Trans representation in Girl

At the Film Fest Gent the film Girl by Lukas Dhont had its grand premiere with a rainbow carpet and a benefit for Transgender Infopunt on the 9th of October. Nora Monsecour, the 22 (or maybe 23 in the meantime) year old young woman whose life inspired this film and who was actively involved in the making of it, hoped the film would start a debate about ongoing transgender issues.

That's a very good idea! So let's start a debate about trans representation. Starting from this article recently published in the US concerning Girl's future release on Netflix. 'Cause the bitter, badly informed article on BeOut appears not to be concerned with analyzing the claim why fake SJWs on Twitter think it's transphobic. I say "fake SJWs" because Girl isn't even out on Netflix yet (nope, not even in the US). These social media hysterics are solely basing their anger on Into's article written by Mathew Rodriguez (check the dates: the shitstorm about Girl only started after Rodriguez' article appeared), who saw it on TIFF in September. It seems most of these hysterics aren't very internet-savvy, or maybe they're just trolling their way through puberty (which is kinda the same).

Trans Trauma Porn?

I was somewhat reluctant to link to Into's article above, but I will for the sake of debate. Rodriguez undeniably has no clue of the fact this film is inspired by someone's actual life (or, if he has, it's bad writing not to mention it in the article, since it would've been relevant to the subject matter). Also, his call-out at trans people telling them not to watch it, is downright paternalistic. But at the same time, there is something wrong with Girl. Something neither Belgian or international media and film festivals, blinded by the "trans trauma porn" as Rodriguez is rightfully calling it, are picking up on (except in the next to last paragraph of the review in ZiZo). And it's not just about the fact that Lola, the trans girl in the film, is played by a cis boy.

After I saw the film, I tweeted it lacked psychosocial depth and was too shallow. Now I want to explore that critique a bit more. Because Girl reminded me of the gay trauma films I saw as a teenager (like Brokeback Mountain, Head On, Un año sin amor, C.R.A.Z.Y. and Philadelphia). Films that were, from a narrative point of view, very touching and recommendable, but from a representative point of view they had a bad effect on my idea of what "real gay life" was like: full of emotional suffering, living in hiding and escaping into clandestine sex. The more I talked and read about Girl, the more I realized this film is actually doing something similar for trans people. 'Cause we are talking representation here. Why else make such a big fuss of the trans-aspect in both Cannes (Queer Palm) and at the FFG?

Even more so, Nora explicitly stated in an interview: "Ik ben ook heel blij dat de film aan jongeren vertoond wordt, want ik heb nooit zoiets gehad in mijn leven. Ik heb nooit naar een film kunnen kijken die exact weergaf hoe zo'n transgender personage zich moet voelen." Waw, the privilege of being depicted in a film transformed into paternalism rather fast here: a film that "exactly reflects how a transgender should feel"? Okay, she's in her early twenties and obviously had a very traumatic adolescence, so we can understand where this well-intended paternalism is coming from - give her some slack. But thinking this is a reflection of a common transgender experience, needs to be objected immediately before this false assumption that Girl is representative gets hold on people. This is how teachers, politicians, parents, journalists and other influential people create and sustain bad stereotype's. Nora's life is unique, and it has given her experience and wisdom at an early age, but it did not give her the right to suggest this is representative in any way. Before we know it politicians will be using her story to spread this false idea of how transgender experiences are, which is frustratingly counterproductive.

Being trans doesn't mean your life's representative for all (or even most) trans people

The thing is, in trauma films like this, the psychosocial aspects of a person's life are reduced to just one part of their identity. In this case: bodily discomfort. We all know how repressive it can feel to be reduced to only one part of our identity, and I assume it is even harder for trans (as well as intersex) people exactly because cis physicality is constantly reinforced as being "normal" (correct me if I'm making a false assumption here). Physicality, unlike sexual preference, is visible - it might explain the urge of many trans people to "look as cis as possible" (just like many gay people feel the urge to "act as straight as possible"). Non-binaric thinking and queer empowerment could've brought some solace here, but unfortunately, they didn't seem to be a part of Nora's adolescent life yet.

When you see this one part of your identity at center stage in a film, like Girl, it feels too reductionist, too superficial, too essentialist. It's as if the film narrows your life experience into one part of your identity and presents it as "the trans reality". Plain and simple. Just like "the gay reality" in gay trauma films completely distorted my view on how life as a gay man is like. Again, plain and simple. But so, so, so very distorted.

And yet Nora herself sees it as follows: "Voor mij was het heel belangrijk dat de transgender-thematiek als iets normaals en neutraals wordt weergegeven. In de media wordt het transgender-zijn soms als een soort circusact opgevoerd. Ik vond het heel belangrijk dat we een diepere kijk gaven op een leven van een transgender jongere. Dat is in Girl perfect weergegeven." Well, sorry to say, but this "deeper approach" to being trans, is something only Nora, the person that actually went through this particular experience, can fully grasp. She can fill in the blanks, the nuance and the ambiguity because she lived through it.

Nora is, in other words, too closely involved to see it actually is not a "perfect depiction" of being trans. It's her depiction of being trans. Which might be perfect for her, it is not for most other trans people. By suggesting it is, she's giving cis people the go-ahead to think this is good trans representation; in the meantime neglecting to stress the fact it is cishets who are responsible for a lot of gender dysphoria. Confusing a perfect depiction of being trans with your own depiction of being trans seems like a very egocentric thing to do.

Body dysmorphia or gender dysphoria?

Girl is a film that, for the bigger part, doesn't bring the psychosocial experiences most trans people have in common to the screen (like gender dysphoria). Instead, it focuses on a highly individual experience: an obsessive focus on the body caused by an all-consuming passion for ballet, which is reinforced through an (assumed, not factual!) common trans experience. The problem with this, apart from finding a young trans ballerina (which they didn't), is that this highly individual experience resembles body dysmorphia more than it does gender dysphoria. Something I really hope the endocrinologist Guy T'Sjoen pointed out on the Q&A at the FFG (but I don't know, I wasn't there). Otherwise we're just affirming the conservative, alt-right position that all transgender people are sick and suffer from BDD. As such, Girl can magnify transphobia rather than reduce it. So yes, it can come across as transphobic to trans people. Not because they're oversensitive cry-babies, but because a film like this reinforces the idea they're mentally sick. Wouldn't you be fucking pissed off about that? Or is it only okay for straight, white, cis men to bitch about things?

Nora pointed out that we shouldn't forget trans people are human like all of us, not just transgender. Although I wholeheartedly agree, and I am really glad she doesn't victimize herself, Girl is not helping in bringing this point across. For the average cis, straight person who saw this movie, trans people now seem to suffer from BDD rather than gender dysphoria.

So while the story might be based on someone's actual life, the obsessive focus on the body during the whole film is not extrapolatable to trans people in general. Just like the obsessive craving for sex or the bullying because of flamboyant traits are not extrapolatable to gay people in general (most gay trauma porn is about those so-called common experiences). Since it's mostly cis people watching the film, possibly having an epiphany about "the trans experience" after seeing it, this is rightfully labeled "trans trauma porn". Dramatic art cinema is mostly an exaggeration of life, highlighting aspects of it because of practical and narrative reasons, but isn't it doing more harm than good exactly because of that? Exactly because it exploits an extremely traumatic life story for artistic goals? If Girl wasn't promoted and used in a way that openly seeks to represent trans people, I wouldn't mind this as much. But this needs to be contradicted. It's so clearly about more than a trans girl being visible. It's about this trans girl being representative. Which she's not.

Cis point-of-view, not trans point-of-view

Cis people might go home thinking about how hard trans people's life is, hoping their kids won't have to face such difficulties. They're not realizing they are (often unknowingly) the ones making trans people's life so hard by asking when the sex-change operation is (already assuming there will be one), repeating they don't make a big deal out of it so trans people shouldn't either (forgetting their privilege), focusing on female and masculine traits (reaffirming cis normativity), associating jobs, skills and emotions with biological sex (confusing statistics with causality), trying to find out what their "original" sex or name is (social illiteracy), etc. They've not been confronted with the fact that being cis is just one possible way of being. A way which we have priviliged for centuries on end through very strict definitions of what femininity and masculinity are supposed to be or look like.

The traumatic experience of Girl gets assimilated into the cis' view on the world: trans people are having a hard time because of who they are, not because of how cis people talk and act. It doesn't make cis people reflect on how they themselves maintain a binary world, which they are policing every day. This binary world not only forces trans people into a figurative straitjacket, but makes cis people act in disciplinary and obedient ways towards their own gender as well. Seeing a total lack of this awareness in the film, it should come as no surprise that the director is cis himself.

