The film and media industry is truly competitive and intimidating for majority of the people in the field are, let’s just say, attention-hungry, fame-thirsty, and perhaps, even greedy. However, who can really blame them? It takes years and years to master a skill in writing a perfect screenplay, learning how to expertly use a professional camera, figuring out how to portray a hundred characters on stage, and even set design takes a long time to master and learn. The Five Obstructions (2004) is a “documentary” shot film that shows two Danish film makers and directors having the sparring battle of their life: creating a perfect “The Perfect Human” through Von Trier’s unconventional remake of Leth’s short film.

“…a little gem that we are now going to ruin,”

The film was playful and interesting for the way it was shot and sequenced was pretty new and unconventional. The two characters of the story were also quite the personalities, with their competitiveness and confident arrogance battling against each other. Von Trier, already being a successful man, grew more and more and more frustrated with how Leth was still handling the obstructions he offered with much grace and expertise, causing him to push for more drastic conditions and limitations in an attempt to ruin his efforts. Honestly, it was quite a relief and it was entertaining to witness the constant failing attempts of Von Trier to ruin Leth’s career with his obstructions, and how Leth continues to stay composed throughout it all. To what extent could he finally make Leth spiral down and ruin his perfect film of “The Perfect Human”? The ways he tried to do so were very entertaining and amusing, nonetheless.

As someone who is pursuing film and media as well, the struggle to come up with perfection after every content made and produced and created rings true to this day and age. Especially in this day and age, actually. The competition out in the creative field becomes stronger and stronger as more developments and more ideas are coming to life, and the struggle that Von Trier showcased is something very relatable as well to a lot of people in the creatives. Von Trier seemed to have always been chasing something that was perfect, grand, excellent, brilliant, and great, and to witness someone of perfect composure and graceful expertise can shake one’s confidence. However, in the process of trying to ruin Leth through the obstructions and the limitations, he just allowed Leth to become more and more free to create something that was ultimately better than the ones before it. It was in this spontaneity that perfection was born out of. And perhaps, that’s something pretty hard to grasp as well. I really felt for Von Trier’s constant frustration, which may have been amusing at the same time, but pitiful nonetheless. I empathized with his struggles, however, still applauding Leth for his constant bouncing back.

This is a film about a game that just keeps going wrong for the game master, and sometimes, there are just certain things that we have to let go of. Remember: there is always a loser in competition. What a battle, indeed.

Timecrimes (2007) by Nacho Vigalondo, also called Los Cronocrimenes is a Spanish science fiction and thriller piece that is honestly a brilliant and absolutely engaging movie. Despite the low budget production and the few elements of glitz and glamour as with all of the other films, the action and fantasy was not reduced nor affected at all. For some reason, the film felt very realistic, personal, and easy to digest, as it was simple in its own charming way, and I generally felt that it was seemingly a lot easier to connect to such a humble production like this. The complexity of the story line allowed me to find myself on the edge of my seat for a lot of the time that I was viewing and watching the film.

As with all other time traveling plots and narratives, certain gaps in their story line will always be inevitable. However, I think this just leaves more room and space for the imagination to run wild and to fill in the spaces ourselves. I also really found myself appreciating the fact that it shed light on the consequences of time traveling and not just the whole thrill of it, as it makes it easier to connect with and wrap our head around. It also helps how there were certain little pockets of humour and wittiness injected into some of the scenes, perfectly timed and allows space to breathe after all of the mystery, twists, turns, and intrigue. Hector’s journey through time and space was entertaining to say the least, as he struggled to find his way to the end of the time loop, all in the graces of grief, patience, and humor.

At this point in time, I personally find that European cinema seems to hold this special charm of how it always subtly finds an intricate, fascinating way to keep its audiences and viewers engaged: always allowing them to feel as if they are part of the film itself, be it through breaking the fourth wall or leaving your mind boggled with millions of questions, it really makes the genre a lot more special and distinguishable from traditional American or Western film. I have said this before in an earlier review, but European films often find ways to disturb you, in a good way, and leaves you hanging and wanting more. I appreciate the complexity of the genre’s films, and Timecrimes is just one of the many perfect examples of it. This film found a way to make coherent a complex and complicated story line, and made sure that its audiences are still actively using their imagination in filling in certain gaps of the story, and allowed us to think critically and to put ourselves in the shoes of the main character, Hector, as he navigates his way through dealing with the time loop that he was frustratingly stuck in. I would genuinely recommend this to friends and colleagues who are looking to begin their European cinema viewing experience, as this would be a good kick start.

