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Adapted from Ferdinand
Bordewijk’s classic novel, CHARACTER channels the social and political
unrest of the Netherlands between the wars into a dark Dickensian drama
of love, ambition and patricidal obsession. Opening on a moment of sudden,
violent confrontation in a shadowy warehouse, the film unfolds as authorities
interrogate Jacob Katadreuffe for the murder of Amsterdam’s most
notorious bailiff, Dreverhaven “the scourge of the poor.”
Flashing back, the bloodied young man recounts the days when his mother,
Joba was Dreverhaven’s maid and briefly his mistress, and how, after
a night of passion, he was born. Joba and Jacob eke out a living at the
onset of the Depression free from Dreverhaven’s iron rule. Gradually,
however, noirish fatalism takes hold when a bad business deal places an
unwitting Jacob in Draverhaven’s debt and into a nail-biting clash
of wills between the estranged father and son. As Jacob struggles for
a release from poverty by studying law, labor riots breakout all over
the city and the rain swept streets of Amsterdam come to form an impossible
maze owned and patrolled by Draverhaven himself. Academy Award for Best
Foreign Film.—Paul Malcolm. (120 mins.)
Based on a classic
19th-century novel by Multatuli (the pseudonym of one Eduard Douwes Dekker)
and executed on a grandiose scale, Fondemakers’ MAX HAVELAAR is
a lavish, sprawling saga that relentlessly critiques the colonial situation
in the Dutch East Indies. Peter Faber stars as the eponymous hero, an
idealistic bureaucrat promoted to a supervisory position on Java. Young,
vigorous and uncompromising, Havelaar is determined to reform the corrupt
local administration. But his high-minded plans are swiftly met with resistance—at
first subtle, then dangerously explicit—from his colonial superiors
as well as the island’s native leaders, all of whom profit from
the exploitative system. Shot on location in Indonesia after extensive
research, MAX HAVELAAR belongs among the most Herculean auteur efforts
of the ’70s, alongside Herzog’s FITZCARRALDO and Coppola’s
APOCALYPSE NOW. And like these other epics set in far-flung exotic milieu,
Rademakers’ film is both a towering aesthetic accomplishment and
a devastating indictment of Western imperial ambition and, in the word
of critic Peter Cowie, “the most imposing fiction film ever produced
in the Netherlands.”—Jesse Zigelstein. (167 mins.)
Backed by a group of
concerned American artists and writers (including Lillian Hellman and
Dorothy Parker), globetrotting documentarian Joris Ivens and cameraman
John Ferno plunged into the frontlines of the Spanish Civil War to witness
the anti-fascist struggle. For the politically progressive Ivens, the
job of the documentary filmmaker was to inform audiences but also to “mobilize
them to become active.” With commentary written by Ernest Hemingway
and narrated by Orson Welles, THE SPANISH EARTH is a stirring portrait
of a people’s struggle for democracy and a wrenching account of
a human tragedy as it unfolds. Though the tone seems ever hopeful of a
Republican victory (Ivens captured the fervor at the official founding
of the People’s Army), the film never flinches from the horrors
of war. Similar to the mounting rhythms of Ivens’ avant-garde study,
RAIN (1929), in which a few drops become a torrential downpour, the film’s
full force builds slowly.—Paul Malcolm. (52 mins.)
Shortly after escaping
German Occupation, Douglas Sirk joined the Dutch film industry and was
asked by the City Film Company to make its first feature. LITTLE RASCAL,
adapted from a book and popular play by M.J. Brusse, tells the story of
a little street urchin in Rotterdam in the 1930s. Thanks to the efforts
of a local priest, the boy ends up against his will in a boys’ school
in the country. He manages to escape, but after committing a petty crime,
ends up back at the priest’s place again, shows his good heart and
returns remorsefully to the boys’ home. LITTE RASACAL was nominated
for the Golden Palm at the first Cannes Film Festval, which never took
place because of the outbreak of World War II. Restored by the Nederland
Filmmuseum in 1999, this was Sirk’s last European film before escaping
to a distinguished career in Hollywood. (90 mins.)
Part city symphony,
part ethnographic essay, this award-winning documentary aims to reveal
what is unique about a country with “no great talkers, singers,
or dancers,” where “even the monuments are small and cozy.”
