The first impression I had coming into this film was that it would be your typical Spanish supernatural horror film, with its culture surrounding death so heavily. The first few scenes took place in a graveyard, and several conversations later we learn of the death of the main characters’ mother. I never thought that this film would be about something deeper and more complex, and actually be a commentary on the lives of these Spanish women. Never would I have thought to be so immersed in these people’s experiences, and relate to them in a way only real people could.

The issue in particular that this film tackles in such an unconventional way is the theme of sexual abuse and the oppression of women. It is not easy living as a woman in Spain, as the characters went through traumatic experiences at the hands of men—and these men are their husbands and fathers. These women aren’t even safe in their own homes to experience such harassment and abuse from the very people that are supposed to protect them. It is sickening to think of, and so one can’t help but root for the main characters as they go on crazy lengths to cover up their wrongdoing.

But even though this prevalent and heavy issue was seen throughout the movie, it was still very light and enjoyable when it needed to be. It wanted to emphasize the Spanish culture and influence, especially when it came to superstition. It played around with the characters’ belief that Irene, Raimunda’s mother, came back from the dead, especially in her first few interactions with Sole. Even when the two were having a sentimental moment, Irene broke it up by saying, “Don’t say that, Raimunda, or I’ll start crying. And ghosts don’t cry,” to get a laugh out of it.

Lastly, one of the big themes in this movie was the pains of motherhood. Mothers have to work twice as hard, especially in developing or third world countries. The gender roles are still very prevalent there, and the women are expected to do well in their jobs outside and inside the house. This leads them to less time with their families, and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. Nonetheless, the mothers in this film show us what true love is about. Raimunda wanted to protect her daughter, Paula, and got rid of her husband’s body. Irene went to the countryside and burned down the house that Raimuna’s father and his mistress resided in. One would think of these as insane, but it all came from a mother’s love and their capacity to understand their children’s situations. No one would want to live knowing their daughter was raped or sexually assaulted, and they would do anything to protect their child.

The beginning scenes of Clouds On Sils Maria immerses the viewer into the life and perspective of a personal assistant to a middle-aged, high-class actress. At first, everything seems as if they have an ultimately professional, yet close, relationship, but the movie turns this around after a few brief interactions. We get to delve deeper into the main characters’ emotions, thoughts, and attitude towards life because of the circumstances they are put in, much to the parallel of the plot of Maloja Snake. Many symbolisms and subtle dialogue were placed by Assayas, and this gives the film its many layers and makes you want to solve the mystery of the two characters’ minds.

First, I really enjoyed the parallelisms that the film had with the play Maria Enders starred in, Maloja Snake. As the tension grew between the characters, both emotionally and sexually, one would be confused as to the dialogue being real or just simply being read off of the Maloja Snake script. As Valentine put it herself, “It’s theatre. It’s an interpretation of life. It can be truer than life itself.” We get to see this tension start when Valentine talks of Jo-Ann Ellis, and how fond she is of her acting. Maria reacts quite violently and even asks Val, “What do I need to do to make you admire me?” It is clear that Maria wants the affection and attention of the latter, and maybe part of it is reciprocated, but not enough for her to stay. And just like the end of the play, her object of her affection leaves her in the dust with no remorse or closure.

But the film also talks about the art of acting and how it takes a toll on the actors. Whether film stars or theatre actors, each one puts in their own emotion and experiences into the character and they make it their own. For Maria, a part of her always wants to be Sigrid because a vital role in her teenage years was playing the seductress in Maloja Snake. She wants to stay the youthful, inexperienced, reckless person that Sigrid is, but to her dismay, she actually morphs into the character of Helena. Maria even says to Klaus, “I played Sigrid in ‘Maloja Snake’ when I was 18. For me it was more than a role, and… in some way I am still Sigrid.” Actors have this sense of ownership when it comes to their roles, some even to the point of endangering their physical and emotional well-being to portray the part correctly. This is true for most method actors, and we get to see that their characters really affect the rest of their life.

