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Film: The Invisibles
Release date: 20th November 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 22 mins
Director: Gael Garcia Bernal & Marc Silver
Starring: Gael Garcia Bernal
Genre: Documentary
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico
This feature is available to watch online at: youtube.com/invisiblesfilms
Gael Garcia Bernal is probably better known for his Academy Awards than his political activism, and his co-director Mark Silver is not exactly a household name, but together they have created The Invisibles, a story of South American migrants. A documentary. These people, and these stories, are real. You can watch all of these films at youtube.com now.
Part 1 – Seaworld
In this first film, we are introduced to a group of migrants from South America who are stopping during their journey at a centre run by volunteers in Mexico.
There are single men and women and there are entire families, all searching for a better life over the border. Most poignantly, we are introduced to a little girl from El Salvador who desperately wants to see ‘beautiful’ America. Her youngest brother is only one year and eight months old. Their parents have risked everything to get their family this far, and the journey is far from over…
Marc Silver is an accomplished director and the precision of his opening shots is startling and stark. At first, there is no speech, just rolling music that washes over the men, women and boys who lie or sit against the concrete walls, listless in their anticipation of what the future may bring them. When the dialogue does begin, it is often in the form of a voiceover, leaving the individuals in shot to their own quiet dignity, while the tales of torture and death, destinies that could befall anyone of these people, are told in a calm and matter of fact manner. If people cannot provide the details of rich American family members, the tips of their tongues will be removed. If they have no money or information, they will be cut up and placed in 200 litres of boiling oil, sometimes while they are still alive, until the only thing left of them is old photos on posters of the missing.
By the time the film reaches the small El Salvadorian girl, the outlook is bleak, yet she is happy, and smiles at the thought of Sea World in America, a capitalist dream that she does not realise she is not entitled to. Captured in the name of this first instalment is the innocence of childhood.
Throughout the film emotions are kept at bay. These people no longer have the energy to express grief. The butchering of humanity becomes as regular as the chopping of the dark red beetroot in the centres’ kitchen. All that remains is a quiet sense of disbelief, which is transmitted to the viewer, that all this can happen to normal people, in the modern world, at the US border.
Part 2 – Six Out Of Ten
Garcia Bernal interviews three single mothers from Honduras. They have left their country to better provide for their children, but to do this they have had to leave behind the very people they love the most. Often the fathers of their children are dead. They see themselves as having no other choice than to travel to the US for work. Yet, on the way to America, six out of ten women will be sexually abused…
Silver uses a low camera angle to create intimacy in the first scene. Garcia Bernal sits with the women on the train tracks. For this moment, he has thrown in his lot with the people who have landed in his country of birth.
Through the hazy light of sunrise or sunset – the boundaries are blurred here for the migrant population who do not officially exist – the viewer finds themselves in a rubbish tip where people work, picking through the debris. A sun-bleached doll, discarded on the dry earth, is a reminder of the bodies found in the desert that borders Arizona. Sliver grinds this home with repeated cutaways to a barren tree in which carrion birds await their feast.
The human cost of this journey is made abundantly clear as a woman who works at the centre flicks through a book of names and tells some of their stories – a 14-year-old girl who asked for a contraceptive injection to prevent pregnancy if she was raped, and a 17-year-old girl raped while two months pregnant. The cinematography is sparse; there is no escaping from these truths.
The film closes with the very real tears of one of the mothers - she wants to provide for her child, but is aware of all that she has risked to do so.
Part 3 – What Remains
In the penultimate film, Silver and Garcia Bernal take a step back from the migrants at the centre and turn instead to the relatives of those who have left, and the stories of those who have been lost along the way…
Roses open the scene; perfect, pink and natural. The voiceover begins before we are shown the face of the woman who is speaking, giving, once again, a sense of absence. She has lost her son who, after having said that he would contact her twelve days after his departure, has never been heard of again. “I like plants,” she says, “they help me forget my worries.”
What remains is a collection of broken families who may never know the fate of their loved ones. Garcia Bernal is shown photos of the murdered migrants and then taken by a 16-year-old boy to a collection of unmarked graves. In this country, it is now the children who are the keepers of the dead. There is no official record of their deaths.
Part 4 – ‘Goal!’
The final film encompasses the political problems behind the continued migration, and the very real risks caused primarily by the imposed illegality of the journey. It tells the story of those who will keep trying no matter what the cost, and the Mexican people determined to help them, even though in doing so they place themselves at risk…
The film opens with a montage of shots - a man in a hospital bed, bandaged, heavily tattooed, and incapacitated by his ordeal, the ‘death trains’ on which crowds of migrants sit, exposed to the weather, and the gangs who make their livings extorting money from these people. It was on one of these trains that the young man sustained his injuries; he was pushed off by a gang member, and has had to have two fingers amputated as a result. There are men in wheelchairs, men being treated for the physical symptoms of sexual abuse; it is only here that the film suggests a sense of defeat.
Olga, a woman who treats the wounded migrants, lifts the mood with her deep respect for their efforts to better their lives, and the priest who ministers to them tells us they say, “God is with us.” Whatever might happen to them on the journey, they believe that this is their right.
The film’s title comes from a scene in which men and boys are watching football. They stand and shout at the goal, it could be any scene from any place, but here it is a cry of hope that life will one day be as normal and safe as the situation suggests.
