On Blancanieves

Blancanieves, directed by Pablo Berger, is a stunning contemporary silent film.  Modern audiences will quickly discover that there need be no interruptive jabber to make a film worthy of their gaze.  Rather, viewers will come to realize and respect their experience of a film in a different manner.  The film’s silence—the old-fashioned title cards and inaudible dialogue—greatly enhances its narrative.  The viewer is left guessing, waiting for the words to appear onscreen.  Modern cinematography, accompanied by Spanish-style melodies, help to move the story along. 

Set in a Spanish town during the 1920’s, this black-and-white film is far from bleak.  The cinematography is beautifully engaging, inviting the audience to be a part of the narrative.  The acting is as well-executed as any, and the actors were masterfully chosen.  Following a Snow White based storyline, with a Spanish bullfighting twist, Blancanieves proves the timelessness of our most beloved fairytales.  Though, the film is far from a children’s bed time story. 

Time and again, the evil stepmother, Encarna, displays her ruthlessness toward all who surround her.  Most vulnerable to Encarna’s villainous behavior, Carmen lie beholden to a range of ill-treatment. The viewer is left with an almost constant desire for revenge.  A strong feeling of resentment and hatred is conjured as a result.  Finally, only after Encarna’s demise, is any sense of satisfaction achieved. 

The ending of Blancanieves, possibly contrary to popular opinion, was absolutely wonderful.  As a mere prop for a circus freak-show, Carmen is placed inside the classic Snow White glass box, waiting for her Prince Charming to bring her back to life with a kiss.  At the very end, when the man who could be considered her true love kisses her, we see a tear slide down her cheek. She did not suddenly awaken, as may be the case in traditional fairytale stories.  The tear that rolled ever-so-slightly down Carmen’s cheek, 

Zero Dark Thirty: Gender Construction

            Directed by the first woman in history to win an Oscar for Best Director, Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty is a truly unique film.  Central to the film is a persistent CIA agent whose determination ultimately leads to the raid on bin Laden’s Abbottabad compound.  Maya, played by Jessica Chastain, is the film’s strong and highly intelligent lead.  Different from most military/war films of any era, Zero Dark Thirty’s strong female lead truly sets it apart.  But, aside from this, what does ZDT bring to the table?  

            The argument can be made that Zero Dark Thirty is, in some ways at least, a feminist film.  In Bigelow’s film, women are not sexualized objects placed at man’s every whim.  Rather, the films protagonist stands out from her male counterparts.  During one scene, Maya spouts, “I’m the mother f*cker that found this place,” when speaking to the CIA director in reference to the Abbottabad compound.  Her male counterparts take note of her unremitting confidence.  She lets no one define who she is but herself.

            But, Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty is also criticized as a film that doesn’t live up to feminist ideals.  It is argued that the only difference between ZDT and the countless other military/war films is that of the female lead.  And that, though Bigelow has been highly proclaimed for her work as a director, Zero Dark Thirty is yet another film in the American Imperialist machine.  Proponents to this school of thought proclaim that Bigelow’s film defies gender equality by promoting ideals (the glorification of war, etc.) that are fundamental to patriarchy. 

            Both points hold a good deal of weight, and both are, to an extent, true.  It depends on how the film is viewed, and by whom (obviously…).  ZDT does stand out from the over-abundance of military/war films.  There are a plethora of issues that have been debated around this film, controversy upon controversy has been stirred.  And, being all-to familiar with 9-11 history, the War on Terror, and the hunt for bin Laden, I’m not sure what to make of Zero Dark Thirty. 

On The Devil's Backbone: Fable or Horror?

While del Toro’s The Devil’s Backbone has elements of horror (lots of gore/violence and suspense), it also contains layers of fable and fantasy.  The film reminded me, from the very beginning, of Pan’s Labyrinth – directed by del Toro as well – which I didn’t know until after watching.  Devil’s Backbone is very suspenseful at times, perhaps adding to the horror-like affect.  When Santi’s ghost character randomly pops out at the viewer, with a shrieking sound, the feel is very horror-esque.  However, unlike many horror films, our “ghost” is not a super terrifying, deranged, monster-like creature (or a serial-murderer of sorts).  Santi, brutally (and accidentally) murdered by the stories antagonist, is only a child.  While he does look semi-terrifying, we’re able to see past that, and feel his desire to avenge his death at the hands of Jacinto.    

In some sense, Santi’s ghost is beautiful – a “fantastical” and almost mythological being.  Also, the film’s narrative is much more creative and well-written than many horror films of this generation (just my opinion).  It contains political allegories and stabs at “the establishment,” instead of showcasing a simple, corny, overdone plot. 

So, in conclusion, there are definitely elements of horror in del Toro’s Devil’s Backbone – I may have jumped from fear more than a few times while watching.  But, to me, it’s more of an allegorical, whimsical, mythological story.