde todos se conocen y en la que todos están relacionados. El profesor universitario contrata al bufete de abogados del hombre que atropelló a su hijo para que haga lo que la policía no ha logrado: encontrar al asesino. Dwight se enfrenta de esta manera al hombre que lo busca —sin saber que lo tiene enfrente— pero sobre todo se confronta consigo mismo. Vive su dolor y el del otro padre. En ese sentido masculino de la historia intervienen sendas mujeres: una esposa que observa cómo su marido se sumerge en los pantanos de la locura y una ex esposa que se ha convertido en la mirada crítica que pende sobre el abogado. El tema que sostiene toda la trama es la dimensión afectiva de la paternidad. El guión explora una temática que usualmente se delega en la mujer y en la fuerza de la maternidad. En este caso no. George busca esa característica de hombres en medio de la tragedia y la desolación.

Un drama de este tipo debe sustentarse en la representación de sus personajes de una manera convincente. Es lo que hacen Mark Ruffalo como Dwight Arno y Joaquín Phoenix como Ethan Learner. Uno y otro actor edifican sus caracteres sobre la base del conflicto interno más que de las acciones de la trama. Cada cual plantea una mirada interna, personal, instransferible. Ofrecen un trabajo actoral impecable, secundados por dos actrices ganadoras del Oscar: Jennifer Connelly y Mira Sorvino. Con este cuadro interpretativo la historia se potencia de forma contundente.

El final de Camino a la redención podría ser ejemplo de una resolución dramática que alcanza un climax que no anuncia una salidad coherente y parece que la trama se le va de las manos al realizador, pero he aquí que con destreza la historia regresa al control de Terry George, quien la maneja muy bien. Sabe resolver su desenlace sin moralismos ni moralejas. Un film de mucha fuerza con grandes actuaciones y una excelente dirección.

CAMINO A LA REDENCIÓN (“Reservation road”), EEUU, 2007. Dirección: Terry George. Guión: John Burnham Schwartz y Terry George, sobre la novela del primero. Producción: Nick Wechsler y A. Kitman Ho. Fotografía: John Lindley. Montaje: Naomi Geraghty. Música: Mark Isham. Elenco: Joaquin Phoenix, Mark Ruffalo, Jennifer Connelly, Mira Sorvino, Elle Fanning, Eddie Alderson y Sean Curley. Distribución: Cinematográfica Blancica.

Durante 1994 tuvo lugar el genocidio de Ruanda, uno de los hechos de barbarie más significativos desde la Segunda Guerra Mundial y uno de los más vergonzosos episodios para una comunidad internacional más preocupada por salvaguardar sus propios intereses que por impedir la muerte del millón largo de personas (de etnia tutsi, pero también hutus moderados) que perdió la vida en aquellos trágicos días, o limitar la extensión posterior del conflicto a países vecinos como Burundi o Zaire (hoy de nuevo Congo), que no escatimaron medios en añadir víctimas a la cuenta de resultados a la que occidente contribuyó con su incapacidad o falta de voluntad, según el caso, para atajar una situación que se les fue de las manos, una responsabilidad que es doble en este caso y que se remonta a los días en que Congo, Ruanda y Burundi eran gestionados por la cruel e inhumana administración colonial belga, inventora de unas etnias que no existían con el fin de crear una estructura “burguesa” o “aristocrática” a la que inundar de comodidades y bienes materiales que la ayudara a dominar al resto de la población en un territorio tan extenso. De este modo, y teniendo en cuenta un dato tan objetivo como era el número de vacas que cada familia tenía en propiedad, el gobierno belga, uno de los más criminales de la Historia en su aventura colonial africana, dividió poblaciones que siempre habían convivido, amigos, familias e incluso matrimonios en etnias diferentes repartiendo un denominado “carnet étnico” que decía si uno era hutu o tutsi (así se crean esas naciones en las que muchas personas en occidente dicen creer como en dogmas de fe y que han defendido, y en algunos casos defienden aún hoy, con la guerra y la violencia, un acto arbitrario, una categorización de seres humanos cuyo último criterio a aplicar es precisamente la Humanidad, poniendo por delante cuestiones raciales, étnicas, lingüísticas, religiosas o culturales).

