Notturno

Notturno is a beautifully shot documentary. It’s clear that each shot has been carefully set up and framed. For example, the shots of the first protagonist of the documentary, a man traveling to his hidden canoe to go hunting, are incredibly well lit in low light. He paddles out into the darkness with the reds of the night sky burning in the background. And that’s right after the shots of him on his motorbike riding to the lake, with oil rigs spurting flames behind him. This film is full of incredible images of the borderlands between Syria, Iraq, Kurdistan, and Lebanon.

However, because it’s so well shot, the documentary kind of feels a bit staged. Everything shot feels like it has been planned. It feels like the director, Gianfranco Rosi, has asked the people he’s shooting to wait for him to set up the camera before they move around, as his camera captures them so perfectly from a distance. He seems to know where they’re going. So even if it’s not that obvious, you can feel the faint presence of the director slightly disrupting their lives which makes Notturno feel less natural.

Because you can feel the director’s gaze, Notturno also feels a bit exploitative at times. The shots of poverty and buildings in ruin are what western eyes expect to see from the war torn Middle East. These images are complemented by a few displays of trauma from mothers who’ve lost their children and children who have lost their mothers. They’re opportunities to tug on the heartstrings of western audiences and emphasize the tragic cycle of war the region is stuck in. But these images don’t always feel organic. The scene with the children running through their memories feels more like the rehearsals for a local stage show that appear in the movie. Both are designed and practiced to illicit an emotional response.

That being said, the film does offer something western audiences might not expect to see: the empty silence of the borderlands. Instead of ISIS and armies, the majority of the shots feature vast open spaces explored by a few local hunters. Soldiers watch the landscape, but nothing happens. There are of course the signs of war, but no evidence of it existing in the present. As a result, it feels a bit like the photographer’s quest to shoot the Franco-Mexican War in Towards the Battle and Robert Fisk’s search for the Middle Eastern front lines in This is Not A Movie. Rosi has arrived in a war torn region to perhaps shoot the war, but the war has disappeared. Instead he finds an empty land waking up to be interpreted by his own gaze.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.

Rival

Rival starts with death. There’s the first opening flash forward featuring a shot of Roma, a approximately 9 year old boy, grabbing a gun in answer to someone knocking at the door. Then there’s the second opening with Roman burying a dead bird before attending an older relative’s funeral. It’s an ominous sign of things to come. It’s clear Rival is not going to be an upbeat family drama.

Before there’s time to grieve, Roman is bundled into the back of a van and taken to Germany to live with his mother. She’s been in Germany taking care of an elderly woman (who has recently passed away) as an undocumented worker. Problem for Roman is that the older woman’s widow is survived by her partner Gert, an old German man that has fallen in love with his mum. Roman has to compete with Gert for his mother’s love.

The relationships between Roman and his Mum, and Roman and Gert are pretty all of nothing. They’re either hyper energetically playful: chasing each other around the house laughing and pulling faces, or they’re shouting and roaring at each other. It reminded me a bit of the similarly high energy relationship between the mother and son in Xavier Dolan’s Mommy. It just feels like something is going to go badly wrong, like when Roman tries to poison Gert by spiking his afternoon tea.

Their uneasy relationships are complemented by the elements of the horror genre that are intertwined into the images. There’s Gert’s sinister eyebrows (that are a bit like Nosferatu’s Dracula) and the shots of him being injected with insulin. Then there’s the moving door handle at night when Roman is sleeping with his mum (a door which is later locked to subdue Roman). The eerie music, which features plenty of high piano notes, underscores the influence of horror on Rival, positioning Gert as the pretty unpredictable and untrustworthy villain.

If you’re looking for a bleak family drama which promises many things that go horribly wrong, check out Rival. You’re guaranteed to find something depressingly shocking.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.

Dadli

Dadli Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

Dadli features a boy’s narrative over a montage of shots of Antiguan life. It’s a brief but incredibly immersive 15 minutes in Antigua & Barbuda that any fans of Jonas Mekas and Khalil Joseph should love.

From: Antigua & Barbuda, North America
Watch: Vimeo, IMDb
Next: Process, Reminiscences of a Journey to Lithuania, Right Near the Beach

Dadli – The Breakdown

Dadli is short, but it doesn’t need time to build its beautifully immersive aesthetic. The quick editing and dulled diegetic sound (the music and narrative are the focus in this film) don’t allow you to think of anything else apart from the images and atmospheric sounds you are hearing, whilst the natural home video style texture of the film – which is taken to the next level with the cinematography – and the mid to close range shots draw you in further. This combination of techniques makes it feel both immersive and intimate – as if you are experiencing a Fast-Forwarded snippet of life on the island. The texture of the film even sweats the close-mugginess of the night, the warm melancholy of the sunsets, and laid back vibrancy of daytime. It feels like you’re there. Whilst other movies capture island life over the course of a feature film, Dadli manages to do it in a compact 15 minutes.

