Victoria has received attention first because of its formal conceit – a single take used to present an ‘adventure’ covering 138 minutes in the early morning before dawn (roughly 04.30 to 07.00). The film’s narrative otherwise features a relatively familiar genre set-up drawing on two or three different repertoires and set in Berlin. Because the plot requires two separate sections – a slow build-up and then a rapid action sequence interspersed with moments of high drama and tension – we can experience the different effects that the ‘no cutting’ rule imposes.
In the first half of the film we see a young woman in a small basement club. After a few minutes she leaves the club and bumps into a group of four lads in their early twenties who are being refused entry. We learn that ‘Victoria’ is Spanish and speaks virtually no German and that the lads are from East Berlin – ‘real’ Berliners. Only one of them, ‘Sonne’ speaks English (which Victoria knows pretty well) and so they can converse while the other three are excluded. This sets up a second interesting constraint for the filmmaker Sebastian Schipper which enables him to play with the narrative information that the English language audience can get from the dialogue and subtitles. Only Sonne has the same access. Victoria is to some extent dependent on Sonne in order to understand what is happening and the other lads don’t know what he is telling her. For about an hour or so, the ‘no cuts’ rule means we have to follow the antics of the lads as they try to keep Victoria amused and Sonne in particular wants to keep her with them. This long sequence draws on various ‘youth’ narratives including late night shops, prowling police cars and rooftop drinking. I was reminded very much of La haine (France 1995) (except that Victoria’s presence changes the dynamic). Around the hour mark it starts to become clear that the lads have to do something that requires all four of them, so when one feels unwell Sonne is forced to try to persuade Victoria to be the fourth person. The audience suspects that this is a bad idea but soon the action revs up and we don’t really have time to think about what might be sensible. I should say also that the four lads are clearly distinguished with Sonne like a young and friendly Brando or Richard Dreyfus, while Boxer has a shaved head and seems a little out of control. Blinker and Fuss seem younger and less confident, but the four do seem likeable and I think we worry for them as much as for Victoria – we don’t think that they will do her any harm, but what they have to do as a task is another matter.
In the second half of the film everything happens fast and the camerawork often becomes blurry. The no cutting policy works very well in this context and we definitely feel part of the action, whereas in the first half it is tedious in parts. I think that the formal strategy is worthwhile. A conventional take on the same narrative would be shorter but might not enable the audience involvement in the action of the second half. I couldn’t help thinking of another very different film, Lola rennt (Germany 1998), which also featured a young woman on the Berlin streets desperately trying to do something for her boyfriend. Rather like with Lola rennt, the audience has to seek clues to really understand why characters behave in the way they do. The central question is why does Victoria allow herself to get mixed up with these lads? We have to think about a couple of dialogue exchanges in the script by Schipper and Olivia Neergaard-Holm. If I’ve got this right, she has only recently arrived in Berlin and got herself a job in a café close by. Later she explains to Sonne what she did in Spain and combined with other clues we should realise that she is a confident young woman who has given up something that was constraining and that she is looking for ‘adventure’. It’s a great performance by Laia Costa as Victoria, playing a few years younger than her real age. I don’t want to spoil enjoyment of the narrative so I’ll just point out that the issue of Victoria’s attitudes towards what happens and her sense of her own moral position come more into focus in the film’s concluding section.
Overall, I enjoyed the film and it raises interesting questions. I was quite surprised by the make-up of the audience at HOME with more of us old people than I might have expected for what definitely seems a younger person’s film. (I closed my eyes for much of the opening to the film with the strobe lights in the club – I just don’t understand clubbing.) The cinematographer is Sturla Brandth Grøvlen, Norwegian by birth, who lives and works mostly in Denmark. I also loved his very different work on Rams (Iceland 2015), the surprise arthouse hit in the UK. He also speaks English but not German. The music from Nils Frahm worked well with the camerawork. I picked up some comments about interviews with the director and commentaries on the DVD release in Germany? It seems that originally Victoria was a minor character and that the script didn’t really work until she became central. That makes sense. The (very) long take that encompasses the whole film narrative was recorded three times on successive mornings at 4.00 am which must have been a heroic effort for all concerned. The film is released by Curzon/Artificial Eye in the UK. I hope it is widely seen in cinemas since aspects of the narrative won’t work as well on a TV screen.
