Foreign Films Speaking the Same Language

At first glance, the Oscar nominees for best foreign-language film appear to have nothing in common.

What could a kitschy Indian musical, a Bosnian war farce, a Norwegian story about two mentally disabled men, an Argentine drama about a man’s midlife crisis and a whimsical French fantasy have in common?

Plenty, if you look closer. They are all films about hope, with a strong sense of humor that makes their topics--mental illness, colonization, war and emotional crises--palpable. These films are, in the words of industry insiders, audience pleasers.

“All four of them are love stories ... with a fair sprinkling of humor--with the exception of ‘No Man’s Land,’ which is a real farce,” said Mark Johnson, chairman of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ foreign-language film selection committee.

The five finalists are Bosnia-Herzegovina’s “No Man’s Land,” France’s “Amelie,” Argentina’s “Son of the Bride,” India’s “Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India” and Norway’s “Elling.”

In their sensibility, the films this year are uncommon. Often, the foreign-language films acquired and distributed in the U.S. as “art-house” fare are intense dramas. Whether it was a post-Sept. 11 need for levity or just coincidence, all the films selected this year are less heavy and more life-affirming.

“It could just be that people are ready for these kinds of films,” said Bob Berney, senior vice president of marketing and distribution for IFC Films. “In the past that has not been the case--the [nominated] movies tend to be more heavy or serious.”

That these films were selected for entry by their native countries (in some cases, over more dramatic movies) could also be an indication of how foreign academies are becoming more savvy about the kinds of movies that appeal to American audiences, some observers say. All five nominees have been acquired by U.S. distributors, and either will be released soon or have been in theaters for several months.

With 51 countries submitting films for consideration, 2001 was a record-breaking year. In terms of quality, “it’s been the best year in 10 years,” said Mark Gill, head of Miramax L.A. who also handles many foreign-film purchases for the company. “You definitely have less of the ‘won’t travel five steps across the border’ syndrome.”

More than ever, an Oscar nomination means big business for foreign-language films. An Oscar raises the stature of a film almost immediately, and so many foreign filmmakers are learning to play the Academy Awards game. The biggest hurdle is getting members to see the film in a theater, which is an academy requirement for the foreign-language nominating committee.

Aamir Khan, star and producer of India’s entry, a 31/2-hour musical about a 19th century peasant town fighting unjust taxes imposed by their English colonizers, said he was disheartened when his film was not nominated for a Golden Globe.

“Lagaan,” directed by Ashutosh Gowariker, was a box-office smash in India, making about $14 million. Khan discovered that many U.S. industry people had never heard of his film, let alone seen it. So he took the initiative and flew to Hollywood in December--one month before academy voters decided on finalists.

With hardly any contacts, he started holding screenings. He invited people working at his hotel. He invited Indian friends who lived in L.A. Most important, he invited director Roland Joffe (“The Killing Fields”) and producer Peter Rawley, both of whom had seen the film in India.

“We told [Khan and Gowariker] in Bombay what they had to do,” Rawley said. “You have to get a buzz and a must-see feeling for the film. That is done through a series of networks.”

Three people showed up at the first screening, six at the second, 20 at the third and so on, continuing to grow. Khan also bought ads in the trade publications to publicize his screenings. Before long, he generated positive awareness of his film, which before the nominations didn’t have a U.S. distributor. Afterward, Sony Pictures Classics quickly acquired it, and “Lagaan” will be released May 10.

Khan was not sure the Bollywood musical (a contraction of Bombay and Hollywood that also refers to an exuberant style) about Indian oppression during British colonization would appeal to such a broad audience. But in Toronto last September, when his movie was screened five days after the terrorist attacks, he realized that the film’s cheerful musical numbers (reminiscent of Hollywood classics) and its message of tolerance had universal appeal.

“The mood [at the festival] was really bad,” he recalled. “After the screening, people said, ‘Thank God we saw this film. It’s a film that uplifted my spirits and gave me hope.’”

Jean-Pierre Jeunet, director of “Amelie,” said he never thought of movie-making as something important. But after Sept. 11, he said, people would approach him and say, “Your film is exactly what we need right now.”

“Amelie” has led an upsurge in the popularity of French films in their home country. It grossed more than $35 million there and, with the marketing muscle of Miramax behind it, almost $30 million in the U.S. since its release in November.

Juan Jose Campanella, director of “Son of the Bride,” surmised via phone from New York that his film too has struck a chord with people hungry for hope in the midst of tragedy--or in the case of Argentina--economic chaos. His movie outperformed all others in Argentina last year. In Spain, it became one of the biggest-grossing Latin American films. The movie, also picked up by Sony Pictures Classics, opens today.

Petter Naess, director of the Norwegian entry, “Elling,” says he wanted to make a cheerful film about a serious topic--mental illness. “Elling” was picked up by First Look Pictures and will be released in late May or early June.

“It wasn’t very important to make a film about psychiatry or about how awful it is to feel awful,” said Naess, who also directed the stage version of “Elling,” which he explained is “about being able to overcome. Humor is a way to open people’s hearts and lower people’s guard.”

Elling, the main character, suffers from intense anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder. Yet he confronts his illness with a wry sense of humor. When his best friend and mental-hospital roommate tells him, “Remember Elling, you only live once,” he responds, “Yes, I really hope so.”

As Naess says, “We all have dreams and goals we are heading for, but we also have fears and anxieties and barriers, which keep us from going where we want to go.”

The main character in Campanella’s “Son of the Bride” confesses to his girlfriend that when he was a boy, he had 40 dreams. But now, at the age of 40, he realizes he likely won’t accomplish them: “Even if I fulfill a dream a year, it wouldn’t add up.” So he settles on one: “to drop out.” He does not drop out but refocuses his life on what matters: his daughter, his girlfriend and his mother, who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease, which also afflicts Campanella’s mother.

Although the subject matter is serious, Campanella says humor makes the film--and life--bearable. “Laughter gives a character immediate empathy. Also, Argentine humor is heavily influenced by the Italian and Jewish sense of humor--you laugh in the face of tragedy. Life can be dramatic, but it should never be solemn.”

Sometimes humor is the only thing keeping you from total despair, said Danis Tanovic, director of “No Man’s Land,” which was picked up by MGM/UA, released in December and is still showing in selected theaters.

“Humor is a way to present a heavy subject and leave a little door open--like a way out. Humor gives you distance,” said Tanovic, who was a cameraman for the Bosnian army during the Bosnian war in 1993. “Humor was our secret weapon during the war because that was the only weapon we had.... To make an antiwar film you need two human beings stuck in an absurd situation.”

In “No Man’s Land,” two soldiers from opposing sides--one Bosnian, one Serb--find themselves literally stuck in no-man’s land, an abandoned ditch smack between the two armies’ outposts. They are unable to return to their posts without getting shot at by their own armies and thus find themselves at the mercy of inept U.N. observer forces and the vulturous media.

Tanovic, 33, admits that humor also helps bring in younger audiences who don’t seem to have the inclination or attention span to sit through a long message movie about the horrors of war. Sadly, young people today may not have the patience to sit through an antiwar masterpiece like Jean Renoir’s “The Grand Illusion,” said Tanovic, who lives in Paris. “We are the instant generation and filmmakers have to understand that. Nobody has time to see heavy films today. Even in [post-Sept. 11] America, everything is back to normal.

If humor informed most of the nominees this year, escapism was at the heart of France’s “Amelie.” The film, which stars Audrey Tautou as a waitress whose mission in life is to spread happiness, has become a sort of cultural phenomenon for the French. It depicts a Paris that perhaps never existed--except in director Jeunet’s mind. In his film, Paris is truly a city of light--beautiful, clean and happy.

Although the film has been criticized for its nostalgically homogenous depiction of the city that is now aggressively multiethnic, Jeunet stands by his work.

“I think it’s rare to see positive stories,” Jeunet said. “When Hollywood makes positive stories, they are sugary.... In France, we are so cynical, and for once, we were all happy watching this movie.”