Women Filmmakers’ Wednesday

Happy New Year!

I used to put up more film reviews over on this site, but now most of that is over on Letterboxd, so my blog is currently limping by with its weekly Criterion Sunday posts. This is hardly a huge amount of content to thrill my regular readers (hello, are there any?) and it also misrepresents my filmic interests, given that the Criterion Collection has been often criticised in the past (and not entirely unfairly) for its focus on a certain strand of largely Eurocentric arthouse filmmaking, driven by prominent male auteurs (Bergman, Fellini, Fassbinder: the usual suspects), and neglecting even major non-Western film-producing cultures (aside, arguably, from Japan). In fact, the number of films directed by women which are featured in their collection has always been very low, even compared to the number of directors working in the industry, though it appears they are making efforts to correct this somewhat (there have been recent releases of films by Barbara Loden, Elaine May, Euzhan Palcy and Susan Seidelman, amongst others), but it will take, er, decades for that to filter through here given my one-a-week posting schedule…

So, I thought it would be good to start a new regular strand to focus on some filmmakers whose work I’ve enjoyed or found interesting, who aren’t featured often enough in the usual lists. It is almost certain this year that my Letterboxd list of every feature film I’ve seen directed by a woman will pass 1000 entries, and yet too often I’ve barely read anything about some of these directors. Even a cursory internet search for ‘films by women’ tends to bring up the same names all the time (Ava DuVernay, Jane Campion, Sofia Coppola), which doesn’t represent nearly enough of the really great work that women filmmakers have been putting out in the last decade or two, not to mention historically (I have yet to really get stuck into Kino Lorber’s recent “Pioneers: First Women Filmmakers” box set, but it’s just one of a number of such releases recently, and looks likely to help change some of the conversation around film history and how it’s understood and taught).

I’m quite sure plenty of people will be familiar with a lot of the names in my series — anyone who has made an effort to keep up with the most interesting world cinema — but, as with my Films by Women page (a list that I try to keep updated regularly), I just wanted to add a little bit, however amateurishly, to the writing about the work of all these creators. I also hope it will be a spur to my own watching habits, as many of these women’s films can sometimes be quite hard to see.

(I shall update this post each week as I add new directors, and link it from my Films by Women page.)

Featured Directors:
* Lynne Ramsay
* Lina Rodriguez

Advertisements

My Favourite Films of 2018

2018 is now over, and there was lots about politics and lots of bad stuff happening in the world, but I was mostly in a cinema it seems. Compared to my 2017 list, I saw 94 more films in a cinema (237 compared to 143), though by percentage that’s just 46% of all the films I saw (compared to 42% last year). Because, thanks to my resolution to ‘watch a film that’s new to me every day’ (even if sometimes that was a short film), I ended up seeing 519 films longer than half an hour in length (that’s my cut-off for a short film).

After last year’s high of achieving 50:50 parity on films directed by women and films directed by people of colour, I’ve slipped a little on that (although I always expected to do that). I did see more films directed by women and PoC than ever before, but given how many I saw in total, the percentages are a little less impressive. I saw 202 films directed (or co-directed) by women, which represents 39% of the films I saw in 2018, while I watched 230 films directed by people of colour (a rather more impressive 44% of all the films I saw). Therefore white male directors were at 33% of the total, worse than last year, but still favourable compared to all my previous years of film-watching.

Given all that, if I must have a resolution for 2019, it’s probably going to be “watch fewer films”, maybe one new film per day on average (so no more than 365!), and probably try and get more diverse in terms of countries — though that said, I managed 270 non-English language films vs 249 in the English language in 2018.

As with every year there are multiple ‘best of’ lists that I could do. I have one on Letterboxd which ranks my top 25 of films that were actually released in the UK in 2018, so it includes films that were on my 2017 list here. I’ve also got a list of all the 2018 films I’ve seen, which are the ones with a 2018 production date, and that list will keep changing and growing.

Therefore, the list below is my favourite new films that I saw in 2017, including ones that don’t have a UK release yet. There are some that show up on some critics’ lists that I haven’t seen yet, so I will continue to look forward to some interesting 2018 films like the Claire Denis’ sci-fi film High Life or the skateboarding documentary Minding the Gap, amongst many others. Indeed, I think 2018 has been so strong for cinema that I’m doing a top 35, and even that omits some films I really enjoyed like The Old Man and the Gun, Ash Is Purest White, Dumplin’, Lady Bird, A Star Is Born, Yours in Sisterhood and many, many others.

35 To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before


One of the sweetest of romance films, which went direct to Netflix, and made quite a splash. Part of a renaissance of Asian-American representation in US cinema, and one worth cherishing. [Released direct to VoD]

34 Shirkers


Fascinating documentary excavation into one woman’s teenage years making films, and how her dreams got swindled by a strange outsider, a man whose existence she digs into as the film progresses.

33 A Simple Favor (aka A Simple Favour)


It got a lot of negative critical write-ups, but this is simply one of the most fun films of the year, a genre-warping exercise in style and wonder, with a chameleonic central performance from Blake Lively.

32 Las herederas (The Heiresses)


Another beautiful Latin American film about class, a familiar topic now in some of my favourite films, this one dealing with two older women, one of whom is jailed leaving the other to fend for herself.

31 Shakedown


A trip through queer feminist strip club sub-culture in LA, a fantastic documentary about identities outside the mainstream, shot over many years, a sort of time capsule into a strange alternate past.

30 Netemo Sametemo (Asako I & II)


Two men look alike and that’s the premise for this Japanese drama about love and commitment. [Festival screening; no UK release date yet]

29 Beoning (Burning)


A solid Korean drama about, well, I guess it’s about wanting to fit in, and not really being part of an in-crowd, with Steven Yeun fantastic as the seemingly perfect nouveau riche playboy. [Festival screening; scheduled for February 2019 release in UK]

28 Miriam miente (Miriam Lies)


I enjoy festivals for the random films they throw up. This is a beautiful story about a young woman approaching her Quinceanera in the Dominican Republic, and specifically deals with race and class amongst the ruling elites there. [Festival screening; no UK release date yet]

27 Îmi este indiferent dacă în istorie vom intra ca barbari (I Do Not Care If We Go Down in History as Barbarians)


A film that challenges and confronts its audience but not in a cheap Haneke way, but in a very carefully thought-through unpacking of troubling currents in Romanian World War II history. [Festival screening; no UK release date yet]

26 Zimna wojna (Cold War)


You can’t deny Pawel Pawlikowski’s latest film is beautiful. It’s a little slender, and I didn’t buy into the love story at its heart, but it’s gorgeous.

25 Marlina Si Pembunuh Dalam Empat Babak (Marlina the Murderer in Four Acts, 2017)


A sort-of-western movie set in Indonesia about a woman taking her revenge. I love the style, slow takes, with a slow-burning intensity.

