Capernaum Full Movie 2018 Watch Online & Download ON HD with English Subtitles. Capernaum Full Movie in HD quality online for free, putlocker Capernaum, 123movies , xmovies8 , fmovies, notepad, smart phone, iPhone, Apple …..
Capernaum Full Movie 2018 Watch Online & Download Free HD TV Channel
“Capernaum,” Nadine Labaki’s hectic and heartbreaking new film, borrows its name from an ancient city condemned to hell, according to the Book of Matthew, by Jesus himself. The word has since become a synonym for chaos, and modern Beirut as captured by Ms. Labaki’s camera is a teeming vision of the inferno, a place without peace, mercy or order.
Its crowded streets and makeshift dwellings hold endless desperation, but the movie is too busy, too angry and too absorbing — too exciting, you might say — to succumb to despair. The sources of its remarkable energy are Ms. Labaki’s curiosity and the charisma of her young star, Zain al Rafeea, who plays a boy named Zain.
Zain is around 12, though his precise age is unknown to him, his parents or the Lebanese authorities. In some ways, he looks much younger, a skinny urchin with big eyes and an air of worried determination. But he also seems older than his years — hard-working and resilient, with an impressive command of profanity and a steely defiance that can back down grown men.Early in “Capernaum,” a judge asks the 12-year-old boy standing trial in a Beirut courtroom, “Why do you want to sue your parents?” He responds, “Because I was born.” Here’s where we’re supposed to gasp and cluck our tongues, else we have no soul.
This revved-up line, like most of its neo-neorealist film, pays homage to the famous quote “I curse the day I was born,” uttered by the father Antonio (mired in postwar Italian poverty, desperate for a job to feed his starving wife and son) in Vittorio De Sica’s “Bicycle Thieves” (1948). But “Capernaum” ups the ante by having the line spoken by the photogenic son, Zain, instead of the harried father, and by having the son bear witness to an endless parade of cruelties. Zain’s 11-year-old sister is married off to and impregnated by the landlord’s son, separated in a scene recalling Chaplin’s “The Kid” (1921). Forced out of his home by his abhorrent parents, Zain finds shelter in a roach-infested shantytown with undocumented Ethiopian refugee Rahil. She slaves to bring some bread home to her baby, but when she is suddenly arrested at work, Zain must take the hungry baby under his wing.
Throughout, Lebanese director Nadine Labaki delivers the cheap emo goods faster than an Amazon Prime package, and “Capernaum” is just as soul-killing. Her film reduces agonized-over philosophical choices of the Italian neorealists (De Sica, Roberto Rossellini, early Luchino Visconti) to a grab bag of aesthetic tricks. A non-actor here, a shaky-cam fight there, and voila: instant knowledge of the world beyond your own bubble.
Here’s the moral difference: “Bicycle Thieves” made drama out of the doldrums of everyday misery, its plot was unadorned of any extra riders, its sense of moral outrage reflected by its bare style and the bare space in which it allowed its actors to work. By contrast, “Capernaum” is so slick and packaged in every shot, so gummed up with effects, flourishes, cliches, that the viewer leaves the theater feeling like a person battered with a sledgehammer marked “Empathy”— a label pasted over the true inscription, “Pity.” The neorealists nudged. “Capernaum” hectors you to see, dammit! cry, dammit! feel, dammit!
The only reason to watch is to witness a star being cynically born: 14-year-old Zain Al Rafeea (whose character name is also Zain). Ever since the film won the Jury Prize at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, he’s been advertised as a pint-sized James Dean. Actually, Zain has none of Dean’s writhing paranoia; with a tighter self-control than Dean’s balls of adolescent rage, this jaded little man of few words except “sonuvabitch” has more in common with the brash, self-assured Jean-Pierre Léaud of Truffaut’s “The 400 Blows” (1959). Zain’s punk attitude (the way he brandishes a knife, knowing exactly where it needs to be stuck in the stomach to draw the most blood) is neither fake nor put-on. His eyes are filled with a contempt for life that the square-angled film around him never allows to bloom in all its stubbornness and malignancy.
One wishes for a movie better grooved to his natural talent. Labaki pushes her camera practically up his nose in endless, distracting close-ups. She allows her lead actor no intimacy, forbidding an unfettered, anti-movie, string-and-choir-free reality from creeping in. The pain in Zain’s eyes is overlit into Instagrammable moody shots, looking off knowingly into a deep, deep unknown that we can never know.Fearing we won’t get the point, Labaki slathers on overblown string music by Khaled Mouzanar. Moments of raw existential angst (Zain’s performance, a shot of him feeding powdered milk to the wincing-in-pain baby on the side of a busy freeway, a shot of Rahil expunging milk from her heavy breasts) are cheapened by the horribly obvious score.
The most effective and truthful instrument is not the faux-profound violin, but the baby and the endless caterwauling it produces: a sustained whine followed by a three-pronged froggy croak, as if trying to shake out the final few droplets of pain before the cycle starts again.As the story of a feisty, vulnerable 12-year-old navigating the unforgiving streets of modern Beirut, “Capernaum” feels like a pointedly pessimistic offshoot of “The Bicycle Thief,” the classic Italian neorealist tale of dispossession and dogged perseverance. Drenched in poverty, hopelessness and impotent fury, this impassioned if ambiguously focused story often feels like an exercise in psycho-emotional stamina, as writer-director Nadine Labaki puts her endearing young protagonist into increasingly agonizing situations, sorely testing the audience’s capacity for vicarious but wrenchingly realistic suffering.
Since making her effervescent feature debut “Caramel” in 2007, Labaki has embraced an eclectic, unpredictable approach to stories, genre and tone. Her most recent film, “Where Do We Go Now?,” was a lively amalgam of satire, musical and mordant folk tale. With “Capernaum,” the filmmaker discovers a far more sober side. As the movie opens, a boy named Zain (Zain Al Rafeea) is being led before a judge. But, strangely — despite the handcuffs he’s wearing — he’s also the plaintiff.
It turns out that the youngster is in jail for an act of violence, but has announced that he wants to sue his parents for the crime of bringing him into a world defined by physical hardship, emotional neglect, mental anguish and a fatal lack of innocence.From that moment on, “Capernaum” shows viewers what has brought Zain to this point, a grievous litany of parental indifference and social hostility that recalls Dickens at his most heartbreaking and Swift at its most floridly overstated.
Zain lives in a cramped apartment with several brothers and sisters; one of them, a sweet girl named Sahar (Cedra Izam), is in danger of being sold into marriage by her parents to a much older shopkeeper in the neighborhood. At a pivotal point in the narrative, Zain leaves home, taking refuge in an amusement park where he meets an Ethiopian immigrant named Rahil (Yordanos Shiferaw). Along with her infant son, they form a kind of provisional family, offering a ray of hope that Zain will find the safety and nurturing he instinctively knows is his due.