A simultaneously intimate and critical narration serves as our guide through
a torrent of candid images of the Dutch people at play and in love, haggling
over cattle, or vigorously scrubbing their front stoops. A focus on the
body and gesture lends the film a delightful zoomorphic edge; in fact,
Haanstra went on to make a feature about chimpanzees. Creatures of grace
on ice and in water, the prudish Dutch prove to be as comically awkward
as Jerry Lewis when they maneuver to change clothes on the beach while
keeping their decency intact.—Theresa Schwartzman. (85 mins.)
The first film from
the director of ANTONIA’S LINE was a feminist cause célèbre
at the time of its release and the question the film poses—can murder
be a sane response to patriarchal oppression—still provokes heated
debate, or at the very least incites reflection on how drastically the
terms of feminist thought have shifted. A chic female psychiatrist’s
world is turned upside down when she is asked to determine the sanity
of three women who have committed the brutal and apparently senseless
murder of a male clerk in a dress shop. The women—a housewife, a
waitress, and a secretary—were strangers to each other until the
moment of the crime and they refuse to give a motive for their act. Their
stories come together through flashbacks, little fragments of a puzzle
that gradually and incompletely reveals a picture of silenced female voices
and smothered female potential that eventually erupt as a terrible, and
terribly sane rage.—Theresa Schwartzman. (92 mins.)
Van Warmerdam
made his film debut with ABEL (1986), a claustrophobic black comedy about
voyeurism and familial dysfunction. These themes are further elaborated
in THE NORTHERNERS, but van Warmerdam here broadens his canvas to observe
the eccentric inhabitants of an unfinished subdivision in the Dutch hinterlands
circa 1960. The film’s off-kilter ensemble centers around a sexually-frustrated
butcher and his fanatically religious wife; their mischievous son, obsessed
with Congolese liberation (he likes to put on blackface and call himself
“Lumumba”) and beguiled by a water sprite living in the forest;
a gun-toting prig, tormented by his own sterility and sudden onset of
blindness; and van Warmerdam himself, as a delinquent mailman prone to
peeking into the letters in his satchel. Observing each character—like
specimens under glass—in his or her own absurd predicament, van
Warmerdam wisely withholds judgment on his quirky creations. Deadpan dark
humor and gentle social satire—spiced with an occasional pinch of
magical realism—are the hallmarks of THE NORTHERNERS.—Jesse
Zigelstein. (107 mins.)
A study of the resistance
movement operating througout Europe during the Second World War. In a
documentary style, the film recounts the facts that led up to a risky
raid carried out on December 8, 1944 on the prison in Leeuwarden. Members
of the Dutch resistance movement successfully attacked the prison and
freed a group of fellow countrymen who had been arrested by the Germans.
A major commercial success in Holland, the film’s glorious black
and white cinematography has been restored by the Nederlands Filmmuseum.
(81 mins.)
The first film
produced in Surinam in the year after it gained independence from Holland,
ONE PEOPLE tells a hopeful national allegory through the character of
Roy, a young Creole student in the Netherlands who is called back to Surinam
to attend his dying mother. Initially reluctant to leave his Dutch girlfriend
and his urban lifestyle, Roy gradually discovers that his homeland holds
more complexity and secrets than he ever imagined, especially when he
falls in love with Rubia, a Surinamese Hindustani girl. As Roy and Rubia
fall deeper into each other’s worlds, their outraged parents conspire
to separate the racially mixed pair by sending Roy back to Holland. The
Romeo and Juliet story points to a split between the older generation
of colonial Dutch Guyanese whose racial taboos echo those of their colonizer,
while the younger Surinamese understand that their country’s strength
lies within the difference of its peoples. Dazzling lens flares, Roy’s
sexy flared jeans, and a beguiling polyglot soundtrack give this film
the righteous feel of an album cover from the era of free love.—Theresa
Schwartzman. (90 mins.)
Transformation under
duress is at the nexus of this psychological and philosophical wartime
drama by Fons Rademakers. The setting is Holland under German occupation
and young Ducker, a faint-hearted cigar trader, is surviving the war and
an unhappy marriage the best he can. Then one dark night, a mysterious
secret agent who looks remarkably like Ducker except for his black hair,
parachutes into the young man's back yard. The secret agent, Dorbeck,
enlists Ducker's help in his missions against the Germans, and before
much time has elapsed, Ducker has joined the resistance fighters and is
actively engaged in the anti-German, underground war effort. He becomes
daring, confident, and imaginative—all the qualities missing in
his earlier life. But then the war ends and brings an ironic twist to
Ducker's career as a brave patriot. Produced by Alfred Heineken, then
the head of the famed Dutch brewery, the film was screened at the 1963
Cannes Film Festival, withdrawn from circulation in the late 1960s, and
finally re-released in 2003 after restoration by the Nederlands Filmmuseum.
