★★★½
“Alone again… Unnaturally…”
This is a very different kind of GWG film: indeed, it could almost be called an inaction heroine movie. It starts from a very simple presence. A woman (Gedeck) wakes up in a cabin in the Austrian Alps. When she tried to head to a nearby village, the path is blocked by an unseen, impenetrable barrier that has sprung up overnight, and now defines the boundary of her world. Everyone outside is dead. What do you do? How do you survive, both short- and long-term? Could you handle the loneliness? Can you retain your humanity, when you are, apparently, the only human being left?
These are the questions which this film is interested in asking – much more so than prosaic ones, such as “Who put the wall there?” or “Can you maybe dig under it?” If you’re looking for a definitive resolution, go elsewhere too, because the film simply ends when the woman has to give up keeping her journal, because the supply of paper has run out. I suppose, technically, that’s a spoiler, but this is a film where it’s not the destination that matters, it’s the road which takes you there. And you’d better be able to handle a lot of voiceover, because there’s almost nothing else here. Normally, I regard voiceovers as a cinematic cop-out, for when you can’t be bothered to write dialogue or action; but, considering the heroine is virtually the only person you see over the course of the film, they’re basically essential here, and even in subtitles, have a poetic quality that is generally effective.
Admittedly, for long stretches, there’s nothing of significance going on, and if you’re not in the mood for some (very picturesque) navel-gazing, the lack of activity could become aggravating. However, I can’t say I was ever bored at all, and I’m quite surprised by that, since I am more likely to be seen tapping my foot impatiently, if ten minutes go by without a giant fireball. The cinematography, combined with the Alpine scenery, is quite luscious, and so even during the quieter moments – okay, quieter half-hours – this remains a visual treat. Gedeck’s performance is full of quiet strength; she simply gets on with the business of everyday survival, despite the bizarre twist life has taken. I suspect I wouldn’t handle the same situation anywhere near as well as her character does, and It’s that inner depth of fortitude, which makes it fit in here, despite the low-key nature of the content.
This is not the kind of film which necessarily creates any immediate impression. It finishes, in the same laid-back manner as the previous 105 minutes have unfolded. But over the days which followed, I found myself thinking about the questions it raised, and how my answers differed from the heroine’s, or where they overlapped. This lasting impact is one of the things which is generally the mark of a good film; it stays with you, when more ephemeral pleasures have been forgotten. While entirely devoid of pyrotechnics, this is still one which I’ll probably want to revisit and chew over again.
Dir: Julian Pölsler
Star: Martina Gedeck




This German 1970’s film is well ahead of its time in some ways, but is postively Neanderthal in others, being basically a scream of fear about women’s liberation. It feels like a far-less subtle version of Neil LaBute’s re-make of The Wicker Man, taking place in a matriarchal town, where women are in charge, with the exception of a couple of incompetent men, to lift heavy things and provide a facade of normality (the police commissioner is an alcoholic, who knows little and cares less about what’s going on). Into this scenario comes Eve (Glas), a stressed-out secretary who has been booked in for a six-week course of treatment at the local spa. It’s not long before she stumbles across the body of a man with a knife embedded in his back, only to discover that no-one believes her, with the clinic’s doctor telling people Eve is suffering from post-tramautic hallicinations. Is that the case, or is there something genuinely unpleasant going on? And what’s this on the dinner menu?
This was also released in a hardcore version as Black Lolita, but I’m not sure if that was 3D or not. Certainly, the DVD delivers about the worst such attempt I’ve ever seen. It’s in color, but also attempts the red/green method (glasses very early, and the only thing to be said for them is, they stop you seeing the film, which on the whole, is probably no bad thing. Lolita (Love) decides to team up with an air-stewardess and a yoga instructress to take down the local Mr. Big, who goes by the name Buddha – even though about all he shares with the Enlightened One is being Asian, since he’s neither fat nor pacifist.
In the late seventies, British television was notable for series which generally kicked ass on the performance front, but suffered from woefully inadequate production values. The most well-known example is Doctor Who, but that was just the tip of a dramatic iceberg which included the likes of Blake’s 7 and this series: in some cases, you can look past or ignore the deficiencies, because the acting is good enough to counteract them. That, sadly, isn’t the case here, with Phillips (a compatriot of Diana Rigg and Glenda Jackson at RADA) sadly adrift as Boudicca, the queen of the Iceni who takes on the occupying Roman forces after her daughters are assaulted. Having enjoyed the 2003 version, with Alex Kingston in the title role, I thought I’d give this one a chance, but when a supposed army of 6,000 is represented by four chariots and, maybe, ten guys in animal skins, it’s hard not to notice.
Allowing for the fact this was more or less a rough-cut – you can still see the wires as the heroine throws villains around – this actually is far from the atrocity you expect, going from the pre-production fan loathing. The story avoid the whole “origins” thing, hitting the ground running by having Wonder Woman/Diana Prince (Palicki) already fully-active, and busting crime around Los Angeles. Her extra-legal activities, with the local cops’ complicity, bring her to the attention of the federal authorities. Meanwhile, she’s tussling with the board of her company over the merchandise that funds her crime-fighting, objecting to the size of the tits on her action-figure – and, yes, they actually say “tits”, to my surprise. Finally, the villainess (Hurley) is performing illegal medical experiments with steroids and such, to create super-soldiers, and it’s up to Wonder Woman, her plane (wisely, no longer invisible), bullet-deflecting bracelets and lasso which may or may not be of truth (it’s unclear from this episode) to stop her.
Probably best to approach this with few expectations of this being a factual representation of the time; more than once, it felt clearly like the writer was using the Roman occupation of Britain, and Boudica’s rebellion, as a metaphor for American’s involvement in Iraq. There are certainly enough anachronisms, particularly in the dialogue (the Roman Emperor chatting informally away with the leader of a British tribe, and references to “terrorists”), that it seems deliberate. The basic story is the one well-known of legend: after her husband’s death, and the raping of her daughters by the invading Romans, Boudica (Kingston) led her tribe in an initially successful revolt, only to be stopped when the full force of the Empire was turned on them.
Nami is sent to jail for killing a Yakuza boss, and when she is released, returns to the Ginza district of Tokyo to live with her uncle, who runs a pool hall. She gets a job as a hostess in a bar, with the help of her new friend Ryuji (Watase), but the quiet life doesn’t last for long, even as she tries to help the widow of the man she killed – whose petition on behalf of Nami is what helped lead to her early release. For the local mob, in the shape of Okada (Nanbara) and his gang, are sniffing around the bar, seeking to take it over. To settle things, Nami offers to take on Okada’s champion at billiards, a challenge the gangster readily accepts, not realizing he has just been hustled, and that Nami is no mean player herself. Can she win – and even if she does, will Okada live up to his side of the bet?
I find the line between “terrorist” and “freedom fighter” an interesting one, drawn not so much by any objective measure, but by the viewer’s perspective and historical hindsight. Qiu Jin is a good example: she fought against the perceived oppression – particularly of women – by the Qing dynasty in the early 20th century, and ended up getting publicly beheaded for her support of revolutionary factions, by the government of the time. Now? A heroine and a martyr, who has an official museum ‘n’ stuff. Funny how things work out.