Ultimately, I think it is safe to say that the film touches on many themes throughout its duration. It talks about unreciprocated love, desire, youth, and life as an actor. But it really makes one want to take a step back and think about these and critique them. None of these characters were exactly likable or perfect, but that’s because this film stayed true to the facts of life. Nobody will stay youthful forever. Not everyone that you desire and chase after will reciprocate that affection. Not everyone in your life is meant to be there forever. And that’s all okay. This film teaches us that life goes on, and all we can do is learn from our experiences.

One thing that I realized coming out of Heavy Trip was that this is one comedy movie that you don’t need to fully understand to enjoy. It was unpredictable, hilarious, extremely weird, but charming in its own way. Each of the band members were personalities in their own right, giving off different perspectives and colors to the film. The plot and comedic timing were almost perfectly executed, albeit having dry and parody-like humor.

Within the first few minutes of the film, we get to follow the life of main character Turo, and his misadventures with his yet unnamed heavy metal band. One can already tell that they are outcasts in society, since Turo is called names such as loser and gay by his neighbors as he bikes to Lotvonen’s house. For one, I got to empathize with his character because all he wanted to do was be himself and pursue his passion, but he has gotten so much criticism for being “different”. But once he is reunited with his longtime friends, they jam to a metal song and the mood is significantly lifted. Seeing how seriously they take the band and their career can make one chuckle, but it is also admirable to see these small town friends dream big.

The action picks up when they discover their “sound” accidentally, write and head bang to their first original song, and almost secure a spot on Northern Damnation as if by fate. This springboards Turo’s confidence, as he starts to talk to Miia and wants to impress her—by lying about their gig. As much as one wants to root for and relates to his character, what he did was essentially wrong, and we get to see it backfire later on. He is revealed to have a really bad case of stage fright, and while the vomiting scene was scarily disgusting, it was too funny to take one’s eyes off the screen.

The band then faces many setbacks and hardships, including Jynkky dying, stealing Jouni’s tour bus, kidnapping a musically talented psychopath, almost getting arrested as terrorists in the border, and, seemingly, jumping off a cliff into their death. Even though these events would seem very dire in a normal movie, this one just exceeds your expectations. The boys didn’t die in the fall, and instead make their way into and play in dream festival, Northern Damnation. Turo gets the girl, and even the approval of her overly-protective police father.

All in all, the film was made to be a light-hearted, quirky comedy movie. There were so many ways this could have gone wrong, and there were a few kinks, but overall I enjoyed it too much to care. Never would I have thought that I would like a movie about a heavy metal Finnish band, but Heavy Trip proved me otherwise. It was able to flesh out admirable yet adorkable characters, make one feel bad about their circumstance but also laugh out loud at the same time, and genuinely appreciate metal in a non-parodic and sarcastic way.

Never would I thought that I would enjoy a coming-of-age movie that had one of the weirdest twists of all—a young veterinarian student struggling with her craving for human flesh. Before watching the film, I thought I would be scared out of my mind with the gore and jump scares that a normal horror movie would entail. But Raw had that eerie ambiance and familiar charm that leaves you wanting more.

First, one of the most noteworthy things was the acting. Garance Marillierwas excellent in portraying the life of Justineso smoothly that the audience tends to forget that this is a work of fiction and would never happen in real life. It was through her subtle reactions and genuine ways of responding to a situation that made people think, in some strange way, that they may see themselves in her. The cannibalism aside, Justineis relatable in the sense that she just wants to fit in, make her parents proud, and find her tribe in college. People are exposed to a lot of things during this time, and “going with the flow” is just one of the coping mechanisms that we see here, even though we learn that it is bad to repress these things and keep these scary thoughts to ourselves.

The chemistry between the different actors worked so well. Having Alexia, her sister, and Adrien, her roommate and close friend,as the supporting characters brought different perspectives and voices to the story. Alexiasort of acted as the devil’s advocate in a sense that she made her do things she wouldn’t want to—in order to “enjoy life more”. Adrien, on the other hand, was very supportive and caring towards her even though he didn’t understand what she was going through at first. Putting the two together with Justine, someone so passive and agreeable, made a very interesting trio.

