Category Archives: Reflections

Certified Copy (2010) (2011)

Director: Abbas Kiarostami

Cast: Juliette Binoche, William Shimell

If you have not seen Certified Copy, then you should immediately stop reading and see the film, and then you should come back and read my thoughts. I really knew very little about this film and do not want to take away the rewards received from it by anyone watching it for the first time. Needless to say, I think it’s marvellous, and I would  encourage anyone and everyone to see it.

The Art (or Forgery) of Marriage & the Art (or Forgery) of Europe

Certified Copy is the type of film that invites you to think rather than makes you think. It’s not because the film is full of big ideas, but it is because the film doesn’t explain itself. In fact, if it did try to explain itself and let the viewer explicitly in to what the characters and/or the filmmaker know, then it wouldn’t work nearly so well. At best it would end up like good M. Night Shyamalan; at worst it would end up like bad M. Night Shyamalan. I’m not suggesting that there is anything supernatural about the events depicted in this film (there absolutely isn’t), but there is something unearthly about the quality of this film. And so, I will attempt to explain the unexplainable and, in doing so, probably destroy the magic of this movie.

Central to the scenario is the relationship between the two leads, Juliette Binoche as the unnamed woman and English opera singer William Shimell as James Miller. This relationship can be summed up in two simple sentences and yet be unfathomable:

They are strangers. They are married.

Of course, these are not exclusive of each other. I’m coming up on eight years of marriage (a drop in the bucket for some, but a lot longer than many), and while I certainly wouldn’t describe my beautiful wife as a stranger, I also wouldn’t be arrogant enough to say that I know her completely and fully (and I think she would say the same about me). If the lead characters in Certified Copy are married (and I have no idea whether or not they are), then the notion of the individual and her/his existence within the environment of marriage is something the film is exploring. Do lives become more individual as marriage elongates?  Do we find excuses in work or the relationships with our children to justify a desire to retain our individuality just as money and child-rearing entangle us with tendrils of practicality and responsibility and love? Is the  nature of love (or a certain type of love) to be simultaneously estranged and intimate, to be hostile and forgiving? These questions and more are brought out not initially in the film, but after one absolutely brilliant scene: in the café where Juliette Bincohe’s character confesses or schemes or employs the ruse of her marriage. The owner of the café sees the couple in one way; it is a perspective we have not yet thought of. To her there is no doubt that they are married, yet for the audience it is the planting of the seeds of doubt since before this point we had accepted them as strangers. For the rest of the film we are not distracted by this question. For the rest of the film our attention becomes heightened to their relationship, and we have our ears pricked to pick out clues to satisfy our curiosity. It’s not a puzzle or a game; it’s a key idea of the movie.

So, are they married?

Their intimacy, Miller’s fluency in French, their shared memories of the night before and her drives from Florence (I think) to Rome all point to them, in fact, being married. There are subtler clues also, such as how Kiarostami brings us into intimacy with these characters as they begin their drive to the village. He starts the camera deliberately outside the car, shooting through the windscreen and then slowly, almost imperceptibly brings us into the car, into their relationship as it becomes more personal and less of a conversation between strangers and about art, but about marriage.

At least equally, however, there is evidence the other way: that this is all a fake and they are not married at all. Miller’s complete lack of memory of the village upon their arrival and the personal landmarks within the village (such as where they spent their wedding night). Also, the son at the beginning of the film displays neither recognition of nor interest in Miller. Does it matter whether or not these characters are married? To me, it does not, and if it does to you, then Certified Copy will leave you frustrated. What seems to matter is the attention placed on their relationship and the tension between the real and the unreal, the original and the forgery, and, in terms of art according to the James Miller character, the value intrinsic to both forms.

Now, briefly on to the other matter this film raised for me… Europe.

Let me qualify this by saying that I don’t think Certified Copy is an overtly political film. But, in these days of the questioning of the legitimacy and the existence of Europe, I think the politics are present with the question of what it means to be part of Europe.

