You, the Living (Swedish: Du levande) is a 2007 Swedish black comedy film written and directed by Roy Andersson. This is an absurdist take on the everyday foibles of human nature. Andersson couples his iconic visual style (stationary shots, a monochromatic palette of grays and greens) with a meticulous eye for composition (compared by some critics to the work of German painters Otto Dix and Max Beckmann) to yield a brilliant succession of dreamlike tableaux: a bride and her electric guitar-playing groom sail along in a house moving like a train; a distraught man complains of his financial woes while his wife tries to make love to him; a drunken woman shouts “No one understands me” to a bar full of silent patrons; a man waiting in line to buy a train ticket changes queues repeatedly, to no advantage. Running the gamut from quotidian struggles to big philosophical questions of love, sympathy and purpose in an uncaring world, Andersson brings a blast of distinctive Nordic humor to our universal woes.
Directed by: Roy Andersson Cast: Elisabet Helander, Jessika Lundberg, Bjorn Englund
In the last five years 62,000 Russian children have been abducted, taken out of the country and sold.THIS HARD-HITTING DRAMA is the remarkable story of one of these children."The lucky ones are adopt...( read more read more... )ed by rich families in the West. Others are sold into a life of prostitution, drugs or crime. But many are murdered so their organs can be sold on the black market, often with the collusion of the Russian police.
PRODUCER Konstantin Serebryakov
DIRECTOR Cecile Henry
WRITER Andrey Sherbinin, Cecile Henry
DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY Alexander Gusev
COMPOSER Vadim Sher
PRODUCTION DESIGNER Serguei Filenko
SOUND Yakov Geronimus
PRODUCTION COMPANY Project WE, Krasnaya Strela, SD Cinema Park CAST: Yarik - Maxim Kolesnikov Boris - Anatoly Bely Major - Dmitry Persin Buyer - Mikhail Gorevoi Gurgen - Armen Djigarkhanya Samokhin - Sergey Badichkin Boris's Wife - Inessa Moskvicheva Boris's Daughter - Polina Arsentieva Mother - Elena Ksenofontova Master - Sergey Vexler
In Dancer in The Dark, Lars von Trier told the story of a girl who could create such a vivid interior life that it could soar over any misfortune, even death. In Breath, Director Ki-duk Kim tells the story of a girl who tries to transfer a similarly strong vision to a condemned man on death row.
What do you do to raise your spirits? Listen to a song? Walk through the countryside? Go on holiday somewhere nice? Take any of these things, and they are heightened if love and desire are added.
When I was seventeen, I used to walk five miles every night. Just to hold my sweetheart's hand and kiss her goodnight. Even in winter, I felt as if I were walking on air. Sounds kinda stupid, looking back. Especially as it didn't last. But those miles disappeared in seconds.
Breath opens unremarkably. Jang Jin is on death row and attempts suicide by sharpening a toothbrush and stabbing himself with it. (He's played by Chen Chang, the sexy outlaw suitor to Zhang Ziyi in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.) The incident makes the evening TV news.
Yeon's husband is having an affair. He tells her to get out and meet people instead of staying at home making sculptures. On an impulse, she goes to visit Jang Jin. On a subsequent visit, she decorates the visiting room with blown-up pictures of spring, fills the area with artificial flowers, and sings to him. She wears a summer dress even though it is mid-winter. Yeon's poetry of life has a profound effect on Jang Jin. They fall passionately in love. But trouble brews from Jang Jin's jealous cellmates and Yeon's violent husband.
When Breath started, I admit I found it less than engaging. But suddenly these scenes that Yeon constructs for Jang Jin explode with a powerful emotional force. Have you ever been on one of those simulator machines where you step in and it starts moving about, replicating sensations that match the screen in front of you? It's that sudden. One second you are watching an ordinary prison drama, interspersed with inconsequential domestic stuff. Then Wham! You are suddenly catapulted, knocked sideways, jolted out of your seat. And that, of course, is a pale reflection of the effect we realise it must be having on Jang Jin. We start living for these intense (yet emotionally draining) moments in the film, just as Jang Jin does.
Throughout precisely architectured cinematography, Ki-duk Kim weaves a poetry of life and death. "We are already crazy inmates on death row. Until we can breathe no more." Contrasts between the two protagonists' lives outside the meeting room and what goes on inside are mirrored in verbal contrasts where one person will speak and the other stays mute. Breathing in and breathing out. Locked in a passionate kiss. Or holding one's breath underwater.
Breath also has a bitter edge. Is she preparing him for the moment when he takes his last breath? (South Korea is one of the very few fully developed democracies where the death penalty is still allowed.) Don't expect any nice redemptive ending. Like Dancer in The Dark, Breath mostly gets darker. "Even though I call with sorrow, Only the white snow falls." It may also be too laboured – even artificial – for some audiences.
Breath is an icy, chilling love story. It looks at a bond that goes beyond the simplicities of life and death. And it's as finely chiselled as a piece of sculpture. Some scenes contain a rare combination of animal intensity and poetic tenderness. The whole unfolds as a dazzling testament to the artistry of Ki-duk Kim.