Lastly, coming out of the movie, aside from having to process just exactly what happened throughout all the gory and “WTF” moments, it made me think more about life and freedom. The last scene, where the father revealed to Justine that her mom was actually a cannibal, paired together with the fact that they were raised to be vegetarian, made an interesting juxtaposition. Perhaps the movie is a lesson to both parents and children that are about to depart from their homes and go off into college, or experience the real world for the first time. That no matter how much you try to shield your child from the “bad things”, or the truth, it will find its way to them no matter what. And once this freedom is tasted by them who was once sheltered, and deprived of it, it will leave them wanting more and even be unable to control the craving.

Whether you choose to look at the film in a literal or a figurative sense, a lot of praise needs to be given to Raw. It disturbs you, but you can’t look away. It’s about cannibalism, but it’s also so much more. You can’t help but root for the characters even though what they’re doing is completely wrong and out of the realms of what is morally correct to do. Yet Ducournau gives us a show while breaking the norms of what a coming-of-age/horror/drama film should be.

The Edukators left me thinking in a way that the other films didn’t—it made me think about the situation of our world and what I am doing to respond to it. Not many movies have the power to do that, while making a compelling narrative that immerses audiences into the characters and the story. At first, it feels and looks like the regular heist thriller movie, but Weingartner has so much in store for viewers to leave empty-handed.

We are introduced to three idealistic, free-thinking activists Jan, Peter, and Jule. Each bring a personality and a human aspect to these ideals for a better society. What sets them apart, aside from their ultra-complicated-romance-friendship love triangle, are what they each think about their vision and values for a better society. At first, Jan and Peter were the self-proclaimed “Edukators” who would raid and trash the houses of the upper class in private subdivisions to teach these elites a lesson. Jule, on the other hand, joined in later on, and was able to let out most of her aggression towards Hardenberg, albeit too recklessly. The movie was able to showcase the class struggle in Germany so well from the point of view of these free spirits, while showing the humanity in their mission. They all decided not to steal from the houses they raided, and took care of Hardenberg to the best of their ability while he was kidnapped by them. It is easy to forget that behind all the ruckus they were making are just three idealistic, yet frightened, young adults who just want a good life despite the corrupt social system.

Another interesting and notable element in the film was the dialogue between characters. Not only were the actors able to portray these people as real, oppressed working class, but it also portrayed people like Hardenberg very well—even to the point that makes you pity him. One of my favorite scenes of the film was when Hardenberg was having lunch with the three activists in Jule’s uncles’ cabin. They were able to have real discourse on the matter on social classes, and although they had opposing views, it was interesting to know the motives of both sides. Hardenberg even admitted, “Some of what you say is true, but I’m the wrong person to be blamed for. Yes, I’ve been playing the game but I didn’t make up the rules,” yet Peter replied, “It’s not who invented the gun. It’s who pulls the trigger.” Most of the lines said by the three are very timely and relevant even in our own context (and the Philippines was even mentioned a number of times in the movie), such as when Jule said, “You want them poor! It’s the way to control them. Make them sell their raw goods at dirt cheap prices…”

What I like most about the film and its story is that it emphasizes a call to action, but not a violent one. And although the characters faced a lot of difficulty and oppression from the upper class, they were able to keep a light and hopeful tone at the end of it all and still managed to have fun. In one of the scenes when Jan and Jule were talking about their views on revolution and hope, he tells her, “Even if [some revolutions] didn’t work, the most important thing is that the best ideas survived. The same goes for personal revolts. What turns out good, what survived in you that makes you stronger.” This gives all of us that watched the movie hope, because we all have something the fight for. It may not be as large scale as social class struggle, but in a way this movie touches our emotions and our personal advocacies in such a charming, heartfelt and playful manner.

Timecrimes was a ride of emotions while watching the film: it was thrilling, mysterious, mindblowing, and at times humorous. The story follows the misadventures of a middle-aged married man named Hector who just moved in the outskirts of the Spanish countryside. Everything seemed normal until a strange phone call, an encounter with a “neighbor”, and a madman starts to follow him. 