24 A Fábrica de Nada (The Nothing Factory, 2017)


It’s almost three hours, but it sustains so many ideas, about class and politics, about working under capitalism, about avoiding exploitation. And then there’s a little musical sequence.

23 Dreamaway


Another festival surprise, this one a sort-of-documentary about young Egyptians working at a flashy resort complex, which both deals with their daily lives but also some of their hopes and expectations from life. [Festival screening; no UK release date yet]

22 Si Ling Hun (Dead Souls)


Every list has to have an eight hour Chinese film which bears comparisons with Shoah for its painstaking research into survivors of the re-education camps in late-1950s China, which also visits the sites and reveals a dark history that’s not often discussed.

21 Chemi Bednieri Ojakhi (My Happy Family, 2017)


This may have been put on Netflix technically in 2017, but things are all rather fluid in the VoD world, and I saw it in early 2018. A big family melodrama set in a Georgian home, this wouldn’t usually be my kind of thing, but it’s done very well. [Released direct to VoD]

20 Columbus (2017)


If you have to see one drama played out against a background of modernist architecture, then make it this one.

19 The Favourite


A typical Yorgos Lanthimos provocation, but this time it’s to the staid ideas of the period costume drama, a heritage drama about the royal family that neatly gender reverses the usual expectations, so the men are all foppish in wigs and makeup while the women strut around, shoot stuff and control the court.

18 Princess Cyd (2017)


A likeable suburban tale of a young woman in Chicago with the kind of fully-realised characters that made me happy to spend time with them. [Released direct to VoD]

17 Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse


I could probably have ranked this higher, if it weren’t for its general feeling of constant movement and action. It actually had a lot to say about being a young Afro-Latino kid in NYC, quite aside from the radioactive spiders, and the multiverses looping in on themselves in increasingly complicated ways.

16 Skate Kitchen


The empathetic depiction of ordinary people in otherwise familiar locations is sort of a theme of my favourite films, and this one is about skateboarding teens in NYC. It clearly loves its subjects, and it skirts a line between documentary and fiction narrative very competently. I just loved being around the characters.

15 Widows


It took me two screenings to properly appreciate what Steve McQueen was doing here, a genre-bound story of a heist that focuses more on the ways in which its leading ladies have been broken and are trying to pull themselves together, both individually and together, all of which just happens to play out over a heist plot.

14 Support the Girls


The setting of a Hooters-like Texan restaurant may not be the most enticing, but this is a film about alternative versions of family in a way almost as palpable as Hirokazu Koreeda’s Shoplifters — about what feels like a real lived American experience of work that you don’t often see on screen. Also, it’s warm and lovely. [Festival screening; no UK release date yet]

13 La camarista (The Chambermaid)


It’s almost so minimal in its form that I didn’t initially pick up on this one, but over the course of the film it worked its charm on me, depicting the life of a young native-born woman working in a hotel in a way that worked a lot better for me than the current critical darling Roma (although that was of course about plenty of other stuff besides). [Festival screening; no UK release date yet]

12 Private Life


A small-scale family drama about a couple trying to have a baby as they enter their 40s, and it went straight to Netflix, but it has some excellent acting all round. [Released directed to VoD]

11 Sorry to Bother You


The year’s big satire on corporate capitalist America, on racial double-consciousness, the memeification of culture, and a bunch of other stuff besides. It has a strong pro-union organising message, and even if Tessa Thompson’s artist character could be a little shallow, the film itself had plenty of ideas, maybe too many.

10 Hale County This Morning, This Evening


A gorgeous lyrical poetic film about Black life in the southern US, which avoids the usual topics in favour of a sort of heightened banality of everyday life. [Preview screening; scheduled for Jan 2019 release in UK]

9 The Miseducation of Cameron Post


I don’t think Desiree Akhavan’s second film after Appropriate Behavior was really given the same reception, but I thought it was a really lovely story. It didn’t do the big loud stuff, but instead was a small-scale drama which had empathy to spare for everyone.

8 Tehran: City of Love


This was a film I saw at the London Film Festival, and it was certainly a surprise. Formally reminiscent of those multiple-strand storylines of 90s cinema, but with a direct, slightly heightened visual style. [Festival screening; no UK release date yet]

7 Manbiki Kazoku (Shoplifters)


At this point, nobody should be surprised at the humanity Hirokazu Koreeda finds in his unusual family groupings, and plenty of his recents films (Our Little Sister and Like Father, Like Son most recently) have been near the top of my end of year best of lists.

6 Western (2017)


It shares certain qualities with other films on my list, in being a story of people living out on the margins of society, refracted through one middle-aged man who feels set apart from his blokeish construction-worker colleagues.

5 Phantom Thread (2017)


It was on a lot of ‘best of’ lists last year, but got its UK release in 2018, and I was taken by its story of the fragile male artistic ego, though I never managed to motivate myself to go back and see it a second time. However, it’s fair to say that Paul Thomas Anderson is on a roll of good films since he achieved his best form (and yes I know he’s had plenty of critically-acclaimed films before that, but I didn’t like them) in Inherent Vice.

4 Leave No Trace


This is the kind of film I love, a story about ordinary people that takes familiar locations (Portland Oregon in this case) and just stretches them that little bit into the unusual. The same director did Winter’s Bone at the start of the decade, and there’s a familiar sense of lives lived outside the mainstream, but here the filmmaking is just that much more sustained.

3 Tarde para morir joven (Too Late to Die Young)


It’s a coming of age story — both of a group of people in early-90s Chile, but also of the country itself in a way — but it has a beautiful simplicity, a fluid and expressive camera, and a directness of vision that is matched by the excellent acting. [Festival screening; scheduled for May 2019 release in UK]

2 Black Panther


Sure, it’s a blockbuster, but I think it’s possibly the smartest one to come out this year, though the Into the Spider-Verse animation gives it some competition in the superhero stakes, another film about fantastic people which also intersects with real lived identities, and critiques a history of colonialist attitudes.

1 Madeline’s Madeline


I loved Josephine Decker’s previous films, so I was predisposed to liking this film, only helped by taking time off a holiday in LA to track it down in a cinema. Therefore, I wonder if rewatching it would give me the same thrill, because the filmmaking style is very different from the film it ranks above, being far more impressionistic and fluid, as it’s about the transference of power between members of an acting troupe in NYC, working as much on a psychological level as on a straightforward plot-driven one. [Festival screening; seen in US; no UK release date yet]

December 2018 Film Roundup

Because really what I need to post is my ‘best of 2018’ lists, I just need to get this out of the way first. Lots of good films come out around the end of the year, and I watched a few more directed by women than in November, but it’s still pretty heavily dominated by the traditional filmic voices. (As ever, daily write-ups are at Letterboxd.)

