The first time I touched a gun, it was late into my teen years. I remember when and where. Entrusted to my care was a shotgun. The gun weighed on my shoulder and arms. Squeezing the trigger brought the desired effect, but for the life of me, I never did hit a single clay disc. As the skeet sailed by over and over again, I struggled to concentrate on the target and not the power I held in my hands. Little has changed since that day. I am still a blind shot, yet I'd like to think I've more respect for a firearm.
In the film 13 Tzameti, it is hard to tell if Sébastian (Georges Babluani) has touched a gun before joining a game in which a requirement is putting a gun to the head of the man standing beside him and pulling the trigger. It's hard to gauge what kind of man Sébastian is in general. He doesn't say much and nearly every bit of information to be gleaned about his character must be drawn from his actions. It isn't hard to see, however, that 13 Tzameti is about the power of violence. There's no moaning about or philosophical waxings by the characters. The content is in the visuals not the dialogue.
And the visuals are stunning. It's hard to rave about the beauty of a movie that is preoccupied with the nature of violence, but oddly, it's appropriate to 13 Tzameti. It's photographed in black and white which seems to heighten the tension. Without color, violence is reduced to a stark game of survival. It's primal. It's raw. 13 Tzameti is not interested in muddying its waters with too much visual or spoken information.
Instead, we, the viewers, are plunged into violence at its most basic level; therefore, the question 13 Tzameti wishes to singularly ask is "What is the effect of violence on a man?"or put another way, "How does violence change a man?" Great war movies such as Full Metal Jacket or (the 1930 film version of) All Quiet on the Western Front try to do this but generally sidetrack such questions with dogmatism: The war movie is interested in the morality of war itself and brings the effects of violence into play only to strengthen its arguments.
Since 13 Tzameti has no dog in the hunt in respects to the merits of war, we are generally spared any debate of ideology. Since there is no debate, only "the act" itself remains, the act of putting a gun to another man's head and pulling the trigger without reason, there is only one way we can react. "This is absurd!" Since the rightness of the actions on screen are not in doubt, all we are interested in is how Sébastian reacts to the "game" into which he has been led.
Much praise is required for Georges Babluani. 13 Tzameti is not a piece of thriller hackwork singularly because of him. Babluani is controlled in his acting. He never gives too much away by crying hysterically, moping, gesticulating wildly, or breaking into monologue. When he tries to run away from the violence, he does so without panic. When he cannot initially bring himself to pull the trigger, he refuses to sensationalize the moment.
I have only one major complaint with 13 Tzameti; however, it undoes what has come before. It breaks down in the third act. This is a common complaint among movies. A great premise is broken by an unfocused conclusion. Since the major question 13 Tzameti is asking is "How does violence change a man?", the only reasonable conclusion should answer, or attempt to answer, that question. 13 Tzameti does not even attempt it. In the final moments, an unbelievable coincidence beats the viewer about the head with the absurdity of violence. It's clear the director is not sure that we've picked up on this yet. The inclusion of such a silly and unconvincing coincidence by this point in the movie would be funny if it wasn't so sad that it ruins an otherwise great movie. Only a dunce would have missed the absurdity of the violence in the movie. Why do we need to be told so obviously? I left the movie feeling cheated. I had been cheated out of ultimately seeing the long term effects of the violence on the main character, and for that, it is impossible for me to say that this movie is anything other than interesting. It's not a good film and certainly not a great film. It is simply interesting, interesting to wonder what could have been and interesting to see an excellent acting performance by Babluani.
In the film 13 Tzameti, it is hard to tell if Sébastian (Georges Babluani) has touched a gun before joining a game in which a requirement is putting a gun to the head of the man standing beside him and pulling the trigger. It's hard to gauge what kind of man Sébastian is in general. He doesn't say much and nearly every bit of information to be gleaned about his character must be drawn from his actions. It isn't hard to see, however, that 13 Tzameti is about the power of violence. There's no moaning about or philosophical waxings by the characters. The content is in the visuals not the dialogue.
And the visuals are stunning. It's hard to rave about the beauty of a movie that is preoccupied with the nature of violence, but oddly, it's appropriate to 13 Tzameti. It's photographed in black and white which seems to heighten the tension. Without color, violence is reduced to a stark game of survival. It's primal. It's raw. 13 Tzameti is not interested in muddying its waters with too much visual or spoken information.
Instead, we, the viewers, are plunged into violence at its most basic level; therefore, the question 13 Tzameti wishes to singularly ask is "What is the effect of violence on a man?"or put another way, "How does violence change a man?" Great war movies such as Full Metal Jacket or (the 1930 film version of) All Quiet on the Western Front try to do this but generally sidetrack such questions with dogmatism: The war movie is interested in the morality of war itself and brings the effects of violence into play only to strengthen its arguments.
Since 13 Tzameti has no dog in the hunt in respects to the merits of war, we are generally spared any debate of ideology. Since there is no debate, only "the act" itself remains, the act of putting a gun to another man's head and pulling the trigger without reason, there is only one way we can react. "This is absurd!" Since the rightness of the actions on screen are not in doubt, all we are interested in is how Sébastian reacts to the "game" into which he has been led.
Much praise is required for Georges Babluani. 13 Tzameti is not a piece of thriller hackwork singularly because of him. Babluani is controlled in his acting. He never gives too much away by crying hysterically, moping, gesticulating wildly, or breaking into monologue. When he tries to run away from the violence, he does so without panic. When he cannot initially bring himself to pull the trigger, he refuses to sensationalize the moment.
I have only one major complaint with 13 Tzameti; however, it undoes what has come before. It breaks down in the third act. This is a common complaint among movies. A great premise is broken by an unfocused conclusion. Since the major question 13 Tzameti is asking is "How does violence change a man?", the only reasonable conclusion should answer, or attempt to answer, that question. 13 Tzameti does not even attempt it. In the final moments, an unbelievable coincidence beats the viewer about the head with the absurdity of violence. It's clear the director is not sure that we've picked up on this yet. The inclusion of such a silly and unconvincing coincidence by this point in the movie would be funny if it wasn't so sad that it ruins an otherwise great movie. Only a dunce would have missed the absurdity of the violence in the movie. Why do we need to be told so obviously? I left the movie feeling cheated. I had been cheated out of ultimately seeing the long term effects of the violence on the main character, and for that, it is impossible for me to say that this movie is anything other than interesting. It's not a good film and certainly not a great film. It is simply interesting, interesting to wonder what could have been and interesting to see an excellent acting performance by Babluani.