The Duke of Burgundy (2014)

British filmmaker Peter Strickland, who left us wanting more with the excellent "Berberian Sound Studio" (2012) returns with his highly anticipated new film. In this reinvention of sorts, Strickland dabbles with material usually found in lowbrow underground sexploitation cinema and translates it to more refined cinema by adding plenty of art-house polish to it. "The Duke of Burgundy" (2014) is an atypical Gothic romance that explores an aberrant relationship between two women, with strikingly deviant ideas of intimacy, based on bondage and discipline, and rife with lurid fetishism.

Oh no, this is no "Fifty Shades of Grey", that god-awful watered down romantic chick flick with zero depth, posing as an erotic drama. Strickland's film is serious cinema, a mature product, oozing oodles of sensuality and he doesn't even need any explicit on-screen sex or nudity to deliver potent erotica.

Strickland transports us right into the world of a Gothic ghost story. A solitary castle-like mansion surrounded by woods and streams is the center of all the action. A beautiful, 40-something lepidopterist, Cynthia (Sidse Babett Knudsen) resides there alone, with her enormous collection of pinned moths and butterflies. She has an odd looking maid by the name of Evelyn (Chiara D'Anna). Evelyn has a queer stare most of the times, sometimes unaffected, and other times meek and curious. If Evelyn makes a mistake she is punished in a sexually domineering way, sometimes in kinkier ways, perhaps involving urolagnia! It is soon revealed, that the two women are in fact lovers, indulging in this kind of servant-master role-playing, for kicks, as a means of gratification. The rest of the film examines the shifting dynamics and co-dependencies in this strange bond, as its limits are tested and the dominant and the submissive appear to switch places.

Like his earlier films, "Duke.." is inherently a mood piece, a visual and aural feast, employing all of the oneiric aesthetics, thereby rendering a hypnotic quality to it. Right from the title credits, accompanying a haunting song by Cat's Eyes, Strickland gives us a glimpse of the quirks to come. Credits like "Perfume by:..." and "Dress and Lingerie by:..." bring a smile of curious delight and it becomes clear, that the ride isn't going to be entirely straightforward. 

The world in the film is unreal, albeit not entirely unrealistic like an elaborate fantasy world. This could be more like a scene from an idyllic dream or a nightmare of loneliness, depending on how you look at it. All those gorgeously captured frames, give off the vibe of a Gothic ghost story, as mentioned before, especially in the scenes indoor in the dark, with all the baroque interiors and furniture. The score and sound design isn't as meticulous and noteworthy as in "Berberian Sound Studio" but it still exists as an essential part of the package.

A largely striking aspect of Strickland's world is the lack of men. There's not a single male person to be found in the narrative dominated entirely by an all-female cast. Adding an absurdly surreal touch to the proceedings is the conspicuous presence of mannequins sitting in an audience in the Lepidopterology seminars.

These seminars and gatherings and one single scene with a carpenter are perhaps the only instances when we see more characters on screen. All of the other times, the focus and our attention is directed towards the two leading ladies. The study of the insects serves as a major parallel to the story if we take into consideration their life cycle progression. Much like these women are studying the species under a microscope, we are given front row seats with 3D glasses, and made to witness the development of this strangely intriguing relationship between the women. 

The exchanges between the two range from sweet to downright brazen to the level of discomfort. A palpable, irresistible force is at play. Strickland keeps most of the kinky action off-screen, thereby playing mischief with the viewer and poking his/her voyeuristic tendencies, much like how only bits and parts of Cynthia's comely physique are visible to a curious Evelyn as she peeps through the keyhole! Given that their relationship involves rituals or role playing to satiate, most activities are repeated and recur throughout the film, like a daily cycle. This furthers the intrigue by giving the narrative the form of a recurring dream. The theme of ritualistic repetition that is an important part of their existence, mirrors the repeating life cycle of the moths and butterflies. It is no surprise that "The Duke of Burgundy" is a title derived from a rare butterfly species, Hamearis lucina. 

There are several scenes filmed through mirrors or glasses, showcasing distorted or multiple reflections perhaps hinting at the characters' mental distortions and twisted fantasies. At one point, the camera longingly scans Cynthia's outfit from the bottom to the top as Evelyn, on her knees, caresses her, real slowly. Cynthia's torso in this outfit strangely resembles the back of a moth. Such slow, lingering shots are aplenty in the film, kind of like a visual meditation. The camera sometimes gazes at multicoloured soap bubbles and gives them time to pop before our eyes. It also pans across similarly diversely coloured panties strung out to dry, pretty much like the series of butterflies of various colours pinned into exhibits in Cynthia's study.

