hoda moghadasi

The series Disclaimer initially appears to be a simple drama, beginning with the introduction of its successful female protagonist, Catherine, played by Cate Blanchett. From the very first party scene, her body language and appearance signal an independent, accomplished woman. The mere casting of Cate Blanchett in this role, without any additional backstory, immediately conveys this persona, thanks to the actress’s history of portraying such characters. At the start, the introduction of various characters and the lack of clear distinction between which ones belong to which storyline can be confusing for the general audience. This unconventional opening may have led some casual viewers to stop watching the series. However, I believe that what follows contains one of the best twists in television. From the second episode onward, as the storytelling structure becomes clearer and the characters’ past and present identities are revealed, the audience enters the second phase of the series. At this point, they begin searching for the truth, narrated through the voice of a woman. The series’ reliance on narration is one of its most compelling aspects, shaping both the screenplay and its execution. This narrative approach aligns with one of the most renowned storytelling techniques in cinema history—the “Rashomon Effect.” The Rashomon Effect refers to a phenomenon in which multiple people witness the same event but recount it from their own perspective, leading to conflicting versions of the truth. This cinematic term originated from Akira Kurosawa’s famous film Rashomon, where a single story is told from four different viewpoints, each seemingly entirely factual based on the evidence presented. Ultimately, the audience is left to determine what the absolute truth is. The core idea behind this approach stems from the relativity of truth—a truth that can shift depending on the observer’s perspective. As Kurosawa illustrates in Rashomon, differing viewpoints, individual personalities, and even conflicts of interest can create a situation where justice becomes clouded by doubt and uncertainty. Since Rashomon, many films and television series have adopted this narrative structure, including some Iranian examples, such as Abdolhossein Davoodi’s Crazy Rook (Rokh-e Divaneh). However, Alfonso Cuarón takes a more intelligent and innovative approach to the Rashomon Effect in Disclaimer. The story begins with a narrator who was not even present at the event—the mother of a boy we see in flashbacks... Read continue on my instagram and letterbox.

Starting with #bonesandall, however, the poetic quality of his direction gradually diminished, culminating in his latest film, #Queer. I see this film as a combination of Guadagnino’s poetic sensibilities and that same fantasy-thriller element. The film’s uncertainty, though, stems from the fact that these two aspects are entirely separate and never converge. The final third of the film feels like an Indiana Jones adventure in Guadagnino’s style, while the first two parts are an unremarkable romantic drama typical of him. Compared to #call_me_by_your_name, this film lacks any deep or lasting emotional impact. The character of Eugene has no clear or compelling definition, and Lee is equally shallow. Guadagnino often relies on lengthy setups before getting to the heart of the story, but in most of his films, these long introductions build much of the emotional foundation that the audience needs later on. Here, however, they feel completely unnecessary. That said, I did enjoy the final part of the film—from its Suspiria-like imagery to the characters’ struggle for a new experience within a fantastical setting. I only wish the film had started from the final third with the forest entry. If it had, the ending could have felt infinitely more fitting. All in all, let’s leave this as a new experience… #queer_movie #lucaguadagnino #danielcraig #drewstarkey

I stumbled upon the movie by accident, and seeing the director’s name made me determined to watch it: the famous Liv Ullmann, the beautiful woman I knew from Ingmar Bergman’s exceptional films. The title of the book the movie is adapted from gave me even more reason to watch it: Miss Julie, a one-act play by August Strindberg. The movie was so compelling and engaging for me that I watched it nonstop. The outstanding performances by Colin Farrell and Jessica Chastain, combined with Ullmann’s utterly simple and clean framing, and the incredible dialogues, left me no room to even think. The film’s rating on major movie review sites is surprisingly low, and I believe the only reason for this is its theatrical tone. Despite the director’s efforts, the movie feels more like a great play than a cinematic experience—which, of course, is often the case with adaptations of plays. It reminded me of the well-known and popular film A Streetcar Named Desire by Elia Kazan, based on Tennessee Williams’ iconic play of the same name. That film also features some of the finest performances by Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh. Here, however, beyond conventional cinematic expectations, the director’s approach focuses on the characters, their tone, and the audience’s ultimate perception of their emotions. This stands in contrast to prioritizing form and mise-en-scène, which makes it a better theatrical production. After watching the movie, it was exactly 3 a.m., and I had this strange urge to read the play—it’s short anyway. I found a translation by Asghar Rastgar. Right after reading it, I became certain: Ullmann should have been a theater director. The characters in the play are slightly more humorous and shallow. Julie is carefree and cheerful, and John is a lustful rural man—completely different from Ullmann’s interpretation. Her decision to determine the exact moments her characters should laugh, cry, shout, remain silent, stare, or look away provides an intriguing take on a play that, at the time of its writing, was considered revolutionary in both its story and form. John’s lines, with just a change in tone, transform into lamentations about the suffering of the lower class, and in this context, they take on a new and unique meaning as critiques of capitalism and aristocracy. I thoroughly enjoyed it! I hope you enjoy it too