Girl might not be representative, alternatives do exist

We need to stress the fact that representation through only one film is impossible, so we need to stop pretending (and expecting) it can be. That being said, we also need to acknowledge that Girl is the kind of representation that depicts the opposite of what trans awareness is trying to achieve: it's actively creating and sustaining a stereotype ("the body-tormented trans person") based on a dangerous entanglement between body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria. It's like depicting gay people as degenerates, as they so often did throughout the 1970s and 1980s. LGBT+ communities should learn from their past instead of allowing the same mistakes to be made again. We've already turned our backs towards trans communities more than enough.

If you're looking for more interesting, empowering and inspiring depictions of trans people, try the shorts by Jake Graf (like Dawn), Calamity, Tonight It's Me and Prisoner of Society, films like Una mujer fantástica, Tomboy, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Saturday Church, Morrer como um homem, 52 Tuesdays, Nånting måste gå sönder, Tangerine and The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, docs like Paris Is Burning and The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson and series like Transparent and Sense8. Of course, this is coming from a cis man, so I might project wrongly. If that's the case, please don't hesitate to dispute my (bad) view on trans depictions.

Piraten in de filmindustrie: get over it

"Piraterij is een misdrijf!" Wie de laatste tien jaar een film bekeek via vhs, dvd, blu-ray of in de cinema kon deze boodschap niet negeren. De filmindustrie staat in rep en roer voor al die zogezegde dieven die "hun" producten zomaar, helemaal gratis, aanbieden aan de hele wereld.

Op het Film Fest Gent vond op vrijdag 21 oktober een debat plaats over illegaal downloaden, georganiseerd door het VAF. Al is 'debat' niet het juiste woord. Dit was een platform voor anti-piraterij sentiment en een pleidooi voor hardere regularisering. Lobby-geblaat van de Belgian Entertainment Association zoals dat ook gebeurt bij kapitalistische paternalisten Voka, Unizo en VBO (inclusief ongeïnspireerde sneren jegens socialisten en economisch minder kapitalistische landen). Het publiek bleek over het algemeen weinig responsief te zijn (het kreeg de kans ook niet, want voor vragen/opmerkingen was er geen tijd) en, naar wat ik bij sommigen - maar gelukkig niet allemaal - hoorde, was het ongenoegen ook niet zo heel erg groot. Integendeel. Volgens mij was ik, met mijn 29, de jongste in de zaal en moest ik aanhoren hoe een hele groep Belgen van tussen de 15 en 29 (de groep die het meeste illegaal download) ronduit gecriminaliseerd werd zonder dat er ook maar één persoon was die het voor hen op nam. Met uitzondering van moderator Ben Van Alboom die hier en daar toch zijn best deed de - zelfverklaarde, maar succesvolle - advocaat van de duivel te spelen.

Zo'n 'debat' organiseren, is eigenlijk niet veel meer dan standaard industry talk en toont alweer zéér pijnlijk aan in wat voor een navelstaarderige bedoening het Film Fest Gent soms verwordt. Waar waren de antagonisten? Waarom werd de Piratenpartij niet betrokken? Waar waren de jongeren die hier zo gestigmatiseerd werden? Kortom, dit was een farce, en niet van het grappige soort. Daarom is het tijd om, met evenveel noten op mijn zang, eens ongegeneerd te gaan vousvoyeren.


Piraterij zal niet verdwijnen
 
Laat ik meteen het volgende zeggen: ik consumeer veel film. Dat doe ik op zowat alle manieren die er mogelijk zijn. Met zo'n 50 bioscoopbezoeken en 5 filmfestivals per jaar, een dvd- en blu-ray collectie die de duizenden overschrijdt, regelmatige opvragingen van vod en een digicorder die steeds tot tegen de 95% vol staat, maak ik gebruik van zowat alle legale wegen. Maar dat is niet alles. Omdat het aanbod op al deze plaatsen steeds minder het aanbod is dat ik zoek (het aanbod is minstens voor de helft conservatief, weinig geïnspireerd en ronduit saai) en omdat sommige films mij het geld gewoon niet waard zijn (maar ik ze wel bekijk als het gaat over films waar je als filmliefhebber zogezegd niet om heen kan), download ik dus ook - frequent - illegaal.

Dat ik dit hier zo complexloos verkondig, kan u hatelijk vinden. U kan dat het toppunt van arrogantie vinden. U kan wensen dat iemand als ik op zijn bek gaat en door het gerecht wordt aangepakt. Maar wat bereikt u daarmee? Niets. Want piraterij zal niet stoppen. En ik? Mijn dvd- en blu-ray- consumptie, alsook mijn bioscoop- en tv-consumptie zullen dalen. Dat is de realiteit. Uw markt, die van filmproductie, -distributie en -exploitatie, is onderhevig aan verpletterende veranderingen. Dat krijgt u uiteraard vaak te horen, zoals u zelf op het 'debat' al aanhaalde. Maar volgens mij begrijpt u niet hoe fundamenteel die veranderingen zijn. Ze dringen namelijk door tot de essentie van datgene wat uw beroep, uw broodwinning overeind houdt: eigendomsrechten. En daar hoorde ik u met geen woord over reppen, behalve dan via een retorische "daar gaan we toch niet over beginnen"-afwijzing. Dat is uw Heilige Graal. Daarover discussieert u niet.

Wel, beste dames en heren van de sector, de tijden zijn veranderd. Eigendomsrechten in de muziek- en filmindustrie zijn al lang niet meer wat ze geweest waren en zullen dat ook nooit meer worden. U kan doemscenario's op mij afvuren en u zal in de meeste gevallen helemaal gelijk hebben. Zo zal de filmindustrie inderdaad krimpen als we eigendomsrechten versoepelen of zelfs geheel wegnemen. Er zal minder productie zijn. Er zal minder werk zijn. Dat is allemaal waar. In de eerste fase toch. Want industrieën komen en gaan. Dat moet u, allen uitvoerders van de kapitalistische doctrine, toch zéker begrijpen? Wanneer vakbonden de straten op komen om saneringen en hervormingen te bestrijden, is dat toch ook maar gewoon omdat de markt efficiënter, dynamischer en moderner moet worden? Niets persoonlijk dus!

De originele industrie krimpt. Uw broodwinning verdwijnt voor een stuk. In de tweede fase krijg je een concentratie van bedrijven: samenvloeiingen, overnames en conglomeratievorming. Dit heeft al lang niets meer te maken met kunstenaars en artiesten, ondertussen bent u gewoon uzelf aan het beschermen - de creatieve beroepen worden al in een gevecht van allen tegen allen gedreven, zij zijn uw probleem niet meer. Het kapitalisme wordt in de tussentijd sterker aan de top en creëert een economie die groter is, maar véél minder dynamisch en véél protectionistischer. U kan daar bij horen of niet, dat hangt helemaal van uw mentaliteit af. Wil u over lijken gaan? Is film u eigenlijk geen moer meer waard omdat uw inkomen nu - tot op zekere hoogte begrijpelijk - op de eerste plaats komt? Dan zal u door blijven gaan. U zal een schuldige zoeken en die schuldige zijn de piraten. Niet de kapitalistische logica waaraan u zich kritiekloos conformeert. Niet de economische en financiële recessies die voor koopkrachtdalingen zorgen. Die inkrimping van de originele industrie met een grotere economie tot gevolg (waar ook gediplomeerde economen, juristen en consultants zonder enige affiniteit met het medium deel van zijn en een resem aan bullshit jobs genereren), is uiteraard al een aantal decennia aan de gang, los van de digitale revolutie. Het gebeurt telkens er een democratisering optreedt (zoals de televisie in de 1950s en de opslagmedia in de 1980s), omdat men die democratisering steeds onder controle wil houden. Voor filmliefhebbers, artiesten, technici, curators en cinefiele producers en promotors is er al lang geen plaats meer - zij zorgen enkel nog voor de geloofwaardigheid die u nodig hebt om uw bankrekening te spijzen en uw geweten te sussen.

De derde fase is dat Hollywood (en andere steeds meer geconcentreerde filmindustrieën doorheen tal van landen) als een razende te keer gaat bij de bevoegde overheden om de Heilige Graal veilig te stellen. Via lobbywerk voor repressief beleid wil ze één van dé fundamenten van het kapitalisme veilig stellen: eigendomsrechten. Kost wat kost, zonder rekening te houden met privacy of vermogen. "Zonder eigendomsrechten is de wereld om zeep en gaan we er allemaal aan!", lijkt het wel hysterisch te klinken. Dat piraterij zo'n machtsbastion als Hollywood kan doen daveren, toont aan dat uw teergeliefde eigendomsrechten lang niet zo'n zekerheid bieden als u wenst te geloven. Ook het kapitalisme steunt op brakke pilaren die, zo wijst de realiteit uit, elk moment kunnen doorbreken. U wil die veilig stellen? Dat kan alleen maar door de kant van het autoritarisme te kiezen, en niet de kant van de vrijheid. Ik weet dat kapitalisten en liberalen houden van enige vorm van tegendraadsheid, zeker als het aankomt op alles wat met de overheid en religie te maken heeft, maar wees maar zeker: vandaag staat u aan de conservatieve, dictatoriale zijde. Uw 'tegendraadsheid' laat geen ruimte voor verandering en is niet meer dan een hippe pose. Wat u wil, is wat u steeds verafschuwd heeft: controle en gehoorzaamheid. Van een jonge ket naar een oude knar: "knoop dat alvast goed in uw oren!"


De ideologische kant waar niemand het over wil hebben

Het verhaaltje dat ik al jaren hoor, is dat ik gewoon niets begrijp van marktwerking, dat ik oubollige communistische ideeën omarm en dat ik nooit of te nimmer zal slagen in het leven als ik me niet wat flexibeler opstel. Maar in plaats van in zelfmedelijden te wentelen, leef ik een leven van strijd, vallen en opstaan. Soms gaat dat moeilijk, omdat mensen hun ideologische wereldbeeld vaak als realiteit aanzien en ze daardoor inert geraken ("ik kan er niets aan doen", "het is de economische realiteit", "mijn verantwoordelijkheid niet",...), maar ik merk steeds meer - voornamelijk bij jongere mensen en generatiegenoten -  dat het enthousiasme, de drijfveer, de passie en de wilskracht aanwezig zijn om die fundamenten waarbij het kapitalisme zweert te negeren, uit te hollen, te omzeilen of simpelweg af te breken - vaak niet eens met enige ideologische drive, maar gewoon omdat de realiteit zo makkelijker, aangenamer of draaglijker wordt. En dat allemaal zonder in te zitten met al te zware repercussies, omdat we gelukkig in een samenleving leven waarin directe, fysieke repressie verbannen is naar het verleden - voorlopig althans.

Uw achterliggende ideologie is dus níet meer dynamisch, níet meer flexibel, níet meer de enige optie. De materiële wereld vandaag is een tweestrijd van een robuust, statisch en repressief kapitalisme (dat de staat en de multinational als twee van haar sterkste emanaties heeft) en een vitalisme dat bruist van anarchistische, geëngageerde en gepassioneerde mensen en praktijken. U wil het niet zien, omdat u geen open geest meer heeft. U bent bang van verandering die u omschrijft als broodroof (want concurreren met gratis lukt niet!), maar tegelijk zweert u toch bij datgene wat inherent verandering in zich draagt: de markt. Alleen is het zo dat die markt vandaag evolueert, voor film en muziek althans, naar gratis uitwisseling - omdat de consument het zo wil.

"Voor niets gaat de zon op!", hoor ik u al denken. Dat is waar. Dat zal ik niet ontkennen. Maar als u ziet dat filmconsumptie vandaag wel zo functioneert, of het nu illegaal is of niet, zou u dat toch aan het denken moeten zetten over de manier waarop niets voor niets is. Geld blijkt namelijk opeens niet meer zo'n belangrijke maatstaf te zijn voor het consumptie-uiteinde van de productieketen. Dat dit vreselijk lastig is in "de economische realiteit" vandaag, waarin andere sectoren en industrieën gewoon verder gaan met geld als belangrijkste ruilmiddel, is de enige échte miserie. Maar desondanks gaat het hier wel om een mentaliteit die het volgende dicteert: "omdat iedereen het doet, doen wij het ook!" De vrije markt, jaja.

Elke verandering is moeilijk. Elke transformatie vereist opgaves. Kapitalisme zal niet op één-twee-drie verdwijnen, evenmin als de eigendomsrechten waarop het zo gefundeerd is. Dat is ook niet wenselijk, omdat een alternatief ook niet op één-twee-drie rechtgezet is. Maar daar waar zaken afbrokkelen, moeten nieuwe zaken opgebouwd worden. Eigendomsrechten zijn aan een herziening toe. Door piraterij wordt het concept 'diefstal' uitgehold. Want piraten stelen niet, ze kopiëren. Ze kopiëren en verspreiden het onder de mensen. Dat is, in de feiten, democratisering. Hoe frustrerend dat ook klinkt, het is nu éénmaal zo. Wie piraterij tegenwerkt, werkt democratisering tegen. Zo simpel is het.


Speel een pioniersrol

Er zijn geen industrieën dankbaarder om een pioniersrol te gaan spelen inzake eigendomsrechten dan de muziek- en filmindustrie. De digitale revolutie heeft een strijd in gang gezet die u niet zal winnen. U kan het alleen maar vertragen en onaangenamer maken voor zowat alle betrokken partijen. In plaats van te zoeken naar manieren om dat proces tegen te gaan door sensibiliseringsacties in kapitalistische leest ("je bent een vuile dief!"), repressief beleid (of het nu gaat om providers, piraten of gebruikers aan te pakken) en weinig ingrijpende technologische innovatie (om bvb. makkelijk te vinden waar welke films te koop zijn), zijn er heel wat andere mogelijkheden die het proces, gecontroleerd en geïnformeerd, de toekomst in kunnen leiden - maar niet zonder slag of stoot natuurlijk. U mag geen schrik hebben van illegaliteit (een goeie ondernemer is toch niet vies van wat rommelen in de marge van wat - vooral fiscaal dan - toegelaten is, niet?) en ook niet van conflict met oude partners (u bent ervaren in concurrentiedrift, zet die nu om in wezenlijk i.p.v. heimelijk conflict). Dus...

01. Stop met exclusiviteit na te streven. HBO is exclusief voor Telenet. Leuk voor al die Proximus klanten. Een film of serie is uitgekomen op Netflix. Pech als je het niet hebt. Distributierechten exclusief houden, is zo paternalistisch, ondemocratisch en egoïstisch als maar kan - het is een autoritair gebruik dat meer gemeen heeft met de middeleeuwen dan de 21ste eeuw. U hebt de film of de serie niet gemaakt, claim hem dan ook niet. Als producers lagere prijzen moeten hanteren om hun distributierechten dan nog verkocht te krijgen, dan is dat maar zo. Zolang die exclusiviteit bestaat, pleit ik voor illegaal downloaden all the way. De industrie maakt via exclusiviteitsdeals gewoon zichzelf kapot en daar heb ik geen medelijden mee. De consument oordeelt in uw nadeel. Pech gehad.

02. Stop met regionale distributie en regiocoderingen. iTunes US en iTunes België al eens vergeleken? Of je al eens rot gezocht naar een film die uiteindelijk niet eens in Regio 2 of Regio B te vinden was? Wat een klucht allemaal. Daarnaast, voorkom de vertraging van releases op de Belgische markt. Dvd's en blu-ray's verschijnen soms maanden voor de Belgische release in andere landen. Films verschijnen soms ook meer dan een jaar na hun wereldpremière in onze zalen. Of nooit. De oplossing? Illegaal downloaden. Én compleet gerechtvaardigd. Als het aanbod er niet is op een legale manier, what else is there to do? Geduld? Neen, dat is zó 20ste eeuw.

03. Stop met Hollywood een platform te geven. Laat de studio's creperen. Weiger - allemaal samen - de integrators hun geld terug te betalen. Zolang Hollywood de toon zet, zal de productie-, distributie- en exploitatie-sector in België slaafs volgen. Wil je hun dominantie doorbreken? Breek dan de Belgische relaties met dat bastion dat onze lokale economie dicteert hoe het moet functioneren. Wie Hollywoodfilms wil zien, kan ze downloaden. Of om echt kwaad bloed te zetten: speel illegale versies gratis in cinema's. Schrik voor vervolging? Ga allemaal op één lijn staan. Solidariteit is het sleutelwoord hier. Wat gaan ze doen? Deurwaarders naar alle bioscopen sturen? Let them try. Hoe dan ook, de mensen die nog Hollywoodfilms in bioscopen willen zien, zijn een uitstervend ras: de tijden veranderen zo snel dat consumenten daar na een paar weken al niet meer wakker van liggen, zeker bij jonge generaties is dat zo (toevallig ook de hoogste populatie bioscoopbezoekers voor dergelijke films). Kinepoliscomplexen kunnen gerust allemaal films die geen Hollywoodproducties zijn spelen en volk blijven trekken. Minder, zeker, maar nog steeds meer dan genoeg. Er zijn sowieso vertoningsplekken te kort in België. Geen non-stop Hollywoodproducties meer = good riddance!

04.  Als een film geen Hollywoodproductie is, maar wel een Hollywooddistributeur heeft, omzeil die distributeur dan door rechtstreeks met het productieteam te gaan onderhandelen. Zeg hen dat er in België geen vertegenwoordiging is van hun internationale distributeur of probeer duidelijk te maken dat de film geen platform krijgt in ons land omdat de distributeur niet van plan is de film uit te brengen (wat steeds vaker zo ís voor de betere films overigens). De ervaring leert me bovendien dat de Hollywooddistributeurs in de Benelux amper weten welke distributierechten ze hebben. Ze dumpen die titels meestal gewoon op de dvd-markt zonder er ook maar iets rond te doen. Vertel dàt tegen de productieteams en beloof hen wél eervolle promo - wanneer dat voldoende gebeurt, vanuit verschillende instanties, zal een mentaliteitsverandering wel volgen en voor je het weet geeft het productieteam de toestemming. De aanhouder wint. België is een klein land, maar wat houdt ons tegen de luis in de pels te zijn van de kapitalistische wereldeconomie?

05. Stop de wekelijkse releases. Grow up, in welke eeuw leeft u? Breng een nieuwe film uit als een vorige film geen volk meer trekt. Speel een film opnieuw als de interesse en vraag weer stijgt. Promoot uitzonderlijke films en geef hen een vertoningsplek - ongeacht welke dag of maand we zijn. Speel een film geen verplichte twee, drie of vier keren per dag, maar laat de exploiteurs vrij om te bepalen hoeveel en wanneer. Deel de fokking recettes met elkaar i.p.v. zo angstvallig alles geheim te houden. Doorbreek de arrogantie van Kinepolis tegelijk met de arrogantie van Hollywood.

06. Niet alle films zijn vatbaar voor piraterij. Engels-, Frans- en Nederlandstalige films, producties waar veel marketing rond bestaat en films die verschijnen via streaming of hard copy worden het vaakst gekopieerd. Bekijk eens een affiche van een doorsnee Belgisch filmfestival en 3/4de (als 't niet meer is), is niet illegaal te downloaden. Creëer een momentum rond unieke films, maar vertoon ze gratis of hou de prijs laag. Zorg voor een community-sfeer i.p.v. een louter commerciële sfeer.

Productieteams, distributeurs en exploiteurs hebben allen hetzelfde belang: film in haar eer overbrengen naar de toekomst. Uw product is gewild en begeerd. Als de hele filmindustrie in elkaar valt (wat niet door piraterij zal gebeuren, maar eerder door het onvermogen van het kapitalisme om te transformeren, waardoor het gebrek aan koopkracht en positieve uitstraling op de duur de belangrijkste doodsoorzaak zal zijn), zullen mensen zoeken naar nieuwe vormen van entertainment. Maar film zal hoe dan ook vertaald worden naar die nieuwe vormen van entertainment, hoe futuristisch ook. Technologie herbergt zowel het potentieel voor kapitalisme als voor anarchisme. De toekomst van film ligt bij anarchisme. Alleen zal de transformatie niet zonder slag of stoot gebeuren. Er zijn muren te doorbreken. Er zullen zaken moeten opgegeven worden. En, het moeilijkste van allemaal, de filmindustrie als broodwinning zien in "de economische realiteit", zal steeds minder vanzelfsprekend worden.

Er zullen altijd mensen zijn die geld willen uitgeven aan film. Maar productiebudgetten zullen hoe dan ook dalen. Werkingsbudgetten eveneens. Een return on investment kan niet meer verwacht worden. Film zal terugvallen op datgene wat altijd de ruggengraat van de sector geweest is: passie, enthousiasme, volharding en onvoorwaardelijk geloof. In de tussentijd moet er brood op de plank komen, daaraan ontsnapt niemand, maar het zo nu en dan met wat minder stellen - de levensstandaard een beetje herdenken -, is iets wat we allemaal zullen moeten doen. Maak van de filmindustrie terug een filmgemeenschap waarin wederzijds hulp bestaat. Iets wat overigens onder uw ogen aan het gebeuren is. In die gemeenschap is het stigma dat rond downloaden hangt volledig afwezig - en het gaat hier over mensen die in de sector werken en die filmliefhebbers in hart en nieren zijn, niet over de voxpop die sowieso al geen graten ziet in illegaal downloaden. Er is een combinatie van politiek bewustzijn, ondernemingszin en passie aanwezig die, i.t.t. de standaard Voka, Unizo en VBO newspeak, de kiemen van morgen in zich draagt.

Dit is een schotschrift naar en een reality check voor de filmindustrie. Omwille van het polemische karakter zal ik geen zieltjes winnen en is het een beetje preken voor eigen kerk. Maar zieltjes winnen is niet mijn zorg. Dat laat ik over aan meer diplomatische, minder temperamentvolle mensen. Ik wil het conflict, en het is in de eerste plaats een generatieconflict, op de spits drijven. Zonder dat conflict heeft het namelijk geen zin om tijd en energie te steken in wat ik doe. Zonder conflict is er geen ruchtbaarheid, zonder ruchtbaarheid doet iedereen toch maar gewoon door zonder stil te staan bij wat ze doen, en zonder zelfreflectie ontstaan er geen opportuniteiten. Ik heb nog veel te leren en ervaren, maar als het aankomt op botsen, vallen en weer opstaan, ben ik al behoorlijk gehard voor een 29-jarige. Vaker dan niet heeft dat resultaat opgeleverd. Dat kan ik zeggen omdat mijn maatstaf voor succes niet bepaald is door een vet inkomen en een goed imago, maar door mijn persoonlijke groei, mijn duurzame sociale leefwereld en het gevoel iets zinnig en waardevol te doen met mijn leven. U kan het daarmee oneens zijn. Mij niet gelaten. We zullen dan ook geen vrienden worden. En daar is niets mis mee.

Top 25 of 2015 (from #5 till #1)

5. Inherent Vice

It has been since the turning of the century that drug-infused films were popular (Trainspotting, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, The Big Lebowski, Human Traffic, Go, Requiem for a Dream, Blow, Spun,...). After that, tons of stoner comedies were made along the lines of National Lampoon's legacy. The last few years though, more ambitious drug movies are on the rise again: Enter the Void, Crystal Fairy & The Magical Cactus, Spring Breakers, A Field in England and now Paul Thomas Anderson's Inherent Vice. While I enjoyed all of Anderson's films in the past, I cannot say he has ever made a film that I consider to be one of my all-time favorites. He's undoubtedly very talented, but his films all have a rather pretentious feeling to them. Inherent Vice is no exception to this. At the same time, it is a film that hasn't been as well received as most of his others (which of course still is a reception that was way above average). I cannot really point out why that is, since Inherent Vice is definitely my favorite Anderson film. Just like most of his older work, this isn't a very accessible film: the plot is rather complex, with a lot of supporting characters and strange (often drug-infused) dialogues. It is the adaptation of a book by Thomas Pynchon, an American writer who is known for his dense and abstruse novels. "Inherent Vice", the book, was conceived as part-noir and part-psychedelica and that's exactly what Anderson made out of it - a worthy adaptation indeed. The eccentric performances of Joaquin Phoenix and Josh Brolin, alongside the compelling voice-over of Joanna Newsom and the hazy soundtrack of Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood, make Inherent Vice into a neo-noir to be reckoned with. The fuzzy storyline isn't as important as the 1970s atmosphere Anderson, Greenwood and DoP Robert Elswit try to create. Keep that in mind when watching this film. It'll be so much more rewarding in the end.

4. Dear White People

Dear white people, we address this film to you. *nominations for the Academy Awards are announced* Dear white people, thanks for nothing. We don't need to get into the god-awful white, heterosexual, cisgender dominated Oscars again. Although I want to stress that those who agree with Charlotte Rampling on this, really need to be educated. Not enough black people to have deserved a nomination? How about O'Shea Jackson Jr. (Straight Outta Compton), Shameik Moore (Dope), Michael B. Jordan (Creed), Teyonah Parris (Chi-Raq), Will Smith (Concussion), Idris Elba (Beasts of No Nation), Mya Taylor (Tangerine), John Boyega (Star Wars: The Force Awakens) or Samuel L. Jackson (The Hateful Eight)? Or where were Gugu Mbatha-Raw (Belle), André Benjamin (Jimi: All Is by My Side) and Tessa Thompson (Dear White People) last year? And this is just the actors... Moreover, this probably is just the tip of the iceberg. I think the best response is to just ignore the Oscars. Their authority is only derived from the fact we always keep on referring to them as if they have some artistic, creative or qualitative merit, while it all is just a festivity of Hollywood's glitter and glamour. Yes, black people should fight this, since nobody should be excluded from even the most shallow kinds of celebrations, but on the other hand, why not look to the alternatives? Dear White People offers us exactly this kind of tension: do black people want to be part of white peoples' "world" or do they want their own "world"? And what about integration, assimilation and subversion of white and black "cultural differences"? Dear White People shines a light on all those positions and, for once, cherishes even the anarchist point of view. This movie is funny, thought-provoking and intensely human, all drenched in an authentic hip hop soundtrack (not a nostalgic one like in Straight Outta Compton and Dope, but a contemporary and militant one). It embraces the complexity of ethnic oppression and at the same time it is very clear on one subject: racism today still exists, and the fight against it is not over. Don't be trapped in the dual "with us or against us" framework, but do pick a side in the complex, polygonal shape our world is made out of instead of insisting that it's all the same.

3. Birdman
Praised by the press and movie buffs everywhere, slandered by the many people who thought they were going to see a witty take on the superhero genre. Best film of the (past) year(s) vs. ridiculously overrated. It seems there's no real "in between" when it comes to Birdman. It also seems the first, more elitist reception will make it into the history books. In this case I say: deservedly so. Yes, Birdman is very deceiving in its presentation of the one long take, Iñárritu's script is incredibly conceited and the final tone of the film offers nothing but a cynical view on the way Hollywood and Broadway work. That's all true. But what's new? Isn't Marvel doing exactly the same in their own way? At least Birdman isn't deceptively ironic and doesn't try to conceal lack of content by CGI-ing the shit out of us. It is angry. Frustrated even. But in its frustration, it hits the right spot: in a world and time where the so-called free market dictates what is good and what is bad, where an artist should be more of an entrepreneurial businessman than a creative free spirit and where money buys critical acclaim through marketing and media coverage, Birdman - in all its arrogance - actually tries to say something meaningful. It is a pity that Iñárritu couldn't really transcend cynicism, but why shouldn't there be more cynicism towards an industry that blindly wallows in its own greatness? Maybe he should lighten' up a bit. Maybe he shouldn't emphasize the difficulties of making "art" so much. Yes, yes. Humans aren't flawless, so don't expect them to be. The pure seriousness of Iñárritu's work testifies of his personality: he probably isn't a man of great humor and possibly has issues putting things into perspective sometimes. In the world we live in today, I can relate to that. So yes, cynicism is a red line through some of my favorite films of last year (Youth, Irrational Man, The Big Short, While We're Young, The Lobster): I truly believe our lives are construed through free-market capitalism and cultural navel-gazing; I also believe that's why gleeful entertainment, high profit and their preservation seem to be some of the most important aims left - so we can compare ourselves to others in terms of success. That's my kind of cynicism. But it isn't an indifferent or frustrated cynicism. I see it as a beautiful, joyful way of looking at today's world, provoking me to look for alternatives and solutions in corners and places I haven't looked before, or to find beauty in things that aren't capitalized upon as much. Birdman therefore is a euphoric piece of cinema: it triggers adrenaline in me. It makes me combative and prevents me from throwing in the towel. When I see Mad Max: Fury Road, I enjoy its entertainment value and I'm captivated by its technical and artistic merits. When I see Birdman, I feel compelled to do something more than just passively stare at films and write about them. It's the difference between entertaining and vigorous cinema - the former makes me feel cheerful, the latter makes me more invested in life. I need both.

2. The Duke of Burgundy

Without a doubt, Peter Strickland (Katalin Varga, Berberian Sound Studio) is one of today's masterminds in aesthetic cinema. He proves this mastery yet again in his latest effort The Duke of Burgundy. The stylish costume and production design, the visual perfection, the cunning dialogues, the vivid acting performances, the entrancing score and the thought-provoking script all contribute to one of last year's most immersive experiences. In this movie a lesbian couple lives according to the 'DS' of BDSM: Dominance and Submission. It portrays two female lovers, Evelyn and Cynthia, with a slight age difference who almost constantly maintain the dominant and submissive role in their lives. But who is it that actually dominates: the dom or the sub? Everyone who has some knowledge of or experience with BDSM knows that domination is a layered concept, especially in sexual relations. It's not the rather simplistic notion people read about in 50 Shades of Grey. Christian Grey is an abstraction of the dominant figure. He's nothing more than a (fe)male rape-fantasy. This rape-fantasy however comes closer to DS-reality: in a rape-fantasy it is the person who comes up with the fantasy who is actually being the dominant one. (S)he makes up the rules, the context and the words of the fantasy. (S)he decides who is allowed to "rape" or dominate her/him, not the person who is considered to be the dominant one. Nothing of that in 50 Shades of Grey of course, since this meta-reflection would destroy the fantasy of the book (and film). But that makes it possible for men's rights activists (aka. male chauvinist pigs) to still believe that many women want a strong, dominant man at their side - and those who don't, subconsciously want it. The Duke of Burgundy smashes this ignorant, macho bullshit in its face. There's not one male actor present in this film. And although the director himself is male, it never feels as if he's lusting for some cheap girl-on-girl action. The movie doesn't give in to that lesbian fantasy some men suffer from, since they're not invited to the party. At all. Penetration is just completely absent. The Duke of Burgundy defies our notions of sexuality more than 50 Shades of Grey ever could. This film is must-see material from one of the world's most interesting and promising directors working now.

1. Victoria
Scene one, shot one, take three. Action! ... ... ... Aaaaand... Cut! That's a wrap, people! Translate to German and you get a general idea of how the shooting of Victoria sounded like. Unlike Iñárritu's Birdman, director Sebastian Schipper's Victoria is genuinely a film shot in one long take. It took him three attempts, but the film itself consists out of only one take. It's not the first time this happened in the history of film, but it nevertheless is nothing short of brilliant. After I saw this - two times now - I wanted to swamp everyone with an overload of superlatives. Germany really is a country to keep an eye on: the past few years we got a lot of great stuff from there (Der Samurai, Feuchtgebiete and Oh Boy). It appears this creative wave is not over yet, but we'll have to wait to see if these films get into theaters in Belgium. Some of them were screened uniquely on film festivals, like German Angst, Von jetzt an kein Zurück, True Love Ways and Wir sind jung. Wir sind stark, but others (like Tod den Hippies!! Es lebe der Punk!, Love Steaks, Der Nachtmahr and Der Bunker) seem to get no attention whatsoever. Since Germany is a neighboring country, it often stuns me to see how few German films we get to see in our theaters. Especially compared to French and British films. Luckily Victoria did get a chance. With tons of improvised dialogue, incredibly authentic acting and often discomforting, but humane interactions between the protagonists, this film is really the best thing I've seen in 2015. And although it wasn't particularly underrated, it did deserve a lot more attention and acclaim in the press and on social media. This. Is. Cinema.


I'd like to close this top 25 with some honorable mentions of films that didn't make the cut. The Belgian films Paradise Trips (nice to see lifestyle anarchists and contemporary hippies not being portrayed as a bunch of stupid, juvenile losers) and Le tout nouveau testament (minus the final scenes) were a lot of fun, more so than the slightly overrated (but still very well-made!) D'Ardennen in my opinion. I also enjoyed Relatos salvajes, Turist, Mia madre, Umimachi Diary, Que horas ela volta?, Il capitale umano, La meraviglie, Le petit prince, Les cowboys, El club and the rather underrated Når dyrene drømmer, O menino e o mundo and Tu dors Nicole. American indies like The Diary of a Teenage Girl, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby and Slow West and other mildly popular films like The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, Shaun the Sheep Movie, A Most Violent Year, The Voices, Hungry Hearts and The Gift all too deserve to be mentioned. By contrast, festival favorites like Omoide no Mânî, Mita tova, The Dark Horse, La isla mínima, Mustang, Dheepan, As mil e uma noites, Ixcanul, Hrútar and Shan he gu ren just left me indifferent or even bored. Others were a bit disappointing, like Métamorphoses, Loin des hommes, Lucifer, Xenia and Schneider vs. Bax.

Biopics and historical epics (often the only way Hollywood tries to offer something else than entertainment) still aren't my cup of tea, so Unbroken, The Imitation Game, The Theory of Everything, Foxcatcher, Selma, Bridge of Spies, The Water Diviner, Far from the Madding Crowd, Woman in Gold, Mr. Holmes, Suffragette, Black Mass, Pawn Sacrifice and the most overrated piece-of-crap of last year, American Sniper, didn't do anything for me. I did enjoy some biopics and period drama's though, first and foremost the British (and quite underrated) Belle, followed by Wild, Big Eyes, Jimi: All Is by My Side, Phoenix and Son of Saul. It is very deliberate that I put Son of Saul last. While I absolutely stand in awe of its technical merits, the film itself bothers me: it's too voyeuristic and it appeals too much to the horrific images we associate with the Endlösung. Don't get me wrong, it's certainly not a product of the Holocaust Industry, but it isn't provoking us either. It's too observing. It's like watching a re-enacted documentary. All in all, the film feels to me a bit too much like an application for Europe's arty-farty film elite...

If 2016 will be as good a film year as 2015 was, there won't be much to complain about. Provided that you aim your eyes, heart and brain in the right direction and don't expect anything unrealistic. Don't be deceived by marketing or critical acclaim. Follow your gut. When doing so, every year will have a lot of wonderful movies to offer, and bitter or outdated remarks about lack of talent and creativity, will vanish into thin air. Just don't confuse entrepreneurial sales pitches with genuine, humane enthusiasm - both are optimistic and confident, but the former is deceitful and empty (nothing should be expected from it), while the second is full of life and inherently anarchist.

Top 25 of 2015 (from #10 till #6)

10. While We're Young

Noah Baumbach is a director many love to hate. He is too self-aware, too ironic and not authentic enough. In short: he's a hipster because he was a hipster before hipsterism was hip. Together with fellow citizens Wes Anderson, Woody Allen and Jim Jarmush, Noah has a rather intellectual following. The contemporary hipster-zeitgeist has entered his works since he cast mumblecore favorite Greta Gerwig in Greenberg (and afterwards co-wrote France Ha and Mistress America with her). This influence is very present in While We're Young. An older, fortysomething couple, Cornelia and Josh (Naomi Watts and Ben Stiller), see their peers getting married, have children and do other "grown-up" stuff. A rather disciplined routine has sneaked into their lives and drained all the energy out of them. When they meet the twentysomethings Darby and Jamie (Amanda Seyfried and Adam Driver), they suddenly revitalize. The young couple couldn't care less about social media or the internet, they don't use computers and consciously ignore the digital age. At first glance, their lives even seem to be carefree. Cornelia and Josh are allured by this somewhat primitivist attitude, and it doesn't take long before they fall in love with the younger couple's authentic way of life. This love blinds them from the fact that people remain people, with their own agendas, flaws and issues. While We're Young is not (only) about the young couple keeping up their appearances, it is about the older couple projecting something they deem lost (i.e. authenticity) on the younger couple and inductively finding it. While it may seem a somewhat cynical movie in the end, I feel it is more about the way that people who have lost their joie de vivre can deceive themselves in believing that imperfect things (in this case the pre-digital era, human beings,...) are perfect. It is by embracing the downside of things though, we can see beauty and authenticity without becoming disappointed or disillusioned. And that's exactly the way I look at While We're Young.

9. Black

Aaah, one of Belgium's most critically acclaimed films of 2015! No, not the most hyped film. Like I continue to stress: a hype is created by marketing and buzz. F.C. De Kampioenen 2: Jubilee General! and Safety First - The Movie were the most hyped Belgian movies of 2015. Black, D'Ardennen and Le tout nouveau testament were, in their turn, the most critically acclaimed and - because of that - they created a lot of buzz around their release which then resulted in a hype. Like with all critically acclaimed movies many people feel the urge to rebel against that verdict (that's why a film like F.C. De Kampioenen 2 gets off easy). As if fifteen film journalists have the power to make a definitive judgment against which all other judgments have to be measured. In the meanwhile De Kampioenen is just cashing in (despite negative reviews) and we all forget that Flemish "it's just all about a misunderstanding, oh no, hahahaha!"-humor is still dominating our wallets and bank accounts. For some reason we, as an audience, resent Black because of its unearned reputation, but at the same time we, as an audience, keep paying for adapted-from-television comedies, which we all know is just something that's only about the lulz anyway. We get mad for all the wrong reasons in this country and that's why I will stick with it: Black is one of the best Belgian films ever made. I agree, Adil and Bilall themselves have a very persistent way of showing up everywhere. They embody the kind of over-the-top entrepreneurial spirit and hysterical enthusiasm I find extremely irritating and even fake. Moreover, Black is an obvious Hollywood-influenced movie (Quentin Tarantino, Michael Bay, Tony Scott) with some imagery that clearly was inspired by Harmony Korine's Spring Breakers. In that way, Adil and Bilall have more in common with Jan Verheyen (one of Belgium's most "Hollywoodian" directors) than some care to admit. The difference is that the street cred of Black trumps all of Verheyen's, Bay's and Scott's movies. Like, really, all of them. Combined. So while both directors' attitude in the media may feel phony, their intentions of disrupting comfort zones and their efforts of bringing actual diversity in the Belgian movie scene, are absolutely not. Next time, maybe they should try to write an original script though, so we can see how creative their storytelling skills are.

8. A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence
More often than not, winners of some of Europe's most acclaimed awards (Golden Bear, Golden Palm, Golden Lion) just don't do the trick for me. Nonetheless, a winning streak began in May 2014 (Palm for Winter Sleep), went on to September 2014 (Lion for A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence) and ended in February 2015 (Bear for Taxi). I think that was the first time in my life this happened. The Swedish gem by master of the absurd Roy Andersson, hit all the right buttons. Just like in the Greek Weird Wave, people in Andersson movies are devoid of basic, human emotions. Emotions they lost because of the disenchanted world they live in. It magnifies the cold, apathic and narrow-minded mentality our own world seems to keep cultivating. The Camus- and Beckett-like absurdism of Andersson's A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence is of unprecedented quality. Because of that, this film is not easily digested. Just like in absurdist philosophy, this film resists all attempts to give meaning to it. It just is. The only thing we can do is accept it or, if we don't want to give in to the absurd, reject it. By accepting it, we can feel more liberated, more free. If we reject it, we are confronted by the absence of that which most of us aspire the most: meaning. This absence creates frustration, aversion and disapproval (in relation to the film) or despair, depression and elusive beliefs (in life). Absurdism finally got a few moments in the spotlights again. The icing on the cake though, is the repetitive singing of Felix Anéer's version of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" (here: "Halta Lotta"), which sounds even more bleak when considering the Europe we live in today. Glory, glory, hallelujah, indeed!

7. The Lobster

Imagine a world where there are only two options for every human: being in a relationship or being turned into an animal. Not quite the world many of us would like to live in. Yorgos Lanthimos uses this dystopic tale as an allegory for the state Greece (or Europe, or the whole Western World) is in. There are no real choices, there is no real freedom. Or you go into a relationship (fake it if you have to), or you get cast out as an animal. In The Lobster we see David (Colin Farrell), who has recently been dumped, enter a hotel where all single people get rehabilitated. They get 45 days to find a new partner, otherwise they will be turned into an animal. Those 45 days hang like a noose above their necks, so they use whatever means necessary to find a suitable partner. To extend their stay at the hotel, they have to enter the nearby forest and hunt the singles - for every one of them they shoot, they get an extra day. The only choices they are left with  are completely meaningless (for example: they get to pick their own animal). When David escapes the hotel, he comes across a resistance group of singles. But the alternative isn't as beautiful as he hoped it'd be. The singles have become vengeful and have embraced some very authoritarian rules (for example: you cannot get involved with another human being). Ultimately, it appears every choice left to David, is between the devil and the deep blue sea. What's left is the utterly cynical and black resolution David turns to in the end. Allegoric much? The Lobster, just like Dogtooth and Alps, holds up a mirror to all of us. It may seem suffocating to get confronted with a worldview so grim, but it's not like Yorgos wants us to accept this view of the world. The Greek Weird Wave is a product of the state Greece is in. It's no surprise films like this arise from that country. Instead of only praising the gallows humor and black comedy, we can also approach it as an invite to fight the gruesome "faith" we are all in (and still are heading towards). Seen from that point of view, The Lobster's cynicism is just a witty, spirited and genuine way of confronting us with ourselves.

6. Lost River
Lost River is the perfect example of how a pastiche transcends itself. It is drenched in Terrence Malick and Nicolas Winding Refn (whom Ryan Gosling both thanks in the credits), spiced with David Lynch, a pinch of Harmony Korine and even some giallo dust. It is politically charged like a Michael Moore documentary and at the same time narratively quite dramatic like a Derek Cianfrance pic (whom Ryan also both thanks). With a crew comprising of DoP Benoît Debie (Spring Breakers and permanent DoP of Gaspar Noé and Fabrice Du Welz), composer Johnny Jewel (Bronson and some stuff in Drive) and editors Nico Leunen (Altiplano, The Invader, Kid, Waste Land, N: The Madness of Reason and permanent editor of Felix van Groeningen) and Valdís Óskarsdóttir (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and worked on several occasions with Harmony Korine and Thomas Vinterberg), it is almost impossible to not stay true to those influences. And while those influences are very clear and rather shameless, Ryan Gosling adds to them an almost perfect ingredient: synthesis. It proves he can both direct and write. He has exactly the right finesse and mindset it takes to weave all of the puzzle pieces together in a dreamy, provocative, emotional and reverberating work of art. Even the trailer and video clip-like featurette were of an outstanding nature (although that merit probably goes to the editors). Lost River was scorned and ridiculed by most of the press: the pastiche was labeled as sheer theft and consequently devalued. If you insist in calling it theft, please remember that this so-called theft was so transparent, that the remark of it being theft, is actually quite redundant and it serves no greater purpose than ill-advised slandering. Ryan has made an unfaked, magical experience of all he stole, with dialogues that are borderline poetry, a spellbinding score alongside the many saturated colors that elevate the senses and a political awareness we haven't seen anywhere in his acting career. Lost River, in one word, is immersive. I've watched it two times now and if it keeps on growing the way it does, in some years from now, this may actually become my favorite movie of 2015.

Next up: the top 5!

Top 25 of 2015 (from #15 till #11)

15. It Follows

Why is it that when an indie horror film gets critically acclaimed it immediately becomes hyped, but when a gazillionth haunted house / ghost movie hits theaters, including marketing campaigns on television, numerous websites and public space, we don't use the word "hype"? It Follows, like The Babadook, is a so-called hyped film, but what about Paranormal Activity, The Cabin in the Woods, The Woman in Black, Devil, The Conjuring, Insidious, Mama, Sinister, The Purge, Oculus, Annabelle or Dark Skies? Why aren't they accused of being hyped? It all feels like double standards to me, so I refuse to acknowledge It Follows is more hyped than any of the above. It's undoubtedly a popular film, a lot more than most other indie horror flicks. But so what? If you don't like it, you just don't like it, don't start whining about the film being overhyped. It Follows benefits from the 80s revival, just like The Guest, Ping Pong Summer, The Editor, The Final Girls and Turbo Kid, but it isn't an exploitation movie. While indeed the soundtrack is synth-based and the setting is really limited, its inventive ways to use a completely saturated genre (i.e. ghost stories) is effective and playful. Of course, this isn't a serious movie, nor will it bring about a shift in mainstream horror, but it is something authentically different from most commercial horror flicks these days - especially in its use of colors/lighting, score and casting. It might be that it isn't your cup of tea, even if you're a horror aficionado, just don't blame it for being overhyped (unless you only like obscure horror flicks, but why did you watch it then in the first place?). Finally, a thumbs up for (Brittany Murphy look-alike) Maika Monroe; I'm kinda curious what the future will bring for her!

14. What We Do in the Shadows

Probably one of the wittiest horror comedies in a long time. Vampires and werewolves have become boring and unscary. The 19th century has long gone by and that what makes us really terrified isn't to be found in books or movies anymore; let's just say global Newspeak is doing a better job on that front. What We Do in the Shadows knows scary isn't working anymore. Instead it rediscovers the banned-to-television genre of the mockumentary. Deadpan master Jemaine Clement (Flight of the Conchords) and Taika Waititi, forming the comic duo The Humourbeasts, came up with the idea in 2005 when they made the short What We Do in the Shadows: Interviews with Some Vampires. Vampirism wasn't as hip back then as it is now, but their patience has been rewarded: What We Do in the Shadows is probably one of the most popular films ever to hail from New Zealand (coming in after everything Peter Jackson-related of course). Some entertainment just is more creative than other, and it seems New Zealand has what it takes to make 'serious unserious' horror flicks: from Jackson classics Bad Taste and Braindead, to Black Sheep in 2006, to Housebound, What We Do in the Shadows and Deathgasm the last few years. Waititi has been signed to direct the third Thor installment (Thor: Ragnarok) in 2017. Let's hope something of his deadpan style makes it to the final cut of the new episode in the Marvel 'is-getting-old-real-fast' Universe...

13. La belle saison
Isn't feminism supposed to be totally hip these days? Aren't many educated women self-proclaimed feminists? Or is most of it merely a fad, without real revolutionary vision and attitude, but a way of just identifying oneself? Being a man, it makes it difficult to proclaim that feminism nowadays is often a liberal pose (defined in terms of rights and career opportunities) than a true radical stance that concerns itself with anarchist, transgender or transnational issues. Luckily I see a lot of conflict within feminist organizations and movements, although politicians and other female authoritarian figures will often emphasize and embrace more white and privileged visions on feminism. Today, if feminism isn't just a trend to you, intersectionality is probably one of your main concerns. That's what La belle saison is all about. Unlike Suffragette, which is a representation of feminist history many like to see and applaud, La belle saison doesn't try to impose us with liberal superiority. This movie is really all about a romance between two women during the 1970s, not a way to divert feminist history away from people like Emma Goldman or Rosa Luxemburg and make it all about Emmeline Pankhurst and suffrage. Because of that, La belle saison is a very humane, complex film that doesn't push its viewers towards one side. It transcends liberal notions of femininity and oppression, and captivates its audience by way of its score, photography, humor, acting and dialogue. This movie is highly underrated and deserved so much more attention. Especially recommended for those who liked Olivier Assayas' Après mai.

12. Knight of Cups

Malick. Oh boy. If there's one director that polarizes audiences, it must be him. I couldn't bare some of the muddled reviews and pompous praise The New World, The Tree of Life and To the Wonder got. I saw his movies were special, unique and had a lot of creativity in them, but they all felt distant, unemotional and outright woolly. And that was exactly the problem. They all aspired to be spiritual, poetic and immersive; they were aimed at our senses and emotions, while they debunked more cerebral and rational approaches. Ironically, it was only in a rational way I could grasp this: I understood rationally what these movies aspired to be (which I applaud very much!), but I didn't feel it (so, in the end, to me, Malick failed). Enter Knight of Cups. The circumstances in which I saw this movie were almost exactly the same as I saw the previous movies, so it's not like I was high on drugs, was emotionally more invested or had a very receptive moment due to whatever cause. Nevertheless it overwhelmed me. Big time. It was as if Malick, after experimenting in his previous works, finally hit the right spot. The religious mumbo-jumbo of The Tree of Life was gone, as was the poetic celebration of love and romance of To the Wonder. Knight of Cups has - of course - a lot in common with Malick's older films, but its spirituality is more of an atheistic, contemporary kind (no Christian symbolism!), and its romance is more concerned with happiness / sadness and life / death than with downright emotions (no love story!). There's a reason why I thought the father-son relationship and the priest's speeches were some of the most redundant elements of the whole film: they reminded me too much of The Tree of Life and To the Wonder. Malick should let go of narrativity completely, because it distracts too much from the audiovisual and meditative flow of the moment. If Malick really is all about mesmerizing his audience, abolishing linearity while maintaining contemplative spoken word, should be his primary concern. In short: let go of meaning and let experience take over. Maybe Malick's magnum opus is still in the making.

11. The Big Short
The world is dictated by man-made laws being sold as natural, free-market laws. People in power get cynical because the whole situation feels inevitable: we are at the end of history and capitalism has triumphed, the only conflict left is of a cultural nature, not of an economical. That's the story we've been told since the end of the 1980s: communist, socialist, nationalist and statist ideologies are remnants of the past (as they should be) and we have nothing left to turn to. Free-market capitalism is possibly the biggest piece of smothering, dangerous and self-deceiving propaganda the world has ever seen. We get paralyzed by it. We get cynical. And because we get paralyzed and cynical, this propaganda becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The Big Short is a tale of this state the world is in, seen from the eyes of some of the naive hypocrites who sail the ship: hedge funders, rating agents, big bankers and businessmen, real estate agents, privately funded economic scientists, financial entrepreneurs, laissez faire capitalists, traders and stockbrokers, commercial journalists,... All those who safeguard the never-ending status quo of the financial and capitalist world. In The Big Short there are no good guys, not even the ethically confused Mark Baum (Steve Carell), the speculative Michael Burry (Christian Bale) or the disillusioned Ben Rickert (Brad Pitt). Sometimes they say or even do "the right thing", but in the end they all are trapped by the dictatorship of free-market laws they abide by, wish to preserve or see no alternative to. That's why The Big Short can be such a beautiful film: it embodies sheer free-market capitalism (A-list actors, big budget, sells criticism as a commodity,...), but it fails to glorify it through its content - it bursts the bubble of it being "free". Some might say it's cynical, but it's only cynical if you still hope for change while Wall Street or free-market capitalism thrive (or believe freedom and free-market capitalism can co-exist). The Big Short shows us that the system we all live in today is truly, inherently bankrupt (pun intended). And while our belief in free-market capitalism crumbles, the film proves that this "awakening" can be "taught" in a fun, gratifying way. It's like an enthusiastic, didactically dubious professor of economy has made an effort to explain the whole situation to us in a sexy and comic fashion. Or like a TED Talk where things get clarified as being beyond hope, as long as we expect solutions to come from reformist policies instead of revolutionary acts and the total negation of capitalism. Finally, The Big Short, for me, legitimizes the treatment of political and judicial authorities, financial institutions and those who propagate free-market capitalism with utter contempt.

Next up: films 10 to 6!

Top 25 of 2015 (from #20 till #16)

20. Irrational Man

A Woody Allen movie is always somewhat of an intellectual movie. It will come as no surprise that most of his fanbase is comprised out of lefties and philosophy or literature majors. Irrational Man is exactly the kind of movie that is directed towards them. Joaquin Phoenix plays Abe Lucas, a professor in philosophy who suffers from an existential crisis. When he comes across Jill Pollard (Emma Stone), an enthusiastic student of him, it appears he gradually finds joy again. But it is something of a completely other nature that makes him overcome his crisis. Something that, at the same time, will test his new relationship with Jill. The characters and dialogue are frivolous in the typical, intellectualist Allen-way. The atmosphere and humor are dark while maintaining a constant, almost unbearable cheerfulness. It is because of this frivolity and cheerfulness Irrational Man never is a full-on intellectual movie. Just like Allen's older work the film reflects on problems and worries which are all quite "First World", meaning they are inherent to people who have the time and energy to think about life and 'the big questions'. Most of Allen's movies are directed towards First Worlders and the sorrows that afflict them. This film is primarily focused on the philosophical concept l'ennui, or boredom. It has been a major concern of many 19th and 20th century philosophers and Allen now tries to look for a (rather cynical) way to get out of this existential void. Intellectualist? Yes, but not in a metaphysical, essayistic or highly theoretical way. Ennuyeux? Absolutely not.

19. Reality

Charlie Kaufman, look out, you're getting competition. After several 'certified weird' movies, Quentin "Mr. Oizo" Dupieux (Rubber, Wrong, Wrong Cops) finally made a movie that wasn't just aimed at a hipster audience. Reality may be full of self-referring puns and props, people who haven't seen his previous works won't be confused by them or even notice them. It still is a highly ironic movie, but at the same time Dupieux seems to explore the unique style of meta-master Kaufman. In Reality director Jason Tantra is looking to fund his film 'Waves'. The producer he contacted is completely convinced of his ridiculous story (about televisions that literally kill people), but wants Jason to look for the perfect scream before he signs off on the project. While the director is trying to nail this perfect scream, he discovers his movie is actually already made (by Dupieux himself maybe?). Logic is nowhere to be found in Reality, especially because Dupieux puts another, Lynchian layer to the story; a layer about another director who makes a movie (for the same producer) about a girl who finds a videotape in a wild boar. Reality is somewhat of a weird curiosity and because of that it'll eventually become cult. Dupieux is very aware of that fact though, which make his movies always kinda conceited. However, in a way his ironic, hipster vibe is an authentic snapshot of today's zeitgeist. It raises the question of how far a film can go in grasping itself through its own medium without becoming trivial or redundant. Dupieux, just like Kaufman, really is expanding today's cinematic frontiers. Next step: seeing ourselves watching ourselves at the end of a movie, as an unexpected plot twist!

18. Taxi

Low budget and subversive filmmaking have acquired a new dimension. Taxi is Panahi's third film made while being banned from directing, but its silent protest sounds louder than ever. Panahi casts himself as a taxi driver, roaming the streets of Teheran and picking up passengers (played by anonymous actors). Although the film is staged and thus fictional, the themes, conversations and secrecy are very real. Iran's censorship is provoking Panahi to keep on making films without really attacking Iranian society itself. He merely shows it, including its defaults. Strong, transgressive criticism can still flourish in societies that smother freedom of speech. It's much harder to make "dangerous" movies in so-called free societies. Taxi is a reminder of this fragile condition most Western societies are in, especially today. Freedom of speech is being questioned by the same people that use it to spread hatred and racism. We all claim to be Charlies, but in the end we can't cope with real diversity of opinion since ours is always better and more true than that of others. In that way Jafar Panahi also defies our own conception of freedom of speech, especially through all of the dialogue we hear from the passengers he picks up with his taxi. His movie is the embodiment of true freedom of speech, which we all applaud. But his movie equally shows the frustration that opposing opinions trigger in people: you can't hurt or kill them for it, but it feels so gratifying when a powerful authority thinks and speaks the same way we do (frequently forgetting these authorities are often the reason why we think the way we do). When these powerful authorities take measures to marginalize, ridicule or silence other opinions, we believe this to be proof of our own superiority. It can be through bans or censorship, like in Iran. But it can manifest itself more subtle: through ignoring or trivializing certain voices and communities. This can be done by knowingly or blindly discriminating others because of their views, or by trying to provoke illegal actions by not considering or taking into account other people's opinions (and thereby discrediting them), like in the West. In a way, Panahi's situation has the benefit of being more clear. We, in the West, can only point to vague or intuitive feelings of repression, 'cause public opinion really believes we have total freedom of speech. Is it even possible for us to make a subversive movie like Taxi? And, moreover, should we be glad and reassured if the answer is 'no'?

17. Sicario

I expected a serious American film about the drug war at the border of Mexico and the United States for a long time now (it has already been 15 years since Traffic), but I didn't expect it to come from Denis Villeneuve (my more evident, rather biased guesses were Iñárritu or Cuarón). It proved to be the right man for the job. Incendies showed his affinity with ethico-political complex situations, Prisoners demonstrated his ability to create nail-biting suspense and Enemy revealed his craftsmanship concerning visual style. Sicario is a synthesis of all those merits. It is one of the most brutal, morally complex, visually stylistic and adrenaline packed movies of last year. Above all, it confronts us with a situation that's been going on for decades, where extremely violent cartels, corruption on both sides of the border and endless smuggling of drugs and migrants create unbearable living conditions for millions of people throughout Mexico. The official death toll of the drug war is estimated above 120.000, not including several thousands who have gone missing. Juárez, the city depicted in this movie, is one of the most dangerous places in the world because of its constant violence. People get killed every day in that city, which makes it an actual war zone. Sicario, a Spanish term for 'hitman', shines a light on this ferocious reality through the eyes of an American FBI agent. We see her principles and values deteriorate in the gruesome context of the drug war. This is a necessary film, although its sheer brutality and hopelessness might scare off some people. For those who want to know more about the subject, see the documentaries Narco Cultura or Cartel Land. Want to see a Mexican point of view? I'd recommend Sin nombre, La jaula de oro and Heli. Just don't expect to find a more comforting picture in those films...

16. Theeb

It remains to be seen if Theeb will get the attention it truly deserves. A lot will depend on the winning of an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, but its competition is fierce, especially from festival favorites Son of Saul and Mustang. My support goes out to Theeb though, because I'm just not feeling the universal acclaim for Son of Saul, nor do I buy into the inauthentic celebration of liberated femininity in Mustang. Theeb on the other hand, presents us with a story of survival and adventure against the backdrop of World War I in Hejaz, seen from the eyes of a young Bedouin boy. Its imagery is stunningly beautiful and the poetic use of Arabic language casts a cinematic spell on its viewers. The word 'theeb' means 'wolf' and at the same time it is the name of the boy - an allegoric way of telling us people sometimes have to become wolves to survive, especially in harsh conditions. When Theeb's older brother is requested to guide a British officer to a well across the pilgrims' trail in the Wadi Rum, the young one follows him into the desert, unknowing this will be the start of a ruthless struggle for survival. This film can best be described as a coming-of-age story or as a western, both not in a traditional way. On top of that, the execution is exceptionally enchanting. So while Naji Aby Nowar grew up and partly studied in Britain, this movie nonetheless empowers Arabic filmmaking by showing it has more to offer than most people would expect.

Next up: films 15 to 11!