Finally, Garcia Bernal uses a voiceover, while a train roles on into the dust, the migrants wave, and he tries to explain that this is not a problem that will go away - and that these people cannot continue to be invisible.
The Invisibles is an important collection of films because the voices it gives have so long been repressed and ignored. The heart of their message is that the migrants are real people who have expectations of life very similar to your own. The only difference is the country into which they were born. Silver and Garcia Bernal are due to make a feature length film on the same theme, and I can only imagine that it will be a stunning piece of art, yet a horrific tale of the state’s lack of care for the people who need it most. EM
This is an English-language release.
Every day, throughout the world, large amounts of high-level radioactive waste created by nuclear power plants is placed in interim storages, which are vulnerable to natural disasters, man-made disasters, and to societal changes; constant surveillance, security management and maintenance is required.
In Finland, the world's first permanent nuclear repository - Onkalo - is being hewn out of solid rock - a huge system of underground tunnels that must last at least 100,000 years. Onkalo is a Finnish word for hiding place. It is situated at Olkiluoto in Finland, approximately 300 km northwest of Helsinki, and it is the world's first attempt at a permanent repository. Work on the concept behind the facility commenced in 1970s and the repository is expected to be backfilled and decommissioned in the 2100s – more than a century from now. No person working on the facility today will live to see it completed.
Once the waste has been deposited, and the repository is full, the facility is to be sealed off and never opened again. But how to ensure that? And how is it possible to warn future generations of the deadly waste left behind? How to prevent them from thinking they have found hidden treasure, burial grounds? Which languages and signs will they understand? And if they understand, will they respect the instructions?
While gigantic monster machines dig deeper and deeper into the dark, experts above ground strive to find solutions to this crucially important radioactive waste issue to secure mankind and all species on planet Earth, now and in the near and very distant future.
Captivating, wondrous and extremely frightening, this feature documentary takes viewers on a journey never seen before into the underworld - and into the future.
Film: Into Eternity
Release date: 12th November 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 75 mins
Director: Michael Madsen
Starring: Timo Äikäs, Carl Reinhold Bråkenhjelm, Mikael Jensen, Berit Lundqvist, Wendla Paile
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Dogwoof
Format: DVD
Country: Denmark/Finland/Sweden/Italy
Film: Gaea Girls / Shinjuku Boys
Release date: 25th January 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 159 mins
Director: Kim Longinotto/Jano Williams
Starring: Gaish, Tatsu, Kazuki, Chigusa Nagayo, Meiko Satomura
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Second Run
Format: DVD
Country: UK
This double-bill of documentaries directed by the respected team of Kim Longinotto and Jano Williams offers an intriguing glimpse into the lives of Japanese women who defy conventions of female identity. While Gaea Girls (2000) takes us inside the world of professional female wrestlers, Shinjuku Boys (1995) introduces us to three women who live and work as men.
Opening just before a wrestling bout between head Gaea Girl Chigusa Nagayo and Lioness Asuka, it’s immediately apparent that Gaea Girls is no Memoirs Of A Geisha. There may be a common link in the form of entertainment, but the female wrestlers in Gaea Girls are anything but demure and dainty. A voice proclaims: “We are violent, we are freak out,” and the wrestlers enter the arena to the sound of Republica’s ‘Ready To Go’.
After Nagayo wins the contest, thanks in no small part to her spitting fire into the face of her opponent, things quieten down a little as we are introduced to trainee Gaea Girls at a nondescript training centre. The quiet doesn’t last for long, however, and Nagayo is soon bullying and humiliating her trainees with an ever-increasing intensity that reduces some to tears and causes others to run away. One of the trainees, Takeuchi, eventually makes the grade and is given her first professional bout, but not before a fair bit of blood is spilled.
The atmosphere in Shinjuku Boys could not be more different, but the subject of gender is equally, if not more important in this earlier documentary. Gaish, Kazuki and Tatsu are three female-to-male transsexuals who work as ‘onnabes’ at the swish New Marilyn club in Tokyo, where they meet and entertain female clients.
Individually and together as a group, Gaish, Kazuki and Tatsu speak frankly about their personal histories, and what led them to take on the identity of men who aim to be the perfect companions to the women who seek them out. The issue of sex is discussed with a disarming honesty that is both touching and humorous, and the complications of being an onnabe and maintaining relationships with family members and loved ones are addressed in an equally forthright and engaging manner…
Both documentaries adopt a similarly straightforward approach, but of the two, Shinjuku Boys relies more heavily on interviews with its subjects. We do see the onnabes at work and interacting with their clients in Shinjuku Boys, but, for the most part, it explores why they do what they do, not what they do. In Gaea Girls, on the other hand, brief snatches of interviews are interspersed among extended scenes of training sessions and actual bouts. The fixed nature of the wrestling contests themselves is not directly addressed, but the sometimes brutal footage of the training sequences highlights the fact that being a Gaea Girl is a remarkably tough life that requires incredible determination and resilience.
It could be argued that Gaea Girls could have been benefited from more in-depth interviews with trainees such as Takeuchi or Sato, a young, more conventionally feminine trainee who very quickly realises that she is not cut out for the hardships of being a Gaea Girl, instead of giving most of the interview time to the dominant Nagayo.
