The State Cinema takes me all around the world. In recent months I visited Spain, Italy and South Korea. One film had me marvelling at the beauty of its small moments, another had me bemused as to why it became its homeland most popular in many a year and the other, decidedly, had me blushing.

Bemusement – Think a cross between Forest Gump and Karl Pilkington and then you have Checco Zalone – evidently a character who has reached a legendary status in Italy akin to a Norman Gunston or a Basil Fawlty. Checco (Luca Medici) is a slacker. He’s employed by the public service which, in his country, means a cruisy existence for life. All that’s expected of Checco is to stamp a few forms, but the job is choc full of generous entitlements such as ample vacations, leave loadings and a comfortable retirement. When the government comes down heavily – by Italian standards – on this cushy existence, Checco finds he’s the only one in his region who doesn’t meet the liberal criteria for staying on. Although he’s not the greatest workaholic going around, he’s no fool and he’s not going to make it easy for the powers to be to make him go. Eventually they decide to send him to the worst postings imaginable to force him to resign, but the man always comes up trumps. That is until he is sent to an Italian research station in the Arctic Circle and he falls in love. Then he gets a taste of the real world – life in no nonsense Norway. This soon sees him scurrying back to his land of sunshine and lassitude. In the end, the constant battle against authority becomes too much and he ends up, where else, but in deepest, darkest Africa about to become a meal for cannibals. As to how this happens? Well, you’ll just have to see this offering.

As with New Zealand’s ‘The Hunt for the Wilderpeople’, this movie has been an unexpected hit in Oz, particularly in Melbourne with its large population of Italian heritage – but that’s nothing compared with its popularity in its country of origin. ‘Where Am I Going’ (‘Quo Vado’) this year, in terms of attendance, has booted its nearest rival, ‘Star Wars: The Force Awakens’ out of the ball park there. As well, ‘Checcomania’ has been a boon for the art houses world wide.

As for me, yes, it was moderately amusing and there were some delightful aspects to its zaniness. I loved the bit where Checco attempts to teach his Nordic partner’s son to play soccer Italian style – that is, to fall to the ground and writhe in agony at the drop of a hat. We all know about that.

Last November the Italian region of Umbria advertised ninety-six life time positions in its public administration – and received 32000 plus applications. Will Italy overcome the ‘fannullone’ (slacker) issue in its work force? At least ‘Where Am I Going’, by taking the mickey out of it all, seems to have set some wheels in progress. But I think you really need to be Italian to get the full hilarity of this from director Gennaro Nunziante.

Blushes – Oh dearie me. Now I know this movie was R-rated – so be warned. But for most of its length I did actually wonder as to why. In its final stanzas I was left to wonder no more – and how. Its final sex scene was like nothing I’d seen before in a cinema. It was, to my mind, beyond erotic and bordering on pornographic. Or maybe, as I have related in several pieces of late, I am just not as worldly as I imagined. This certainly tested me. I was most uncomfortable watching it – relieved when the two interlocked bodies broke apart and departed the screen. It warrants the rating – and then some.

‘The Handmaiden’ is a take on Sarah Waters’ ‘The Fingersmith’, bought to the small screen in a mildly juicy bodice-ripper fashion back in 2005 by the BBC. Here it gets the Oriental treatment from Korean director Park Chan-wook, best known in Western cinema for ‘Stoker’. This is, like the original novel, a story told from three perspectives. The first is from the fingersmith (pick-pocket) herself, played by Kim Tae-ri, sent to fleece an heiress of her wealth by her Svengali, Count Fujiwara (Ha Jung-woo). The second installment is his take on proceedings, followed by that of the rich kept woman herself (Kim Min-hee). The Count is out to seduce her, dispose of the fingersmith and live richly ever after. As each stage progresses the director ups the erotic wattage until, well, it spills over.

The movie ducks and dives time-wise so much that, for this watcher, it was difficult to get a handle on – especially as he also had trouble at times differentiating between the two leading actresses, once the story was underway, when they weren’t on screen together. Visually the film is a feast for the senses, gorgeously put together, set at the time when the Japanese controlled the peninsula just before the last great war. It is a thriller of sorts, but for many, as far away from the pace expected of the genre as it is possible to be. And, I repeat, it is very, very sexy.

