“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.”

Perhaps, there are certain things that you see or encounter that just leaves you in a space of discomfort, confusion, and a certain form of an odd illusion. Persona (1966) was just that for me. The film is, simply put, utterly strange in its own charming, artistic way. I am not one for interpreting such films, as something like Persona left my mind in absolute chaos. To this day, I still do not fully understand what the film truly means. But then, perhaps, that is part of the beauty of the whole thing. I might actually say that this film feels a lot like a horror film—a beautiful one, however. It disturbs me to the core, but it leaves so many beautiful marks at the same time. I remember talking to a few friends right after seeing the film in class, and telling them honestly that I would be totally up to watch it again if I had the chance to do so. 

Watching the relationship between Alma and Elisabeth Vogler unfold and progress throughout the entirety of the film was quite the experience. I found myself at the edge of my seat in every sequence, waiting for that moment wherein Elisabeth would finally speak after suffering that nervous breakdown that caused her to spiral into a case of anguish. The scenes of one-sided silences were somewhat eerie, and there was something so discomforting about the strangeness of some of the sequences. There was this one long scene that stands as the most highlighted portion of the film: it was when Alma exposes Elizabet’s past for her, the same monologue delivered twice in two different angles that showed each of the women’s reactions and expressions through it all. The film provided so many visuals and images that were disturbing to say the least, but it disturbed me to a point that I just seemingly wanted to keep figuring it out more and more. I could not seem to understand the latter portion of the film when things started to become confusing, with various scenes showing that the two women’s identities seem to have started overlapping and interconnecting, almost melding into just one shared persona, and that made things ultimately complicated for the two, whose friendship was already shaken and falling apart. The story line was truly complex, and I am sure that every one who watches it for the first time often finds themselves hungry for answers and for clarity due to all the questions that have popped up in their heads throughout the whole film experience. And obviously, in fact, I am indeed one of those people.

The director, Ingmar Bergman, once posed the question about the film: “What is true, and when and how does one tell the truth, if there is such a thing?”. Perhaps, the film left me asking more and more questions and never actually gave me any concrete answers, but perhaps, the second time around, I’ll fall in love with its strange charm even more.

La’aventura was perhaps the most unsatisfying movie I have seen so far. The plot of the movie seemed quite simple at the start. It begins by showing Anna, a wealthy socialite, who has plans to go to an island with her friends. However, when she and her friends arrive on the island, Anna suddenly disappears after having an argument with her fiancé, Sandro. The group of friends begin to search for Anna, but she seems to have magically disappeared from the island. Although the characters still look for Anna throughout the film, her disappearance suddenly becomes a background plot midway in the movie. Rather, the plot shifs from a mystery to the unlikely love story between Sandro, and Anna’s best friend, Claudia.

The sudden change of protagonist and the relegation of Anna as a mere background character left me quite upset since Anna was built up to be the main character in the beginning of the film. In addition, she seemed to have many more stories to tell with the way the film had set her background as an unhappy rich girl, whose father was an ambassador. In comparison, the film never gave a proper background to Claudia except being Anna’s best friend. Although this was the case, Anna suddenly became forgotten in the film and became merely an afterthought. In fact, most of the characters seemed to have forgotten her midway through the film, aside from Claudia and Sandro. For Sandro, however, he seemed only interested in finding Anna to please Claudia. This was one of the reasons why I was quite unhappy with the film. Most of the characters seemed to be so selfish and never really cared for their missing friend. The way they even commented on her disappearance seemed so harsh that I doubted they were friends in the first place. In fact, the only person I considered decent in the movie was Claudia since she seemed to be the only one with a conscience in the film. Other characters seemed to act on impulse and not even think whether what they were doing was right or wrong.

Although I have to commend Director Antonioni for his amazing camera work. As seen by the beautiful long camera shots seen throughout the movie. The way the characters were written made the movie quite unappealing to me which negated even the stunning cinematography. In addition, he never gave a proper closure to the movie and just made more questions by the end. For example, “What happened to Anna?”, “Did Sandro and Claudia end up together?”, and many more. These questions were so relevant to the plot that they needed to be answered. In fact, the question “What happened to Anna?” was what kept me watching the film despite me hating most of the characters. Although La’aventura might be good movie if one were to watch it for its cinematography, if one were to watch it for the plot then I would be afraid they would be quite disappointed. The movie just seemed rather pretentious to me.