Israel and Palestine in a whole new light (and genre): Sameh Zoabi's TEL AVIV ON FIRE

What a low-key delight is the new genre-melding movie, TEL AVIV ON FIRE. Taking on the Israel-Palestine conflict -- which we've now seen in just about every manner one would imagine possible, from documentaries such as the questing/philosophic (David Hare's Wall), historical (Colliding Dreams) and the bring-us-together sort (In the Land of Pomegranates) to narrative thrillers (The Little Drummer Girl, either version), family sagas (The Other Son), love stories (Omar) and sex-tryst films (the recent Reports on Sarah and Saleem) -- it provides quite the new perspective.

The genre we have not seen much of regarding this particular subject is comedy. To which you might immediately respond, "And for good reason, dummy!" Until you've viewed the movie under consideration here, that is.

As written and directed by Sameh Zoabi (shown at right), Tel Aviv on Fire might best be described as shambling -- which is not simply deliberate but a huge part of its charm. The film starts slowly and moves even more so. Yet that quiet, unhurried pace builds continually into something near amazing: funny, feisty, satiric, ironic and quite delightful. At film's end TrustMovies was in a state of sheer joy at its underhanded accomplishment of casting the kind of light on this more than 70-year conflict that both upends it and forces you to view it differently.

Even the film's seemingly incendiary title (which doubles as the name of a Palestinian soap opera that is also quite popular with the women of Israel) is part of the fun here. Our hero, a shamblin' man named Salam (Kais Nashif, above), who works as a low-end go-fer at that soap opera which his uncle produces, in order to get back into the affections of his old girl-friend, as well as gain faster thoroughfare at the Palestinian checkpoint, tell a fairly minor fib -- he claims to be a writer on the soap -- which results in his liaison with a Israeli military officer (Yaniv Biton, below) that actually does lead him into that writer's position.

What happens after gets sillier, funnier and much more productive in terms of irony and even depth of perspective, as everyone from the cast, director, original writer, Salam's ex-girlfriend (the lovely Maisa Abd Elhadi, below, left), the lead actress in the soap (a very funny Lubna Azabal), and that military officer's wife all become involved in the goings-on.

One of the small but piquant joys of the film is how this Palestinian soap opera seems different in scale yet all too redolent of soaps around the world. Ditto how love stories resort to such similar schemes to work themselves out. And, yes, how the male ego -- whether Israeli, Palestinian, or any other culture/nation -- proves every bit as tender and typical as you might expect.

The movie may be low-key, but it's an absolute triumph in just about every way -- never more so than when it addresses the Israeli-Palestinian conflict without violence yet head-on, dead-on and with such unalloyed precision and delight.

From the Cohen Media Group, running 97 minutes, in Arabic and Hebrew (with English subtitles for both), Tel Aviv on Fire, after opening on the coasts earlier this month, hits South Florida this Friday, August 23. In Miami, look for it at the Coral Gables Art Cinema, in Hollywood at the  Cinema Paradiso, in Fort Lauderdale at the Savor Cinema, in Boca Raton at the Living Room Theaters; and at the Movies of Delray and Movies of Lake Worth. Wherever you live around the USA, to see if the film is playing anywhere near you, click here.

Serbia and a family--past and present--in Mila Turajlic's THE OTHER SIDE OF EVERYTHING

If you think you know Serbia -- as TrustMovies rather foolishly imagined that he did -- simply from earlier history and/or reports of the wartime genocide and destruction of Yugoslavia back in the 1990s, here is an unusual and surprising documentary -- THE OTHER SIDE OF EVERYTHING -- made by a filmmaker (Mila Turajlic) about her mother (Srbijanka Turajlić), a former professor, constant activist and noted scholar. The movie's concen, one of them at least, is what the modern "creation" of a separate Serbian state has meant to mom, her friends and family, and to the barely recognized old woman who, along with her late husband, had been living ensconced in a couple of sealed-off rooms of the family's apartment for decades. Yes: Right about now, you're entitled to be asking, What the fuck?

Who was this old woman, and why has she been there? That's just one of the several questions opened up and only somewhat answered in this slow-burn exploration by a daughter (shown at right) of what it has meant to be her mother over not simply the decades that daughter has been alive, but back to the time of her grandparents and great-grandparents. Simultaneously, the documentary explores what it has meant to live in Belgrade over these lifetimes, during which, as mom points out, you took for granted (don't we all?) that your city would always be part of the same country.

