User reviews

Based on a best-selling Estonian novel, "November" is a mixture of magic, black humor and romantic love. The story is set in a pagan Estonian village where werewolves, the plague, and spirits roam. The villagers' main problem is how to survive the cold, dark winter. And, to that aim, nothing is taboo. People steal from each other, from their German manor lords, and from spirits, the devil and even Christ.

The jaded genre fan, this reviewer included, rarely says "what the heck??" when watching a film. Because, frankly, once you have reviewed over 6,000 titles including some of Takashi Miike's craziest work ("Visitor Q") you feel like you have seen it all. But then comes the opening scene of "November", leaving you wide-eyed and full of glee. What is this medieval, cow-stealing robot? This magical creature is a "kratt", which comes from Estonian mythology. If you happen to be like me, you don't know anything about Estonian mythology. Well, a kratt is a collection of sticks, straw and farm implements that is granted life by the devil after its make offers up some blood, representing their soul. The maker then commands the kratt, who spends most of its time stealing things – including cows – for its master. If someone is especially clever, they can use blackcurrant berries rather than blood; the devil apparently does not check very closely, and you end up getting a kratt without forfeiting your soul. (You probably anger the devil in the process, but that is a whole other story.) Besides the kratt, the first thing that stands out is the beautiful cinematography in grey, creating a bleak world and occasionally the picture even looks washed out. Often, black and white looks better than color, in part because it allows for greater contrast. Interestingly, it looks great here despite the lack of contrast; this is a murky land, and it is viewed in a murky fashion. Such a choice seems appropriate for this village of squalor, and it causes me to wonder if perhaps Robert Eggers' "The Witch" might have benefited from black and white? While there are multiple plots and subplots occurring simultaneously, the central focus is a young woman named Liina (Rea Lest) who is hopelessly and forlornly in love with a village boy named Hans (Jorgen Liik). There romance is pretty standard, the typically boy meets girl story in a small village. Except that one of the two runs the risk of becoming a werewolf. And yes, this actually makes complete sense.

Rea Lest is a new actress and will not be familiar to North American audiences. Jorgen Liik is slightly more experienced, but again will probably not appear familiar. The one actor who should definitely stand out is Dieter Laser, who appears as the baron. Active since the 1960s, today Laser is almost universally recognized for his starring roles in "The Human Centipede" and its second sequel. His role is important not just because he is a baron, but because he represents the more mainstream, anti-pagan religious and Christian views in the film.

A scene at the church suggests a rejection of Christ in favor of folk magic, but instead we have to wonder if they really accept a mixture of the two? They clearly believe in the folk ways (werewolves, talking with spirits) but do not reject the Christian views entirely. One hunter uses blessed communion wafers in his hunting, believing that Christ guides him. There is also a preoccupation with souls; whether longing for a soul, selling your soul, or living without a soul, the theme of souls comes up again and again.

After exceptional cinematography, the thing that stands out most is the menacing music, creating a constant sense of unease. There is even the inclusion of "Blue Danube" into the score. For reasons unknown, that song has always left me feeling uncomfortable, at least as far back as 1992 when it was incorporated into the video game "Alone in the Dark". It seems no less unsettling to me here.

"November" plays July 23, 2017 at the Fantasia International Film Festival, and is one of the more highly-anticipated films of the 3-week schedule. For those who cannot attend, the movie was picked up by Oscilloscope, who will be releasing the film in theaters this Fall. This film will open doors for writer-director Rainer Sarnet.

Based on Estonian bestselling novel "Rehepapp ehk November" by Andrus Kivirähk. Many (me included) have deemed the book to be nearly impossible to adapt onto the big screen and it shows in the film. Still writer/director Rainer Sarnet has done quite nice (bit uneven at places, perhaps) job handling this difficult source material and creating surreal (anti)fairy tale land of misery and condemnation that stays true to it's roots but still stands on its own. What I mean by anti fairy tale is the landscape is bleak, people are miserable, they deceive and steal without any idea what to to with all the treasures they grabbed but simply bury them or hide under floorboards. Love is some strange silliness according these people and it's destined to fail. They follow old beliefs and base their lives on myths and legends. Tragic and same time hilariously beautiful in the sauce of dark humor. Some of the cast are formed by non-professional actors, thus some of the acting might seem wooden, but it adds to whole charm of the movie.

'November' might be little bit difficult to follow and understand to those who haven't read the novel before. Or someone who doesn't possess much knowledge about Estonian mythology and history. At least magnificent black and white cinematography offers some visual beauty to strange surreal land for those who don't get all what is hidden in the story. 'November' is pure art-house experiment that could have gone wrong in some many places.

This was a really slow burn of a film, but it was also kind of intense at points. The cinematography was incredible, and I enjoyed the interplay of the pagan and Christian beliefs. It's not everyone's cup of tea, but I would watch this again.

Adaptation of an Estonian novel, it is a fine, subtle, inspired mix of fairy tale, magic and pagan community. A fascinating meeting of love, stealing and forbidden secrets. Embroidery of dark humor and poetry and high sensitivity. Impressive cinematography, it is not surprising but real well crafted. Short, just an Estonian gem.

In a striking, highly expressive black and white, the film tells a tragic love story with the rhythms and themes of a fairy tale. The world is that of folklore, the characters are fantastic and metaphysical: there is the Devil, there is the Plague, there is the Witch, there are the peasants who sell their souls to the Devil to get surreal metal workers in exchange (peasant work tools tied together with, instead of a head, a bovine skull: they are the "kratt" of Estonian folklore). Everywhere there is theft, deception and death, and on the eve of all saints' days the dead come to visit the living, to eat with them at table and to claim their jewellery. And yet, in spite of all this, we are not in the realm of horror at all, but of the romantic fairy tale: Liina's love for her young peer Hans, who in turn loves the local baron's daughter with an impossible love, is the soul of the whole film. And the final underwater kiss of the two boys restores to the viewer the poetry of the fairy tales of our childhood.

A beautiful work embellished by a beautiful photography.

If you like surrealism and dark fairy-tales, and you haven't seen November yet, watch it before reading my review, because I wouldn't want to influence your expectations.

When I started watching November all I knew was IMDb's Drama, Fantasy, Horror categorization. Little did I know that I was about to experience two hours of a beauty so mesmerizing that it would almost bring tears to my eyes.

November is one of those rare cinematic creations that transcends the medium from mere entertainment into a profound work of art. I can think of only a handful of directors that have lifted the art of cinema to this level, such as Akira Kurosawa, Stanley Kubrick, David Lynch and Lars von Trier.

November is a surreal, dark fairy-tale that takes place in a mediaeval Estonian village. The story is a mix of Shakespearean romantic drama and rural folklore that pleasantly reminded me of the magical countryside fairy-tale atmosphere in the works of the Croatian naive art painter Ivan Generalic, as well as the imaginative surreal comics by the Greek-French comic creator Fred (Frédéric Aristidès).

The most breathtaking aspect of November is its cinematography. The film is shot in moody, darkly romantic black and white photography with beautiful lighting and screen compositions.

But November is filled with beauty in multiple layers. A beautiful soundtrack - incorporating Beethoven's Mondschein-Sonate - intensifies the atmosphere, the costumes, sets and overall art direction are gorgeous, and there's even lyrical poetry of a poignant grace. It will be a challenge to create something more romantic than November has established.

Last but not least, the casting and actors are also laudable. The two main female characters radiate a magnetic beauty, and the peasants look like they have been time-transported from an actual mediaeval village.

It's hard to know how to describe this movie to someone who hasn't seen it.

A superbly strange invocation of a past time when folklore was part of life. Sort of a horror movie but calling it that is misleading. An elegant and elegiac tale of daily desperation full of powerful images and a tone of chilled struggle.

They reveal the supernatural elements fairly early so be prepared for that. It's not that kind of movie with a lot of build up. The practical effects in realizing the satanic creations are terribly convincing and fascinatingly impressive.

It's a refreshing movie-movie of a type I thought they'd stopped making. Classic in concept but very fresh in its handling.

I dare say if I was better at picking up nuances I'd have enjoyed it even more.

