Suchergebnisse

The creative biography of the film director Jānis Streičs includes 22 feature films, 13 of which are devoted to the present day and nine are about the past. From among historical films, one depicts Latvia at the turn of the 19th century, another focuses on the Russian Civil War, two deal with the inter-war period, three depict World War II, and two are about the 1940s. These films offer Streičs' views about the past, his own interpretation of the texts of history. At the same time, events, people, environments and life situations of the past are viewed from the present-day perspective, which includes issues and values from the present day within the space of the past. This paper examines two films made by Jānis Streičs during the Soviet era, both of them focusing on Latvian history – "The Boys of Līvsala" (1969) and "Strange Passions" (1983), and both of them are set in 1946. The films are different because of the 14 years that passed between the production of the first one and the second one, but they differ even more by the way in which the director sends messages about the past, also displaying his relationship to history and regimes. "Strange Passions" is a challenging film in terms of the history of cinema and the Soviet occupation of Latvia, bringing up the question of whether such a film could have been produced and shown in cinemas and on television. The era that is reflected in the two films is part of Jānis Streičs' own biography. He was a child in 1946, and there was a great deal of tragedy caused by the Soviet regime, its cultivated violence, and the lack of value for human lives. The paper reviews the history interpretation in these films, and the research is based on documents from the Riga Film Studios materials that are stored at the Latvian State Archives. The conclusion is that "The Boys of Līvsala" and "Strange Passions" provide brilliant evidence of the director's "magical realist" style. They demonstrate his great skill in transforming the childhood and youth period of his generation into a part of Latvia's cultural memory.

This article outlines and critically discusses South Korean Buddhist films made during the time of the Roh Tae-woo government (1988-1993), which can be called a semi-democratic and semi-dictatorial regime. This was a period of transition in film policy from the censorship of the earlier dictatorial regimes to the freedom of expression offered to directors by the later democratic administrations, unprecedented in Korean film history. During this period the technical skill of directors improved bringing about a corresponding improvement in the quality of Korean Buddhist films and thus international attention. Although the government allowed filmmakers considerably more freedom to express ideas about sensitive political and social issues during the Roh regime, because of individual and institutional pressures, filmmakers could not freely and critically portray monastic lives and religious issues. For example, conservative Buddhists protested the release of films that depicted Korean Buddhism in a negative light, calling for a form of private censorship. These pressure led filmmakers to use abstruse dialogues, metaphors, stories, images, and technical terms in their Buddhist films, particularly those about Zen Buddhism, that likely baffled audiences.

The voice Stewart (Sam Neill) hears in his head is Ada's (Holly Hunter) "mind's voice" which the audience hears twice: in voice-over narration at the opening and closing of The Piano. The otherwise mute Ada describes her mind's voice to nine-year-old Flora (Anna Paquin) while attempting to explain the disappearance of the child's father. The scene is subtitled for the audience as mother communicates with daughter in sign language. Ada tells Flora that she did not need to speak with him (he remained unnamed) as she could, instead, lay her thoughts in his mind, "like they were a sheet." They were never married, however, because he got frightened and stopped listening.