Role-playing and the desire for surprises by one partner makes it ambiguous as to what is enacted and what is real. It is also a matter of debate as to how much is real and how much imagined. We often hear words and whispers that don't appear to be part of a first-hand dialog. Could they be voices in someone's head? Evelyn is also often seen with a steady gaze at the camera, perhaps an indication that she drifts off into daydreams. In one superlative scene of hallucinatory brilliance, Strickland makes it clear that at least some part is imagined as the camera slowly zooms in and out of the dark recesses between a woman's legs. 

On paper, the plot of "The Duke of Burgundy" may seem thin. But there is no denying that this is one exquisitely crafted romantic psychodrama that offers a lot to ponder on. Evoking memories of some of Luis Bunuel's best films, especially "That Obscure Object of Desire" (1977) and even Joseph Losey's "The Servant" (1963), "Duke.." is not all style and eccentricities. There is a lot more at the core. At the heart of all the fantasies and the fetishes is a strong desire that borders on obsession. The women's love for each other almost rivals their love for the butterflies; an obsessive love that is best expressed only through physical bondage; the butterflies are pinned, and partners are tied and locked up in caskets.


Score: 9/10

The Uninvited Guest (El Habitante Incierto) (2004)

And so we stumble upon yet another less known Spanish gem of a mystery thriller; one that, from its title may give off the air of your average home invasion story. But rest assured, any similarity to past home invasion flicks ends after the stranger enters the house. Thereupon, Guillem Morales' "The Uninvited Guest" (2004) is one hell of an unpredictable ride into its twisty narrative that will suspend you in a state of constant anxiety.

It all begins one fateful evening, when a man whose face we do not see, enters the plush home of Felix (Andoni Gracia) on the pretext of making an urgent phone call. Felix is living alone ever since his girlfriend Vera (Mónica López) breaks up with him. The stranger requests privacy as he attempts to make the call, and Felix obliges. As the call appears to stretch longer, an impatient Felix returns to the living room to find the stranger missing and the door shut. An inherently paranoid Felix begins to believe that the stranger never left, and is still inside the house, inhabiting it in secret, hiding from plain sight! His fears begin to magnify as he starts to experience sporadic occurrences of strange noises from some corners of the house.

Guillem Morales turns the familiar home invasion genre on its head by making the supposed perpetrator disappear early in the film. Thereby, the stranger isn't physically present in sight, but makes his presence felt; invisible, but tangible enough to mess with the protagonist's psyche, making him restless and giving him sleepless nights. An occurrence such as this, makes way for several questions that give the film its greatest strength. Is there really a presence in the house? Or is Felix just obsessed with the idea, unsatisfied that he never actually saw the stranger leave?

It is common knowledge, that the mind plays tricks, especially when one is alone in a large house. A sound heard quite close by could actually be an amplified version of something far away or in the opposite corner. Sometimes it's the plumbing, and other times, the hollow areas in the construction. Sometimes it is the neighbours upstairs moving their furniture, and when there's a sudden thud, it is only natural to check to see if something fell in the adjacent room. Likewise there are visual false alarms; a shadow here, a reflection there. Foreign presence? Or figment of imagination? 

Morales' play on the matter from a psychological perspective is brilliant and wholly believable considering Felix's personality and the condition of his nerves. But just as we wonder where this would head or how Felix would get out of this situation, another huge surprise is thrown in the unsuspecting viewer's lap as Felix practically walks the footsteps of the invisible stranger in another situation that mirrors his! It's an amazing example of a circular narrative, the kind attempted by the modern master of surreal psychological thrillers, David Lynch. Through these unforeseen events, a lot is revealed about the inner workings of the minds of some of the primary characters, their basest instincts, and morbid ideas of thrills. It is like the whole range of the shades usually associated with an archetypal psychological thriller are explored within a single narrative.

A predominant theme in the film is that of duality. There are recurring events, and sometimes there are shadows of certain occurrences. Events mirror themselves or follow in succession. There's even a doppelganger of one character thrown in. Mónica López plays two characters, Vera and Claudia. This brings to mind the Patricia Arquette dual role in Lynch's "Lost Highway" (1997). It is possible that the purpose of casting the same actress to play these characters is to accentuate the psychological aspect of the story. This doubling up along with the fact that we are perhaps dealing with an unreliable narrator, and the claustrophobic elements associated with an indoors setting, a la Hitchcock, make "The Uninvited Guest" a very interesting mash-up of Lynchian and Hitchcockian ideas.

The result is satisfying enough to keep the viewer enthralled and sufficiently breathless throughout, until some cats are let out of the bag. It is true, that some big revelations give rise to more questions. There is one instance of a gaping contrivance which didn't go down too well with this reviewer either, but it was a necessary evil for Morales to further the plot and compound the intrigue. Not that Morales gets excused, he does lose a point for it, but it isn't any cause for alarm and doesn't reduce the weight of the film to an extent to disappoint the viewer. Moreover, some of the withheld information works in the film's favour, thereby leaving certain bits to interpretation. It's a good move by Morales to not wrap just about everything up in a neat package, which perhaps, would've done the film some disservice.

