GERHARD RICHTER PAINTING: IT'S HIS STRUGGLE, NOT OURS

There's a near absolute adherence to truth in advertising embedded in the title of Corrina Belz' new documentary, Gerhard Richter Painting.  It's a film almost entirely based in the observation of craft.  Belz' camera watches quietly and without emotion as the German master works his way through multiple applications and reapplications of color and texture, smeared and scraped across several massive canvases.  Those who work and live around the artist: his wife, gallerist and the odd friend or two from the past, appear briefly, temporarily interrupting his efforts, but the focus here is on Richter's communion with the works in progress as he dramatically morphs them over and over again, searching for an image that is neither preconceived nor, as he puts it, entirely unplanned.

At first, the filmmaking feels dispassionate, distant and without clear focus, soliciting a nervous discomfort when engaging with it.  But after a short while, it becomes clear that the approach mirrors Richter's own process, gaining clarity as it progresses.  As an interviewer, Belz pushes the painter to express that which he guards closely, moving into exchanges that feel psychoanalytical at times.  And the film excels in those moments when Richter loses his composure, like when he expresses doubt in the choices he's made on a particular canvas or while visiting the past through the display of old family photos.  Also quite revealing is the sight of the painter standing amongst his fans at the opening of a gallery retrospective of his portraiture; he bears the look of an animal searching for an escape from danger.

Richter's most at home in his studio, battling it out with the abstractions that he produces.  It's a tense thing to watch as Belz focuses the audience's attention on the painter's process of discovery.  Often times, we glimpse the appearance of forward momentum in a piece, only to watch helplessly as Richter smears another layer over the image with one of his large squeegees.  Yet, one has to allow Richter to be Richter in the end; after all, it's his struggle that is being fought here, not ours.

Gerhard Richter Painting plays at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Fri., April 6th at 7pm and Sat., April 7th at 4:30pm and 7pm.


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Portland International Film Festival preview day 15: OF LOVE & OTHER DEMONS & WHEN WE LEAVE

Hailing from Costa Rica, Of Love and Other Demons is the quite promising debut feature by director Hilda Hidalgo.  Working from a text by Gabriel García Márquez, Hidalgo crafts a deliberately paced film that entrances as much as it provokes.  As far as Márquez adaptations go, this one is especially appropriate in its translation of the great Columbian writer's evocative prose to equally fascinating imagery, especially in the haunting dream passages that are revisited several times during the film.

The story concerns Sierva, a young girl born of nobility who is bitten by a dog presumed to be rabid.  Given that it's set in colonial times, this turn of events ends up being tantamount to a prison sentence, as Sierva's condition is read by the local Catholic bishop as a possible case of demon possession.  Accordingly, she's locked up in a convent and put under the observation of a group of nuns and one sympathetic priest.

 

Simply told and visually stunning, Of Love and Other Demons is a film that absolutely deserves a larger audience.  Being that it's not one of the more hyped films at the festival, it would be easy to miss it in favor of more high profile films.  I'd suggest catching this modest piece now, since it could very well be the only chance to see it on the big screen in Portland.

Of Love and Other Demons plays at the Cinema 21 on Feb. 25th at 9pm and Feb. 26th at 2:30pm.

Sibel Kekilli is quickly emerging as one of the most talented actresses out of Germany.  After making her feature debut in Fatih Akin's Head-On, she was rewarded for her efforts with the best actress award at the German film awards.  With her most recently acclaimed performance in When We Leave, Kekilli has solidified the impression that she's an actress worth following, as well as capturing the best actress award in her native country for a second time.

In Feo Aladag's directorial debut, Kekilli plays Umay, a Turkish-German woman who flees the violence of her husband with her young son in tow.  Arriving at the doorstep of her parents home, all hopes that Umay will find solace in the arms of family are shattered as the strongly patriarchal traditions of her Turkish upbringing trump any concerns over her safety or happiness.

Pitch-perfect performances and Aladag's emphasis on characters over design blend to make When We Leave a completely engrossing piece of cinema, capturing a world that feels entirely lived-in and real.  There's only one moment near the very end of the film that feels even the slightest bit contrived.  But even that slight misstep can easily be forgiven when taking into account the power of the film as a whole.

When We Leave plays at the Whitsell Auditorium on Feb. 23rd at 8:30pm and on Feb. 26th at 8pm.