Top 5 New Films (on their first release in the UK)


Manbiki Kazoku (Shoplifters, 2018, dir. Hirokazu Koreeda)
Hale County This Morning, This Evening (2018, dir. RaMell Ross)
Private Life (2018, dir. Tamara Jenkins)
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018, dir. Bob Persichetti/Peter Ramsey/Rodney Rothman)
The Favourite (2018, dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

All but one of these I saw in the cinema, and these are all easily contenders for my top 10 of the year, so it’s been a strong crop. The documentary (Hale County) isn’t officially out in the UK until mid-January, but it’s a lyrical ode to southern US Black lives in a way that doesn’t focus on the usual tropes, but just allows them to have ordinary lives in a rather beautiful, elliptical way. The others are all fairly well written-up by now, but I will just note that Private Life was a Netflix-only release, though it probably should have had some cinema screenings, because it features some excellent performances in a story about a couple trying to have a baby via IVF and other means, with an undertow of sad desperation (pretty sure this is required for any film starring Paul Giamatti), but not wallowing in that.

Top 10 Old Films (but new to me)


Sanxia Haoren (Still Life, 2006, dir. Jia Zhangke)
Suspiria (1977, dir. Dario Argento)
Hellzapoppin’ (1941, dir. H.C. Potter)
Karnavalnaya noch (Carnival Night, 1956, dir. Eldar Ryazanov)
Possession (1981, dir. Andrzej Zulawski)
The Clock [excerpt] (2010, dir. Christian Marclay)
Last Resort (2000, dir. Pawel Pawlikowski)
Le Marin masqué (2011, dir. Sophie Letourneur)
Bridget Jones’s Baby (2016, dir. Sharon Maguire)
La Bataille de Solférino (Age of Panic, 2013, dir. Justine Triet)

Only one of these I saw in a proper cinema — the Soviet festive satire Carnival Night, which was a real surprise, but very much in a tradition of Soviet-era comedies — but I should note that The Clock was the most comfortable cinematic viewing experience of the year. It’s a 24-hour long compilation of film clips in which the time is shown, edited to be accurate to the actual time, and the Tate Modern (where it’s being screened now) is set up with some very comfortable sofas. I wish more UK cinemas had plush, comfortable chairs like this. Anyway, I stuck around for 90 minutes of it, and would have happily watched many hours more.

The rest are divided between viewings on Mubi (the original version of Suspiria is awash with colours and hysteria; Hellzapoppin’ is just frantic, non-stop carnivalesque madcap nonsense, but very engaging all the same; and the two French films down the end there were both ones of French Mubi while I was there on holiday, and both show strong women directorial talent, and in particular I’d love to see more by Sophie Letourneur, a name previously unknown to me), one on Netflix (the surprisingly pretty good Bridget Jones’s Baby which I honestly did not expect to like at all), and the rest being DVDs I had kicking around, meaning to watch. The Criterion Sunday club went into abeyance in December, but I will need to get back on track before too long, so some more of those titles may start to filter through in 2019.

November 2018 Film Roundup

Another month (a week or so into it anyway)! And I’ve been watching plenty since October’s rundown, trying to catch up on some classics, though disappointingly too many of the films I saw this month were directed by men. Still there’s some interesting stuff I think. (As ever, daily write-ups are at Letterboxd.)

Top 5 New Films (on their first release in the UK)


Widows (2018, dir. Steve McQueen)
Time for Ilhan (2018, dir. Norah Shapiro)
Roma (2018, dir. Alfonso Cuarón)
Black Mother (2018, dir. Khalik Allah)
Charm City (2018, dir. Marilyn Ness)

I saw all of these films in the cinema! That much is unusual because there’s reliably always a few that only pop up on Netflix or Mubi these days. I even went to see my top-rated film twice, mainly because the first time I didn’t feel I saw it in the best way, plus I was a bit sideswiped by its tone. It’s billed as a generic heist movie, but it lacks a lot of those genre elements, and it’s a far quieter, far more emotionally fragile film about people (women) who have been knocked back in life and are struggling to rebuild, which is where the heist comes in. Anyway, Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez and Elizabeth Debicki are all on top form, plus there’s some really brilliant from Daniel Kaluuya and Brian Tyree Henry too.

Three others are documentaries, all of which I really liked, two of which present more challenging urban US environments and try to find the positives within them (whether through the political candidacy of a charismatic Muslim-American woman in Time for Ilhan, or the engaged presence of community organisers working to curb violence in Baltimore in Charm City). The other documentary, Black Mother is by a filmmaker who’s cropped up a bunch of times on my round-ups this year, whose work I’m really enjoying, although this film by Khalik Allah is somehow both more beautiful and more troubling at times in its evocation of his idea of womanhood.

Finally, there’s room for Roma, which most people will be seeing on Netflix because it was made by them, but which I saw a rare cinematic screening of, and it is quite lovely in its busy set design details and sometimes frenetic action, but all covered by a glacially moving camera that sweeps and glides across everything with equanimity.

Top 10 Old Films (but new to me)


Pyaasa (1957, dir. Guru Dutt)
The Passionate Friends (1949, dir. David Lean)
Hao Nan Hao Nu (Good Men, Good Women, 1995, dir. Hou Hsiao-hsien)
Moloch Tropical (2009, dir. Raoul Peck)
Winchester ’73 (1950, dir. Anthony Mann)
Ore wa Sono Sion da! (I Am Sono Sion!, 1985, dir. Sion Sono)
Last Holiday (2006, dir. Wayne Wang)
Cinnamon (2006, dir. Kevin Jerome Everson)
Wakefield Express (1952, dir. Lindsay Anderson)
3 Women (1977, dir. Robert Altman)

Like last month’s list, the ones down the bottom of this month again were a little disappointing (I don’t think this is Altman’s finest film by any means, but it has its moments). However, the Guru Dutt was a revelation and I look forward to watching some more of his output, which gained a feature on Mubi online streaming this month.

The Everson film was part of a series of his work on Mubi (I’ve put a few others on the last few months’ lists), as was the Anthony Mann western, while the Wayne Wang holiday film was on Netflix — largely forgettable, but also largely likeable thanks to Queen Latifah in the lead role, but most of the rest were on DVD. The Hou film I’d been meaning to catch up with for a long time (given it had its moment just before I started getting into cinema in the late-90s). The Passionate Friends is David Lean following up Brief Encounter in the same vein, and largely succeeding — I watched it on the recommendation of the Pure Cinema podcast, a couple of intense and literate film nerds who cover a decent range of releases, who were strangely enthusiastic about this film (I think it had had a Paul Thomas Anderson nod at some point). I do also want to note the Raoul Peck film, on a French boxset of his work, and a surprisingly powerful (and beautiful) evocation of a dictator losing touch with his people.

The only one I saw on a big screen was Sion Sono’s debut medium-length film, which is punky and vibrant and quite exciting as an experiment in form, part of the London East Asian Film Festival.

October 2018 Film Roundup

I’m starting to get reliably late with these round-ups, though September’s round-up was sort of on time. Much of my October filmgoing was taken up with the London Film Festival, which I’ve written about separately here. As most of those titles haven’t (yet) been given a release this year, most of them don’t qualify for my new films list, which for some arbitrary reason is just films “on release” (hence excluding festival screenings), but I think I manage to scrape a few through on the basis of the rest of the month. (As ever, daily write-ups are at Letterboxd.)

Top 5 New Films (on their first release in the UK)


Columbus (2017, dir. Kogonada)
Shirkers (2018, dir. Sandi Tan)
Yours in Sisterhood (2018, dir. Irene Lusztig)
Tonsler Park (2017, dir. Kevin Jerome Everson)
A Star Is Born (2018, dir. Bradley Cooper)

One of these titles was in the London Film Festival, but also got released on the same date online by the streaming service Mubi: Yours in Sisterhood, a film in which women read unpublished letters sent to Ms. magazine in the 1970s, in the places where the letter writers were from, and comment on them. It’s straightforward and simple in form, but quite lovely (mostly). Two others are documentaries released online: Tonsler Park (also on Mubi) is by far the more minimal, showing the work of African-American volunteers in an election polling station in 2016; while Shirkers (on Netflix) has a playful sense of engagement with its own film history, being the story of a young Singaporean girl who made a film with some friends then had it stolen by its director.

The films that bookend the list are the cinema releases. Columbus was in last year’s London Film Festival, and is a lovely story of two people meeting in a small midwestern town most notable for its modernist architecture (Columbus, Indiana, not Ohio). There’s a really keen sense of the architecture, and much of the film is framed beautifully within and around these structures, as the two characters talk about their lives. And then there’s Bradley Cooper’s latest retelling of the old Hollywood story, and, well, it does what it needs to do, rather messily and sloppily at times, but effectively all the same (and Lady Gaga is excellent).

Top 10 Old Films (but new to me)


Enamorada (1946, dir. Emilio Fernández)
Possibly in Michigan (1983, dir. Cecelia Condit)
Ears, Nose and Throat (2016, dir. Kevin Jerome Everson)
Pas de Deux (1968, dir. Norman McLaren)
Thunder (1982, dir. Takashi Ito)
Nugu-ui ttal-do anin Hae-won (Nobody’s Daughter Haewon, 2013, dir. Hong Sang-soo)
Katatsumori (1994, dir. Naomi Kawase)
The Island of Saint Matthews (2013, dir. Kevin Jerome Everson)
Scener ur ett äktenskap (Scenes from a Marriage, 1973, dir. Ingmar Bergman)
Ni tsutsumarete (Embracing, 1993, dir. Naomi Kawase)

I stretched a bit to get ten films this month, as most of my viewing was new films, so the bottom three or four are probably not what I’d call solid recommendations. The Kawase mid-length films are from a screening in the London East Asia Film Festival of her earliest documentary works, while the Everson documentaries are part of a season on Mubi that included his most recent work, featuring in the first list. Then there’s the Criterion film by Ingmar Bergman, which is lengthy and not without its positive features, but has a slightly dull 1970s made-for-TV aesthetic.

The top film was in the LFF, and I mentioned it there, but it’s a full-blooded Mexican golden age melodrama. A number are short films (Possibly in Michigan, Pas de Deux and Thunder) which I watched online on YouTube, as I didn’t have much time, and they ended up being really interesting, though Ears, Nose and Throat is also a short film, and just shows how much you can pack into such a concise format.

Finally, the Hong Sang-soo film is one I caught up with a few years late (it got a cinema release, rarely for Hong’s work), and is one of his more straightforwardly enjoyable exercises.

London Film Festival 2018: My Favourite Films

I’ve had a successful year in terms of attending other film festivals, but being based in London, naturally a lot of my focus every year — especially when it comes to the best of new films (rather than the archival screenings of, say, Il Cinema Ritrovato in Bologna) — is the London Film Festival. This year, the stewardship of the festival had been taken over by Tricia Tuttle (as acting director initially, but now confirmed), who as a deputy director of the festival in previous years had always been a lively and engaged presence in Q&As, and undoubtedly has been very busy behind the scenes, because it seems to me to have been a particularly strong selection this year. Obviously a lot of that is down to the vicissitudes of availability of various titles (the lack of the new Claire Denis film was the only one I really felt I missed), but what films I saw were all interesting, and almost all screenings had an introduction if not a Q&A with the director or producer afterwards.

Of course, I cannot claim that my festival experience is that of everyone else; any film festival necessarily exists in multiple guises. The screenings that tend to get all the attention are the big galas and premieres, primarily in Leicester Square cinemas (or the festival’s large pop-up space in Embankment Gardens), and as a regular filmgoer I largely avoid those: they are expensive, and all the films generally already have release dates, so the only attraction is to see a film early and with its famous stars in attendance, and while that’s fine for the festival itself as far as getting press coverage go, it’s not where my interests lie (I did go and see the Sight & Sound gala premiere of Lee Chang-dong’s Burning, though). Instead, I tend to choose the titles that have no distribution in place, many of which are directed by first-time directors. In order to narrow my choices down, and not read up on every film in the programme endlessly, I usually shortlist films directed by women or people of colour — which also generally has the benefit of diversifying the range of cultures and experiences I see on screen during the festival.

As in previous years, the largest number of films I booked to see were from the Middle East and Arab-speaking world (programmed by Elhum Shakerifar, who also produced one of the films I saw in the festival), but it seems to me that the strongest selection out of what I ended up seeing were Spanish-language films. My favourite was the second (or third, depending on how you’re counting) feature by Dominga Sotomayor, whose debut De jueves a domingo (Thursday Till Sunday, 2012) I had caught up with on DVD earlier this year, and which is a strong film about a family breaking up, conveyed during an extended car trip across the country. When I saw that, it made me think of the child’s-eye point-of-view of Estiu 1993 (Summer 1993, 2017, dir. Carla Simón), one of my favourite films from LFF 2017, and it may be that there’s a certain circle of inspiration that moves from Sotomayor’s own debut to that film, and into Sotomayor’s second — indeed, the car of De jueves a domingo makes a reappearance in the opening shot of the new film, though this isn’t a road movie — and I thought of all of them again watching Tarde para morir joven (Too Late to Die Young). It’s set in a sort of hippie commune outside Santiago in the early days of the new democracy in the 1990s, conveyed through subtle details (it wasn’t until Mazzy Star’s “Fade into You” swelled up on the soundtrack that I fully realised we were in the mid-90s). It’s all beautifully shot and acted (largely by non-professionals), and I can strongly recommend it. It’s also a film for dog lovers (in the way that most festival cinema, if we’re being honest, is really about cats).