Credit must be given where it is due, and there is no denying that Guillem Morales has delivered a highly original feature length debut that is brimming with confidence and his command on the craft shows. Well done!

Score: 8/10

Sleep Tight (Mientras Duermes) (2011)

Spanish filmmaker Jaume Balagueró, the helmer of such horror films as the excellent Rec (2007) and the hilariously bad Fragile (2005), dabbles with the voyeur thriller genre this time around and proves that with the right material he can pull off a reasonably taut and disturbing nail-biter.

"Sleep Tight" (2011) is as dark as they come. A creepy-looking, balding and thick-browed Cesar (Luis Tosar) is popular with the occupants of the apartment building where he works as a concierge. He is the ultimate helping hand, the friendly neighbourhood fixer, who would tend to the nice old lady's dogs, fix clogged drain pipes, water plants, and deliver mails among other things. With his convenient presence, he has won over most of the tenants.

But little do they know that there is sickness brewing within and Cesar is really up to no good. Behind those kind gestures is a psychopathic mind at work, out to make life miserable for others, for Cesar is a depressed loner who doesn't know what it is like to be happy. Misusing their trust, he is quietly executing his malicious little plan of creating trouble for the tenants. 

His prime target is the comely young Clara (Marta Etura), who is blissfully unaware that Cesar actually enters her apartment each night, and engages in subtle mischief, including spiking her cosmetics with irritants and even going so far as to molest her as she sleeps, after administering chloroform on her! Life goes on, Clara wakes up all groggy, not realizing why she oversleeps. And in the meanwhile, Cesar is also sending her anonymous hate mail, sometimes with lewd content.

Cesar's malevolent mission appears to develop cracks when the preteen girl Ursula (Iris Almeida) who is on to his sickening deeds raises her price for keeping her mouth shut, and Clara's boyfriend Marcos (Alberto San Juan) gives them a surprise visit.

Balagueró is in assured form here and maintains a firm grip on the material. The casting of Luis Tosar is perfect, in the sense, his very appearance makes us sense something creepy and sinister lurking beneath that smiling exterior. While Tosar's assumed gentlemanly mannerisms exude a kind of warmth, he follows it up quickly by a nuanced change of expression that would make you loathe the guy! 

At various junctures, Cesar's voiceover narrates his worthless state of being, and the desire to give meaning to his life. He regularly visits his old mother who appears to have lost her speech, and updates her about his developments. This is a welcome move, for it adds some kind of mystery to Cesar's motivations. Apart from his obvious pathological state of mind, one can't help but think of a class conflict angle, a la Claude Chabrol's "La Ceremonie" (1995), although this can only be inferred.

In many ways, Cesar's character and the film itself, brings to mind Hitchcock's famous "Psycho" (1960). And why not, considering there's a caretaker/concierge with voyeuristic tendencies, and even an old mother that's mostly there to mystify! In fact, "Sleep Tight" has Hitchcockian written all over it. Balagueró manages to build and keep the tension intact, with an interesting character, and an unsettling, claustrophobic atmosphere of an apartment building. What adds to the scare element considerably, is the fact that the most trusted man, the caretaker, the protector, is actually an antagonist, a trope used to a great effect in Kubrick's "The Shining" (1980). 

Unlike Kubrick's classic however, in an amazing twist to the proceedings, much to our surprise, Balagueró successfully manoeuvres us into rooting for Cesar when he is danger of being caught red-handed. It's a masterstroke that actually makes us skip a beat for a guy who disgusts us for most of the film! The suspense is killing in the said scene and it's a sequence very deftly handled, hardly insulting the viewer's intelligence, as is the case in most such situations.

It's a pity however, that in an attempt to manipulate the script to darker territories, Balagueró and crew resort to the stupid person syndrome; that age old cliché in which there's always at least one character who has to behave in a manner so dumb, as to invite obvious harm. Thankfully there aren't too many such moves and distraction is provided in the form of an ultraviolent, blood-soaked final half hour, complete with a tub and shower, again, reminding of "Psycho" (1960). It is the kind of stuff that will please the gorehounds and disturb the hell out of the squeamish.

It would've been better, had the film not entered slightly melodramatic territories in the culmination, but everything that precedes it successfully keeps us engrossed and thrilled. Balagueró also makes us aware and provides food for thought, albeit in a rather harsh way, about the sad reality of those who are lonely and aging. As Cesar puts it quite bluntly to an old lady in a chilling fashion: "There's no remedy for it"!

Obviously inspired by the Hitchcock brand of suspense, "Sleep Tight" is a terrific psychological thriller well worth your time for its absorbing screenplay and a cracker of a lead performance. 