The young boy’s narrative is what separates the immersive style of Dadli from Khalil Joseph’s art-films and music videos. He’s a kid playing an adult – with no role models or parents. He talks of murder, drugs, and poverty, giving us an ‘underground tour’ of the island. However, his narrative never feels completely believable, which makes the film feel like it could be a twisted fantasy or exaggerated memory (of the brief adult narration) instead of a harsh reality. The fleeting shots of the montage helps to blur the distinction between fantasy and reality, turning it into an even more trance-like, immersive experience.

If you’re a fan of movies that use sound and editing to immerse viewers into an environment, you should watch Dadli. It creates a feeling of life on Antigua that you probably wouldn’t experience as a tourist or visitor.

What to Watch Next

For more immersive films that rely on sound, check out Khalil Joseph’s catalogue of music films such as Process (featuring Sampha) and Good Kid m.A.A.d City (featuring Kendrick Lamar). Both, like Dadli create a strong sense of place through the editing and sound of their movies.

You could also try the films of Jonas Mekas, such as Reminiscences of a Journey to Lithuania and Lost, Lost, Lost. These films use home-video style footage and quick editing to immerse viewers into the narrators stories.

Or for more immersive editing from the Caribbean, try Jamaica’s Right Near the Beach.

The Endless Cycle

Last year at the start of the pandemic, discrimination against African immigrants in the Chinese city of Guangzhou hit the international news circuit. A McDonalds branch refused to serve Black people in the city, there were reports of Black students being evicted from their accommodations, and there were reports of a Nigerian man attacking a Chinese nurse. It’s within this context that The Endless Cycle is set, featuring a Ghanaian immigrant in Guangzhou. The opening scene addresses the tension straight away with the protagonist watching the Chinese news report on the Nigerian man that attacked a Chinese nurse.

The Endless Cycle feels like a documentary in the way that we follow the main character’s everyday life. It features the monotonous tasks in his routine, such as cycling from place to place, Face-Timing friends and relatives, and working at the office. There’s not much dialogue either to make it feel more like a drama. In his routine, we get a glimpse into life in COVID era China where temperature checks and QR code tracking are just part of the new paradigm. It looks more normal than quarantine life elsewhere in the world, making it interesting to see for the American viewer.

However, the documentary style is a bit misleading as there are some scenes which are obviously dramatized, such as the scenes between the main character and his boss’ kid at work. The dialogue in these scenes feels more forced and unnatural. The most obvious example of this is the Taxi Driver scene which ends in him fighting a taxi driver in the road. What is probably meant to highlight the prejudice against Black people in China (with the taxi driver’s avoiding him) ends up supporting ignorant stereotypes of Black male aggression and thereby ruining the otherwise interesting portrayal of the Black experience in China. It also damages the credibility of other scenes that we may have otherwise trusted. Because of the obvious dramatization in certain scenes, it feels like this is probably more of a Chinese perspective of the Black experience in China.

Therefore if you’re looking for a film which shows a Chinese perspective of the Black experience in China, The Endless Cycle is worth a watch. However, if you’re looking for a movie about the Black experience in China told by a Black person, The African Who Wanted to Fly might be the closest you can get.


Check our Pan African Film Festival 2021 page for more reviews coming out of the 29th edition of the festival.

I’m No Longer Here Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

If you’re looking for an entry point into the Cholombiano sub culture of Monterrey, you’ve come to the right place. I’m No Longer Here has the cumbia music, the dance crews, the slang, and the unique haircuts. The narrative bounces between Monterrey and New York as it follows Ulises from leading a crew in his Mexican hometown, to his new exile in New York to escape the gangs he was mistakenly mixed up in. In New York, he never fits in. He’s only at peace when he’s listening to cumbia or dancing. Otherwise, he’s alone in a world where local Latinos make fun of him and where the Americans that like him can’t communicate with him. Tune in for the music, dancing, and ‘fish out of water’ immigrant experience.

From: Mexico, North America
Watch: Trailer, Netflix
Next: Wild Style, Los Lobos, Sin Nombre