Review #1,436: 'Loving Vincent' (2017)

There have been many attempts over the years to comprehend the genius of Dutch artist Vincent van Gogh, from 1956's Lust for Life, to 1990's ambitious Vincent & Theo. While some of these movies are unquestionably good - perhaps none more masterful than Maurice Pialat's Van Gogh - the man himself remains an enigma, so filmmakers have now been forced to take more experimental measures when attempting to understand the painter who, while now regarded as one of art's most influential figures, only managed to sell one painting out of a rumoured 900 during his lifetime. Much focus is placed on the infamous ear-slicing incident, and this is where we began in Loving Vincent, a joint Polish and UK film that employed 125 painters to painstakingly recreate van Gogh's style over footage shot with actors in front of a green screen.

A year after van Gogh's suicide, postmaster and close friend of the troubled artist Joseph Roulin (Chris O'Dowd) tasks his street-fighting son Armand (Douglas Booth) with delivering van Gogh's final letter to his brother Theo. With questions surrounding the suicide still up in the air, Joseph finds van Gogh's sudden demise as suspicious, especially since the painter was in high spirits in the days leading up to the tragedy. It's a feeling that will eventually be shared by Joseph as he embarks on his journey, meeting faces familiar to us from van Gogh's portraits, including the likes of art dealer Pere Tanguy (John Sessions), cafe owner Adeline Ravoux (Eleanor Tomlinson) and close friend Doctor Gachet (Jerome Flynn). As Joseph learns of van Gogh's day-to-day life and his rocky relationship with Gachet and his daughter Marguerite (Saoirse Ronan), this may not be a cut-and-dry suicide carried out by an ear-chopping madman as previously thought.

By turning the subject of van Gogh into a dime-store detective story, Loving Vincent frequently runs the risk of tipping over into TV movie territory. What ultimately prevents this from happening is the time, care and love etched into every frame by directors Dorota Kobiela and Hugh Welchman and the tireless artists, who took approximately 6 years to recreate the likes of Starry Night, At Eternity's Gate and Bank of the Oise at Auvers, and weave these scenes into a convincing narrative. There's also great work by the ensemble cast, each bringing to life the portraits they're based on without feeling staged, and each character offering a unique viewpoint of van Gogh himself, and how he was treated by those around him. It's a fresh take on van Gogh's life, mixing traditional narrative with flashbacks and interpretations in the hope of understanding this mysterious figure or seeing him from a different angle. The man himself is here also, played by Robert Gulaczyk, but his actions and behaviours still remain a mystery. While the true crime slant is somewhat pulpy, Loving Vincent is a treat for fans of van Gogh's work, and undeniably crafted with tenderness and a genuine love of its subject.


Directed by: Dorota Kobiela, Hugh Welchman
Starring: Douglas Booth, Jerome Flynn, Saoirse Ronan, Helen McCrory, Chris O'Dowd, John Sessions, Eleanor Tomlinson, Aidan Turner
Country: Poland/UK/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #845: 'Mother Joan of the Angels' (1961)

In what could be viewed as a sequel to Ken Russell's The Devils (1970), Jerzy Kawalerowicz's bleak but brilliant drama tells the infamous story of the so-called 'Loudon Possessions', in which a convent of nuns were said to have been possessed by a variety of demons, seducing men and indulging in sinful activities while the Church sent priests to exorcise them. It resulted in the death of French Catholic priest Urbain Grandier, who was burned at the stake after suggestions were made that he had succumbed to evil himself, forging a 'diabolical pact' that bound his soul to the Devil. It's an event that has caught the imagination of many artists, including the aforementioned Russell, as well as Aldous Huxley. but never has it been portrayed with such terrifying foreboding as in Mother Joan of the Angels.

Father Suryn (Mieczyslaw Voit) is sent to a Polish convent in the seventeenth century, where talk amongst the sparse townsfolk are of the wicked acts committed by the nuns of the convent that looms over the town like a ghost. At the head of this apparent possession is Mother Joan (Lucyna Winnicka), who tells Suryn of the fate of the previous priest, whose charred remains still lie at the burning post. Suryn is so horrified by what he sees as the purest of evils that he promises to rid Joan of her affliction, even if it is at the expense of his own soul, becoming a martyr in the fight against Satan's influence.

