Little Sister (Zusje) (1995)

Now who could've known a family home video would be so engrossing! While Lars Von Trier's Dogme 95 movement was underway in Denmark, Dutch filmmaker Robert Jan Westdijk was already experimenting with the handheld camera and natural setting and aesthetics for his debut feature, "Little Sister" (1995).

A camera obsessed Martijn (Romijn Conen) lands up at the doorstep of his 20 year old sister Daantje (Kim van Kooten) after several years. Daantje initially seems startled at Martijn's sudden arrival, but soon absorbs the shock, and goes on with life, with Martijn close on her heels all the time. He insists on keeping the camera on and focused on Daantje's every move, claiming he is making a movie on her. Filmed with a subjective camera, the narrative unfolds almost entirely from the point of view of Martijn. Thereby, "Little Sister" practically becomes the movie that Martijn is filming, even with title credits in the beginning attributed to Martijn and Daantje!

Time passes, and the loving brother-sister banter enters darker territory. The whole fixation on Daantje begins to shape into an uncomfortable, voyeuristic gaze, especially when some flashbacks, also conveyed by way of old family home videos, hint at a possible incestuous fling between the siblings.

Thanks to a strong premise, a crisp narrative and fluid editing, "Little Sister" rises above the experimental nature of it and provides for a wholly absorbing film experience. We are taken up, close and personal with Daantje, with Kim van Kooten occupying almost every frame. No complaints there, for she is arguably one of the most gorgeous women to ever grace celluloid. Only the feeling that we are looking at her through Martijn's eyes, somewhat creeps us out!

Although a little obfuscated about her brother's visit, Daantje initially takes all the camera craze in her stride. She doesn't seem to mind all the attention and is hardly camera conscious. Martijn, and hence, the camera follows Daantje everywhere, capturing everything, even on outings with her best friend. Gradually, the encroachment on her privacy seems to become a matter of concern, when Martijn begins to overstay his welcome, especially when Daantje's goofy boyfriend Ramon (Roeland Fernhout) arrives and feels uncomfortable with big brother around.

In an awesome display of restraint and mature character handling, Daantje however, exhibits mixed reactions. It is not clear whether she really wants her brother out or in. There is always an awkward sense of tension palpable between the siblings, even though we don't really see Martijn's face for the most part. Much of the conveying is done through Daantje's nuanced expressions and their exchange of words. Her mixed feelings about her brother's presence make a lot more sense later when the fog begins to clear to reveal the true nature of their relationship and what really transpired in the past. It is clearly a memory that Daantje wants to repress, while for some reason Martijn makes periodic attempts to remind her of it. Is it Martijn's sickness that is making him stir up the episode again? Or is there another side to it and Daantje doesn't want to remember?

Everything is balanced on a neatly ambiguous thread, while more twists and turns appear in adequate measures. Power shifts occur, control is transferred, perceptions are created, and then thwarted as the film proceeds towards a finale that is confounding as well as creepy. And while it doesn't answer everything in black and white, it surely shakes the foundation of our judgment thus far. One seemingly non-serious comment that Martijn keeps throwing about, also falls into place in a freaky way.

What's commendable is, despite some of the shocking, revolting elements of the story, much of the mood maintained is quite buoyant, especially with some comical moments revolving around Ramon. What happens on screen isn't exactly pleasant; a childhood innocence is lost, a brother-sister bond loses its way. Some of the happenings on screen are downright offensive, but astonishingly, nothing appears or gets really ugly in any way. You don't really walk out with a repulsed feeling.

"Little Sister" is a compelling watch that demands your attention. This is low-budget indie cinema at its finest. Forget those horror found footage films; this is the closest that fiction can get to reality.


Score: 9/10

De Poolse Bruid (The Polish Bride) (1998)

It isn't like we haven't seen many films of this kind before, but "The Polish Bride" still feels as refreshing as newly tilled soil. Maybe it is the hypnotic beauty of the Dutch countryside that is so poetically captured on camera, it is difficult not to be mesmerized and swept away by its sheer ethereal nature. Or maybe it is the very alluring depiction of a carefree life of isolation in the scenic, flat lands that makes you want to live that life even if for a short while.

Only all that comes a few minutes into the film in a striking contrast of sorts when it comes to changing backdrops in cinema. A startling opening sequence reveals a bloodied young woman running from something or someone in the urban streets. It isn't clear how far she runs, but she finds herself collapsing near the isolated farm land of a solitary farmer.

