El Pastor (The Shepherd)

Winner of Best Film and Director at the 2016 Raindance Festival, Jonathan Cenzual Burley's El Pastor (The Shepherd) starring Miguel Martin is released by Matchbox Films on Friday 2nd June.

Martin plays the titular Anselmo, a middle-aged shepherd, who lives a poor but happy life in a small, run down house in the middle of Spanish plains, but his community is slowly growing. For company, he only has his loyal dog Pillo and his abundance of sheep. This life suits him with no television, and the books from his library to read, yet a construction company wants to buy his land for a new complex.

Anselmo refuses the approaches from the company as is his prerogative, in contrast are neighbours Julian (Alfonso Mendiguchia) and Paco (Maribel Iglesias); two men who both want to sell for opposing reasons and attempt to convince the shepherd to do likewise.

The film tells this morality tale of greed and honour, with stunning consequences set against a magical landscape frozen in time.  The opening scene showing Anselmo going about his daily routine is beautifully shot and realised evoking early Terence Malick coupled with an elegant soundtrack that is both melancholic and inspiring by Tim Walters.

Burley has crafted not only a complex narrative of psychological cul-de-sacs questioning the moral shifts in the three main protagonists; each character is given an arc that is effectively rendered by the plot and the convincing performances. Anselmo goes from lonely man to fighting underdog, Paco goes from short fuse to coward and it is Julian who grows or changes the most within the story as his reasons for selling his land come to the forefront.

Harking back to B-movie Westerns with the lone farmer attempting to save his homestead, however, this film has no hero riding off into the sunset; it could be considered Burley has crafted a critique of the socio-political ramifications facing Spanish homeowners who face an uncertain future in regards to the poisonous financial climate.

El Pastor would be a pleasing pairing with The Olive Tree in a double bill, both are set in modern day Spain but dream of a simpler time in that countries past explaining how money and greed has ruined the industrious past making the present day a darker place.

This is a brilliantly constructed production with superb acting performances across the board that ratchets up the tension prudently to keep your attention gripped.

THE SHEPHERD (El Pastor) is in cinemas 2 June.

The Olive Tree

Iciar Bollain, the acclaimed director from Spain, returns with a poignant story about a determined young woman on a journey. With a screenplay written  by her partner Paul Laverty (Sweet Sixteen, The Wind that Shakes the Barley); El Olive (The Olive Tree) tells the story of tenacious Alma (Anna Castillo) who embarks on a journey from her home town near Valencia on the East Coast of Spain to Germany in order to retrieve an ancient olive tree precious to her ailing grandfather.

Encountering new acquaintances and with the help of two valuable friends, Alma learns a lot about herself and the virtue of honesty and the consequences that arise from with-holding the truth to those you love.

Bollain shoots with a vibrancy to match her leading lady, Spain looks gorgeous in the sunshine throughout in contrast to the gloomier grey of Germany upon arrival where they discover the tree in the lobby of a big energy firm that has used the tree as their company logo.  Laverty writes this as a David v Goliath clash reminiscent of the work he has done with Ken Loach, and there is a hint of Bread and Roses (2000) here.

However, like many films, the story is not about the end result of the journey but how you got there and who with; Alma learns a lot more about her family especially her uncle Alcachofa (Javier Gutierrez) and finds love with selfless Rafa (Pep Ambros).  

Bollain is lucky in that she has three capable actors at her disposal, the scenes involving the three in the cab of the truck they take to Germany are vital to the flow and spirit of the film (there is a great dialogue scene when the penny drops on the two men outside of the energy company and Alcachofa asks Rafa, 'So this is our fault?' a token line but delievered impeccably); there is no over-sentimental streak fighting to get out, there is a naturalness to proceedings that combines with the lightness.

Other films may have used an overbearing soundtrack for a crucial phone call near the film's end, instead Bollain rightly utilises the look in the eyes between Gutierrez and Castillo to speak volumes and garner the universal message.

A film that is fleeting in its message but nevertheless has universal themes that will steal your heart and stay with you long after you hear the last greenfinch.

The Olive Tree is released from Eureka Entertainment on Friday 17th March. 

My thanks to Eureka Entertainment for the screener.

El Alma de las Moscas

Or The Soul of Flies to give El Alma de las Moscas its English title, is a film written and directed by Jonathan Cenzual Burley and centres on the journey by two brothers who have never met before, who must journey together to the funeral of a father they never knew.

The brothers meet at a train station, where to their surprise the train has not gone by in years.  It is the beginning of a journey through barren landscapes punctuated by chance encounters with offbeat and weird characters that inhabit these wastelands.

Eventually, the brothers learn more about themselves and each other through these interactions with these odd ball people.

That is the general gist of the film, and the film does have the appeal of magical realism that typically Latin generic eccentricity and yet the production is a victim of its techncial accomplishments.  Shot on high definition with just one camera, a microphone and a tripod with a production crew of 7 who muscled all together - the film is imprisoned by these technical restraints.

The actors seem to wander aimlessly throughout in a state of purgatory; some harsh critics have said the film is banal - such a word makes the film seem unwatchable.  The only problem for a film that is Spanish is that it is not thrilling or have any Latin exhilaration coursing through its veins.  Even the beauty of the La Armuna in Salamanca is not used to great effect; with no great photography utilised you get a sense that this is anywhere in Spain not identifying as a region would have been of benefit.

Recently, I have watched American independent films revolve around the same discourse of troubled brothers working together for a common goal.  This film has the right idea, perhaps the message has just been lost in translation which is unfortunate considering the initial one is a good, waiting to be let loose on a larger scale model.

