Exquisitely directed by Lebanese director Randa Chahal Sabbag, Le Cerf-Volant takes place on the border between Israel and Lebanon and tells the doomed love story between a beautiful young Lebanese girl and and Israeli Arab soldier standing guard on the border. Against her wishes, the beautiful Lamia is married off by her family to a young man over the border is Israel. In love with her soldier and rebelling against her fate, she finally returns to her home and an uncertain future- for a woman who has left her husband is effectively deemed a whore. Portraying her sexuality and aspirations with a great deal of sensitivity, Sabbag has sketched a beautiful portrait of one young Arab womans life. Furthermore, Sabbag also shows, in her depiction of other women in the community,  the moral strength- and vital vulgar humour- of Lebanese women. The scenes where the women communicate with friends and relatives on the Israeli side by megaphone are both heart-breaking and amusing. The film is endowed with a stirring soundtrack, including some powerful Arab popular music. Tinged with sadness and a delicate eroticism, Le Cerf-Volant is a lyrical, feminist film which tells a very personal human and political tale. It is a little gem.


Bu San (Goodbye Dragon Inn) by Tsai Ming-Liang

Watching this film is a painful yet extraordinary experience. I abhored and appreciated Bu San at the same time. In terms of narrative, it is an anti-film. Nearly nothing happens. There are only two brief exchanges of dialogue (respectively surrealist and banal).  Bu San indeed often goes against the very definition of cinema: the employment of moving images. There are numerous images in the film which remain immobile for long minutes. You could perhaps accuse the director- Tsai Ming-Liang- of sadism. However, with Bu San, the Chinese film-maker offers us a provocative and intriguing experience. Ironically and amusingly, this anti-film is about a particular cinema in Taipei about to close down forever. Ultimately, it is also an idiosyncratic study on the cinema itself. During Bu San we are shown several characters- the audience of a historical drama- a young gay Japanese man, an old man, a little boy, a middle-aged man and a prostitute as well as the handicapped female caretaker and the young male projectionist of the cinema. At the end of the film it is revealed that the young woman is in love with the projectionist. This is the only thread of narrative the director offers. The real star of the show however is the cinema itself. Dirty, damp and ugly, the cinema building is a monstrosity. Always nearly deserted, it is not Œcinema paradiso. Nevertheless, thematically, Bu San is about the human need for cinema. It is shelter for the marginalised, bizarre and lost. Particularly, it is a meeting place for gay men and a place of nostalgia for the old. Tsai Ming- Liang has created a surreal cinematographic place more seedy and melancholic than romantic. Like a Kafka of the seventh art, he also understands boredom and loneliness. Furthermore, Tsai is exploring the language of film. The shots are consistently beautifully composed. There is also even a reference to Eisenstein when the caretaker is observed suddenly enraptured by the action of the swords drama on screen. This montage of Œattractions momentarily packs a surprising power. Yet it is the very static aspect of the film which strikes us especially. The fixed image of the interior of the cinema we see at the end of the film is quite spell-binding. Tsais camera appears to be committed to discovering the truth of things and emotions. Ulimately, Bu San is a torture I would highly recommend.