Score: 8/10

Kanal (1957)

Films depicting the horrors of war are aplenty. Some take us right into the battlefield and make us witness the rigours faced by the soldiers in battle. Then there are others that focus on the plight of civilians during an ongoing war. There are also a few others that paint a disturbing picture of the aftermath of war, and its effects on both, the soldiers as well as the civilians. Many of these films either showcase only the carnage with liberal doses of violence, keeping the characters at a good distance, or make us feel at home with the characters, intermittently shifting focus to the killing and mayhem.

Polish filmmaker Andrzej Wajda accomplishes a rare feat with a film that clocks to only about 95 minutes. He gives us a fully fleshed out product that not only makes us well acquainted with its ensemble of characters as individually recognizable and relatable people, but also takes us right in the middle of all the pandemonium, making us feel the bombs, the guns, the madness and in this case, waist-deep grime of a sewer!

The year is 1944, and the Warsaw uprising is nearing its end. A small company of 43 surviving members of the Home Army resistance fighters comprising of soldiers as well as civilians led by Lt. Zadra (Wienczyslaw Glinski) find a new position in the remains of a half destroyed bourgeois house in an abandoned territory. The German army is on the warpath, capturing most of the land and marching on ahead, bombing and evacuating almost all Polish territories. The company has an eclectic bunch of fighters, males and females of different age groups and aspirations. Some act as messengers and helpers, others as the fighting frontmen, and they even have the wide-eyed passionate music composer Michal (Vladek Sheybal) among them.

"Kanal" tells the harrowing tale of the struggle of these brave people, to survive the brutal onslaught of the Nazis, especially of their last-ditch attempt to retreat downtown, through long underground sewers when they are surrounded and all hope seems lost. Only the task isn't going to be an easy one, as it becomes clear once the wading through the muck commences.

Wajda wastes no time and takes us right into the action, by announcing that what would follow is the chronicling of the final hours of this company of the resistance members. He keeps it compact and fleeting but never once does anything feel inadequate in Jerzy Stefan Stawiński's screenplay that covers practically all the facets and sentiments associated with a situation such as this. It is a chilling moment when an already desensitized Michal makes that final call to his house in the nick of time before we hear his wife say that the Germans are coming to get them and the line gets disconnected. Some others steal amorous moments and have a little party before the imminent doom.

It is heartening to see that almost all of them are ready and know that they may die soon, and yet, find some light moments to laugh about in the face of adversity, just as the music composer finds a piano and starts smashing some tunes to ease the moment. It isn't long before we find ourselves in the midst of smouldering rubble as the attack catches the party unawares when some of them are catching up on some rest and others trying hard to find a drop of water to shave!

The journey through the sewers is the toughest ordeal the company has to go through. Apart from plodding through endlessly long stretches of human waste, they have to save themselves from the surprise attack of poisonous gas released by the Germans in the sewers to either kill the escapees or bring them out of hiding! The script at this juncture is dripping with pure genius, as Wajda and Stawiński add some clever humour in small doses that accentuates the fearlessness of the group. Take for instance the scene when Michal the composer just commences what could be his final journey through the sewers and exclaims how amazing the acoustics were, down there! There's a good dose of such fleeting gallows humour in the face of certain death in the form of crackling dialog, enough to garner applause for the inspiring bravado on display.

Such elements in a film sometimes attract criticism for being unrealistic, but considering that the script has been helmed by a man who was himself part of a resistance operation and survived in the sewers, his credibility can hardly be doubted. Much like the initial display of courage is entirely believable, so is the gradual draining of enthusiasm. As the gas fumes begin to destroy the troops in body and spirit, their hopes begin to dwindle and so does their frame of mind. Differing mindsets and conflicting opinions regarding the code of honour and general ethics result in deception and animosity. It is an accurate depiction of fear, madness and a decline of morals.

While the writing shimmers with intelligence and well-timed twists, Wajda's visual portrayal of it shines in the darkness, literally! The first half gives us a tour of the dusty ruins on the exterior, and the entire second half practically takes place in the dark sewers. It gives the director ample opportunity to show off some fine chiaroscuro lighting effects and an effectively eerie use of shadows. The underground passage is unknown to most, much like their fate. The surprise gas attack adds to the chaos. Wajda taps this setting extremely well to create a hellish, surreal atmosphere; a seemingly endless, Kafkaesque tunnel of no escape. The resulting sense of confusion and hysteria that prevails, is aptly demonstrated by the filmmaker. He owes a lot to his actors as well, who seem to lose themselves in their characters, making you feel their predicament.

"Kanal" is a tragic, disturbing masterpiece of Polish cinema, one that is so powerful that you might feel the need to play something cheerful post the film to lighten up the mood.


Score: 10/10