To help you ease your way into our world, we have devised a the film difficulty ranking system to rate the difficulty of each film reviewed on our site. The easiest to watch films (the Rom-Coms and Superhero flicks that you watch anyway) will have a rating of 1. Foreign language films automatically add one point, as do black and white films, and films with strange and hard to follow plots. Welcome to Film Difficulty 3.
Film Difficulty Ranking 3: More of a challenge for those familiar with foreign films. Level 3 is like a mix between an intriguing European mime artist and your most interesting and demanding school teacher.
Pornomelancholia is a slow paced character study of a up-and-coming porn star navigating the Mexican porn industry. It has plenty of dry humor and an underlying commentary on social media culture.
The film starts with a mid-range shot of Lalo standing alone by a busy street in the city. People walk past him and cars pass behind him as we watch him peer around. It seems like he’s waiting for someone or taking a breather in a chaotic day. However, before the shot lingers further, Lalo breaks down into a soft sob as the title credits pop up: Pornomelancholia. It’s a prelude for the critique of superficial influencer-culture that Lalo uses to make his way into the porn industry.
Lalo is portrayed as a lonely man parading as a popular sex icon. His Instagram videos hide the fact that he works in a small factory with two other people that he hardly talks to. His confidence in his sexuality online contradicts his inability to come out to his family – shown in the rehearsed voice messages he can’t bring himself to send to his mother. It follows films such as Sweat in showing that the digital lives promoted by influencers don’t always reflect reality.
Despite the underlying commentary, there is dry humor in Pornomelancholia. This is probably the only film that you can watch that is built around a Zapata led Mexican revolution porn film. It also probably runs on for too much of the film, but the pornographic shots, which linger for more than expected are designed to make you awkwardly uncomfortable (like Lalo himself). The sex scenes are provocative, but not as outrightly as another Mexican festival film – Battle in Heaven.
Overall, if you’re looking for a slow-paced festival film that follows a gay man working his way into the porn industry, Pornomelancholia is worth a watch. Whilst the culture fostered by the industry and Lalo is portrayed as fake, his journey feels unique, real and believable.
Honestly, before I saw The Pink Cloud, I thought that The Dog Who Wouldn’t be Quiet was the best film related to the pandemic that I’d seen at Sundance. But then I saw The Pink Cloud. Like Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion, it’s amazing to watch something reflect reality so well before that reality comes into place. And before you ask, this film was written in 2017, way before COVID times.
In the case of The Pink Cloud, Giovanna and Yago’s one night stand turns into a long quarantine together as an unknown pink cloud of poisonous gases shrouds the city. Anyone who steps outside for more than 10 seconds dies from the pink gases. Other people less lucky that Giovanna and Yago are stuck in supermarkets and other public buildings. It’s also not just their city in Brazil that is affected either, as like the big Hollywood disaster movies, the news shows a montage of cities around the world with the same ominous pink clouds hovering over them. Like the current pandemic, everyone is forced to adjust quickly to a new life.
After it sets up the premise, The Pink Cloud focuses on Giovanna and Yago’s relationship stuck together throughout the indefinitely long quarantine. As time progresses, the bucket lists from their single lives become a checklist of things to do in a relationship. They start doing chores, cook and eat with each other, and talk about their future together. The allure and excitement that initially drew them together fades as the permanence of their new life inside sets in. As this happens, the allure of the outside, and nature, represented in the pink cloud grows. Slow montages of the cloud frame it as pretty and tempting. Then the cloud starts to be shot with a slow zoom as if the characters are being drawn to it when they look outside. Now that they’re stuck inside, the everyday world they’d taken for granted becomes alluring. It’s a reversal of their relationship which goes from desire to boredom.
Maybe if there wasn’t a worldwide pandemic right now that mirrors The Pink Cloud’s narrative, it would resonate differently. Perhaps it would have been viewed as a warning to climate change deniers, or to those taking life for granted. In it’s current context, the quarantine comparisons are hard to avoid. It’s one of the most accurate portrayals of a relationship on lockdown.
