CHESS OF THE WIND - MIFF 2021

 

Anyone who has followed this blog over the past decade should know that I have a deep love for Iranian cinema. I am not sure what it is about that country, but it is very rare that I dislike any film that has been made there, and because of that, any time MIFF announces a film from Iran, I immediately attempt to book a ticket to it. Back when I first started attending MIFF in the mid-90's, they used to have a regular sidebar section dedicated to Iranian cinema, where I got to see the early works of Jafar Panahi, Asghar Farhadi, Mohammad Rasoulof, as well as films from Mohsen Makhmalbaf and Abbas Kiarostami, which all helped sculpture my passion. I will never forget my initial screening of “The White Balloon”, the directorial debut of Jafar Panahi, and how it opened my eyes wide to a new type of cinema miles away from the blockbusters of Hollywood. This year at MIFF, they once again had a sidebar dedicated to “New Iranian” cinema, which I booked as many sessions as I could. They also were screening of a brand new restoration of “Chess of the Wind (aka The Chess Game of the Wind)”, a 1976 film, that had previously been screened once at a Tehran film festival, and which was then subsequently and immediately banned after the Islamic Revolution of Iran in 1979. Unseen since then, it was feared that “Chess of the Wind” was lost to history. As much as I am a fan of Iranian cinema, I have seen very little from before the revolution of '79, so while I still immediately booked a ticket, I was a little unsure what I was getting myself in for, and from the still provided in the MIFF guide, I must admit it looked a little dull, and thus my excitement for “Chess of the Wind” wasn't very high.

When a Persian heiress dies suddenly, her enormous wealth falls to paraplegic daughter. Feeling entitled to that wealth, her abusive step father does not hide the fact that he wants her dead or gone, so that money will fall to him. Meanwhile his adopted sons also sit back in the shadows plotting themselves a way to get at the inheritance, with one of the boys intent on marrying the ailing cripple to do so. With the walls closing in on her, and her health continually deteriorating, the poor woman feels isolated and fears for her life. With only her devoted maid by her side, she knows her time is short, unless she herself makes the first move against the greedy men she shares a house with.

Before I begin this review in earnest, I must relay the amazing story on how this restoration came to be. As I mentioned above, the film was feared lost. However back in around 2013, the director's daughter, Gita Aslani Shahrestani, who is based in Paris, was writing a paper on auteur cinema for her PhD and started to look for a copy so to include “Chess of the Wind” in that paper. Hunting through international film archives, her search was fruitless, so she contacted her brother in Tehran, hoping he could find something there. He too was unsuccessful, and it seemed that the film was indeed gone forever. However in 2014, while visiting an antique store, the brother noticed some cans of film reels. Enquiring what was on the film inside, the owner of the store had no idea and said they were being sold as a novelty item. When he opened the cans, amazingly he found the original camera negatives to his father's lost film. He then smuggled the film out of Iran to safety, fearing it would be further lost to censors, where it could be restored once again to its former glory. And here we are today.

And thank god that “Chess of the Wind” was finally found because it truly is a lost masterpiece of Iranian cinema. I was not at all ready for what I was about to witness, when I finally set down to watch the film (which sadly, due to COVID-19, had to be changed to a virtual online MIFF screening). It is so different from the films that I am used to watching from Iran, both in content and formal style. In most reviews I have seen for the film, it is often compared to the cinema of Italian director Luchino Visconti. Initially I did not see the comparison, as I felt the film owed a debt more to Henri-Georges Clouzot than anyone else. However after more consideration, I agree that the Visconti comparison is apt, at least in terms of pacing and visual style. Director Mohammad Reza Aslani is exact in the most minute details of his film, particularly when it comes to the ritual of things. You cannot help but be impressed in the way he presents the preparation of a meal, the preparation of an evening prayer session, the lighting of the candles on a chandelier, or the exact details of loading a pistol. While this representation of details means the pacing is slow, it is never boring, as it instead heightens the tension of each moment that is prepared or puts an importance on an certain object. Aslani's attention to detail also extends to both the costume and sets of his film, not to mention the pace and tone of his film. It is almost hard to believe that this is Aslani's directorial debut with the assured confidence he shows in every frame of this film. He always feels in total control of both the story, and style of his film.