One of the more telling moments comes as mom recalls filling out the first census under Serbia's genocidal President Slobodan Milošević and no longer being able to check off, under "country," the choice of Yugoslavia. The younger Turajlić certainly has visual flair: From her opening, as we view the building in which she grew up shrouded in fog, her sense of color, design and composition proves beautiful and compelling. But it's her foray into family and politics that will most amaze you, I think.

Her mother (above and below), as Mila points out in not unkindly fashion toward the film's end, is a hypocrite. And despite her very progressive and near-lifelong activism, mom is bourgeois to the bone. Just note her attention to the caring for and cleaning of the apartment, as well as the unending delight she takes in her fine china and crystal. Conversely, it seems that her poor "tenant," a self-proclaimed and proud member of the proletariat, was also a huge fan of Milošević. (Well, consider the fan base of the current President of the USA.)

The ironies come thick and fast here. And for folk like me who are not that conversant with Serbian history, we'll probably realize that we're missing half the fun (and the sadness). The younger Turajlić has researched well the archives for some very interesting newsreel footage, and it may surprise audiences to learn that while most Serbs supported Milošević, many did not. The scenes of protests against this dictator should make you think twice.

You may wonder along the way how it is that the senior Turajlić survived until now. Was the regime afraid to turn her into a martyr? Or did she, as during the protest shown near the film's beginning, sometimes not join in due to the remonstrations from her filmmaker daughter? And how about the bizarre treatment of her long-term tenant, for whom she seems to have shown almost no interest? (Her husband, the filmmaker's father, at least according the daughter's account here, was actively verbally abusive to the older couple.)

Well, nobody's perfect, and Srbijanka Turajlić seems in many ways a model of progressive thinking and behavior. And her daughter's fine documentary -- remarkably rich, moving and so beautifully filmed -- should stand the test of time, as well as giving American audiences their first wider look at the recently "renovated" nation they know a lot less about than they might have imagined. And yes, those closed doors (below) do eventually get opened.

After a very limited theatrical release last year, the documentary arrives on home video this coming week via Icarus Films Home Video. Look for it to hit the street on DVD and VOD next Tuesday, August 13 -- for purchase and/or rental.

I DO NOT CARE IF WE GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS BARBARIANS: Radu Jude's film hits screens

That statement in the headline above, which doubles as the title of this new Romanian movie, are the words of Marshal Ion Antonescu (shown on the TV screen in photo, bottom), Romania’s military dictator, to the Council of Ministers during the summer of 1941 that is said to have begun the ethnic cleansing on the Nazi's Eastern Front during World War II.

The movie itself tracks the fictional planning and execution of a particular outdoor theatrical celebratory event to take place in present-day Romania that is being put together by a certain talented, intelligent, and very driven young woman.

I DO NOT CARE IF WE GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS BARBARIANS is the creation of the very real and also very talented Romanian filmmaker Radu Jude (shown at left, of Aferim! & Scarred Hearts), who again shows us how unusually creative he can be while simultaneously breaking some cinematic rules that many of us probably hold quite dear. His long (two hours and 20 minutes) but never boring (for thoughtful audiences, at least) movie is jam-packed with discussions -- political, philosophical, biblical, historical -- by that young woman and her associates, her married boyfriend and especially the evidently high-level muckety-muck who formerly OKed her project but is now having second thoughts about the wisdom of it all.

If these discussions were not enough of a problem (come on, come on: where's the car chase?), the movie assumes an interest in Romanian history, of which we get quite a lot. By virtue of the fact that Romanian history is so very like so much of European history -- especially concerning the round-up, persecution and murder of the Jewish population -- that assumption turns out to be dead-on.

Our heroine is given such a fine and feisty performance by Ioana Iacob (shown above, center, and below, right) that we are almost immediately in her clutches. She's not simply smart and talented; she also cares about what she is doing to the extent that she'll risk her career, such as it is, to make sure her intentions -- showing her country its unvarnished past, genocides and all (Romania is said to have gladly exterminated more Jews than any other European country save Nazi Germany, together with Hitler's own homeland, Austria).

The movie is full of irony (atop and inside other ironies) so that even when dealing with the most awful portions of Romanian history, dark humor proliferates. And Jude films his provocative discussions in every possible place, including bedside, with his heroine and her boyfriend nude and full-frontal, even as they argue.

