Do
the Right Thing
by
Howard Schumann
I have been critical of films that sidestep issues of conscience
for broader appeal, so when a film comes along that tackles the issue
head on, it is important to take notice. Set in Southern Italy in 1978,
I'm Not Scared by Gabriele Salvatores (Mediterraneo)
is about a child who discovers a small boy hidden in a cavernous hole
near an abandoned farmhouse and acts with courage and compassion to
"do the right thing." The film has aspects of a standard commercial
product with lush music and pseudo-lyrical slow motion shots, but it
also embodies an artistic sensibility that expressively captures the
world of a child in its wonder, innocence, and beauty. It is about a
young person's awakening of conscience.
Ten-year old Michele, exquisitely performed by first-time actor Giuseppe
Cristiano, is outgoing, intelligent, and strong-willed, and there is
a great deal of warmth and knowing in his face that makes us instinctively
care about him. Michele and his friends play in the vast golden wheat
fields during summer, and all seems idyllic. But when Michele looks
for a pair of glasses lost by his sister Maria (Giulia Matturo), he
makes an unexpected discovery. Beneath a straw-covered plank in the
ground he finds Filippo (Mattia Di Pierro), a scared, dirty, and almost
blind boy of his own age. The child, chained to a stake and barely alive,
is subject to hallucinations and believes that he is dead and that Michele
is his guardian angel. We don't know if the boy is a "wild child"
or the victim of an unspeakable crime. Instead of reporting his finding
to his overburdened mother (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon), or his moody working
class father (Dino Abbrescia), he keeps the secret to himself, bringing
bread and water to the starving boy, and the two develop a mystical
bond of friendship.
When Michele finds out the shocking reason that Filippo is in the cave,
he discovers the strength within himself to stand up for what he thinks
is right, even though it leaves him open to potentially damaging consequences.
I'm Not Scared does not idealize children and paint all adults
as evil. The children can be ruthless in cruelly teasing the weakest
members of their group and in selling out to the wrongdoers for trifles
-- for example, just to sit at the wheel of a car.
The
adults commit a heinous crime out of the desperation of poverty or for
unstated political reasons, but their love for their own children is
clear. Based on a novel by Niccoló Amminiti, I'm Not Scared
is part suspense drama and part coming-of-age story, but cannot
be neatly categorized. It is has a strange otherworldly and mythical
quality to it, like a cinematic dream and the result is not vacuously
uplifting but powerfully moving. In discovering the cave where Filippo
is hidden, Michele truly discovers a cave "filled with gems and
gold".
In
Vietnam , a cyclo is both the driver of a bicycle taxi and a name given
to the taxi itself. In Tran Anh Hung's 1995 film Cyclo,
the cyclo driver is a naïve 18-year old (Le Van Loc) whose innocence
is corrupted by the choices he is compelled to make to escape the circle
of grinding poverty. Cyclo is far removed from the director's
introspective and contemplative dramas (Scent of Green Papaya, Vertical
Ray of the Sun) that preceded and followed it. In Cyclo,
Tran assaults our senses with the churning swirl of colors and sounds
of Ho Chi Minh City, capturing the vibrations of the city with its street
markets, pavement cafes, sidewalk vendors, and choking traffic. He also
shows the underbelly of the city: its violence, flesh for hire, and
atmosphere of poverty, dirt, and decay. While the violence is graphic
and unsettling, it is not exploitative and without the glamour associated
with gangster films. Cyclo has little dialogue,
mostly gestures and silences, and cinematographer Benoit Delhomme's
focus on the underlying beauty of the city gives the film a lyricism
that renders the violence ambiguous.
Cyclo has lost both parents and lives in near poverty with his grandfather (Le Kinh Huy), who continues to work fixing bicycle tires despite his failing health. His younger sister earns a living by shining shoes outside of restaurants and the older sister works as a cook and delivery person. Cyclo's father was also a pedicab driver but was killed when he was hit by a truck. Cyclo's boss (Nguyen Nhu) is known only as the Boss Lady (none of the characters in the film are named) who leads a criminal operation while taking care of her retarded son. When Cyclo's bicycle is stolen by a rival gang, the young man is recruited by the Boss lady and her associate, The Poet (Tony Leung Chiu Wai), a small-time hoodlum and pimp, to work off his debt.
The Poet is involved with robberies, sabotage, drug trafficking, and prostitution, and is no stranger to homicide. He is strangely sympathetic to Cyclo, however, and seems to share with him the common longing for an absent father as revealed in the poetry he reads to him. Cyclo asks to
join his gang but, in response, is forced to witness a mobster singing lullabies while he knifes a victim who is bound and gagged. Unknown to Cyclo, the Poet recruits his older sister into prostitution, making her available to men interested in various fetishes while preserving her virginity, presumably out of his own love for her. When her virginity is finally violated, The Poet tracks down and brutally murders the offending patron. Cyclo is forced to stay in an apartment away from his family and told to perform errands for the gang such as smuggling dope hidden in slaughtered cattle and throwing a gasoline firebomb into the building of the rival gang that stole his pedicab.
Tran's vision is hallucinatory and unnerving and I often found myself unable to distinguish between what is real and what is a dream. The story is told from Cyclo's perspective and we enter his mind to witness
his steady descent into confusion and fear, culminating in a memorable sequence where he combines pills and liquor and drenches himself in blue paint. Cyclo is disturbing and raw but it is an original work of art, both a brutal and often bizarre look at Saigon 's mean streets, and a searing love poem to the city and a young man who finally steps outside the vicious circle to discover himself beyond the chaos.
©2004 Howard Schumann
CineScene