Oleh Ku Seman Ku Hussain
APABILA terdetik di hati untuk menonton filem, ada yang terpaksa bersesak di jalan raya dan beratur panjang untuk membeli tiket sebelum masuk ke pawagam.
Kita sudah pasti mempunyai jawapan kalau ditanya, “Kenapa menonton filem?”
Adakah kita terpaksa membuang masa dan duit semata-mata untuk mendapat “mesej” seperti yang dijaja oleh sesetengah pengarah?
Mesej penting apakah yang kita cari hingga sanggup memberi satu ruang waktu bagi tujuan ini?
Tom Engelhardt explains how movies have influenced and helped him understand the realities of the world.
By Tom Engelhardt
Every childhood has its own geography and every child is an explorer, as daring as any Peary or Amundsen or Scott. I was the mildest of children, such a picky eater that my parents called me a “quince” (a fruit sour enough, they insisted, to make your face pucker, as mine did when challenged by any food out of the ordinary). I was neither a daredevil nor a chance-taker, and by my teens scorned myself for being so boringly on the straight and narrow. I never raced a car, or mocked a cop, or lit out for the territories.
By A. O. SCOTT (The New York Times)
Published: May 19, 2011
Owen Wilson with the marvellous view of Midnight In Paris
The definitive poem in English on the subject of cultural nostalgia may be a short verse by Robert Browning called “Memorabilia.” It begins with a gasp of astonishment — “Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?” — and ends with a shrug: “Well I forget the rest.” Isn’t that always how it goes? The past seems so much more vivid, more substantial, than the present, and then it evaporates with the cold touch of reality. The good old days are so alluring because we were not around, however much we wish we were.
“Midnight in Paris,” Woody Allen’s charming new film, imagines what would happen if that wish came true. It is marvelously romantic, even though — or precisely because — it acknowledges the disappointment that shadows every genuine expression of romanticism. The film has the inspired silliness of some of Mr. Allen’s classic comic sketches (most obviously, “A Twenties Memory,” in which the narrator’s nose is repeatedly broken by Ernest Hemingway), spiked with the rueful fatalism that has characterized so much of his later work.
The dancer and choreographer Agnes de Mille once said, “Living is a form of not being sure, not knowing what next or how. The moment you know how, you begin to die a little. The artist never entirely knows, we guess. We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark.” Just as de Mille once stated I, Kim Anehall, will leap into the dark trying to give an independent and fair effort to appreciate the art that is created in the world of cinema. This effort will be depicted through a 10-point scale where one will reflect as the lowest while 10 will be considered the highest. Nonetheless, all grading and reviews at Cinematica will, unfortunately, be affected by some subjective views since it is next to impossible to erase values, morals, and beliefs that we have obtained over years of existence. However, what is valued the most at Cinematica is the artist’s free creativity, integrity, and wisdom shared with the audience through his or her personal approach to convey their story.
By: Peter Bradshaw (guardian.co.uk)
A family at war … A Separation.
An unhappily married couple break up in this complex, painful, fascinating Iranian drama by writer-director Asghar Farhadi, with explosive results that expose a network of personal and social faultlines. A Separation is a portrait of a fractured relationship and an examination of theocracy, domestic rule and the politics of sex and class – and it reveals a terrible, pervasive sadness that seems to well up through the asphalt and the brickwork. In its depiction of national alienation in Iran, it’s comparable to the work of Jafar Panahi and Mohammad Rasoulof. But there is a distinct western strand. The film shows a middle-class household under siege from an angry outsider; there are semi-unsolved mysteries, angry confrontations and family burdens: an ageing parent and two children from warring camps appearing to make friends. All these things surely show the influence of Michael Haneke’s 2005 film Hidden. Farhadi, like Haneke, takes a scalpel to his bourgeois homeland.