Beauty in the Small Moments – Two actors, Emma Suárez and Adrianna Ugarte, play the same woman – at different stages of a life. This film displays the great Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar at his best, manipulating his story through various time periods. These days this auteur is regarded as one of the world’s most adept with the medium, responsible for such offerings as ‘Volver’, ‘Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown’, ‘High Heels’ and ‘The Skin I Live In’ – to cite a few. He adds another with the very fine ‘Julieta’. The central figure, initially a woman of a certain age (Suárez), is preparing to leave Madrid to start a new life with her lover in Portugal. Her plans are dissembled when she bumps into a friend of her long estranged daughter. News of her is so momentous that Julieta immediately cancels her plans. She wants to be in place if said daughter finally decides to make contact. It doesn’t occur, but what we do get is the back story as Ugarte takes over for some of the narrative. Here we are presented with the explanation for the no-speakies.

This is milder Almodóvar than some of his other productions, though it still abounds in the symbolism of colour and object. An example is the annual birthday cake that Julieta makes for her daughter – and then disposes of when she is again a no show. And there’s a truly beautiful moment when said daughter Antía (another role played by two actresses) dries her young mother’s hair. What emerges from the towel is then the older Julieta. Some critics have expressed a preference for a change to the ending to make it tidier – as per Hollywood mainstream – but I felt it was just fine as is. We suspect it will all be all happy ever afters – and that is enough.

And for me this Iberian outing was the pick of the bunch. It is a considered, intelligently structured movie with two actresses shining as the same persona, battling with the curve-balls life throws at her, but with the promise of light at the end of the journey. It is also garnished throughout with those delectable moments of beauty making this cinematic experience one to relish.

Trailer for ‘Where Am I Going’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEL03EMIVZk

Trailer for ‘The Handmaiden’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKpZLtt4Ctg

Trailer for ‘Julieta’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoi4dbpqZmg

There was an audible intake of breath in the audience, even a nervous titter or two. They were totally unexpected, those opening images – but they shouldn’t have been. They were so very, very young when they started out. But then we – and the audience was all around my age – we were also so very, very young once. It was almost as if in unison there was a collective posing of the question as to where all the decades had gone?

It’s now been fifty years since John, Paul, George and Ringo hung up their guitars/drum sticks – at least as far as touring was concerned. Technology just couldn’t keep up with these guys. They had not the means to raise their music above the level of their teen dominated audience’s constant screaming. By the end they couldn’t even hear themselves playing on stage. Ringo kept the beat to the wiggling of John’s bum. Shea Stadium, the final straw, was just ludicrous. 50,000 plus crammed into it with only minute amps facing them from around the perimeter. The music had to be piped through the tannoy system – their music therefore became a barely recognisable tinny squeak. The Beatles may have been the first to use stadiums as venues – but for bands to be seen and heard effectively in them was still a few years down the track. Then there was the issue that their music was starting to push the envelope as to what could be reproduced on stage. George Martin was able to replicate what was happening in the minds of Lennon and McCartney on vinyl, but playing it live was another matter. Besides, the financials had changed from when they started out. Touring now wasn’t their sole cash cow. But in the end, they were simply over it. Drugs were also taking their toll and gun-happy America was no place to be once Lennon had made his off the cuff remarks about Jesus and fame. After their final US concerts they retreated for a few more gigs in the UK before hunkering down with Martin to change the world with Sgt Peppers.

And just when we thought that all that could possibly be said about the Fab Four has been uttered, along comes Ron Howard to give us the happy days of a gem that is ‘The Beatles: Eight Days a Week–the Touring Years’.