“If you’re a fan of DC content and Batman, you should definitely watch #ThePenguin. Even if you’re like me and aren’t, but you enjoy well-crafted, engaging, and entertaining shows, you should also watch it. And if you belong to neither group but appreciate brilliant performances, you should still watch it. #ColinFarrell is excellent, though not as exceptional as #CristinMilioti, who is phenomenal in her role as Sofia. Pay attention to the difference in her performance in episode four, which features an extended flashback to her past, compared to other episodes.

Let me start by saying this upfront: watch the film Spencer by the same director, Pablo Larraín, and set aside his other biographical works—whether it’s Jackie starring Natalie Portman or Maria starring Angelina Jolie. In my opinion, Kristen Stewart in Spencer outshines them all. Why all these comparisons? Because these films are made with the exact same approach, form, and structure; only the main characters change. Spencer tells the story of Princess Diana, Jackie is about the wife of the late U.S. President Kennedy, and the latest, Maria, revolves around the legendary opera singer Maria Callas. I don’t have an issue with the films or their structure—on the contrary, they’re very captivating. But how can you look at three important women, each with vastly different roles in their respective worlds, through the same lens? What happens if you put Maria in place of Spencer, or vice versa? Unfortunately, unlike his previous works, the director’s latest film is a repetition of a familiar form he enjoys, without capturing the essence of his female character. Maria Callas, whom I’ve admired since my youth and whose operas I’ve listened to, is, as reflected in her surviving photos and footage, a bold and passionate woman who knows no boundaries. Yet in this film, despite Maria claiming to be such a person, she doesn’t resemble herself, even in the flashback sequences. You can’t find anything about her inner self, her sorrow, or its cause in the movie. The screenplay, written by the director and the writer of the acclaimed and well-crafted Locke, is full of subtle, hidden details and is highly engaging. Choosing this specific part of Callas’ life, starting the narrative, and blending imagination with reality is very compelling. However, unlike in Spencer, the director has fallen behind the story this time. The beautiful Parisian long shots and photo-like flashbacks fail to integrate Maria’s conflicting emotions with the story’s progression, nor do they effectively portray the intersection of imagination and illusion. Recall the final scene where the interviewer’s son disappears from the frame to decisively state, “I am just a figment of her imagination.” Yet, long before this, Maria had repeated multiple times that “I write my own story” or hinted at an undefined appointment, leaving no mystery for the audience. This overtly emphasized illusion, which was revealed from the very beginning, didn’t need so much repetition. The director’s captivating style, after seeing two films with the same perspective, is no longer as engaging in a new work that carries such a big name. The discussion about Maria is a long one, which in itself means the film is worth watching. #Maria_Movie #Maria2024 #Pablo_Larraín #Spencer2021 #AngelinaJolie

