The Hour of Liberation has Arrived is the only first-hand account of the democratic, feminist Popular Front for the Liberation of the Occupied Arabian Gulf. Enabled by recent advances in film technology, the film gave voices to the voiceless to create one of the most direct revolutionary documentaries from the Arab world and beyond.
For one of the best examples of a revolutionary documentary film, helped by recent technological advances to film equipment
It broke boundaries – it was the first film directed by an Arab woman that was screened at Cannes (in 1974)
It’s the only first-hand account of the democratic, feminist guerrilla movement against the British backed Sultanate of Oman
The Breakdown
The Hour of Liberation Has Arrived offers the only glimpse of the Popular Front for the Liberation of the Occupied Arabian Gulf, a secular, democratic, feminist revolutionary movement that managed to liberate one third of the Sultanate of Oman. In the region they liberated, the Front launched an extensive program of social reforms, captured in this revolutionary documentary, the most radical being affirmative action for women.
Filmed in 1971, The Hour of Liberation Has Arrived was made possible due to advances in film technology. It brought voices to the voiceless through synch sound (sound recorded at the time of filming). Whilst synch sound had been around since the birth of sound movies, it had only recently become more portable with new hand-held filming equipment that could record sound and video by itself, without a separate sound recorder. Without this advance in technology, this film wouldn’t have been made, as the 800 kilometers that Heiny Srour and her Team had to walk to reach the Front (under the bombing of the British Royal Air Force) would have been dauntingly arduous. The advance in synch sound technology allowed filmmakers, particularly documentary filmmakers, to capture otherwise inaccessible locations. The less intrusive equipment also allowed filmmakers to capture more authentic representations of reality – a truckload of equipment, lighting, and larger crews make people act different to one person filming with a small camera.
The film pieces together stock and live footage, photography, maps, and voice-over narration to create both a first-hand account of the movement, as well as a revolutionary manifesto. The photography and live footage provide the first-hand account of the revolutionaries and their day to day activities, whilst the stock footage, maps, and voice-over narration provide the anti-imperialist impetus that drives them. Its use of a range of media to tell its message looks raw, like a modern, student-made essay film, but this gives the documentary an authenticity that studio-made movies couldn’t replicate. Free from the ties to corporations/companies, governments and heavy, expensive film equipment, Srour could make whatever film she wanted. This is revolutionary cinema at its most direct.
What to Watch Next
You don’t have to turn far to watch more revolutionary cinema. For the big budget films, turn to the brilliant Cuban films sponsored by the USSR such as I Am Cuba and Lucia or Pontecorvo’s docu-drama of the Algerian fight for independence in Battle of Algiers. You can also find gold in lower budget third cinema films such as Flame, Mortu Nega, and Sambizanga.
To see how further technological advances have enabled filmmakers to get even closer to the revolution, check out some films enabled by the digital revolution, such as The Square, Winter on Fire, and The Edge of Democracy.
If you’re a fan of coming of age films centered around trouble seeking kids, you’ll find a lot of familiar ground in Boy on the Bridge. Set within a now sleepy mediterranean town, 12 year old Socrates forces the community to reckon with secrets in a way that the police and town leaders cannot.
Boy on the Bridge starts with two 12 year old boys setting off home made firecrackers in the middle of the street to surprise a drunk man as he walks out of his house. The noise they create alerts the local police chief, setting up a bike chase through the town. Socrates, the troublemaking kid, escapes through the forest to the home of an old war vet. His stories of the war, and willingness to give young Socrates advice to advance his bomb-making, makes him one of his role models in the film.
His other role model, his respectable dad, generously forgives him for his trouble-making. He’s positioned as the benevolent character in this film through his role as community mediator (as seen in a scene in which he gathers community leaders to confront a domestic violence incident), his leniency with Socrates, and his position as a doctor (an always respectable occupation). However, his benevolent character is a front to disguise the secrets he keeps from his family, which inevitably, the curious Socrates uncovers. His secrets, not his benevolence, are shown to be what binds the community together.
Like other films that feature boys getting into trouble, Boy on the Bridge shows that trouble often leads to discovering hidden secrets. Whilst the secrets that Socrates uncovers are less fantastic than the hidden treasure in The Goonies, its humble community murder mystery make it an engaging enough watch.