(120 mins.)
A sober psychological
thriller that plays like a Dutchman’s take on Hitchcock via icy
Gallic master Claude Chabrol, THE VANISHING pivots on the unsolved abduction
of a young woman from a highway rest stop in France. Three years later,
her boyfriend (Gene Bervoets) is still obsessed with her disappearance
and tries desperately to make contact with her abductor. The film takes
the unconventional tack of disclosing the perpetrator (Bernard-Pierre
Donnadieu) to the audience almost immediately; Sluizer even supplies extended
flashbacks that reveal this mild-mannered sociopath—a bourgeois
French academic and family man—as he dispassionately works through
the preparations for his crime. Since the scrambled chronology effectively
vitiates the whodunit aspect, Sluizer instead foregrounds the mysteries
of motive (why?) and the victim’s ultimate fate (what happened to
her?)—precisely the questions that drive (and torment) the film’s
nominal “hero,” whose desire for closure—for answers—leads
inexorably to the plot’s final wicked twist. Largely devoid of onscreen
violence, melodramatic effects or typical thriller tropes, the film builds
suspense through subtle technical means—temporal jumps, narrative
gaps, shifting points-of-view—to become that rare and chilling creature—the
thinking person’s scary movie.—Jesse Zigelstein. (110 mins.)
Verhoeven’s last Dutch language
film before he went to Hollywood to direct such films as BASIC INSTINCT,
SHOWGIRLS and STARSHIP TROOPERS serves the kitsch so straight its hard
to know whether he’s serious or putting us on. Based on the novel
by pioneering gay author Gerard Reve, THE 4TH MAN is an erotic-thriller
that deliciously tweaks the genre’s psychological pretensions. A
controversial writer on the skids, Gerard Reve (Jeroen Krabbé)
wakes with trembling hands, entertains fantasies of murdering his live-in
lover and pays his liquor bills by lecturing to suburban literary clubs.
The writer’s mental breakdown is a license to cook up a giddy host
of biblical allusions and surrealist imagery, an over-the-top dreamscape
from which emerges a tangled sexuality when Christine (Reneé Soutendijk),
a wealthy platinum blonde with a alarming string of deceased husbands,
seduces Reve who, in turn, sets out to seduce her rock-a-billy lover Herman
(Thom Hoffman). With everyone playing both predator and prey, Reve teeters
between madness and revelation until finally he succumbs, but is it to
a sinister plot or his own mounting paranoia? —Paul Malcolm. (102
mins.)
A Peruvian taxi driver tells the story
of the great, lost love of his life and then asks Honigmann if she would
like to hear the first song they danced to. He slips in the cassette and
the camera records without interruption as the man sings along. The startling
simplicity of such moments is what makes Honigmann (O AMOR NATURAL) a
documentarian like no other. In METAL Y MELANCOLIA, she turns her camera
on gypsy cab drivers in Peru during a period of severe economic crisis
when it seems anyone with a car—a medical publicist, a film actor,
a professor of aviation—has taken on a second job as a taxista.
The film proceeds as a series of rides, so each driver appears only briefly,
but Honigmann’s clear-eyed attention to detail and remarkable ability
to earn her subjects’ trust provide us a strong sense of how life
must feel in another’s shoes.—Theresa Schwartzman. (80 mins.)
One of the most revealing moments
in Johan van der Keuken’s exuberant documentary, BRASS UNBOUND,
comes when a British missionary in Ghana recalls an attempt to organize
a brass band decades earlier. “I wanted them to learn our notes,”
he says but native audiences were unmoved by British marches and anthems.
When the musicians used their trumpets, tubas and euphoniums to play local
high life tunes, however, audiences leapt to their feet and a new music
was born. From Ghana to Surinam to Nepal to Indonesia, van der Keuken
pursues the colonial pathways of brass instruments to explore the powerful
legacies of such cross-cultural encounters the world over. An innovative
filmmaker with a keen facility for illuminating the finer points of global
interconnectedness, van der Keuken proves equally adept at personalizing
complex currents of influence and resistance. His subjects in each region
are working musicians who provide the living soundtrack for communal events
such as weddings, funerals and religious festivities.—Paul Malcolm.
(90 mins.)
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