Also making a strong impression was young Mexican director Lila Avilés’s first feature La camarista (The Chambermaid), which follows Evelia (an amazing Gabriela Cartol, another first-time actor), a young native-born woman working in a luxury hotel in Mexico City. It lacks any strong, melodramatic plot contrivances, preferring to subtly loop in ideas of class and race as markers of difference, feeding into the way that guests react to Eve’s presence, and her own ability to work her way around within the hotel’s confining hierarchical structure. It makes its points without fuss, and using a slow, long-take sensibility that really conveys a sense of place, even as the film never strays beyond the bounds of the hotel itself. Also dealing with race is Miriam miente (Miriam Lies), a film from the Dominican Republic made by a husband and wife team (native-born Natalia Cabral and Spanish transplant Oriol Estrada) previously known for making documentaries. Here the race angle is more explicit, because it’s about a young Black Dominican girl growing up in a rich white society of debutantes, and the film’s drama (such as it is) revolves around the preparations for Miriam’s quinceañera and the guy she has invited as her date, whose constant non-appearance turns out to be because he also is Black and therefore not considered a suitable partner by her family or friends, hence her lies of the film’s title. Without ever being overtly angry, the film very ably expresses some of the race and class-based resentments that thread through this society. Both films remind me of other recent films from the region dealing with class and race, such as the Colombian drama Gente de bien (2014, dir. Franco Lolli) or the Venezuelan Pelo malo (Bad Hair, 2013, dir. Mariana Rondón).

It’s also worth mentioning here that my highlight of the ‘Treasures’ strand of the festival was Enamorada (1946), a Mexican melodrama from its 1940s golden age, directed by Emilio Fernández. Its restoration was premiered by Martin Scorsese (whose Film Foundation took the lead in the restoration work) at Il Cinema Ritrovato this year, before I arrived at that festival, hence why I missed it there. The BFI will be doing a season next year of Mexican films, which will undoubtedly be a real highlight, given how many of these films offer unrestrained pleasure in their melodramatic plots and forthright performances. In this case, it’s María Félix who tears up the screen as Beatriz in a small Mexican town during the revolutionary era, arms akimbo and both nose and eyes flaring at every moment, seemingly from having to be around such incompetent men. It’s a delight.

Returning to Middle Eastern films, my second-favourite film at the festival and the highlight of that strand, was for me the Iranian film Tehran: City of Love by another debut feature director, Ali Jaberansari. In a Q&A afterwards with Ms Shakerifar, he mentioned taking inspiration from the deadpan work of such directors as Aki Kaurismäki, Roy Andersson and Jim Jarmusch, and all of that is quite evident on screen. It tells three stories, which only briefly intersect, but all of which seem to suggest a different aspect of romance, with specific reference to body image. One is an overweight woman working as the receptionist at a cosmetic surgeon’s office, another a self-loathing funeral singer who has just split up and doesn’t know how to be happy, and the third is an ageing bodybuilder with repressed gay desires (or so it seems; the film is very circumspect on this) who feels a chance to connect with another person when a younger man needs training for an upcoming championship. Because it’s Iranian, there’s a strong sense of melancholy that weaves through all these stories, but ultimately the deadpan humour is evident at all times and there’s even a small hint of hopefulness, even if nothing seems to go quite to plan.

Another highlight of this region’s cinema was the Egyptian pseudo-documentary Dreamaway, by directing team of Marouan Omara and Johanna Domke, which in its play with performance and the light fictionalisation that is applied at certain levels, brings to mind Alma Har’el’s work (like LFF 2016’s LoveTrue or her earlier Bombay Beach). In this case, you get the sense that the fictionalisation is partly to protect the workers themselves, who limn the conservative attitudes of their society with the relative hedonism and freedom of this entirely separate resort area. Indeed, the resort at Sharm-el-Sheikh, which seems strictly for foreign tourists, is also portrayed as largely desolate and empty — artistic licence, perhaps, but one that speaks eloquently to the drop-off in tourism as a result of Egypt’s recent turmoil. And so we see these young Egyptians cleaning rooms, doing fitness/dance routines, mixing drinks and performing as mimes (one man in full black-and-gold body makeup pretending to be a bronze cowboy is exactly the kind of thing you might find amongst the crowds in Covent Garden, or wherever your city’s tourist heart is found) to an audience of just each other. The uncanniness is further heightened by the conceit of a man in a monkey costume eliciting confessions from the back of a flatbed truck, and there are occasional brief interstices with these workers wandering aimlessly through the desert much as the characters traipse along roads in Buñuel’s Le Charme discret de la bourgeoisie — surrealism is never far from the surface here.

I want to round up my summary with a trio of American films, two of which I saw when I visited the States at the end of August, and which I featured in my round-up of that month. If I’d seen Madeline’s Madeline and Sorry to Bother You at LFF 2018, they’d be in my top 5 (indeed, the former film, directed by Josephine Decker, would probably be my #1). As it is, I saw Andrew Bujalski’s latest Support the Girls at LFF (it was on release when I was in the States, but I couldn’t fit it in back then). It initially seems fairly unpromising — it revolves around the workers at a Texan ‘breastaurant’, a strangely American phenomenon of a family-friendly diner staffed by young women wearing revealing tops — but turns out to share more in common with some of the films discussed above than expected. Bujalski himself comes from a very specific type of NY-based indie improv background (he was one of the early filmmakers in the so-called ‘mumblecore’ movement, though with 2015’s Results he showed a tendency towards the kind of space he deals with in his latest film as well: a brightly-lit space redolent of the worst trends of modernity, with a cast of charismatic screen-friendly name actors). As such, there’s a strong sense of fellow consciousness with the women who work at the restaurant, their struggles with uncaring, bottom-line and image-obsessed management (embodied by James Le Gros), and with a generalised feeling of class-based disconnect within wider American society. It’s also tied together with a pair of divergently strong performances by Black woman leads: Regina Hall as Lisa, the very competent and well-liked general manager of the restaurant, who would probably never be seen in this environment if it weren’t for needing work, and Shayna McHayle as worker Danyelle, whose eye-rolls and attitude enliven the film no end. The versatile Haley Lu Richardson (familiar from Columbus and Edge of Seventeen) is also on fine form, and completely unrecognisable from those other performances. It’s a slow-burn comic highlight.