Or if you’re looking for more films focusing on community in small towns on the Mediterranean, try The Black Pin from Montenegro and Simshar from Malta.
Watching the 2023 Oscar shorts is the quickest and easiest way to get closer to watching all of the Oscar contenders. So if you’re looking for something to say about the Academy Awards this week, check these short films out at cinemas near you.
The Animated 2023 Oscar Shorts
An Ostrich Told Me the World is Fake and I Think I Believe It (Australia)
Neil (Pendragon himself) works at a computer doing… something. He finds himself on the daily commute to his office from… somewhere. There’s always a deadline and schedule to meet at the corporation of… mysterious account. Luckily, Neil finds therapeutic understanding in an office ostrich (John Cavanagh), who reveals to him much of what the audience already understands: the fourth wall is what keeps Neil from his destiny, a life unfettered from the benign banality of… some such.
The strangest among the crop of this year’s nominees—usually a feat within itself, but here even more so—An Ostrich colludes camera trickery and unexplained plot thickening to the benefit of anyone wondering how stop motion became so relevant in today’s industry again. Pendragon maintains his win for the Australian Student Academy Award for the short, a sign of creative breakthrough, if not some trust from a system ready to hold their faith above the absurd. For his inventive framing and perceptions, further recognition for Pendragon wouldn’t be unwarranted. -ST
Ice Merchants (Portugal)
Doing more with silence than the rest of this year’s dialogue-minimal shorts combined, Gonzalez’s artistic depiction of father-son relationships at their brink is a tragedy bred from circumstances beyond our comprehension. Curiously isolated from their matriarch, the two undergo a baffling daily routine: freezing water from atop their lofty cliffside home, plummeting down to merchandise in the valley town below, and steadily making their way back up for supper and sleep. This goes on until powers beyond their own force a spontaneous break from habit.
Gonzalez won this year’s Annie Award for Best Short Subject, a notice of interest to the Academy’s voters as beneficial as any. Ice Merchants will go down with or without the Oscar as one of the most lauded short films in the program’s history, running the festival circuit mercilessly from a deliriously colorful skypoint. Yet the short, more clever than it ever leads its hand with, emotionally seals a justified landing even when all seems lost; maybe it could do so on Oscar night just the same. -ST
My Year of Dicks (U.S.)
Screenwriter Pamela Ribon, noted for her work on Moana and Ralph Breaks the Internet, recounts a tumultuous time of her youth growing up in 1990s Houston. As the title implies, Pam (Brie Tilton) has to go through the shapes, shades, warts and wont’s of securing an appointment to lose her virginity at age 15. Nearly everything that can comedically go wrong does, along with the sprinklings of interactions with the worst vibe checks boys of the Gen X era can muster.
Like the teenage transition to womanhood, My Year of Dicks is, at times, appropriately excruciating. Originally conceived for episodic broadcast on FX, Gunnarsdóttir mixes visual styles not unlike an experimental web series would, drawing from anime and Adult Swim alike. My Year of Dicks, humorously landing its place in Oscar history by name alone, won’t receive more appreciation than it already commands – but a cute story, wrapped tightly in a bow near invisible in the making, goes a long way when the promised entertainment is begotten by just the sheer mention of, ahem, “Dicks.” -ST
The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse (U.K.)
Starting from the beginning, a boy (Jude Coward Nicoll) and a mole (Tom Hollander) find solace in each other’s company – snow encasing anything they know familiar, stuck in the outside to look for simple comforts. From there joins an untame fox and a curiously mythical horse. Slowly, by biblical pace more so than by weariness, the boy and his growing cohort of creatures set off to discover a home they seem to know nothing about, acknowledging their victory sign may be no clearer than their starting post, dashed and covered in a layer of snowed-out ambiguity.
Based on Mackesy’s own children’s book illustrations, the Apple TV+ short submission goes a long way for voters simply judging by its cover alone. Evoking the charismatic comforts of Winnie the Pooh better the most animated products of the last half century, Baynton and Mackesy find established ground in weening all the self-important hagiographic sayings they can out of the playbook, a 32-minute short denser on morality principles than animal tendencies. If that sounds outside the banner of trustworthy quality, then you’ve found yourself outside the voting body, which lauded the film heavily at this year’s Annie Awards for frontrunning commendation. -ST
The Flying Sailor (Canada)
Animation is far from the only field in which the incomprehensible can be submitted as fact, but it certainly is one of the more audacious options. In the collision of 2D and 3D effects, a story is brought forth a century later – the impact of two fully-barged shipping vessels in Halifax 1917 that caused an impromptu explosion so large, it defied physics and deductive reasoning. A lone sailor, sent coursing miles into the sky, landed near naked, bodily, fully intact in a neighboring district.