How the final event plays out -- we see it in all its detailed "glory" --  is also awash in irony. I won't go into specifics but will say that the movie in one big way disappoints because, if it was obvious to me (and probably will be to you) how things will turn out, this makes the expectations of both the heroine and her main detractor seem rather naive and ridiculous. If we so readily know, how could they not?

Still, I Do Not Care If We Go Down in History as Barbarians proves a rich, ripe history lesson as well as a morality tale about why a country needs to know and confront its own history, including the worst of it. God knows America still has this lesson to learn, as do more and more of the world's other homelands -- even as a sleazy, stupid nationalism continues to overwhelm their thinking populaces via jingoistic demagogues.

From Big World Pictures, in Romanian with English subtitles, the movie opens this Friday, July 19, in New York City at the IFC Center, and the following Friday, July 26, in the Los Angeles area at Laemmle's Monica Film Center. Another five cities have theatrical screenings in the weeks to come. Click here (then scroll down) to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

Michael Haneke's HAPPY END is just what you expect -- and every bit as much dark fun, too

Dissecting (and eviscerating) Europe's haute bourgeoisie, as ever, German filmmaker Michael Haneke is at it once again. In HAPPY END he's working with those splendid actors he also used in his Oscar-winning (but not really very good) Amour --Isabelle Huppert and Jean-Louis Trintignant -- and he's added a number of other, lesser-known (except for Mathieu Kassovitz) performers, each of whom does a terrific job. Especially fine is the young actress Fantine Harduin (shown two photos below and already seen in both the Spiral TV series and in Fanny's Journey), here playing the family's subversive and highly problematic grandchild. The spot-on scene between her and Trintignant toward the film's conclusion is a keeper that also deftly manages to bring all of the movie's concerns to the fore.

Herr Haneke, shown at left, is doing pretty much what he always does, and, as usual, he does it so well -- quietly, subtly, often indirectly -- that intelligent audience are likely to follow along, enrapt as ever.

The very upper-middle class family this time around owns what appears to be a construction firm that may be having some economic difficulties, soon to be made even more difficult by an event -- shown by Haneke ever so quietly, suddenly and at the perfect distance so that it becomes what TrustMovies would call one of the year's best "special effects" -- that helps set things on their ever-spiraling and downward course.

If that very pretty granddaughter, above, has her difficulties, so, too, does Trintignant's other grandchild, played by an actor new to me but very worth seeing, Franz Rogowski (below).

These two young people have problems that are quite obvious. Less so are those of the family matriarch, Trintignant's daughter (played by Huppert, below, commanding and cold, as she so often is) and her sleazy, superficial younger brother (played by Kassovitz, two photos down).

Britisher Toby Jones (shown second from right in the photo at bottom) joins the group as Huppert's fiance, a moneyed fellow who just might pull the ailing company out of its doldrums. The family is cared for and waited upon by a group of French-via-Algeria-looking servants, who are treated not quite badly (but not quite well, either).

All this comes to a delightfully dark head at the engagement party for Huppert and Jones. From the film's beginning right through to its finale, Haneke sees to it that our modern technology plays a major part. How he does this is both clever and unsettling -- which is, one way or another, ultimately the case with all of his films.

From Sony Pictures Classics, Happy End (ah, the irony!) has already played a number of cities throughout the country during its large though limited theatrical run. Click here to see all current and upcoming playdates, cities and theaters.

Film noir and subversive humor combine with animation in Jian Liu's HAVE A NICE DAY

Not comparable with much else that TrustMovies has so far seen, especially in the realm of animation, Chinese filmmaker Jian Liu's new bizarre concoction entitled, with supreme irony, HAVE A NICE DAY proves such a darkly amusing look at China's underside -- does this country possess an "upside"?  Even when we see its cultural capitals and sleek skyscrapers, there always seems to be nefarious doings afoot --  that our grin turns quickly into a grimace.

As we watch Mr. Jian (shown below), as writer/director, take a gimlet-eyed look at what passes for a part of China's middle class (most if not all of them involved in crooked dealings), we see a society in which nitwit consumerism reigns supreme. (Yes, one might say that the USA reflects all of this, too.)

It seems that not only criminals, gangsters and family members are dirty, but maybe even some Buddhist monks, as well. "Dirty" may not be quite le mot juste, however, as these folk are simply trying to get ahead (or merely survive) as best they can. What they do ranges from criminal (unless stealing from a criminal is not a criminal act) to merely immoral, very violent or just plain mean.

Jian's movie is full of economics, humor, philosophy and politics -- though the latter is, I suspect, somewhat buried. If I were Chinese I'm sure I would have gleaned at least double the amount of information and enjoyment from the film, yet what I managed to get still provided an awfully good time.