Significant Names: Chen Chang, Jung-woo Ha, Ki-duk Kim, Ji-a Park, Director: Ki-duk Kim Studio: Video Express Year: 2007
Directed by Takashi Yamazaki[1] Produced by Chikahiro Ando Keiichiro Moriya Nozomu Takahashi Written by Ryôhei Saigan (manga) Takashi Yamazaki (screenplay) Starring Maki Horikita Hidetaka Yoshioka Shinichi Tsutsumi Koyuki Hiroko Yakushimaru Kazuki Koshimizu Kenta Suga Music by Naoki Sato Cinematography Kozo Shibazaki Editing by Ryuji Miyajima Distributed by Toho Release date(s) November 5, 2005 Running time 133 min. Country Japan Language Japanese Followed by Always Zoku Sanchōme no Yūhi
The plot takes place in a small community in post-war Tokyo, and follows the interweaving story threads of a number of the community's residents over the course of a single year as Tokyo Tower is being built.
Norifumi Suzuki, consistently called "Suzuki Auto" by several of the other characters, runs a small auto repair shop, where he lives with his wife, Tomoe, and son, Ippei. Mutsuko Hoshino, a young girl from Aomori prefecture, comes to live with them and work as Suzuki's apprentice, having applied for the position as a one-year work opportunity. Though Mutsuko is initially shocked and upset at finding Suzuki Auto to be nothing like her expectations - a small auto repair shop where she's expected to do manual labor rather than a large company where she would be doing white-collar clerical work - she soon comes to enjoy her new life. Consistently called "Roku" (an alternate reading of the character for "Mutsu") by the Suzukis, she quickly becomes like a family member to them. Later in the film, she is given train tickets back to Aomori for the new year as a Christmas present, but she does not want to go back believing that no one in Aomori wants her to return. However, Tomoe reveals to her the letters she has been receiving from Mutsuko's mother and have kept secretly in accordance with the mother's wishes. Touched, Mutsuko chooses to return home to Aomori excited to be seeing her family again. She happily waves to the Suzukis, whom she thanks for a great year while leaving.
Ryūnosuke Chagawa is a dried-up novelist who lives across the street from the Suzukis and runs a small toy and candy shop out of his house. He writes a series of serial novels called "Shōnen Bōken-dan" (or "The Young Boys Adventure Club"). Though proud of his profession, he seems to be rather down on his luck (or talent) whenever he submits his works to be published or writing contests. Meanwhile, Hiromi Ishizaki, Chagawa's love interest, newly opens a bar nearby and is unpleasantly surprised one day when a man brings a young boy named Junnosuke to her shop. He tells her that his mother abandoned him and since Hiromi and the mother were friends—though Hiromi protests that they were hardly that close—Hiromi should take care of the boy. Hiromi reluctantly takes Junnosuke in for the time being, but is determined to find him another place to stay at. Later that same evening, Chagawa, comes to the bar to drown in his sorrows and Hiromi decides to give Junnosuke to him. Unable to resist Hiromi's charm and persuasion, Chagawa ends up taking charge of Junnosuke. In return for his allowing Junnosuke to stay with him, Hiromi would come by and visit them.
At first, Chagawa is very cold to Junnosuke since he does not really know how to be a proper parent to the boy, but he begins to warm up to him when he discovers that Junnosuke is actually a big fan of his work Shōnen Bōken-dan and the boy is equally awestruck and delighted that the author to his favorite series is right before his eyes. Over the course of the film, both become quite close and Junnosuke begins writing and even ends up having one of his own stories published in the Shōnen Bōken-dan serial.
The relationship between Hiromi and Chagawa also develops over the course of the film, as Hiromi suggests that she could move in and help raise Junnosuke. He eventually proposes to her on Christmas Eve, albeit with an empty box as he cannot yet afford a ring. Touched, she accepts his proposal, but then disappears the following day, seemingly gone from the neighborhood, and thus from Chagawa's life, forever. Her shop is put up for rent and it is revealed that she's "sold" herself off due to the inability to pay off a huge debt.
Somewhere along the way, Junnosuke gets a hold of his mother's whereabouts and tells Ippei about it. Both boys set off to find her, but their attempt ends in failure. Despite this, a wealthy businessman appears one day and claims to be Junnosuke's father. He tells Chagawa that he plans on adopting Junnosuke into his family and reclaim him as the heir to his business empire. Chagawa sends the boy off, thinking that Junnosuke would be much better off with his real father in a wealthy home than with him. After all, Chagawa is quite poor, and does not consider himself a good parent; he feels particularly lost in this matter without Hiromi. Junnosuke escapes, however, and returns to Chagawa, insisting, despite the writer's violent protests, that he would much rather stay with him.
The film is also filled with light-hearted moments which evoke a sense of romanticized nostalgia for 1950s Tokyo, a sub-genre or aesthetic which is quite popular in recent years in Japanese media. Though the Suzuki auto shop is quite small, the family earns enough money to obtain a modern electric refrigerator, and a black-and-white television, which is first switched on in front of the entire community, which has gathered in and around the house. Despite the serious and dark elements of the plot lines, and the overall difficulties of the characters' lives, episodes such as these give a feeling of the nostalgic idea of life in an easier time, a post-war Japanese "good old days".