Strange, discomforting, and disturbing: perhaps, three words that would encapsulate feeling of watching L’Avventura (1960) by Michelangelo Antonioni. European cinema has already made its impression on me, and I started learning to appreciate the gentle, strange charm that the genre has. Often times, it disturbs you to a level of confusion, fascination, and intrigue; a good one, that is. The same goes for my viewing experience with L’Avventura, directly translated to The Adventure. And oh, what an adventure it truly was. The three main characters, Anna, Sandro, and Claudia created a story line that was utterly frustrating, to say the least. A friendship in rocks, perhaps. The scenes of betrayal, cheating, and going behind each others’ backs were confusing to me, but I knew that it was part of the feeling that the film wanted to stir in the emotions of its audiences and viewers. It was honestly funny how it took Sandro and Claudia a long time to realize that Anna had gone missing–tragic, yet absolutely and darkly funny. Anna had gone and left, and Sandro and Claudia took this and interpreted it as an opportunity to fall treacherously in love, until Sandro goes off and runs to Gloria.

Honestly, it felt difficult for me to build a personal connection or attachment to the characters of the film, as their intentions and the foundation of their characters were hard to wrap my head around. Although there were a lot of visually stunning scenes, and interesting dialogues in some portions of the film, it kind of felt too dragging and it was hard to invest in the story line of the film. There was no climax that peaked my interest, per say. And it did not really help that it was in black and white (although, despite my complicated relationship with black and white, uncolored films, there were a few that I have seen before that were very interesting and engaging). Perhaps, that is what the filmmaker behind the movie tried to chase, it was the dullness that made it charming, but it was something that film viewers and audiences might have to prepare themselves for. An acquired taste, perhaps. For some reason, the film also felt very lonely and sad to me. It radiated that kind of vibe and energy, and it felt miserable, almost. Another point of confusion for me was the fact the Anna, the missing fiancee, was never found ever again. It was as if the film never gave any closure, never giving any clarity as to what happened or where she had gone. It was an unsettling feeling, and it was just another one of the many mysteries of the film that I still, to this day, cannot seem to comprehend or uncover.

“Tell me you love me,”
“I love you!”
“Tell me you don’t love me,”
“I don’t love you.”

Maybe, it was a good way to put the romance between our main characters Sandro and Claudia in a nutshell. They showed and presented a story of fidelity battling with eroticism and lust for another, and it was frustrating watching them go back and forth with these struggles. Oh, how complicated love was.

“Destiny is a gift. Some go their entire lives, living existence as a quiet desperation. Never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon our shoulders, is actually, a sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights. Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valour, that to strive and triumph in the face of fear, is what is means to be a hero. Don’t think, Master Jim. Become!”

All I knew were the monsters under my bed. Maybe, they weren’t so bad after all. Trollhunter (2010) is a mock documentary by Andre Ovredal that was horrific but humorous in its own charming way. Perhaps, widely categorized and labeled as a supernatural horror film, that took a dig and a shot at Nordic humor and allowed a monstrous story line to unfold and develop. In true Blair Witch Project style, footage was found that aimed to pursue the honest truth about trolls and if they are legitimately for real or not. Tracking and following the daily life of woodsman Hans, the team of students end up coming face to face with a creature that was unexpected. Norwegian stories and folklore have been talking about the existence of these beastly trolls, and there it was: their confirmation of its existence.

Honestly, while I was watching the film, I thought that it felt like it was dragging for far too long, especially during the earlier parts of the film. I was impatiently expecting something big, exciting, and thrilling from a monster film, and it really did take quite a while for me to be able to relax, sit back, and enjoy what was about to come. However, when the story started rolling in and focusing on the government conspiracies and, of course, all the monster scenes, I found myself enjoying it better. It’s also helpful to point out that this may be interesting as a lot of people nowadays are heavily invested in uncovering conspiracy theories and trying to discover the dark secrets of our high authorities like the government and the Church, so this film may, perhaps, be interesting to a lot of people who may end up stumbling upon it. Admittedly, I am not a big beastly creature fan myself, although the film Trollhunter may have presented the genre to me in a new light. Who goes into a troll hunting business anyway? I, however, have always been interested in old history culture and how certain groups and communities from different geographical locations have certain folklores, stories, and mythical creatures under their belt, and to see that element in the film was fascinating. Imagine if Philippine cinema invested in our rich, abundant collections of stories created back in the day? Our fantasy films would be so much more interesting! It would feel very personal and at the same time, would educate us about the rich history of our culture and heritage. Perhaps, that remains another thought for the future. Keeping my fingers crossed, though.

