I’ve been asked by fellow-blogger Movieman0283 over at The Dancing Image to join him and a few others in writing a little something each on our favourite books on cinema. I don’t really know where to start so have reached for the first things on my shelves I could find that I could hold my hand on my heart and say ‘Yes, I really like this book!’ So, without further ado:

1. Hitchcock, by Francois Truffaut (ed.)

The first book to get on Hitchcock and the one that you’ll keep turning back to over the years. My edition, from 1969, is a snug size that I can fit into a broad pocket – much nicer in my opinion than the clumpy A4 editions that seem to be the norm for this book at the moment. I very much like the cover design too with a vertiginous swirl distorting Hitch’s face with the right side of his face darker than the left, much like Judy’s face appears at that moment in her apartment in Vertigo. This book is simply jam-packed full of ideas about filmmaking – Truffaut got a great deal out of Hitch and follows him through his whole career chronologically. His famous contrast between suspense and surprise is in here but so too is his fascinating notion of ’saving’ the long shot, with everything in a scene (what we would typically term the ‘establishing shot’), until it can be put to a purpose. It’s also fascinating to read as a marker of its time, the mid-60s (when the interviews were done.) Truffaut and the Cahiers gang had all made films but were still young and Truffaut’s admiration for the man he clearly considers THE master of cinema is palpable. Incidentally Hitch doesn’t come across as too enthused about Chabrol and Rohmer’s portrait of him as a Catholic filmmaker in their monograph. Here are Truffaut’s words on Hitchcock at the close of his introduction:

     If in the era of Ingmar Bergman, one accepts the promise that cinema is an art form, on a par with literature, I suggest that Hitchcock belongs – and why classify him at all? – among such artists of anxiety as Kafka, Dostoevsky and Poe.

     In the light of their own doubts these artists of anxiety can hardly be expected to show us how to live; their mission is simply to share with us the anxieties that haunt them. Consciously or not, this is their way of helping us to understand ourselves, which is, after all, a fundamental purpose of any work of art. 

2. The Women Who Knew Too Much, by Tania Modleski

There are of course many great books on Hitchcock that I could cite here but this is one that’s certainly had an effect on me personally. Modleski basically attempts to stand between the polar opposition of perspectives on Hitchcock’s view of women – that he was a misogynist (Mulvey) or that he was a proto-feminist (Wood.) She humorously undercuts Wood’s wish to “save” Hitchcock for feminism as auteurist romanticism, making it clear that her intention is to “save” feminism for film studies (or vice-versa.) She achieves this through the close study of Hitchcock’s position on women in seven films. Modleski terms Hitch “ambivalent” about women and – similarly to Truffaut above - suggests that his talent, and more importantly his value for a feminist “reader” of his films, comes from the clarity of his expression of his anxieties about women.

3. Controlling Hollywood: Censorship and Regulation in the Studio Era, by Matthew Bernstein (ed.)

The Depth of Field series is a terrific one and I could just as easily have recommended the collections on Film and Nationalism and Movies and Mass Culture in this series. These collections bring together previously published work by some of the most important academic figures on the subject. The books are very well put together and the introduction is always authoritative.

4. Parallel Tracks, by Lynne Kirby

A book on film with a truly innovative form in its discussion on the interrelation of the railroad and cinema as twin engines of the onslaught of modernity. It’s also a joy to read combining in all the right ways history, theory and textual analysis of the movies and the railroad. The kind of book I’d love to be able to write someday… 

5. “Film Europe” and “Film America”: Cinema, Commerce and Cultural Exchange 1920-1939, by Andrew Higson and Richard Maltby (eds.)

