So much for writing separate posts for everything; that didn’t really work out for me in the long-term. I still watch a lot of movies (more than ever) but in terms of writing I go through phases, as I’m sure many of us who try and write about films do, and right now I’ve not really felt an urge to write up my film reviews (beyond a few short sentences on Letterboxd). So here’s a round-up of stuff I saw in May. See below the cut for reviews of…
Captain America: Civil War (2016, USA) Cold Comfort Farm (1995, UK) Desperately Seeking Susan (1985, USA) Down with Love (2003, USA) Everybody Wants Some!! (2016, USA) Evolution (2015, France/Belgium/Spain) Feminists Insha’allah! The Story of Arab Feminism (2014, France) A Flickering Truth (2015, New Zealand) Green Room (2015, USA) Hamlet liikemaailmassa (Hamlet Goes Business) (1987, Finland) Heart of a Dog (2015, USA) Lemonade (2016, USA) Losing Ground (1982, USA) Lovely Rita (2001, Austria/Germany) Luck by Chance (2009, India) As Mil e Uma Noites: Volume 3, O Encantado (Arabian Nights Volume 3: The Enchanted One) (2015, Portugal/France/Germany/Switzerland) Money Monster (2016, USA) Mon roi (aka My King) (2015, France) My Life Without Me (2003, Canada/Spain) Our Kind of Traitor (2016, UK) Pasqualino Settebellezze (Seven Beauties) (1975, Italy) Picture Bride (1994, USA) Radio On (1979, UK/West Germany) She’s Beautiful When She’s Angry (2014, USA) Sisters in Law (2005, UK/Cameroon) Star Men (2015, USA/UK/Canada) Their Eyes Were Watching God (2005, USA) Trouble Every Day (2001, France/Germany/Japan) Underground (1928, UK) L’Une chante, l’autre pas (One Sings, the Other Doesn’t) (1977, France) Visage (Face) (2009, France/Taiwan) Zir-e poost-e shahr (Under the Skin of the City) (2001, Iran)
These two documentaries by veteran English documentarian Kim Longinotto (co-directed by Jano Williams) have titles which nicely complement one another, as well as both being filmed in Japan. They also share an interest in looking into underrepresented aspects of Japanese culture, respectively women’s professional wrestling and female-to-male transgender nightclub hosts. Both are fascinating in their ways, though they don’t aim to provide full context — the wrestling documentary, Gaea Girls, doesn’t get into the foundation of the Gaea Japan league or any backstory about the figures involved, while Shinjuku Boys doesn’t really go beyond the confines of the Marilyn Club in Tokyo. Still, what’s there is still engrossing, particularly in the feature-length Gaea Girls, which throws us into an organisation run by the buzzcut and imposing Chigusa Nagayo to train up wrestlers, though at times it seems more like a ladies’ reformatory school as we see parents dropping off their sullen daughters to take up the wrestling lifestyle. Few of them seem cut out for the sport (and several drop out or run away over the course of the film) but as the documentary progresses, we start to focus on Takeuchi, who despite her diminutive stature seems determined to make it, even as she’s seen effortlessly swatted about by Nagayo — and in a few disarming sequences, brutally bloodied and beaten (within the ring, of course). Her monosyllabic responses and lack of clear reasons for her persistence are in contrast to Nagayo’s engagement with the documentary, as she talks about her own violent upbringing. On the other hand, the Shinjuku Boys seem not to come from the same kind of background, though the film’s thematics fit in with a wider discussion in modern times about transgender issues and rights. The language deployed by the interviewees covers a range of identities, from one who still uses the female pronoun and considers their work as dressing up, to another who is committed to his new identity and has a male-to-female transgender partner. It’s a relatively short work, but it remains interesting throughout, and both are made with care and respect, as with Longinotto’s other films.
Gaea Girls (2000) Directors/Writers Kim Longinotto and Jano Williams; Cinematographer Longinotto; Length 104 minutes. Seen at home (DVD), London, Thursday 21 January 2016.
Shinjuku Boys (1995) Directors Kim Longinotto and Jano Williams; Cinematographer Longinotto; Length 53 minutes. Seen at home (DVD), London, Tuesday 12 January 2016.
The British documentarian Kim Longinotto is clearly used to making films with relatively few resources, which is somewhat apt, given her subjects are so often those (primarily women) who are systematically excluded by structures of control and discourse. (Even her archival compilation earlier this year Love Is All touches on these themes, while otherwise seeming rather unlike the rest of her output.) Still, for all this, her latest work Dreamcatcher is never anything less than immaculately crafted, and follows the story of a woman called Brenda, who runs an outreach programme named the Dreamcatcher Foundation. The programme focuses on helping women working the streets of her area of Chicago, a life that Brenda grew up in, and it’s her story and those of the women she meets that form the backbone of the documentary. In a sense, it’s not really about prostitution though, but about the ways in which a climate of abuse and poverty can narrow life choices to such a point that hope can seem elusive, and it’s alleviating that particular problem which the Foundation focuses on (Brenda’s paid day job is working in a women’s prison). Brenda is not only seen driving around the streets of Chicago by night, but also working with troubled kids at a local high school, at her prison job, and at home — which is where we really see the struggle it can sometimes be for her to maintain her fearless public persona (sometimes just through small humanising moments like her looking for the right wig to wear that day). Despite the treacly sentiment that the poster’s tagline suggests, both the filmmaker and Brenda steer clear of judgmentalism or preaching (there’s very little reference to religion, for example), and thanks to this focus on Brenda and some of the more articulate women she works with and helps, the film steers clear of the kind of doomy pessimism you might expect given some of the heartwrenching stories of childhood abuse and neglect that are recounted. There’s certainly plenty of such material to give one pause, but it’s the focus on doing small things to help improve her community that makes the documentary well worth catching.
NEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW Director Kim Longinotto | Length 104 minutes || Seen at BFI Southbank (NFT1), London, Sunday 8 March 2015
NEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW Seen at ICA, London, Tuesday 17 February 2015
This collage of romance-based clips, primarily a selection from British feature films and shorts from across the 20th century (more or less) as well as what looks like home movie footage and other archival sources, is a somewhat slight basis for a feature-length film, but is given extra weight by the prominence given to Richard Hawley’s musical soundtrack. This film then will appeal to fans of his occasionally wistful, sometimes washed-out and fuzz-heavy psychedelic rock, though I had not previously been familiar with his output and I found the experience a pleasant 70 minutes. Without any voiceover or overt framing, the clips themselves subtly suggest a changing century, especially with regards to racial and gay representation, which becomes increasingly obvious, the former as early as Piccadilly (1928) though brought up-to-date with Brick Lane (2007), and the latter with clips going through to My Beautiful Laundrette (1985). Early on we see clips of women robustly fighting off lovers juxtaposed with women posing for photos, suggesting in that case a degree of self-determination, so this is hardly a random assemblage, and it seems to be built up in thematic blocks. That said, it’s easy to just let the score wash over you, and the focus that this affords to what’s happening in the image means that even the more famous films become defamiliarised. This allows the subtext to actors’ glances and movements to become far more recognisable, and it works particulary well with the films given extended treatment by Longinotto’s documentary.
CREDITS || Director Kim Longinotto | Length 70 minutes