For all its duration spent in the heavens above Nova Scotia, The Flying Sailor is capriciously shallow, a work of blanketed humor that singes one of the most traumatic events in recorded Canadian history down to a portly man, flailing nude with exposed penis, silhouetting overhead an endless mass of clouded smoke. It truly does not get more symbolic or understated than that – and so there is little else to note. -ST
The Documentary 2023 Oscar Shorts
Haulout (U.K.)
In this year’s requisite piece of climate change pleading, the siblings Arbugaev film scientist Maxim Chakilev on his journey through the Russian arctic, treading along sheets of ice and terrain in search of the titular ‘haulout’ – a rare, though predictable phenomenon months in the making that roots all of Maxim’s biological studies in a habitat changing before his eyes.
What appears at first to be the account of a northern hermit eventually reveals itself to be a very surreal account of elder traditions continuing in an ecosystem that may not allow them for much longer. Haulout hinges on the reveal of its premise, a uniquely-played shift in tone so sudden it borders on outrageously funny. The surprise is the documentary’s key element – in today’s world, so much scientific warning can only warrant so much shock at the incitement of worsening conditions, even at the furthest reaches of what one could mistake for civilization. ‘They’ don’t seem to happy about the sudden shift of things either… -ST
How Do You Measure a Year (U.S.)
From ages two through 18, experimental filmmaker Rosenblatt films his daughter on the same couch, with the same medium-close camera angle, asking her a script of half-broadstroke, half-maudlin questions concerning personal life, existentialist ideas, future aspirations and youthful tendencies. How Do You Measure a Year? takes a “Rent” quote and uses it to capitalize on an idea any parent would find fun and engaging – to reject nihilism by means of documenting their child’s mental state in real time, a project born out of either a hyperfixed, uncool philosophy, or boredom. One assumes with this filmmaker it’s the former.
Rosenblatt was here last year with one of the most intrepidly thickheaded Oscar shorts in recent memory, When We Were Bullies. His follow-up release doesn’t carry nearly the same broken stigma of a man who can’t read what he’s putting on paper, though it does leave one to wonder why such nuttiness continues unabated. For every incredibly useless question Rosenblatt posits (asking his toddler about societal power), the value of How Do You Measure a Year? seems to come back around, ending on a sentimental going-away note that Rosenblatt surely didn’t predict – for he can’t see the future even half as well as his daughter can evoke the values of the present. -ST
Stranger at the Gate (U.S.)
Seftel takes a camera to Mac McKinney, a war veteran framed as the epitome of anti-terrorism succumbing to his own demons. A former U.S. Marine, Mac details the internal horrors the foreign battlefront left him with, a relentless need to silence the residents of a local mosque, people for which he can see no other face besides the ones the American government has taught him to hate for chapters of his familial growth and defensive experience.
Stranger at the Gate may be among the most controversial of this year’s short film entries, for nothing more than its indecisive carefree inhabitance of ‘we-are-the-world’ hand-holding. Mac McKinney, a burly figure with tattoos aplenty, is given incredible narrative force to speak his mind, often with confounding truthfulness. This is the story of a soldier’s settling moments with his own consciousness, and not so much a lament of the systems that got him there. Where religious freedoms care to spread, Stranger at the Gate is not an assurance that local communities are really following. -ST
The Elephant Whisperers (India)
Bomman and Belli are a loving couple who hold a heralded status in South India, recognized for their skillful tract and familiarity with local wildlife, exotic and unbecoming as they emerge. The Elephant Whisperers focuses on their relationship with one particular orphan Raghu, a curious boy of assumed intelligence who grows resiliently under their protective care. Whether Raghu establishes lived-in roots as one of his own kind is another question, Bomman and Belli taking it upon themselves to prove an ecological service unheard of to their indigenous communities.