A groundbreaking collection that takes as its starting point a small period in the late 20s and early 30s in which there was a hope that a “Film Europe” could be established, with the nations of Europe combining forces in an attempt to match and compete with Hollywood cinema’s worldwide “Imperialist” dominance of cinema screens. While this hope ultimately failed the book uses this as a means towards discussing Hollywood world-dominance in the inter-war period in a manner that is refreshingly clear of hyperbole and that goes beyond the notion of a simple, top-down hegemony. This book is full of historical details on tariffs, embargoes and contingencies and definitely not one to take with you to the beach… But it goes beyond the details of economic exchange on this subject laid out so well in Kristin Thompson’s Exporting Entertainment, putting as much emphasis on cultural exchange. It’s a difficult read but really worth the effort,  to get a strong, grounded sense of the globalism and transnationalism of cinema that was just beginning at this stage but that is now central to the medium; lest we forget that, for example, The Lord of the Rings was really a German film…

6. Fritz Lang in America, by P. Bogdanovich

Fritz Lang, in my opinion, was a serious intellectual and you can learn a lot from what he had to say about his films. It’s necessary to take Lang’s specific historical details and his self-mythologising with a pinch of salt, but the essence of Lang’s views on cinema in this book are invaluable. 

7. The Moviegoer, by Walker Percy

I think we all get an attachment to the specific editions of books that we’ve read, but again I prefer this edition to the regular one with a colour photo. Ok, since I’ve written quite a bit on this book on this site I’ll redirect you to this stuff, of which I’m quite proud. First there is a segment from the opening of the novel here, then there is a piece of writing on that segment and its discussion of cinema here and finally there is a follow-up piece here. It’s all quite easy to read I promise!

8. Hollywood Modernism, by Saverio Giovacchini

The film still on the cover is from Confessions of a Nazi Spy (WB, 1939) the first film, as the tag-line went, that dared to ‘call a swastika a swastika.’ It’s a fascinating film that strangely, considering its historical importance, still remains completely unavailable on DVD or VHS. I have a copy of the film on the now obsolete format of the Video-CD (VCD), which is probably quite rare and seems to be the only way this film has been released. Giovacchini’s book forcefully counters the myth that Hollywood cinema, and Hollywood culture in general, of the 1930s and 40s produced only vacuous mass entertainment and was completely unwilling to discuss politics and the problems of modern society. He draws attention to heated discussions over the nature of “realism” in the 1930s and the immense national strength and influence of the Hollywood Anti-Nazi League. I’ve written a little about the HANL in an essay on Meet John Doe (1941) here. Giovacchini’s book is a very enjoyable read.

9. Time Out Film Guide 2008, by Geoff Andrew (ed)

You’ll notice I’ve put the 2008 edition here – this is no slight on the latest edition but just the edition I happen to have; it also has a rather lovely image of Penelope Cruz that I couldn’t resist having on my site.. Anyway, the Time Out Film Guide is without a doubt the best film guide on offer in Britain – I haven’t looked at that many of the US ones but they’d have to be pretty strong to compete. It certainly seems to be the guide with the most space for World Cinema. There are no star ratings and reviews don’t generally contain synopses – instead they offer acute observations and understanding of the films discussed, crammed into very few words. Reviews do generally make it clear if the critic liked the film but are so well drawn that you can come away from a review that slammed a film with so much detail that you feel you want to see the film anyway. This happened for me, for instance, when I read the review of Gregg Araki’s Nowhere (1997), which described the film as ‘a piece of shit.’ In this instance the critic got it wrong, by the way – hardly a great film but kind of weirdly enjoyable. But I’ll repeat that generally the reviews are uncannily accurate.

10. The Classical Hollywood Cinema: Film Style & Mode of Production to 1960, by David Bordwell, Janet Staiger and Kristin Thompson

I’ve been pondering over what should be my last book here and felt I couldn’t really leave this one out. Love it or hate it The Classical Hollywood Cinema is probably one of the most important books in film studies. Bordwell et al set out to define the characteristics of an “ordinary” film. Of course it is contentious to imply that Golden Age Hollywood set the “norm” for which all other kinds of cinema (0f the “World” or the “avant-garde”) become the aberration and risks simplifying matters. Yet within the specific context of mainstream American cinema, in the period of the Studio System and its “dream factory”, this model certainly has value. The research in this text is incredibly thorough and when reading through a chapter you occasionally get the sense that the information and ideas here are equivalent to the amount you’d get from reading ten other books. Bordwell’s blog on cinema Observations on film art and Film Art is also essential reading.

That’s as much as I have the energy for right now! By the way, they’re not in any order of greatness, of course… Please comment to let me know what you think of these choices, whether you’ve read the books or not – I love to hear what you guys think. And get reading!