My Top 20 Films at LFF 2018 (that I saw there)

  1. Tarde para morir joven (Too Late to Die Young, Chile/Argentina/Brazil/Netherlands/Qatar, dir. Dominga Sotomayor)
  2. Tehran: City of Love (Iran/Netherlands/UK, dir. Ali Jaberansari)
  3. Enamorada (1946, Mexico, dir. Emilio Fernández)
  4. La camarista (The Chambermaid, Mexico/USA, dir. Lila Avilés)
  5. Support the Girls (USA, dir. Andrew Bujalski)
  6. Îmi este indiferent dacă în istorie vom intra ca barbari (I Do Not Care If We Go Down in History as Barbarians, Romania/Bulgaria/Czech Republic/France/Germany, dir. Radu Jude)
  7. Dreamaway (Egypt/Qatar/Germany, dir. Marouan Omara/Johanna Domke)
  8. Miriam miente (Miriam Lies, Dominican Republic/Spain, dir. Natalia Cabral/Oriol Estrada)
  9. Beoning (Burning, South Korea, dir. Lee Chang-dong)
  10. Jiang Nu Er Nu (Ash Is Purest White, China/Japan/France, dir. Jia Zhangke)
  11. Monrovia, Indiana (USA, dir. Frederick Wiseman)
  12. Netemo Sametemo (Asako I & II, Japan, dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi)
  13. Ai to Ho (Of Love & Law, Japan/UK/France, dir. Hikaru Toda)
  14. Haishang Fucheng (Dead Pigs, China/USA, dir. Cathy Yan)
  15. Rafiki (aka Friend, Kenya/South Africa, dir. Wanuri Kahiu)

… with a special mention to Madeline’s Madeline (dir. Josephine Decker) and Sorry to Bother You (dir. Boots Riley), which I’d already seen, and which would rank highly. Any of the films above, indeed, could have been higher-placed had I perhaps been in the right frame of mind to take them in, and there was plenty to like in all of them I thought. There was also an excellent “surprise treasure” film screening (a newly-restored 1988 medium-length film), but we were asked not to speak about that.

Disclaimer: I am not a film journalist or writer (you may be able to tell; this is all strictly amateur), I did not get press accreditation, and I paid for all my screenings.

September 2018 Film Roundup

My August round-up was late, so here I am back (more or less) on time with September. The start of the month I was in LA with family, but since then I’ve been back to the cinema. In fact, 63% of the films I saw last month were at the cinema, though I only scraped by with one film per day on average in any location including home (which is the lowest of the year so far and will certainly be surpassed in October, which is London Film Festival month). In fact, generally it was a poor month for women directors and directors of colour so I’ll be looking to redress that with my film festival picks. (As ever, daily write-ups are at Letterboxd.)

Top 5 New Films (on their first release in the UK)


Skate Kitchen (2018, dir. Crystal Moselle)
The Miseducation of Cameron Post (2018, dir. Desiree Akhavan)
A Simple Favor (aka A Simple Favour, 2018, dir. Paul Feig)
Lucky (2017, dir. John Carroll Lynch)
Visages villages (Faces Places, 2017, dir. Agnès Varda/JR)

All of these films were seen in the cinema, for a change, including the very belated UK release of Agnès Varda’s documentary (which premiered at Cannes last year). Lucky was also a slow road to UK cinemas — its star Harry Dean Stanton sadly passed away in the meantime — but it has that kind of Straight Story/Jarmusch vibe, so it holds up. The others are far more current and vibrant, and I was in particular surprised by A Simple Favor which was silly and genre-bending, but had comedy, thrills and some excellent acting from Blake Lively and Anna Kendrick.

As for the top two, I’ve definitely seen some far less sympathetic write-ups — and I do agree that Skate Kitchen‘s actual story is a little bit rote — but in both cases I love the style, that sort of quiet reflective almost accidental way of coming across a narrative. The first is also infused with documentary influences, which work really well.

Top 10 Old Films (but new to me)


The Spook Who Sat by the Door (1973, dir. Ivan Dixon)
Samson and Delilah (2009, dir. Warwick Thornton)
Berlin: Die Sinfonie der Großstadt (Berlin: A Symphony of a Great City, 1927, dir. Walther Ruttmann)
Onibaba (1964, dir. Kaneto Shindo)
Ukigusa Monogatari (A Story of Floating Weeds, 1934, dir. Yasujiro Ozu)
Chameleon Street (1989, dir. Wendell B. Harris Jr)
Salvatore Giuliano (1962, dir. Francesco Rosi)
Le Corbeau (1943, dir. Henri-Georges Clouzot)
Listen to Britain (1942, dir. Humphrey Jennings/Stewart McAllister)
People Power Bombshell: The Diary of Vietnam Rose (2016, dir. John Torres)

I saw three of these in the cinema, two of them in a “Black and Banned” retrospective at the BFI of under-seen filmmaking by Black filmmakers — though neither The Spook Who Sat by the Door (a wild satire which reminded me of last month’s Sorry to Bother You) nor Chameleon Street (another satire, and a Sundance favourite) were banned per se, they did de facto slip into that category by being shunned by distributors and then locked away in purgatory, meaning they never got proper distribution. The other film I saw in the cinema was a Filipino film about film history and representation, People Power Bombshell, a very thoughtful and multilayered film which probably should be in the top list (can’t imagine it’s had any other kind of release).

Mubi stepped up for Berlin and Listen to Britain, but otherwise I’ve mainly been watching short films there (the latter is a short), and somewhat more complex (and clearly unsatisfying) films this month. A very strong four films come from the regular Criterion Collection watching, so expect reviews of them in upcoming months. Finally, there’s Samson and Delilah, which I rented on DVD because I really liked the director’s recent Sweet Country, and it is indeed an excellent (if expectedly depressing) story about Aboriginal Australians.

August 2018 Film Roundup

I was on holiday at the start of the month, so I entirely neglected this at the time, hence the lateness. My July round-up was a bumper bonus crop, so I’m back to the usual five new and 10 old films this month, though you can rest assured I saw more of both, a total of 44 films including rewatches. (As ever, daily write-ups are at Letterboxd.)

Top 5 New Films (on their first release in the UK)


Madeline’s Madeline (2018, dir. Josephine Decker)
Sorry to Bother You (2018, dir. Boots Riley)
Las herederas (The Heiresses, 2018, dir. Marcelo Martinessi)
To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018, dir. Susan Johnson)
Las Sandinistas (2018, dir. Jenny Murray)

First up, the most important point to make is that the first two films haven’t even been released in the UK (though they’re new films obviously, hence their inclusion). Madeline’s Madeline is about an experimental theatre troupe and deals with issues of performance, and socialisation in groups, and is being shown at the London Film Festival in October. I adored the same director’s previous films Butter on the Latch (2013) and Thou Wast Mild and Lovely (2014) — the latter, in particular, has imagery that still sticks in my mind, so I feel I should really revisit it.

The second film is a raucous satire about black people in modern America, and I can only presume distributors don’t think it will appeal to British audiences (which is just ridiculous). It fizzes with energy, even if it can seem a little madcap at times — though there’s no amount of comic stretching that could really compare to the reality of the situation — so I’m inclined to allow the film its wilder imagery. The performances are stellar too, not least Lakeith Stanfield in the central role, and Tessa Thompson as his nihilist artist girlfriend Detroit. I hope it gets a UK release before the year is out.