The Elephant Whisperers benefits from its cinematography more than anything, decorated production value relayed in the capturing of effervescent colors, splendid close-ups of the childlike mammals in the reserve, guiding a perspective that comes across as more relatable and illuminating to the relationship of pet and owner than Hollywood has been capable of recreating in years past. Don’t let the Netflix-branding fool you from Gonsalves’ cinematic depiction of comforting sensibility, a brokered chronicle of man and animal that alleviates much worry that this year’s documentary field will emotionally overwhelm more than it will sympathize and engross. -ST
The Martha Mitchell Effect (U.S.)
The wife of John Mitchell, the Attorney General and campaign manager for President Richard Nixon, would never tolerate being so simply referred to as just ‘the wife of an Attorney General.’ Martha held esteem through her incredibly vocal appearances, on the press cycles and the talk show circuit alike, speaking her mind aligned to the Republican majority only in shucked responsibility. For Martha was a stronger tabloid than Nixon could even control, embedding herself into the Watergate scandal for better or worse, a woman whose job was never to keep the peace when such unscrupulous leaders were present.
Netflix’s The Martha Mitchell Effect could very easily be mistaken for a network TV expose, if not for the documentary’s consistently enamored takes of Martha’s visage. What Alvergue & McClutchy’s short lacks in political treatise toward anything that couldn’t be found in the most listened-to Spotify podcasts, it mostly accounts for by keeping Martha front-and-center, a figure of emotional and understandable stock, who fought for her beliefs in spite of a politically-dealt decade that would consistently let her down. Whistleblowers have been recounted with more inspiration in recent years, but one could do worse for stories of emblazoned righteousness. -ST
The Live Action 2023 Oscar Shorts
An Irish Goodbye (Ireland)
Following the untimely death of their mother, a young man with Down syndrome and his estranged brother discover her unfulfilled bucket list.
Maybe this will be helped by all the voters who liked Banshees of Inisherin, but not enough to rank it in their first few spots. An Irish Goodbye, has a lot of fecks, moaning, and dry humor. It also has two more great Irish names in Turlough and Lorcan – ironic considering it was directed by a Tom and a Ross. However, despite it’s attempt to balance dark humor and warm feelings, it ends up a bit too saccharine. – RS
Ivalu (Denmark)
Ivalu is gone. Her little sister is desperate to find her and her father does not care. The vast Greenlandic nature holds secrets. Where is Ivalu?
Interestingly, Ivalu is co-directed the director behind Greenland’s first feature film directed by a woman, Anori, which we’ve previously reviewed for FilmRoot. Ivalu also contains a mystery enhanced by the harsh but beautiful Greenlandic landscape. However, it also carries some of Anori‘s flaws – the flashbacks of Ivalu cut with snippets of her sister searching for her, never build up enough suspense for the predictable pay-off. -RS
Le Pupille (Italy, U.S.)
Le Pupille brings you into a Catholic Orphanage during Christmas in the height of the Second World War. Despite the frugal times and strict Mother Superior, the girls find joy in a few magical scenes reminiscent of the wonder of early cinema.
In the Catholic Orphanage, objects are a scarcity. Unlike the often stuffy materialism of today’s modern world, the girls in Le Pupille live in large rooms with very few things around them. The frugality in front of the camera is also seen in the film’s production. Le Pupille was shot completely on film, and therefore all of the special effects are completely VFX free. This gives the film a playful magic that feels like the wonder of the Melies’ silent films. In one scene a baby appears out of thin air (from one shot to the next), whilst a freeze-framed shouting Mother Superior conveys shock from what feels like the kids perspective in another. It’s this simplicity both in front of the camera (with the limited objects and distractions) and behind the camera (in the production process) that makes this short Christmas film feel playful. -RS
Night Ride (Norway)
Night Ride is another Christmas short (I guess Academy members binge their shorts over the Holiday season). It’s premise is mildly amusing: Ebba unwittingly hi-jacks a tram and decides to play out the role of tram driver. However, it quickly takes a very un-festive turn. Just as we’re enjoying some laid back humor, a trans-woman is assaulted right under our noses. Then in an uncomfortable 180, our lead character becomes a ‘hero’ for ‘identifying’ with the assaulted woman.
It’s a shame, because Night Ride starts off pretty humorously. It could have been an enjoyable festive short, but instead chose to use transphobia as a tool to develop the character of the cisgender lead. -RS
The Red Suitcase (Luxembourg)
A veiled 16 year old Iranian teenager is terrified to take her red suitcase from the carousel at the Luxembourg Airport for fear of being identified by her fiancé. Her fear grows with every second in the face of what awaits her beyond the gate.