I was seemingly aeons ago, but I can still remember my first encounter with the phenomena that was this foursome. There were the quartet of lads, not all that much older than myself, dressed in Edwardian swimsuits cavorting on a pallid English beach. It was on the cover of a magazine in a Burnie newsagent – I have a vague recollection it may have been ‘TV Week’, although I had yet to encounter them on the small screen. It wasn’t long before that happened. But back then, being the youthful stickler for correctness, I was perplexed how they could get the spelling wrong – beAtles? The first song I can recall hearing was ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ as I walked beside the sea on North Terrace, clutching my little transistor radio, tuned in to 7BU. The sound of it halted me in my tracks. It was so fresh and alive to my ears. And soon they were gobsmacking people world wide. By my discovery of them the Beatles had an unstoppable momentum up as they dominated the charts, bringing in their wake the Liverpool Sound and the British Invasion. I was soon arguing with my friends as to the merits of the Kinks and the Animals, my favourites, compared to the Stones, or indeed, the Beatles. I started buying their singles on Parlophone, later Apple. The first LP I ever purchased was the aforementioned game-changer. But that came after the years Howard covered in what obviously was a labour of love for him. It shows. The documentary sparkles with the wit that came naturally to the foursome; their talent live and of course, the magic that was their song-smithery. We all know classics such as ‘Yesterday’ and ‘Imagine’ are virtually immortal, with Lennon/McCartney up there with Dylan, Leonard Cohen and Brian Wilson as the lyricists for our generation. But the offering from the acclaimed director tells some stuff that has also been largely forgotten.

Mr Howard put in a world wide call-out for fresh Beatles material. Ordinary punters did have means to record back then in the dark ages, so some hitherto unseen footage was available to the film-maker. Some of the quality from a few of their very early performances is remarkable – and we are able to appreciate just how tremendous they were live before they were drowned out by the screeching of over-excited young ladies. But there is little joy present for them, or us, towards the termination of their touring. Their constantly being in the public spotlight was taking its toll. You can see it in their faces; sometimes in the quality of their live playing, albeit in difficult circumstances to say the least. Those last American gigs were not only a physical challenge – they played with their minds as well, along with what they were imbibing. They were spent.

What has been largely overlooked was the role they played in de-segregating the South in the US by refusing to play for an all-white audience in Jacksonville. In these parts it was unheard of for negros to sit alongside white bread Dixielanders, but the Liverpudlian quartet made it happen. The two remaining take us through their decision making process for how their flaunting of what was accepted and their insistence on overturning the rules came about. Another eye-opener, for our era when smokers are almost treated as lepers, is just how prevalent it was back then – and Howard has a unique way in making his point on that so we don’t miss it.

RH’s use of talking heads is fairly limited but always appropriate. Some contributions are thoroughly thought provoking, none the more so than Whoopi Goldberg’s. She’s never been a favourite of mine, but here she shines as she reminiscences about growing up as Beatlemania conquered her country – its pull being universal.

I love it that my beautiful daughter has always fully embraced the Beatles ever since she was a small girl. No doubt she will recount their contribution to a new generation as our beloved Tessa Tiger grows older. She can already sing ‘Yellow Submarine’.

So thank you Ron Howard for giving another Beatles inspired gift to the world in a period when many yearn for simpler times, even though, back then, life wasn’t always so simple for these four lads from Old Blighty. And for taking us back to when we all felt we’d be ‘forever young’.

Movie Trailer – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mj0KLrrl2rs

Recently, in Melbourne, I was at that city’s eponymous university visiting the Ballieu Library for its mini-exhibition, as it turned out, on the ground floor – ‘TeeVee in the Sixties’. Some great stuff, but too little in scope. Upstairs, though, I noticed they were advertising another showing – to commemorate four hundred years since the birth of Shakespeare. Duly I mounted those steps and entered the several rooms devoted to it. Now this was more like it – something to get one’s teeth into. Unfortunately, due to time constraints, I didn’t really do it justice. It was a rushed, cursory appraisal but I was impressed. I was particularly taken by some of the old editions of his works dated way, way back. And the Bard featured prominently in ‘The Carer’, a movie viewed since my return. It had some faults, but overall I enjoyed it immensely.

Now I’ve never been a great fan of the Elizabethan playwright’s works, but, of course, his legacy to the language I scribble in is immense. And his words form a fair amount of the script for this offering.

You see, the great Shakespearean actor Sir Michael Gifford is dying – but he’s not going easily into the night. His Parkinson’s is really starting to take hold and he is in need of constant monitoring. However, he is a bugger to care for, thus the quick turnover rate for the girls hired to do so. Gifford is in no mood to consider that, indeed, he is, in a word, finished. Enter the latest in a long line, a would be acting student in the form of Dorottya. Of Magyar background, she is a dab hand at mangling the language. But she does love her Shakespeare, with the added advantage possessing detailed knowledge of her new patient’s interpretations of the great man’s classic plays. Austrian born actress Coco König shines as the carer, gradually wooing the old fellow with charm and her recall of ancient movies. The rest of the supporting cast – Emilia Fox as his frosty daughter; the always sumptuous Anna Chancellor as his secretary/one-time lover and Karl Johnson as the chauffeur/former dresser – are an attractive ensemble and more than adequate.

