Ben X
2007 (Belgium / Netherlands)
Director: Nic Balthazar
From its loopy credit sequence–presented as though the film were an online fantasy role-playing game–it’s apparent that Ben X relies on first-time director Nic Balthazar’s assured familiarity with its narrative elements. Based on his own novel, the film confidently tackles subjects that should be challenging to translate to cinema: video games, digital socializing, and the daily tribulations of Asberger Syndrome. Looking suspiciously twenty-something and relying too heavily on bug-eyed cowering, Greg Timmermans portrays Ben, a withdrawn kid who is only comfortable in an online RPG. Indeed, Ben approaches the real world as a game, a strategy that enables him to navigate relentless bullying and social confusion. With furious, often flailing stylization, Balthazar shows us a cruel, overwhelming world through Ben’s eyes, while snippets of grave talking heads foretell that Something Bad will happen. Although Timmermans’ cartoonish presence never quite solidifies Ben’s profound agony, Ben X searingly engages as it follows his conflict with a pair of sociopathic thugs and his quest to meet up with an online romantic prospect (Laura Verlinden). Unfortunately, the film’s novel style and potent aura of despair unravel when Balthazar starts cutting corners for a twist conclusion that’s both implausible and cheaply moralizing.
The Minder (El custodio)
2006 (Argentina)
Director: Rodrigo Moreno
Gently simmering, almost minimalist, Rodrigo Moreno’s quietly absorbing The Minder is a film that demands profound patience. The narrative is simplicity itself: We follow Ruben (Julio Chávez), a bodyguard for a government minister (Osmar Núñez), as he goes about his daily routine. Shot entirely from Ruben’s perspective, the film captures with gnawing focus the dull and demeaning nature of living in another man’s shadow, forever hovering outside rooms and idling in cars. We learn of economic crises and family troubles through snatches of overheard conversation, but the backgrounding of these concerns highlights the film’s interest in Ruben’s personal angst. They footnote the film’s “action”–Ruben standing, Ruben waiting–and draw our gaze to Chávez’s wonderfully modulated performance. Moreno leavens the dreary routine with moments of private unpleasantness: Ruben’s flaky sister, his romantic loneliness, his talent for drawing (eventually paraded for the minister’s amusement). The Minder rewards sensitivity to fine narrative details and emotional subtleties. When the concluding twist arrives–don’t fret, one does arrive–it seems entirely fitting. There’s a bit of thematic rattle to the film, possessing as it does such wide open spaces for contemplation, but it only lightly diminishes The Minder’s astute cinematic vigor.
Days and Clouds (Giorni e Nuvole)
2007 (Italy)
Director: Silvio Soldini
There’s both a sickening voyeurism and an endearing, if unreasonable, hopefulness at work in Silvio Soldini’s brutal relationship drama Days and Clouds. With a sadist’s talent for stomach-flipping emotional turmoil and an eye for tragic entropy, Soldini captures a discomfiting portrait of a middle-age relationship in decline. The marriage of wealthy professionals Michele (Antonio Albanese) and Elsa (Margherita Buy) begins to disintegrate overnight when he reveals that he was fired two months ago. Out goes the townhouse and Elsa’s academic ambitions as an art historian, not to mention the couple’s fragile illusion of marital peace. Crushed by economic realities that are alien in their privileged experience–a meager lifestyle, long hours in demeaning jobs, a grubby flat–Michele’s apathy and Elsa’s resentment grow. Soldini doesn’t evoke much sympathy for the pair, especially Michele, but he exhibits a morbid fascination with the poisonous nature of denial and silly pride. While the story is fitful, even dreary at times, it possesses an ugly authenticity, reflecting the haphazard realities of mature lives in perpetual crisis. Ultimately, Days and Clouds compels in the manner of a horrific, slow-motion calamity, leaving us wondering if anyone will emerge from the wreckage intact.
Timecrimes (Los cronocrímenes)
2007 (Spain)
Director: Nacho Vigalando
Nacho Vigalando’s trippy, morbidly witty Timecrimes is a clever little achievement, demonstrating that an absorbing, competent science fiction film requires only four actors, three sets, and a familiar premise. Middle-aged couple Héctor (Karra Elejalde) and Clara (Candela Fernández) are just moving into a new home in the country when Héctor spies through his binoculars a naked woman lurking in the woods. He wanders off to investigate, leading to a uncanny sequence of events: an assault by a masked stranger, a flight into a series of bizarre buildings, and a journey back in time (albeit only a couple of hours). What follows is a spiral of events that loops in on itself with narrative tidiness and an air of portentous self-satisfaction, as in any time travel tale worth its salt. There’s a roteness to some of Timecrimes‘ allegedly shocking reveals, and Vigalando find the brightest sparks when he plays it fast and savvy, trusting our awareness of the genre’s conventions. Never mind that the moral ambiguity to the film’s conclusion–and perhaps the absence of any Twilight Zone twist–is a touch unsatisfying. The treat of Timecrimes is the thrilling, black humor that emerges from Vigalando’s tightly circumscribed ambition.