Like Riz Ahmed’s The Long Goodbye (last year’s winner), Cyrus Neshvad’s The Red Suitcase does a great job of plunging you into a situation and ramping up the tension quickly. It’s not initially clear what the girl is afraid of. The film doesn’t waste time telling you who she is, where she is, or where she’s come from. Instead we learn bits about her through the action. It’s pure chase-thriller and has no excess in its tight 17 minute run time. -RS
Better late than never! Here’s our favorite international films of 2022 which range from an Indian biopic/star vehicle for Alia Bhatt to a trio of +3 hour films from 3 separate continents.
12 of our top 30 were seen at the cinema as the theatrical film experience in 2022 was almost back to normal. New international films are given a pretty decent share of screen space in West Los Angeles, mostly thanks to the efforts of the Laemmle Theaters and The Nuart. There’s also a couple of bigger theater chains such as Cinemark and CGV that screen the latest big releases from the Indian, Korean, and Chinese film industries at a few of their locations. Outside of these theaters, international films also premiered at film festivals across the city such as AFI Fest, PAFF, and LALIFF amongst others. However, whilst most international films were easier to find theatrically, they weren’t easier to find on streamers as the streaming market became more split and the big names focused on U.S. releases vs. continuing to scout new international features. Mubi, Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hoopla, Kanopy, and even Hulu have been streaming a good selection of new international films – we’ll see if HBO Max, Apple TV+, Paramount+, and Peacock join them in 2023.
30 Best International Films of 2022
30. Gangubai Kathiawadi (India)
An Alia Bhatt star vehicle. Gangubai Kathiawadi is the perfect film for her, and she is the perfect fit for Gangubai. Whilst it fails to pull off the conversion of Gangubai from prostitute gangster to feminist icon, its first half is memorable for its quest for vengeance through Mumbai’s criminal underworld. As a bonus, this film features some of the best songs of 2022’s movies.
29. Joyland
Whilst Joyland’s Queer Palm win promises a progressive or unique portrayal of Queerness, the film doesn’t really stretch any boundaries. Haider’s relationship with Biba, the only queer relationship in the film, is sacrificed for a melodramatic finale. However, Joyland is a technically faultless film – something you’d expect from a Cannes winner – and captures the dynamics of the patriarchy in Pakistan memorably.
Sure, the storyline in Eo is a bit clichéd, but there’s a reason why it’s in discussions amongst the best films of 2022: it’s amazing cinematography and sound. The vivid colors and striking sounds turn this Lassie Come Home replay into something that feels much more intense – like a Donkey version of Okja. I only wished the marketers conveyed this intensity in their PR, instead of this comforting image of Eo with carrots around his neck. It’s obviously more for the art-film crowd than for families.
27. Petite Maman (France)
Petite Maman is built around a beautifully mellow sci-fi premise which subtle depicts the fragile relationship between a mother and daughter. Whilst it manages to convey a lot of quaint emotion in its short runtime, it doesn’t celebrate the magic within it. This leaves the film feeling a bit flat to some, but quietly brilliant to others.
26. Argentina, 1985 (Argentina)
This is TheSecret in Their Eyes if it was contained to the world of law. It examines the same historical moment in Argentina through the story of the lawyers that put the government on trial and also features Ricardo Darin. Even though the momentum from the thrilling lead up to the trial fizzles out once the film enters the courtroom, it’s always a pleasure to watch one of Argentina’s most iconic actors in their element.
25. All Quiet on the Western Front (Germany)
This film is for all the fans of inspirational, patriotic war films. It shows the pointless brutality of war – crossing shocking violence alongside the bland bureaucracy that prolongs it. It also has a soundtrack that serves a similar purpose to a smoke-alarm running out of battery – its unpredictable, sudden loud drones make it un-ignorable. It prevents you from getting comfortable with all of the horrors present in this war film.
24. Murina (Croatia)
A psychological coming of age movie that features some extreme anxiety inducing scenes. The beautiful Adriatic coast masks the strained family relationships between Julija and her parents – a misogynistic dad and a fragile mother. The arrival of a foreign businessman with an ambiguous background and fortune brings the allure of an alternate future for Julija, but pits her against her family and everyone else against each other.
23. Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths (Mexico)
Genius at times and pretentious at others made Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths one of the most divisive movies of the year. Whichever side you fall on, there should at least be a universal appreciation of its originality. The sets and cinematography and the weird images they come together to create make this film brilliantly unique.
22. Il Buco (Italy)
Il Buco’s stunning landscape shots will push you to add Calabria to your travel wish lists. It follows a group of explorers in the 1960s as they descend into one of the World’s deepest caves in Southern Italy. It’s meditative pace, without any subtitled dialogue and natural sounds, creates a simpler world to contrast with the modern skyscrapers being built in Northern Italy. Il Buco is an ode to the eternal, calm beauty that nature and a simple life offer.
21. Happening (France)
Happening follows a similar path to Never, Really, Sometimes, Always. Like Autumn in the latter film, we join teenage Anne in the early 1960s as she finds out she’s pregnant and follow her quest to end her unwanted pregnancy. However, unlike Never, Really, Sometimes, Always abortion is illegal in the entire country, and Anne is forced to the underground for help. It’s also a little more raw, making it a harder, deliberately more uncomfortable watch.
20. Wet Sand (Georgia)
After Eliko is found hanged in a quiet village on the Georgian Black Sea, his granddaughter Moe comes to organize his funeral. Whilst Moe expects to be in and out of the village quickly, she’s confronted by a web of lies. The more time she spends in the village, the more secrets she finds. As with the best Iranian dramas (see Man of Integrity of A Hero), the tension builds and builds until something has to give.
19. Tug of War (Tanzania)
Tug of War is a beautifully shot, anti-colonial Tanzanian film inspired by Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love. It features sumptuously warm cinematography, a slow burning romance, and a fight for independence. The only criticism is that it may borrow a little too much from its obvious influences.
In Saint Omer a novelist attends the trial of a woman that killed her 15-month old daughter by abandoning her to the rising tide on a beach in Northern France. The more time our protagonist (and the audience) listens to the killer, the more drawn to her we are. Like the best classic horror films, Saint Omer draws on dread and hidden fears – in this case a fear of motherhood and fear of ones own violent capabilities. It’s a brilliant addition to the legendary tales of La Llorona and Rusalkia.
17. Great Freedom (Germany)
At the end of the Second World War, Hans is moved from the Nazi concentration camps to the prisons of Post-War Germany because of his homosexuality. Over the next few decades, he’s repeatedly imprisoned for his sexuality, but he manages to find some slim semblance of freedom and love in the prisons which is always cut short outside of them. Great Freedom is one of the best prison dramas you can watch.
16. Ponniyin Selvan: Part One (India)
The downside of Ponniyin Selvan: Part One is it’s a long set-up for what should be an incredible sequel. Despite this, the upsides are still numerous: the AR Rahman soundtrack, the Game of Thrones conniving and conspiring against the King, and shots of Southern India and South East Asia are just a few examples. Make sure you watch this film now before the hype arrives with the release of part two.
15. Leonor Will Never Die (Philippines)
Leonor falls into a coma when a television lands on her head, sending her into a dimension that floats between her dreams and reality. It becomes a story within a story as Leonor enters her own unfinished B-movie action script to fulfill her own hero’s journey. Leonor will Never Die is an endearingly quirky ode to the simple fun of 80’s action films.
14. Alcarras (Spain)
What Alcarras does brilliantly is tell a very specific local story in order to highlight how capitalism is affecting not just the Sole family, but the local community and many other people around the globe. It’s set completely in one small municipality in Spain centered one family, all played by non-actors from similar backgrounds to the family on screen, living on one farm. Whilst a multi-family or multi-country film might fail to generate sympathy for it’s characters because of it’s broad scope, Alcarras, in spending time with one family in one region, gives the audience more time and closeness to sympathize with not just them, but everyone negatively affected by capitalism around the world.
Mahamat Saleh-Haroun is one of the most brilliantly consistent directors working today. Every one of his films focuses on Chadian’s facing dilemmas, and all are extremely grounded because of the patient pacing of each of his films. Lingui: The Sacred Bonds follows Amina, a single mother helping her daughter seek an abortion when its condemned by both religion in law. Unlike Happening or Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always their journey is shared and not carried out alone, allowing for their bond to grow in the extreme circumstances.