While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about

There are very few children’s movie that touch our heart. The last such good movie I had seen was Majid Majidi’s Children Of Heaven, which was made two years after this movie. What a nice, cute gem of a movie this is!

The movie took me back to the time when I was a 10 year old boy and my dad had handed me the grave responsibility of depositing Rs.10,000/- in his bank account. He gave me the accompanying paying-in slip and my face turned as pink as the slip itself. Although the bank was about half a kilometer away from our house, it seemed all so far on that particular day. I trudged along, all fidgety, with my hands inside my pockets clutching the bundle of notes. I was perspiring a bit, and it was not because of the summer heat since this happened in the winter of 1990.

The movie begins with Razieh who has been given a 500 tomans currency note on the eve of New Year to purchase a gift for herself, not exceeding 100 tomans. The entire movie revolves around this 500 currency note and her adventures at trying to buy a goldfish. At the face of it, it sounds quite ordinary but the manner in which she struggles from one incident to another is heart-touching.

Her first stop is at the roadside snake charmer and his accomplice, a dervish. They play all kinds of tricks with the currency note, first they take it right out of her small fish-bowl, later they place the note around a slithery snake and ask Razieh to pull it out on her own. Fear, anxiety, curiosity, gloom and finally a smile … all this happens in those five minutes that sees the note exchanging hands and finally making it back to her fish-bowl. The range of expressions that she displays in those 5 minutes is the highpoint of the movie.

I do recall that a few of those expressions were on my face when friends and neighbours waved at me when they walked past on that particular day, and all I could do was to smile back. Obviously I could not have removed my hands from the grasp of the bundle and waved back at them, I could have, but I dared not! I was anxious enough to reach the bank as soon as possible, before I could encounter a few more known faces and give them sheepish grins.

I did reach the bank and was mighty relieved as was Razieh when she reached the gift-shop. But unlike me, she was in for a rude shock. After having bargained with the store-keeper for a plump and chubby goldfish, she was dumbfounded when she found that her fishbowl is empty and that she has managed to lose the money again. I too had a bit of a tormenting time when I saw that there was a long queue for depositing cash and that, I would have to wait for some more time before I could offload myself.

Her chirpiness and innocence won my heart, I would have given her the goldfish as a gift. But alas! the store-keeper has to make a living. Anyhow, Razieh retraces her path and finds the spot where her currency had dropped off. Its a pit covered by grills, infront of a store which is already closed for the vacations. Here begins her next set of struggles of having to retrieve the note from that pit. She is soon joined by her brother and they cannot return home empty handed. Razeih definitely wants her New Year gift and the brother being older feels the need to be by his sister’s side and help her out.

The story is quite simple, nothing showy flashy at all. But the manner in which it unfolds is very appreciable, keeping the sensitivity of children in mind. The screenplay is wonderful and filled with lots of sweet little moments like the conversation with the army man who is on his way to his native place on account of New Year leave, the tailor who argues with a customer about the size of the collar, an elderly lady who offers to help and finally the smallboy who sells balloons for a living. How all these people come together and do their bit in trying to help the sweet little kid is very well done.

When the army man tries talking to Razieh and she does not respond, he asks if she has been instructed not to talk to strangers. That’s such a basic parenting nature, all of us are taught not to do so. This was captured well in the movie, sticking to the minutest of details about children’s mannerism and behaviour pattern.

The baby-girl is really enchanting and her expressions are just fantastic. The director, Jafar Panahi, has extracted a fabulous performance from her. From the first scene that she steps out of the house to the last scene, she is amazing. A lot of credit should go to Abbas Kiarostami who is the screen-writer of the movie. When Razieh finally gets her goldfish, its more of a writer’s victory than the directors. Taking no credit away from Jafar who has brought out the best from Aida Mohammadkhani[Razieh] and all other characters, I think the beautiful and detailed writing from Kiarostami must have helped him a great deal. All in all, a fantastic team effort and a good movie to sit back and watch.

I, of course, did manage to deposit the money with a little help from the clerk sitting across the table. When I got back home with a broad smile, dad let me know that he was following me like a guardian angel, keeping a distance of 20 feet. He believed in the saying that if you want a child to grow-up, hand him some responsibility.

