Walk on Water

We have tv friends and we have movie friends. Our tv friends watch tv series with us - we've watched Slings and Arrows , Episodes and now Bored to Death together, and they've all been enjoyable. We've had these friends for three years; it takes us awhile. We also love talking about the shows we like, and the next shows we're going to watch together.
Then we have our movie friends, and so far, we've watched five movies: Casino Royale, From Russia with Love (from them) and The White Balloon and Frankenstein (from us). It was there turn again this weekend, and, inspired by the Iranian descent of The White Balloon, our friends showed us Walk on Water, from Israel. P is right in saying that it is a movie that beggars categorization. It's certainly a drama, but also has to do with homophobia, Nazis, the Mossad spy agency of Israel and communes. And, the one thing everyone remembers about this film is the resurrecction of a long-dead Eurovision Song contest winner, Rockefeller Cinderella, an ear worm that rivals Mannah-mannah, 500 Miles and the Candy Man combined.
The plot is pretty simple - a Mossad agent who's had a trauma has been assigned to shadow the grandchildren of an alleged Nazi. If and when he learns information from them, he's supposed to alert his bosses who will probably kill him "before God does."
Like the White Balloon, this is definitely not a Hollywood spy story - there's no chases, or exciting music, or dramatic twists - it's a story that's told simply without straying and without true fantasy, though some would say the ending has fantastic elements (but don't all dreams?) Ironic, isnt't it, that a film called Walk on Water could be real! The more I watch movies from other countries - and in particular from the Middle East - the less I become excited about our American product. The last Hollywood movie I saw was Captain America; I'm looking forward to Godzilla, and I think I'm ready to see iconic American buildings being destroyed. I think this is probably a way for filmmakers to tap into the psyche of Americans who are barely a decade from getting used to the Twin Towers being destroyed, but just stop and think how many times you've seen the White House destroyed, or the Golden Gate Bridge. It's insulting, frankly. It's as if filmmakers don't trust us to feel anything except the most extreme destruction of our most treasured places. They sit in their offices and think of different ways to capture our heart, when all they have to do is think what it felt like to lose a lot of money that your parents gave you (it could be as much as 10 dollars!) My heart is no longer moved by the site of destroyed buildings; the best moment of the Avengers is the after-credit scene of them eating shawarma, sort of breathing heavy, sipping soda, not talking, thinking about all the creatures they'd destroyed. It was the most human, marvelous moment in the Marvel universe; not Tony Stark's house falling into the ocean, not Manhatten getting destroyed yet again by a maniacal alien.
The opposite conceit is what I call the "incredible normal" movies of Wes Anderson and Woody Allen, movies that pretend to be real, but are peopled by people I've never met. True, I've never met Woody Allen, and if I had, I would probably say, "Oh, now this all makes sense." Nor am I enamored of the realism of the French New Wave or the German Expressionist movement, or the dogme style, which is so "true" it rings false. This seems more like a one-off blog, so perhaps I'll come back to this at a later time.
But as you watch films, stop yourself and think "Come on. Is this true?" Regardless, people still go into the basement, they still walk down dark alleys and, according to movies, the only really good sex begins with being slammed against a wall, a floor, a table. It must be something hard, and there must be a struggle to get the clothes off.
So tedious.
Mike Leigh. Real and interesting. There, I named an English speaking director who takes reality seriously. Go see a Mike Leigh movie today.