[PARADISE: LOVE screens Friday July 5th at 6:45 pm and Sunday July 7th at 1:30 pm at the Cleveland Museum of Art Morley Lecture Hall.]
Review by Charles Cassady, Jr.
Imagine if Disney took the opportunity to copyright the LION KING catchphrase "Hakuna matata." Would that make Ulrich Seidl's shockingly graphic PARADISE: LOVE, in which the phrase recurs, a kind-a sort-a relation? You all know those movie urban-legends, that the smoke in LION KING spells out naughty words, or that Simba and Nyala do the nasty onscreen?
Review by Charles Cassady, Jr.
Imagine if Disney took the opportunity to copyright the LION KING catchphrase "Hakuna matata." Would that make Ulrich Seidl's shockingly graphic PARADISE: LOVE, in which the phrase recurs, a kind-a sort-a relation? You all know those movie urban-legends, that the smoke in LION KING spells out naughty words, or that Simba and Nyala do the nasty onscreen?
[Me, my complaint
about LION KING always went like this: voice of Mufasa was the proud
African-American icon James Earl Jones. Voice of his son Simba
was...can't-get-much-paler Matthew Broderick. Wassupwidat? Maybe Uncle Scar was
right to distrust the kid after all. Come on, Disney, you can't tell me no
other voiceover actor of color was available! You should have asked Julie
Taymor to recommend someone, at least. Okay, another rant entirely]
Point is,
PARADISE: LOVE would get an NC-17 for its male and female nudity and sexual
themes if rated by the MPAA, most definitely and deservedly. The movie is the
opener of a loosely-linked "Paradise" trilogy by Austrian filmmaker
Seidl. I've so far seen it and the followup, PARADISE: FAITH, but I believe I
get the idea. Controversial themes, tackled with austere mise-en-scene that is
all long and medium shots, no closeups, and no mood music. The cast is a mix of
professional thespians and non-actors, and dialogue in the storyline was
largely improvised as the narrative was shot in sequence, lending the painful
material a docu-realism. Really, if you took away Seidl's tripod and made his
cameras more grainy and digital you'd have another round of Dogme95
certificates to give out.
[Am I the only
one left who even talks about Dogme95 anymore? I don't think even Lars Von
Trier talks about Dogme95 anymore (it's probably best for Lars Von Trier is he
doesn't talk much about anything, really). Maybe if I keep being the only one
who talks about Dogme95 anymore, Dogme95 will eventually come back into vogue and
suddenly I'll be cutting edge. I guess this is another rant entirely again,
sorry]
The
untypical-for-Hollywood heroine of PARADISE: LOVE is Teresa, a corpulent,
50-year-old Austrian single mom. As her birthday approaches she treats herself
to a vacation in beachside Kenya, along with three similar Teutonic women, all
on an intended idyll to enjoy sun, sand and sex with strapping young African
men. Most of the other Austrian women are middle-aged and overweight; in fact,
even the thin one is overweight. I guess the Victoria's Secret catalogs
spirited all the thin ones out of the country.
This brand of
flesh-tourism must be a regular deal in Kenya, for, besides a recurring good-time
band singing "Hakuna Matata," there is no shortage of German- (and English)
speaking local males wanting to sell visitors anything they can, including
their bodies. Initially hesitant, Teresa is won over by Munga, a seemingly
gallant guy who chases away the parasites and becomes Teresa's lover while
asking for no payment. Munga introduces Teresa to Kenyan life outside of the
tourist havens. Almost at once, Teresa is moved to start donating to Munga's
suffering relatives. Munga suddenly starts cooling in the relationship, and we
start to get the sinking feeling this is a gigolo situation after all.
In a bleak view
of very modern colonialism on both sides, the lascivious sex-tourist females
exploit the impoverished Africans, who are all too happy to give it right back
when someone such as Teresa makes the mistake of believing she's found something genuine. One especially squirmworthy scene has the girls hiring a young dude as a
sort of exotic dancer for the hen party; another has Teresa waiting, in vain,
for a long-distance call from her daughter on her birthday.
The feelgood
movie of the summer this is not. Unadorned and unsparing, it nonetheless won my
respect for the directness and bravery of Seidl and his troupe for facing such
bleak and uncomfortable truths. And I don't see a Disney remake starring Sandra
Bullock in the cards, either. (3 1/4 out of 4 stars)
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