By the way, the last shot of the movie was quite exceptional. All the characters who had appeared earlier, crossed each other’s path in that last snapshot. It probably signified the wheel of life, the criss-crossing of paths could also be a symbol of the close-knit society that exists and how people come forward to help each other.

PS: I shudder to think what we would do with the movie if it were to be remade in bollywood. We would, for sure, have a bunch of jokers, a few so-called-stars making an appearance; then a dream item-number prompted by some movie poster stuck on the billboard, a few silly laughs by a drunk passer-by who attempts to pull the note out of the pit etc. The reason for this afterthought is the fact that I heard ‘Children Of Heaven’ is being remade.

A lonesome snowman sitting on Vaughan Road, West Harrow, dreams himself transported to Harrow on the Hill and watches the beautiful people playing in the snow. The song is ‘I Can See It Now’ by the Walker Brothers. Filmed on the 2nd February 2009 in Harrow, London. The film is inspired by the Lumiere Brothers and others. Enjoy!

Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
– A line that Andy Dufresne says in the movie

There is never a wrong time to watch the right movie. And I am not just saying this because I saw the movie The Shawshank Redemption a decade and a half after it was made, I am saying it because its a movie that everyone should see. On hindsight, I feel that its a good thing that I saw the movie at a time when I would be able to absorb more of it than I would have been able to, had I seen it when I was 13 yrs old. But at that age, I did read a story by Count Leo Tolstoy, as a part of our ICSE syllabus, called God Sees The Truth But Waits. Although the gist of the story by Tolstoy, Rita Hayworth And Shawshank Redemption story by Stephen King notwithstanding, is the same; but the movie achieves what the story does not. The movie is the ultimate example of hope against reason, happiness against murkiness and victory of the human spirit against all odds.

The movie starts with a double murder and the ensuing court case, but that’s not what the movie is about. That’s just the catalyst which brings Andy Dufresne, the murder accused, and Ellis Boyd Redding, a term serving prisoner who has been in jail for 20 years and still counting. No two people could have been as different as these two were; different race, different socio-economic background, different crimes, different outlook towards life – what a leveller the prison is! Its an unlikely friendship that they have, which starts off as Red being the person who can get things into the prison for his inmates and Andy contacting him because he needs a few articles from the outside world; and this acquaintance takes the shape of friendship as time passes and as they begin sharing their innermost thoughts and confide in each other.

When Andy enters the Shawshank prison, he is your typical blue-collared banker who keeps to himself and is taken to be a snob. But the realization soon dawns upon him that he has to spend two back-to-back life terms amidst these very people. Just as water takes the shape of the container in which its poured, so also Andy learns to adapt. He brings his banking experience to play doling out tax advice to the warden and other keepers of the prison; he starts filing their taxes and advices them on loans and insurance. He wins them over with his smartness, but annoys them once in a while with his obstinacy.

Andy is a very unassuming character; he never chides at anyone, never complains out of frustration, never blames God or destiny for his current status in prison. He takes things as it comes, very calmly. Life moves on, Andy continues impressing the warden with his accountancy skills, running a small scam, making big bucks for the warden. Andy also gets himself involved in trying to get funds from the Govt for the prison library. He manages to get $200 sanctioned after writing to them a-letter-a-week for 6 years on the trot.

In the meantime, an old prisoner, Heywood, who had spent 50 years in jail, gets a parole and release. When an eagle is raised among ostriches, it never learns how to fly. Heywood suffered from the same problem when he was asked to leave the prison, he just wanted to stay-on because he knew no other way of living. He did go out, but it was not very long before which he gave up his life because he could not come to terms with it. I guess he desired for a greater form of liberty, not just from the prison!

Here’s where it makes the most sense. You need it so we don’t forget…that there are places in the world that aren’t made out of stone, that there’s, there’s somethin’ inside that they can’t get to, that they can’t touch. It’s yours.

I do believe that books and music are two things which nobody can snatch from us. Even if we are taken captive, the offenders can take our freedom but not the soul, they can brutalise our bodies but not bend the spirit. And thats the code Andy lives by. The immense pleasure he derives out of listening to Mozart on the gramophone, in the face of open rebellion, signifies that. He later pays for it by spending one-week-in-the-hole but he finds that totally worth it. Red, as a narrator, is among the prisoners who enjoyed those few minutes of Italian music, although he understood nothing of it.

