The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover

It is hard when dealing with films of allegorical nature to refer to its plot, because the actual plot is simply not meant to be taken literally, rather it serves as a metaphor for something much more general and universal. However, for this to work the film needs to work on a literal level as well and Greenaway's film unquestionably accomplishes that. Albert Spica (Michael Gambon) is a gangster, owner of the restaurant where most of the film takes place and where he dines daily accompanied by his wife Georgina (Helen Mirren) and a bunch of yes-men (a young Tim Roth among them). Spica is as loud, vulgar and abominable as a character can get and he is seen continually tyrannizing everyone around him including the suffering wife, silent and mysterious. Despite the abhorrent behaviour of Spica and his men, the restaurant is not without clients, all looking like the quiet subdits of the omnipotent dictator. The restaurant's chef, Richard Borst (Richard Bohringer), an expert at his craft, seems oblivious to Spica's depravity as he dishes out his fine cuisine to the uncultured mouths of the gangsters, but he finds a worthy consumer in Georgina, who he says has exquisite taste and to whom he prepares especial dishes. It is deduced that all of this happens routinely, until one day a customer's and Georgina's eyes suddenly meet and they are both enthralled by each other. This man, Michael (Alan Howard), looks like the complete opposite of Albert: intellectual, cultured, a book-lover and it is soon after they see each other for the first time that they meet, silently (for not a word is spoken), in the bathroom. Thus begins their affair; their love-making sessions occur during Georgina's bathroom breaks (later at the kitchen, aided by the cook) as Albert becomes more and more suspicious of her wife's recurrent visits to the toilet.

The film is full of symbolism, not only in the allegorical content of the plot or the characters, but also in its visual presentation. The art direction is particularly important to enhance its metaphorical status, as each set has a dominant colour which clearly represents a particular state or mood. The restaurant, as in the actual place where people eat, is red, the colour of passion, power, rage, authority and intense emotions. The set decoration is sumptuous and almost claustrophobic. Here Spica’s power is obvious and his presence unquestionably dominates every frame. It can also be seen as a metaphor for Hell (Spica being the Devil, of course), but that will depend on the viewer and what he brings to the film with him. Greenaway’s symbolisms are vague in that they are general and universal, which makes the film more interesting to discuss with several people, because everyone interprets it differently. The kitchen is green, as in life (food, sex: the basic bodily functions, which is why the set decoration seems to be almost primitive). The bathroom is white, a colour of purity, innocence and cleanliness and the set decoration aptly magnifies these values and is almost futuristic looking. This is were the lovers have their first encounter and it’s the most neutral set in the film. Finally, the parking lot, of a disturbingly dark blue colour which can be associated with power, confidence and authority. Indeed, it is in the parking lot where the majority of the most brutal scenes take place and where Spica’s presence seems the most threatening. 

The editing and score give this film continuity between sets and scenes and Greenaway’s masterly direction is present in every aspect of this engrossing picture. All the actors portray their characters with the utmost conviction and authenticity: Gambon is extraordinary as Spica, his ever threatening presence dominates even the scenes he is not in and he is not afraid to imbue his character with the worst human traits possible making his character incredibly loathsome, absolutely terrifying and even pathetic, at times. Helen Mirren’s performance is sophisticated, restrained, subtle and wonderfully brave. Her line delivery is flawless: sharp and commanding in a quiet way; her last line (also the film’s last) is one of the most memorable lines in film history and it’s the ironic, bitter-sweet way in which Mirren delivers it which makes it so compelling.

What this film is really about is not something that can be said in a film review. Everyone can interpret the film to their liking, which is what Greenaway intended. Some say it is a critic of Margaret Thatcher's regime; others have a more religious-oriented understanding of the film and others simply choose to see it as a more universal allegorical tale; and they are all without a doubt valid interpretations of the film. But whatever meaning you find in Greenaway’s masterpiece, this is one of the most utterly complex, inherently demanding, disturbingly shocking, powerfully visceral and undoubtedly brilliant viewing experiences you will ever be likely to experience.

Personal rating: 9/10

Tropa de Elite (Elite Squad)

First of all, I should say that I don't think this film was intended for me. Rather, its target audience is what I like to call the "definite fanboy": young male with a strong liking for films like 'Fight Club', 'The Matrix' and well..., you get the idea. The set up of the plot is Captain Nascimento (Wagner Moura) wants to leave his position at the BOPE (a special military police in Rio) because of work-related stress but he first needs to find himself a replacement. The first half of the film focuses more on showing the situation with the favelas (slums), the corruption of the regular police and is basically trying to demonstrate how the system works. The second part, however, is more about the BOPE's boot camp and the training and searching for a decent candidate for Captain Nascimento's replacement.


The film is all seen through Captain Nascimento's eyes whose narration throughout the film is sometimes informative, sometimes overbearing and mostly just unnecessary. He is a bitter man, a thoroughly one-dimensional character, a "hero" Rambo style. The film presents him and the BOPE's "violence is the only way to combat violence" tactics as the only possible solution to the problem of the favelas. Others may argue that the film was just trying to portray a reality, the reality in Rio, but the truth of the matter is that that alleged "reality" was disgustingly imbued with the director's personal political stances, who exalts the BOPE's methods to the max. This is achieved by a series of camera angles, camera movements and different combinations of music all of which combine to give the film that sense of glorification. Perhaps this was not the director's intention, but if it wasn't, then he is a complete hack with no knowledge whatsoever of the filmmaking art. He could have escaped this obvious bias had he shown the other side of the spectrum, but the screenplay thoroughly lets him down.

