©-DR-BIANCANIEVES de Pablo Berger (2012) p39
02/11/2015 10:51 par tellurikwaves
Distinctions et Récompenses (1)
| Nominated Saturn Award |
Best International Film Spain
|
| Nominated Silver Condor |
Best Foreign Film, Spanish Language (Mejor Película Iberoamericana) Pablo Berger Spain.
|
| Won Silver Ariel |
Best Latin-American Film (Mejor Película Iberoamericana) Pablo Berger (director) Spain
|
| Nominated AFCA Award |
Best International Film (Foreign Language) |
| Won Grand Prize |
Pablo Berger (director) Arcadia Motion Pictures Noodles Production Nix Films |
| Won 7th Orbit Prize |
Pablo Berger (director) |
| Nominated CFCA Award |
Best Original Score Alfonso de Vilallonga |
| Won Chlotrudis Award |
Best Production Design Alain Bainée |
| Won CinEuphoria |
Best Original Music - International Competition |
| Nominated CinEuphoria |
Best Film - International Competition Pablo Berger |
| Best Supporting Actress - International Competition Maribel Verdú |
|
| Best Director - International Competition Pablo Berger |
| Won CEC Award |
Best Film (Mejor Película) Pablo Berger |
| Best Director (Mejor Director) Pablo Berger |
|
| Best Supporting Actress (Mejor Actriz Secundaria) Ángela Molina |
|
| Best Cinematography (Mejor Fotografía) Kiko de la Rica |
|
| Best New Actress (Mejor Actriz Revelación) Macarena García |
|
| Best Editing (Mejor Montaje) Fernando Franco |
|
| Best Score (Mejor Música) Alfonso de Vilallonga |
|
| Best Original Screenplay (Mejor Guión Original) Pablo Berger |
|
| Nominated CEC Award |
Best Actor (Mejor Actor) Daniel Giménez Cacho |
| Best Actress (Mejor Actriz) Maribel Verdú |
|
| Best Supporting Actor (Mejor Actor Secundario) Josep Maria Pou |
|
| Best New Actor (Mejor Actor Revelación) Emilio Gavira |
| Nominated César |
Best Foreign Film (Meilleur film étranger) Pablo Berger |
| Won European Film Award |
Best Costume Designer Paco Delgado For a costume design combining meticulous research of Spanish tradition and craft with the freedom ... More For a costume design combining meticulous research of Spanish tradition and craft with the freedom of a gothic fairy tale. |
| Nominated European Film Award |
Best Film Pablo Berger (director and producer) Ibon Cormenzana (producer) Jérôme Vidal (producer) |
| Best Director Pablo Berger |
| Won Innovation Award |
Pablo Berger |
| Won Fotogramas de Plata |
Best Spanish Film (Mejor Película Española) Pablo Berger |
| Best Movie Actress (Mejor Actriz de Cine) Maribel Verdú |
| Won Gaudí Award |
Best Film in Catalan Language (Millor Pel·lícula en Llengua Catalana) Arcadia Motion Pictures Nix Films Sisifo Films AIE Thekraken Films, A.I.E. Noodles Production Arte France Cinéma Televisió de Catalunya (TV3) |
| Best Costume Design (Millor Vestuari) Paco Delgado |
|
| Best Original Score (Millor Música Original) Alfonso de Vilallonga |
|
| Best Art Direction (Millor Direcció Artística) Alain Bainée |
|
| Nominated Gaudí Award |
Best Director (Millor Director) Pablo Berger |
| Best Screenplay (Millor Guió) Pablo Berger |
|
| Best Female Lead (Millor Protagonista Femenina) Maribel Verdú |
|
| Best Female Lead (Millor Protagonista Femenina) Ángela Molina |
|
| Best Make-Up and Hairstyles (Millor Maquillatge i Perruqueria) Fermín Galán Sylvie Imbert |
|
| Best Special/Visual Effects (Millors Efectes Especials/Digitals) Reyes Abades Ferran Piquer |
|
| Best Cinematography (Millor Fotografia) Kiko de la Rica |
|
| Best Film Editing (Millor Muntatge) Fernando Franco |
Trivia
External reviews (liste partielle)
*
I watched this film today at the Toronto International Film Festival. After many years of attending the festival, few if any films have made such an impact on me. Visually stunning, every scene shot in crisp black and white shouted out that colour is a mere distraction, a passing fad.
In a silent film, apart from the occasional inter-title, the visuals must tell the story, and in this case the filmmaker borrowed from the tropes of 1920s cinematic narrative, but added a more modern appreciation of human appetites and moralities. Much effort was made to reproduce the look and tone of classic silent film down to the 1.33:1 aspect ratio, but the current technologies used in production added an extra snap, crackle, and pop.
The story is Snow White, but set in the Seville of the 1920s: a girl, the daughter of a famous bullfighter, is raised by an evil stepmother. Instead of a mirror on the wall (though she has one of those, too) the stepmother relies on a fashion magazine to say who's the fairest of them all. A plot to kill the girl - now grown up - fails when she is rescued by a band of travelling bullfighting dwarfs who care for her until she's ready to fulfill her own destiny in the ring.
As befitting a fairy tale, the story is simple and direct, though there are shades of grey here and there in this black and white world of good and evil. But simple as it is, like the best children's stories, this one resonates at a deep level. And speaking of children, it can be debated whether any Grimm fairy tale is actually suitable for children. I would certainly not take a young child to see this one.
Have I mentioned the music? Anchoring the story to the setting, glorious Flamenco appears at key moments making the pulse quicken in time to the castanets.Such a gorgeous film. I must see it again, if my heart can take it.
The Triumph Of Cinema - 10/10
Silent, black and white, expressionist, virtuoso in his classically vintage mise en scene, "Blancanieves" is a triumph of real cinema and invention, folk culture and Iberian poetry, a post-modern masterpiece in which the aesthetic of silent cinema – with its quotes and its expressive forms, the single power of pictures and musical score – it's not only an end, as it has been for the contemporary and more exalted "The Artist" (in which retro style was justified by the homage to old Hollywood), but a mean, a perfect mean, to tell a story: the usual one, by Grimm's brothers tiredly taken to screens so many times in so different ways, but here completely twisted, tipped over, in a Gothic, Spanish and extravagant version where Snow White and seven dwarfs are toreros, the set is Seville between '10s and '20s, and the usual Disney fable hearts and flowers go to hell in benefit of a dark tonality, a black humor and a grotesque taste which unchains an unstoppable series of stylistic, comical, poetic inventions, unpredictable as sensational.
Under the aegis of a deep patriotic identity, "Blancanieves" has the rhythm of a corrida, the passion of a flamenco, the blood of the arena, the twists of circus and the weight of jealousy, of love duel, which is heart and root of Spanish romanticism. It's a modern "Carmen" with Oedipus complex, tuned with "guitara" and castanets, and painted with the oldest cinema aesthetic, close-ups, gags, depth of field, lights and darks of great silent cinema, here in its maximal expression, without any self-satisfaction at all. It's not a divertissement, and not a simple homage, not a pastiche: it's like a film should be, simple, dry, moving, as cinema in its beginning. Cinephile mannerism of Pablo Berger doesn't make lose the film in a style exercise, but helps to tell a black fairy tale, out of time, revolutionary and anarchic, which couldn't be represented some way else.
A bond of immediate emotion and narrative synthesis, which discovers in the arena a theater of all life sensation range: laugh, crying, show, anguish, childhood lightness and horrid adults' cruelty, the weight of past and memories, ghosts and returns, a little antique world in which good and evil, hate and love, jealousy and solidarity, clash and overturn in front of an enraptured, manipulated audience who asks for more, who wants to be thrilled, who gets touched, who has fun, and in the end asks grace for the bull. And, on the very last scene, cries for masterpiece!
*
Snow White and the Huntsman and Mirror Mirror were not the only two Snow White-inspired films of last year. Spanish cinema goers were treated to their very own version of the Brothers Grimm fairy tale that was directed by Pablo Berger who could have been inspired by the success of the French-American silent film, The Artist, as his version of the tale is also a silent one.
Shot in glorious black-and-white (as was The Artist), the film looks and feels like an actual film from the silent era. The simple style of Blancanieves hearkens back to the silent era of film and Berger has created a fanciful homage to those wonderful films of several yesteryears ago that have inspired countless filmmakers ever since.
Berger's unique vision of Snow White takes place in southern Spain in the 1920s and features actress Maribel Verdu (Pan's Labyrinth, Y Tu Mama Tambien) as this version's wicked stepmother. Verdu's Encarna loves her husband's fame and fortune (he is a paralyzed bullfighter whom she met in the hospital as his nurse) but loathes him and his daughter, Carmen. As the story goes, the young Carmen/Snow White (Macarena Garcia) flees the evil clutches of her mother and finds herself helped out along the way by a band of little people who travel the countryside and perform as a novelty act. Carmen finds a talent as a novelty, female bullfighter herself ... and her newfound fame attracts the attention and wrath of Encarna. And, well ... we know the story.
Berger has ingeniously and believable captured this tale in this setting ... and it all works. The over-the-top theatrics of the stars (over-emoting for lack of sound) is spot-on and there are no weak-links in this production. The sets and costumes are lavish. The blacks and whites are sumptuous and beautiful. By Berger choosing to incorporate some of the darker elements of a classic Grimm tale, he has made this version the most successful of last year's three Snow White re-tellings.This is the fairest one of them all.
*
Blancanieve (Snow White) is in every sense one of the best films of 2012. Coming directly in the footsteps of Oscar winner The Artist, this is another film that proves that Silent Film is not a derogatory term but rather leaves us to bring more not less of ourselves to what is a stunning film.
Where Blacanieve triumphs is in its storytelling, its acting, and yes, its melodrama, which here works and makes us feel like we are really watching a Spanish film from the birth of Spanish cinema - the casting of the extras, and the attention to detail just adds to this sensation - and it really is a good watch from beginning to end.
I used to watch films all the time, now I find most are so generic, uninspiring, and just plain dull, that I have almost lost the desire - but then you see a film like this and it restores your faith - a simply excellent film about love, passion, jealousy, and sadness.
*
Blanca Nieves, or Snow White, is a variation on the old fable, with bullfighting being a major thematic difference. A great matador is seen praying in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary, as he awaits is battle with el toro. He enters to a worshippig crowd, which includes his pregnant wife cheering him on. Of course, things go horribly wrong and he ends up in a wheelchair and his better half has a difficult childbirth. A daughter is born and she winds up at an estate with a wicked stepmother, as in the original tale. This is all in black and white and it is also a silent film. I was reluctant to watch it, but once I got used to the placards used for dialogue, I was carried along by the story. Carmen, the little girl, grows up and circumstances bring her to a group of; you guessed it, seven bullfighters. They are little people, in keeping tradition with Grimm's book. I won't give away the ending, but I was thoroughly entertained by Blanca Nieves. The cinematography is beautiful and the acting excellent throughout. Be open minded, as far as watching a silent movie is concerned, and you will not be disappointed.
*
Although The Artist, the first Best Picture winner I've agreed with in a long time, took the mainstream by storm of its silent film renaissance style, Blancanieves is a similar revivial, if not as self-referential, and is on par with The Artist. Silent cinema in the modern age feels like it offers a brand new way of expressive cinema and Blancanieves is oozing with expression. With textured black and white shots and energetic editing, it's a rush of raw inspiration, making full use of the frame. With such a timeless story, there's a risk of it being a complete retread, but Blancanieves tells it in such a refreshing and unpredictable way in which I was constantly looking for the famous plot points and then pleasantly surprised me when it's revealed which character is playing what role.
It's a film with such a warmth for the characters and builds their relationships in a great archetypal way. With its great pace, it hits story beats efficiently and I was never bored and always caught off guard with its reinventions, with the bullfighting angle implemented seamlessly. The highlight is the fantastic score, which also rivals The Artist, with its variety of styles, the best parts being when it has flamenco influences. Blancanieves is a very entertaining and tragic rendition of a great story that avoids sentimentality all the way. Although it winds down a little in the last third where it's run out of steam too much to develop the seven dwarfs fairly, its highs are still strong. One of the best the year has to offer and rivals Disney's own Snow White.
9/10
*
Snow White with flamenco and bulls.
The outdoor, hilltop venue undoubtedly added to the allure. The screen was hung on the castle wall on Barcelona's Montjuic and the orchestra was live. The flamenco songs were performed by a singer with a soaring voice standing under the screen. But this was just extras and Blancanieve is well worth watching without it. The music is transporting and the stunning B&W photography alone makes it worth while.Wonderful entertainment and deeply satisfying.Just go see it.
*
A silent movie, filmed in black & white, which moves the familiar Snow White fairytale to a bullfighter arena in Seville and spices it with some morbid and melodramatic themes. I admit, it sounds weird. But in fact, it's wonderful. Blancanieves is a great cinematographic accomplishment. Anyone who loves film, should go and see it.
Many silent movies are still a joy to watch, even though they are made almost a hundred years ago. That's because they put so much more emphasis on the visual aspect of the movie. It's about what you see on the screen, not about what the actors say.
Director Pablo Berger has understood this perfectly. Blancanieves is a visual feast from beginning to end. The scenes are filmed in high-contrast black & white, often with deep focus. Everything looks extremely stylish, from the wardrobes to the interiors. Sometimes the images could have come right out of a fashion magazine.
Moreover, the actors know that they have to act differently and use much more expression. Maribel Verdu is a joy to watch as Blancanieves's evil stepmother. Her facial expressions are worth more than a hundred lines of dialogue. Watch for the chicken-eating scene!
In silent movies, the soundtrack is of course extremely important. Blancanieves doesn't disappoint. From the no holds barred, full-scale orchestral pieces during the most melodramatic scenes, to traditional Spanish flamenco music, it all accompanies the images on screen perfectly. Sometimes the soundtrack turns into source music, for example when we see the orchestra playing during the bullfight, or when Blancanieves puts on a record.
it's hard to review this film without mentioning 'The Artist', the Oscar-winning silent movie from last year. Inevitably, Blancanieves stands in the shadow of this successful film. That's bad luck for director Berger, who has started this project long before anyone had even heard of The Artist. Perhaps, if The Artist wouldn't have had as much success as it did, Blancanieves would have attracted more attention. The Artist was a multiple Oscar-winner, Blancanieves didn't even get nominated, although it was the Spanish selection for the foreign language category. That does seem out of proportion, because both films are really great. Blancanieves is old-fashioned film making at its very best.
*
I just returned from a screening of this remarkable film hosted by Dr. Richard Brown of NYU's Movies 101. With the spate of take offs on the Snow White theme in recent years, I suspected that this was just one in a long line of suitors to the throne. Not expecting much, I came as much for the novelty of watching a modern day silent film as anything else, but walked out as if in a dream. Of all the hundreds of memorable movies I have admired and enjoyed, I will stand on this review: The is the single most visually arresting, moving, lyrical wonders I have ever seen on film. Without cliché or hyperbole, this film will become a modern day classic. Before the screening began, Dr. Brown gave a brief introduction to "Blanca Nieves" and a short history of the silent film era, with special emphasis on how these early films were always presented with full, live orchestras, and how these film scores dramatically enhanced the entire film viewing experience.
With this in mind, the producers wisely decided to have a full orchestral soundtrack created for this cinematic tour de force, adding a degree of emotional impact to a film already so beautifully crafted as to elicit emotions I've rarely experienced in any film, silent or contemporary. This captivating gem, shot entirely in glorious black and white, demonstrates a level of cinematic perfection rarely seen in films nowadays, every frame a picture, every picture a masterpiece. Do yourself a favor—sit back, put your preconceived notions on hold, and simply allow this magical piece of filmmaking sweep you away in it's spell.
*
Last June, Rupert Sanders paid homage to the Brothers Grimm with stock fantasy, Snow White and the Huntsman. Three months later, writer- director Pablo Berger released Blancanieves, also a fantasy live-action based on the same German fairy tale.
But three crucial elements separate Berger's version: a tribute to the 1920s, this Spanish production is told in the style of a black-and-white silent film. As a whimsical, intelligent tale of horror, it is also the right blend of romantic and surrealist mystery. Lastly; inspired by documentary photos of bullfighting dwarfs in "Hidden Spain", this screenplay (unlike most adaptations) unfolds against the principal scenery of Spanish bullfights, and also contains references to Alice in Wonderland.
As a result of all three elements, Berger's improvised re-telling is an unpredictable and spell-binding concoction.
1920s in the bustling city of Andalusia — Antonio, a celebrated matador at the peak of his career suffers serious injuries during a match. His heavily pregnant wife goes into distress after witnessing the harrowing event, and dies after giving birth. Physically and emotionally crippled, Antonio rejects their newborn girl Carmenito (snow white) and leaves her under the care of family friend Doña. Father and child move on to separate lives with Antonio suffering in reclusive exile after marrying Encarna (Maribel Verdú) — matriarchal villain of the vain, viscous type. Carmen on the other hand, nurtured and loved by Doña blossoms into a talented and spirited child. But tragedy strikes and Doña dies. Young Carmen, along with pet rooster Pepe, is sent to live in a mansion with Antonio and Encarna.
Sadly, Antonio is wheelchair bound and having fallen into deep depression is clueless about Carmen's plight. Pending reunion is thus shrouded in melancholia and with Encarna's presence, a hint of wicked danger. In keeping with the Grimm's parable of love, envy and wrath — this film also amplifies the terrifying risks of falling for deception.
Bullfighting is a passionate, violent sport and both flavors work to engineer narrative shift from that of a heartwarming tale for kids, to one of chilling cautionary etched in surrealist tragedy. Years later, even after Carmen (Sofía Oria) escapes into a life of bullfighting with the carefree, circus troupe of dwarfs; pervasive dread of her looming death continues to linger. Most crucially, Berger is also capable of infusing lighter moments while sustaining the heavier, eerier older version of Little Snow White. For example, in the Grimm's original, Encarna is a cannibal and this is replaced by a scene at the dinner table with young Carmen. Here — Maribel Verdúm (instantly recognizable from Y Tu Mamá También & Pan's Labyrinth) turns in her role as a devlish stepmother with ferocious, sphinxlike power; all the while exuding wisps of opéra comique required of the twist.
Pretty glad I decided against giving this one a miss.
Everything about Blancanieves, from its vivid imagery to metaphorical theatrics, superb performances to haunting musical chords, is dramatically captured and thoroughly inventive. The film does an amazing job at transporting modern audiences back in time and deep inside a cryptic, disturbing universe. And seriously… the poor rooster.
cinemainterruptus.wordpress.com
Sites externes
Critique publiée par Krokodebil le 28 janvier 2013 (modifiée le 28 janvier 2013)
Dans la série de films célébrant les pouvoirs et les beautés du cinéma muet d'antan, après les - pour ma part - très réussis The Artist et Tabou, l'Espagne propose avec Blancanieves une relecture du cinéma muet en même temps qu'une relecture d'un (ou plusieurs) contes bien connus. Double mouvement donc, inscrit dans une double tendance : le revival muet d'une part, la mode des adaptations de Blanche Neige (après les piteuses tentatives américaines des de dernières années).
Je dois avouer que le film m'intéressait énormément, et que la première partie m'a plutôt déçu. La photo est superbe, extrêmement léchée, et le film triche moins que The Artist (et évidemment que Tabou) avec le parti pris du cinéma muet. Le silence est absolu, on ne voit qu'une suite d'images, au format 1:33, avec des intertitres, des plans sur des journaux (non traduits, pas très pratique pour qui ne parle pas espagnol), le tout porté par une partition ma foi assez incroyable d'Alfonso Villalonga.
La musique passe d'un classicisme post-romantique typique du cinéma muet à des éléments un peu plus folkloriques avec une grande aisance, évoque volontiers un grand nom comme Manuel de Falla, joue sur tous les tableaux possibles de la musique de film des années 1920 : underscoring, mickeymousing... Petite surprise, le film se fait "parlant" ou plutôt "chantant" par la musique et le disque de flamenco qu'écoute la petite fille en souvenir de sa mère. Des effets que l'on pouvait trouver dans la fin du cinéma muet ou dans les films muets post-cinéma parlant (chez Chaplin par exemple).
Du coup, la reconstitution paraît très appliquée, presque scolaire pendant un bon bout de temps : jeu délibérément outré et expressionniste, et tous les moyens possibles et imaginables de l'époque. Le film se présente presque comme si on l'avait déterré, en copie neuve, d'une obscure cinémathèque. Or, l'installation de l'intrigue est assez longue. Certaines séquences sont merveilleuses, comme l'ouverture du film, la description de la cruauté de la marâtre ou des effets de montage absolument remarquables (séquence de flamenco), mais au milieu de ça, on a l'impression d'assister à un banal film muet comme ils'en faisait tant en 1925.
Et puis le film décolle. Après quelques mésaventures particulièrement cruelles et scabreuses - on pense souvent à Buñuel - Carmencita grandit et devient tout simplement magnifique, androgyne et femme. Elle survit à un nouvel outrage mais perd temporairement la mémoire, et c'est comme si le film, dès lors, perdait sa propre mémoire, celle de son projet de reconstitution aveugle et soignée. Les sentiments affleurent, des vrais personnages, profonds, émergent. Et, paradoxalement, le conte se fait plus présent et évident.
Ainsi Carmencita devient Blancanieves "comme dans le conte", décrètent les nains. Délicieux glissement sémantique d'une adaptation vers une mise en abyme de l'adaptation. Surtout, Blancanieves, à présent ignorant son passé et surtout qui était son père, devient une étoile de la tauromachie. De la tauromachie je voudrais dire quelques mots. Le conte est transposé dans l'Espagne de la fin des années 1920, la tauromachie est donc forcément un élément de sociabilité incontournable. Mais la représenter au cinéma pouvait poser problème aujourd'hui.
A titre personnel je trouve cette pratique exécrable et barbare - or, dans le film, elle en sort grandie, humaine et respectueuse. L'animal est montré comme un égal de son adversaire humain, il est craint et surtout respecté. Dans un premier temps il vainc l'homme. Une vachette vaincra le nain, sous les rires du public amusé, mais Blancanieves, ayant vaincu la bête, l'épargnera au terme d'un duel d'une force émotionnelle rare. C'est là encore le montage du film qu'il faut saluer, entre moments de bravoure épileptiques qui évoquent l'école soviétique et inserts subliminaux qui agissent comme des flashes de la mémoire ou de l'inconscient, fournissant alors une courte mais passionnante réflexion sur l'image et ses régimes (persistance rétinienne, etc.), qui, on le sait, fut prégnante dans les années 1920 au sein des avant-garde et des mouvements dada ou surréalistes.
Autre réussite du film, et probablement sa plus grande, son formidable crescendo tragique final, où la cruauté du conte envahit la réalité et contamine l'innocente mise en abîme; Blancanieves redevient Blanche Neige dès lors qu'elle est démasquée par la marâtre. Recouvrant identité et mémoire, la mise en abîme (encore !! Ffff) ne tient plus et la logique du conte se déchaîne. Ironiquement, Encarna, la marâtre, désigne un des nains qu'elle croise par le sobriquet de Petit Poucet. Mais à l'issue fatale de leur rencontre, c'est à un autre conte que l'on pensera, celui de la Belle au bois dormant.
L'épilogue de Blancanieves déjoue toutes les attentes traditionnelles du spectateur et tord le cou à la résolution heureuse du conte, en lui substituant une visions profondément déchirante d'un amour impossible, à jamais perdu, et souillé par la violence de la nécrophilie. Dans son cercueil de plexiglas, au fin fond du cirque miteux des Freaks de Tod Browning, le nain amoureux qui toujours respecta sa princesse s'endort, près de celle qui jamais ne se réveillera.Et l'ultime image du film, absolument sublime, nous laisse sur un spleen d'un romantisme désespéré et définitif.
Critique publiée par Jean-MaxenceGra le 3 mars 2013
« Arènes sanglantes » revu par les Frères Grimm, « Mort dans l’après midi » version Charles Perrault, « Blancanieves » transpose avec fraicheur et gravité le fonds légendaire germanique, celui de « Blanche-Neige et les 7 nains », mais aussi de « Cendrillon », de « La Belle au bois dormant » ou du «Chaperon Rouge », dans l’Espagne sévillane et nous emmène avec tout le sérieux nécessaire, revisiter un conte pour (grands) enfants riche comme il se doit des symbolisations inconscientes les plus fortes.
On rêve donc en noir et blanc et en muet, la forme étant ici au service d’une grande expressivité poétique et rendant hommage à la fois à l’expressionisme allemand du Murnau de « Faust » par exemple mais aussi au « Freaks » de Tod Browning. Le film ne se résume pas, loin s'en faut, à un exercice citationnel ou à un « à la manière » de car il est porteur tout aussi bien d’une grande modernité visuelle et d’un second degré qui ne vaut jamais cynisme. Chaque plan paraît nécessaire dans ce mélodrame qui associe à l’univers des contes, la mythologie tauromachique d’un Goya et celle des nains bouffons d’un Velasquez.
La distribution, en particulier féminine, est remarquable, avec Angelina Molina en grand-mère flamenca, Maribel Verdù en horrible marâtre SM, obsédée par la couverture des magazines, Macarena Garcia en Blanche Neige, jeune matador pleine de grâce, et la petite Sofia Oria en Cosette mutine et délicieuse. Un film estocade et revigorant qui démontre, mieux encore que chez Hazanavicius ou Tarentino il y a peu, que le cinéma se réinvente en puisant à ses origines mais aussi aux légendes de nos enfances.
Critique publiée par magyalmar le 31 décembre 2013
Une adaptation qui n'en est pas vraiment une, particulièrement habile à détourner les thématiques du conte originel pour les intégrer dans un contexte social semi-réaliste, avec un ton macabre et un refus du happy end étonnants. Ce qui en fait pour moi la meilleure déclinaison de Blanche-Neige.
Artistiquement c'est un vrai choc. Alternant panoramiques étourdissants et plans à l'épaule vertigineux, Pablo Berger ne se contente pas d'un simple exercice de style formel (ce vers quoi penche The Artist), mais impose au contraire un style viscéral, passionné, sensible, qui happe le spectateur dans un tourbillon de sensations. Le noir et blanc décuple la force lyrique et évocatrice des images.
La BO ne démérite pas non plus. Bien au contraire, on tient là le chef-d'oeuvre de l'année. Parfaitement pensée et intégrée à l'image, elle en est le complément idéal. Si vous aviez toujours rêvé de voir un film muet projeté avec un orchestre live, vous pouvez remercier le blu-ray est sa piste 5.1, immersive comme rarement. L'émotion à son comble !
Montage, lumière, costumes, tout atteint un niveau d'exception, rassurant sur la vivacité d'un cinéma espagnol asphyxié par les coupes sur les subventions. Enfin le film ne serait pas grand chose sans ses incroyables visages de cinéma, qui fournissent une interprétation en tous points magistrale, de Maribel Verdu en infirmière vaniteuse aux deux actrices incarnant Carmen, en passant par les plus infimes rôles secondaires.