There’s something about basements that is inherently ominous, mysterious, and—in a way—dangerous. Generally a section of a person’s home that is off-limits to those who do not live there, basements are used to house almost anything, especially anything considered taboo. Director Ulrich Seidl’s documentary In the Basement ventures into these private quarters to discover that sometimes our imagination is stranger than reality.

A pre-credits still-shot finds a man meticulously watching his pet python stalk its prey inside of a large tank. Seidl holds the shot for an uncomfortable amount of time, given that it is completely obvious what’s about to happen. As soon as the reptilian beast strikes, the title card appears, preparing viewers for a creepy journey into the underbelly of the average person’s home. Maintaining the structure of still shots of middle-aged to elderly folks sitting in their basements—sometimes in complete silence, sometimes blabbering about their interests—Seidl stays constant, which sadly ends up being the biggest downfall of the film. The unflinching stillness of the onscreen imagery becomes increasingly dull as In the Basement progresses, especially during the scenes that are bereft of dialogue. Entire sequences pass without anything particularly entertaining, informative, or otherwise worth watching occurring, and the results are downright boring. Seidl always seems on the verge of redeeming himself by showcasing another quirky character with a peculiar basement, but the moments between lack the craziness the film’s opening sequence promised.

Unfortunately, what Seidl seems to discover through his journey is that the things most people keep in their basements are mundane, uninteresting, and not especially effective subjects for a documentary. Perhaps there are people in the world who find things like shooting ranges, workout equipment, and mounted animals to be completely shocking, but these subjects are too vanilla to hold the attention of the average filmgoer. Thankfully, there are a few outliers in the film whose basements truly are unsettling. Most notably is an elderly woman who keeps realistic dolls in boxes and coddles them as if they were her own, live children. Her behavior is sincere which makes the entire sequence truly unnerving. It’s like something out of a horror film but makes a long monologue about a man’s hunting trophies seem all the more dull in comparison. Perhaps it is Seidl’s intention to provide a strong contrast from person to person, but it doesn’t work in upping the film’s overall entertainment value. It’s unclear what the filmmaker is trying to say here—if anything at all. There’s no substantial resolution; merely evidence that different people have different things in their basement.

After a long scene listening to an elderly man discuss his love of playing music—and even suffering through some of his brass instrumentals—the camera follows him deeper into his basement, where he proudly displays a collection of frightening memorabilia. It’s a stunning reveal that comes out of nowhere and leaves a lasting impression as a result. These are the kinds of moments that make In the Basement worth watching, and it’s a shame that there aren’t more of them during the film’s 85-minute running time.

One of the final moments of In the Basement shows a man who could feasibly pass as George “The Animal” Steele’s doppelgänger being subjected to some form of genital torture by a dominatrix. It’s an unpleasant scene that goes on for far too long. That really sums up the film as a whole. Some of the discoveries are truly bizarre, and undeniably captivating at first glance, but after hanging onto them for minutes at a time, the attraction is simply lost. In the Basement is filled with fascinating characters, but it never comes together cohesively, and in the end, would’ve probably worked better as a series of documentary shorts than a feature film.

Austrian filmmakers Veronika Franz (wife of auteur Ulrich Seidl) and Severin Fiala first present Goodnight Mommy as a mystery with a horror film premise–two nine-year-old twin brothers question their mother’s identity after a facial surgery leaves most of her face covered with bandages. The boys notice their mother acting out of the ordinary, she never shows them any affection and seems to favor one brother over the other. Though to be fair, the mother was never shown before the surgery, so it’s hard to say how much she has changed. The first two acts of the film keeps things ambitious, never knowing if the mom is really someone else or if the kids are right. Goodnight Mommy escalates into the torture film variety in the last act, making the film difficult to stomach when it switches from psychological suspense to physical horror.

Goodnight Mommy is a promising start for this Austrian duo, who take us to haunting places using shock value and atmospheric visuals. Though the film works best when its carefully manipulating the audience’s emotions and suspicions. A twist near the end will either come as a welcoming surprise or a cheap trick, but either way it’s not quite enough to compensate for the excessive and disturbing violence.

The last installment of the Paradise trilogy is Ulrich Seidl’s Paradise: Hope, a coming-of-age film about a teenage girl who develops a crush on a doctor at a camp for overweight teens. Although this film is by far Seidl’s least daring and challenging film of the series (and his career for that matter), there is still a lot to admire about it. Considering the trilogy portrays the dark side of our basic human desire for an unattainable paradise, this film offers the slightest bit a hope to conclude an otherwise somber series of films.

13-year-old Melanie (Melanie Lenz) is dropped off at a summer camp for overweight teens by her aunt Anna Maria (the obsessed religious lead from Paradise: Faith). Immediately upon arrival Melanie makes friends with the three girls that she shares a room with. It is not all that surprising that the first secret the newly formed group share with each other are candy bars that one of the girls snuck into the camp. As the girls spend more time together the conversations become more intimate; shifting from dishing about their parents to gossiping about sexual encounters. At the same time her mother Teresa is off seeking love as a tourist in Kenya (as seen in Paradise: Love), Melanie is searching for her own first love at the diet camp.

It becomes quite obvious that Melanie is falling for the middle-aged camp doctor (Joseph Lorenz) when he first examines her and she jumps at the opportunity to listen to his heartbeat. Each day she continues to fake symptoms in order to see him. You can practically hear her heart eagerly pounding as her crush on him continues to grow exponentially. But behind the doctor’s smile and frisky playfulness you get a sense that the feelings are more mutual than they should be.

Teenage love for someone who is older is not all that uncommon and is innocent enough, but given that this is a film by the provocative Ulrich Seidl, you come to expect that not everything in Paradise: Hope would be playful and innocent. But this is where Seidl throws his usual twist into the mix. While there are certainly hints that the doctor shares the same sexual interests as the young girl, he surprisingly never acts on them. As with his previous films, there are some uncomfortable situations that turn disturbing, however, instead of forcing the audience to actually witness such explicit scenes the filmmaker merely implies the vexing circumstances could exist.

The overall theme found throughout Paradise: Hope is discipline. The most obvious instance of this is near the beginning when the counselor makes everyone shout the word ‘discipline’ and tells them it is the only thing that will get them into shape. There are several other occurrences of discipline shown like when punishment is handed out after the girls disobey the rules of the camp. But less apparent usage of discipline is presented when the doctor’s willpower overcomes his desire to engage with Melanie. The film itself practices what it preaches by restraining what is actually shown on screen and what it implies.

Paradise: Hope does not have the same level of exploration in exploitation as the other two films in the trilogy. That makes this film feel a bit disconnected from the series, but consequently makes for Seidl’s most accessible film to date. Yet the irony here is that Seidl’s most straightforward film plot wise is also the one that is the least blunt in showing its intentions. Still, it all comes together when you put the film in the context of the overall theme of the Paradise series, which is a dark portrayal of the human desire to achieve paradise on earth.

Paradise: Hope trailer:

Almost immediately after I saw Paradise: Love at the Chicago International Film Festival last year I knew it would land towards the top of my favorite films of the year. Paradise: Love is an exploitation film where neither paradise nor love is actually found, only sought after. At that time it was my first Ulrich Seidl film and I had no idea that it was just the first part of the Paradise trilogy. Needless to say, I was impatiently waiting for the next two films as soon as soon as I found out about the series.

Paradise: Faith, the second installment of the Paradise trilogy, starts off with Anna Maria (Maria Hofstätter) entering a room to pray in front of the cross on the wall for Jesus to forgive her for being unchaste. She proclaims that so many people are obsessed with sex. This is interesting and important because Anna is sisters with Teresa, the love-seeking escapist who essentially turns into an obsessive sex tourist in Paradise: Love.

Instead of traveling to a foreign country while on vacation, as her sister did, Anna stays close to home for her to practice her own missionary style of work by spreading the word of Catholicism to others. As you might expect, going door-to-door asking people to let her in with a small statue of the Virgin Mary in her arms, yields mixed results. But she does not let the unsuccessful attempts bring her down because Anna is completely devoted to help make Austria Catholic again.