The film starts in a slow and unassuming fashion as the basic plot is laid out. It opens with a quote from the Quran about the dangers of greed and how pitting oneself against others for the main intent of increased wealth, will only end in tragedy. The plot builds very slowly early on, with the style of the film matching that pace. The camera is relatively still, and there is no music at all. The characters are introduced and their motives in the plot are exposed. For all intents and purposes it appears we are watching a chamber piece about the dangers of greed. However, at the thirty five minute mark, the film totally changes and what was once a moody drama, suddenly explodes into a full on suspense film that Alfred Hitchcock would be proud of. The once still camera now starts gliding in long smooth shots, as atmospheric music announces the new life or death tensions of the plot. A huge smile came across my face when I suddenly realised that I was watching a film with B-movie plot mechanics, but presented in a prestige film style. Like I said before, this was unlike any Iranian film I had seen before, but I loved every second. What started as a slow but impressive drama, quickly changed gears and became a thriller filled with madness, manipulation, murder, suspense with a little eroticism thrown in for good measure too. In between all of this, we are also witness to repeated scenes of the servants of the house doing the washing in the outside fountain, as the maids gossip about their bosses and talk about how poorly they are treated. These scenes are always shot in the exact way with the camera starting wide in a long shot and then very slowly zooming in on the maids while they work.

As you may have guessed by now, the cinematography in “Chess of the Wind”, by Houshang Baharlou, is absolutely sensational, in both terms of lighting and camerawork. The film is shot with a very warm colour pallet which brings across the look that the house is lit only by candlelight. The framing of shots, especially early on when the camera is still, makes each image look like a painting. However where I fell in love was with the long and incredibly difficult camera moves during the film's finale. The finale twenty minutes of “Chess of the Wind” are astounding, and include two mind boggling shots. Both involve the multilevel staircase of the house, with the first one following our crippled heroine as she attempts to descend the stairs, with the camera following her every step until she makes it to the basement. My mouth was agape at this camera move, as it was as good as anything I had seen in a Brian de Palma film.

Since I brought up the staircase in, I want to briefly talk about it some more, as it is probably the most import part of the set in this film. Firstly from a design standpoint, it is something to behold, as it works in a horse-shoe fashion with stairs on either side, and at the top of each staircase is a large, lengthy mirror, that gives the illusion that the house is bigger than it is and goes on forever. Our wheelchair bound main character lives on the upper levels of the house, which adds to the suspense later on when she essentially finds herself trapped on that level because of her chair. Also we notice that most of the scheming or important conversations or confrontings happen on this staircase, often near the bottom, and I have no doubt this is symbolic with director Aslani showing visually how these men are trying to climb the social ladder through money. As everybody knows, staircases are also wonderful to photograph and build suspense around and Aslani gets the most out of his set here.

I have mentioned a number of times that “Chess of the Wind” is unlike any Iranian film I had seen previous, and this is particularly true when it comes to content. The fact that the film is anchored by two very strong women, and openly criticises a male-run society and with it explores themes on women's rights, it was certainly not of the norm. The biggest shock in the film (for me at least) though was the very obvious lesbian love scene between the woman and her maid (who is incidentally played by Shohreh Aghdashloo in her screen debut). While chaste compared to anything we see in today's movies in the West, there is no doubt what is happening on screen, and its inclusion probably was the main reason that saw the film ended up being banned.

Overall, my mind was blown by “Chess of the Wind”; it truly is a lost masterpiece of Iranian cinema. The assuredness in Mohammad Reza Aslani's direction is something to behold especially when you consider it was his feature film debut. I cannot say enough about how amazing this film is; it is worth all the superlatives you can think of. I also think it would make a great film for those interested in trying out Iranian cinema that as yet have not, as at the end of the day (at least on a surface level), the film is an exquisitely put together suspense film filled with murder and madness. I loved “Chess of the Wind” so much, and once again an Iranian film was my favourite film at MIFF. I am hugely disappointed that I did not get to see this on the big screen like originally planned, but if you ever get the chance to, do not hesitate at all. I promise that you will not be disappointed.

