The world on celluloid

It seems like every year the Portland International Film Festival jumps up and bites me in the ass.

“Ouch!” I say, “That sure was surprising.” And then I look around at what the box office is showing and thank the film God (third-level deity) for his fortuitous international bounty.

The best movies this month aren’t coming out of Hollywood—they’re happening at this fest, and they are from all over the world.

From gritty, brutal crime dramas to tortured romances and Russian dystopias, the Northwest Film Center has collected a group of films that should tickle the fancy of any film lover, even those who aren’t “art house” types.

And while there might be an excessive amount of whimsy, or one too many serious, frowny-faced dramas, if anything, PIFF is too much of a good thing.

So check it out, the fest starts today and ends on Feb. 21. It’s like traveling on the super cheap, but you don’t really have to move.

Gomorrah
Italy, directed by Matteo Garrone
4 out 5 stars
Feb. 6 at 6:30 p.m., Feb. 9 at 6 p.m.
Whitsell Auditorium

Kill or be killed—it’s the law of the streets. And the real-life Camorra crime syndicate of Naples, Italy, on which Gomorrah is based, knows this all too well.

The films opens up with shots of Eurotrash gangsters in tanning booths, laughing and joking, bathed in the bluish light of UV rays. They are promptly shot in the head, slowly, one by one, slumping into their small tanning rooms that now look like eerie caskets.

The camera of director Matteo Garrone doesn’t shy away, instead capturing the carnage in the everyday vernacular of a documentarian. This film is about senseless brutality, and it delivers in a chilling, matter-of-fact fashion.

Based on a nonfiction book, which earned the author permanent police protection, Gomorrah follows five interwoven tales of gangster life in the Naples slums. From a teenager trying to prove his mettle the only way he knows how, to an aging boss gripping the last remains of his power with all his might, the film trails its characters simply as they act.

Its deft touch applied to some heavy material, and Garrone deserves praise for his near-perfect balance of open-ended storytelling and concrete details.

Imagine the painstaking mis-en-scene and documentary staging of The Battle of Algiers welded to the gritty urban truth of The Wire, and you’ll start to understand Gomorrah‘s triumph. The film revels in the vicious certainty of life, and the impotent rage that is the root of violence.

Hunger
Great Britain, directed by Steve Mcqueen
5 out of 5 stars
Feb. 7 at 8:30 p.m., Feb. 11 at 8:30 p.m.
Whitsell Auditorium

Hunger is a profound mediation on torture and martyrdom. It’ll leave you shaken, queasy and a little fucked in the head. This isn’t just a masterpiece by first-time director Steve McQueen; it’s a stone-cold masterpiece, a film about the past that precisely encapsulates our current fascination and dread of torture and its consequences.

Based on a true story and set in 1981 around a prison that houses members of the Irish Republican Army, Hunger artfully and quietly follows the prisoners’ slow rebellion against the government in search of political status.

First they protest by using their bodily functions—smearing feces on the wall, refusing to bathe or shave, dumping urine into the hallway and onto the guards. This seems wrong and counterproductive, but makes sense when you consider the dehumanizing effects of the cruel prison life.

When that plan doesn’t work, the men go on a hunger strike led by Bobby Sands, a heroic leader amongst the prisoners. From then on, we watch Sands, played powerfully by Michael Fassbender, disintegrate on his 65-day march to death, refusing to turn away from his mission of becoming a martyr.

The film’s deliberative and beautiful style and its subtle, fierce writing change this from being simply an interesting rehash of events to something much more. The dialogue’s centerpiece is between Sands and his priest and it carefully deconstructs the value of the ultimate sacrifice.

And while the careful framing and lighting of every shot in the movie borders on fetish, McQueen, a renowned video artist, carefully toes the line. Hunger never feels exploitative even as it wrenches at your emotions and engages your senses.

If you’re willing to experience the pit of human despair, and the compelling places to which an evocative team of artists are willing to go, see Hunger. The power here is electric.