Cinefile

For a film that is spends most of its time observing the decrepit countryside, The Slut's (Israel) visceral strengths come in unexpected instances of sexually carnal action--much like the recurring urges felt by the film's protagonist. Writer-Director-Star Hagar Ben-Asher plays Tamar, an attractive thirtysomething mother of two young daughters, who gets through the rural day-to-day workflow by squeezing in sexual favors for the village male professionals (bicycle repairman, stocky tough guy, poultry farmer, you name it). At first, it seems that it's the men who are running the show. Anytime one of them feels horny, they know that Tamar is just a breezy stroll over the farm land. The sex is so routine in fact, there is hardly any foreplay between Tamar and the gents; they don't even kiss.

It isn't until the introduction of Shai (Ishai Golan), a former resident of the land now turned veterinarian who falls in love with Tamar, that the unnerving truth surfaces: Tamar is very much in control of the sexual activity that goes on in the film. In fact, she is the enabler. For reasons never fully explained (we sense that her daughters are from different fathers), Tamar is the unabashedly selfish sexual animal fully realized. At one point, Tamar abruptly decides to get an abortion in order to retain her physique and thus maximize her sexual potential.

For most people, The Slut will be a film that moves too slowly. For others, it will be a refreshing reminder that foreign films don't skimper on nudity (both male and female). For me, I was intrigued by Ben-Asher's direction at times. She had me fooled into worrying for Tamar in the first act, then surprised me with Tamar's under-the-radar volatility in the second act and then completely stupified me with an inexplicable conclusion. That last shot in specific, is some twisted rendering of "The Madonna and Child (After Raphael)"...I think. And what is Ben-Asher trying to say about sexuality? That we should all just act out on every urge? If she is, then it's a bold statement. If she isn't, she has at least succeeded in lifting the dusty veil of monogamy in a hard to ignore manner.

Into The Abyss (USA) marks yet another treasure in the Werner Herzog canon & filmography, one that further illuminates the ever-bewildering human species. Only Herzog could make us identify with both a man who would rather live with bears (Grizzly Man) and a German prostitute who emigrated to central Wisconsin in order to become rich (Stroszek).

Early in Abyss, we meet convicted murderer Michael Perry, through the jail looking glass. He has a youthful face, a thin body and says he is a true Christian. Perry is also aware he is exactly eight days away from being executed for a triple homicide that he was arrested for ten years prior. In chilling confidence Perry describes his situation as a win-win scenario: He'll either go home (in the literal sense) or go home (as in the pearly gates).

Fortunately, Herzog isn't out to nail a manifesto within the narrative of this documentary (though he may have those aspirations when his doc is released next month). Herzog is deeply fascinated with the idea of the death penalty. Like most people, Herzog knows that taking someone else's life is wrong. However, the catch here is that most families who have lost loved ones to murder find closure in knowing that the perpetrator is no longer living. Cathartic justice may not bring one's brother, mother, father or sister back, but most people will cling to such a decision.

What's really striking about Into The Abyss, is how all over the place (in a very good way!) the "plot" is. Though Herzog divides the doc up into chapters (labeled by Roman numerals), he doesn't zero in one particular subject or angle. Just when we think the doc will be a talking head piece on Perry and his convicted accomplice Jason Burkett, Herzog dives into a powerful section focused on the crime spree, told with archival police footage. Then we meet various friends and families (from both sides) who were affected by the event. There is even a quirky, oddly moving subplot involving a woman who wrote letters to and eventually fell in love with Burkett while he is in jail. When it is revealed that the woman is pregnant with Burkett's child, Herzog asks aloud how this could've happened seeing that Burkett and the woman never did more than hold hands during visitations.

But make no mistake: Into The Abyss is a powerful, dark and unquestionably thoughtful telling of just one of many death row stories in America. And Herzog isn't a fan of these convicted men either; he even tells Perry that he doesn't like him but still "respects" him as a human being. As a filmmaker, Herzog is unique in that he doesn't point out the obvious (like the fact that Perry and Burkett's point-of-view stories don't match) and how he doesn't edit out the dead air footage at the tail end of each interview. It's especially in those candid moments where we see doubt, hope and the perils of reflection in the eyes of its subjects.

This is one of the best films at the 47th Chicago International Film Festival.