In the case of Shinjuku Boys, it would have been interesting to hear more from the women who utilise the services of the onnabes, particularly the women who seem to have fallen in love with them, or would that have been better explored in a separate documentary? It’s difficult to say, and it may actually be a strength of both documentaries that they leave you wanting to know more.
Jano Williams appears to have fallen of the radar after Gaea Girls, but Longinotto has continued to explore the lives of women on the margins of society in acclaimed documentaries such as Pink Saris (2010) and Rough Aunties (2008). She is clearly a dedicated documentary maker who allows her subjects to speak for themselves, and doesn’t feel the need to impose her own personality on her work, unlike so many younger directors who do very much the opposite.
The notion of objectivity in documentaries is undeniably problematic, but Longinotto and Williams’s determination to maintain a distance between themselves and their subjects arguably allows viewers more scope to contemplate their own responses to what is seen on screen. If only for this reason, Gaea Girls / Shinjuku Boys deserves a fresh audience. JG
Film: Last Train Home
Release date: 25th October 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 85 mins
Director: Lixie Fan
Starring: Suqin Chen, Changhua Zhan, Qin Zhang, Yang Zhang
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Dogwoof
Format: DVD
Country: Canada/China/UK
Each New Year, China’s railway stations become teeming, seething compounds of thousands of commuters. Here, they queue for tickets at booths where demand far outstrips supply, or wait in the forlorn hope that the train will turn up on time – if at all. This anxious group are all aching to return to their villages to see the families they left behind as they sought employment in the cities.
Last Train Home focuses on one family caught up in this desperate situation. In the ‘90s, the Zhang family were forced to leave their young children with their grandparents as they left to find work. Eager to improve the prospects of their children, they work hard and live simple lives, sending as much money as possible to the family they left in their rural village. This cash, they hope, will provide the education they were denied in their own youth.
Sadly, their daughter cannot see beyond her perceived abandonment and rebels. Dropping out of school, she decides to earn her own money by becoming a migrant worker, too. It’s a huge blow to her family, and Last Train Home concerns itself with the Zhangs’ attempts to heal the family rifts, and guide their daughter back onto the path they chose for her.
Opening with scenes of workers sewing garments in a crowded factory, we are instantly introduced into the drudgery of life in the Guangzhou. Here, staff work in open-plan conditions producing clothing for the West. It seems that all aspects of life take place within the grey walls of the factory – food is eaten communally and bedrooms are little more than stalls. A montage of images quickly conveys the grimness, which is in direct contrast to the lush greenery of the life Changhua and Suqin left behind in Sichuan province.
In the country, their children, Qin and Yang, live on the family farm with their loving grandmother. They gather corn, eat as a family, and their life seems much happier than that of their parents. Beautifully framed shots of paddy fields with farmers slowly meandering across the screen confirm that the pace of life here is much more sedate.
Following their first arduous journey across the country, Changhua and Suqin are reunited with their children. The expectation is of a joyous coming together, but instead there is a sullen air about the kids. It quickly becomes apparent that gifts of mobile phones don’t cut the mustard, especially with their daughter, Qin. She’s resentful of an approach to parenting which casts her mother and father in the role of providers of money – but not love.
The relationship between the daughter and her parents deteriorates from this point on. Never judgemental, the film allows each character to get their point across, and it’s perfectly possible to sympathise with all parties. One scene in particular illustrates the strange dynamic between the three characters: waiting for a train to take them back to Sichuan, they encounter a heaving station caused by a power cut further up the tracks. In the midst of the crowded chaos, the characters bicker - Qin sniggers at her mother and Changhua attempts (not particularly effectively) to take control of the situation. It sums up the dynamics of their relationship perfectly - all the more dramatic for being set amidst the human debris and emotion of the angry mob.
Lixin Fan’s directorial approach is to offer as little interference as possible in proceedings - and this has really paid dividends. The access he has gained is incredibly personal, and grows more so as the film progresses – it’s clear that the relationship he has built with the family has grown stronger and more trusting over the three year period in which filming took place. This can be seen most clearly in Changhua – initially he is meek, mild and ineffectual. He seems wary of the camera and is usually in the shadow of his more vocal wife. Even during direct addresses to the camera, he is often almost eerily quiet – a man of few words. Yet the most explosive scene of documentary takes place when Qin swears in front of him. He explodes in a violent rage – the first time his self-control has been lost. It’s indicative of the tension which has been boiling within him, but also points to a comfort with the camera which was evidently missing earlier in the piece.
Last Train Home is sedately paced, yet utterly engaging. The neutrality adopted by the director ensures that a complicated situation is allowed to breathe on screen, and this allows the audience to decide where their sympathies lie – if anywhere. It’s a documentary which asks many questions about the role of parents, the way capitalism is impacting on China and the merits of self-sacrifice. Thankfully, Lixin Fan is not patronising enough to try and answer those questions himself. RW
Film: The First Movie
Running time: 76 mins
Director: Mark Cousins
Genre: Documentary
Country: UK/Canada
In October 2010, filmmaker Mark Cousins took his documentary The First Movie on a tour of Picturehouse cinemas in the UK.