The picture is black and white and the cinematography is dark and empty, capturing the hopelessness of this small, insignificant and nameless town. It resembles the minimalistic work of Ingmar Bergman and Carl Theodor Dreyer, and shares many of the conflicted representations of religion that frequented the auteur's back catalogue. The film occasionally branches out into horror, with close-ups and shadows used to powerful effect as Satan's influence creeps into Suryn's soul, leading him to reach out in desperation to a rabbi in what is one of the film's most powerful scenes. It's also a twisted love story between Joan and Suryn, transcending mere desire into something deeper and unspoken. Complex and courageous, Kawalerowicz's film will most likely always be overshadowed by Russell's more provocative work, but this is one of the finest works to come out of 60's Poland.


Directed by: Jerzy Kawalerowicz
Starring: Mieczyslaw Voit, Lucyna Winnicka, Anna Ciepielewska
Country: Poland

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #151: 'Antichrist' (2009)

It's quite difficult to know what exactly to say about this film. Danish film maker Lars Von Trier has nearly always been the provocateur. From the penetration of The Idiots (1998), to the comments at this years Cannes Film Festival, where he claimed to essentially be a Nazi, Von Trier knows how to spark controversy, and generally gage reactions from both critics and audiences alike. This brings us to his 2009 offering, Antichrist, Starring Wilem Defoe and Charlotte Gainbourg. Never referred to by name within the narrative, they are only named in the credits as simply He and She.

In the opening prologue, He and She are interlocked in passionate copulation, unaware that their toddler, Nic, has woken and climbed out from his cot. Nic makes his way to the window where he falls to his death. From here-on, the film is broken into chapters of emotions: Chapter one is grief; Chapter two, pain; Chapter three, despair; and four, the three beggars (this refers to the previous chapters titles' incarnations as animals - a deer (grief), a fox (pain), and a crow (despair). He, a psychotherapist, takes on the task of counselling She after her breakdown, and brings her through the chapters emotional arc. They retreat to a cabin in the woods, that they refer to as Eden.

It is here that they begin to fall apart, She becomes more sexually aggressive, which culminates in some of the more controversial imagery (such as She cutting her clitoris off with scissors - and image that is shot in extreme close-up). A dying fox lifts it's head to a perplexed He, and states "chaos reigns". The breakdown of the relationship is countered by ideas and images of nature - both human and of the woodland outside the cabin. Decay and death in nature is represented with the three animals. In one scene She states that "nature is Satan's church". We are not really sure what is real, and what may be dreamed or imagined in this text. He and She (apart from Nic) are the only characters to occupy the narrative. In two scenes where others do inhabit the mise-en-scene, their faces are totally blurred out of the image.

Whilst much of the column space that was dedicated to the film in the media focused on the imagery (it was also given the oblique title of torture-porn), almost as much vehemence directed at Von Trier accused him of being a misogynist. I can see why this may have been the case. However, I believe that both characters had intrinsic hatred for each other.

At the end, we discover that the film is dedicated to Russian film maker/genius, Andrei Tarkovsky. I did not know this to begin with, and some of the more beautiful, idyllic cinematography did remind me of some of his work. The log cabin reminded me of the house and surroundings of the mother character in Tarkovsky's The Mirror (1975). Antichrist really does have some incredibly beautiful shots. The opening, whilst permeated with horror, is so visually stunning. There are these moments of slow-motion that conjure pure artistry. The film is no masterpiece, not by a long shot. It does stir the emotions though, and this is really down to the performances. Gainbourg certainly deserved the best actress award at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival: her portrait of grief and (possible) slid into insanity, is remarkable.


Directed by: Lars Von Trier
Starring: Willem Dafoe, Charlotte Gainsbourg
Country: Denmark/Germany/France/Sweden/Italy/Poland

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #122: 'A Short Film About Killing' (1988)

The film centres around the lives of three main characters. The first is Piotr (Krzysztof Globisz), a smart and confident young lawyer who is celebrating just passing his bar exam. Jacek (Miroslaw Baka), is a young misfit who spends his time gaining pleasure from causing other people's misfortune. And Waldemar (Jan Tesarz) is an overweight, cruel-looking taxi driver who drives around being generally unpleasant. In a seemingly random act, Jacek catches a ride in Wademar's taxi and then proceeds to murder him in cold blood for apparently no reason. After being arrested, Piotr is assigned to Jacek's defence and must face the possibility of seeing his client face the death penalty.