I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are better left unsaid. I’d like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can’t be expressed in words, and it makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a grey place dares to dream. It was as if some beautiful bird had flapped into our drab little cage and made these walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.

Red has two parole-seeking interviews, one when he had completed 20 yrs in prison and the other when he completed 30. And he is disillusioned about ever getting out of the jail. On the other hand, Andy is a man of hope and will power. Hope is like the candle in the wind, it can guide us home if we have it or it can dessert us if we don’t. Hope is what drives the world, what makes us open our eyes each morning in search of better tomorrow. Hope is what pushes an egyptologist in search of Tutankhamen, what forces a scientist to continue his endeavour in string theory and hope is what makes a geologist excavate a 500 yard tunnel in search of a newer world. But hope can be a dangerous thing, as Red warns Andy. Hope can drive a man crazy, looking for neanderthal in the artic. That’s the reason Red does not want hope, he believes hope has no place in Shawshank.

But Andy, with hope in his eyes and will in his heart, continues biding his time. His hopes suddenly gain new hooves when Tommy enters the prison for a two year term. Having got bored of his current responsibilities, Andy finds a new way of killing time. He takes Tommy under his wings and begins teaching him as Tommy wishes to complete his education. But again, Tommy is not merely a timepass, he is a messenger of God. What he reveals to Andy is almost incredible and it gives wings to Andy’s flights of fantasy. Andy begins dreaming of a life outside of prison, sooner or later.

Andy : Tell you where I’d go. Zihuatanejo!
Red : Zihuatanejo?
Andy : Mexico. Little place right on the Pacific. You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? They say it has no memory. That’s where I’d like to finish out my life, Red. A warm place with no memory. Open a little hotel right on the beach. Buy some worthless old boat and fix it up like new. Take my guests out charter fishing. You know, a place like that, I’d need a man who can get things.

What transpires next is a mere formality because I always knew it all along. It was just a matter of time, and the time had come. Destiny beckoned Andy and he did not look back, ever again. As Red narrates in his inimitable voice:

Andy Dufresne, who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side.

The movie is also about great friendships, as I had mentioned earlier. The bonding and the feeling of camaraderie is for real. While Andy is still in prison, in his astral projection he has already been to the hayfields of Buxton in Maine, and near the oak tree, under a rock, he has placed a little something for Red, if he were ever to get out of prison. Andy gives the best thing that any friend can ever give – that little something is more than hope, its a reason to live. And that’s what great friendship is all about, having and sharing.

Its a new day in Shawshank, and a new officer who comes to interview Red for his parole approval. In a very uncharacteristic manner, Red tries to be as undiplomatic as possible. He has had enough of this farce and in his third appearance at the hearing he no longer cares whether they accept or reject his nomination. He has no faith in God and no hope as well. But God works in strange ways. Sometimes we toil and toil to the best of our abilities but have no outcome; whereas sometimes a little nudge, a small push just moves a mountain; it probably works on law of averages. Anyways, God did not answer Red’s prayers because Red never prayed; but he did listen to  Andy’s hopes and dreams.

Rehabilitated? Well now, let me see. You know, I don’t have any idea what that means…I know what you think it means. To me, it’s just a made-up word, a politician’s word so that young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did?…There’s not a day goes by I don’t feel regret. And not because I’m in here or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then. A young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him. Tell him the way things are. But I can’t. That kid’s long gone. This old man is all that’s left. I gotta live with that. ‘Rehabilitated?’ That’s just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your forms, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don’t give a shit.

Red, finally, gets the the approval for parole this time; much against his own expectations. He lands up in the same shanty quarter where Heywood had resided for a while. But that was the only coincidence, because fate had different things planned. Red recalls what Andy had once told him about the volcanic glass and the rock under which something awaits him. Yes, Red is now filled with as much anxiety as Archimedes was filled with when he cracked the floatation theory, and wanted to get there in a hurry. He does so, and as promised by Andy, there lies a box filled with hope, fufillment of a promise, a testimony of friendship and the freedom of a seagull.