As the name might suggest, The First Movie is filmmaker Mark Cousins’ first foray into directing a full-length feature. Having made his name as a critic, writer and presenter, he has struck out into the world of documentary making and production alongside luminaries such as Tilda Swinton, Robert Carlyle and Irvine Welsh. Could his attempt to capture childhood innocence in the Middle East live up to expectation?
The village of Goptapa lies eighty miles from the Iranian border in Iraqi Kurdistan. Here, the adults run their small farms, pick crops and teach in the new village school. The majority of the 700 inhabitants live in mud-constructed buildings around which chickens, geese and cows freely wander. The surrounding countryside features river valleys, pomegranate groves and lush green fields where livestock graze.
It’s a world away from the Iraq we see on the news. There are no soldiers, no armoured vehicles, no artillery shells or explosions. But Goptapa has suffered at the hands of Saddam Hussein’s regime – the government gassed the village in 1988 killing many of the residents.
A whole generation of children have been born into Goptapa since the massacre, and it is here where Cousins focuses his camera. Erecting a makeshift cinema in the village, the power of cinema is described, explored and illustrated by both Cousins and the children themselves as they are bequeathed with high-definition digital cameras, and given the freedom to produce their very own first movies…
Cousins is an utterly charming presence throughout. Although rarely seen in front of the camera, his lyrical voiceover knits together the action wonderfully. Lilting and mellifluous, his gentle Northern Irish accent describes and explains the power of film in his childhood, tying his project to the reality of growing up during the troubles in Belfast. It’s easy to see why he would want to strip away the dramas and the troubles of conflict, focusing instead on the humanity of the place. Indeed, the fact that Goptapa is in Iraq is not even mentioned until the film is seventy minutes old.
One brief montage of clips speaks volumes about the power of both cinema and children’s imaginations: a series of moving images appears on the screen as Cousins speculates as to how they could be interpreted by the kids. Thus, a digger becomes a dinosaur: something prosaic becomes something magical. It’s a distinction which is at the heart of the film. In a similar vein, the production of half a dozen balloons seems emblematic of something bigger or more important – that so many children can derive so much pleasure from something we take for granted is humbling, and provides some wonderfully colourful and joyous scenes.
The cinema which is constructed to show the films might be the greatest theatrical venue of all time. Stitched together from a number of bed sheets and stretched over a frame, the screen is simplicity itself. In the background, vibrant pink and gold cloth flutters in the breeze as plastic chairs are arranged in the ‘auditorium’. It speaks volumes about the power of cinema that the wordless construction of such a simple space can invoke such emotion in an audience. The screenings themselves offer further magic. Having never seen a film before, the excitement of the kids is palpable as they cheer, clap and attempt to grab at images on the screen during performances of ET, The Red Balloon and others.
In the aftermath, a colourful collection of children are lined up against a wall as they are quizzed on the kind of films they’d like to make. It’s almost reassuring that these kids from rural Iraq are as imaginatively puerile and silly as any kids you’d find in any developed country. As they grab their crotches, show off and throw out ideas about dogs eating donkeys, it doesn’t matter a jot where they are from. Like many of the scenes in the film, it’s beautifully shot. The camera lingers just long enough on each subject, moving up and down the line to capture the reactions to what is being said by the attention-grabbers at the forefront of the conversation, and the questions posed are aimed at eliciting honest responses – Cousins manages to leave any pre-conceptions about the kids aside.
What they produce is fantastic. A close-up of a goldfish tank is accompanied by a magical voiceover; a group of girls sing for the camera; a long single take sees a young boy confiding his thoughts in the mud. And for almost the first time, adults are present in Goptapa. The film was made during Ramadan, and with many of the grown-ups fasting, the children almost had the town to themselves. But, with cameras in hand, access was granted to the areas Cousins had failed to get – not least when one amateur filmmaker gets footage of his friends giggling in the back of the mosque as the men of the village pray.
The most moving footage in the film was produced by the children. Static camera shots of long, emotional monologues reveal the horrors which occurred as the 1988 massacre swept through the village. As an elderly lady recalls the events, you cannot help but admire the bravery of both the subject and the camera-operator. The story itself is a difficult one to tell, but as she breaks down, becomes angry and cries, the child with the camera waits, lingers and ekes still more drama from the situation. It would be a powerful scene in the hands of someone infinitely more experienced: perversely, lack of experience makes it more powerful still.
The soundtrack is fantastically judged, adding elegance to the sumptuous images which describe the action. It’s also a good match for the quality of Cousins’ eloquent narrative. The only time this changes is as the children’s films are shown – at this point, Kurdish music becomes an entirely appropriate accompaniment.
Mark Cousins has produced an excellent documentary, which avoids political rhetoric or cheap stunts to make its point. Allowing his subjects to express themselves, verbally and visually, he has given voice to the power of imagination, the resilience of the human spirit, and the educational and exhilarating nature of cinema. His non-judgmental, inclusive style, easy demeanour and technical prowess have ensured that this is a production which engages, informs and stirs in equal measures. A wonderful film. RW
Film: Last Train Home
Release date: 25th October 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 85 mins
Director: Lixie Fan
Starring: Suqin Chen, Changhua Zhan, Qin Zhang, Yang Zhang
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Dogwoof
Format: DVD
Country: Canada/China/UK
Powerful documentary about migrant workers in China, Last Train Home is a moving depiction of a country in transition, struggling to reconcile old traditions with modern cultures.
