I was just about to sign up
for a week’s free trial of the Mubi streaming service, in order to see a
specific film (Decision to Leave, reviewed here),
when I saw an ad offering an introductory special of 3 months for $1, so I
jumped at that, and then looked around to see what else was to be seen on the
channel.
Alcarràs was a place to start (MC-85), the title of Carla
Simón’s multiple-award-winning film a Catalan region in northeast Spain, where
it centers on an extended family running a peach farm. After Summer 1993, Simón again brings
attentive observation to a cast of nonprofessional actors, especially children,
in rural conditions. I love the way she
puts you into the middle of the story without preamble or introduction, letting
the details of the relationships among the three generations emerge
organically, captured by a ceaselessly roving camera. Beyond the family itself, and the intimate
details of harvesting peaches, there are reverberations from the wider world,
after their peach orchards are threatened with displacement by a solar farm. I was thrilled by this quietly realistic,
deeply sympathetic film, the antithesis of a “thriller.”
Mathieu Amalric directs but
does not appear in Hold Me Tight (MC-82), which is held
together by a commanding performance from Vicky Krieps, playing a mother coming
to grips with the loss of her family – husband, pianist daughter, and
treehouse-dwelling son. Her coping
mechanism is to project herself into alternate realities, where the family is
reconfigured in various ways, in kaleidoscopic shifts of light and
perspective. It’s meant to be confusing,
to reflect the protagonist’s own confusion, and succeeds wonderfully, helped by
lovely cinematography and music, and fine performances all round. A mystery to be experienced rather than
solved.
Playground (MC-86)
is the bitterly ironic English title of the Belgian film Un monde, where
a schoolyard becomes a battleground, a world of its own where characters are
forged in fire, and bullying is contagious.
In Laura Wandel’s debut feature as writer-director, the Dardenne
brothers have found a spiritual sister.
For 72 piercing minutes, the frame is filled by the face of a 7-year-old
girl as she confronts first grade and its attendant agonies. Sometimes the camera circles around and we
follow her, seeing her narrow world from her waist-high perspective. From any angle, Maya Vanderbeque delivers a
profound and astounding performance.
She’s Nora, who starts out clinging to her slightly older brother, but
gradually becomes his protector in turn, and then his antagonist, as juvenile violence
gets passed around like the flu.
Mr. Bachmann and His
Class (MC-89) is
an outstanding documentary. Director
Maria Speth is like a kinder, gentler Frederick Wiseman, and over the course of
217 minutes she follows an inspired teacher and his class of sixth graders
through a school year. In an industrial
town in Germany , the class is a polyglot mix of recent immigrants
with those born there of immigrant parents, all “guest workers” from countries
ranging from Morocco to Azerbaijan . The teacher
is quite a character (from the generation just after the ’68ers), and the kids
are a charming mix of personalities and backgrounds. The time it takes to know them never drags,
and is ultimately quite uplifting, as well as funny and penetrating.
The Polish film Corpus Christi (MC-77)
was an Oscar nominee a few years back, and I found it worth watching, in a
Bressonian sort of way. It’s handsomely
directed and features a lead performance of startling intensity, as a paroled
convict who impersonates a village priest and finds his calling. The actor’s eyes are magnetically strange,
and well-adapted to either dissipation or elevation, intoxication or
enthusiasm, violence or ecstasy.
The Irish film Rose
Plays Julie (MC-83)
is a #MeToo era revenge thriller – moody, enigmatic, and smoothly-made – but
not something that gripped or held me.
Sicilia! (1999) is a quirky minimalist film, static and stiffly
declamatory, about a son of Sicily returning for a visit after many years away. I
wouldn’t have watched if I weren’t currently immersed in reading and viewing
about my ancestral homeland. Given that
particular interest, and the diversion of a stationary bike, I had the patience
to sit through its odd 66 minutes, but I wouldn’t advise anyone else to.
Mubi also revived the Taviani
brothers’ Padre Padrone (1977), about a Sardinian shepherd boy,
and in the midst of digging into my imaginary identity as an Italian peasant, I
took another look. However it may have
looked back then, I found it unwatchable today, its bare-bones neorealism laced
with bawdy humor.
I credit Mubi with offering
my first chance to see a Maltese film, Luzzu (MC-78), an absorbing update
on the traditional Sicilian fisherman of Visconti’s La Terra Trema, now
under threat from climate change, EU regulation, and globalized container
shipping. A young fisherman, with an
ailing infant and a leaky luzzu (painted wooden boat) inherited from his
father and grandfather before him, is tempted toward corruption by desperation. Maltese-American Alex Camilleri, a first-time
writer-director, beautifully renders the watery light of the Mediterranean , despite the scarred industrial landscape, in an
impressive neorealist film that debuted at Sundance.
So there are definitely good films on Mubi, but they tend toward
the esoteric, and not enough of them to warrant a continuing subscription, though
you may want to drop in and give it a try sometime. It’s either a feature or a bug that their
policy is to add and subtract a film each day, so at any given time they’ll
have a lot of films I’d highly recommend (such as, at the moment, Amour and
The Rider), though I didn’t have the urge to see them again during this
trial subscription.