Redemption, hope, friendship and undying faith in God’s actions, is what differentiates the Leo Tolstoy story from this movie. The movie is an absolute delight as we see Red setting off on a journey to begin life all over again.

I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain… I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.

Morgan Freeman as Red is fabulous. His narration is filled with poignancy, enthusiasm, emotion and chirpiness. And his performance is among the best that I have seen of him; pausing at the right moments, speaking when required, emoting when necessary and breathing life into the role. Tim Robbins, as Andy Dufresne, on the other hand has given a well restrained performance. I had earlier seen him in Mystic River, another grave movie. He excels in the portrayal of the never-say-die spirit. Its all credit to the script which gives him enough scope to bring out the best in him. And finally, Frank Darabont as the director, has done a wonderful job. This actually is the first full length directorial venture of his, but that never shows in the movie. That in itself is the victory of the director. He steered the ship of the movie so well that it earned 7 Oscar nominations, no wins though.

Ending the post on a happier note, I think its one of the best that I have seen. The movie has a lot to offer, it just does not end there. It gives us a thought to take home and churn. Ultimately, there are only two ways to lead life, it just boils down to a simple choice … Get busy living, or get busy dying …

(This article first appeared in the Mumbai Mirror)

The Toronto International film festival held in Canada is widely considered to be one of the top film festivals in the world, having been acknowledged by the Variety magazine as “the Festival second only to Cannes in terms of high-profile pics, stars and market activity.” For years a variety of Indian cinema, mostly regional offbeat and often low budget has found place in the prestigious line up of screenings there. But last year the selection of Karan Johar’s Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna as a gala presentation in the festival with the likes of Almodovar and Ridley Scott came as a real surprise. The festival maintains its indie roots and even though in the recent years it has given extra attention to Hollywood films, it is still more likely to screen a Ray than a Titanic. What then was a mainstream ‘Bollywood’ extravaganza like KANK doing at the festival? When asked Cameron Haynes from the festival replied, “ It is a struggle to accept a film from such a different cinematic tradition. But Bollywood films are such a huge success all over the world that we felt the need to acknowledge it in the festival and accept that other forms of filmmaking exist. There isnt much argument one can put forward against the popularity of ‘Bollywood’ cinema. Recently when Guru hosted its world premiere in Toronto people bought out tickets for unprecedented sums of money.

Canada is more than well acquainted with Indian films thanks to its festivals and its large Indian population. But Mumbai which regularly indulges in American, British, French, German, Japanese and even Iranian films has still not got much of a taste of  Canadian films. Haynes flew down with four contemporary films and some of their cast and crew members from Canada in an attempt to bridge this gap.

However, that Canadian films have not carved a niche here may have reasons other than hitherto poor cultural relations. For years Canadian cinema has been struggling to emerge from the shadow of Hollywood. Majority of the Canadian screens show American feature films. Canadian films, especially Canadian English films find themselves being treated as Hollywood’s poor cousins in their own country. There maybe good reason for this too because a lot of them tend to mimic the style, content and ideological disposition of Hollywood cinema and very few of them are culturally rooted in Canada.

Saint Ralph, one of the four films that were screened in the city, is a good example of this affliction. The film could just as well have been set in any part of North America. Except for its low budget and no stars, the film looks and sounds like a product of old Hollywood with stereotypical characters and very clichéd plots and subplots. It is a well made inspirational tear jerker alright, but there is nothing remotely ‘Canadian’ about it.

Fortunately the other three films made more of an attempt to depart from standardized Hollywood norms.  A Simple Curve was a novel and heartfelt take on the overused theme of dysfunctional father-son relations set among North Americans who had migrated in protest of the Vietnam War. La Neuvaine and Away From Her may not have had distinct Canadian settings but in their content and treatment were certainly experimental. The former, written and directed by Bernard Émond, moves at an incredibly slow pace, as the

filmmaker initially emphasizes style and mood over character development. But gradually it picks up and turns into an engaging and moving tale about two characters who lean on each other while grappling with faith, death and disillusionment. The latter marks actor Sarah Polley’s directorial debut and deals with unconditional love, marriage and life in a retirement home which is fast becoming a tradition in North America. Her treatment of relationships is poignant, yet real- never marred by syrupy sentimentality.