The film takes a drastic turn when her husband Nabil (Nabil Saleh) shows up unannounced at her home after a two-year hiatus. Crippled from an accident that led Anna to start believing again, Nabil returns to a much different wife who dedicates most of her time to her religious practices rather than taking care of him. Her controlling beliefs upset him to the point where he begins to tear down the plethora of Jesus photos that hang in just about every room of the house. Anna considers this whole situation to be a test of faith from Jesus, but finds it increasingly difficult to forgive those around her as she often preaches onto others.

Trademarks of Seidl’s documentary style of observing dark humanistic subjects are found in Paradise: Faith, just as one would come to expect from the director. And one of my favorite qualities about the director is his minimalistic and straight-forward approach he takes with his films. The camera remains mostly free of movement and often the focal point is in the dead center of the frame. There is no music to be heard, except when the characters themselves sing, and the dialog does not contain much structure. All of these techniques help the audience to remain distraction free, focusing on exactly what Seidl wants you to – a twisted thing to do because his films are often not easy to watch.

Even though Paradise: Faith contains an underlying bit of pitch-black humor, it is every bit as disturbing and thought-provoking as Seidl’s previous work. Here faith is explored in an overbearing and full of irony fashion – prominently put on display when the religious fundamentalist masturbates with a crucifix.

One letdown of Paradise: Faith is that the main character has no sympathetic qualities for the viewer to care about, which means the unapologetic story must carry the entire film. And for the most part it does. That is until the end where it begins to run out of steam and scenes go on a bit longer than they need to. The film is more comical than the first installment, but not as remarkable.

Paradise: Faith trailer

Ulrich Seidl packs a punch full of irony in Paradise: Love where neither paradise nor love is anywhere to be found. On display instead is a voyeuristic view of a shy woman in search of love who goes wild and ends up on both sides of exploitation. There is some repetition in the film as naked men and women prance around as slaves to one another, but the images never leave you and the message registers loud and clear. Even though the film is the first installment of a trilogy, a fact that I was unaware of when I first saw it at the Chicago International Film Festival, Paradise: Love can easily stand on its own.

Paradise: Love starts off with a bang, literally, as a group of autistic people slam into one another with bumper cars. The sequence is a powerful one and serves as a bit of irony when the main character preaches to the drivers to not get too wild, then later in film goes wild herself. A large amount of screaming is heard from people in the bumper cars but it appears to be out of pure pleasure, the result is an excellent display of our instinctive human desire to achieve fulfillment. And that ends up being one of the major themes of the film.

At the heart of the film is an overweight Austrian woman named Teresa who travels to the paradise beaches of Kenya to get a break from her daily grind. When she arrives at her beachside hotel, Teresa’s neat-freak personality is shown when she uses spray to disinfect everything in her room. Teresa and the rest of the vacationers stick out like sore thumbs as the close-knit group of women are all overweight and light skinned in a sea of thin dark skinned males. But unlike the other Austrian women of the group who flaunt their money around and treat the locals as their own personal sex slaves, Teresa is shy around them and is more concerned with relaxing on the beach by herself.

However, her innocence does not last long, which leads into to the other theme of the film, exploitation. Teresa is annoyed when all of the men harass her as she tries to walk the beaches, trying to sell her jewelry and claiming to give her the best deals. One man tries to seduce her but she denies him by saying that he does not love her – finally exposing what she is ultimately perusing, love. Slowly she begins to accept and even embrace the attention they give her by using her money to love. But the question that lingers is what happens when she has no money left to give?

A transformation is easily seen as the same woman who was disinfecting her room at the beginning is seen rolling around naked in it by the end of the film. The same woman who refused to have sex with a man because she did not feel loved forgoes her restraints after she realizes how much power she has. She uses the locals to fulfill her desires and they use her for her money, the common ground is that everyone is treated like an object.

The picturesque scenery of sandy beaches and clear waters gives the illusion of paradise but serves as a great juxtaposition to the monstrosity that unfolds. And there is a lot of that going on in this film. As with most of Seidl’s films, Paradise: Love is a provocative film that does not hold back from showing harsh realities that are as hard to look away from as they are to look at. The film itself is incredibly simple and easy to follow, but what it captures are complex themes found in human nature. In Paradise: Love, Seidl explores areas that others either refuse or are simply too afraid to explore.

