Category: Visual Arts

The Italian Film Festival in Ann Arbor is an incredible way to become acquainted with Italian film, an underrepresented yet incredibly poignant field. It is a way for film students to venture out of American-made films, a way for Italian students to practice their language in a colloquial setting, and a way for anyone to experience beauty in a different language and culture. 

L’immensità by Emanuele Crialese is an emotional movie dissecting a failing relationship. Clara and Felice, an Italian couple in the 1970s, have fallen out of love, but are forced to stay in the relationship because of extenuating circumstances. As their children witness their parents’ failing marriage, viewers are treated to a spectacle of love, loss, and childhood woes. 

This film festival only comes once a year, so sign up while you can!

Where: 

• L’immensità by Emanuele Crialese will play at Lorch Hall – Askwith Auditorium at 7:30 pm on Saturday, April 8th. 
• Nevia by Nunzia de Stefano will play at Lorch Hall – Askwith Auditorium at 5:00 pm on Saturday, April 8th. 

Tickets are free, making this an accessible event for all students, faculty, or anyone else interested in watching beautiful Italian films. 

* Image taken from Turner Classic Movies (TCM)

Last night’s late night showing of Blue Velvet at the State Theater felt like watching a sex scene with your parents. That is, a two hour sex scene in a world where sexual blackmail prevails, women are held captive to masochistic, drug-addled perverts, and a young boy discovers his sexuality in a Freudian psychosexual nightmare. I don’t know how we watch it. Even less how it was made. 

Blue Velvet is the strangest coming-of-age tale ever created. Released in 1986 by the infamous director David Lynch, Blue Velvet was initially rejected by several studios based on its aggressive, sexual, and, frankly, perverted content. However, despite these initial trepidations, the film went on to achieve true cult classic status, with Lynch earning an Oscar nomination for best director. I first watched Blue Velvet when I was 14 years old, and was immediately transfixed by the opening scene. A camera travels down a royal blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, coming to rest on a white picket fence covered with luscious red roses. A smiling firefighter, a dalmatian by his side, waves at the camera from a slow-moving fire truck. This is a land of serenity: children safely cross the road, a man waters his green lawn, and a woman sips a cup of tea while watching TV. 

But things are not as they seem. Suddenly, the man falls into the mud, clutching his neck. Something terrible has happened. The hose comes to rest at the man’s groin, obscenely shooting water into his dog’s mouth. As he lies prone on the ground, the camera travels down into the underbelly of the world. This is no longer a place of roses and tea. We dig into the ground, where carnivorous spiders burrow into the dirt and ants bite chunks out of stringy brown leaves. This is the real world – a place of secrets, confined underground in the Earth’s bowels. 

I don’t really know how Blue Velvet is supposed to make me feel. Its content is so erotic, so charged, it feels almost like David Lynch is abusing the actors. Isabella Rossellini plays Dorothy, a battered woman who is being blackmailed into sexual slavery by the sadistic Frank (Dennis Hopper). Dorothy starts up an equivalent sado-masochistic relationship with the clean-cut Jeffrey (Kyle MacLachlan), who is ashamed of his feelings toward her but can’t control his urges. The scenes this trio – almost a love triangle – share are some of the most pornographic I have ever seen. 

Blue Velvet is a 20th century masterpiece. I don’t know who decided to play it at the State Theater, but that person is one sick bastard. 

**Photo taken from the Austin Chronicle

In the New York Times review of the ‘The 2023 Oscar Nominated Live Action Short Films’ screening, the author argues that “Fans of sticky sentiment will be delighted with this bundle of live-action shorts, only two of which deserve note.” 

Only two of which deserve note? I disagree. Sure – I think know which short films are not going to win the Oscar this year. But the fact that they lack the marketability to appeal to the Oscar committee does not make them any less concisely beautiful, any less adept at building tension, or any less able to intersect grief with joy. The 2023 Oscar Live Action nominees – Denmark’s “Ivalu,” Norway’s “Night Ride,” Italy and America’s “Le Pupille,” Luxembourg’s “The Red Suitcase,” and Ireland’s “An Irish Goodbye” – thrilled me. Short films, in my opinion, are an underrated genre, and are uniquely capable of weaving together many themes, identities, and cultures into a film screening the length of one movie. More than ever, leaving audiences exposed to so many ideas all at once is even more valuable than putting just one perspective on the table. 

This year’s live action nominees are a celebration of our differences. “Ivalu” sets the tone with a sober, horrifying depiction of childhood trauma and suicide set in the rugged, icy Greenland mountains. When her older sister goes missing, a young girl desperately follows a raven, a crowing black figure overhead, to search for her. Viewers receive a tour of all the places Pipaluk and Ivalu used to play together – places where, as we discover later in the film, they will never play. 

Continuing on the somber tone, “The Red Suitcase” builds suspense so expertly that I literally gripped the edges of my seat. We watch as a young Iranian woman terrifyingly evades the man she has been promised to as a child bride. In “Night Ride” a dwarf and transgender woman silently join forces to battle a bully. We go from thrill to despair to righteous indignation as the two most vulnerable people on a train get their revenge in what can only be called a dark comedy. “Ivalu,” “The Red Suitcase,” and “Night Ride” are masterful analyses of marginalized groups: they make the audience feel what they feel, see what they see, hurt like they hurt. 

“An Irish Goodbye” and “Le Pupille” take the same anguished themes and apply them to a lighter, more comedic setting. “An Irish Goodbye” sees two brothers, one with Down Syndrome, mourn their mother by completing every item on her bucket list, with a heartfelt twist at the end. In “Le Pupille,” my favorite of the five short films, young girls in an Italian orphanage hilariously navigate adult politics. While the adults are pursuing redemption in the afterlife, the girls are pursuing the only thing kids really care about: a slice of cake. 

I walked out of the theater feeling like I just watched a secret masterpiece. I highly recommend buying your tickets for ‘The 2023 Oscar Nominated Live Action Short Films’ screening before it’s too late.