My favorite moment comes as a criminal couple (above) imagines their upcoming life in Shangri-la (below) as a kind of musical number done in the style of those old Chinese Communist propaganda songs.

Among the philosophical wonders here is the explanation by one character to another of why freedom actually equals consumerism, while what you get depends on where you buy. This is quite the original little gem.

Animation-wise the movie's simplicity also proves its great strength. Jian mostly uses stationary backgrounds in front of which the action takes place. It's an odd combo of realism and stylization, and it works very well to create what you might call animation noir.

We follow along as that ever-popular "bag of money" leads one character to another and yet another until we've come full circle and seen what greed (and, yes, need) can produce. The fact that the first fellow we meet (you couldn't in your wildest dreams call him a hero) is stealing that money in order to pay for a second facial surgery for his girlfriend (because her first one was badly botched) just adds to the film's "crazy consumerism" theme. (Too bad Jian doesn't animate that bad plastic surgery; it'd be interesting to see what he came up with.)

There is so much dark fun to be had here, with much of this coming from the fact that (probably to keep his budget in tow) the director cuts away from almost all of the kind of excess blood, gore, car crashes and "action stuff" that so many of our current blockbusters delight in overdoing.

From Strand Releasing and running a just right 77-minutes, Have a Nice Day opens this Friday, January 26, in New York City at the Angelika Film Center and in Los Angeles, the following Friday, February 2, at Laemmle's Ahrya Fine Arts -- after which it will play another 18 cities across the country. Click here, then scroll down to click on Screenings in the task bar, to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

With MARK FELT: THE MAN WHO BROUGHT DOWN THE WHITE HOUSE, Peter Landesman complements an earlier "Watergate" movie

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Lower education unveiled in Jan Hřebejk/Petr Jarkovský's dark and delicious THE TEACHER

Another first-rate gem from the film-making team of director Jan Hřebejk and writer Petr Jarkovský, who have earlier given us Divided We Fall, Up and Down and Kawasaki's Rose, their newest venture -- THE TEACHER -- is also one of their best. Of course, we say this every time the pair makes a new movie. But, hey: It's true. I can't think of another film-making team that produces such consistently funny black comedies that are simultaneously ridden with examples of sad, weak and oh-so-real humanity. The combo is bracing, to say the least.

This Czech duo, pictured above with Mr. Jarkovský on the left, knows how to create situations so fraught with oddities and ironies that yet seem absolutely believable, and its combination of smart dialog, nimble direction and terrific performances results in movies that are both memorable and hugely entertaining.

So it is again with The Teacher, which tells the tale of a rather special teacher back in 1983, when Czechoslovakia was under the thumb of Communist Russia. One of the consistent surprises of this film-making team is how accessible, understandable and darkly funny it makes life under the Communist behemoth. I suppose that abusive power is pretty much the same all over the world; the degree to which is it used is what varies. Here in the USA we may just be seeing currently the fuller exposure of that particular iceberg.

Our teacher, played with a rich array of acting arsenal attributes by Zuzana Mauréry (above and below) has a fascinating and unfortunately all-too-easily-achieved way of working the system. TrustMovies will not go into details, for these are both original and too much fun to spoil your surprise.

Said to be based on a real situation that the writer and director make seem all the more so, The Teacher tackles the subject of fighting against injustice vs groveling to power, and the parents of the children of whom this teacher is in charge come down, as expected, on both sides of the issue and to varying degrees. What they say and how they say it in order to explain their position makes for much of the movie's exhilarating (if queasy-making) fun.

Bravery under Communism was hard to come by, and even when it reared its head, this might have been for as many wrong reasons as right. The filmmakers understand this, and they also know how to demonstrate it without finger-wagging or hammering it home. The situation, if it divides the parents (above), also brings together a set of students (below) who, under other circumstances, might have almost nothing in common. Here they bond -- in yet more irony!

Defection, education, submission and protest, the movie covers them all -- and more. By the time of its denouement, which takes Czechoslovakia to its post-Communist era, The Teacher unveils its final small-but-telling irony which is, like the film itself, a dark gem.

From Film Movement and running a just-right 103 minutes, the movie has its New York City premiere at Film Forum in New York City this coming Wednesday, August 30. Elsewhere? Well, it opens in Santa Fe at The Screen on Friday, September 8. Click here then scroll down to see futher upcoming playdates across the country.