4.5 Stars.

 

ANNETTE

 

Opening this year's Cannes Film Festival was none other than Leos Carax's latest, “Annette”, an unusual musical that was predictably hit with middling reviews. Being a fan of Carax and his movies, the critical reaction to the film didn't worry me, as it seems to be par for the course for both Carax or any film that is a little different from the norm. That said, I did have some hesitancy about whether or not I was going to like “Annette”, but I could not put my finger exactly on why. There was never any doubt that I was going to see the film, but perhaps its extended running time and the fact that this was a long-in-gestation project for the obscure director that had many false starts, I'm not sure, but it made me nervous. Still I was immediately excited when the film was announced as one of the MIFF “headliners”, and then just as immediately crushed when I realised that I wouldn't be able to attend that screening. However, with Amazon Prime's release of the film soon approaching, I wasn't as gutted as I normally would be, as I knew I would have the opportunity to see “Annette” very soon.

“Annette” is the story of a romantic couple, both of them artists, who fall deeply in love and soon marry. At the top of their respective industries, Henry is a stand-up comedian while Ann is a sublime star of the opera. From the outside it appears that the couple are on top of the world and have everything. And that turns out to be true. More happiness enters the couple's life when Ann falls pregnant and gives birth to their daughter, Annette. As anyone who has had a child knows, this soon puts a strain on the relationship as our couple must overcome their own tiredness and a work schedule that doesn't leave much time for anything else, let alone each other. One night however it is discovered that Annette possesses an incredible, if unique gift, that will change all their lives forever.

As I mentioned above, I was initially worried about how I was going to receive this film, but as soon as the opening number, “So May We Start”, begun I knew that I was going to absolutely love “Annette”. This amazing moment sees director Leos Carax along with his daughter, the Sparks, and the cast and crew of “Annette”, including Adam Driver and Marion Cotillard front and centre, strutting down a street belting out this number, before Driver and Cotillard get into costume for their opening scenes of the movie true. It is such a sensational and bold opening to a movie, that I instantly fell in love with it. And I stayed that way until the film finished some two hours and twenty minutes later. At one stage I was a little embarrassed when I realised I was sitting there watching the film with the biggest, goofiest smile on my face; I just adored “Annette”. It is such an odd and original, one-of-a-kind type film, and because of this, I admit that it will not be for everyone. Those that are on the positive side of “Annette” are going to love it, and likewise, for those that are not, they are likely to hate it! Make no mistake, “Annette” is going to be divisive, but it is definitely worth seeing, because it is never boring; this thing crackles with energy.

Initially “Annette” was not planned as a movie, but as either a stage play or an album by the Sparks. Written by Sparks members, Ron and Russell Mael, they only started thinking of it in terms of a film after a meeting with director Leos Carax who had used a Sparks song in his previous film, “Holy Motors”. Years passed and before Marion Cotillard stepped into the role of Ann, it was offered and accepted by Rhianna, then Rooney Mara, and then Michelle Williams who all left for a variety of reasons. When Adam Driver was then cast as Henry McHenry, the production then had to wait for the actor who was tied up with his commitment to “Star Wars”. However, it was definitely worth the wait. What I do find interesting though is personally I felt that Driver and Cotillard lacked chemistry when together, but in scenes by themselves, they were sensational. I have stated many times that I think Marion Cotillard is a luminous presence onscreen and you cannot take your eyes off of her. This remains true here, and the way that she has been lit and shot by Carax and cinematographer Caroline Champetier, reminds of the way women where shot in old Hollywood. She is stunning, and she also has an incredible ability to make you feel deeply for whatever character she is portraying. Driver, an actor I am fond of, has the more difficult role of the two with his character having a much larger arc, going through many changes throughout. This is a man who starts at the top, and slowly self destructs but then finds a way back to the top through his daughter's amazing gift. You can feel the weight of life in Driver's performance, but there is also an arrogance to this man, an ego that defines him, where he believes that he should be at the centre of everything, and if he is not, he considers this a failure. In regards to their musical abilities, well I have mentioned before that I know very little about music, but to my ear I did not think that Driver or Cotillard were any sort of musical prodigy, but it doesn't matter because their rough, unpolished voices just work for this film and story. Obviously, Cotillard's has to be stronger from a story perspective because she plays the star of the opera, but the lack of perfection in both of their voices works here and was something apparently Carax was passionate about (and one of the few things the Sparks disagreed with him on). I need to mention one other actor who shows up late in the film, Simon Helberg, who plays a character known only as “The Accompanist” and is just outstanding. He is part of a key highlight of “Annette” when he graduates from accompanist to conductor and tells us, the audience, of his love and past affair with Ann (before she met Henry), all the while excusing himself mid-story to conduct the orchestra in front of him, while Carax's camera continually swoons around him.