But this is Brian Cox’s show. The Scottish actor, sprouting Shakespeare at the drop of a hat, is, in turn, pompous, curmudgeonly, horrid and defeated by aspects of the disease – particularly when he loses control of his bowels. There is no gloss presented here about the downside of ageing in the hands of an affliction that isn’t going to let go.

It is, admittedly, a fairly predictable pathway that Hungarian director János Edelényi takes us on and the final stanza does grate somewhat. The movie perhaps takes its cues from the French sensation of a few years back,’The Intouchables’, but is less life affirming.

Paul Byrnes, writing for The Age, had a great line to sum-up his review perfectly, so I present it as my final word on ‘The Carer’ as well. He says that, between Dorottya and Sir Michael, ‘A kind of love develops, and the movie is never so unsubtle as to state it. Cox’s timing throughout is superb – a comic masterclass that gives way to a temper worthy of Lear. It’s easy to enjoy his playing to the back of the theatre, as she (König) works the front row.’

Trailer for the movie = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AC8box-kS9c

Julian has a problem – what to do with Truman, his canine companion for many a long year. He has to find exactly the right home for his ageing pooch – not the most Hollywood of dogs by any stretch of the imagination. It won’t be easy.

A huge hit at the Spanish Oscars and applauded at film festivals the world over, ‘Truman’ has now been released in Oz to generally critical acclaim. Taking a leaf from our own ‘Last Cab to Darwin’ and the glorious French-Canadian affair ‘The Barbarian Invasions’, this movie is a celebration of life when there isn’t much of it left.

Tomás (Javier Cámara) has travelled from Montreal, somewhat reluctantly, to Madrid to say final farewells to his terminal mate Julián, played by the wonderful Ricardo Darín. These two reconnect as Julián’s world as journeyman actor is shutting down. First task is the dog – maybe the lesbian couple will be suitable, or perhaps the predatory widow. A home just has to be found. There’s a journey to be made to Amsterdam for his son, studying there, has yet to be informed of the full extent of the cancer rampant in Julián’s body. There’s the conversation to be had with Truman’s long suffering vet over canine psychology and he has to come to terms with being fired from his job for all the right reasons. There’s also those friends to be dealt with who choose to ignore, rather than attempt to come up with all the right words. It’s all so touchingly done, but in the end this is a tale of two men trying to find common ground and the fullness of friendship in difficult circumstances. Both Cámara and Darin are superb in their roles – a glance between them says a hundred words and only the flintiest of hearts could fail to be moved by this gem, even if it’s not deliberately played for tears. The ailing one faces his demise with a stoic and matter-of-fact mien as he makes a final decision regarding his last weeks.

The only jarring note came with the sex scene that seemed, to this viewer, to be out of kilter and totally unnecessary. The deep distress felt, by his two main mates, towards the end, could have been communicated in a better way than getting their kit off and going for it. But to counterpoint that, the ending is simply perfect as Truman’s future is finally sorted.

As our nation deals with the thorny nettle of assisted death, ‘Truman’ should be in the mix, together with the aforementioned movies and that other recent release ‘Me Before You’, to assist in focusing our views. ‘Truman’ is a film that will linger.

Movie trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tzQof1453M

The first question that comes to mind, after we’ve had a taste of ‘Maggie’s Plan’, is ‘Did Woody write this?’ The answer is no – the screenplay was composed by its director, Rebecca Miller – but it certainly has Woody writ large all over it – no bad thing in my view. You half expected him to appear at any time. I grant you Woody Allen can be an acquired taste for some – but good Woody I just adore. Some of his oeuvre of Jewish idiosyncrasy, though, can veer towards the borders of tedium. This I would rate as a tad above mid-range on the Woody scale. Its no classic, but never remotely approaches tedium.