After a lot of resistance, I finally watched the new Joker, and surprisingly, I didn’t dislike it. The film is full of visually captivating shots that are indebted to the Joker’s imagination; the image speaks louder than words. The choice of a musical genre to express a psychological thriller is a very smart move. The director’s boldness in selecting this genre, which is typically associated with romantic comedies, is one of the film’s highlights. Just look at the fire sequence and the duet dance between Joaquin Phoenix and Lady Gaga, which occasionally reminds you of the madness in Leos Carax’s Lovers on the Bridge. But why doesn’t Todd Phillips’ new Joker have the same popularity as previous Jokers or even his own previous Joker? I think aside from the musical form of the film, which isn’t particularly popular with today’s audience, the mood of the Joker itself has let down his fans. He’s a pitiful, shackled, and weak prisoner. Even as someone who isn’t a huge Joker fan, I was constantly waiting for his release and the chaos he would cause, an expectation that certainly comes from the history of the character. The new Joker, however, shows no signs of the free-spirited, lawless character we’ve come to expect. He seems disillusioned and insane, and aside from a scene at the end where he defends himself—or doesn’t—there’s nothing else that generates excitement. Interestingly, this part of the film made it even more compelling for me. The director’s view of an antagonist is completely different from our assumptions. He portrays this fictional hero only in the dreams of the character, as Hollywood has shaped it for us, while the rest of the story follows the real course of a real life. Even the ending is aligned with this reality: no hero from the lower, ordinary class of society, even with public support, will ever truly be the winning hero—not even the Joker!

The first season remains the best season of the series, with all the allure of the season four location and the exceptional performances of Jodie Foster and Kali Reis. However, the storyline still feels drawn out and somehow concludes in the simplest and most clichéd manner possible. The narrative elements are engaging, and the character developments are well-executed, allowing us to become familiar with everyone involved until the end without any ambiguity. Perhaps a more unexpected ending could have elevated the overall enjoyment. Enjoy the direction and performances, as well as the breathtaking and scenic location!

I didn't pay attention to the documentary about Muslim women until I saw it! I had seen the previous film of the director, 'The Man Who Sold His Skin,' which, despite being quite political, didn't bother me. However, the documentary directed by Kaouther Ben Hania, who is Tunisian herself, is about four sisters living in post-revolution Tunisia—a world unlike our own. The narrative form is very feminine, but unfortunately, it doesn't delve too deeply into the story, it doesn't explain the motivations well, and the characters (except for the third girl) could be more well-defined. Maybe the narrative form leans more towards storytelling, which takes away from the power and intensity of the documentary! Footnote: I didn't know that before the Tunisian revolution, wearing a headscarf and being veiled were considered crimes, and people were arrested for it, which is the opposite of what happens here today. A freedom that becomes tighter and tighter with the kindness of religion.

If you are a fan of theater, don't miss the film #yannick2023. It's a vast and divine distance emerging from the Salon de la Couture theater in France. I like the huge volume of criticism that is bluntly said in the audience's face; no, it's not acceptable and I like it! This large volume of unfiltered statements and bluntness... This spit in the art that serves everything except what it should serve. I am not a fan of slogans, but I enjoyed the volume of slogans by #quentin_dupieux, the French director, musician, and critic who frankly speaks in the style of French intellectuals. A short, critical film that strongly reminded me of the French theater I saw years ago at the Fajr Theater Festival in Tehran, a theater titled "Art" that had many similarities in concept to this film! #yannickmovie #raphaelquenard

I am fascinated by the director and his insist ing on preserving form! He avoids explaining and depicts the most tragic events of history, no, he describes them. It is enough for a German woman with a cold character and firm manners to try on a fur coat in front of a mirror and coincidentally find a stitch in it, so you understand the coat is secondhand. Then she tries on a simpler dress, and you realize that this woman is of a higher social status. These are all a series of images without the slightest dialogue, which tells the entire film in a few minutes and, of course, the whole terrible history! The black and white interludes of the film, which have a strange and lovable ghost-like narrative, strongly reminded me of Jonathan Glazer's previous film, #under_the_skin. The similar atmospheres and the presence of a director who, despite being there, is observing from a distance. The passage of years from an event and knowing everything that happened in World War II requires a different depiction of the war! Perhaps a film like #Schindler's_List or #The_Lives_of_Others can no longer bring the depth of the tragedy to the surface! And the reference to the concepts and images of Glazer's previous film can make any oppression and any war more effective! And the fact that if God is with us, then who is with them? And I think this is the most important event of the film. On each side of the wall, you have a human, have children, eat food, and use red lipstick! And relativism is matter, with all moral issues having a flow and no certainty, even in killing people!