Ulrich Seidl has a knack for making his audience uncomfortable and Import/Export is certainly no different. If any amusement is found in the film, it generally comes at someone else’s expense. The theme of Import/Export is an unwavering look at human exploitation in the form of amusement from humiliation. Even though much of what is on display in the film is human misery, by reminding the audience that death is only a matter of time, it reinforces the notion of making the most out of life no matter how unpleasant it may currently be.

Olga Guseva (Ekateryna Rak) is seen walking to work every morning through the snowy landscapes of Ukraine to her nursing job that pays her very little. After the final straw of not receiving her full paycheck that she is promised, the single mother is forced to seek new job opportunities in order to provide for herself and her baby. Apparently the options were pretty slim because she settles for an internet live-sex operator who performs sexual deeds via a webcam. Just as one would suspect, the work is very degrading and therefore does not last very long. In an effort to occupy a profession that is more gratifying, Olga retreats to Austria as a cleaning woman, leaving behind her young child with her mother to care for.

Import/Export receives its title because it follows two parallel storylines of characters in similar situations that move from one location to another. So as we follow Olga from lousy job to lousy job we also witness Paul (Paul Hofmann) as he is humiliated at his low-level mall security guard job by local Austrian thugs. Near the time Olga “imports” to Austria from the Ukraine in order to pursue a better life, Paul “exports” old arcade cabinets with his father from Austria to the Ukraine. Along the way, Paul and his father endure situations that no father and son should ever experience together.

The explicit connection these two characters share is the endless state of despair due to their unfulfilling jobs. Both Olga and Paul are dirt poor and merely go through the motions of living their mundane lives rather than exercise much enthusiasm for anything. Seidl paints a picture that is always as gloomy as it is outside; often showing devastating shots of poverty-stricken people who live in filth, which perfectly reflects the ugliness of the characters on screen. He finds a way for the audience to have vested interest in characters that have little to offer and who are deprived of everything, including their dignity.

As long as one is not new to Seidl as a director, there should be no surprises that Import/Export is mostly a grim, brutal exploitation film. Rather than hint at or slowly reveal what the film is about, Seidl bluntly displays what he is trying to bring about with images that stick with you. Obvious parallels are made throughout as characters see both sides of exploitation. An example of this is when Paul uses his dog to exploit someone’s fear of dogs for his amusement but then he is later forced to watch a prostitute who must involuntarily act like a dog on a leash at the expense of someone else’s amusement. As sad as it may be, sometimes it takes witnessing the relentless despair of others to be thankful of our own lives, and that is what the film is truly about.

A highly anticipated screening I attended here at Berlinale was Ulrich Seidl’s third installment of his Paradise trilogy, Paradise: Hope. I have only seen one other film in the Paradise trilogy, which was Paradise: Love, but this did not impact my reception or understanding of the film, as Paradise: Hope is perfectly capable of standing alone because it runs parallel to the other two films.

I have always appreciated the efforts of taking traditional story-lines and presenting them in exceptionally non-traditional ways. Paradise: Hope tells the usual story of desire for a love unattainable and the potential security that might come with it. This desire, however, is found between a thirteen year-old girl, Melanie–at a diet camp in Austria–and the camp’s fifty-something year old doctor. It is a coming of age film, and a journey of self-discovery for both sides of situation. In between the camp’s strict regimen of exercise and nutrition classes, hilariously presented, the youth of the camp spend their time being curious and frustrated pubescent teens. The film keeps a steady pace, splitting its time between the love story of the doctor and Melanie, the antics of being in the camp.

Paradise: Hope is very minimalistic. This is accented in the fact that the entire camp, consisting of twenty-four kids, is held on a massive campus. Seidl succeeds in keeping the story on track, regardless of the extreme nature of the setting, by ignoring societal norms that would otherwise carry issue. The doctor is never demonized, and the question of age is never addressed; to the point that when Melanie asks the doctor why they cannot be together, age is not brought up.