Expanded from Krzysztof Kieslowski's TV series Dekalog, it focuses on 'Thou Shalt Not Kill' of the Ten Commandments. In Dekalog, each episode focuses on one of the Commandments. It shows the ugliness of murder and death in general, and asks if any killing is necessary. The murder of Waldemar is messy, and Kieslowski isn't afraid to show it. It isn't like the murders you usually see in films, which are quick and final - here it is awkward, difficult, bloody and nasty. But the climax is equally as horrible to watch, and there lies the genius of this film.

There's no question as to where Kieslowski's opinions lie. This is a film against capital punishment. Piotr makes a stand against it in one of his first scenes, and must face it head-on with his first client. In a powerful scene, the arrested Jacek talks in his sell to Piotr about the tragedy of his childhood, and you find that you're asking yourself if this person truly deserves to die, even given his crimes.  The whole film is a very simple idea played out with such a ferocious complexity, with some beautifully grim cinematography that really adds to the almost apocalyptic atmosphere.


Directed by: Krzysztof Kieslowski
Starring: Miroslaw Baka, Krzysztof Globisz, Jan Tersarz
Country: Poland

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #35: 'The Third Part of the Night' (1971)

Remarkably, this was Polish director Andrzej Zulawski's debut feature. Coming from a family full of actors, directors, poets, writers, and general great thinkers, Zulawski strides into this film with confidence, focus and a craft that takes the majority of directors years to perfect. I was interested in this film after reading about the rather strange plotline, and having a keen interest in Polish cinema, notably the work of Roman Polanski and Andrzej Wajda. And I'm pleased I acted upon my curiosity, as the film is a hypnotic and nightmarish piece of cinema that encourages discussion, interpretation and repeat viewings, something that I find with only a few films, especially straight after the first viewing.

The film begins in a remote countryside house in Nazi-occupied Poland, where Michal (Leszek Teleszynski) stays with his wife and children, until the Nazis come along a murder everyone while Michal lies hidden in the woods. He journeys back to Lwow where he joins the resistance, almost instantly being tracked down and almost murdered. He manages to escape when the pursuers mistake an innocent bystander wearing similar clothes to be him and shoot him dead. Michal comforts the dead man's wife, while noticing that the mysterious woman bears an uncanny resemblance to his own dead wife. Being a typhus sufferer, Michal decides to put his misfortune to use and earns money becoming a lice feeder, strapping small boxes full of the bloodsuckers down his legs to let them feed, which are later used to develop a vaccine.

What stems from the relatively normal opening scene can only be described as a chaotic descent into instability, as the story moves along slowly and confusingly. The decision to use the same actress (Malgorzata Braunek) to play multiple roles is never clearly explained or made clear. The obvious and initial reason would apparently be the inability of Michal to let go of his wife's death, seeing her everywhere, but as the film goes on, you wonder about the mental stability of our hero, or even ponder if this (or indeed the whole film) is just a product of his typhoid-addled brain. Scenes randomly blend into the next, and you have no idea where the film is going or will end up. It is truly a mentally tiring experience, and all the better for it.

Zulawski seems to be fascinated with lice and the feeding process that the film depicts. He films in close detail, with some effectively loose-hand held work, how the lice are packed together in a tiny box, with a mesh screen in place to allow the creatures to feed through. Later, during the vaccination process, we are treated to a microscope POV of the lice being carefully placed on a petri dish one by one, only to be torn open by a pair of tweezers to extract their infected blood. Do the lice represent our protagonist, or the nature of the human race? Or perhaps it's a commentary on the war and the destruction of the Nazi party? No answers are clear with the film, and is best enjoyed as an interpretive piece of art cinema. I use the word 'enjoy' loosely, as when the climax approaches, it almost becomes a piece of psychological horror, one that genuinely disturbs in a way that only a true artist can achieve. It will not appeal to everybody, but no matter what your view or opinion, it will no doubt have a profound effect on the emotions and the brain, and will linger for a long time.


Directed by: Andrzej Zulawski
Starring: Leszek Teleszynski, Malgorzata Braunek, Jan Nowicki
Country: Poland

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie