Paradies: Liebe

When reading internet reviews of Paradise: Love (Paradies: Liebe) — the first in a trilogy of films by Ulrich Seidl, never have I been greeted with such a narrow variety of perspectives. From adjectives limited to a spectrum anywhere between grotesque, obese and tubby, comparisons in style between Seidl and fellow Austrian Michael Haneke, to referencing the exact same quote by Werner Herzog (used in describing Seidl's 2011 documentary Animal Love), I could not help but wonder… what the heck is going on? And when did pundits unite in thinking that female sex tourism in cinema would die eight years ago, after Laurent Cantet's Heading South (Vers le sud); a French film based on three middle-aged women and their search of sex and intimacy with Haitian men?

Herzog's candid remark, conflated into a handy, overused critique isn't worth repeating here.

Loneliness, exploitation, the prison room of cultural and self- repression are themes in this Austrian drama. Cruelly soaked in the warm currents of colonial past; Ulrich Seidl meticulously, sincerely, unapologetically paints the portrait of Teresa (Margarete Tiesel) — a 50 year old woman living in Vienna, upper middle-class, divorced mother of a teenager. Most of the film depicts events that gradually unfold during her lone vacation on the shores of Kenya.

Sex tourism is probably only part of the canvas, though. For in the process, it scratches and destroys the heteronormative lenses with which we understand taboos. Written by Seidl and Veronika Franz; Paradise: Love is a film so explicitly honest to the point of being awkward; that most viewers, embarrassed for Teresa, will look away during moments of vulnerability and self-revelation. The camera of cinematographers Edward Lachman and Wolfgang Thaler looks on unflinchingly during a scabrous encounter with her first companion: does he find her attractive? Isn't she too old for him? Why would he want to make love to her — a beached whale with sagging upper glands, belly full of fat, soggy exterior flawed with celluloid? But most pressingly, having considered the social realist tradition of framing with minimum distortion, why would anyone wince and look away when confronted with mirrors reflecting the consequence of corporeality?

This seventeenth feature by the controversial auteur has been slammed, shamed and shunned for being brazen in its visual audacity. Suggestions that Seidl manipulates viewers with exploitative logic are also suspect in affecting the film's overall reception. Yet, it would be prudent to withhold from believing such. In Paradise: Love — seekers, movers, malcontent inhabitants are drenched in the rich, luxurious texture of a sunlit paradise. The narrative path however; doesn't build up to sex, love or Maslowian truth as its payoff; lesser films would.

I have no doubt this film is a difficult watch because Ulrich Seidl forces Teresa (and us) to acknowledge the naive illusions of paradisaical beauty. But in rhythmic throes that oscillate between anguish, ecstasy and depravity — the African rendition of La Paloma; perhaps a bit saddened by its contrast with the ugly, ordinary trading off between flesh and soul — Seidl derides the remarkable irony of what it means to be human. The dewy-eyed bourgeois privilege suffers. I suppose this is the real reason why Paradise: Love can seem so offensive and unglamorous.

cinemainterruptus.wordpress.com

Without knowing anything more about this, than getting quite OK reviews, I went to see this as they had taken the film I came to see off the day before. Choosing away Skyfall, Stone's Savages and the German film Barbara, because I heard this film was provoking.

It is provoking, at least to many, I'll guess. But I found it to be a very good film, with just as much emphasis on other qualities. The opening scene is simply hilarious, an made the whole crowd instantly fall in a good mood with a LOL-moment, but not without us feeling a tiny bit of shame. This has nothing to do with the film itself, except giving us a glimpse of the main person, Theresa's, background. Completely brilliant way to set tone, and making the audience aware, an f...king hilarious!

We soon see her, as a 50'ish woman preparing for holiday trip to Kenya. Arriving there, we see the obvious goal for a paradise holiday in the sun, and obviously something a lot of German speaking tourists do, as the locals are quite good in German phrases. we are soon seeing that sex tourism is quite big down here, and a reluctant Teresa goes along after getting recommendations from her experienced travel friend, which already is "going steady" with her sugar mama.

As th film plays on, we get a close look at what this sex traffic is all about. Not much prettier than we have learned from men's trips to Thailand or Indonesia. It unravels both he understanding of the reason, as well as the less pretty sides of it. It's shown in a good way, but is more an more showing the unpleasant and nasty sides of it as well. It's after a while thrown Directly and literary in your face.