Aesthetically, the film takes advantage of long takes, as well as owning the silence that often falls between the doctor and Melanie. Both actors are brilliant at expressing themselves without words, and when they do speak the words are simple and short, further adding to Seidl’s minimalism. Repetition and patterns in action mimic the diet camps call for discipline, which serves as an overall metaphor for shaping youth to fit into an adult world.

The film also has an exceptionally organic feel to the image with natural light elements, diffusion, and stark film grain. This organic feel adds to the idea of adolescent growth and development. I found Paradise: Hope to carry a powerful voice in telling a rich and involving story about life, love and growth. However, I will add its minimalism, symbolism, and foreign nature might not please everybody, but I would definitely say it is worth a look.

A professor of mine once made a startling statement. He believes that the current generation is the last that will experience movies in actual theaters. He has some good reasoning for this claim: the fact that instant home entertainment is becoming more and more available, the fact that technology is leading to better and better home theaters for the average individual, and–most significantly–that social interaction is now achieved without physical contact.

Seeing a film in the theater is a very social thing, regardless of how frowned upon it is to speak once the lights dim. Being part of an audience totally engrossed in a film is powerful. There is energy. There is presence. There is a sense of community involvement, as hundred of us gather to spend two hours of our lives in a dark room together, experiencing a story, told by people we do not know, but somehow seems to speak to each of us individually.

What marks a film festival as a truly unique cinematic experience is the audience. Each morning when get off the S-Bahn in Potsdam Hof, I exit the station via the Arkan Galaria–directly across from the Cinemaxx and Berlinale Palast. Every morning the same scene meets my eyes: hundreds of people camping out in a line spanning the length of the mall. Some in sleeping bags, others in fold out chairs; but each with a copy of the program open upon their lap, pen in hand, circling the screenings they hope to get tickets to. This is not a line for the midnight showing of some highly anticipated blockbuster hit. This is not even a line for a festival premiere, as most–particularly for the big name films–have long been sold out. This is a line for the 5:15pm showing of an Indonesian drama by a director no one has heard of. This is the line 10:00am screening of a documentary concerning an issue many never knew was an issue. People are here just for the chance to participate. This is dedication to the art, and brings a whole new energy into the theater. This is cinema.

Don Jon’s Addiction

I had the opportunity to attend both the press screening and the festival premiere of Don Jon’s Addiction. Because of the energy of the general public–enhanced by the fact that the director, Joseph Gordon-Levitt was in the theater–I had a much better time in the premiere screening. This being said, there is a reason I chose to view this film twice. Gordon-Levitt’s feature directorial debut with this film was nothing shy of brilliant.

The character of Jon Martello comes from what would be the typical caste of a Jersey Shore Guido. He is a lady killer, obsessed with appearance, and ends each night out with his boys by taking home an 8 or better. He doesn’t hide the fact that he is in it for the short haul with these ladies (which makes it a surprise to his friends and family when he decides to take a break from his “streak” to focus on just one girl). “The most beautiful girl in the world,” according to Jon. When Jon is not fulfilling his life with his girls, family, boys, body, and car, he spends his time focused on his other true passion: pornography. Jon loves pornography better than actual sex, because he is able to “lose himself” in it. To him, it is perfect satisfaction without work or expectations. When his girlfriend discovers his hobby, she leaves, and Jon is forced to cope with the fact that his need for porn is a result of an inability to truly connect within a relationship.

There are several cinematic elements Gordon-Levitt uses to present his original story in a satisfying and memorable way. Moments of repetition in both sound and image–used to identify patterns and habits in Jon’s life–juxtaposes starkly against the meticulous shot diversity that makes up the most of the movie. In the first half of the film, the same shot is never repeated, and the camera is always in motion via pushes, pulls, quick pans, and steady glides within dialog, evoking a feeling of calm. Everything is new, and everything is smooth–like the beginning of a new relationship. The music is intentionally overly romantic in a fairy tale manner. As the story progresses and conflict is introduced, the style of shooting transitions to shaky, handheld shots that hold much longer within each scene, and the moments of earlier repetition (such as Jon’s experiences in church and at the gym) begin to vary more and more as the character begins to transform.