Maggie wants a bub, but is sans partner. As the film opens, she is investigating a stoner pickle maker as a potential donor. Now it took me a while to figure out where I’d seen this guy before. Then it dawned on me – Travis Fimmel, our lusty chief Viking, in a very different role. He was great, despite his sadly limited screen time. I half expected Maggie to end up with him, but I am not giving the answer to that away. His performance, along with Bill Hader’s voice, is one of the movie’s quirky treats. Throwing in Julianne Moore, playing an icy Danish academic, complete with intriguing accent, means we have all the ingredients for what’s described as a ‘screwball comedy’. And, yep, there are a few chortles to be had as the eponymous plan is put in place, but its hardly lol stuff.

I will never know now what it’s like to be a panty-melter and I sure figure I never was one – not, I think, would I particularly want to be if Ethan Hawke, in his guise as Maggie’s love interest, John, is any example of that so-called class of men. He’s another academic, unhappily married to Ms Moore’s character Georgette, so he falls in love with Maggie, quickly extricating himself from his co-habitation with the preoccupied, distant older woman and his kids. But, as a life partner to Maggie and the child they make together, he’s no great shakes and our heroine soon tires of his self-centred nature. Plus, she’s become a dog’s body for him and his former wife. It’s just not on – thus a conception of a plan – which, I admit, stretches it a little in terms of believability.

I can’t say I didn’t enjoy my time spent in the company of the ensemble living complicated 21st Century lives in NYC. Greta Gerwig is always eminently watchable as our unadorned heroine, reprising her schtick from the delightful ‘Frances Ha’. And my views on the glorious Ms Moore are also well known. Ethan Hawke is intentionally frustrating in his John persona and it’s no wonder Maggie soon wants to be shot of her panty-melter. So if Woody Allen is also your thing, give ‘Maggie’s Plan’ a spin on your DVD player, or whatever, sometime soon.

Trailer for Maggie’s Plan = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbJ49IUyCcA

Records were broken with the rain that partially drowned our island a few weeks back and now, in this new week, again there’s another deluge happening up north – if not so devastating as the one that hit in early June – thankfully. Here in the south the forecasters are telling us there will be snow almost to sea level in an Antarctic blast coming up from the Great Southern. With a trip to Mangoland beyond our budget this year, my lovely Leigh and I sought a substitute. There, in one of their toasty cinemas at the State, we discovered a place where it seemed it hadn’t rained for all eternity, or so it looked. And its heat could cook eggs on a bald head. It was only a speck on a map in the great expanse of the Outback, was Goldstone, but there was more action going on there than in the whole of Midsomer county.

And that great expanse of Namib-like desert nothingness was one of the main features of this exercise. It was magnificent. Obviously director Ivan Sen was able to extract a fair amount of mesmerising cinematography from his drones. Just simply fantastic. Gee, our country is big when you see it portrayed from that vantage point on the screen. ‘Goldstone’ is a sequel of sorts to Sen’s ‘Mystery Road’ – and it’s a mystery to me as to why I did not see it on release, given that the follow up so appealed. I’ll be hunting it out at the local video store sometime soon.

This latest one is a ripper yarn featuring David Wenham as a nasty-pasty and Jacki Weaver as the fly-bitten, sun-backed, tin-shedded hamlet’s mayor – although why such a miniscule place would need one, complete with mayoral robes, is anyone’s guess. She, however, was up to her neck in some very non-mayoral graft and corruption. For you see, just over the horizon, was a giant gold mine, managed by Wenham’s character Johnny. He’s a slimy piece of work, immersed in malfeasance along with our Jacki. The two were involving the local tribal elders (David Gupilil and Tom E Lewis) in their machinations; machinations that included trafficking Asian prostitutes to keep the fly-in miners from missing home too much. This group of profoundly unhappy young women included, as May, the gorgeous Michelle Lim Davidson of Utopia fame.

Aaron Pedersen was tremendous as the alcohol-addled, squinting and very, very sweaty detective, Jay Swan, assigned to track down one of the Asian girls who has somehow turned up in a missing person’s report. He forms an uneasy bond with the local copper (Alex Russell) who, hitherto, had been turning a blind eye to most of the wrongdoing around his patch. As they unravel the nasty behaviours going on with the vested interests, a fair amount of mayhem ensues, climaxing with a shootout to rival what went on at the O.K. Corral.