“…symphonic post-apocalyptic reindeer-grinding Christ-abusing extreme war pagan Fennoscandian metal.”

As a musician and someone who generally just thinks the world of music, I found myself thoroughly invested as I was really enjoying every bit of this film. Perhaps, not for the faint-hearted—I can just imagine my mom gasping with her palm flat on her chest, uttering a “…a disgrace!” under her breath as she tries to wrap her head around how someone could possibly sing the way Turo does—the dark humor was really what made this film solid for me. I remember telling my friend how much this film resonated well with our sense of humor–those small gags that were utterly dumb yet landed well, a certain charm that was seemingly an acquired taste for, I guess, a lot of people. It was quite entertaining as well how the film shamelessly takes digs at the very core concept of its narrative: black metal. From the highly graphic projectile vomiting, to Pasi’s sad interjections and his eventual make-up and costume by the latter part of the film, Heavy Trip was some sort of parody that just made sense. I let out a lot of laughs throughout my viewing experience of the film, especially in the near end portions, when they were already close to fulfilling their dream of performing in the Norwegian Festival, Northern Damnation. Heck, they literally thought they went to hell and back just to get there. Their journey to superstardom was laced with so much humor, and yet, I felt so much need to empathize with the characters as they experienced their own fair shares of highs and lows, celebrations and griefs, and most of all, the friendship they built together as the adventures strengthened their brotherhood (it was even the whole ‘til death do us part shenanigans, with the three bringing Paul’s casket and deceased body with them to Norway… even on stage).

Have you ever met someone who is so distastefully weird, yet, that peculiarity in character is what makes them so worthy of keeping in your life? I’ve got quite a handful of friends like this, and I see it a lot in the main characters of the story: the legends of Impaled Rektum. Honestly, it could even be said that the film, perhaps, added a more human element to our general concept of heavy metal. At the core of it all, there was still heart and humble beginnings: these four people from a small town just finding their way home to where they could play and live out their greatest passion for music. All in all, Heavy Trip was perhaps one of my favorite films from Euro Film class, and it was just the perfect way for me to say goodbye to the course and to my last Communications elective ever. I will never forget such charming (in their own dark and special way) characters, and would actually go back to re-watch the film again if I had the chance.

And, don’t even get me started on how that one, single song they played throughout the whole film is still stuck in my head. Impaled in my brain, perhaps. And yet, I don’t really seem to mind.

“All the world’s a stage.” (William Shakespeare, As You Like It)

Jean-Luc Godard’s A Woman is a Woman (Une Femme est une Femme) delves into an interesting take on experimental artistry as it gives you a film viewing experience like no other. As someone who grew up exposed to American film, to see such a film that strayed away from traditional cinematic techniques was rather interesting. The film begins with hauntingly disturbing audio cuts, silences emitting a confused “oh no- is that a technical difficulty?” from the class, with a theatrical framework that further enabled the plot’s creative yet quite peculiar use of wit and humor. This film was one of my very first experiences of being exposed to European film and all that it had to offer, and I would say that I am incredibly confused but at the same time, deliciously disturbed, for lack of a better term. Honestly, I suppose the absurdity of it all allowed me to see past all of the surreal components of the story line and the narrative and inject some humor into my viewing experience. There was this one strange scene that still boggles my mind: who the heck rides a bicycle inside their apartment for minutes and hours on end, just circling around the same path over and over and over and over again?

This film is a love story like no other. I found myself highly and perhaps, frustratingly intrigued by the characters of Angela and Alfred, living off of a love that was a push and pull. There were a lot of moments of stubbornness showcased by both characters, and darn, did I just want them to fix whatever problems they were facing throughout the timeline of the story. It was also frustrating and resonated well with me how Angela struggled to be understood by her partner: the constant gender debate about how different male and female contexts are and how these may present difficulties in relationships with the opposite sex. The relationship sometimes felt like they were going through child’s play, and I felt a certain sense of immaturity even in the way they fought and eventually, made up and reconciled with the handy use of their bookshelf.

The film felt incredibly theatrical, and it felt like watching a staged play, even starting off with an opening sequence that showed the glamorous, classy, elegant title of Once Upon A Time. There were also a lot of scenes that mildly put me in unease: the characters looking straight to the camera, starting into your soul. This is generally not a usual thing to do in films, but this film was something else. It did, however, add to the whole charm of the film in the larger scheme of things. It added a sense of wonder, and made it feel more personal as it tried its best to break the fourth wall. It is, indeed, a masterpiece as said in the film.

