Author: Elijah Bukreev

It is so rare and exciting to find a Middle Eastern film in our theaters. Last year, we had the endearing Wadjda from Saudi Arabia, which was directed by a woman — a first for that country. Every year, barriers like that are crossed. This time, the movie is Omar and the country is Palestine.

So says the Academy that nominated it for an Oscar in the Best Foreign Language Film category. In 2005, Paradise Now, also directed by the Palestinian-Israeli Hany Abu-Assad, had been granted the same honour, but was ultimately credited as coming from the Palestinian Territories. There is nothing innocent in that change of appellation.

Omar is only the second film to represent the country, which many states have yet to recognize. The film was made by a man who holds Israeli citizenship, with some Israeli actors, shot mostly in an Israeli city, but supported with Palestinian funds. The debate over what is Palestinian and what is not has been raging for an awfully long time and has spilled over into the world of filmmaking.

This is one of the themes in Omar which stars Adam Bakri, who is very confident in his first screen role. He plays a young Palestinian baker, easy to identify with by the way he jokes and takes silly risks for love, like routinely visiting his girlfriend Nadia (Leem Lubany) by climbing the separation wall.

One evening, he makes the impulsive decision to join his childhood friends in murdering an Israeli soldier. Does that make him a freedom fighter or a terrorist? The movie takes a clear stand, but is sincere enough to allow for other interpretations. In the end, it’s all a matter of personal conviction, although Omar works as an involving and tense drama regardless of where you fall on the political spectrum.

The young man is quickly found out. We are not told how. His little world is nothing but a dollhouse to the ubiquitous Israeli secret police, who seem to read into minds and souls. Omar is then brought in for questioning. Torture methods are immediately used, but prove unsuccessful. The next day, a man sits at Omar’s table in the prison lunchroom and warns him of the dangers that may await him. The police, he says, have informants in the prison, whose task is to befriend the accused and bring them to confess.

Omar is resolute: “I will never confess.”

It is both shocking and darkly humorous to see his new acquaintance later turn up in the interrogation room, plain-clothed. Agent Rami (Waleed Zuaiter) takes out a recording device and plays back that very sentence. Omar is told it will be used as proof of his guilt, unless he accepts to collaborate, which would mean betraying his friends.

The two men meet repeatedly, as Omar struggles with his new reality. One time, we find them in a casual setting, in Rami’s office. He has just finished chatting with his mother on the phone. Omar stands in prison clothes, miserable but optimistic.

The men exchange a few nice words. It becomes obvious that, under different circumstances, they might have been good friends. They seem to grow conscious of it too, but are stuck within their own incompatible trajectories. Rami is trying to be good at his job. Omar wants to protect his companions and fight for his people. In a way, they are similar: they both wish to conform to their respective societies. Reconciliation begins with understanding their life positions could have been swapped.

Omar is simple, effective and while it lacks a distinctive visual style, it makes up for it with exotic, biblical locations. Above all, what the movie does well is show how a man can be destroyed inside out by an institution — any institution, really — as Omar is methodically turned into a surrogate tool. Whether he’s working with the police or the freedom fighters, he’s trapped. Officials keep threatening him with a life sentence, but it doesn’t take long for him to realize — the world he inhabits is a prison already.

Omar plays at Cinema Excentris with subtitles in English and French.

Here comes a reminder that not all independent films are artful per se. Odd Thomas is a smaller project for Stephen Sommers, but not one devoid of his usual trademarks. A graduate of Michael Bay’s school of filmmaking, he is intent on over-stuffing his films to the extreme. If you do see his latest movie, what you could do is keep a little checklist of clichés and mark them down one by one as they splash across the screen.

Are there unnecessary special effects? Check. Do all women look (and sound) like supermodels? Check. Are there explosions? Check it twice. It’s likely the most fun you’ll get out of the experience.

Odd Thomas, solemnly played by Anton Yelchin, is the hero. Odd is actually his first name, which he got as a result of a doctor mishearing ‘Todd’ at the time of his birth. Otherwise, he is a typical young man — except that he’s not. He has a well-guarded secret, a superpower of sorts, the ability to see the dead.

He also sees giant, semi-transparent bugs, whose presence means trouble. It was surprising to hear them being referred to as ‘botox’ throughout the movie. Of course, this isn’t a metaphor for plastic surgery; they are actually bodachs, creatures of Scottish folklore.