The other three are a mix of films in the cinema — The Heiresses a slow-burn Paraguayan drama about two an elderly lesbian couple, one of whom suddenly finds herself needing to express her independence, and Las Sandinistas a documentary about that Nicaraguan movement, especially during the 80s and 90s, which takes the form of an almost rock-and-roll assemblage and moves along nimbly.

Finally, there’s a rare triumph of a Netflix film (To All the Boys…) which may not be the most cinematically advanced film, and may rely on at least some hoary old genres, but manages to feel fresh and also, crucially, just utterly delightful and charming.

Top 10 Old Films (but new to me)


Pickup on South Street (1953, dir. Samuel Fuller)
Se, Jie (Lust, Caution, 2007, dir. Ang Lee)
Le Bonheur (1965, dir. Agnes Varda)
Public Housing (1997, dir. Frederick Wiseman)
Bei Xi Mo Shou (Behemoth, 2015, dir. Zhao Liang)
La Pointe-Courte (1955, dir. Agnes Varda)
Werewolf (2016, dir. Ashley Mackenzie)
Fruitvale Station (2013, dir. Ryan Coogler)
Blue Black Permanent (1992, dir. Margaret Tait)
Malgré la nuit (Despite the Night, 2015, dir. Philippe Grandrieux)

The Mubi streaming service again provides a number of these — an Ang Lee season allowed me to catch up with his Lust, Caution, which turns out to be an effective and lush film about espionage and relationships wartime China, while a season of new Canadian films yielded Werewolf, my favourite of the bunch I’ve seen, which despite the title deals with methadone addicts in small-town Canada, and has a striking style (also, it may technically count as a ‘new film’ I guess, given I daresay it hasn’t had any kind of screening before now in the UK). Finally, Blue Black Permanent was something they put up in collaboration with the wonderful Cinema Rediscovered festival at Bristol’s Watershed, and is a fine film made by a poet, and which has that sensibility to its imagery.

A couple of others come from a touring Agnès Varda season that’s been doing the rounds ahead of her upcoming Faces Places film (released in the UK on 21 September, finally). I’d seen neither Le Bonheur (a spiky relationship drama) nor her debut La Pointe-Courte (about a small fishing village), but both are excellent, though dare I say it perhaps Varda is getting a little overexposed now…

The top place goes to a film I saw as part of my regular Criterion watching, a film by Samuel Fuller that’s equal to his muckracking tabloid-style movies of the 60s, and has noirish style to spare, in its story of wartime espionage, Communist spies, and a wonderful Thelma Ritter as an embittered lady who’s not taking it anymore.

The rest are all films I rented over the month, a range of documentaries (Behemoth about strip-mining in China, and Public Housing about, er, well you can guess… in Chicago), a film torn from the headlines (Ryan Coogler’s fine debut Fruitvale Station, about a shooting on the San Francisco BART system), and Philippe Grandrieux’s bold expressive film about his usual dark subject matter: relationships gone bad.

July 2018 Film Roundup

A bit late with it this month, but after my lacklustre effort in June to watch new films (I only managed three in total), I’ve redoubled my efforts and can for July present you an EXPANDED new films list, that even so manages to miss out the wonderfully enjoyable Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again… It’s been a month of SUN and HEATWAVE temperatures (for Britain) which means that the cool comfort of a cinema screen has been particularly welcome. (As ever, daily write-ups are at Letterboxd.)

Last month I also promised an update for stats fans, and I can confirm that 50% of the features I watched in July were directed by women (20 out of 40 films in total), and as you can see six of them show up in each of the top 10s below. Moreover, 53% of the films I saw (i.e. 21) were directed by people of colour.

Top 10 New Films (on their first release in the UK)


Leave No Trace (2018, dir. Debra Granik)
Cold War (2018, dir. Pawel Pawlikowski)
Shakedown (2018, dir. Leilah Weinraub)
In the Fade (2017, dir. Fatih Akin)
Naila and the Uprising (2017, dir. Julia Bacha)
Outside In (2017, dir. Lynn Shelton)
Speak Up (2017, dir. Amandine Gay)
Mission: Impossible – Fallout (2018, dir. Christopher McQuarrie)
Claire’s Camera (2017, dir. Hong Sang-soo)
Pin Cushion (2017, dir. Deborah Haywood)

I saw all but one of these films at a cinema (the odd one out was Netflix-only release Outside In). For some of them, saying they were on “release” is a little misleading (Claire’s Camera was a one-off Korean Film Festival preview screening, Speak Up was another one-off screening, while Cold War is being released properly at the end of August).

It’s good to see more 2018 films finally making these lists, and the two up the top are surely the strongest of 2018’s dramatic narrative films I’ve seen so far this year. Leave No Trace for me is superior to the same director’s Winter’s Bone of almost ten years ago, and the young woman at the centre of the story is a New Zealand actor it turns out. In any case, she gives a great performance, coming across (and I mean this as a compliment) as an unrehearsed non-actor, someone who’s really living the part. Ben Foster also disappears into the film, as he tends to do (he’s been in so many good films, but I still don’t really know how to spot him). Cold War, meanwhile, in a sense extends Pawlikowski’s black-and-white historical Polish stories after Ida, but strikes a quite different tone. There’s a heavy sense of doomed romance, and Pawlikowski cuts out everything that’s extraneous, so that it comes in at under 90 minutes.

Elsewhere, there’s a strong showing from documentaries, which this past month have ranged across subjects like underground LA queer sex workers in Shakedown (a fascinating story of people who aren’t much represented on screen) to reminiscences of the Palestinian Intifada in Naila and the Uprising, and French feminists of colour speaking direct to camera in Speak Up.

Outside In and Pin Cushion are little indie dramas from the US and UK respectively, the latter of which has a bleak edge that makes what initially seems like a twee coming of age story feel a little more raw by its conclusion. Mission: Impossible – Fallout is the blockbuster on the list (which feels a little rote now in this franchise, but still manages to pack plenty in), and In the Fade is a fine German film anchored by an amazing performance from Diane Kruger. Finally, if you haven’t really enjoyed some of Hong Sang-soo’s recent films, you probably won’t like Claire’s Camera because it continues his improvisational non-style-as-style technique, and has a daffy Isabelle Huppert wandering around Cannes.