Esta producción sudafricana dirigida por Terry George aborda un hecho real en el marco del genocidio ruandés. El responsable de un hotel (magnífico Don Cheadle en un derroche interpretativo lleno de matices), impulsado por su deseo de proteger a su propia familia de los excesos violentos que recorrían el país de parte a parte, fue acogiendo en las reducidas dimensiones del edificio y sus instalaciones anexas primero a las familias de los empleados, luego a los amigos, y finalmente a todo aquel que, sin que importara lo más mínimo si se trataba de hutus o tutsis, huyera de la guerra y la muerte. La película retrata aquellos hechos de manera convincente, con una muy creíble recomposición de los sucesos tanto estética como narrativa, y sin caer en efectismos permite trasladar al espectador la zozobra, la incertidumbre, la angustia y el clima de violencia incontenible que como una ola arrasó con todo. A partir de ahí, la película, centralizando la narración en las difíciles circunstancias del encierro (constantes amenazas de asalto, suministro de provisiones y víveres, cuestiones de higiene y hacinamiento, la fragilidad de la resistencia emocional, etc.) retrata de forma verosímil el clima imperante en el país, los motivos profundos del estallido violento, el odio racial, las matanzas, la atmósfera opresiva de la caza sistemática del hombre, mujer o niño, y también el papel de la comunidad internacional (sobre todo encarnada en el papel del militar canadiense de los cascos azules interpretado por Nick Nolte, prisionero de la burocracia por un lado y de los intereses de países poderosos que limitaron el papel de la ONU de forma letal para cientos de miles de personas, y en el del fotógrafo que interpreta Joaquin Phoenix, el bienintencionado occidental que vive aterrorizado en un infierno de barbarie y carga contra la miseria moral de un occidente que lo permite e incluso lo alienta). Ése quizá sea el talón de aquiles de la película, los límites políticamente correctos (para occidente) del ejercicio divulgativo que supone el film sobre el genocidio ruandés. Porque la película, no sólo omite el surgimiento arbitrario y absurdo de una división étnica impuesta por los colonizadores europeos, sino que también pasa por encima de los intereses de potencias como Estados Unidos y Francia por su rivalidad económica en la zona de los Grandes Lagos africanos. Lejos de ser una guerra tribal, el conflicto tenía poderosas connotaciones económicas, comerciales y de gestión de influencias geopolíticas en las que Francia y Estados Unidos mantenían posiciones enfrentadas y que provocaron que el conflicto llegara a extremos de insólita crueldad (inolvidables imágenes las de las muertes a machetazos o los incendios de edificios con gente dentro) sin que la comunidad internacional enviara tropas que contuvieran las masacres y sin que la ONU, paralizada por su propia inutilidad cuando de enfrentarse a los poderosos se trata, pudiera hacer algo más que gritar en el desierto.

Brillante, emotiva, verosímil, la película nos acerca una historia que contada de cualquier otro modo supondría una dosis inadmisible de barbarie y crueldad, centrándose en un aspecto humano que contrasta con el ambiente primario de violencia sin freno que primó en el conflicto. Aunque la cinta bordea la estética televisiva, de forma que tenemos muy presentes los reportajes de los informativos (lo cual puede restarle, aunque parezca contraproducente, intensidad en su impacto en el espectador), la recreación de los hechos resulta convincente a pesar de algunos cabos sueltos y la falta de concreción acerca del papel internacional en los acontecimientos. Por otro lado, las interpretaciones son magníficas y en algunos casos, como sucede con la actriz protagonista (Sophie Okonedo), sus expresiones y actitudes resultan tan desarmantes como la actitud irracionalmente violenta de la mayoría de los cazadores de hombres que pululan por la ciudad buscando a quien matar, o como las crueles y venenosas arengas que desde la radio alentaban a continuar con la sangría.

Una película que nos lleva además a reflexionar acerca del concepto de colonialismo, neocolonialismo y democracia, nos hace preguntarnos si realmente la descolonización existió o se mantiene hoy, y sobre la idea que en occidente tenemos de lo que sucede en África. La descolonización política no fue acompañada de una descolonización económica, que las elites de los nuevos países, impuestas por o conniventes con el antiguo poder colonial, siguieron manteniendo en beneficio propio y de las multinacionales occidentales. Las políticas de occidente en África vienen impuestas por los intereses de sus empresas, y de hecho, son las que realmente sustentan los avances económicos y políticos en esos territorios o bien los cortan de raíz. No hay régimen dictatorial en África que no venga impuesto por un determinado interés occidental, de igual modo que no ha habido un movimiento regeneracionista en cualquier país africano que no haya venido seguido de represión, muertes y guerras civiles en las que los causantes no hayan sido dictadores africanos mantenidos en el poder por países occidentales, cuyos intereses salvaguardan. A esta corriente responde la irrupción de China en el mapa geoestratégico africano, un país que a cambio de petróleo ofrece asistencia tecnológica sin hacer preguntas en cuanto al nivel de respeto de los derechos humanos, y que se ha ido introduciendo en muchos casos como socio preferente.