In all, the film tells a great, original story that is both humorous and critical. Don Jon’s Addiction makes a statement about allowing media to set unrealistic expectations in out lives, and the dangers of allowing these expectations to dominate our experience. The film managed to pull a great deal of laughter from both audiences I experienced, and in a press conference following the film, Gordon-Levitt said he believes the best way to tackle difficult issues is through humor, citing films like Dr. Strangelove as his inspiration. As stated, a brilliant debut from a very talented individual, and I think we can expect great things to come as Joseph Gordon-Levitt begins to branch out in work.

RATING: 9.8

Paradise: Hope (Capsule review)

The other highly anticipated screening I attended was Ulrich Seidl’s third installment of his Paradise trilogy, Paradise: Hope. I have only seen one other film in the Paradise trilogy, which was Paradise: Love, but this did not impact my reception or understanding of the film, as Paradise: Hope is perfectly capable of standing alone because it runs parallel to the other two films.

Full Paradise: Hope review

COMING UP: The theme of sex and pornography is proving to be a overarching theme in many of the films in the festival, having begun with Don Jon. On Saturday the film, Lovelace, a story about the making of the 1970’s porno Deepthroat, will screen and continue to examine this topic. The Necessary Death of Charlie Countryman, as well as a shorts program and a British film called The Look of Love will also be on the Saturday agenda.

If there is one thing Ulrich Seidl is the master of, it is getting a reaction out of his audience. Whether or not it is a positive one is another story. This is especially in film Dog Days as there are an inordinate amount of reviews detailing people walking out on the film in the theaters. It is not very hard to see why; the film shows its cruel nature from the very beginning, and does not loosen its grip by the time the credits start to roll. It cannot be overstated enough that the film is not for everyone.

As suggested by its title, Dog Days is set during the hottest days of the summer in a suburb of Vienna. In this suburban development, the unoriginal mass-produced houses share the same misery as the owners that occupy them. Through the lives of several different characters, the film exhibits the loneliness of these middle-class Austrian citizens, often in a deranged sexual manner.

Characters range from a stripper who gets abused by her over-protective boyfriend that hits her as much as any guy who looks at her, to an autistic hitchhiker who constantly recites useless Top 10 facts while making perverse sexual conversation with the passengers. Other characters include; a skeptical alarm salesman, an elderly man who longings for his housekeeper, a middle-aged teacher who seemingly welcomes sexual depraved men to have their way with her, and a divorced couple that somehow thinks living together is a good idea.

These are not all the characters contained in the film, but the point is that none of them are at all flattering. Dog Days never asks for a single ounce of sympathy from any of the characters, mostly because none of them have any redeeming qualities. There is nothing wrong with filling up the screen with a bunch of flawed characters, but the real issue here is in the lack of direction. Unlike Seidl’s more recent work in Paradise: Love, Dog Days is much less refined. Therefore, the clarity of the film’s intent becomes much less apparent.

Early in Ulrich Seidl’s career, he made a name for himself from the documentaries he made. Here in his first narrative feature, he utilizes some of the same characteristics that a documentary has in order to achieve the same feel of authenticity. A good example of this is how the film mostly observes its characters, rather than the perception of them being controlled by a script.

Just like hottest days of summer can be uncomfortable to bear, Dog Days is equally uncomfortable to watch. Instead of containing a realized plot, the film is more of a character study on the people of a grotesque suburban community. Back in 2001, the film won the Grand Special Jury prize at the Venice Film Festival and ever since then people have been debating whether the film actually accomplishes anything significant. So it appears as though questioning its effectiveness is unavoidable, but at the same time, so are having reactions to the film. Sometimes any reaction at all can be considered a success, but it is hard to say this film succeeded on any other level.

The third day of the Chicago International Film Festival began with the Czech film Flowerbuds. The first time director Zdenek Jirasky introduced the film by telling us that he brought us somewhat of a depressing film. Flowerbuds certainly adhered to the director’s statement.

Centered on a dysfunctional family living in a small Czech town, the film highlights the tragedy of that family and how they miss the opportunities to better their life. The father works as a train signal operator that requires him to simply push buttons to close off the road when a train comes through. After work hours he continues to push buttons, because of his serious video lottery gambling addiction. He digs himself deeper and deeper into debt with this addiction. With seemingly no options left the man is willing to give his life to save his family. Each of the other family members are equally as flawed and struggle to unite as a family.

