It takes time to deal with this eye-catching meditation in the documentary production process because it throws the tentacles in many directions. Milcho Manchevski’s lively, thought-provoking bikini moon enters and exits in the experimental category, with cynical independent filmmakers, bloody heart liberals and an unpredictable bag lady and a hidden treasure waiting to go home. The film is cool, cool New York satir, easy to enter, but its main charm lies in the mysterious Condola Rashad, the stage actress in Showtime’s “Billions” and Joshua Marston’s recent “Come Sunday”, and her More – as a charismatic but insane performance of the Iraqi war veterinarian.
Born in Macedonia, Manchevski now lives in New York and entered the film industry in 1994 with his premiere of the Golden Lion Award in Venice. Although everything that has been done since (dust, shadow, mother) has not made the unforgettable bow, the bikini moon is the second easy choice; in some ways, such as the use of actors, it is better than His milestone is more fulfilling. The use of touch is sometimes light, sometimes heavy, alternating sharp, falsely cynical, and the director and co-author (with W. P. Rosenthal) completely control the complex materials.
How the media influences what it displays is a favorite theme of the Film and Journalism School. This is an example of a textbook that shows what happens when a clumsy filmmaker interferes with his subject in a very unethical way. The film also explores the nature of the truth and our perception of reality, capturing the feelings of the film, the gaps in the narrative, the leap of time, and the rough sounds and images in its seemingly random structure.
The opening scene of the open center of the street crowd in New York caught the audience in a very uncomfortable situation. Will Janowitz and a group of reporters from Hell are rhythmically photographing the interaction of homeless people with the center’s staff, including Trevor’s hearty girlfriend Sarah Goldberg. Not only was he very embarrassed and esoteric, he also humbly insisted on placing cameras, microphones and staff in the frame to “uncover the mystery of reality.”
The filmmaker quickly focused on a young black woman (Rashard) who appeared on the mirror. Her name is Bikini. Although she refused to tell everyone, she admitted that she had been in the army and claimed to operate a forklift in Iraq – “to bring freedom to these poor bastards,” she said with a scornful irony. She told the interviewer that she desperately needed a place to stay because she was determined to let her one-year-old daughter come back from foster care.
An understandable goal, but it is increasingly evident that she is delusional and potentially violent – almost unstable mother material. Kate told them that she was neurasthenic. In the next scene, we found that she was sleeping on the street.
In the end, Kate – a natural missionary infiltrated the white middle class guilt – insisted that they took the bikini home and helped her to stand up again. Quiet, anxious Kate, at first look so embarrassed, can convince a stone to do her command (“This is only a week!”) and Trevor had to succumb to her plan. After all, this is her house.
It seems a bit like taking the vulgar Boudu home in the Jean Renoir movie, but the audience’s expectations for the catastrophic misconduct of the bikini part are not exactly the same. It’s more like a traumatic and neurotic collision between the visitor and her owner, and they plan to use her movie (Trevor fantasizes it to Sundance).
For her, the bikini is a master of manipulation. Whether she is compulsive, impulsive, fearful or tempting, she is the one who advertises. Seeing her manipulating the terrible Trevor and misleading Kate, her sex toys played in an unconscious scene, which was quite enjoyable. But her thoughts have been out of control, and an anti-social behavior has erupted that prevented her from returning.
Rashard is a woman in this open role and shows her powerful picture. As her opponent Kate, Goldberg experienced her own perversion and became a more confident person.