El Alma de Las Moscas is out on limited release on Friday 13th July

The Skin I Live In (La piel que habito)

Pedro Almodovar is reunited with Antonio Banderas in the Spanish auteur's latest filmic offering.

Banderas plays a plastic surgeon Robert Ledgard, who after suffering the death of his wife from burns sustained in a car crash, posits the idea of a transgenic skin (fusing human and pig genes).  Unbeknowst to his colleagues, who warn him off of doing the idea, he is testing the skin on Vera, a young woman he holds captive in his mansion El Cigarral outside of the city Toledo.

Vera can only communicate via the intercom installed in her room, Robert who is slowly becoming more and more infatuated with her watches from the next room by way of a television screen (which might as well be a two-way mirror). 

Robert is helped by his mother Marilia (Almodovar stalwart, Marisa Paredes), whose other son Zeca arrives and wrecks havoc on the house by raping Vera and ending up shot by Robert.  It is not spoiling the film for you by saying this, as the rape begins a flashback that explains how all these people came to be at this precise moment.

We flashback six years to a private party where Robert attends with his unhinged daughter Norma, Norma is apparently raped by a young Vicente.  Norma dies shortly afterwards and as an act of revenge, Robert kidnaps Vicente.

Almodovar is clear in indicating that Vicente is a nice young gentleman, confused more by his feelings for the attractive lesbian who works in his mother's clothes shop.  What follows however, is a typical Almodovar storyline - that mixture of soap opera melodrama with highbrow stylistics.

This recently has been a criticism of Almodovar; that brand of style over substance.  Whereas, Volver and Talk to Her can be considered stylistic, they were nevertheless films of great substance and yet oddly full of restraint, something Almodovar is not known for.

In this instance, the auteur throws caution to the wind employing an adaptation of Tarantula by Thierry Jonquet, but only the basis of a surgeon using his skills to exact a vigilante revenge.  Banderas as Ledgard is cast against type as the evil/mad doctor; who is brilliantly skilled yet twisted in his interpretation of ethics and code of conduct.  Banderas is get that bit older now, so it is good to see him taking on roles of dramatic purpose that can stretch his evident acting chops and away from those matinee idol roles of the mid to late 1990s. 

Banderas is the centre of the film, holding our attention from the outset as we watch him experimenting in his homebound laboratory.  Ledgard is a mixture of all mad doctors - Dr.Moreau, the doctor from Franju's Eyes Without a Face and even a hint of James Stewart's Scotty from Hitchcock's Vertigo - that clinical determination mixed with personal obsession.

The other gripping presence is that of Elena Anaya as Vera, who in her yoga posturing and one piece suit, is that luminous beauty Almodovar so often finds in his films following in the footsteps of Carmen Maura and Penelope Cruz.

In spite of all the fine acting, for once the person who falls short is Almodovar himself as he for once becomes a victim of his own stylistic impulses.  The story becomes secondary, even the major plot twist so important a piece of narrative detail leaves the audience more bewildered and astounded at the sheer improbability of it all.  Which is a shame because there are artistic flushes you would expect from Almodovar, and seeing Banderas act with such lustre in his native tongue is always better than seeing him voice an animated feline.

Agnosia - DVD review

Following hot on the heels of the theatrical release of Julia's Eyes in cinemas last week, Momentum Pictures release another film from the producers of Pan's Labyrinth, Agnosia is another Spanish thriller which made its UK debut at the London Spanish Film Festival.

Directed by another Guillermo Del Toro protege Eugenio Mira, and written by Antonio Trashorras (who also collaborated with Del Toro on The Devil's Backbone) the film tells the story of a young Joana Prats who after an accident suffers from a neurological illness, agnosia, that affects her perception.

As a doctor explains, we normally have a filter that reduces all the stimuli into senses of sounds and sights, in Joana's case she cannot interpret the stimuli she receives, leaving her in this perplexed state - she knows you are there but is not necessarily deaf or blind.

After the death of her father, Joana becomes victim of a sinister plan; whilst two men fight for her affection the true love of her man will become crucial; Carles (Noriega), her father's right hand man who seeks his industrial secret and Vicent (Felix Gomez) an impulsive servant who falls in love with Joana whilst working at the mansion.  Does Joana find the strength to seek out the truth, as the tagline suggests perception is not reality.

The film is blessed by the Spanish tradition of film-making influenced by the work of Victor Erice in the rich period detail of the baroque setting of the film, and the work of Del Toro's fantasy work specifically Pan's Labyrinth in terms of the visual richness and fantasy elements - the narrative themes it shares are that of a vulnerable young girl in distress, to be saved by a downtrodden young man as she escapes into a fantasy world of which neither she nor loved ones can grasp, and how love can be a mistake or mistaken for something else. 

Often in Spanish/Latin film (even in the work of Almodovar) there is an ulterior motive to someone's affection for an individual; in this instance we are aware of someone's sinister motives, and it is the young girl who finds out too late to her cost; another genre convention where for certain characters they find out too late.

The specific details of familial relationships and the fractured household in which they belong reminded me of the seminal Latin American film Like Water for Chocolate and the weight of magical realism that exudes over the film is apparent.

Starring Martina Gedeck (The Lives of Others) and Eduardo Noriega (Open Your Eyes), along with the impressive Barbara Goenaga as the suffering Joana.  The film is elegant and entertaining to a certain degree, the film just falls short of matching the Hispanic heights of Del Toro's work, even though the best of young Spanish cinema on display here finds that particular national cinema is in good spirits.

Agnosia is released by Momentum Pictures on 30 May on DVD for £12.99 and contains special features aplenty.