The tone was perfectly set by the lack of saturation in the colors of the film. Had I not met with the director afterwards, I would have made one small criticism about the ending, but hearing his intention, which I will only allude to, a bridge over troubled tracks, makes completely sense. If you get a chance to see the film, it would have my recommendation.

RATING: 7.6/10

Flowerbuds

Because I had plenty of time between my next scheduled film, I decided to randomly walk into Alaskaland. The film relies heavily on fish-out-of-water circumstances of a Nigerian man living in Alaska. The man wants nothing to do with his heritage despite his family (especially his younger sister) eagerly waiting him to embrace it.

Alaskaland had good intentions, but it felt too personal to the filmmaker for an outsider to enjoy. The acting was downright atrocious, except for the sister, who had to often work with over-acted performances. The only other bright spot was the cinematography which was done very well. The dialog felt very awkward and some scenes flat out contradicted themselves. It will stick with you for all the wrong reasons.

RATING: 5/10

Alaskaland

The final film I saw today was Ulrich Seidl’s Paradise: Love. This is a film that leaves you speechless after you see it and will stick with you for a long time. It is bold, it is provocative, it is challenging.

From the very beginning Paradise: Love made it clear that the film is about fulfillment. The opening shot of autistic people running into each other in bumper cars with sheer satisfaction was a great way to show our human desire for enjoyment. The film expands off that when it follows an overweight German woman named Teresa who travels to the beautiful beaches of Kenya in search for fulfillment through love.

One of the most interesting aspects of the film was it’s use of exploitation. At first the locals there were engaging in sex with her in order to get to her money. But by the end she was using her money in attempt to purchase love, essentially using them.

The other observation that can be made is the progression of her character. When she first arrived she disinfected everything in her room but by the end she was practically rolling around in it naked. She was shy towards the men at first but became very dominating to them over time.

The only criticism I could come up with for Paradise: Love is that it drags on just a touch at the end. The point was made well before the scene towards the end finished. But that is only an extremely small issue that is easy to overlook considering the rest of the film. I think will be hard for another film to top this at the festival.

RATING: 8.5/10

Paradise: Love

COMING UP: The Portuguese character study Once Upon a Time Was I, Veronica and Cristian Mungiu’s follow up to his 2007 hit 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days with another existential drama Beyond The Hills.

Recap of some of my Tweets from today:

Follow @WayTooIndie for full coverage of the 2012 Chicago International Film Festival!

First film today will be FLOWERBUDS with director Q&A afterwards. Haven’t heard much about this one yet. #CIFF

— Way Too Indie (@WayTooIndie) October 14, 2012

Director of FLOWERBUDS explaining his film to the audience. twitter.com/WayTooIndie/st…

— Way Too Indie (@WayTooIndie) October 15, 2012

The director of ALASKALAND introducing her film. #ChiFilmFest48 twitter.com/WayTooIndie/st…

— Way Too Indie (@WayTooIndie) October 15, 2012

is hanging with @waytooindie at the @chifilmfest Filmmaker’s Lounge. #CIFF

— Nelson Carvajal (@nelsoncarvajal) October 15, 2012

PARADISE: LOVE leaves you speechless and will stick with you for a long time. One of the better films of the year. #ChiFilmFest48

— Way Too Indie (@WayTooIndie) October 15, 2012

Venice Film Festival announced the 2012 lineup this morning which will feature a premiere of Terrence Malick’s To The Wonder starring; Ben Affleck, Javier Bardem, Rachel Weisz, and Rachel McAdams. Malick is one of the 17 directors that will be competing for the Golden Lion trophy at this year’s Venice Film Festival. One of the other directors that will be representing the United States is Harmony Korine with his film Spring Breakers featuring James Franco, Vanessa Hudgens, and Selena Gomez.

The biggest surprise was the absence of Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master. According to many rumors the film was going to premiere at Venice and when it was left off the TIFF announcement two days ago that only made it more likely to appear here. Variety even made the mistake of initially reporting The Master making the lineup.