Technically, I am a European… I was born in England. Of course, the UK is not really part of Europe, so for that reason I don’t count myself as European and I grew up in Canada, so that disqualifies me also, and I’ve lived a huge chunk of my adult life in Asia, so I’m disqualified again. So, definitely, I’m not European. Certified Copy, on the other hand, is European; French financed, French star, English leading man, Italian location, and directed by an Iranian. Yes, this is the new Europe, the 21st century Europe.

On one hand this plays into the clear theme of the film: the tension between the real/original and the fake/copy. Who can be a European? An Englishman? An Iranian? The European Union is politically experimental, but based somewhat on the model of the United States of America. How original is it? More than politically or economically, Europe is about culture and why, with its dealings with art and art criticism, I feel comfortable talking about Certified Copy as a statement on Europe even though it excludes the Germans. Clearly my thoughts on this topic are still embryonic and I’m not entirely convinced within myself that there’s anything more to them than just an inclination on my part to have them. But, as Juliette Binoche and William Shimell’s characters were arguing in the restaurant in the final act of the film, I couldn’t help but wonder if on some level this film was a statement on the moment of European existential crisis.

If it is or if it isn’t, it makes no difference. Certified Copy is a magnificent, thoroughly enjoyable film. Bravo.

&.


The Interrupters (2011)

Director: Steve James

Cast: Eddie Bocanegra, Tio Hardiman, Ameena Matthews, Gary Slutkin, Ricardo “Cobe” Williams

Apathy & Empathy

The Interrupters  is the latest documentary feature from Steve James, the celebrated director of Hoop Dreams (1994), which, I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit, I have never seen. The Interrupters highlights the work done by CeaseFire in Chicago and its dedicated violence interrupters as they attempt to mediate peace between individuals and within individuals on the streets and in the neighbourhoods of some of America’s most violence-blighted places. From a rhetorical perspective, the film posits that violence is a disease and, as such, that it is infectious, viral, and communicated in a hereditary manner. Being surrounded by violence creates acceptance of violent behaviour, witnessing violence instigates new violence. being a victim of violence spawns retaliatory responses, and having a violent parent creates offspring prone to violence. The interrupters of CeaseFire step in as social/community antibiotics  or antibodies and, by their own admission, are not trying to solve the root causes of violence in these Chicago neighbourhoods (poverty, education, political disenfranchisement), but the major symptom these factors lead to: violence on the street as it is happening.

The Interrupters is a movie full of emotions; anger, guilt, and regret are the most prevalent for the subjects of the film. For me, there is sadness here, too, and it is derived from my own reflection on this movie rather than the states of the lives depicted within it. Statistics presented in the film, such as more Americans being killed in these neighbourhoods than in the Iraq War, are sad, but sadder still is that it doesn’t shock me; it doesn’t even surprise me. My own apathy to the plight of urban America is also sad. I could excuse myself by stating that Englewood is so far away from me here in Korea and my white middle-class liberal upbringing and lifestyle. It is far away and far outside my experience and it doesn’t touch my daily life.  Could it be that I just don’t care?

Is this movie even asking me to care? I don’t think that it is. It doesn’t feel like a call for action from the intended audience as it is not an overtly political film. But, with its direct cinema style, it strives to present a truth by being in the situation. The film is successful in creating empathy for how these kids, mostly, see themselves and their futures whether it be at a funeral or from a little girl crying in a classroom or a troubled teen receiving a manicure at an up-scale suburban shopping mall. Indeed these most moving and powerful episodes in the film work precisely because the camera is there just as the Interrupters need to be there when violence erupts. The personalities in the film (notably Ameena, Cobe, and Eddie) are strong and wilful. They seem to be the best Interrupters not just because they can relate to the gang and violence stricken youth having come from these neighbourhoods and culture and having spent time in prison, but because they made the hard choice to activate their knowledge and experience to help. They didn’t “get out” of this culture, instead they are seeking to have the culture view itself in another way. The individuals Ameena, Cobe, and Eddie most closely interact with in the movie are being asked to make that choice, too. Mr. James and his documentary don’t offer up any greater answer than this: be there and choose. Or, as Spike Lee so magnificently demanded, do the right thing.  The film shows, in the complement of content and style, that individual actions make a difference to individual lives and if these actions are positive then instead of a cancer you have a regeneration of self, community, and society.

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