The Cruel Sea

The Cruel Sea Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

Why Watch The Cruel Sea?

  • To see what Kuwait was like before the arrival of oil
  • If you want to watch a classical tragedy
  • For energetic editing inspired by the Soviet masters
From: Kuwait, Asia
Watch: YouTube, IMDb
Next: Battleship Potemkin, The Cow, Batuque
Continue reading “The Cruel Sea – A Tragedy Inspired by the Soviet Masters”

In By A Sharp Knife, Ludovit finds out that his son has just been murdered by a group of neo-Nazis on the night of his graduation. Despite clear video evidence of the murder, the killers are let free. Ludovit leads a fight for justice whilst carrying his own feelings of guilt at pushing his son away.

It’s a bleak film which deals with grief and a corrupt judiciary department. However, unfortunately it feels limp. It’s an investigative, fight for justice thriller without the actual investigation. There’s no investigation into the murderers – why they killed David, who’s supporting them and why, and how they’re managing to influence justice. As a result, the court room scenes are lifeless as it just ends up in one person’s word versus another. Meanwhile the music and appearance of the gang boss adds drama which feels artificial.

Furthermore, the characters are left incomplete. Firstly, there’s the relationship between Ludovit and his wife. They don’t speak much about the death and there’s no exploration of their grief or any strains on their relationship. Which is why their sudden split and later reunion feels too underdeveloped – there’s no foundations for either.

Secondly, there are too many characters which are only present for one or two scenes. They appear and disappear in crucial plot developments in the legal procedure at the police station and court room. Because we only see them for a few minutes at most, we never know who they are, what their role is, and why they’ve been included in the film. They only manage to muddy the progression of the investigation and film.

Lastly, there are an unnecessary amount of images of the Most SNP bridge in Bratislava. One or two shots of it are enough to situate the film in the city – if viewers don’t recognize it by then, they probably won’t by the tenth time.

The inspiration of By A Sharp Knife is shocking. However, the following investigation never really feels threatening enough or real enough to turn the film into a memorable thriller. The underdeveloped characters and relationships and overproduced court room finale make the film feel limp.

In Stitches, a mother restarts her own investigation into the death of her newborn son 18 years ago. She believes he was stolen from her and that he’s potentially still alive. However, she has to also prove the police, her friends, and her family that she’s not insane.

The film spends most of its run time following the mother’s investigation. While she’s investigating, the audience also has to figure out if she’s crazy or not. She’s not the most engaging or sympathetic of characters as she doesn’t say anything to her family or friends. Her face is always blank and emotionless. We can only start to sympathise with her when her investigations are vindicated in some of the records she uncovers.

From that point on, the way she has to try to convince her family and friends of the truths she’s uncovered follows the routine of horror films:

  1. The main character knows something the audience doesn’t.
  2. The audience learns/sees something which makes them understand the main character.
  3. The main character struggles to convince her friends and family.
  4. Eventually, they prove something to a close family member or friend.
  5. That friend or family member shows/convinces everyone else.

However, unfortunately there few things that let down the film for me. Firstly, I was never sold on the main character. Her face is expressionless for the whole film, making her hard to sympathise with or care about. Her actions and movements in contrast to her blank expression were always very obvious and rigid, which made them appear forced and unnatural, drawing attention to her role as an actor.

Secondly, it would have been good to have more background about the mother. it’s not clear why the lady starts the film so depressed all of a sudden. 18 years have passed, so why is she not talking to her daughter and suddenly so concerned to find her missing son again. It would also be good to know why she was put into a mental asylum and how she managed to get out and reintegrate herself into her family and society.

Lastly, I found the editing and cinematography of Stitches a bit off-putting. There were a lot of scenes with one character in clear focus with everything in the background blurred. In itself this works, but these shots were often cut with mid range shots where everything was in focus, making the editing feel a bit disjointed.

Overall Stitches covered an interesting story, but because of the hard to sympathise with feature character, I never got fully engaged in her investigation.

There is No Evil is made to be provocative in both the story structure and the content. Each of the four stories contains a mystery: we have to ask who the main character is and what they have done? Revealing their identity and actions is provocative as it shows how they’re linked to capital punishment and mandatory military service. None of the characters are what they initially seem.

Likewise the content is provocative. As mentioned, each story is linked to the death penalty and mandatory military service. But not just one of the other, as often the mandatory military service requires you to enforce capital punishment. Regular citizens are expected to follow orders and pull the stool from under those citizens deemed worthy of death. The director focuses on this to show how encompassing authoritarian rule is in Iran, and how blindly some people follow it. By showing how the state forces you to commit the absolute highest crime for it’s benefit, the director reveals that there’s nothing some citizens wouldn’t do to facilitate the authoritarian government in Iran.

There is No Evil is split into four parts partly for political/logistical reasons. Director Mohammad Rasoulof is currently banned from filmmaking in Iran and breaking the film into shorts made it easier to hide his name from the permits and delegate. However, breaking the film up into four sections also helps to expand the perspective of the film. Instead of focusing on one family in one singular feature, the four parts show the range of people and lives the death penalty affects. We see those who resist and those that follow the law, as well as family members and friends who can’t escape it. It shows that everyone can be implicated.

Whilst it shows people from both sides, the film appears to favor those who resist. This is shown in the openness of the worlds in each short, especially when comparing the first short to the last. In the first, we follow a father governed by his routines. He follows rules and chastises his wife for forgetting to do things by the book. Despite being free to go wherever he wants, his world feels narrow and restricted. A lot of the time he’s inside either a car stuck in traffic, or in buildings, and he works in a windowless room far underground in artificial light. So whilst he’s not an outcast to society, his world feels limited and bleak. In contrast, the outcast in part four has escaped from Iranian society. He’s been forced to live off the land far from civilization because he resisted. But his world also feels more free for it. His story is full of natural light and wide expansive shots of the landscape. His world feels more free despite his political status because he stood up for what he believed in. His spiritual freedom is reflected in his bright world. In him, the director shows he favors those who resist.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.

Nasir

This film portrays a day in the life of Nasir, a Muslim tailor in Tamil-Nadu, one of India’s Southern states. It doesn’t shy away from the mundane, as it takes time to show Nasir go about his everyday tasks. We see him wash, eat, sleep, chat, and work. The aim is to portray Nasir as an ordinary Indian man. Just like everyone else, he’s burdened by life’s necessities.

The only thing that might stand out about him is that he’s a bit of a poet. He makes up poetry in his head and recites it to his colleagues and is shot walking around with his inner thoughts voiced over in the narrative. There’s also a few long takes of Nasir’s face in close up as he’s resting by an aquarium. These long takes force us to notice him thinking or day dreaming, to add a thoughtfulness to his character. It further adds to the construction of Nasir as an ordinary nice guy, humbly living his life.

The director sets up Nasir’s humble life to contrast with the threatening rise of Hindu nationalism in the background. It’s first heard on the market loudspeakers when Nasir walks his wife to the bus station. Then we hear his boss talking about the upcoming Hindu festival and how they need to get rid of the Muslims. It’s clear the Islamophobic sentiment is getting stronger and becoming more outspoken. Nasir seems to be oblivious of this, partly because the director protects him from it with a much narrower aspect ratio than your standard widescreen. It keeps him and his humble life as the focus and keeps the threatening presence of Hindu nationalism out of the screen.

Nasir is a humble look at one person trying to live a humble life amidst rising nationalism.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.