I rented this film on a lark not knowing anything but the brief synopsis on Netflix. It languished a few days atop my Blu-ray player, then last night I popped it in so I could send it back. Holy cow!!! (an actual reference to an unforgettable image within the film!) from the very first exquisitely rendered silver-toned b&w shot I felt mesmerized by the films originality, the simplicity and clarity of its absurdity, the openness and uniqueness of every actor's face, the alchemy of the cinematography that strips its images to the essential and presents every scene like a haiku. Sometimes surreal films can be all style and no substance, but not here. The way the characters interact and how the director (Rainer Sarnet) places the camera to capture nuances in each character, the relationships all resonate as identifiable and real. That said, you are so thrown off balance by the strangeness of what you're actually viewing....you find yourself constantly trying to get your bearings. This is a masterpiece to be surrendered to. When a film maker is this kind of visionary...all you can do is trust he'll take you somewhere you've never been before. I look forward to taking this journey again. A new favorite.

It's all about the moodiness. I am once again reminded how it is for foreigners when they see or hear a folk tale from my country, a really obscure one, one that has layers specific to that culture and only that culture can identify with.

It felt like a movie that would play in a museum about the estonian people. It's definitely a spectacle but I would be lying in saying I fully understood it. I did like the kratt design and the way they interacted with the world and the world interacted with them.

I think they were the reason I added this one to the watchlist but I can't remember where they were mentioned.

To all those who have difficulties understanding November: this is not Tarkovsky, Bergman, or Bunuel! This is just plain good art, with a story, good acting, awkward turns and situations - so get up from your Hollywood-trained armchair and give yourself a chance!

The weird, dark, and mysterious film, with many ugly and weird characters and creatures. Probably, the idea of doing it entirely in black and white is for that reason. The narrative is a little slow, matching the dark and winter atmosphere in which it takes place. It is not a movie for anyone. It is for selected audiences typical of these film festivals that exist in the world. Perhaps there is some philosophical idea behind the plot, which I was not interested in knowing. I didn't like the movie and therefore I can't recommend it.

"November" is a beautiful, poetic, darkly comedic, fantastical, tragic love story that will absolutely dazzle arthouse audiences (and probably no one else). The film was made in Estonia, shot in stark black and white, and the script features encounters with the dead and the devil, bargains with witches, bullets made of sacramental bread, magic spells, hidden treasure, a bewitched Baroness, a literal personification of pestilence, an omniscient snowman, and tools that are bewitched into creatures that speak and work. The film has many scenes where there's very little dialogue, and the viewer is forced to often forced to piece together what it is that is happening, or, if what is happening is completely real or metaphorical. "November" is a fantasy masterpiece on par with many of the films that Guillermo Del Toro ("Shape of Water") and Terry Gilliam ("Brazil") have put out.

A strange trip deep in the wilderness.

I could try to explain to you what the hell is going on but in all honesty that would not be a good explanation as I have no clue what's happening here.

Seems very experimental with some loose concepts that make it seem like a science fiction film.

Confusing as it was I did like the imagery. I'm a sucker for a film shot it the cold wilderness. A lot of the picture seemed grim and distributed but I found it hard to get into as I really don't know what's going on and kept falling in and out of reading the subtitles.

I like the picture, but the story I could not keep up with.

A not very coherent mishmash of Estonian unrequited love; witches; supernatural; folklore/myth; the devil; werewolves all very loosely connected to each other. You really don't see much, if any, of the above - just suggestive through a few props (Kratts - explained in a moment), makeup, and suggestive scenes in counterpoint to each other. The best part was the very believable, gritty, dirty, raw portrayal of peasant life. No, the best part were these brought to life assemblages of branches or farm implements to form a somewhat living thingy (a Kratt). Very realistic (except I think I saw a support line at one point), and actually scarier than any CGI creature I've seen. One of the creatures reminded me of Picasso's "Bull's Head". Another movie featuring these creatures would be creatively scarier than hell.

7 stars for cinematography/images. 0 stars for story. Art for art's sake. Form without much content. Low, dumb humor. Eastern European nihilism (yawn). Contrast this empty, film-fest exercise to the wonderful Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, also based on Russian peasant folklore.

'November' is based on the novel 'Rehepapp' by Andrus Kivirähk and is awash with elements from pagan Estonian folklore. Presented in stark but rich black and white, extraordinary images and set-pieces whirl and skim past us unsuspecting viewers. Underneath all this, the actual story is pretty thin, but that really isn't a consideration. The cinematography is exceptional and squeezes every last drop out of the dark fairy-tale atmosphere.

