The Paradise Suite is Dutch director/writer Joost van der Ginkel's attempt at mosaic-type storytelling. We've seen this many times before, for example in Iñárritu's Death Trilogy. Yet their continued relevance testifies to their poetic potential. Van der Ginkel succeeds in crafting an excruciating, relentlessly intense tale and yet it's that same relentlessness that makes the film go from 'poetic tale of human suffering' to 'my God, how long will this continue' in the blink of an eye.
We're first introduced to all the characters: the Bulgarian Senya lives in Sofia, but hopes to become a model. She and three others are selected to go to another photoshoot in Amsterdam, but they end up in the Red Light district. One of the kingpins is Ivica, a Serb who is just discovering the pleasures of being a father. Then there's Yaya, an African man, who tries to prevent a mother and two children from being evicted by promising to pay their rent, grieving mother Seka who's obsessed with revenge and a Swedish boy pianist Lukas suffering under his father who mixes up the roles of being a father and a music teacher. Whether by force or a mere glance, some of these people's paths will cross.
These mosaic-films depend on emotional force and thematic unity. There's plenty of the former to go around, of the blunt force trauma kind. Nary a scene goes by without something unsettling happening, whether it's Lukas being bullied at school, his being unable to control his bladder, the mother in Yaya's apartment complex telling how she has been 'paying' the rent, Jenya 'working' in the Red Light district; the list goes on. Believe me, it does. Then again, I did like that certain characters embodied variations on a certain theme. For example, the notion of parenthood is shared by several characters.
The film's true strength is acting. It's very much a multicultural cast, yet there's not one weak link, one weakly acted moment. The same cannot be said for the music, however, which tends to drone on and on. It's the kind of droning that's supposed to get you into the characters' heads, but ends up making you aware of the aches in your own.
But in the end, it's the constant misfortune experienced by these characters that prevents The Paradise Suite from reaching the upper echelons of mosaic films. There's happy endings for some of them, but the film's overall negativity makes you leave the theatre not lost in poetic thoughts on universal suffering and how we're all one, but like you've just endured a brutal beatdown. In other words, the drama is definitely presented--and acted out--in a realistic fashion, but it never rises to a higher plane of existence, so to speak. It's universal suffering without the 'universal'.
We're first introduced to all the characters: the Bulgarian Senya lives in Sofia, but hopes to become a model. She and three others are selected to go to another photoshoot in Amsterdam, but they end up in the Red Light district. One of the kingpins is Ivica, a Serb who is just discovering the pleasures of being a father. Then there's Yaya, an African man, who tries to prevent a mother and two children from being evicted by promising to pay their rent, grieving mother Seka who's obsessed with revenge and a Swedish boy pianist Lukas suffering under his father who mixes up the roles of being a father and a music teacher. Whether by force or a mere glance, some of these people's paths will cross.
These mosaic-films depend on emotional force and thematic unity. There's plenty of the former to go around, of the blunt force trauma kind. Nary a scene goes by without something unsettling happening, whether it's Lukas being bullied at school, his being unable to control his bladder, the mother in Yaya's apartment complex telling how she has been 'paying' the rent, Jenya 'working' in the Red Light district; the list goes on. Believe me, it does. Then again, I did like that certain characters embodied variations on a certain theme. For example, the notion of parenthood is shared by several characters.
The film's true strength is acting. It's very much a multicultural cast, yet there's not one weak link, one weakly acted moment. The same cannot be said for the music, however, which tends to drone on and on. It's the kind of droning that's supposed to get you into the characters' heads, but ends up making you aware of the aches in your own.
But in the end, it's the constant misfortune experienced by these characters that prevents The Paradise Suite from reaching the upper echelons of mosaic films. There's happy endings for some of them, but the film's overall negativity makes you leave the theatre not lost in poetic thoughts on universal suffering and how we're all one, but like you've just endured a brutal beatdown. In other words, the drama is definitely presented--and acted out--in a realistic fashion, but it never rises to a higher plane of existence, so to speak. It's universal suffering without the 'universal'.