As said in the film, I also do not know “whether this is a comedy or a tragedy”.

Honestly, I could easily say that I really have never been the kind of movie buff who liked, enjoyed, or at least, appreciated gory films. I have always been the type to end up becoming so squeamish in the presence of too much blood. I, however, am a big fan of horror films. I would say that it might honestly be my favorite film genre. You could just imagine how much excitement I felt when I found out that we were watching Raw, a 2016 French-belgian horror and drama film by Julia Ducournau. I watched the film without any idea of what’s going to happen—no research done beforehand, no knowledge on what the plot was about, and no preparation for the cannibalism that was about to be shown on screen. Just in the beginning of the film, the circumstances were already showing signs of what this film was going to be about: a vegetarian teenager who aspired to become a veterinarian. Soon enough, due to the school’s hazing rituals, you see her drenched in blood, initially, even expressing disgust and aversion to eating a rabbit kidney. Let us just say that every thing spiraled downwards from here.

A story that generally revolves around a coming-of-age story between two sisters, the concept of “learning the ropes” was shown through the horrific changes that Justine went through in her process of exploration and adventure, in her journey of finding her identity as she entered young adulthood, presented through carnage and sexuality. I still remember the initial twisting in my stomach as I watched Justine chomp down greedily on her sister, Alexia’s finger as she laid meters away from her, unconscious and having absolutely no idea of what kind of mess was happening in the room. For some odd reason, I found myself in so many strange fits of giggles—the same case goes with any other gory and horror film that I watch—the absurdity of the situation moved me to laughter that I couldn’t even explain myself. It was quite the experience, honestly, and from an objective standpoint, I would say with full confidence that Raw is indeed, one of the best horror films I have ever seen in a long time. The characters were complex and fascinating in their own little ways as well, and I was looking forward to seeing the development and progress between the relationship of the two sisters who were navigating their way through life.

The ending sequence was also absolutely brilliant in my opinion. I still, however, have a few questions in mind after the film came to a close. So, is this whole thing genetic? What exactly causes this weird phenomenon and practice that was actually shared by the line of women in the family? All I know now is that Raw was quite the viewing experience: carnal yet classy and intimate in its own special, grotesque way. And dear God, would I ever get that image of the waxing gone wrong scene out of my head?

The German-Austrian crime drama film shows a kind of friendship that, I suppose it’s say to say, pretty unusual and unconventional. Jan and Peter were the perfect imagery of two young adult misfits who just wanted to find their place and belongingness in a world that was socially and politically topsy turvy. We know where you live and we are watching you – a message that the two “edukators” wanted to express in their nightly adventures of breaking into rich peoples’ homes and rearranging all of their stuff, with absolutely zero intention to steal or destroy any of it. It is a pretty weird agenda to wrap one’s head around. Jan develops an intimate and super close friendship with Jule aka Peter’s girlfriend and significant other, and decides to give her permission to join in on his next escapade, now with a wealthy man named Hardenberg as the target, giving Jule the opportunity to pay revenge to the man who caused her heaving financial struggles. The relationship and dynamic of the four (yes, this includes the man they made to suffer aka Hardenberg) developed into something extremely complex and, honestly, pretty weird as they journeyed towards a far flung place in order to give the edukators time to figure out what their next game plan was, giving them room to bounce back from the slip up that they had experienced. It was really interesting and refreshing as well to witness such passionate young anti-capitalist activists who were not violent (or at least, intentionally) and still had genuine wholesome fun in their experiences of protest and rebellion.

I was thoroughly confused throughout the film but just a few minutes in, I was honestly already hooked because it seemed interesting. With Daniel Bruhl making a comeback after seeing him act for the first time in Goodbye Lenin!, he did not disappoint with his performance in this film yet again. It is always interesting how films take different varieties of approaches in making socially and politically relevant messages for their target audiences. This film had a milder take compared to Goodbye Lenin!. Nonetheless, the love triangle dynamic was something that I could not quite put my finger on: it was distracting, frustrating, but utterly entertaining at the same time. That incredibly strange sequence in the near end of the film when Peter found out about Jan and Jule was honestly humorous to me, as there were scenes that were discomfortingly funny and awkward, despite the tension that the situation was supposed to bring. Intelligent use of musical scoring as well, with Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley playing in the most random times.

