Director:
Samuel MaozGuión:
Samuel MaozCámara:
Giora BejachReparto:
Lior Ashkenazi, Sarah Adler, Yonaton Shiray, Karin Ugowski, Shira Haas, Yehuda Almagor, Roy Miller, Mussa Zhalka, Irit Kaplan, Noam Lugasy, Firas Nassar (más)Streaming (1)
Sinopsis(1)
Michael ve cómo crece su rabia ante las excesivas muestras de luto de sus familiares y las palabras bienintencionadas de los burócratas del ejército.Su mujer, sedada, descansa. Mientras tanto, Michael se sumerge en una espiral de ira para experimentar uno de esos giros insondables de la vida, a la altura de las surrealistas experiencias de su hijo mientras realizaba su servicio militar. Michael ve cómo crece su rabia ante las excesivas muestras de luto de sus familiares y las palabras bienintencionadas de los burócratas del ejército. Su mujer, sedada, descansa. Mientras tanto, Michael se sumerge en una espiral de ira para experimentar uno de esos giros insondables de la vida, a la altura de las surrealistas experiencias de su hijo mientras realizaba su servicio militar. (Wanda Visión)
(más)Reseñas (5)
Una escena de pocos segundos y todo cobra sentido y profundiza en el pensamiento. Original en la forma y en el contenido, la reflexión del autor sobre la fragilidad del destino y la necesidad de pagar el precio. Una película fuerte y pesada que aligera el triste drama con momentos absurdamente grotescos, como suele hacer la vida misma.
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Una sátira extraña. A uno le gustaría decir guerra, pero aquí no hay guerra. De todos modos, admitir que solo encontré el meollo en el tercio medio de la película, que rezuma toda la ironía militar que disfruté. Sin embargo el encuadre familiar de la historia no me interesó demasiado, especialmente cuando la conclusión cíclica de la trama está clara para el espectador de antemano. En cualquier caso, sigue siendo una obra muy buena, y lo único que puedo reprocharle es que hubiera preferido ver más de las extrañas aventuras de un pelotón israelí nihilista que esa historia dramática y metida un poco con calzador de una triste familia encerrada en un apartamento. [LFŠ 2020]
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There are films that are pleasant to watch, relaxed, and likable, with which you spend two hours of your time only to forget about them the next day. And then there are those that are less accessible, watching them means undergoing a certain effort and struggling with them for a while, so that they resonate within you for a long time, forcing you to return and to reflect and compare. That's exactly what Foxtrot is like. It's not a film you sympathize with and that wins you over at first sight. Each of its three parts has a different character - and only the third part connects and justifies the existence of both previous parts. I had a problem with the intimate nature and slow pace of the first part, but the Kafkaesque absurd atmosphere with a blurred camera in the second third awakened me from lethargy, and I perceived the painful reconciliation with the reality of two aging partners, who are left only with memories, with maximum sensitivity. When a few days ago I wrote about Tehran Taboo that it was the highlight of Febiofest 2018 for me, I didn't know yet what kind of competition it would have in Foxtrot. Both films are unpleasant for the ruling regime and hit it in the most sensitive spot. But Foxtrot is more artistically sophisticated and demands more from the viewer. Both are politically engaged and provocative, but Foxtrot is more intimate. It has tremendous power in its ability to point out revealing details and to capture and highlight the characteristic rituals of the prevailing system. Despite all the depression it brings, Foxtrot shows how much better Israeli society is compared to Iran. The film didn't have to be created in exile, nor is it the result of dissident courage. It is part of the discussion in the public space and evokes controversy, which is never a bad thing. Overall impression: 95%.
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If I had to quietly acknowledge after the first act that the world's longest-built joke had just been played on me, then afterward I had to become hoarse with disappointment that it wasn't intended to be and was merely a sophisticated narrative play where the entire first passage is spot-on in its form. Can you grasp the potential, to go to the effort of creating a half-hour slow, clinical, painful, silent sequence, only to then knock it down in one swoop? Unfortunately, Foxtrot can't rise above itself, though it tries terribly hard to pretend it can. It's terribly clunky and painfully literal and futile towards the end, and we have to pointlessly watch in long, static shots dialogue like "You're like an excavator. And I'm like a tow truck." "I actually think you're the excavator. And I'm the truck." Ugh.... PS: for those who think the Romanian New Wave is a good idea, this will be a treat.
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It is by no means an attractive film for the audience, but if you let yourself be absorbed by it, you will not be disappointed. The slow pace of the narrative, combined with the cleverly constructed story, may seem to lull your attention, but at unguarded moments Samuel Maoz hits the mark with such force that you will be reeling for a long time. I have perhaps never encountered a more intimate and urgent depiction of the absurdity of war. (85%)
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