The first few minutes of the film start to escalate very quickly. He experiences a peeping Tom moment, and when he tries to investigate what happened, it appeared to look like a woman was assaulted in the woods. He then gets stabbed and runs away—quite awkwardly, at that—into the laboratory of a scientist that speaks of time travel. The events of the movie are so absurd that when one tells it plainly, it loses its charm. I believe that the point of the film is to bring the audience a ride of questions, feelings, and realizations. Slowly, but surely, the plot unfolds itself in a way that is understandable but at the same time too smart to be outwitted. Vigalondo does a good job in this balancing act of being a too complicated science-fiction, a thrilling murder mystery, and the mundane events of life.

One of the other things that made this film what it is is the acting of Karra Elejalde, since he did a superb job of playing the different Hectors. The first one was completely clueless, very curious, and (literally) falls at his feet at times. This stumbling, completely ordinary middle-aged man makes the thriller completely different from all the others. Vigalondo was able to make a believable character, but also was able to develop him as the story progressed.

When Hector 2 showed up, that was when most of the audience got it. This is not your ordinary time travel movie where the hero fixes something in the past. The hero is the reason for his own demise, and there is nothing he can do about it. This paradoxical framework in which the film surrounds itself is another aspect of the film that is worth taking a look at. The storytelling was done in a way that as the events unfold itself, the viewer is brought deeper into the story and even to another perspective. The first time around, we were following the one being chased. This time, we are with the so-called “villain”, which just so happened to be the same man! It’s hard to wrap your head around it at first, but Vigalondo pulled off the storyline with such cinematic genius.

After watching it, Timecrimes would be the kind of movie you would want to rewatch or show to your friends. They would never expect any of the twists, and they would laugh, cringe and cower at the same time. It’s a time travel film that doesn’t take itself too seriously, while putting all the right elements of one. Vigalondo, who also plays the scientist, is sort of a reflection of the audience. We think that we are in control of the situation, but the film proves us otherwise, and we are just enjoying the ride.

Trollhunter is definitely something else in terms of what we know of found footage films. Who knew that there would be such a film out there about a group of students that decided to film a bear-poacher-revealed-troll-hunter? One would think from the first few minutes that this would either go the serious route concerning environmentalists, or the thriller route wherein something would go wrong in their misadventures. But the movie throws these expectations out of the window and gives us a story we never thought we wanted—namely, about Norwegian trolls.

One of the things that stood out to me was how each actor brought their own flare to the story. Thomas, their front man, is sometimes too curious for his own good and is the regular “eager beaver”. Johanna, who was skeptical for the most part, represented the superego in our heads that tell us these mystical creatures aren’t real. Hans, who could be considered the star of the show, juxtaposes the students as he answers all of their questions seriously and in a rugged fashion. Perhaps there is just something intriguing when it comes to finding out about closed off characters, and finding the humanity in them. Throughout the story, we get to learn that he used to be in the navy, and that he is barely compensated or recognized for risking his life for his job.

The film also made me appreciate the beauty and culture of Norway. Instead of learning about their landscapes and folklore from a boring informational tour, we get instead to learn them through the different dialogues the characters have, the scenic shots as they hunt trolls, and the authenticity and detail that they put into making the trolls believable. There were some facts that I found interesting that Hans would bring up, such as that their heads grow after they’re born, they like to eat concrete and charcoal, and even smell Christian blood. The most fascinating one was when the veterinarian was explaining to the students that with the use of the flash gun, it turns trolls into stone, as they can’t turn Vitamin D into calcium and their bodies overreact. They even put into some morality in them, saying that it’s quite traumatic for these trolls even just for a little while.

Overall, it was an entertaining, although draggy at parts, way to be introduced to Norway’s culture and lifestyle. We got to learn that most of them are actually non-practicing Christians in the film, although it seems like it is in passing. It also makes a reference to farmers and their problems with predators eating their livestock, or when power lines are needed to pass through wild life because of their regulations. All these easter eggs, cultural references, and stories add up to a very Norwegian kind of movie, but also enjoyable by outsiders because of the Hollywood-type elements as well. It is not meant to be confined by one genre, because ultimately, it should be allowed to portray the personality and mystery of Norway and its people and all of its facets—even if they are about something as seemingly absurd as trolls.