The debate on identity aside the films were thoroughly enjoyable and very refreshing. Canadian films with their unique blend of the familiar and the new will leave you hungry for more. But while on the issue of identity, India is one of those rare countries which have survived the onslaught on Hollywood studio films and developed strong cinematic traditions. The undefeatable popularity of Indian cinema among its own people maybe its greatest achievement but it is certainly cannot be overlooked if you consider how Hollywood has colonized cinemas the world over.

- PRAGYA TIWARI.

One of the more surprising joys of visiting or revisiting much older films is the way many of them can speak very candidly about the state of society and culture today as well as it did at the time of its release.  Such is the case with Italian director Vittorio De Sica’s 1948 film “The Bicycle Thieves, a film that is universally hailed as one of the landmarks in cinema.  While there are many non-American films that I think are better, and countless more that I enjoyed more, this does not discount the fact that this is a terrific film.  It also happens to be a film that is all the more powerful and familiar in the midst of an American financial depression.

There is not much complexity to be found in the basic story; a family man is blessed to find employment during trying times in Italy, but the beloved bicycle that is imperative to fulfillment of his job is stolen.  The desperate man, along with his young son, begin a desperate search to locate the absconded bicycle.  This, in a very basic sense, is the entire plot of the film.  But the nuances of that story are what give this film its depth.  The protagonist, Antonio Ricci (played by Lamberto  Maggiorani, who like the rest of the case was not a professional actor), provides a captivating performance as the desperation of poverty and the inability to keep his job as a result of this theft haunts him.  We are never meant to believe that Ricci is the hero of the tale, nor is he really a villain.  He is portrayed as a real, everyday individual who is frightened by the idea that he won’t be able to provide for his family and his son in the way that he wishes to.  On many occasions he attempts to seek the assistance of various people in town, but repeatedly to no avail, as conventional townspeople, his son, or even the police cannot begin to grasp the situation with the same brevity that he does.  This leads to Ricci choosing actions that are not at all honorable, but the circumstances make the end result seem less corrupt and more tragic.

Though I as obviously not alive in 1948, I am willing to guess the message of this film was likely a powerful one at the time.  My historical knowledge of Italy is sadly quite limited, but I do know that for American viewers, the looming shadow of the Great Depression was still not too far removed.  I’m certain the themes of this film were not difficult for many viewers to identify with, and I would not be surprised if there were many who had not found themselves in the same quandary as Ricci.  De Sica’s decision to cast real actors probably aided in the tone of the film as well;  the performers in the film weren’t jaded celebrities who could not relate to the fears of everday life.  They were everyday people who likely had faced the same dangers.  Having personally been the target of theft as well, the paranoia and consuming frustration Ricci has in the film seems very real as well.  As our country continues to adjust to the fears of a broken economy, a film like “The Bicycle Thieves” seems all the more heartbreaking and this is certainly a film that will always be one for the ages, but will likely be a much richer viewing experience in more impoverished times.

SPOILER WARNING!  DO NOT READ AHEAD IF YOU DO NOT WISH FOR THE ENDING TO BE SPOILED!!!!

Of course one cannot talk about “The Bicycle Thieves” at the end and not want to discuss Ricci’s actions at the end of the film, where he himself resorts to theft after unsuccessfully locating the stolen bicycle.  For the viewer this is a sad moment but an amazingly effective one;  on one hand we are disappointed that Ricci resorted to such an immoral action (especially after having been the victim of theft himself).  But by this point we have followed him through his trials and tribulations for so long, that as a viewer it seems more sad and tragic than criminal.  This does effectively put the entire film into perspective though:  is it possible the thieves that stole Ricci’s bike at the beginning of the film may have committed the theft under the same circumstances?  And if so, what does that say about the circular effect of crime as a result of poverty?  Many of the best films end with a host of questions that can be asked about the message of the film, and often provide no easy or simplistic answers, and this is true of De Sica’s film.  I also find it fascinating that what would at least today be considered a “petty crime” today was able to have such a damaging effect in the long run.  I do not know if this film was based on an actual instance of crime or sprung from the imagination of the author who wrote the soure material, but regardless of its origin the story flourishes because it feels firmly grounded in reality.

9/10