Top 10 Old Films (but new to me)

beDevil (1993, dir. Tracey Moffatt)
I Am Somebody (1970, dir. Madeline Anderson)
Chocolat (1988, dir. Claire Denis)
The Battle of Chile (1975-79, dir. Patricio Guzman)
Mamma Mia! (2008, dir. Phyllida Lloyd)
Mossane (1996, dir. Safi Faye)
Little Fugitive (1953, dir. Morris Engel/Ruth Sorkin/Ray Ashley)
Thursday Till Sunday (2012, dir. Dominga Sotomayor)
The Man by the Shore (1993, dir. Raoul Peck)
The Nights of Zayandeh-Rood (1990, dir. Mohsen Makhmalbaf)

After last month’s blow-out at Bologna, most of these were seen at home, although it’s notable that the top two were seen at Bristol’s Cinema Rediscovered festival, which takes direct inspiration from Bologna. It’s a new festival, but Bristol is a lovely city with plenty of sense of artistic discovery and I look forward to revisiting it. Tracey Moffatt is an Australian artist of part Aboriginal descent, and beDevil was her only feature: it is very much the film of an artist, and has a singular sense of place, with the kind of stage-bound feeling of old Hollywood movies but riven through with a confrontational sensibility that makes it very much an outlier of everything else being made at the time. I Am Somebody, meanwhile, is a short film made during the Civil Rights movement which deals with intersectional ideas of the struggle for social change at a time when these ideas were still in their infancy.

The others largely just reflect what I’ve been renting from my video shop, although the Raoul Peck film is from me struggling to work through a box set of his Haitian films, and Mossane was a one-off screening at the BFI of a singular Black African woman filmmaker (one of very few).

June 2018 Film Roundup

Sadly, I have failed in my third month of my sub-quest to watch more than 50% films directed by women (last month was more succesful), though my general 2018 challenge to watch an unseen film (something new or new to you) every day continues apace. This comes down to my own poor planning in advance of a week-long jaunt to Bologna for its fantastic Il Cinema Ritrovato film festival. I loved that festival, I loved the town, I loved having dinner and Aperol/Campari spritzes with friends as well as meeting new people (mostly film writers and academics), and I loved the food and general vibe of both the town and the festival. However, as it’s a festival dedicated to old and archival films (as well as new restorations of old films), it does mean the demographics skew a bit white and male — not just on the films, but on the attendees too it might be added. I got the feeling that the festival was trying to address the diversity at least a tiny bit (it was my first year so I can’t really be sure), and I tried my best to fit as many films directed by women in, but it was not enough to pass my own little quest for this month. That said, I’ll redouble my efforts in the (not named after a woman) month of July. Also, I didn’t even watch enough films to get a top 5 for new release movies, but I blame that on film distributors — the weather has been rather sunny and lovely, and a few blockblusters clogged the screens.

PS Once again, I’m still posting notes on all the films I see over at Letterboxd but herewith my summary.

Top 3 New Films (on their first release in the UK)

Another Country (2015, dir. Molly Reynolds)
Casa Roshell (2017, dir. Camila José Donoso)
The Rape of Recy Taylor (2017, dir. Nancy Buirski)

The first two films were on Mubi this past month, and only the last had a cinema release. Moreover, I only really liked the first film; the other two are the only other two new-release films I saw, so they’re there by default (and even then, I’m including Another Country because I believe this is its first proper release in the UK, aside perhaps from some one-off screenings).

That first film is a documentary about Aboriginal people, and the way in which their lives have been affected by racist policies of the Australian government: it’s a strong film about giving a sense of a community, but it’s also depressing, with little apparent hope for change to the way these Aboriginal reservations are organised. The other two are also documentaries, the first sort of a hybrid documentary-fiction about a Mexican nightclub and its genderqueer and trans performers, the second about a footnote to the early history of the Civil Rights movement in the USA largely composed of historians and archival footage.

Top 15 Old Films (but new to me)

Cabaret (1972, dir. Bob Fosse)
È piccerella (1922, dir. Elvira Notari)
Late Chrysanthemums (1954, dir. Mikio Naruse)
Lieutenant Kizhe (1934, dir. Aleksandr Faintsimmer)
In Jackson Heights (2015, dir. Frederick Wiseman)
Journey to the West (2014, dir. Tsai Ming-liang)
Crown Prince of the Republic (1934, dir. Eduard Ioganson)
Jane B. by Agnès V. (1988, dir. Agnès Varda)
Black Goddess (1978, dir. Ola Balogun)
Chronicle of the Years of Fire (1975, dir. Mohammed Lakhdar-Hamina)
Lights of Old Broadway (1925, dir. Monta Bell)
Mysterious Shadows (1949, dir. G.W. Pabst)
Haitian Corner (1988, dir. Raoul Peck)
The Winter of Three Hairs (1949, dir. Gong Yan/Ming Zhao)
Carita de cielo (1947, dir. José Díaz Morales)

Because of the shorter list above, and because of the Il Cinema Ritrovato film festival (accounting for all the pre-80s films above except the Naruse), I’ve expanded the list this month to 15 choices, and there are plenty more I could have added that I’d still have liked more than even my favourite new-release film this month.

In Bologna, most of the films I saw were vintage 35mm prints from various archives. The Academy Film Archive in Los Angeles furnished vintage Technicolor prints, clearly the best and most impressive way to see Cabaret for the first time — a film I loved, despite its Oscars success (never a guide to quality, of course). Various national archives came through for the rest. There were Soviet films, and two of the four I saw from their 1934 strand are above, both amusing and wry. There were silent films, both my choices above by women filmmakers (Monta Bell in the States, and Elvira Notari in Italy), and both also amusing, if broad, comedies. There was a strand of Chinese films, from which I saw three films, with the one above my favourite, a beautifully shot portrait of an era filtered through a comic book sensibility. I didn’t end up including any of the 1930s Fox films, or the John M. Stahl melodramas, perhaps because in the case of the former, they were not the best films (though they were interesting), and in the latter I’m just not a huge melodrama fan, even if I can appreciate the artistry Stahl brought to his work. However, one of the Mexican melodramas sneaks in, the grandly enjoyable and daffy Carita de cielo, though I’m kicking myself I missed Victims of Sin, which I hear was wonderful.

Additionally, there was a programme called ‘Cinemalibero’ that included various activist and revolutionary films, not least Nigerian filmmaker Ola Balogun’s Brazilian film Black Goddess, who was there to introduce it, and was a real highlight (and a rare film to get to see). The other film I’ve included above from that strand was a new restoration (therefore presented in digital format), the grand and sweeping story of Algerian independence, taking in much of the early-20th century, the beautiful Chronicle of the Years of Fire (its director was also there, but I didn’t get the chance to listen, and my French wouldn’t have been up to it, in any case).

Finally of the Bologna films was another recent restoration in digital 4K, which was the late Pabst film Mysterious Shadows. It may not have been a masterpiece, but it was great fun — taking in cave exploration, ice skating, bad capitalists trying to exploit science, a romantic three-way, and some deft camerawork. With all that, and the relatively cheap eating and drinking, I shall definitely be returning to this film festival.