The first scene of Holy Motors tells the audience two things: this is about the art of film, and this is what you won’t expect it to be. Carax, the movie’s director, is seen opening the door into what seems to be a theatre. Everyone’s eyes are mesmerized onto what is on screen which is out of frame. Shots of the early works of scientist and early Chrono photographer Étienne-Jules Marey, and this gives us a look into what this narrative is about. Yet, as one tries to wrap their head around what the film means, it loses its meaning altogether.

We are introduced to a middle-aged man named Mr. Oscar, who is driven around in a limousine and has several “appointments” or acts. He dresses up and delves himself into completely different scenarios, giving the audience different reactions as well. From an old beggar, to a motion capture actor, to a red-haired madman, the possibilities of Lavant and his skills are virtually endless. But behind the scenes, after every act, he seems to be quite lonely and hopeless in the confines of his limousine. He tells of the man from the agency that what made him carry on is the beauty of the act, but he misses the cameras. This scene could symbolize that no matter how many times actors fall in love with their role and the art, a part of them seems missing when it comes to feeling fulfilled with their job. Perhaps it is because of the different masks that actors have to put on when they portray their roles, and how sometimes method acting can take a toll on one’s sanity.

Yet, what makes this film so melancholically beautiful is that it appreciates, and at the same time critiques, what filmmaking is. There are no connections whatsoever with all the different appointments, yet the viewers are glued to the screen and are invested to know what happens next. Perhaps the reason for this is that Carax does not want the audience to overthink or follow a linear narrative. Movies are made to entertain, and maybe even to reflect life and one’s deeper insights towards it. Through the different characters Oscar portrays, the different interactions he has with other people and actors, makes us think whether we are ever truly genuine with ourselves and others. The different scenes, although quite absurd, are not so far from what we experience in life. Love, chaos, beauty, life, death, are all universal themes that we experience and the art of film is what connects them together.

All in all, Carax does a wonderful job in paying an homage to cinema through Holy Motors. We get to appreciate the art form as it is without putting too much thought into it, because the meaning of things is subjective to each and every person. But at the same time, the overall somber mood that the film emanates makes us realize that film is dying. When Oscar says that “[The cameras] used to be heavier than us. Then they became smaller than our heads. Now you can’t see them at all,” it makes us reflect on what we consider entertainment and real film. As things such as reality television and online influencers start to emerge, we forget to appreciate film for what it is and all the effort that is put into making one. And for that, Holy Motors should be praised in all its confusing and surprise-filled glory.

Upon watching the first few minutes of the film, one can already establish that this is not your ordinary historical movie. It does not simply talk about the fall of the Berlin Wall and its effects on society as a whole, but does so in a charming tragicomedy that is Goodbye, Lenin!. It follows the story of a young man, Alex Kerner, and his undertaking with regards to trying to preserve the German Democratic Republic that his mother once knew and loved in order to keep her from having a fatal heart attack.

What I found the most appealing throughout the whole film was that it was able to cover a multitude of genres into one. It blends together historical events, drama, comedy, and even romance to the equation. At first glance, it might not seem to be a good idea to mix together all these in order to make a film, but Becker does an exceptional job in balancing the different kinds of emotions while trying to tell an odd, yet compelling story. One funny scene that stood out to me was when siblings Ariane and Alex were explaining to their mother what happened when she collapsed and fell into a coma. Alex conjured up a fake story saying, “It was in October, in the supermarket. There was this enormous queue and it was really hot and you just passed out.” After being asked by his mom, “In October?” he replied, “It was an unusually hot October day,” as the audience snickered. These scenes show us how the characters are all quirky in their own way, but likeable nonetheless.

