Time Of The Gypsies YIFY
Obviously I'm missing something here. As I write this, over seventy five percent of IMDb visitors to this film rate it higher than an '8', and not one of the reviewers on this forum gave it less than a '4'. Not that it deserves a 1,2, or 3 rating, but it just seems unusual to me. Maybe it's a cultural thing, or maybe I just don't get what Emir Kusturica is trying to say with his pictures. His "Black Cat, White Cat" struck me the same way, and I did only slightly better with "Underground". Like the first picture I mentioned, the characters here aren't very appealing, to the point of being almost annoying. None of them will be making the pages of Esquire or Vanity Fair anytime soon. And what's with the preponderance of waterfowl? There were plenty of geese in that one too. The hook for this story is the protagonist Perhan (Davor Dujmovic) having telekinetic ability, which he uses as a means to astonish or frighten others. It also proves to be his undoing in the final act, when he uses a flying fork to dispatch his uncle. Between the language barrier and somewhat disjointed scenes, I'm puzzled as to how this film cracks IMDb's Top 250 list, making it for the first time in 2020. I can't see it remaining there beyond a year.
Time of the Gypsies YIFY
They talk and talk. "Shoah" is a torrent of words, and yet the overwhelming impression, when it is over, is one of silence. Lanzmann intercuts two kinds of images. He shows the faces of his witnesses. And then he uses quiet pastoral scenes of the places where the deaths took place. Steam engines move massively through the Polish countryside, down the same tracks where trains took countless Jews, gypsies, Poles, homosexuals and other so-called undesirables to their deaths. Cameras pan silently across pastures, while we learn that underneath the tranquility are mass graves. Sometimes the image is of a group of people, gathered in a doorway, or in front of a church, or in a restaurant kitchen.
His methods in obtaining the interviews were sometimes underhanded. He uses a concealed television camera to record the faces of some of the old Nazi officials whom he interviews, and we look over the shoulders of the TV technicians in a van parked outside the buildings where they live. We see the old men nonchalantly pulling down charts from the wall to explain the layout of a death camp, and we hear their voices, and at one point when a Nazi asks for reassurance that the conversation is private, Lanzmann provides it. He will go to any length to obtain this testimony.
He does not, however, make any attempt to arrange his material into a chronology, an objective, factual record of how the "Final Solution" began, continued and was finally terminated by the end of the war. He uses a more poetic, mosaic approach, moving according to rhythms only he understands among the only three kinds of faces we see in this film: survivors, murderers and bystanders. As their testimony is intercut with the scenes of train tracks, steam engines, abandoned buildings and empty fields, we are left with enough time to think our own thoughts, to meditate, to wonder.
What is so important about "Shoah" is that the voices are heard of people who did see, who did understand, who did comprehend, who were there, who know that the Holocaust happened, who tell us with their voices and with their eyes that genocide occurred in our time, in our civilization. 041b061a72