Saturday, 22 October 2016

'The Donor': Film Review | Busan 2016

In this article we write a complete information hollywood 'The Donor': Film Review | Busan 2016. In this article we write a list of horer movies missons movies civil war movies based on jungle movies batman movies superman movies Warcraft  movies based on animal movies based on biography drama comedy adventure based on full action movie based on full romance movies based on adventure action and other type of movies details are provide in this article. A good collection of all fantastic movies 2016 are here



Top Hollywood 'The Donor': Film Review | Busan 2016:

Former Zhang Yimou assistant Zang Qiwu makes his debut with timely hot-button drama ‘The Donor’.
Second perhaps only to baby trafficking as a headline generator, organ sales—usually for grotesque mercenary reasons—have become big news in China, and Zang Qiwu uses that as his jumping-off point for a meditation on class, power and abuse in his debut feature, The Donor. Pivoting on a middle-aged man’s deal to sell a kidney to an affluent man that goes horribly wrong, The Donor would almost feel like satire if the gap between rich and poor in China weren’t so glaring, if people weren’t so willing to go to extremes to beat a system rigged against them and if human life hadn’t been reduced to a commodity to be bartered and sold.

With its gray, urban-grim aesthetic and soulless, ambient “soundtrack” (the trains rumbling by on the tracks above our hero signal the times are changing for better or worse), The Donor makes it clear we are far, far away from the funky-cool hutongs of Beijing or the glittering towers of Shanghai. This is the modern China gripped by economic sluggishness and social uncertainty—a space where at any minute the poor can be forced from their modest homes to make way for luxury housing. Commercial prospects for the film beyond Asia could be thin but the currency of the material and mythic horror surrounding organ sales should give the film a long life on the festival circuit.

The Donor begins by introducing Yang Ba (Ni Dahong), a motorbike repair shop owner barely making ends meet with a nagging (always) wife and a disinterested son, Bao, getting ready for highly competitive university entrance exams. Deciding he is going to put his boy through school somehow, Yang agrees to sell one of his kidneys to Li Daguo (Qi Dao). Daguo has a sister, Xiaohui, in renal failure, and he pays Yang RMB300,000 (about US$45,000) for his. But Yang is an older gentleman, and Xiaohui rejects the organ, leading Daguo to suggest Bao supply the next kidney. Yang vehemently opposes the deal, but Bao agrees, arguing he’ll get much more for his youthful organ. The whole mess leads Yang to radical action.

With his hangdog, world-weary face Ni is suitably rumpled and defeated as Yang, just as Qi is spit shined and handsome, perfectly dressed every time he appears. Credit writers Qin Haiyan and LI Xiaobing for avoiding the pitfalls of making Li a stereotypical bad guy, one reprehensible enough to make you root against him. Li is less evil or cruel as he is blind to his own arrogance and entitlement. He has money and power and sees no reason not to get what he wants. Similarly, Bao calls out his father for own double standards and is equally determined, perhaps more so, to get what he wants. But precisely because everyone is so reasonable there’s no room for fury or indignation that should go with trafficking in humanity, whole or in part.

Zang obviously learned from one of the best, and he demonstrates an assured, steady hand with material that could easily tip into an abyss of histrionics, but that doesn’t exempt him from missteps that make an otherwise engaging film wobble on its foundations. For every affecting, isolating image (Hua is often heard and not seen) and camera work, there is a pause that’s just a little too pregnant, providing only a modicum of dramatic punch but plenty of internal queries of “Is this scene over now?” The slow build that compels Yang to finally express genuine emotion occasionally plays like amateur theater; meticulous pacing comes off as painfully slow.


Technical specs on what is likely a modest budget are very strong, chiefly sound designer Li Danfeng’s atmospheric mix that manages to make wind, traffic and squealing tracks effortlessly lay the groundwork for both story and space, and production design by Zhang Jietao, who provides a palpable sense of disadvantage.

'Blue Velvet Revisited': Film Review | London Film Festival 2016

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Hollywood 'Blue Velvet Revisited': Film Review | London Film Festival 2016:

Peter Braatz’s unorthodox documentary brings to light long-buried archive footage shot behind the scenes on David Lynch's career-making psycho-thriller.
In 1985, German film student Peter Braatz contacted David Lynch requesting permission to document the director’s upcoming movie shoot in sleepy Wilmington, North Carolina. Lynch replied positively. “We are making an extremely low-budget film,” he warned Braatz, “so bring lots of money and help us out.”

The movie was Blue Velvet, a neo-noir fever dream that became a controversial cult classic, earning Lynch an Oscar nomination and cementing his reputation as a major new voice in American auteur cinema. Meanwhile, Braatz shelved his documentary project for decades, only recycling a fraction of the material for a short film. Now, decades later, he has finally assembled an audiovisual collage from six hours of Super-8 film and over 1,000 photographs taken on the shoot, most never published before.

Featuring an all-new soundtrack by veteran experimental rockers Tuxedomoon, among others, and stylish screen titles by David Bowie’s favorite album sleeve designer Jonathan Barnbrook, Blue Velvet Revisited is far from a conventional making-of documentary. Screening at the London Film Festival this week, Braatz’s impressionistic “meditation on a movie” would arguably play better in art galleries than movie theaters. But festival programmers and Lynchophiles will savor a spellbinding visual poem that takes us right inside the director’s most influential masterwork without unlocking its impenetrable secrets.

In sunny Wilmington, Braatz finds Lynch intensely engaged in the smallest artistic detail on set, but characteristically elusive about his film’s literal meaning. A boyish 40-year-old at the time, the director’s general manner is open and helpful and less self-consciously “Lynchian” than he would later become. He muses on his love of industrial landscapes, his youthful travels across Europe, his enthusiasm for meditation. Lightweight chatter, mostly, but his most striking rumination looks forward to a high-tech future in which filmmaking will be quicker and easier thanks to small portable cameras and computerized lighting effects. Three decades later, his dream sounds more like prophecy.

Braatz also grabs backstage soundbites from Blue Velvet castmembers including Dennis Hopper, Jack Nance and Isabella Rossellini, who would become Lynch’s partner for the next few years. On the cusp of a career-reviving comeback after a long battle with drink and drugs, Hopper is the most expansive, arguing that the young director is more of a surrealist than a cineaste. “David is dealing with his own subconscious,” he says, “his own way of looking at things, and it’s not emulative of anybody.”

Once again, these are not formal interviews conducted and edited with documentary rigor. Mostly they just serve as another layer of texture, small details on a wider canvas. In many cases, visuals and sounds are not even in sync, so interviews float over unrelated footage with a disembodied, dreamlike air. Music features much more prominently than speech, with Tuxedomoon’s woozy, jazzy, ambient soundtrack wafting the film along in place of any coherent narrative drive.

While Blue Velvet Revisited does not throw much fresh light on Lynch’s breakthrough film, it is a charmingly offbeat time capsule of the 1980s, and a disarmingly sweet backstage snapshot of a dark cult classic in the making. It is also a quietly mesmerizing sensory experience, with a distinctive rhythm and look that makes it a stand-alone artwork rather than a mimetic mirror of its subject. The real treasure here is Braatz’s rich archive of monochrome photographs, whose crisp formal beauty puts his scrappy Super-8 footage to shame. Damn fine pictures.