The plot concerns Liina (Rea Lest) and her patient attempts to attract handsome Hans (Jörgen Liik). However, this is no mere story of love and longing. Mythical-looking, surreal creatures made from wood, metal and bone - Kratts - are obliging and loyal, unsettling and strangely loveable. You won't exactly want one for Christmas, but they have a strange appeal.

At just shy of two hours, 'November' asks the audience to be enthralled by its weirdness for a long time, but that is never really a problem; you don't want to leave until the story is done.

This movie opens with one of the most enticingly fantastic scenes ever filmed and never lets up. It's weird and wonderful, but I'm sure it isn't everyone's cup of tea. A tsunami of crazy surreal imagery and dark humor, it makes Eraserhead look like Mary Poppins.

First, let me say it's ridiculous that this film was snubbed by the Academy Awards - it should at least have been nominated for best foreign film and best cinematography, which is breathtaking - and it was rewarded with an ASC Spotlight Award and other major awards.

The direction is masterful and the casting is perfect, from the young ingenues longing for love to the village grotesques who look like they've stepped right out of an ancient Baltic village. Between the evocative black and white cinematography and the colorfully eccentric characters, the film is like a hybrid of Ingmar Bergman's early films and Fellini's most fanciful works.

Although the story contains ghosts, a werewolf, giant chickens, a witch and magical robots made of antique farm tools, my guess is it would more likely appeal to fans of Cocteau than fans of Lon Chaney.

If you're looking for something truly different, yet highly entertaining, here it is. Just open your mind and enjoy the ride.

I put this on while half-drunk and only managed to comprehend moments of it at a time. But sat riveted until the end. Then watched it again sober (which helped, some). Because, even while addled, I was so captivated by its beauty that I could not stop watching. Its beauty is not empty, as in, say, most Antonioni movies (imho), but rich and dense and considered. Think of a hand-woven tapestry constantly unfurling before your eyes. I mention my half-drunk first viewing because I believe that, even if you are not acquainted with the pace of a Tarkovsky film, or the innate weirdness of the Japanese New Wave, or films like Children of Paradise that try to capture an entire era rather than the intimate story of just one or two characters, you will find tons to love here. And you too will be unable to turn away. For sure, this one will stay with me forever. So glad I took the plunge. I would love to see this someday in a theater with many others. Hope to see you there.

"November" is a film from Estonia. Apart from "Darkness in Tallinn" (1993, Iikka Järvi-Laturi) I can't remember that I have ever seen another film from Estonia. And even counting in "Darkness in Tallinn" is not wholy justified as this film is situated in Estonia but made by a Finnish director.

"November" can be characterized as "folk horror". A genre in which christianity is mixed with or even overgrown by pagan religion. This genre was given a boost by Robert Eggers, for example in his films "The witch" (2015) and "The lighthouse" (2019). Given his success the genre proliferated to other countries, for example to Estonia but also to my homecountry the Netherlands ("Moloch", 2022, Nico van den Brink).

The story of "November" is rather simple. A girl loves a boy but this boy loves another woman. By means of black magic the girl tries to make the boy fall in love with her. The problem with the movie is however that the black magic part is rather incomprehensible. "November" shares this feature with some other Eastern European movies situated in the Middle Ages, such as "The Saragossa manuscript" (1965, Wojciech Has) and "Marketa Lazarova" (1967, Frantisek Vlacil).

Folk tales often contain a core of moralism. Take "Little Red Riding Hood" who warns teenage girls for men with sexual intentions. That later versions (Grimm brothers) took the sharp edges off is another story. For an adaptation of the original version of "Little Red Riding Hood" see "The company of wolves" (1984, Neil Jordan).

Like folk tales also folk horror often contains a core of moralism, and "November" is no exception. In this film the girl faces the (moral) question how far to go with the use of black magic in order to get the boy she wants.

Apart from black magic the story also contains some historical content. The peasants in "November" are native Estonians, but the nobility is German. This draws attention to the fact that the Baltic states for a long time belonged to the sphere of influence of East Prussia. You can still see that from the names of some cities. The Lithuanian city of Klaipeida was formerly known under its German name of Memel.

The bio caught my attention during the lübeck nordische filmtage 2017. i was to late to aquire a ticket. I was lucky to attend a screening of the film at something called baltic film days. Its extremely original and it reels you in. Enthralling. Its rare to find though.