DRAMA CRIME COMEDY LIGHTS IN THE DUSK (PG) 78min .000
The final part of Finnish filmmaker Aki Kaurismaki’s ‘Loser Trilogy’ (preceded by Drifting Clouds and The Man Without a Past) concerns itself with lonely night watchman Koistinen (Janne Hyytiainen) who has modest hopes of setting up his own business. But then he meets blonde femme fatale Aila (Maria Heiskanen) and piece-by-piece his life falls apart as Aila’s Mr Big (llkka Koivula) inveigles him in his criminal plans.
As is always the case with Kaurismaki the man behind such slow burning oddball gems as Leningrad Cowboys Go America, Hamlet Goes Business, Crime and Punishment and The Match Factory Girl, this is a case of ‘same shit, different day’. lmbued with familiar Kaurismaki trademarks - long shots of empty frames that the actors have just walked out of, fades to black, sparse dialogue, mannered acting, chain-smoking and a streak of black humour so deadpan it has developed
DRAMA CLOSE TO HOME (12A) 90min .0.
Written and directed by a pair of female filmmakers. Dalia Hager and Vidi Bilu. Close to Home has the distinction of being the first ever Israeli film to focus on the experiences of women in the country's
armed serVices. The rebellious Smadar (Smadar Sayari and
conSCIentious Mirit (Neama Schendar) are cute 18—year-olds serving their compulsory two-year term in the military. Patrolling the streets of Jerusalem near one of the gates to the Old City together they are instructed to check the identity cards of any Palestinians they encounter and to record their names and addresses. But. as Sinadar asks her no-nonsense commander Dubek llrit SUKI). "How do i know
who is an Arab’?'
Smadar and Mirit have little to say about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict: understandably their concerns are men clothes. haircuts and their families. Mirit even develops a crush on a handsome inale stranger. who assists her after a bomb attack. Shot on digital handheld cameras. Close to Home is an episodic. modest effort. yet. while avoiding sern‘ionising. it successfully prowdes a perceptive snapshot of everyday life in a bitterly (livided city. (Toni Dawson)
I Fil/nliouse, Edinburgh from Mon 4 Jun.
rigor mortis — Lights in the Dusk is a dour minimalist treat.
Lifted towards the end by what seems to be a newfound optimism on Kaurismaki’s part, this is clearly a nod to everything he deems to be cool as he nears his 50th birthday. Not much has changed; he still loves Chaplin (Koistinen is the little tramp personified, who in Kaurismaki’s own words is looking ‘for a small crack to crawl in through, but his fellow beings and the faceless apparatus of society see it as their business to crush his modest hopes . . .’) and film noirs and the tango music of Argentinean Carlos Finn and Firm Olavi Virta. As usual this visually stunning film is shot on 35mm (unlike his contemporaries Kaurismaki refuses to go digital) by regular collaborator Timo Salminen. As Frank Zappa pointed out: ‘lt’s always advisable to be a loser if you cannot become a winner.’ Or to put it another way: ‘l’m a loser baby so why don’t you kill me?’ (Paul Dale) I GFl. Glasgow from Mon 28—Jfliu (3/ May. Film/louse. Edinburgh. Fri l—llii/ 7Jun.
The revolution will not be televised, it will be digitised: this issue’s P/ayLi’sl bangs on your door in the middle of the night to evoke memories of the Eastern Bloc and consider what life would be like under the yolk of a repressive and uncaring regime.
For an experimental take on the Cold War defrosting process, Glasgow video artist Santa Kaos creatively manipulates footage of a trip to the Berlin Wall in the short eBeilin (www.youtube.com/watch). Set to an electronica soundtrack by Scottish band The Super Scientists, eBer/in‘s visual effects V and distortions uncover anarchic sensibilities within the concrete landscapes of the old East German capital.
The days of Stalinist state censorship are hopefully long gone, but the British media isn't always as free as you might imagine. So switch on the gramophone to confuse any listening surveillance men. pull down the blinds, and check out the much-banned British political filmmaker Peter Watkins. His BBC film The War Game (www.youtube.com) was removed from public eyes in 1965, and contains a stark black and white realisation of the immediate effect of a nuclear attack. Even more subversively, Watkins” extraordinary 1967 film Privilege (pictured) takes a blurred snapshot. of the extraordinary life of fictional popstar Steven Shorter. a tortured star whose image and life-style are carefully manipulated as a way of controlling the masses ‘ (www.youtube.com). Both films were banned before their release and have never been issued on DVD or VHS; in the past. you'd need dogged determination and strong anti-authority connections to get a sniff of the subversive quality of Watkins' work. Thanks to the Internet. the change in the way we watch films means that Watkins’ long-repressed politicised polemics are now available for your home ‘intertainment’ at the touch of a button. Vive Ia revolution! (Eddie Harrison)
11.: Mai, /' .Jun 900/ THE LIST 37