So what about Annette herself? Whenever I talk about this movie to people the word I constantly use is “bold” but the boldest decision in “Annette” that Carax makes is to have Annette, herself, played by a puppet, and yet it makes sense from a narrative point of view too. As the movie goes along, Annette's parents treat her more like a puppet as they use her in ways that best help themselves, rather than seeing her as her own little self. There is no doubt that they love the girl, but they become something like showbiz parents. I do not want to go into too many details about Annette, both the character and movie plot, because one of the things I loved most about “Annette” was that I was constantly surprised by where it went and at times was a lot darker than I was expecting from a story about love (although, being a fan of Carax, you have to wonder why I was surprised as he has always told stories about love that are full of pain). Anyway, back to the puppet. I will admit that it is here that some audiences will check out of the film, and my first reaction was one of shock when I saw the “girl”. But it is so well done, as we see Annette grow and interact with both Driver and Cotillard in a way that seems very natural. It also makes sense that this role couldn't be played by a human being when it comes to her “talent”.

As of yet, I haven't focused on Leos Carax's contribution to “Annette” too much, and while this story may not have originated from the man, the film itself is a Carax film through and through. There is no doubt about who the author of this film is. The way he shoots things, the energy the film has, the eccentricities, his continued obsession with the colour green, the darkness and pain he associates with love (but you can tell that he feels it is all worthwhile); it all screams Leos Carax. As most would know, he is a director that doesn't make films very often, so when a new one arrives, it is something to get excited about, especially since his cinematic voice is a true original; no one makes films like he does. He isn't afraid to go outside the norm, to be different, and that is why so many of us that love cinema, champion his films. “Annette” is his first film in nine years since “Holy Motors” came out in 2012, and it is also his first film that has been shot in English too, and frankly I think it is his best film yet. It is certainly my favourite of his. Sure, it is true that Carax is prone to excess here, but my god, is that excess glorious!

“Annette” is a musical, and as we know music is not my strong point, so it will be no surprise when I tell you I had no knowledge of the Sparks before this film, but I was very impressed by what was delivered by them here (and will now search out Edgar Wright's recent documentary on the band). The songs themselves, in terms of lyrics, are hilarious as they often describe banal, every day things in life, set to music but I loved it. Watching Henry McHenry being combative with his hostile audience in song is just brilliant, as is Henry and Ann's love song where they describe how in love they are, but cannot explain why they are in love. Again, the opening number is also genius. Yes, this is a musical, with the majority of the dialogue being sung, but this is not your traditional musical. It is very odd and out there, both musically, lyrically and yep, even tonally. This isn't your mother's musical, but I cannot stress enough just how amazing “Annette” is.