12. Night of Knowing Nothing (India)
Night of Knowing Nothing combines reality with fiction, fantasies, memories, and a range of experimental plots, to create one of the most interesting protest documentaries of recent years. The narrative follows, L, a fictional university student writing letters to her lover. Their unravelling relationship, partly due to their caste differences, runs alongside documentary footage of student protests and police violence, and in doing so, becomes a metaphor for the country’s decline.
11. Bantu Mama (Dominican Republic)
Bantu Mama looks like your typical Film Festival fare, but it’s propelled by a brilliant soundtrack of regional African music and Dominican trap. Both genres mesh together to represent the cultural dialogue with Africa that Emma, the French-Cameroonian fugitive, opens to the Afro-Latino children that shelter her. The Pan-African cultural dialogue they create make Bantu Mama unique. It’s a lean, music-powered cultural exchange linking the underworld of the Dominican Republic to Africa.
Clara Sola is the year’s most subtle anti-colonialist film. It follows Clara’s awakening as she frees herself from her conservative Christian family in remote Costa Rica to embrace the indigenous roots of her miraculous powers. It uses colors and nature brilliantly to depict her gradual awakening from society and its colonial inherited culture.
There wasn’t a more entertaining film than RRR in 2022. Whilst other Indian and American films tried to capture out-do each other with more ridiculous action scenes, RRR threw 3 or 4 of the top action sequences of the year into it’s 3 hour run time. Sure, it could be described as nationalist and the villains are cliched, and yes the CGI isn’t perfect, but it’s pure entertainment with a bromance for the ages.
Saloum is a high energy genre film that creates a team of mythical African revolutionaries and pits them against a paranormal ambush. Whilst this may seem like a ridiculous plot, it never feels it. Everything we need to know is told on the go and each of the three main characters feel like they have a long backstory which gives the film credibility. The only disappointment is it ends as quickly as it starts, leaving you wanting more.
7. No Bears (Iran)
For a film that holds no punches in attacking censorship and freedom of movement, Panahi’s latest is a joy to watch. It’s filled with a dry humor that pokes fun of the establishment whilst retaining a serious message. Just as much as this, No Bears is also a testament to the filmmaking drive of Jafar Panahi. No matter how many restrictions are imposed against him, he’s continued to make films and inspire others. We hope he, and the Iranian filmmakers imprisoned with him earlier this year will be released and the filmmaking bans rescinded.
Decision to Leave is one of the best modern noirs we’ve seen, complete with a very normal romance, at least in comparison to the director’s other movies. The brilliance in the film comes from the little things, such as the humorous clues of a brewing romance (including expensive sushi), and a hilarious way to take part in a knife fight. Park Chan-wook also uniquely meshes two shots into one to more efficiently convey the detective process. These innovative scenes along with the injections of humor make Decision to Leave immensely engaging to watch.
5. Girl Picture (Finland)
If you’re a fan of Booksmart, Girlhood, or even Worst Person in the World you should try this cute but not shallow coming of age movie from Finland. Whilst there are plenty of similar films, Girl Picture feels more natural and humble because it contains more depth to the dialogue between best friends Ronkko and Mimmi, and Mimmi’s young relationship with Emma.
4. Rewind & PLay (France)
Rewind and Play is an incredibly uncomfortable example of how the Black experience has been written out of history. Alain Gomis digs up the outtakes from an interview Thelonious Monk did with French state television in 1969. It reveals that behind what perhaps appeared to be a simple profile of a Jazz musician, is a heavily edited, whitewashed version of one of the genres largest names. His talent and experience is deliberately reduced to a few stereotypical nuggets to fit a white European audience.
A couple of years ago, Frederick Wiseman released City Hall, a long documentary that showed viewers footage from all parts of Boston’s city government to give a fairly complete view of what it is like to work in local government. Similarly, Maria Speth’s Mr Bachmann and His Class, spends 3.5 hours in and around Mr Bachmann’s class to give you the experience of being a fly on the wall in a German middle school. What makes it great is that its not just any class; Mr Bachmann’s is composed of migrant children adapting to Germany and Mr Bachmann’s unconventional methods (including heavy metal rehearsals).
