I'm busy

I'm enjoying my foreign film too much, so I don't have time to tell you about my life.

I'm going to cheat. For this weeks post, I'm giving you an essay I wrote for a class. It's about foreign films. I would change some stuff now, but I'm enjoying my movie. Enjoy.


Foreign Films

As soon as I mentioned it, I got a look. It was a look of I-fear-for-your-soul. The person then said, “But aren’t they all bad?” I didn’t roll my eyes—you have to give me credit for that. I just stopped talking. My acquaintance had the belief that all foreign films are bad. That’s not true.

I remember sitting down to watch my first foreign film and not knowing what to expect. I knew there would be subtitles—but subtitles I can handle. I watch American movies with subtitles all the time. I wasn’t expecting, however, how interesting the subtitles would be. The main pleasure of subtitles is watching the dialogue. After a few movies, you have a new appreciation for screenwriters.

An added pleasure of subtitles is seeing the differences and similarities in language between the foreign film and English. Seeing the words in English then hearing the foreign word, you begin to see the connections between the two languages. It’s fascinating. The latter pleasure is one abandoned in dubbed versions. Then, the only difference and similarity that the viewer is concerned about is the actor’s mouth and the actor’s words (often more a difference than a similarity).

I knew foreign films were supposed to have strong social messages. That phrase had always amused me. What social message isn’t strong? Aren’t American films filled with social messages? But when I watched my first foreign film, I understood what the phrase meant. In America, we like to couch our social messages, hide them in big explosions, big kisses, and big plots. I didn’t realize that other countries and other movies were so direct in what they wanted to say. Take M, the German film directed by Fritz Lang, and its multiple social messages. Are parents protecting their children? Are there crimes that the criminal should not be held punishable for? Is vigilante justice an acceptable course of action? None of these messages are hidden from the viewer. Viewers are forced to make a decision about how they think. I didn’t expect that.

Foreign films treat romantic relationships differently. In Il y a longtemps que je t'aime (I’ve Loved You So Long) Juliette and Michel are the couple, but their screen time together is limited. The movie instead chooses to follow Juliette and her sister, Lea, as they rebuild their relationship. In Bella Martha (Mostly Martha), the relationship between Martha and Mario seems to take center stage, until the viewer is distracted by the relationship between Martha and Lina, Martha’s niece. There is not a get-together moment in either of these films. There are no public professions of undying love, no kisses in the street, no explanation of misunderstandings; there is just a relationship. Juliette and Michel find peace in an art gallery; Martha and Mario drive to retrieve Lina. It’s quiet.

My greatest surprise and greatest joy of foreign films are their beauty. The night I watched Les quatre cents coups (The 400 Blows), I was not in the mood for a serious film. I quickly realized it didn’t matter what I was in the mood for—this movie demanded my attention. The cinematography was incredible, the dialogue was intense, and the movie was beautiful. So beautiful. When I got to the shot, that one shot, that famous, important, first-time-ever zoom into a freeze frame shot—I missed it. When a friend asked me about it, I remembered the moment, and I remembered the feeling, but I didn’t remember the shot—all I remembered was the overwhelming beauty.

I feel bad sometimes because I ask too much of foreign films. The problem is that foreign films have never disappointed me—and I hope they never do.