Paris, 13th District

If you’re a secret fan of love triangles but actually an art-house film snob, Paris 13th District is for you. You have your art-house credentials, with Jacques Audiard directing and Celine Sciamma writing, as well as a smooth black and white film. But you also have a light, free-flowing script with lots of sex that doesn’t slow down, making it an easy watch for anyone wanting to tune out.

Paris 13th District isn’t deep. There doesn’t appear to be any hidden subtext to either of the character’s narratives. Some of the scenes even feel a little contrived, particularly the scene in a university lecture hall in which all of the students start watching videos of a chat room girl and making fun of Nora for looking just like her. In an otherwise relatable film of 20-30 somethings, this scene stands out – making you think that the writers might actually be a bit out of touch with the young adult’s reality. But luckily the depth isn’t needed thanks to the lightness of the film. It flows so smoothly that you won’t have time to think about why it was made.

The lightness comes from a range of things. Firstly, there’s the clean simplicity of the black and white film that takes away any noise. This is supported by the simple soundtrack with synth bursts that cleanly separate the breaks between each narrative. Secondly, there’s the free characters. Even though each one has their own problems – Emilie has family drama, Nora is bullied, and Camille has his own grief – they never feel serious. Instead they appear free to do anything they like – each one quickly changes their career as if it were starting a new day. Camillie suddenly becomes a real-estate agent after dropping out of his masters, Nora starts her law degree in her 30’s before dropping out to rejoin a career in sales, and Emilie doesn’t even feel burdened to work. Their free-flowing careers comes across as a bit of a jab at millennials from the older screenwriters of the film. All of them are played as fragile characters that change their mind and lack commitment. However, it does make the film feel lighter – they all live in a city in which their troubles don’t feel that serious and in which they can change their direction in an instant.

So if you’re looking for a light relationship drama with art-house credentials, Paris 13th District is worth a watch. Whilst it’s arguably a bit out of touch, it is an easy watch for anyone looking for a break from the more challenging film festival fare.


Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.

Medusa

Medusa is another genre-bending movie set in contemporary Brazil (see Bacurau, Good Manners, Executive Order, or Divine Love) that corresponds with the rise in the far right and radical Christianity in Brazil. The focus of this film is on how the patriarchy is upheld by radical Christian women

In modern day Brazil, a woman watches a sexy music video of a woman dancing on her way home on the night bus. When she gets off, she’s tailed by a gang of masked women. She tries to escape, but can’t. They gang up on her, beat her up, and force her to swear fealty to Jesus and to become a good Christian woman.

The attackers are Mariana and her female friends from the local evangelical church. Their horror-genre influenced masks are obviously intimidating. However, behind the mask they’re even more sinister. Instead of carrying faces that show years of trauma and fear they carry pristine smiles and clean pastel clothes. They look like a group of preppy high-school girls and not like your typical group of thugs. Their smiles and matching identity give them a cold collective assuredness that their violence is right and justified, when it isn’t. It also highlights a lack of individuality stemming from the strict codes of their social bubble – no one wants to stand out for fear of being identified with the other, so they all try to one-up each other in their devotional acts in order to maintain their social position. They’ve already started beating up people in the street, so what are they capable of next?

The design of the film makes it clear Mariana is brainwashed by her bubble of existence. The church she attends with her friends is flavored with hypnotizing 80’s music and dystopian neon lights and features coordinated song and dance routines that make them look robotic. Plus the microphone holding, slick talking, smartly dressed preacher gives off hints of snake oil salesmen before we see his ‘miracles.’ The whole radical Christian experience is designed to indoctrinate Mariana and her friends. Plus as a reward, they get friends like them, and corresponding male counterparts in the beefy ‘Watchmen’ group that attends their same church.

Problem is they can’t control everything in their own lives. They’re still victims to the patriarchy that plays them – both represented in the male religious pastor they fervently follow and the male ‘Watchmen’ they’re expected to date and marry. They can either continue to live for the radical Christian patriarchy and stay in their bubble, or break free by expanding their bubble until it pops.


Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.

Just like the 2020 edition of AFI Fest, AFI Fest 2021 had some great shorts available to view on the online platform throughout the duration of the festival. This year’s mix ranged from multi-media animation featured in Love, Dad and H.A.G.S. to documentaries about death (The Death Cleaner), and travelled from Singapore (Strawberry Cheesecake) to Sudan (Al-Sit). Here are four of the Best Shorts from AFI Fest 2021. Look out for them on streaming platforms and other film festivals in the near future.