All in all, The Edukators was a special charm of a movie, and begged us to ask questions about societal structures and systems, as well as the humanity behind all of the glitz and glamor that we try to chase in our every day lives. This may be one of my favorite films from the class, and I would love to look back and re-watch again if I had the chance to do so.

“What makes you carry on, Oscar?”

“What made me start: the beauty of the act!”

“Beauty? They say it’s in the eye… the eye of the beholder,”

“And, if there is no more beholder?”

Holy moly, was this film something else. From the stellar performances, the surreal and unbelievable scripts and storylines and roles, to the odd sequences that they really managed to pull off, the film was truly something else and it is something that any one would remember for a long time.

As soon the opening sequence rolled in, I did not really know what to expect out of the film. Monsieur Oscar bids his family farewell as he enters this long, sleek white stretch chauffer-driven limousine and answers a phone call, telling who ever is at the other end of the line that he is well set to go and do his job… his co-called “appointments” that were, in fact, pretty unusual and unconventional the way one would expect them to actually go. He exits the vehicle and suddenly, we are faced with the character of an elderly woman frolicking around the streets and begging for money. At this point, I was already in the peak of confusion. What the heck was happening? Honestly, I do not think it even immediately registered to me that this man’s appointments actually meant living parts of his days as an elderly beggar, an assassin, a strange creature who lived in a sewer, a grumpy father, and an old man on his deathbed. He internalized these roles so naturally, and there were absolutely no questions nor objections made throughout these booked appointments. It was also interesting how his limousine was mobile dressing room, where all of his characters and roles are created and, eventually, come to life. There were quite a number of scenes that left me confused, mouth gaped wide open as I try to make sense of what I was actually seeing right in front of me. To this day, I, perhaps, still do not know. The film really tried to disturb one to the core, showing things that were absolutely absurd, unreal, and too strange to be true, and changes up with no explanation at all. But I never had time to question any of it, nor did I really feel the need to challenge it further. Films just do that — present us with the strangest of sequences and narratives and characters, and we do nothing but accept that this is the world that exists at the moment. The ending sequence was also pretty confusing, although humorous in some way, it was strange to witness a whole long scene of cars just talking amongst themselves as if it were a normal thing that you would see in your every day. However, Holy Motors was a film that felt like a true classic, and something that I would recommend people who are interested in European Film to watch and indulge in themselves. As Monsieur Oscar even says, “I have a plan to go mad”.

Good Bye Lenin! was perhaps, one of my favorite films throughout the whole entirety of the class, as it felt intimate and personal despite the story revolving around a context that was far out of my reach. For someone who barely had any idea of the specifics of what really happened and went down during the fall of the Berlin Wall, the way the film was presented and sequenced still allowed me to kind of catch up and get on the flow of things. However, besides gaining more knowledge on the details of Germany’s history, I was really fascinated by the narrative set by the story about a boy and his mother, and two siblings trying to navigate their way through big changes in their lives.

“These are 30,000 East Marks! That was our money, for 40 damn years! Now you, you Western fuck, you want to tell me it’s worth nothing?”, Alex remarked frustratingly. The shift in political ideology meant the currencies meant nothing, and the end of the revolution was the beginning of a massive change awaiting to happen. I honestly felt uncomfortable and uneasy in all the scenes of Alex and the mother, finding myself at the edge of my seat because I was always worried that the mother would eventually find out about all of the lies and fabrications done by the people around her, just so she would not see what is actually happening outside of the time capsule bedroom that she was practically imprisoned in for reality would most likely break her heart, perhaps, both literally and figuratively.

I honestly resonated well with the characters, as they tried to navigate their way through adulthood and the changes that it brought to their lives. In the face of a capitalist, materialist society, life is fast paced and horribly confusing, and often times, the world seems to constantly take away one’s sense of security and stability. Ariane even had to give up her prestigious economics degree from university and ended up working in Burger King where every day seems like it was exactly the same as yesterday—lines rehearsed, smiles practiced, hours counted, and body already trained to get into the routine of things. It was a painful reality that I could still see happening even to this day. As someone who is graduating soon, it always worries me as well how I am ever going to find a sense of belongingness and security again in these days wherein life is so quick and it always seems like every day is a battle for survival, just like what Alex and Ariane had to deal with. I think majority of the film was really also about a group of youth learning to let go and get the hang of things, which I felt was relatable to a lot of us who watched it.

“The country my mother left was a country she had believed in, and which we kept alive until her last second. A country that in fact never existed like this. A country that in my memory will always be connected to my mother.”