Pogostemon

A young, socially-awkward, somewhat bloodless Danish priest is dispatched to a remote Icelandic village to build and lead a church. A large part of the film portrays his arduous journey over the sea and on horseback through harsh terrain supported by a team that includes a translator and an adept guide who harbors a degree of animus towards the priest from the colonizing country of Denmark. When the priest reaches the village, he is not in top form (if he ever was). The story integrates every classic trope--man against man, man against Nature, man against God, man against himself--which sounds like an eye-rolling turn-off. But the film's detached observational style allows it to steer well clear of heavy-handed bombast or sentimentality. You may find yourself thinking about it for quite a while, making new connections and finding new meaning in the images and events that unfold. All of the acting is superb. Beautiful sound design and cinematography let the viewer sink into a meditative experience that is hard to forget.

Part tone-poem, part documentary, this film sweepingly captures the anima behind the designer's couture work, rather than the minutiae of its creation, although you get a view of that as well. We are introduced to a creator who is at times petulant and child-like, yet also portrayed as being charged with passion & emotional sensitivity. I see that, in her synopsis, the director has described Guo as 'brave', but the designer is also shown as vulnerable and insecure, with a sizable dose of materialistic hauteur.

In keeping with China's capitalist transformation, her work is naturally preoccupied with signs of wealth and status (and the specter of aristocracy/nobility). It is fascinating to watch her recruit clientele for her 'club' of VIP and VVIP customers by flattering their egos and leveraging their fears of being 'less than' (especially, less than their Western counterparts). The ultimate is to be seen as queenly. In the case of her couture work, this could perhaps mean being burdened under a garment weighing as much as 50kg (said to symbolize responsibility) while walking precariously on elevated footwear.

The production process is presented as both workman-like (300+ overworked embroiderers; periods of up to two and a half years for a single piece) and mysterious (an intriguing sequence that might have been biofeedback training in Switzerland). We see her sketching and selecting materials, but her role in the whole process almost seems to occur at a slight remove.

Are these efforts and opulent creations *sublime* or *ridiculous*? With its hands-off storytelling, the film does not appear to argue for one or the other, but surely you can't help feeling that there are elements of both. Besides the film's detached, intelligent, and impressionistic presentation, the fantastic music and visual poetry make this a captivating view.

I just have to stand up for this movie, in light of some bad reviews I'm seeing on here. There were at least three points in this film when I laughed till I cried. Believe me, that doesn't happen often. (The first time involved the talent of tap dancing.) It can be tricky in black comedy to maintain a tone that doesn't try too hard, but the director managed this feat admirably. The actors also largely maintained just the right balance, especially Kate Micucci, whose presence and sometimes subtle changes in expression were spot on. The pace of the storytelling and the editing were quite good. Fantastic commitment to absurdism by all; I can't wait to see more from the writers.