Even though there were plenty of light-hearted scenes to get the ball rolling, a lot of the heavier ones still pulled at the audience’s heart strings. The overarching theme, which revolved around the juxtaposition of the old regime and what conspired after the fall of the Berlin Wall, was able to be told in a way that was still relevant to our times today. We are still experiencing many forms of discrimination, different mentalities in politics, and fights about values within the family. Politics, culture and morals are actually inevitable to be mixed together whether people realize it or not, and Goodbye, Lenin! does a good job putting this into light. Alex’s once miniscule idea of preserving the GDR within his mother’s room turned out to become one whole production including using the old condiment containers, placing old European furniture, and paying little kids to sing the anthem his mother wrote. It shows us that Alex’s world was conflicted and a part of him wanted to relive the nostalgia, he even said that the GDR he created might’ve become the one he wished for.

Throughout the whole movie, it was a ride of emotions and unexpected twists and turns. The audience went along with Alex’s masquerade and even rooted for him as he thought on his feet whenever he faced a roadblock. But in the end, it taught us to see the good in humanity, however flawed we might be. The film’s ending couldn’t have been any more appropriate, as Alex and his aspiring filmmaker friend Denis made one last fake news broadcast to explain the fall of the GDR to his mother. With a Sigmund Jähn lookalike as the “new leader” of East Germany, he goes on to explain that “Socialism means reaching out to others and living with other. Not just to dream about a better world, but to make the world a better place,” and that the GDR has “opened borders”. His mother died three days after hearing this, and her ashes were scattered in the wind through an old toy rocket. Alex’s narration after that is both sentimental, insightful, and uniquely his. Never did I think I would enjoy a movie so much about the reunification of Germany and the struggles of a son with his overly socialist mother, but Goodbye, Lenin! makes you do just that.

If there was one thing that The Five Obstructions taught me, it was that art is ever-changing. It is not a still life portrait that will forever be the same, even if it was recreated multitudes of times and by the same artist. Jorgen Leth challenges himself in this documentary by trying to recreate his short film The Perfect Human five times, but each time with a twist given by Lars von Trier. What seemed to be a fun game at first turned out to be a very gruesome and tiring experience for the director, as von Trier’s requests become more and more absurd throughout the documentary.

His first obstruction, which was that it must be set in Cuba without a studio and only twelve frames per shot. A regular viewer such as I found this very challenging, but Leth came out successful with an interesting remake, although quite dizzying to watch. It was fun to see the process behind the filmmaking, such as the film crew’s travel to Cuba, their process of picking the actors, and watching Leth direct. Once von Trier sees it though, he is unsatisfied and wants to test the director even further. The second obstruction was to film in the worst place in the world but not show it onscreen, and, additionally, Leth must play the main character.

Hearing “the worst place in the world” would already appear to be daunting for some, but the director quickly attributed the prompt to his experience in the red light district of Mumbai, where he encountered the slum area. Before they even reached their destination, it was disheartening to see a mother carrying her child asking for alms and food outside of Leth’s vehicle. Out of all of the obstructions, this was the most disturbing to watch since you could see the faces of the children as they saw Leth eat a fancy meal with a straight face right in front of them.

Upon seeing the second remake, von Trier says that Leth failed the task and wants him to go back to redo it as he wished. This is where the tension between the two starts to rise, since the latter says that it is too inhumane and he wouldn’t do it again. With his morals compromised, he decides to go with the other equally difficult option: to recreate his film in any way he chooses. As someone who also does art, it was frightening to have complete freedom over your art. Maybe it’s the external expectation, or the internal one that it should be better than the last, that affected Leth the most. Yet he was able to recreate it beautifully once again through a split-screen effect. Leth almost even breezed through the fourth obstruction, which was to make his film into a cartoon—a genre that both he and von Trier hate. He exceeded the audience’s expectations by creating one of the more beautiful masterpieces throughout the whole documentary, with the help of a professional animator.

The fifth and final obstruction was ironically the one that needed the least effort from Leth’s: that it would be made by von Trier but will be credited as the former’s work. It was unsettling to think that was possible to give so much power to someone over a film, but the output was interesting nonetheless. Overall, the documentary makes viewers think what it means to be a filmmaker and what is needed to make a good film. It relies on many things such as cinematography, editing, directing, acting, and the like, but also does not. What we learn from both von Trier and Leth is that films evoke emotions and thoughts from its audience, no matter the time, place and age, but one should still have fun in the process.