Overall, in case you couldn't tell yet, I found “Annette” to be a stunning film experience. I must admit though I am a little bummed that I did not first see this on a big cinema screen, because it just screams for it (it is also the only Leos Carax film where my initial viewing hasn't been on a cinema screen). Hopefully I have been very vague in regards to the plot of the film as one of my favourite aspects of watching “Annette” was going in cold and being surprised by where it went. I will say though I appreciated that it wasn't just a musical of fluff and laughs and that it highlighted just how tough life can initially be when a child enters your life for the first time, and how mentally taxing it can become when the careers of our loved ones go in opposite directions to one another. This will be a divisive film, but there is no doubt that I loved every second of “Annette”, and that Leos Carax was a deserved winner for Best Director at this year's Cannes Film Festival. Let's hope we do not have to wait another decade for his next film.

4.5 Stars.

 

WIFE OF A SPY - MIFF 2021

 

The latest film from Japanese director Kiyoshi Kurosawa is the television movie “Wife of a Spy”, a period spy drama, which is a first for this talented filmmaker. Shot digitally in 8k and prepared in two versions, a television version running at 60 frames per second and a theatrical version (for international film festivals) running at the normal 24 fps, the film was highly anticipated by fans of Kurosawa.

The MIFF guide describes the film like so: “In 1940, with the (world) war on Japan's doorstep, wealthy silk merchant Yusaku heads to (Japanese occupied) Manchuria on a business trip, leaving his wife, amateur movie star Satoko, behind in Kobe. (However after witnessing unthinkable human atrocities performed in the name of war), he returns a changed man, in possession of a horrific secret and a film to prove it. But when military police inform Satoko that her husband also brought (back) with him a woman, now dead, she must decide where her loyalties lie.”

My recent viewing of this film at MIFF was actually the second time that I had seen “Wife of a Spy”, as I had originally viewed the television presentation earlier in the year. This version, presented at sixty frames per second, caused me serious problems with the look of the film, as it had that sickly, digital and very smooth motioned look to it that is often associated with soap operas. I absolutely hate this look, as it gives any film using it an automatic look of cheapness to it. Soon after, I read that a “theatrical” version had also been prepared for film festivals running at the normal 24 frames per second, and after watching identical trailers for the film, with the exception of frame rate, I knew I wanted to re-evaluate this film after watching this theatrical version. When the film was announced at MIFF this year, I immediately booked my session, eager to finally see it on the big screen. As we know now however, thanks to COVID-19, this screening never ended up taking place, however “Wife of a Spy” did end up as part of MIFF's online selection. The thrill of seeing it again was to see it on the big screen, so I was initially not going to bother with the online screening. Late in the festival I decided to give it a chance just in case it was the 24 frame per second version, which turned out to be the case and thankfully my experience of the film was a more positive one.

That being said, I would still have to concede that this is not one of Kurosawa's strongest efforts. The biggest thing that surprised me most about “Wife of a Spy” was how anti-Japanese it was. Actually, the better way to describe it is that it held a critical eye on the genocide committed by Japan during the war. The main goal of our protagonist is to provide information to the U.S in an attempt to force them into the war and defeat Japan. This shocked me quite a bit, as Japan is often reticent in bringing up both the war in general, their defeat, and the atrocities they committed during the war, and now here it is, front and centre in a film made by a big internationally acclaimed director. Do not get me wrong, I think that it is great that the film didn't “white-wash” this part of their history, and actually tackled it head on, but it was a surprise. When Satoko questions her husband and states that this action will make him a traitor to his country, Yusaku replies “my allegiance isn't to any one country, but rather to a universal justice, and that he will not tolerate injustice of any kind” (I'm paraphrasing here). Satoko then counters this argument by saying herself that “your kind of justice, will end up killing a lot more innocent Japanese”. From just this brief dialogue exchange, you can see where a lot of the tension and suspense will come from, with Satoko having to choose either her country or her husband.