The farmer is Henk (Jaap Spijkers), a loner, possibly in his 40s, quite unaffected in his mannerisms and appears to live like a robot, religiously taking care of his ancestral property. The woman is Anna (Monic Hendrickx) who seems to have escaped from some place of immense suffering, but it is unclear exactly what, although some dream sequences while still reeling under the shock and fatigue of her great escape, hint at a possible forced prostitution and rape.

Henk takes Anna in, washes her, gives her place to rest and food to eat, but does not demand any kind of explanation. She doesn't offer any either, not necessarily because of reluctance of any kind but because they speak different languages. While he is Dutch, she is Polish. Regardless of the language barrier, Henk doesn't appear to be one to pry, and lets her be, just assuming she is some woman who may have been saved from a great deal of trouble.

Everything seems to have been accepted as it is. Finally when Anna has regained her composure, she offers (in her broken Dutch), albeit with an alarming alacrity, to help out as a cleaning lady in the house and stay on. Perhaps it is because she feels secure, considering no matter how gruff on the surface, Henk never makes advances on her, so she instantly trusts him. Henk appears grumpy upon hearing this proposal, but does not resist. His comfort zone has been disturbed slightly, and hence the reaction, perhaps, but he doesn't have the heart to ask her to go and is possibly secretly happy that his lonesome life will finally spice up with some much needed female company. The two continue to cohabit without speaking a word except exchanging some essential communication through her broken Dutch, learning word by word from her dictionary which Henk buys for her!

A mechanical existence continues with Anna helping out, him working his land, and both finally sharing a meal and retiring to bed in their respective rooms. This strange mutual understanding predictably begins to blossom into a more organic bond, when Anna's past knocks on their door, threatening to create ripples in the calm waters of their existence.

 

However, Karim Traïdia isn't really interested in answering questions about Anna's past, or making a mystery story out of the secret life of Anna. He is more interested in showcasing a unique attachment formed by accident, one that goes on to become strong and inseparable without much being communicated through words between the pair. The entire running time mostly focuses on the gradual fructification of this connection. Any formulaic development is cleverly tossed out the window, and even as you expect Henk to confront Anna regarding her history at some point of time, nary a word is discussed about where she came from, and what she was running from. In a sparsely populated land such as Groningen where the film is set, loneliness can really get to you and in such a circumstance it isn't entirely unconvincing if one quickly gels with a single human connect that comes across. In the process of the development of their bond, Traïdia in his deliberately paced screenplay, takes us through the inherent monotony of the lives of the farmers. 

Anna soon joins Henk on his farming routines. Both of them rest in the serenity and chomp away on their apples, the crunch of which is audibly loud in the serene silence of the fields. All credit to the remarkable sound design of course, which, for most of the film comprises of diegetic sounds, but also gives way to somber melancholic background scores at intervals. There is a lyrical quality in the way the scenery in the farm and the far off horizon is shot. It evokes an otherworldly feeling of peace and almost puts you in a meditative mood.

Even if one may feel that the storyline goes nowhere, the facet that is particularly well done and endearing to behold is the way Anna slowly starts behaving like Henk's wife, even bossing him around, forbidding him to do anything before a shower upon his return home, and insisting that he pray before he partakes of the meal she very earnestly cooks for him. While Henk continues to huff with Anna's display of authority over his life, he is obviously bowled over from inside. The feeling that for once, someone is being caring and lovingly commanding; affectionately teaching him manners and etiquettes is palpable beneath that unfriendly exterior. Once in a while, they make trips to town for shopping. It gives Anna delight and Henk experiences a newfound joy in Anna's company as she buys nice shirts for him. The progression of the story is in fact the progression of their relationship with a majority of the proceedings being devoid of dialog. There's some subtle humour in these tender moments that bring a smile to your face.

Monic Hendrickx's winning performance is one of the major strengths of the film. It is a spectacularly nuanced act, with every tiny movement of her facial muscles conveying a range of emotions. Be it that mischievous smile, the questioning look, the inability to communicate, the little joys and sorrows, all so effortless and discernible, it is a splendid act all the way. She is well supported by Jaap Spijkers as the initially emotionless farmer who is required to stay deadpan for the most part of the film, until Hendrickx's character begins to transform him and he becomes more human. It is a mighty convincing transformation at that.

This is particularly evident in the aftermath of the denouement that takes you by surprise. In the dead calm of the state of affairs you don't really expect things to get so far. However, it is the way this ending unfolds that slightly disappoints rather than the actual events, and yet it does not take away from the experience of the preceding 80 odd minutes. Give "The Polish Bride" a chance. It is a well-crafted, little-known gem that is in great need of attention.