Indeed, the screenplay is, without a doubt, the worst part of the film. The dialogues are mostly superficial and add next to nothing to the story, in fact, they only serve to enhance the one side of the one-dimensional characters. Not even the two leading characters get any background to their story. Captain Nascimento, as I mentioned before, is a bitter, extremely violent man, all probably as a result of work-related stress. He is married and has a child during the course of the film, and yet he's still always seen as an authoritative, aggressive person, even among his family. The other important character is the man who's to be his replacement. André Matias (André Ramiro) is without a doubt the character with most depth to him, but that's not saying much. He's the reflective, passive and intelligent man who is torn between being a lawyer and being a law-enforcement man. He does both things, until one, predictably prevails over the other. Moreover, there is no room for women in this film. There are a couple of extremely poor female characters, but the only one worth mentioning is a fellow law student, Matias's love interest and active member of an NGO aimed at aiding people in the favelas, played nicely by Fernanda Machado. She was a character with potential, but again..., the screenplay lets her down. The performances are what one would expect out of the terrible script: superficial, simply lacking in any kind of depth.

All these flaws aside, the film was not unwatchable for me. It is quite entertaining (for the wrong reasons, but who cares?) and its quick-paced editing make the two hours fly by. It is a complete hack job in every possible way, but it works as a pseudo-intellectual, extremely violent, action film which (if it hasn't already) will find its niche in the movie-watching public.

Personal rating: 4/10

Blindness trailer, at last!

Blindness (2008): based on a novel by Nobel prize winner José Saramago (a personal favourite of mine - if you haven't read it, you should as soon as possible!) and starring one of Hollywood's best actresses, Julianne Moore, the film revolves around a city which is suddenly sticken by a terrible disease. People start going blind for no apparent reason. However, the condition seems to be contagious and the government is forced to separate those who have already been affected by it from those who haven't... at least not yet. Indeed, the only person who doesn't go blind is Julianne Moore's character and like the trailer says: "The only thing more terrifying than blindness, is being the only one who can see".

Le Scaphandre et le Papillon (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly)

Jean-Do is the editor of Elle Magazine. He inexpectedly  suffers a stroke that paralyses his entire body, except for his left eye, which is the only way in which he can communicate. 

The first part of the film is all seen through Jean-Do's eyes. It's a technique that works wonders in itself, but it's even more effecitve together with Jean-Do's voice over. Both elements combined give us a pretty good idea of what the character is going through. The cinematography is undoubtedly one of the best of the year. The film is gorgeous from start to end. The shots of nature and basically all the scenes involving Jean-Do's past life are very easy to admire, but equally impressive are the scenes in the hospital (particularly when everything is seen through the character's point of view) as the camera and lighting are what make them so powerfuly effective.

This film can be quite sad, and by 'sad', I mean emotionally devastating. But, it's not depressive in tone. In fact, it's a celebration of life. I'm not only referring to the flashbacks of Jean-Do's past life, which are gorgeously vivid, but also to his actual present in the film. He's almost completely paralysed and yet he is more alive than many people with perfect health. This is not to say he immediately accepts his condition, this is an extremely humane character with flaws and strengths and the film doesn't hesitate to show both sides. But things like his sense of humour (his voice-overs are often quite funny and he shows that he's able to laugh at himself in more than one occasion), his active and colourful imagination (it plays a very important role in the film as Jean-Do is often seen fantasising and it's really what makes him feel alive), his heartbreaking regrets of his past life (he can't even atone for his faults) and his admirable determination to write a book describing his life are what make this character so vividly real and sympathetic.

The acting is all around spectacular. Amalric gives a very convincing performance as Jean-Do, nailing both his persona before the stroke (confident and somewhat cocky) and after he's completely paralysed, managing to express different kinds of emotions only using his eyes. The women are also fabulous: Emmanuelle Seigner's performance as the mother of his children was very carefully crafted and is full of nuance. There's a particular scene in which she has to "mediate" between Jean-Do and his lover/girlfriend over the phone that's especially heartwrenching. Marie-Josée Croze (Henriette) and Anne Consigny (Claude), the two women who helped develop the system Jean-Do uses to communicate and patiently wrote every word he dictated, respectively, imbued their characters with an honest kindness and warmth that's especially touching. Last, but not least, Max von Sydow as Jean-Do's father gives the best performance out of the cast. His scenes are very brief but the range of emotions he manages to display in them is mind-blowing. Before his son's stroke (as seen through the flashbacks) he's seen as physically weak, sure, but looking strong and content with his life and his son. Later on, during the conversation he and his son have over the phone (Jean-Do's blinks interpreted by Claude) he shows devastating vulnerability and painfully expresses sadness through every inch of his feeble body. This is the most emotional scene of the film and I dare anyone to see it and not (at least) tear up!

The title might appear to be quite odd, but it fits the film's themes well. The diving bell is a metaphor for his condition, a suffocating prison for his body; while the butterfly refers to his mind, and more specifically, to his imagination. On the whole, this is a very empowering and uplifting film with a great ensemble and breathtaking visuals. Highly recommended!

Personal rating: 9/10

Introducing Scarlett DuBois

Hey everyone! So, this Blog will be mostly about cinema ([mini]-reviews of my recent watches), different kinds of favourite lists, yearly lineups and whatnot. It's not restricted to only that, though, and I might want to embark on other topics: music, being the most notable example. I'm not a very good writer, but I'm trying my best to improve: "practice makes perfect", after all.

Hopefully, someone will find my posts interesting enough to read and, needless to say,  you are all more than welcome to leave a comment/question, to which I'll reply as soon as I am able. 

Anyway, enough of all of this. I guess I haven't really introduced myself, but yeah, whatever.