Last Train Home is the first feature film from Chinese-Canadian director Lixin Fan, and follows the story of the Zhang family from rural Sichuan. Like the rest of the 130 million (and growing) other migrant workers in China, both mother and father work in Guangzhou, the third largest city in China, leaving behind their two children in the care of their elderly grandparents. The only real opportunity they have to see their children is during the annual public holiday at Chinese New Year, and we follow the couple on their cross-country journey, alongside the billions of other commuters at this time of year.
Although this documentary focuses on the phenomenon of Chunyun (the month long travel period around New Year), it uses the journey simply as a way in to investigate this new emerging migrant culture. For the Zhang family, and many others, the choice to work away from home is a bitter and painful decision, forcing themselves to leave their children in order to financially support them.
The irony in the separation between parent and offspring is that when the family is at last reunited, the parents can only anxiously enquire about report cards, lecturing their children to study harder at school. There is too much at stake here; how can the parents relax when everything they have sacrificed and worked for is to create a better future for their children? Yet for the children, it is this very burden, the knowledge that their parents must abandon them for their own benefit that drives a wedge between their relationships.
This problematic situation is further exasperated when the eldest sister, Qin, drops out of school in order follow in her parents’ footsteps and work in a factory in Guangzhou. The parents’ anger and despair is obvious. Why did they risk everything just so their daughter could end up with the same fate as themselves? It seems that financial support on its own is not enough to ensure that their children will have a better quality of life…
Some of the most striking moments in the film are the chaotic train station scenes, as the Zhangs embark on their journey home. Aerial shots of the endless throngs of people, pushing and queuing for days outside the station, convey the magnitude and logistical nightmare of a country trying to facilitate this mass migration. Hysterical women are pulled out from the crowds, clutching their belongings and screaming for their lost husbands and siblings. On-board the crowded train, migrant workers swap stories of their hardships in the city, all of them working for similar factories that export cheap goods to the West.
It is during these scenes that the reason why these people choose to live such gruelling lives is revealed. In a country of 1.3 billion people and no welfare system, the ability to spend time with your family is a luxury that many simply cannot afford to have. Having been deprived of the means to earn a living for so many decades, rural people are now capitalising on whatever opportunities they can find, even at the sake of their family. These people are all hungry for a slice of the wealth they have been denied for so long, because they know that there is simply not enough to go around.
It is a situation that is very much epitomised by the huge mobs of people at the train station. Although the commuters are all aware of the station guards’ pleas to stop pushing, every single individual knows they must shove their hardest to get to the front of the queue, because if they don’t, they will simply be left behind. In a country as big as China, there will never be enough spaces on trains or any other mode transport, never enough jobs to go around or places in schools for everyone. It is the most extreme example of survival of the fittest.
As we see the Zhangs emerge in a sea of faces at the station, we wonder what other personal stories of suffering and hardship do each of these millions of migrants have. How many other Qins are out there, and how many families are also struggling to piece back together their fragmented lives in this fast changing country? Although migration is a growing trend in many other countries around the world, China’s massive population means that everything is amplified, accelerated and intensified so many times over.
Last Train Home is a moving documentary that uses the personal and intimate story of one family in order to embody the countless experiences of the hundreds of millions of other migrant families in China. KW
What is anti-Semitism today, two generations after the Holocaust? In his continuing exploration of modern Israeli life, director Yoav Shamir (Checkpoint, 5 Days, Flipping Out) travels the world in search of the most modern manifestations of the “oldest hatred", and comes up with some startling answers.
In this irreverent quest, he follows American Jewish leaders to the capitals of Europe, as they warn government officials of the growing threat of anti-Semitism, and he tacks on to a class of Israeli high school students on a pilgrimage to Auschwitz.
The film questions our perceptions and terminology when an event proclaimed by some as anti-Semitic is described by others as legitimate criticism of Israel’s government policies. The film walks along the boundary between anti-Zionism, rejecting the notion of a Jewish State, and anti-Semitism, rejecting Jews. Is the former being used to excuse the latter? And is there a difference between today’s anti-Semitism and plain old racism that is affecting all minorities?
Film: Defamation
Release date: 25th October 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 91 mins
Director: Yoav Shamir
Starring: Uri Avneri, Norman Finkelstein, Abraham Foxman, John Mearsheimer
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Dogwoof
Format: DVD
Country: Israel
DVD Special Features:
•
Director’s statement
•
Stills gallery
In 1993, Anselm Kiefer left Buchen, Germany for La Ribaute, a derelict silk factory near Barjac. From 2000 he began constructing a series of elaborate installations there.
Like a strange, sprawling village, La Ribaute extends over 35 hectares and is composed of old industrial buildings and working studios that link to a network of underground tunnels dug out by Kiefer, which run underneath pavilions built to house paintings and installations.
An underground pool at the cul-de-sac of a tubular iron tunnel is embedded within a crypt which backs onto to a 20m tiered concrete amphitheatre. There are caves and woods, an open landscape of concrete towers – assembled like so many card houses – and secluded, private spaces. Traversing this landscape, the film immerses the audience in the total world and creative process of one of today’s most significant and inventive artists.
Shot in cinemascope, the film constructs visual set pieces alongside observational footage to capture both the dramatic resonance of Kiefer's art and the intimate process of creation. This polarity – in terms of scale, sensibility and time – animates the film, creating a multi-layered narrative through which to navigate the complex spaces of La Ribaute. Here creation and destruction are interdependent; the film enters into direct contact with the raw materials Kiefer employs to build his paintings and sculptures - lead, concrete, ash, acid, earth, glass and gold.
Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow gives privileged access to Kiefer’s last days at La Ribotte.
Film: Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow
Release date: 15th October 2010
Certificate: U
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Sophie Fiennes
Starring: Anselm Kiefer, Klaus Dermutz
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: Cinema
Country: France/Netherlands/UK
Film: Sons Of Cuba
Release date: 20th September 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 88 mins
Director: Andrew Lang
Starring: Yosvani Bonachea, Cristian Martinez, Santos Urguelles
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Mr Bongo
Format: DVD
Country: UK
Sons Of Cuba documents the pupils of The Havana Boxing School as they are subjected to a physically demanding training regime. Despite having an average age of 8, the pupils are pushed to their very limits - told that victory in the sport is not just a matter of personal pride but of national duty.
Cuba, 2006 and Fidel Castro has just taken ill. Paranoia begins to spread that the Americans might try and attack while their beloved leader is incapacitated.
As their country stands on a razor’s edge, a group of young boys are being indoctrinated into athletic acts of violence. The boys are told that failing is not an option, and that far from being merely a sport, boxing is Cuba’s opportunity to show that their country is the best, and that the revolution was an unmitigated triumph.
While the film focuses on a larger group of boys, our main protagonists are Cristian, a boxing prodigy, Santos, a boy whose passion for pastries stands in the way of his boxing success, and Junior, lovingly referred to as Dalmatian because of the bald spots found on his scalp.
As the day of the Under-12’s championship approaches, the training becomes more extreme, the punishments more harsh, and it soon becomes apparent that the sport, far from being a simple matter of national pride, is actually becoming detrimental to the stability of the children involved…
Sons Of Cuba ignores the emotional bombast and political posturing of so many modern documentaries. The film’s resistance to caricature and moral absolutism allows us to emotionally engage in all the characters involved. It is this skill that elevates Sons Of Cuba from other films of its ilk, leading to a movie that has genuinely aimed for a balanced account of events, allowing for opinion; both political and emotional to form at the viewer’s digression. That’s not to say that what is shown is vacant - quite the contrary. Its ability to invoke an open-ended discussion is derived from just how rich the images are. We hate seeing these children being reduced to tears by their environment, but we are allowed no villain to pin the blame on. The coach is shown as a loving and gentle man, and Castro himself is a ghost, appearing as an image on the wall, a reflection on TV screen - a holy icon. With no scapegoat in sight, we are forced to concentrate on the matter at hand, which is the children, and the relationships that they form.
This refreshingly humanist approach is aided by Andrew Lang’s beautiful images. Storms forming over Cuba, ripples in the puddles outside, and close-ups of the boys crying all invoke emotional responses as multi-layered as the political issues they explore. Images of nature, water in particular, mix the threatening (the storm clouds) with the fragile (the tears), which culminates in the ring - little children as innocent and confused as any children being forced to unleash torrents of violence and choreographed abuse (these visuals allow us to see the politics as being almost inconsequential).
While Castro and the revolution are imprinted in every part of their culture it has become so second nature that it is given no great importance. The real tragedy here is the growing link between innocence and responsibility. These are boys that are being made to take on the reasonability of men, which is not just a Cuban problem, but a worldwide one. When Santos lies cuddling into his grandmother, it is a visual reminder that these people are just children, and it is to our shame that their youth is easily forgotten in the faux-maturity they have been forced to exhibit.
But Sons Of Cuba is by no means a tear-jerker. The images that stay with you after the film’s end are images of warmth. The boys comforting each other, mother’s crying with pride. Here we have a documentary that is all the more important for focusing not on a single ideological vantage point, but on the human experience.
A beautifully shot and well considered documentary that is as emotionally engaging as it is informative. Andrew Lang’s film exhibits a fragile beauty that is never allowed to indulge in the sentimental. A filmic experience not easily forgotten. AC
Film: Videocracy
Release date: 27th September 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 90 mins
Director: Erik Gandini
Starring: Silvio Berlusconi, Flavio Briatore, Fabio Calvi, Rick Canelli, Fabrizio Corona
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Dogwoof
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden/Denmark/UK/Finland
Italian president Silvio Berlusconi has built a media empire that allows him to control the output of ninety percent of the country’stelevision. However, instead of focusing on the man himself, Videocracy concentrates on the culture that his propagandist, sexually exploitative enterprise has created.
We follow the lives of people who have been seemingly corrupted by this fantasmatic world. There is obsessive TV fan Ricky Canelil, who openly admits that his desire to be on television has taken over his life, as well as Lele Mora, one of Italy’s top agents, and a man happy to admit that he is a ‘fan’ of fascist ideology. The film then begins to concentrate on the paparazzi ‘Robin Hood’, Fabrizi Corona, a man who insists that his snapping of celebrity hi-jinks is a form of punk rebellion.