My biggest issue with “Wife of a Spy” is that it should be a lot more suspenseful, and exciting than it actually ends up being. Personally I think that the first half of the film is the stronger of the two, and just when the film needs to lift off and fly, Kurosawa is unable to make it do so. The second half falls relatively flat, as I never truly felt any increased danger for our couple, even though it is a life or death situation for them both. There is an extra element to the story in that the police chief investigating Yusaku and Satoko, is actually one of their old friends, Yasuharu, who clearly has a crush on the young woman. He is often found attempting to protect Satoko from the dangers of Yusaku's actions, whilst at the same time trying to get information from her to bring his old friend down. Whether or not, he wants to do so in an attempt to steal the woman away from Yusaku, it's never explicitly said, but you certainly feel that this love triangle adds to Yasuharu's determination to prove Yusaku is a spy. However, the longer his investigations go along, the more aggressive his techniques to finding information become, as he starts to deal in torture, thus becoming unrecognisable as the friend he once was.

My favourite moment in the film comes right in the middle when Satoko goes to the police for the second time. It is a brilliant scene that deals in manipulation, power plays, deceit and truth. The most important element to the scene is one that is never mentioned during it. All throughout the film both Yusaku and Satoko are seen wearing Western style clothes, but Satoko arrives at the station this time wearing a traditional Japanese kimono, thus subtly hinting where her true allegiances lie.

The strongest element of “Wife of a Spy” is no doubt Yu Aoi's excellent performance as Satoko. She has a lot to do in this, from expressing her initial fears about her husband's exploits and trying to determine if he is being truthful with her, and then deciding if she has the same beliefs and ideals as him to follow him down this dangerous path, or whether or not she should turn him in. Trust, truth, identity and humanity all play a huge part in the film, and Aoi is able to encapsulate it all. She starts the film as a shy, naïve thing, but by the end her eyes are wide open and she is a much stronger force that should never be underestimated. The male actors, Issey Takahashi (playing Yusaku) and Masahiro Higashide (playing Yasuharu), do not fare as well though. It is not that they are terrible in their roles, it is just that they are more one-note in their portrayals. Maybe that is because their characters are both myopic in their ambitions, but I just felt that there were less shades of humanity in their performances, at least compared to Yu Aoi.

Whilst I was a much bigger fan of this “theatrical” version of “Wife of a Spy”, I must say that it still cannot hide it's television origins. It feels very set bound, and lacks a reality normally very present in films by Kiyoshi Kurosawa. This is the first time in a very long time that Kurosawa has not worked with his regular cinematographer, Akiko Ashizawa, on a project and you can certainly see the difference. Tatsunosuke Sasaki performs those duties on “Wife of a Spy” and although the images often are bathed in a nice yellow light, I personally think that the film has been over-lit, and that the images are too bright. This is a story that needed darkness and shadows in an attempt to build up the atmosphere and suspense. The way it has been shot has taken that all away, or at least lessened its impact. That is not to say that there are none of the iconic Kurosawa images in this, because there are. Two I can think of immediately are when the body of the dead woman is found floating in the lake, and the almost apocalyptic image at the end of Satoko standing amongst the rubble of the burning building that has just been bombed. Like the acting, the cinematography isn't terrible, but I expect much more atmospheric visuals in a Kiyoshi Kurosawa film than what we get here.

The final thing I want to mention about this film is that it goes on far too long, with the final fifteen minutes being essentially superfluous. It has the perfect ending which should've been at the image of the wave goodbye. However, for some reason Kurosawa keeps the film going long after this for a collection of scenes set in an asylum which were not needed, and took away from the film as a whole. He attempts to spell everything out to the audience which takes away from what should've been the ambiguity of its ending, but as it is now, the film ends on a relative whimper. I will say though, that this ending does come with the iconic Kurosawa shot that I mentioned above, so that is its only saving grace.

Overall, I believe that “Wife of a Spy” isn't one of Kiyoshi Kurosawa's strongest films. It is in no way a disaster, but the film just doesn't soar like it should have. This talented director struggles to build the necessary suspense and atmosphere needed to get the most out of this story. Do not get me wrong, it is a good film, with a very strong lead performance from Yu Aoi (and excellent sound design too, which I failed to mention), its just not a great film, and at the end of the day, I would say that it is a “minor” Kurosawa effort.

3 Stars.