Thomas uses his powers to stop criminals and mass murderers, co-operating with his town’s police forces. His main accomplice, the chief of police, is portrayed by Willem Dafoe, who invokes some of his American Psycho cop charm.

Thomas’ has a girlfriend, nicknamed “Stormy” (Addison Timlin), who works at an ice creamery. In many ways, she is the emotional anchor of the film. She is just as odd as her boyfriend; it takes brass balls to keep serving sweets while on the phone with Thomas, who has nothing on his mind but decapitations and gruesome killings. Her face never betrays any emotion, except her usual giggly attitude, which could be taken for a character trait, but one might suspect is rather due to Timlin’s shameless lack of talent.

All things considered, Odd Thomas is exactly what it sounds like: The Sixth Sense made as a teenage action flick crossed with a police investigation story. Its shortcomings are innumerable — take the slapdash, in-your-face directing, or vulgar changes in tone. There are no proper transitions between the romance, fart jokes and gory violence. It’s a big clutter of crummy ideas.

Odd is not a strong enough qualifier. One would rather call it awkward, or better yet, inept.

The horror elements are predictable, the humour clearly aimed towards younger audience members and the story better suited for the small screen. Sommers is forced to work with no special effects for a good part of the film, which he has dealt with by over-stylizing fights and pursuits to a point where it just hurts the eye.

It’s not hard to understand what the director was trying to accomplish in the screenplay, a fairly well-intentioned adaptation of Dean Koontz’ eponymously-titled novel. Suffice to say that it doesn’t translate well to the big screen.

The film was supposed to come out in July 2013, but ended up being indefinitely postponed because of legal disputes. Somehow, this never seems to happen to movies that don’t deserve it.

Odd Thomas opens in theatres on Feb. 13 nationwide.

Trailer

The most sumptuous, sophisticated and emotionally fulfilling walk you’ll ever take through Rome, without setting foot in Italy’s magical capital, The Great Beauty more than earns its title.

Your guide will be Jep Gambardella, an aging socialite who once wrote a book so incredible, he’s been living off its success ever since. He hasn’t really been doing anything in a long time — he’s mostly living the sweet life, or as Italians call it, “la dolce vita.”

A relentless bon vivant, Gambardella throws parties at his apartment, which faces the Coliseum. Other days find him wandering the streets, reflecting on his life and experiences. Sometimes, he stops and stares intensely; the audience is then shown what he’s thinking. These are sights worth documenting. Images to make you ask yourself how a man with such a vision never wrote another novel.

You won’t be the only one to wonder; this is a question the protagonist keeps getting from his friends. He seems elusive. His answers suggest the same thing: he has no idea where all this time went. He has just celebrated his 65th birthday, which has filled him with both ennui and a sudden feeling of urgency. He no longer feels free to do things that do not bring him pleasure.

Because the film is impressionistic, conveying feelings by scenes connected thematically if not narratively, The Great Beauty is a challenge to describe. It is unconcerned with storylines, antagonists or a plot as we know it. The director takes the free flow of consciousness and musicality of a Terrence Malick film, and infuses it with Felliniesque caricatures.

The end result is spellbinding, combining spirituality with farce. In a different film, it would have been odd to see Apple products share the screen with ancient monuments. Not here. The Great Beauty is never dissonant — its strength lies in its contrasts. There is an underlying sadness to its humour, and a comicality to its sorrow.

While Toni Servillo, who plays the lead role with dignity and charm, is undeniably a strong presence, he never obstructs the way, speaks too much, or takes up too much screen time — he is there when we need him to be.

The real star, however, is Rome. The city fills you with the sort of epiphany you get from encountering art in nature that is so overwhelmingly soulful, it is at once all-encompassing and far out of reach. So all you can do is stand and look. It’s useless to try to capture the moment. You just know it’s there, and soon won’t be. Perhaps that’s what kills the Asian tourist who collapses in the film’s stunning prologue, having seemingly encountered too much beauty to handle while sightseeing.

But don’t worry, you’ll come out of The Great Beauty safe and satisfied. At 2 hours and 20 minutes, it is long, and yet the end still comes all too soon.

The film recently won the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film, and is nominated for an Oscar in the same category. The film is directed by Paolo Sorrentino (This Must Be The Place), who has made one of the finest films of 2013, and certainly the best to come out of Italy in years. Watch him closely. We may have a new great director on our hands.

The Great Beauty opens in Quebec theatres on Jan. 24.