Best Shorts AFI Fest 2021

Love Dad

Love, Dad (Czech Republic)

In Love, Dad, the director Diana Cam Van Nguyen finds some letters of love her estranged dad wrote years ago. She uses a mix of styles to help process her emotions. The quickly narrated diary style gives the film a constantly moving stream-of-consciousness to keep her emotions flowing whilst the mixed-in animation allows her to speak about her relationship with some emotional distance. Much like last year’s winner Tiger and Ox in which a daughter identifies with her strict mother through animation, Van Nguyen manages to forgive her absent dad with the help of the comfort of animation.


Zonder Meer

Zonder Meer (Belgium)

Zonder Meer perfectly captures youthful summer holiday vibes at a Belgian camp-site. The camerawork brings us down to 5 year old Lucie’s innocent kid curiosity and the grainy colors give off a nostalgic warmth. However, the patient editing and 360 audio gradually expose us to the tragedy unfolding on the edge of Lucie’s consciousness: a boy has disappeared and may have drowned. Whilst Lucie quietly continues her explorations with other kids her age, the adults, unprotected from reality worry for the missing kid and their family.


Her Dance

Her Dance (Israel)

Bar Cohen’s Her Dance follows Aya, a Trans Woman, as she surprises her sister and Orthodox Jewish family at their house on Shabbat night. Because of her appearance, she’s met with scorn by her mother and sidelined by her family. However, the more she’s pushed away, the more determined she feels to stay. This lends an uneasy tension to the short which culminates in a memorable dancing scene (pictured above) and duel with her mother amongst a cheering circle of guests.


Babybangz

BabyBangz (U.S.)

Anastasia Ebel’s BabyBangz captures a hairdressing salon in New Orleans specializing in natural hair. While this might sound pretty mundane, this is no ordinary hairdressing salon. These hairdressers offer a complete experience, offering you world advice of a therapist and educational lessons with book recommendations in addition to a unique haircut. The tone of the movie matches the inspiring content. It features ethereal piano scales layered into the soundtrack (much like in Garrett Bradley’s Time) and an artistic mix of close ups and people living in and around the salon mimicking the style of Khalil Joseph. Both the salon and the film will inspire you to start something.


Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.

Holy Emy

Emy and her older sister Teresa live alone in Pireaus, the port City within greater Athens, after their mother is forced to return to the Philippines. They survive by avoiding the locals, attending church, and working at the local fish market. However, as their jobs fall through and Teresa grows more heavily pregnant, Emy seeks out Mrs. Christina to put her magical abilities to work. However, in coming out of hiding, Emy risks exposing her talents to the wrong people.

In Holy Emy, Emy and Teresa barely look old enough to care for themselves. They both look like teenagers but neither are in school – Teresa works at the local fish market, whilst Emy avoids most human contact now that her Mum has returned to the Philippines. It’s not clear why Emy didn’t return with her Mum. Perhaps her Mum thought she had enough support in Piraeus to stay whilst she returned home. She has her older sister, a neighbor that looks out for her (often condescendingly), and the support of the Filipino community at the local church.

The Filipino community is ‘othered’ in Holy Emy. All the Filipino characters are either overly devoted to Catholicism or have ancient powers which mimic Catholic Saints (hence the title). They’re also fetishized by the white characters in the movie. Teresa’s boyfriend keeps pointing out her Asian features when they’re making out, making it seem like he’s only into her because she looks exotic, whilst Mrs. Christina uses Emy, her mother, and other Filipinos for their magical abilities to heal people. There isn’t a reason why just the Filipinos have these old-world powers, which makes them appear even more exotic to the white characters. These defining characteristics fetishize the Filipinos in Holy Emy build up their ‘otherness’ vs. the white Greeks and Greek society.

Emy’s character in particular feels problematic. Her character, even more so than the rest of the Filipino community in this film, is made to seem unusual. She hardly speaks throughout the movie and is often pictured giving people creepy horror-film stares. Without a voice, she’s defined by her magical abilities: her ability to cry blood, heal, and control people through her touch and thoughts. Her silence and unusual abilities turn her into an old-world exotic fetish. Her character is just used as a tool to shock the audience and demonstrate her otherness. She, like the Filipino community in Holy Emy, are made to appear from another world – their magical powers and religious fervor don’t fit within modern Greek society. They’re fetishized for the sake of the quirkiness of this art-house body-horror.


Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.