Director Ulrich Seidl is perhaps taking after his well known and brilliantly provoking countryman Mikael Haneke, and succeeds very well. This is the first if a trilogy starting with "Paradise" as first word in the title. I'll be sure to see the two next ones, as this simply gave me the same great feeling to watch as the first of Kieslowki's "Trois coleurs" back in 1993.

This film is many things at the same time, and a gem for those not to easily offended. It's fun in a quirky Scandinavian way, it's beautifully filmed, and great and neatly told. It doesn't take a stand, but it wants you to do so. It's both beautiful and sad, both funny and tragic, both charming and disgusting. But most if all, it feels very true, and not at all fake. But I think all the laughs here are fabulously loosening up what gives us bad tastes in mouth. It makes the very balanced, even though taking up a severe subject to discussion.

I guess many will have troubles watching the naked bodies, as well as heavily overweight women indulging in sex acts with young local's, but I heavily recommend to give it a shot. This gem won't leave you for a long time. It even gives a great picture of Kenya as a travel goal, with th draw backs of what tourism might lead to. Stunningly good filmmaking and surely something you haven't seen on screen before!

We enter here a paradisaical world with this woman, a middle-aged Austrian who's gone to Kenya on vacation. We enter as she does, strangers, fascinated. There is no transition to this new world, no waiting on airports, no planning for the journey, we are immediately swept as if by the urge to be there. Once there we see as she does, stylized images, arranged symmetries.

In the hotel resort there are trivial games, senile safety, control: the Africans are confections to be toyed with and enjoyed, ranges for the eye to roam. The question that looms is is she there for the encounter and surprise or merely looking for images to bring home to a dull life? You'll see this early in the metaphor with the monkey that takes her bait but refuses to be photographed, eluding her. More importantly: are we here on cinematic vacation or to come to an understanding?

Out in the streets there is a more palpable tension however; all about baring yourself to be seen and the quest for meaning. I like the subject, the lush Africa, the sexual frankness, the fact that sex and meaning are sublimated in a viewing space between people.

So I believe this could have been tremendously powerful stuff in the right hands. Alas the filmmaker is Austrian and this means that we see in the same stark light they bring to everything they do: from logic to politics to music. What does this mean, a stark light ?

It means every encounter has to be sooner rather than later exposed as meaningless, because the ultimate point here is some void at heart, the same that originally creates the journey there, which is also the filmmaker's. It means that he can't let go, and not allowing himself to yet know, coast on the tension of an encounter that may be false, that most probably is false, yet like movies and love work in life, that we can throw ourselves in it as if it is real and in doing so imbue it with truth, weave it from air. A Mood for Love with a question behind each glance.

I'm dreaming of the film Cassavetes would do: all about building to this more or less certain horizon of betrayal with momentary truths, small moments like passing a joint in the dark, riding this tension, hiding the logical knowledge. So I lament this because his failure is the same as his heroine's failure to find fulfillment. He resorts to more obvious stuff, merely chronicling the lack: disillusionment, loneliness and how that gives rise to dehumanizing spectacle as in the scene where the woman is offered in her hotel room a witless African to tease and fondle. Ordinary.

You can even see this reluctance in his camera when now and then he lets it wander: we don't deeply feel the textures, we are never truly enmeshed in the world.

Again this is as much cinematic translation of the woman's pov as it is inescapable worldview for the filmmaker, the same boxed worldview that Herzog runs from by journeying to the edges to throw himself on the manifold strangeness of things, letting his eye roam, staging boats tugged over hills so it can become real.

Some white middle-aged German-speaking women tourists seek sex from male youths on a beach in Kenya--what could go wrong?

This movie vividly documents the repercussions of living out sexual fantasies without thinking of the other person. The location shots make clear the disparity between the visitors and the local people. The tourists' hotel aspires to luxury yet it's sad and artificial, with live entertainment that looks sadly out of place. There's a (literal) dividing line between the hotel and the beach, dividing "Europe," as one person calls it, from Africa.

At one point, the main character wishes out loud that her sex boys would look deeply into her eyes and see her soul rather than merely performing sex in exchange for money. It's the perfect irony, since this woman and her tourist friends show no human regard for the young men they use for sex.

The locales and the situations are exotic. The contrasts we see are eye-opening. Here is a movie produced without frills that promises nonetheless to leave a lasting impression.

I remember watching this in my twenties and hoping to never end up as one of these ladies, now in my thirties i'd realised i might actually end up like one of them, I just hope i can actually afford it by then.