A couple of critics have scribed that the acting leaves something to be desired, but, apart from a few clunky moments, I thought it was all pretty spot on. Some have also stated it’s a little tardy in taking off. I don’t think this had any claims to ‘Mad Max’ style mayhem – I thought its languor in the early scenes was partly what sucked one into its goings on. We all know that life in the Red Centre moves at a slower place than it does for citified folk. Ivan Sen infuses it all with a burnished light, a bit of Dreamtime spiritualism mixed in with a tad of ‘Wake in Fright’ style Outback seediness. For a while Leigh and I forgot about the wintry chill outside. I was quite reluctant to leave ‘Goldstone’s’ world. Yes, it was bloated with odd bods and dregs escaping society but, when our hero meandered off into the sunset, I inwardly mourned as the credits came up, for then I had to face an icy gale blowing down Elizabeth Street.

That alone helped this movie being up there with ‘A Month of Sundays’ as the best of the local product, so far, for ’16.

Trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWbk3-gEBRU

I’m in love. I’m in love with a certain part of Ms Emilia Clarke’s anatomy. She has a wonderful pair. Is it any wonder she was Esquire’s sexiest woman alive for 2015? In the photo-shoot they did to celebrate that gong, as well as in her role in the juggernaut that is ‘Game of Thrones’, we’ve had ample opportunity to peruse her glorious anatomy in various degrees of disrobing – and most beguiling it all is too. But I’m in love with a specific component and they come as a pair. They seem to jiggle every which way, almost of their own volition. During her latest release, on the big screen at the State, they had me mesmerised in awe. To be quite honest, I never noticed them in her blonde persona on ‘GofT’ as she caroused around the countryside with her dragons – maybe I was distracted. But they first came to my orb, as a sort of foretaste, when Graham Norton interviewed her on his show spruiking the release I viewed, ‘Me Before You’. I couldn’t wait to see more of them in free flow and this movie certainly delivered. The camera was repeatedly focused on them – and so was I. I fully expected them to be recognised, in the end credits, as a character in the narrative in their own right. I know, as Leigh and I step up to watch the latest season of Game of Thrones, I’ll pay far more attention to them for, you see, I am madly besotted – besotted with Ms Clarke’s incredible eye-brows. They are a work of art.

As for the movie itself, the Age’s Jake Wilson and I are at odds. The banner of his review proclaimed, ‘Losing the Will to Watch’ – and he did. He clearly wasn’t at all enchanted by those eyebrows, nor much else about this vehicle. He awarded it a paltry one and a half stars. But in my experience of it, when I could concentrate on watching was actually happening as far as the storyline was concerned, I enjoyed it immensely. Initially the brown brows of the brunette version of the sultry Clarke had me so enthralled I was oblivious to much else, but the story itself became more engrossing as time wore on. Being PG there was no disrobing whatsoever, but the kooky character (Lou Clark without the e) still exhibited a wholesome allure with the eyebrows working overtime. Sam Claflin played Will Trainor, the object of her affections; a quadriplegic with a death wish. Initially employed by his ultra-rich parents as a companion/maid, of course love develops and seemingly the will to live is returning to Will. It’s not that simple though. I appreciated the role of ‘GofT’ alumni Charles Dance as his father and ‘Downton’s’ Brendan Coyle as Lou’s. Some have had qualms with this movie, stating that it flies in the face of the notion that disabled lives are no less worth living, but Will’s reasoning seemed sound enough to me. Some have also had scruples that he was played by an able bodied actor.

I realised, that in watching this, my emotions would be attacked, but remarkably, for me, I remained composed throughout. The only discordant note in it was the overly treacly music selected to accompany particularly emotive scenes – yuk. The movie would have been enhanced by less intrusive choices.

The Game of Thrones series just released is soon to grace our small screen here by the river and I will be paying particular attention to those eyebrows this time around. I suspect, though, that such is the nature of this world wide phenomena, that their mobility and distractabliliy will not be so much to the fore.

Trailer = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0MmkG_nG1U

Let us embark on a jaunt around the Med. Now I doubt very much if I’ll ever do it again myself in real life, but I can dream and every so often, totter along to the State and view cinematic offerings from that part of the world. And I have done exactly that this past month – gone all European.

