Director:
Steve McQueenCámara:
Sean BobbittMúsica:
David HolmesReparto:
Michael Fassbender, Liam Cunningham, Karen Hassan, Des McAleer, Stuart Graham, Lalor Roddy, Ciaran Flynn, B.J. Hogg, Brian Milligan, Liam McMahon (más)Streaming (1)
Sinopsis(1)
Hunger es una historia basada en hechos reales, en la que Michael Fassbender interpreta a Bobby Sands, un preso de la cárcel de máxima seguridad Maze Prison que, en 1981, lideró una ardua huelga de hambre en el seno de la prisión. Cuando expones tu cuerpo a las más extremas condiciones, las consecuencias son imprevisibles. (Movistar+)
(más)Reseñas (8)
Durante todo el tiempo uno se pregunta cuál es el objetivo de la película, porque lo único que vemos es como con el ojo visual austero a lo Kubrick muestra lo mal que son tratados los prisioneros del IRA en la cárcel inglesa. Incluso en la segunda mitad, cuando el guión se olvida de los personajes anteriores y se centra en el mártir voluntario de Fassbender, nos quedamos como meros observadores de cosas de las que se nos hiela la sangre de horror. Pero aquí la película ya está a otro nivel, gracias al megatalento del actor. Al final, uno llega a la conclusión de que el sufrimiento que el (los) personaje (s) sobrevivió (sobrevivieron) no fue en vano y es lo que da sentido a la película. Un fuerte disparo en la cabeza del espectador.
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Absolutely "physical" and intensely unpleasant viewing. It’s formally austere and yet very expressive. It’s minimalistic in terms of acting and yet fully functional. It’s poor in story, but rich in ideas. A heavy-duty shot to the gut.
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A painfully physical experience. Persistent, intense, gradual and scorching. McQueen risks serious accusations of political controversy, but this film is not about defending ideology, but rather about the often Baroque-rigid and visually brilliant image of humiliation, determination, and suffering. In terms of structure, the film resembles a three-winged altar full of blood, renunciation and feces - an altar that does not accuse, react or evaluate... only radiates a disheartening chiaroscuro. Steve McQueen is undoubtedly a huge talent with his artistry, economical language and sober sharing ability.
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I understand what Steve McQueen is going for, and I must admire him for not giving in to anti-populist form even for a moment, while avoiding the feeling of a self-indulgently slow pace. The boundary between raw reality and explicit atrocities and violence is sometimes quite thin, and Hunger crosses it too many times for my taste. Of course, Michael Fassbender can weigh twenty kilos even with the bed included yet still captivate me with a mere glance. But more often than not, I sneered at it disgustedly instead of experiencing it.
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Hunger is a film that feels absolutely convincing, evokes exactly the emotions it wants to evoke, and is economical in its expression. It is told through imagery and the only crucial dialogue between the hunger striker and the prison chaplain is a delight in how many layers, connotations, probing, and information it contains. This drama can provide a complete picture of the problem in a reasonable duration of 95 minutes and literally engulf the viewer. The theme of torment, and frustration of prisoners and guards who are limited by political guidelines from people who have no real idea about the actual situation and no intention of dealing with it far away in parliament. It is a battle of willpower, ideology, ideas, sacrifice, intimidation, and strength. A controversial film that is not for everyone. Overall impression: 95%.
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Raw, no frills. Connecting the story from the first half to Fassbender’s Bobby is stretching things a little, but that’s what gives this picture the right tone. His slow fading away and suffering is presented simply as it was. And that makes it even more terrifying.
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A heavy, existentially tuned and extremely personal drama that attacks the limits of the viewer's emotionality in a completely indiscriminate, mentally and physically exhausting way. Unfortunately, this applies only to the second half, when watching Fassbender suffer voluntarily makes us more nauseous than Jackson's Braindead – if the whole film was like this, it would immediately reach top positions in the popularity charts here and perhaps even the percentage rating. Unfortunately, the opening part is boring and confusing rather than shocking and, despite all efforts at authorial innovation, quite uninteresting, too, so my rating is just a logical outcome of two completely different halves. But nothing against McQueen, his patient and strongly poetic approach would prove very useful and even massively successful in subsequent films. And here (in the first half) is the germ of everything. 70%
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Absolutely classic festival film. Screenwriting that achieves the geometry of Plato's dialogues, but disgustingly wordy in places. However, the subject matter appealed to me and it's skillfully filmed, so for once I'm satisfied.
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