The 69th annual Venice Film Festival will run from August 29th through September 8th.

See the full Venice Film Festival lineup below:

Opening Film (Out Of Competition)
The Reluctant Fundamentalist – Mira Nair (U.S.,Qatar)

Competition
To The Wonder – Terrence Malick (U.S.)
Something in the Air – Olivier Assayas (France)
Outrage: Beyond – Takeshi Kitano (Japan)
Fill The Void – Rama Bursztyn and Yigal Bursztyn (Israel)
Pieta – Kim Ki-duk (South Korea)
Dormant Beauty – Marco Bellocchio (Italy)
E’ stato il figlio – Daniele Cipri (Italy)
At Any Price – Ramin Bahrani (US, UK)
La Cinquieme Saison – Peter Brosens, Jessica Woodworth (Belgium, Netherlands, France)
Un Giorno Speciale – Francesca Comencini (Italy)
Passion – Brian De Palma (France, Germany)
Superstar – Xavier Giannoli (France, Belgium)
Spring Breakers – Harmony Korine (US)
Thy Womb – Brillante Mendoza (Philippines)
Linhas de Wellington – Valeria Sarmiento (Portugal, France)
Paradise: Faith – Ulrich Seidl (Austria, France, Germany)
Betrayal – Kirill Serebrennikov (Russia)

Out Of Competition
L’homme qui rit – Jean-Pierre Ameris (France-Czech Republic)
Love Is All You Need – Susanne Bier (Denmark-Sweden)
Cherchez Hortense – Pascal Bonitzer (France)
Sur un fil – Simon Brook (France-Italy)
Enzo Avitabile Music Life – Jonathan Demme (Italy-US)
Tai Chi 0 – Stephen Fung (China)
Lullaby To My Father – Amos Gitai (Israel-France-Switzerland)
Penance (Shokuzai) – Kiyoshi Kurosawa (Japan)
Bad 25 – Spike Lee (US)
O Gebo e a Sombra – Manoel de Oliveira (Portugal-France)
The Company You Keep – Robert Redford (US)
Shark (Bait 3D) – Kimble Rendall (Australia-Singapore-China)
Disconnect – Henry-Alex Rubin (US)
The Iceman – Ariel Vromen (US)

Out Of Competition: Special Events
Anton’s Right Here – Lyubov Arkus (Russia)
It Was Better Tomorrow – Hinde Boujemaa (Tunisia)
Clarisse – Liliana Cavani (Italy)
Sfiorando il muro – Silvia Giralucci and Luca Ricciardi (Italy)
Carmel – Amos Gitai (Israel-France-Italy)
El impenetrable – Daniele Incalcaterra and Fausta Quattrini (Argentina-France)
Witness: Libya – Michael Mann (US)
Medici con l’Africa – Carlo Mazzacurati (Italy)
La nave dolce – Daniele Vicari (Italy-Albania)

Orrizonti
Wadjda – Haifaa Al Mansour (Saudi Arabia-Germany)
The Paternal House – Kianoosh Ayari (Iran)
I Also Want It -, Alexey Balabanov (Russia)
Gli Equilibristi – Ivano De Matteo (Italy-France)
L’intervallo – Leonardo Di Costanzo (Italy-Switzerland-Germany)
Winter of Discontent – Ibrahim El Batout (Egypt)
Tango Libre – Frederic Fonteyne (Belgium-France-Luxembourg)
The Cutoff Man – Idan Hubel (Israel)
Fly With The Crane – Li Ruijun (China)
A Hijacking – Tobias Lindholm (Denmark)
Leones – Jazmin Lopez (Argentina-France-Netherlands)
Bellas Mariposas – Salvatore Mereu (Italy)
Low Tide – Roberto Minervini (US-Italy-Belgium)
Boxing Day – Bernard Rose (UK-US)
Yema – Djamila Sahraoui (Algeria-France)
Araf – Somewhere In Between – Yesim Ustaoglu (Turkey-France-Germany)
The Millennial Rapture – Koji Wakamatsu (Japan)
Three Sisters – Wang Bing (France-Hong Kong-China)