[I thought of adding the trailer, but it gives far too much away about the plot.]
Released in UK cinemas by Facet Film in April and now out on DVD and online from iTunes and other services, Exit is a perfect example of an East Asian art film. The writer-director Chienn Hsiang has a reputation as a gifted cinematographer and the film’s central character is played by Chen Shiang-Chyi, best known for her roles with the auteur Tsai Ming-liang. Exit is clearly a cinematographer’s film. Every shot is beautifully composed – perfect for the meaning of the narrative. At the same time this is an actor’s film. Chen is on screen in virtually every shot and she completely inhabits the character of Ling, a 45 year-old woman living in a block of flats in Kaohsiung, Taiwan’s second city. When her daughter (who doesn’t seem close to her mother) returns to university in Taipei, Ling is alone – her husband is working in Shanghai but never answers his phone. Ling is employed as a seamstress in a small clothing workshop but this too is moving to Shanghai. She spends her spare time sitting with her non-communicative mother-in-law in hospital. The older woman is waiting for a hip replacement operation.
Ling’s loneliness is compounded by the fact that she has been told that she is entering early menopause. Without support from husband or daughter, the loss of her job is doubly damaging. Ling responds by trying to find new points of contact. A friend gives her a dance instruction video and in hospital she develops a wordless relationship with an injured man recovering in the same room as her mother-in-law.
From this brief plot outline it’s clear that this isn’t a date movie and it’s also true that it isn’t a plot-driven drama. Instead it’s a meticulous character study constructed with great care. Chienn has said that the underlying theme of employment moving to China is a major social issue in Taiwan and that he wrote the story after one day sitting on a bus and noticing what he termed a ‘middle-aged woman’. He created the character as one of those ‘left behind’ by the move to Shanghai. The notion that at 45 you are more or less finished as a social being if you don’t have family around or employment is disturbing. How much is this a function of the representations of women in East Asian films? I think many 45 year-old women in the UK would find this an offensive description with its suggestion that 45 is ‘old’. It might be interesting to compare Ling’s character and her story to that of the older but more adventurous woman in The Postmodern Life of My Aunt (China 2006) by Ann Hui. But perhaps Ling is very recognisable for Taiwanese audiences? I don’t know the answer to that question but I do recognise a fine performance. Chen Shiang-Chyi is a beautiful woman who is able to move with the gait and expression of someone who is facing defeat and she conveys the emotional impact of her situation perfectly. She won two Best Actress awards in Taiwan and nominations in other festivals during 2014.
The way in which Ling is represented/presented in Exit raises questions about melodrama and realism/naturalism. Most reviews suggest that Chienn avoids melodrama and chooses realism. But I think that the cinematography and mise en scène are in a way ‘excessive’ in their presentation of the marginalised and isolated figure trapped in an environment. If I’d watched a sequence from this film without knowing anything about its production background I think I would still have placed it as Taiwanese based on my memories of Hou Hsiao-Hsien, Edward Yang and Tsai Ming-liang. As well as any cultural signifiers in the images it’s a matter of style and specifically the long take/long shot sequences. Here are a series of images demonstrating how Chienn and his camera operator Howard Hsu frame Ling in doorways, corridors, windows etc., emphasising her isolation and round corners and columns, from above or below suggesting her marginalisation:
It’s the tension between the isolation produced through the visual imagery and identification with the character via Chen’s performance which makes the film work for me. Most of the scenes use only diegetic sounds so the the single prominent use of non-diegetic music associated with the promise of the dance class has more resonance. I don’t want to spoil moments in the film so I’ll just mention that there are several interesting examples of ‘real’ issues about living in her flat that also represent symbolically Ling’s sense of being trapped and isolated.
Exit is perhaps an unfortunate English language title but I recommend the film as a character study and an excellent example of camerawork and mise en scène.
Facet Film website for further details. The DVD has interviews with both the director and leading actors.
UK trailer from Facet Film: