A caravan escorts an elderly and dying Sheikh to Sijilmasa. His last wish is to be buried with his loved ones. But death does not wait and reaches him while crossing the rugged peaks of the Moroccan Atlas. The caravaneers, fearful of the mountain, refuse to continue transporting the corpse.
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An enigmatic quest across the Atlas Mountains mesmerises and disorientates in equal measures in Laxe's boundless exploration of faith, landscape and tradition. The exquisite 16mm photography and soundscape carve a rich viewing experience as oblique as it is rewarding; you just have to be prepared to abandon any hope of an answer to the questions the film raises.
The mimosa flower can symbolize philosophy, expansion, travel, and mourning. If Meek's Cutoff and David Lynch had a Moroccan baby. Mauro Herce's 16mm photography called upon Todd AO glory days. The narrative fuses different planes of existence in a seamless yet remarkable way, knowing when to breathe and be silent. Oliver Laxe intrigues me greatly as a storyteller. An austere, Biblically beautiful location.
Slow and intermittently interesting, Oliver Laxe just didn't do enough with the direction of this picture to really draw me in as I wanted. It is, however, am enjoyably unique riff on some standard movie tropes.
Laxe was certainly aware of Tommy Lee Jones' The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. Mimosas is an uninspired and unaccomplished copy with a pretension for mysticism and the so often sought-after mesmerising shots as a substitute for lyrical interpretation. Posing against the imposing backdrop of the Atlas mountains is easy but Laxe lacks the vision to deliver something more than just a beautiful postcard.
Beautifully shot, interesting parallels between religion, cultural identities, but directing and editing don't create exceptional cinematic experience. This is a typical critically beloved movie which doesn't connect with general audiences.
Dans les montagnes inhospitalières du Maroc, trois hommes unissent leurs forces pour ramener la dépouille d'un cheikh à ses proches. Avec ses airs de western métaphysique, ce périple contemplatif empreint de religion se révèle envoûtant.
Chronique complète à lire sur Citazine : http://www.citazine.fr/article/mimosas-voie-de-atlas-western-spirituel-au-maroc
Well that film blew me the fuck away, yes it did. The storytelling, something kind of Gilliam-esque about it, the dreamlike quality that isn't obvious but rather crawls up on you and hen lingers. The way the moods rise in this are poetic, fluid for a journey such as this. And I've never seen a spiritual journey like this depicted in such a way before. This is the film I needed to see right now.
A meditative pilgrimage that crosses parallel landscapes of waking life, myth and imagination. The film reveals life as a many layered tapestry of narratives proceeding toward either spiritual resolution or confusion and ultimately death. Here the mountains and desert are vast slates across which the actors in our personal dramas wander as both observers and protagonists.