Score: 9/10

Borgman (2013)

This disturbing little Dutch sleeper creeps up quite surreptitiously and affects your mind to numbing effects much like the eponymous lead character of this flabbergasting film does to his hapless victims.

In a rather strange and almost surreal opening sequence we see a bearded vagrant by the name of Camiel Borgman (Jan Bijvoet) being hunted and chased out of his underground lair by two men, a dog and a priest with a shotgun! There are a couple more drifters as we find out. 

Obviously there is an answer to why the priest is hunting Camiel down, but director Alex Van Warmerdam is a sly genius who will never give you straight answers to this shocking beginning. He will only start unleashing his series of clues, as the main plot unfolds when Camiel escapes from the dense woods into a nice bourgeois locality, like a beast thrown out from his comfort zone, and into the urban lands. 

Much like any home invasion film, a la Michael Haneke's sadistic "Funny Games" (1997), this rather smooth-talking wanderer gains entry into the home of the beautiful Marina (Hadewych Minis) and her TV producer husband Richard (Jeroen Perceval). Marina seems to empathize with Borgman from the word go and offers him a chance to bathe, gives him food and shelter for a while after her husband showers violent blows on him, but only to protect her honour, no less! 

Little does anyone know, though, that this one gesture of kindliness is only the first nail in the coffin for this nice looking upper class family with three beautiful children, and that their guest has no intentions of leaving. He has a sinister masterplan up his sleeve to weave a deadly web and irreversibly impact their lives psychologically. By this point, some readers may think this is Alex Van Warmerdam's rendition of "Teorema", that excellent 1968 Pier Paolo Pasolini film. But well, prepare to be surprised, and find out that this is not a rip off by a long shot, as the story takes unpredictable turns and in fact has you on the edge about not only what would happen next, but also have you screaming out loud "What on earth is really happening?" 

"Borgman" (2013) is as original as they come and it is here to cement its status as a new cult thriller that subtly fuses the classic aesthetic of European art-house minimalism with more extreme genres like psychological dramas and supernatural elements. Yet what is served in the end is an allegorical mind-bender that has its roots in Christian mythology!

There are chances that initially the viewer may be taken quite aback regarding the happenings on screen. The first half an hour may simply seem indigestible to some much like earlier home invasion films. But then the plot thickens and nothing seems as ordinary as on the surface. There are dreams and nightmares that seem all too real.

There appears to be some kind of psychological manipulation leading to mood swings and hostility. And before we know it, an 'X' marks a spot almost miraculously! No spoilers, but there are indeed forces other than the real and tangible ones at work here, when the mysterious, mangy stray dogs appear, much to our amazement. There also appears to be some sort of chemical treatment at work.

If all of this sounds utterly vague, then it is just as well. That is a bit part of what you are in for, as normal events take turns that lead to almost unreal events. It makes little sense as to Borgman's motivations and his sense of purpose. But underneath this complex exterior is yet another attack on the upper class ego and an arrogance that is born out of the affluent lifestyle. Pride cometh before a fall they say, and this proverb would fit very well within the context of the film. But the distinction between good and evil is blurred here, given the aforementioned mythological angle.

So those well versed with the religious texts can immediately read into the names and connect with the more larger themes, bolstered by the biblical quote in the beginning "And they descended upon the earth to strengthen their ranks". So could "Borgman" be an allegory of Camael, one of the seven archangels who supposedly led the forces that expelled Adam and Eve from the garden of Eden (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camael)? The point in question not entirely farfetched, for Camiel is later appointed as a gardener with the family in their plush abode (a symbolic garden of Eden)! Coincidence? Perhaps, depending on how you look at it.

And therein lies one of the key aspects that make "Borgman" a marvelous cinematic puzzle-box and a true winner; the inherent ambiguity of it all. The viewer only gets to see bits and pieces of what actually happens. There are no clear answers. But clues are thrown about in a manner that would give way to multiple interpretations. It is up to the viewers to discern in a way that fits their sense of reasoning.

For an ambitious film that boasts of such an intriguing and complex plot, Warmerdam exercises tremendous restraint and refrains from making a big hullabaloo about anything at all. It ends as calmly as it starts but the audiences are left with anything but a sense of calm, for they are subjected to something so downright challenging, it is difficult to not have your brain cells rapidly stimulated in trying to work out what just happened to you through this cinematic offering.

"Borgman" is a masterpiece; a brilliantly acted, bone-chilling, haunting piece of cinema that is bold, disturbing and ultimately rewarding yet has been criminally overlooked in the recent lot of European cinema. It really needs to come out in the open. Do yourself a favour and watch this film! Now!


Score: 10/10