Last year, audiences were both charmed and horrified by Marjane Satrapi's animated autobiography "Persepolis." This year, director Ari Folman mesmerized viewers with his own account of Middle Eastern conflict with "Waltz With Bashir," his fourth film. A critical favorite at this year's Cannes Film Festival, the Israeli language "Waltz With Bashir" takes advantage of the flexibility of animation and the ability to explore memories and the subconscious through vivid imagery and surreal dream sequences. The only animated film in competition at Cannes this year, "Waltz With Bashir" stands out in visuals but not in its message.
One night in a bar, a friend of Ari's tells him about a recurring dream in which the friend is chased by 26 vicious dogs. These are the same dogs that Ari's friend shot during the first Lebanon War in order to keep them from waking up their owners and alerting them of the Israeli Army's presence. Ari then realizes that he cannot remember a single thing about his involvement in the conflict. Memory is a fickle thing, he is told; he may have suppressed these unpleasant memories. Determined to uncover the truth about his time in the Army and the events leading up to the 1982 massacres at the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps. As he delves deeper into his past and conducts interviews with former comrades, Ari's brain begins to conjure partial memories blended with dreams and surreal imaginings.
"Waltz With Bashir," the only animated film in competition at Cannes this year, is a combination of Flash, hand-drawn 2D animation and 3D rendering recalling the animation of "A Scanner Darkly" and "Waking Life" (Richard Linklater) and blends interviews with subjective memories of the Lebanon War, forcing the viewer to question whether what they are watching is actual footage that has been animated, a recreation of actual events, or a dreamlike memory that exists only in Folman's mind. The film possesses a more detailed and colorful visual style than last year's "Persepolis," giving it the feel of a graphic novel rather than a children's story and making it less instantly accessible than its predecessor. The most memorable image in the film is Ari's own recurring dream of swimming in the sea with two comrades before the massacres at the refugee camps. Bathed in golden yellow with strong black outlines, the scene fills the theater with a warm glow, and the audience is haunted as each man stands and walks to the shore.
This structuring of memories alongside interviews leads to a disjointed film. This disjoint, though, is perhaps a tool Folman uses to shock the viewer; it is easy to get lost in the striking visuals presented by Folman and his animation team, but the interviews remind audiences that this is a documentary of war horrors and murder. If only he had found a more subtle way to present his anti-war sentiments. As Ari grows closer and closer to remembering the actual events of the massacres, the images become more realistic and less dreamlike. He ends the film with a punch to the stomach (or a beat over the head, depending on how you have taken the film's sentiments): a cut to documentary footage of the aftermath of the massacres. As if we haven't already realized that these horrible events actually happened, Folman feels the need to remind us one final time, and this time, we'd better not forget it.
Unfortunately, the broken memories of being young and a member of the Israeli Army are often lost amidst the more visually stimulating dream sequences, but comments made by Folman's interviewees do manage to bring to the film several different viewpoints of the conflict. A sharp soundtrack mixing classical pieces with contemporary tracks like a cover of CAKE's "I Bombed Korea Today" provides stark contrasts to the images of death and destruction. The music, another character in the film, forces a feeling of discomfort onto the audience: should we tap our feet and sing along or shrink in horror?
In Folman's defense, finding a new way to make an anti-war film is a difficult task in contemporary cinema. His decision to tell a personal account in the medium of animation is a step towards individuality and uniqueness, but his final switch over to actual footage plants "Waltz With Bashir" in the tired and over-trodden genre of anti-war films.
I believe everyone has something to learn from this movie.
The last shots of 'reality' are more then necessary, as this animation is so stunning even with war as the subject. It is very easy to get mesmerised by it's hypnotic, haunting images, that one forgets how this unforgivable massacre would have really looked like.
Yes, this WWB is a sort of documentary. But really, it is one creative man's journey towards remembering his memories lost due to a war trauma and guilt.
This film is what dreams are made of...