Hi, this is Daniel Garber at the Movies for culturalmining.com and CIUT 89.5 FM.

There was a dearth of European movies at TIFF this year with far fewer high-profile films from countries like France, Benelux, Scandinavia, Romania and Poland. But there were still some very good ones. So this week, I’m talking about three new European films that were featured at TIFF. There’s a mom with a baby in Copenhagen, an army deserter in Tyrol, and a funeral-goer in southeastern France.

Miséricordia 

Dir: Alain Guiraudie (Review: Stranger by the Lake)

Jeremie (Félix Kysyl) is a boyish-looking man from Toulouse returning to the tiny village of L’Aveyron in southeastern France. He’s there for a funeral, the untimely death of the village’s baker. Jeremie knows the village and all its people very well, as he was the baker’s assistant for many years. He asks the baker’s widow, Martine (Catherine Frot), if he can stay there for a few days. 

She puts him up in her adult son Vincent’s old room (Jean-Baptiste Durand) — which still look’s like it’s a kid’s room. Vincent, though, is a married adult, a tough guy known for his moodiness and sudden bursts of anger. Then there’s Walter (David Ayala), the town recluse, a large, droopy man with coarse features who seldom speaks with anyone other than his dog and Vincent.  And an Abbey from an ancient monastery who always seems to turns up when anything significant happens. 

So Jeremie’s presence upsets the local rhythm. Vincent treats Jeremie like they’re still kids, picking play-fights with him, grabbing and punching. He uses his key to barge in on Jeremie in bed at 4 am (on his way to work, he says). He suspects Jeremie is sleeping with hismom. But in reality, Jeremie seems more attracted to the late baker than his wife.  When Jeremie drops by Walter’s place for some chat and a few glass of the local pastis — Walter warns him not to let Vincent know he was there. With his tongue and inhibitions loosened Jeremie comes on to Walter sexually which shocks and confuses the much bigger man. By the next morning there’s a dead body buried in the woods, a witness, a killer trying to keep it a secret, and the gendarmes starting an investigation. Whodunnit, who will get caught, and what will happen to the rest of the  characters?

Miséricordia is a cross between dark comedy and film noir. Like a stage play, it’s full of dialogue overheard through half open doors, people disappearing behind curtains or hiding in someone else’s bed. It deals with lust and passion — and compassion,  anger but also forgiveness (Misericordia is Latin for mercy). And a fair amount of unexpected erotic nudity. It’s shot on grainy colour film, among the ancient whitewashed houses, stone monastery, and the wilds of the nearby forests — it’s visually beautiful. Alain Guiraudie who directed the great Stranger by the Lake once again crafts an unusual mystery with a queer undercurrent. 

This is a really good movie.

Vermiglio

Dir: Maura Delpero

It’s near the end of WWII in a mountainous village tucked away in Tyrolia, northern Italy. Two faces arrive in town one day, one familiar, one unknown. They are both deserters, Italian soldiers press-ganged into the German army, but the stranger, a Sicilian named Pietro (Giuseppe De Domenico), knows only this friend Attilio, he served with. He also saved his life and practically carried him all the way home. Pietro’s Italian is totally different to them so he seldom speaks. They put them up in a barn, just to be safe, and feed them. 

The patriarch of this village is Cesare (Tommaso Ragno) a highly respected schoolteacher with ten kids of his own. Most of the kids sleep together, some three to a bed, and there’s a constant stream of patter and dialogue within the family. The oldest daughter is Lucia (Martina Scrinzi), named after the village’s patron saint. There’s also Flavia, the precocious daughter and Ada the religious one. Lucia knows nothing about sex, but does know she likes Pietro. They flirt, court, kiss, and marry. He signs up for the adult literacy lessons his new father-in-law teaches. And finally, as Lucia’s belly grows, he abruptly leaves the village for a short visit home in far-off Sicily. But when he fails to return after months away without even a postcard, Lucia begins to worry. What has happened to her Pietro?

Vermiglio gives a look at the consequences of ambition, rivalry, love and betrayal in an isolated village where everyone knows what everyone else is doing. It follows all the members of this family, though especially the daughters and their hard-working mother (10 kids!) over the course of one year.There’s a lovely ebb and flow, with characters appearing and disappearing, deftly  interwoven throughout the film in dialogue and action. Though linear in structure there’s no clear explanation of much of what is going on — you have to figure that out yourself.  Filmed under soft natural lighting, you’re as likely to see an extreme closeups of milking a cow’s udders, as you are a furtive kiss. I found Vermiglio fascinating and empathetic — you really care about what happens to all these characters.

I like this one.

The Girl with the Needle

Co-Wri/Dir: Magnus von Horn

It’s WWI in Copenhagen Denmark. Karoline (Vic Carmen Sonne) works in a sweatshop making uniforms. She hasn’t heard from her husband Peter since he enlisted with the Germans, and without his income she’s behind on her rent and faces eviction. In desperation she visits the factory owner Jørgen (Joachim Fjelstrup) and asks for her military widow’s pension. But without any proof of his death, there’s nothing he can do. But he does find her attractive and soon they are having furtive sex in back alleys. Inevitably  she gets pregnant so he does the honourable thing and proposes… until his aristocratic mother stops him cold. Not only won’t he marry her, she must be fired from her job. Meanwhile, it seems her husband was not killed at the battlefront, but he’s unrecognizable. Peter (Besir Zeciri) now wears a mask to cover his face that had been blown off and them sewn back together. Peter now works at a carnival freak show revealing his face for a few krone.

In desperation, Karoline takes a knitting needle to a public bath and attempts to kill the foetus in her womb by jabbing it, but ends up injuring herself and nearly passing out. But she’s spotted by  Dagmar (Trine Dyrholm) who runs a local candy store, and her pretty, blonde daughter  Erena (Ava Knox Martin). She nurses her and tells her what to do if she starts bleeding again. And she gives her a bag of candy with the shop’s address on it. Dagmar is always there when there’s no one else to turn to. And when she finally gives birth, penniless and homeless, Caroline shows up at the candy store asking for help give away her baby. She can’t afford to pay her — this is a business, Dagmar reminds her — but agrees to let her stay there for now, as an on-call wet nurse. Many young women pass through there with their kids, so she’s always ready to lend a hand. But what really happens to those babies?

Based on a true story, The Girl with the Needle is a powerful movie about a horrifying case that shocked the world (no spoilers). It shows us a Copenhagen riddled with friction and sharp divisions between the haves and have-nots. It also repeats a theme of disturbing images of grotesquely deformed faces. It’s shot in glorious black and white by the Polish cinematographer Michal Dymek, who also filmed Jerzy Skolimowski’s  EO two years ago. There’s some serious acting here, especially the three main women. This is one of those jaw-dropping movies where you go in expecting a conventional, scary-type horror movie, but you end up watching something much bigger than that. This is a fantastic and very disturbing movie, but with a touch of hope.

And it’s Denmark’s choice for the Oscar for best international Feature.

Keep your eyes peeled for Miséricordia, The Girl with the Needle, and Vermiglio, that all played at TIFF and should be opening theatrically over the next year.

This is Daniel Garber at the Movies, each Saturday morning, on CIUT 89.5 FM and on my website culturalmining.com.