When does a film really end?
A masterfully minimalistic meta-film exploring mortality and the interplay of director and viewer.
Badii is the pure protagonist: completely opaque with no backstory and just the single motivation. We become him and he becomes us, applying our own morals and values in his struggle to find a stranger to be the ultimate accomplice: someone to bury his body after he takes his own life.
But Kiarostami manages to incarnate himself into this world as…
An unromanticised humanistic depiction of the duty and honour of the French resistance. It’s heartbreak lies in the moral enigmas the characters create for themselves. Taking place in 1943, despite having no clue if their actions will have any effect on the war, the characters still put the cause above all else in their lives. Death is a mere consequence for them, never dwelled upon and never mourned.
The mastery here lies in the uniquely solemn and tangible atmosphere present…
Kusturica’s five and a half hour double-length mini-series is even better than his Palme d’Or winning masterpiece Underground.
One of the funniest films there is, tragedy is constantly weaved into every moment, leading to the incredible epilogue. The logic behind Marko’s actions is clearer, the pathos for Blacky is stronger and Natalija is reframed as more of a chancer.
No matter the incredible layering of concepts and themes in a way we may never see again, a single interview line from Kusturica boils it all down perfectly: “It’s about sex and it’s about arms: the two basic activities in my country”.