But behind these men is the ever present Veline’s, the seemingly logical conclusion of female objectification. A group of women who are hired to stroll around TV studio’s in revealing outfits and are directly prohibited from speaking while on air…
During the opening of Gandini’s documentary it is genuinely difficult to tell if what we are watching is real or an elaborate prank. The characters seem so delusional; the sexism so pronounced that it is all too easy to assume that they are simply comedic caricature. To complicate further, Gandini, like Herzog in Grizzly Man, mixes found-footage with intricately staged, and impeccably detailed mise-en-scene, which does nothing but add to the surreal nature of what is being described. When Gandini’s film-crew are allowed into Berlusconi’s illustrious TV studios, the film becomes a carnival of disorientating angles, hideously bright colours and awkward framing. This otherworldliness is sharply contrasted with our chosen protagonists, who struggle to live in reality, when television offers them such tantalising perfection.
The difficulty is that over time the ‘un-reality’ of the situation becomes distancing. While the footage shot by Gandini is artfully constructed, this very construction distances the audience further from a story which is already hard to believe. This problem is not helped by a musical score that trades in sentimentalised bombast, or an editing style that seems as exploitative as any of Berlusconi’s out-put. Canelil’s dream of being a TV star is openly mocked, Mora comes across as being monstrous, and Berlusconi is portrayed as being nothing short of demonic. This extracts any humanity from the film, and soon it becomes a rather mechanical exercise in political posturing, and one that comes across as not just looking down on its subjects, but actively sneering at them.
It is in the portrayal of the Veline’s that the film is most successful. A camera stands completely still as hundreds of women audition, willing participants in their own objectification. The auditions quickly become a ritualistic form of sexual humiliation, the women grinding their hips directly towards the camera, and hence the audience. The image is mirrored when Fabrizi Corona stands completely naked in a shower while explaining, in voiceover, that to be famous you must be willing to become completely exposed. It is in moments like these, when the role of the audience is brought into question, that the film transcends it’s rather cold and judgemental filmic style, but these moments are few and far between.
What begins as a darkly comedic look at the camp nightmare of Italian television becomes something all the more nihilist. It portrays a country of delusional morons, run by an institutional evil, where women are condemned to objectification, and the men either work for the media or are on the outside looking in.
An interesting documentary that is marred by a simplistic and overtly judgemental morality. Gandini’s filmic style, while undeniable artful, is simply too distancing, a problem furthered by an over-the-top score and unlikeable protagonists. AC
Film: Budrus
Release date: 24th September 2010
Certificate: PG
Running time: 78 mins
Director: Julia Bacha
Starring: N/a
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Dogwoof
Format: Cinema
Country: Israel/Occupied Palestinian Territory/USA
The tagline which accompanies this award-winning documentary states that between Israel and Palestine you have “the most divided people on earth,” but whilst governments and certain groups are content for violence and animosity to continue breeding between their countries, Julia Bacha’s film shows that it’s the everyman that is ultimately affected – an everyman who can unite with other nationalities, and show the sort of leadership skills his country has been severely lacking for so long.
Budrus is a small village of 1500 people in Occupied Palestine Territory; an agricultural village which cultivates olives.
When the Israeli government decided to build a Separation Barrier inside Palestine in response to suicide bombings, villages like Budrus were being cut off from hundreds of acres of their land (as one Israeli army captain interviewed says, “less fortunate than the death of an Israeli civilian”).
As CAT diggers begin uprooting trees in Budrus, Ayed Morrar brings together the village’s communities (of both Fatah and Hamas members) who are incensed by the confiscation of 300 acres of their land, the uprooting of 3,000 olive trees, and the impact on their cemetery. These villagers form an alliance to stop Israel destroying land which is “not their own” through peaceful/non-violent demonstrations.
But with operations being delayed, Israel becomes aggravated, sending in unsympathetic and trigger itchy border police, and declaring the village a closed military zone. Of course, Ayed and his comrades will not be deterred, creating strategic operations and gaining international support, including citizens from the neighbouring country they’ve been at loggerheads with for so long.
However, with government figures being left red-faced on Israeli TV by the disruptions caused by a small, poor village in Budrus, this fallout is soon escalating out of control…
In many ways, the biggest fault you could pick with this documentary is ultimately its great success, and what makes it such a riveting watch. The film takes a longstanding and complicated conflict, and largely ignores it to milk as much drama and therefore entertainment out of one by-product of two countries at war. It’s also unarguably biased, less about offering a balanced account of the issues that are affecting the two neighbouring countries, or offering any historical context – the reasoning behind this operation, which is ultimately many heinous and inhumane crimes against Israeli civilians, which cannot be acceptable in any circumstance - but creating a soap opera of sorts where the good and the bad guys are painted with very broad brush strokes.
It is, of course, not to say this issue was not vitally important to the communities affected, and wholly unfair, and with the Israeli’s playing up to the part as villains of the piece, both in the violent actions which are caught on film, and the interviews given to protagonists involved in the incidents captured at a later date (border police officer Yasmine is particularly cold and unrepentant), you are soon engaged with the villagers, and empathetic to their plight – slanted, of course, but enlightening still that for all the news we receive of suicide bombers, that this is not the mindset of a country on the whole.