If you’re looking for a provocative transcendental film that captures a mother’s existential crisis you’ve come to the right place. Beginning uses slow pacing and a classic film look to shock Yana’s humble existence within a Jehovah’s Witness community in rural Georgia to the core. As her peace is shockingly disrupted, she’s forced to reevaluate her life as a mother as part of her remote community.
Beginning follows Yana, a failed TV actress that has been ‘saved’ from the entertainment industry by her religious husband. She’s taken on some of the responsibilities that are expected of a mother in a Georgian Jehovah’s Witness community but always looks like an outsider within an outcast community. As religious extremists infringe on their world and corrupt, power hungry detectives stalk the group, Yana’s small bubble begins to collapse with shocking consequences.
The most noticeable feature of Beginning is the film’s look. It’s grounded in the foundations of transcendental film, using takes that linger longer than you expect. These long takes force you to watch minute of ‘dead time’ in which the character’s aren’t doing much. It’s also shot on 35mm at a 1:33 aspect ratio, which eschews width and the modern look of digital film for the narrower and grainier classic film. The character this adds to the film heightens the dramatic long takes by eliminating the distractions of a widescreen aspect ratio whilst giving the film a more epic, classical look. The long takes and film style both set up the shocking images that are scattered through the film (such as the church on fire). Within the context of the high amount of ‘dead time’ and narrower, grainier film, these images are even more of a surprise. They look more powerful, like a piece of classical art in an empty museum. Beginning practices serenity to make these few chaotic moments feel even more disruptive.
The film’s style mimics Yana’s inner self. Her life is mostly peaceful; working with the kids in the community and raising her son. This is emphasized in the many moments of peace on screen – such as a very long shot of her lying, eyes shut in the woods. However, these serene moments are punctuated by moments of chaos that cast doubt on her otherwise serene life, signifying her existential crisis. Despite her family ties, she appears more and more uncomfortable with her life as an outsider living within an outsider community. The uncertainty surrounding the terrorist attacks isolates the community even further from Georgian society whilst the suspicious detective isolates her even more from her family. She’s questioned by her husband and feels more distant from her son as he grows to resemble him. In her existential crisis, the chaotic moments, emphasized by the film’s style, offer her a twisted olive branch to free herself from both the community and her family.
What to Watch Next
If you’re looking for more brooding films that patiently unravel, check out Oliver Laxe’s Fire Will Come. It features the return of a notorious arsonist to his small hometown in Galicia where he is treated with scorn whilst he tries to adapt to his new life. You could also try Loveless by Andrey Zvyagintsev, a slow burn thriller that captures another mother uncertain about motherhood and her role within her family.
Or for more great films from Georgia, try Taming the Garden. It’s a slow paced documentary that highlights the wealth inequality in the country through a billionaires tree theft.
Time-travel is a key ingredient of some of Hollywood’s biggest blockbusters. It holds an unnatural power to change the future and the past, adding the driving plot behind the Back to the Future and Terminator series from the 1980s and a few modern Christopher Nolan films. Over in Italy, Alice Rohrwacher has mastered the ability to use time-travel naturally. Instead of using it as the driving force of the plot and drama, it is the icing on the cake. She has combined time-travel with wholly Italian influences; De Sica’s Neo-realism and Fellini’s Surrealism, to make her own fantastic style.
La Chimera starts with a dream. Sepia-tinted snippets of a woman in a garden evokes the feeling of warm nostalgia. The dream is interrupted by a train conductor asking for tickets, which introduces us to our dreamer: Arthur, played by Josh O’Connor. He picks out a very old looking train ticket the size of a postcard and his train-cabin-mates pick up on his unusual accent and ask where he comes from. “Far,” is his one-worded answer, coding the mystery of his character.
So who is Arthur, and has he come from another era? He doesn’t reveal anything obvious on the train. It’s not clear where he’s going or coming from, and as per his one-worded answer in the paragraph above, we don’t know who he is or where he is from either. A few puzzle pieces are inferred from the following scenes, but these do not give us a complete picture. We find out that:
He’s English
He’s been in jail – likely as the fall guy for a troubadour group of associates
He’s looking for a woman
He has a special skill at finding treasures from the past
Whilst these attributes build his character, they also all add to his mysteriousness by leading to new questions:
Why is an Englishman in rural Italy with a group of grave-robbers?
