Anyone with a passing familiarity with modern
Austrian cinema outside of Michael Haneke «s work will not be surprised that arthouse horror «Goodnight Mommy» is produced by Ulrich Seidl, whose own «Paradise» trilogy, as well as 2015's terrific, underseen semi-doc «In The Basement,» share a certain chilly formalist distance with Fiala and Franz» movie.
That's what maybe links us to
Austrian cinema, where crises arise because people aren't talking to each other.
Not exact matches
If you only know the film from a few melodic snippets and one
Austrian helicopter shot, clear an evening and sit down with one of the seminal works of
cinema history.
«To be able to play an
Austrian with impeccable English vowels, to make us concerned for her because she's the politest rebel in all
cinema, to be able to make singing sound exciting whilst never giving the impression it is anything but radiantly enjoyable, above all to challenge Audrey Hepburn in the tomboy stakes.»
PETER KUBELKA By Alexander Horwath An
Austrian avant - garde pioneer returns after a 26 - year break with a new film, Poetry and Truth, an excursion into the anthropology of consumerism and the magic of «perfectly found» footage is his first piece of «metaphysical
cinema.»
The great
Austrian filmmaker spoke with us about his early experiences falling in love with
cinema and the films that have shaped his singular aesthetic.
The final part of Ulrich Seidl's soul - sucking
Austrian trilogy dealing with sex, love and faith, Paradise: Hope was an unsettling and skilfully ambivalent piece of
cinema about a vulnerable teenage girl.
For over a decade, the German Currents Film Festival has brought the best of German,
Austrian and Swiss
cinema to Los Angeles.
Half an hour into Tom Hooper's adaptation of the long - running stage musical Les Miserables, he fixes his camera on Anne Hathaway's tortured, tear - streaked face, and she delivers what ought to become one of the great moments in musical
cinema history — right up there with Dorothy singing wistfully of a land far away, Gene Kelly swinging happily around damp lamp poles, and a problem like Maria singing to the grassy
Austrian hillsides.
Internationally - acclaimed
Austrian filmmaker Michael Haneke has famously challenged the established benchmarks of
cinema, in Caché he showed the camera as the objective observer, in a medium that is notorious for its subjectivity, but Funny Games does something a little different.
That is about the highest conceivable recognition an import can find in Hollywood and it marks the most significant acknowledgement to date for
Austrian writer - director Michael Haneke, a man who got his start in television in the 1970s and made the leap to
cinema in 1989.
Haneke, whose eclectic output includes Funny Games (both the original
Austrian version and the 2007 American remake), Code Unknown, Caché and The White Ribbon, has proven time and again that he loves using the tools of
cinema to implicate the audience — as participatory voyeurs — in the turbulent lives of his characters.
This show promises to stand out among the end - of - millennium celebrations, primarily because it will carry the quirky signature of its organizer, Harald Szeemann, whose sweeping survey - style exhibitions over the past few years have tackled subjects no less daunting than the «comprehensive» history of
cinema or
Austrian art and culture.