offside

Offside
d. Jafar Panahi, 2006

This is the first film by Jafar Panahi that I've seen (I came close to watching Crimson Gold a while back, but didn't, for whatever reason), but based solely on how great Offside, it's safe to say he's one of the great directors currently working. I found this film to be more accesible than that of Abbas Kiarostami--who wrote Panahi's last film--if not as formally rigorous. Regardless, this is essentially a flawless film. It briefly catalogues what it is like to be a woman in Iran that wants to go to a football match, which they are not allowed to do. The reason, as explained by the officers in the film, is because they may hear the men cursing. Offside isn't as angry as a film like this has a right to; instead, Panahi chooses to take a more humanistic approach: he presents the clear injustice of the situation, and layer by layer he peels away the inexplicable reasons a society ends up like this. Even the aforementioned officers in the film, who might very well be the "villains" in a Hollywood film tackling the topic of injustice, get their point of view across. Panahi is clearly a very intelligent filmmaker, and also one that can make a thoroughly enjoyable, not to mention brilliant, film out of a fantastic concept. I only wish more films were this subtle and engrossing.

wavelength

Wavelength
d. Michael Snow, 1967

One of the two Snows I've seen, 1967's Wavelength does represent a kind of landmark in the history of experimental film. Ostensibly about the journey between a shot overlooking an entire loft to a close-up of a photograph pasted on the wall opposite the camera, the film has a lot to do with the way we perceive not only the cinema, but also reality. A formalist extravaganza, Wavelength is an experience like no other. In its 45 minutes, Snow manages to do what took Kubrick millions of dollars to put together the next year--when 2001 was released. An amazing movie.

regular lovers

Regular Lovers
d. Philippe Garrel, 2005

This is one film that I'd been waiting to see since hearing about it many months ago. Whenever this happens, it's very difficult for the actual film to live up to my own weird expectations. In this case, watching Regular Lovers was more amazing an experience than I was prepared for. Miles away from Bertolucci's take on May '68, The Dreamers, Garrel's film represents something much more exquisite than a mere period piece, it's a captivating and intimidating monument on its own right. The film would be worth watching for just its beautiful photography; its black and white images as crisp and vibrant as anything by Godard or Warhol (two directors whose influenced is heavily felt in the movie). I could go on and on about Garrel's compositions, his masterful editing, the modulated performances (led by Garrel's own son, Louis, as the poet Francois), and I probably will, at a later date. As of now, let's just say I really love this film.