Comedy is probably the genre I have the most loose taste in. People are often surprised to hear that I love films like Anchorman, Airplane and Hot Shots Part Deux as well as the films of Buster Keaton or Chaplin when most of my favourite films are fairly depressing. The one thing in comedy I really can't stand is the awkward comedy, the film or TV show that delights in making you squirm in discomfort. Whisky is a well made film, but near enough epitomises this niche.
When Jacobo, a socially-awkward sock factory owner, hears that his successful brother is coming to visit him, he asks his similarly introverted employee, Marta, to pose as his wife to make him appear well-to-do.
Each character is well fleshed out and superbly acted. The distance between the two brothers is painfully felt and Marta's difficulty in communication is shown to hide a childlike compassion and warmth. The technical aspects of the film are all well executed. The slow pace wrings out every last drop of discomfort from the scenes and the stark, cold cinematography emphasises the emptiness in the character's lives.
The directing duo do a superb job here, the film is subtly well-observed and focused solely on the three main characters. There is no dressing up or contrived sub-plots here, and the film is all the better for it.
Personally I didn't enjoy Whisky. By the halfway point, I was waiting for it to end so I could watch something a bit less awkward. It is certainly not a bad film though. Many will find joy in the Coenesque repetition coupled with very real characters. Fans of Jim Jarmush, Aki Kaurismaki should definitely look this up. If my earlier review of Noi Albonoi made you watch the film and you enjoyed it, give this a try too.
Note: The film is called Whisky as it is the word used to make people smile for photographs.
Into unknown territory for me with a film from Africa.
Why I chose this: Easily the most famous Senegalese film-maker and accredited by many as the father of African film, Ousmane Sembène was an easy choice for director. Moolaadé had been on my watchlist for some time, so I decided that this was the perfect time to watch it.
This marked a milestone in my film-viewing in that it was the first African film I had ever seen. After years of watching more Russian and Japanese films than any Scotsman should have business seeing, I found it very interesting to be introduced to a culture completely different from that which I am used to. What could push a Westerner out of their comfort zone more than a film about female circumcision?
Collé is the second of her husband's three wives. When four young girls who have escaped the "purification" ceremony come to her, she grants them Moolaadé (meaning 'magical protection' in Bamanankan), which prevents other villagers from entering the lot on pain of divine wrath. Thus begins a political, philosophical and moral battle with her community to protect not only the girls in her trust, but also future generations who would otherwise be subjected to the awful ceremony.
Moolaadé is not a subtle film - but how could it be? Sembène unrelentingly attacks the tradition at any chance he gets, attempting to expose all of its horrors. Whenever the elders are questioned as to the advantages of such an act, they simply reply that it's traditional, or that it is required by Islam (exposed as a complete falsehood by the end of the film). It isn't unnecessarily graphic, but shows you enough for just your imagination to make some scenes sickening.
The film is beautiful and virtuosic, coming in equal parts from the sweeping shots of the village's colourful, alien vistas and the just as colourful folk score. These are enhanced by the wonderful garbs worn by the women, making the film a visual and aural pleasure.
Although, on the surface Sembène simply deals head on with the subject matter, the themes are far more universal than that. Most anyone will be able to identify with a people held back by pointless tradition and an unwillingness to embrace the future, be it in your country or even within your family.
Moolaadé is a great piece of political and educational film-making, succeeding both as an argument and as visual art. Although some viewers may raise issue with the intensely one-sided view which the film takes, or perhaps with the brutality of the subject matter, it is inarguably an important work which will hopefully be observed and taken to heart in years to come.