The best of the trio I espied, to my way of thinking, came from the mid-Med – from Italy. The movie in question has had a mixed response from critics out here, but ‘God Willing’ was a smash hit in its home country and I loved it. It opens with a family gathering together for an important announcement from the son, Adrian (Enrico Oetiker), whom they strongly suspect is about to announce that he is gay. But instead of coming out of the closet he wants to go back in – in the form of a confessional. All are stunned when he reveals his plans to join the priesthood. Dad (Marco Giallini) is particularly mortified. After all, the remote and non-empathetic surgeon expected the lad to follow his brilliant footsteps into the medical profession. Great subterfuge needs to be entered into to prevent such a foolish decision from actually taking place. What the pompous doctor gets up to in achieving his aim is a joy to behold. A hipster priest and a dullard of a son-in-law add to the fun. Many have considered the ending remiss in not completely tying it all together, but perhaps that is the point. Writer/director Edoardo Falcone gives the audience such a good time with his lightness of touch in the bright Mediterranean sunshine of this production.

Across we go now to the eastern end of the briny that divides continents. In fact, even a tad further – to the shores of the Black Sea. A Turkish offering, from director Deniz Gamze Ergüven, also delivers a lightness of touch, but still includes the deep and meaningfuls on a serious topic in that part of the Muslim world – the treatment of young girls. That ‘Mustang’ is Ms Ergüven’s debut project is a credit to her with such sensitive material. Despite the pronouncements of the Turkish leader, this is a more westernised nation than those further east, but still, in the remoter areas, family honour is all. So when the five daughters go romping, fully attired, in the surf with some likely lads the local snitch informs their grandmother and uncle – the girls’ carers as their parents have died. Life, therefore, as they knew it is about to change. First come the virginity tests. They, proving negative, do not allay the shame so they are virtually placed under house arrest – with renovations ensuing to make escape mighty difficult. But these feisty young ladies don’t take it lying down. They still find ways to circumvent the additions to make bids into the wider world for freedom. So the next solution to erase their depravity and to reestablish their good standing is marrying the girls off. This works out well for one, but for the others the prospect is unbearable, so wilder escape plans are hatched. It is not helped that the uncle is regularly abusing one of their number – with a horrible outcome. Can those remaining have the wherewithal to put their plans for permanent escape into action? The harrowing run for it is the climax of the film as it turns decidedly darker in tone

The fine young actresses, playing the girls, sparkle in their roles and I read that it was made outside of Turkey because of its subject matter. It sure takes the lid off the generational differences in that country on the fraught question of the place of women in the society. It is a state in transition, the trouble is we do not know yet which route Turkey will take. Despite all this, love still abounds in ‘Mustang’. It deserved its nomination for an Oscar earlier in ’16.

Lastly we head back west, to France, to meet one of the dourest of characters to ever (dis)grace the screen. Pierre (Stanislas Merhar ), in Philippe Garrel’s ‘In the Shadow of Women’, with partner, Manon (Clotilde Courau), are struggling documentary makers. She is very much in his shadow – thus the title. It all reminded me of the kitchen sink dramas of another era, filmed, as it was, in grainy black and white. The only flicker of feeling in this brief (72 minutes) production came at the end as the credits rolled. Pierre can’t resist an affair with another film worker and when Manon follows suit, he is miffed to the max and demands she cease all contact with her lover. She duly follows instructions, but he becomes paranoid, stalking her around their unappealing part of Paris. Of course he feels it’s his right to continue to bed his lady on the side. There is little love involved and why on earth would another woman be attracted to Pierre was beyond me – just pure carnality I suspect. There is zilch of your typical French sexiness involved with this and the main characters have zilch to recommend themselves to us. Despite its joylessness it was popular with the punters in its country of origin – but it did nothing for me.

So that completes our little jaunt – one movie to cherish, one to mull over and one that will be forgotten in a nano-second. C’est la vie.

Trailer ‘God Willing’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyqSHKH-E4c

Trailer ‘Mustang’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rU9JAN8LtIk

Trailer ‘In the Shadow of Women’ = https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OiOnxv30iHk