Pero no sólo occidente es culpable y los africanos son unas pobres vícitimas. También éstos tienen su responsabilidad. Las clases dirigentes criadas a la luz del colonialismo o las elites revolucionarias corrompidas tras su llegada al poder hacen que se amasen inimaginables fortunas en manos de políticos corruptos y dictadores criminales: ahí están los negocios inmobiliarios de Obiang en Estados Unidos, las multimillonarias cuentas de Mobutu en Suiza, la extrema riqueza de Robert Mugabe en Zimbabwe, o por ejemplo, los cinco mil millones de dólares que llegó a amasar en tan sólo cinco años en el poder el antiguo dictador de Nigeria, fallecido, curiosamente, por sobredosis de viagra. Criaturas mantenidas y cebadas por occidente, pero consentidas por un poder militar y político que aspira a llevarse las migajas, mientras el destino de los ciudadanos es servir de carnaza o de brazo criminal cuando cambia el juego de intereses de occidente en África, un continente que, en su mayor parte, sigue siendo una colonia y al que nadie interesa ayudar, sólo a los ciudadanos bienintencionados de occidente que desconocen lo que sus gobiernos o las empresas que producen las marcas de los bienes de consumo que compran, hacen en África. Como decía un titular de un diario de Tanzania: “las ayudas al desarrollo de África es dinero que entregan los pobres de los países ricos a los ricos de los países pobres”.

Come si deve giudicare un film come Hotel Rwanda? La coproduzione italo-canadese-sudafricana, diretta dall’irlandese Terry George e passata in rassegna all’ultimo festival di Berlino non spicca particolarmente per originalità di messa in scena, scrittura, regia; eppure si differenzia dal prodotto medio, ugualmente non troppo brillante, perché è un film “di denuncia”. Hotel Rwanda è stato girato per ricordare al grande pubblico la tragedia rwandese, ovvero quel milione di morti causati dalla pulizia etnica degli Hutu e dalla reazione sanguinaria dei Tutsi a metà degli anni Novanta. Morti che non hanno interessato molto le nazioni occidentali, che se ne sono tranquillamente lavate le mani e sono state a guardare mentre un genocidio terribile si compiva nel paese africano (ex colonia del Belgio). L’Africa, la cui popolazione può pure morire di fame e guerre, è il rimosso della società globale, il luogo dell’oblio, un continente che serve soprattutto a far vendere armi (la Francia ha sempre venduto armi ai guerriglieri Hutu) e a far da cloaca massima al mondo… Insomma, è giusto che un film come Hotel Rwanda sia stato prodotto, visto che l’informazione non fa sempre il suo dovere e non lo fanno neppure lettori e cittadini (assieme a Gente o TVsorrisi e canzoni in edicola vendono anche giornali che di queste cose se ne occupano, ma sulle tirature non c’è paragone).

Però Hotel Rwanda non è un film memorabile. La vicenda, una storia vera, è quella del rwaundese Paul Rusesabagina, che è riuscito a mettere in salvo 1200 persone da morte certa solo perché era direttore di un albergo a quattro stelle, dove ricchi occidentali svernavano nel paese dei bingo bongo (come gentilmente li ha chiamati Bossi una volta). Paul è riuscito a salvare tutti con mezzi privilegiati, mezzi di cui la normale popolazione non godeva: una telefonata al proprietario dell’albergo (un belga), appelli ad amici ricchi, occidentali, potenti, un po’ di corruzione nell’esercito hutu a furia di birre, liquori e cibi prelibati. Era l’unica scelta per Paul, perché l’Onu in quel caso è intervenuta solo per far evacuare gli occidentali presenti nel paese (e nell’albergo), lasciando tranquillamente gli africani massacrarsi tra loro. La scena più bella del film è quella in cui i turisti vengono fatti salire sugli autobus delle Nazioni Unite, per essere portati fuori da un paese in fiamme, mentre migliaia di neri vengono lasciati nell’albergo-fortino. E il povero Paul, abituato ad aver a che fare con gli occidentali, apparentemente civili, ha capito di essere solo carne da macello per i governi dei visi pallidi. A fare un film su questi temi non c’è niente di male, anzi. Però se il film non incide anche su un piano estetico ed emotivo (tutto scorre come da copione), l’impressione è che il suo lavoro informativo sia debole e appaghi il vuoto di memoria solo per le due ore della proiezione, non lasciando tracce a lungo termine. Le uniche veramente necessarie.

Cast: Don Cheadle, Sophie Okonedo, Nick Nolte, Joaquin Phoenix, Roberto Citran

Uscita: 11 marzo 2005