2. Memoria (Colombia/Thailand)
At the opposite end of the cinematic experience spectrum from RRR is Memoria. It is just as necessary to watch this film in the cinema, and it may be the only place we’ll ever be able to see it as it continues its theatrical rollout. Like other Apichatpong Weerasethakul films, Memoria‘s plot is intangible. It’s not a film you follow easy; instead it gently guides you towards a calm ecstasy. Watching Memoria in the movie theater is a spiritual experience.
1. Trenque Lauquen (Argentina)
If you’re ready to sit down for a few hours to indulge yourself in some cosy, trivial Argentine mysteries, meet the latest film from El Pampero Cine, Trenque Lauquen. Like La Flor and Extraordinary Stories, Trenque Lauquen is indulgent storytelling. It’s as if the filmmakers of El Pampero Cine have been challenging each other to come up with new quirky mysteries to keep audiences interested for longer periods of time. Each of their films is like following a maze or river cruise full of pleasant surprises. Serious things happen in these films, but because of the relaxed tone, it never feels real-world serious. They’re there to simply entertain and nothing more, and they do this better than anyone else in the industry.
HONORABLE MENTIONS FOR BEST INTERNATIONAL FILMS OF 2022:
Pada (India), Inu-oh (Japan), Holy Spider (Iran), Monica, O My Darling (India), The Tsugua Diaries (Portugal), The Great Movement (Bolivia), Excess Will Save Us (France), Fire in the Mountain (India), Vikram (India)
If you think we’ve missed a film from a list that you think is one of the best international films of 2021, please get in touch on Twitter or by email.
Clara Sola is one of two Latin American films from 2022 that had a memorably anti-colonialist ending. The other, Bantu Mama, features a French-African tourist turned fugitive in the Dominican Republic that escapes to sanctuary in Africa after feeling a connection to her African roots. Clara Sola follows Clara’s awakening as she frees herself from conservative Christianity to embrace the indigenous roots of her powers.
Clara is imprisoned by a purple flag marked boundary around the small house she lives in with her mother and niece in the remote Costa Rican countryside. She’s closely protected by her mother for her miraculous god-given powers, that were apparently bestowed to her by an apparition of the Virgin Mary. Her fame for healing routinely brings people from across the country to her house for her blessings, as well as much needed donations that seem to be the main source of income for the three of them. At the beginning, Clara is content to follow her mother’s lead, staying within the purple flagged boundary marked for her and taking part in the religious ceremonies she’s the main attraction of. However, the arrival of Santiago prompts a sexual awakening that reconnects her to the true nature of her powers.
Colors are present from the start in the purple flags flying on the poles marking Clara’s boundary. In the opening scene, she’s beckoning her white horse named Yuca, to come to her from the other side of the boundary line. The natural white color of Yuca signify freedom, whereas purple signifies Clara’s confinement. It’s notable that the only other time purple appears in the film is after Clara tries to dye her pink dress blue, to match the blue quincenera dress of her niece. She’s trying to break free from the conservative baby pink (and her babying mother) to experience the freedom of the attractive blue dress of her niece, but ends up stuck with the same purple that marks her restricted world. It’s a moment in which she realizes that no matter how much she tries to be like her niece, she’ll never be her. It sets in motion her wish to escape.
Colors also confuse Clara. She’s drawn to both artificial and natural colors, even though both aren’t leading her in the right direction. The artificial colors of her niece’s blue dress draw her to Santiago and a ‘normal life.’ She’s pictured in the dress in her happiest moments with Santiago. However, like the artificial lights illuminating her smile as she’s driven home by Santiago one night, the blue dress symbolizes an unsustainable happiness. She’s only truly free in the moments she’s with nature – with natural colors – whether that be the lights of the fire-flies, the white coat of Yuca, or the greens and blues of the trees and river. The nature accepts her and understands her. They allow her to be free unlike the family and community that imprison her physically and spiritually.
In breaking free from her family and community, Clara breaks free from the conservative Christianity that imprisoned her, the descendant of Spanish Colonialism. In returning to the forest, she’s returning to her indigenous roots.
What to Watch Next
For more Latin American coming of age films, try Alba and Aurora. The former follow a daughter living with her single dad trying to navigate the awkwardness of puberty and school. The latter follows a pregnant teenager that finds support in a teacher. You can also try Ixcanul, which follow an indigenous woman in Guatemala.
Or for a dark, magical coming of age story in the vein of Black Swan, try Joachim Trier’s Thelma.
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