What led to his capture and was he turned in?
Who is he looking for and what happened to them?
How did he get his supernatural skill?
This mystery makes him appear like he’s been picked up from another world and time and plonked into rural Italy.
Time-travel has popped up before in Alice Rohrwacher’s films. In her previous feature, Happy as Lazzaro, the titular character falls from a great height, blacks out, and reappears in a modern era, portaling from his previous life in feudal Italy. Whilst the time-travel is more metaphorical than literal, Rohrwacher makes the jump more believable by situating Lazzaro (the lead character) in a location stuck in the past; a small rural Italian town with old, decaying houses, no modern infrastructure, and no signs of modern technology, before transporting him to the modern city. The town that Arthur finds himself in is exactly the same setting as Lazzaro’s decaying town. His house is a DIY shack on the outside of the town wall, he visits the crumbling house of his lost lover, and electronic screens and electricity itself are practically non-existent. This setting, combined with Arthur’s mystery makes viewers accustomed to Rohrwacher’s films feel like Arthur is from another era and place, and has got lost in old-town Italy whilst searching for his lost love.
Conclusion
If the time-travel and mystery haven’t already sold you on watching La Chimera, know that watching La Chimera is like watching a bubbling pot of Italian Cinema influences whilst witnessing a new talent find their stylistic voice. There’s pieces of De Sica’s neo-realism in the poverty-stricken characters and tough world they exist in, fragments of Antonioni’s mood-driven mystery in their vague backgrounds and existence, and a large chunk of Fellini’s surrealism and panache in the bombastic scenes and cinematic magic. Rohrwacher in La Chimera manages to bring together all these influences whilst building on the natural time-travel of Happy as Lazzaro, forming her own style from the embers of the Italian classics.
Boniface “Softie” Mwangi was drawn to political activism during his time photographing the post election violence in 2007. Now, he’s running for office in a regional Kenyan election. To succeed, he has to radically change a democracy tainted by corruption, violence, and mistrust. This documentary follows his journey as he campaigns to reform Kenyan politics whilst struggling to hold his family together.
Unlike other political documentaries like Knock Down the House and The Great Hack where Western viewers might have a bit of familiarity with the focus (the Democratic “Blue Wave” of the 2018 House elections and the Cambridge Analytica controversy respectively), Softie’s story is unknown. Western media rarely covers the political protests and uprisings in Africa – especially sub-Saharan Africa where pro-U.S. dictators reside. Therefore, Softie has to do a bit more than these other films to get you up to speed with Kenyan politics. Luckily Boniface’s life is a kind of awakening to the national political situation, so this is covered within his story – his life as a photographer led him to political activism, and his political activism led him to run in the elections. The filmmakers concisely fill in the gaps – British colonialism creating a nation governed by tribalism – to flesh out a more complete picture.
The majority of Softie takes place during his campaign for office. It documents a lot of the day to day tasks of campaigning much like Kazuhiro Soda’s Campaign – from handing out flyers and greeting locals to securing funds to keep it going. However it’s not quite as focused on just the campaign, as we also follow Boniface’s wife (Njeri) and children on a personal level as they bounce between Kenya and the U.S. to escape death threats. It feels like we have almost unrestricted access to both Boniface and Njeri’s personal lives. Boniface first tells Njeri of his goal to run for office on camera (her reaction gives that away) and we’re often closer to Njeri and their children in the U.S. than Boniface is in Kenya making it feel like we know their emotions better than their other halves. It almost feels like we’re the relationship mediator between them at times. This personal, emotional layer emphasizes the challenges of trying to build a family whilst focused on your career, allowing us to empathize with them much more.
The other negative plus that Softie has on the U.S. political documentaries is that the political situation in Kenya is more immediately dangerous than those in Knock Down the House and The Great Hack. Boniface’s life always feels in danger of being extinguished by his political rivals, as journalists and people linked to the voting systems are murdered whilst his story is told. The higher stakes make this film more urgent and tense. It sometimes feels like we’re watching a hagiography of someone that will be martyred.
If you’re looking for an observational documentary that follows a political activist trying to change a corrupt system by running for government and the effects this has on their family, Softie is the film for you.
You must be logged in to post a comment.