LFF: Lore Review

Director/Writer: Cate Shortland

Starring: Saskia Rosendahl, Kai Malina, Nele Trebs, Andre Fird, Mika Seidel, Ursina Lardi, Hans-Jochen Wagner

Plot: After their father and mother are taken to prison for involvement in the Nazi regime, Lore (Rosendahl) and her brothers and sister venture to Hamberg on foot to find sanctuary at their aunt’s house. Along their journey a mysterious young man (Malina) follows behind, eventually trying to join their group for indefinite reasons.

It is not always a sin to exploit the rich history of Germany in film – when the outcome is good more people can become educated and opinionated about the most pivotal area of Germanic history, World War II. Even some of the bravest directors opt out of making their own Holocaust film (Kubrick famously gave up after months of nightmare-inducing research) and so when one director tactfully shines a light on that particular period, it is usually noteworthy. For Cate Shortland’s Lore the result is quite astounding, especially as Shortland is an Australian director whose previous experience has only included three films, two television programmes and three shorts. The level of detail in Lore – artistically – is up to par with legendary European directors such as Michael Haneke and Andrey Tarkovsky, doubtlessly bound to do wonders for Shortland’s career. Tarkovsky is an obvious inspiration for Lore and sweeping shots of fields, matched with the finer close-ups of materials and movement are agreeably reminiscent of 1975’s Mirror.

Visually, Lore is a feast of textures, incredibly atmospheric and involving. Its major fault is the various cracks in the narrative’s momentum that can often leave shots lingering too long (however dazzling they may be). As much as performance is intrinsic to the success and fascination of this film, shots are meticulously crafted to reflect the closeness of the brothers and sisters, aside the substantial ruin of a post-war Germany – resulting in wonderful photographic close-ups and panoramic wide-shots.

It is, at points, a slow film that requires a lot of attention – the pictorial cinematography acting partly as a photographic companion to the heavy, novelistic journey of Lore and her siblings. Some sequences are focused upon for too long but by and large it is a compelling story. Saskia Rosendahl and Kai Malina give awards-worthy performances to maintain the thrills and drama throughout (through no fault of their own their allure is jeopardised by slow or ambiguous moments in the film’s screenplay). Malina is an enigmatic but striking screen presence with a piercing glance that emotes his diffident character more than words ever could. His supposed Jewish heritage is often ignored as to not become a cheap dramatic device, but on the occasion when it is brought under scrutiny the shock of the country’s feigned defensive prejudice (or, more specifically, Lore’s) stresses the fragility of the country’s mind to great effect. What’s more, the ambivalent relationship he shares with Lore is intriguing aspect to Lore’s already-complex life. Rosendahl as the eponymous character is the strongest aspect of the whole film; she can do no wrong for the film and carries it with sensational grace and skill. Big things will emerge for each child star in this film and with Rosendahl even able to speak English and having a genuine, wholesome beauty, she will triumph in a number of ways thanks to her starring role.

Such a confident, intelligent and mature piece of cinema; it is a pleasant surprise to learn of its elementary genus. In for the Official Competition at the London Film Festival it may come out on top for its sophisticated exploration of maturity, loss, life and family – rivalled perhaps by Haneke’s Amour looking at similar themes. No matter how it fares for the 56^th LFF, Lore will be a new classic from Germany; one to study and share with film, literature and history fanatics.

****

By Piers McCarthy. Also posted on LiveForFilms

LFF: Amour Review

Director/Writer: Michael Haneke

Starring: Jean-Louis Trintignant, Emmanuelle Riva, Isabelle Huppert

Plot: Georges (Trintignant) and Anne (Riva) are in the eighties and still happily married. Their zest for life remains uncontested until Anne becomes seriously ill and suffers a stroke. Georges is left to wait on her hand and foot, with daughter Eva (Huppert) occasionally checking in, and wonders if life for the both of them is still worth living.

Michael Haneke’s films regularly revolve around the subject of division – concerning matters within the film or outside of it. With Amour the prospect of people impressed by it is quite high whilst the notion of them enjoying it will likely be low. Amour scrupulously examines an elderly couple’s companionship and love with the frightful prospect of one of them becoming horribly ill. The film emphasises on themes such as care, devotion and doubt, never once pardoning itself for looking closely at matters of moral ambiguity. It leaves you extremely deflated by its end, to a point where the lingering silence felt throughout the film blurs into its aftermath (you can count on unadulterated silence from the audience once the credits roll).

Haneke always invites his audience to think deeply over what he examines and whereas that can sometimes be obscure (such as The 7^th Continent, Funny Games and Benny’s Video), Amour is the most immediate film he’s ever written and directed. Georges and Anne Laurent are a couple that have grown old together yet still feel invigorated by one another’s company; it takes one catatonic attack and subsequent stroke that truly tests their love. It is a universal story made particularly relevant by brushing over the taboo subject of euthanasia. Anne’s slow deterioration (masterfully portrayed by Emmanuelle Riva) and her husband’s dedication at keeping her as healthy and happy as possible (Jean-Louis Trintignant outstanding in the role) is a haunting tale that despite being painful and upsetting to watch at points, finds itself to be a stirring cinematic experience.

Starting his film career at the age of 46, Haneke always came off as a mature director (both for his age and the content of his films) and Amour unequivocally supports that impression. He is not a director recognised for bravado but rather meditative forms of story-telling that do not impinge on the story; Amour is his most solemn look at the human condition. So blunt and simple is Haneke’s approach to a story like this that it involves you on a level more than you’d think possible. When Haneke’s trademark static shot gets implemented for scene it enforces you to be attentive, giving you more chance to sense the pressure of Anne and Georges’ life. As the film takes place in a Parisian apartment for almost its entire run, the feeling of immobility and confinement (that Georges and, specifically, Anne are suffering with) is overwhelming. Haneke’s constant choice to leave out a score may not always work wonders for the atmospheres he creates in some films, but with this it is a triumphant decision. The diegetic sound of the apartment and mostly that alone, adds to the desolate mood, compelling you beyond regular filmic strategies.

Another great from Michael Haneke yet maybe his most disconcerting and alienating film to date. Chances are, Amour will generate a bigger audience than any of his other films but that will also bring about audiences unfamiliar with his style who will not be expecting such a slow and distressing illustration of this subject matter. A very depressing film – adding to the fear in all our hearts about the fragility of the human mind and body – but one that is commendable through its sophistication and inspirational thanks to its humanism.

****

By Piers McCarthy. Also posted on LiveForFilms