As is the case throughout the world, many communities and religions are pillared for the actions of a small group of extremists, and so the filmmakers cleverly allow us to get close to the Morrar family, in particular, and gain a real sense of community, which they share with people who are equally downtrodden, but still show great love and respect for one another, and with no motivations to upset the status quo or harm others. Shockingly content in many ways, and although the Israeli’s are the bad guys we see on screen, the Palestinian government provoke even more anger, given little mention or screen time, but seemingly weak and unfitting to lead a people who deserve better, and at the very least support.
With the bigger picture largely forgotten, and our attachment to such likeable characters – who humour with deadpan comments such as “not normal if no-one is injured” - momentum builds throughout the documentary, as the women (led by Ayed’s 15-year-old daughter, Iltezam, who has a “duty to perform”) become empowered, minor victories, which are cleverly thought out, and marches/rallies lift as dramatically as we are sent crashing down to mourn olive trees, their livelihoods, being uprooted without care. The voice of a man, clearly cracking as the emotion gets to him is heartbreaking (the filmmakers don’t miss a trick, adding gentle piano to heighten the viewer’s sensations when the opportunities arise), the camera panning across a now barren land, and a child wandering a dusty street in their mother’s shoes.
As tensions increase, the military/police become progressively more heavy-handed, and having been influenced to such an extent by the filmmakers, it becomes the sort of edge of your seat fare that big-budget blockbusters seem incapable of delivering any more. As shots fire, and the anxiety and panic is caught on camera, the cries of “oh my god” are simply chilling. But it’s running this whole gamut of emotions that ensures you appreciate the ultimate ‘feel good’.
Undeniably manipulative, and, without a better grip on the history, it’s an imbalanced piece of documentary making, but it’s probably a story that needed to be told, and given the emotional charge that runs throughout, it’s absorbing stuff. DH
Film: Valentino: The Last Emperor
Release date: 6th September 2010
Certificate: 12
Running time: 123 mins
Director: Matt Tyrnauer
Starring: Valentino Garavani, Giancarlo Giammetti, Nati Abascal, Giorgio Armani, Jeannie Becker
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: USA
Matt Tyrnauer invites us to delve behind the seemingly superficial world of fashion and witness, or lament, what was to become the final working year in the life of a style icon.
Single-minded, passionate, pleasant, caring, grumpy, awkward, disillusioned and talented are just a small number of facets on display in this fly on the wall documentary surrounding the lead up to the 75-year-old leathery skinned designer’s forty-five year anniversary as a leading player and brand name in the fashion industry.
Through Matt Tyrnauers seemingly limitless access to Valentino, as well as his life partner Giancarlo Giammetti, we learn how the fashion industry has evolved throughout his lifetime, and how the financial aspects of the business have been virtually swept from beneath his feet. We are allowed access to not only his working environment, studios, runways and shows full of celebrity guests (including the likes of Joan Collins, Gwyneth Paltrow and Liz Hurley), but also his various homes, plus his private jet and elaborate yacht.
We watch him declare his love for crafted style while showing distain for over indulgence and tackiness, before sincerely stating that what women want most in life is to be beautiful. He clearly believes every word he says but others, from a more grounded background, may find some, if not all of his distorted views hard to swallow; especially as the further we are permitted to explore his overtly decadent lifestyle, the further removed from our normal reality he seems to be. Yet this is part of the fun, it can be enjoyable in small doses to watch the mega rich indulge their little idiosyncrasies - for example, Valentino having a special settee on his private jet for his five pug, ironically quite ugly dogs to lounge...
Tyrnauer obviously admires Valentino, his reverence drips from every pore of this well shot documentary, yet despite this, and admirably so, he is also willing to show the designer’s flaws, his humanity and vulnerable side. In fact, this is the film’s strongest aspect - a brave decision, as Valentino could have so easily vetoed the recordings of his bad-tempered, almost childish remarks, and perhaps even limited the camera’s access to areas and meetings that display his less attractive traits. Others too seem open to scrutiny - Giammetti is so laid-back in front of the camera, at points, that he is in danger of toppling over, whilst bad-tempered head seamstress Antoinetta de Angelis never disguises her true feelings when the crew pay her any attention. Yes, they are all passionate, they care about their craft and their tantrums are, for the most part, semi calculated outbursts to enhance the Valentino name and that is, in essence, what has been so beautifully captured by a skilled documentary maker obviously relishing in his task.
On the negative side, the director, as is unfortunately too often the case in recent documentaries, takes it for granted that his audience will have an extensive knowledgeable background of the subject matter on display. Point in case is when the camera enters an enormous room with high walls covered in literally hundreds of dresses designed by Valentino, stretching back to his earliest days. This is our subject’s life, his history and a guide to, not only how fashion has changed over the last four decades, but more so it is a visual demonstration of how he has influenced that very change. Yet, bizarrely, Tyrnauer merely skips over this opportunity with only a few sweeping camera moves and the briefest of narrative. Sadly, a waste of a potentially scene stealing opportunity, and a reinforcement of an attitude rife in the fashion world that the so called rich/elite ‘know’ and we, the underclass, do not ‘need’ to know. That said, there is still plenty to enjoy from merely observing the various, often self-important characters go about their duties, and, in reality, without a working or fan based understanding of this privileged world, although helpful, does little to dilute the overall enjoyment of the piece.
Valentino is an insightful, charming, interesting and occasionally informative documentary structured around one of the most passionate and influential fashion icons of recent times. MG
