We don’t believe in a cinema that yells “¡Viva la revolución!” but in one that instead formally critiques the structures that originally created the profound injustice that exists today.
Pedro Escoto, Director of Ruinas Tu Reino
If you’re not familiar with slow film or meditative cinema, the lack of story line and raw experimental shots of Ruinas Tu Reino might prove to be too much of a challenge. The long shots of the sea and fishermen sitting around makes the film feel more like a film exhibit you’d see in a modern art museum. However, if you have the patience to observe, you’ll find a film imbued with poetry; literally in words that appear on screen, and visually in the meditative shots of the fisherman’s existence. It’s a film that seeks to deconstruct Latin American cinema by transcending historical narratives, reverting to DIY production, and focusing on the power of very raw images.
If you’re looking for an introduction to the calypso music of Panama, you’ve come to the right place. A Night of Calypso will introduce you to some of the torch bearers of the genre, bring you up to speed with it’s influences, and give you an overview of the history of Afro-Caribbean people in Panama. You’ll also get a free ticket to a night of calypso music courtesy of Grupo Amistad.
Anori’s sweeping shots of Greenland’s snow covered glaciers and mountains sets an awe-inspiring tone for the film. The ethereal landscape shots add to the mystique of the Greenlandic myths spoken between Anori and Inuk that frame Anori. However, the beauty of the set up and intriguing mythical framing unfortunately don’t carry through into the bulk of the movie, as a simple love story and black and white battle between good and evil fall flat.
Anori starts with panoramic shots of Greenland’s glaciers and snow capped mountains backed by loud idyllic music, not too far off the airy sounds of Sigur Ros. It sets a tone of wonder and mystique that supports the dreamy scenes of Anori telling Inuk the Greenlandic myths she learnt as a child. With both of them dressed in white and shot brightly, these scenes feel like they’re happening in another realm.
From the mystical opening, the film cuts to Inuk falling into a coma after an accident at sea. After Anori flies to the hospital to be with him, the film jumps into the past to show us how Anori and Inuk met and how their love for each other grew.
Anori relies on images and sound to convey emotion. Like the characters in a Terrance Malick film, Anori and Inuk don’t say much to each other and appear completely in awe of each other. Their racing emotions are carried in the melodramatic soundtrack whilst their growing love is visualized in the newly blossoming Spring landscape. The images and music are nice, but not unique. They hit the expected notes of a romantic TV soap or telenovela, which makes the melodrama a bit obvious.
The lack of dialogue also hinders the film’s ability to develop the characters. As the flashback scenes are bathed in bright light and melodramatic music, we only see Anori and Inuk through rose-tinted glasses. We never see another side to their lives or hear about their backgrounds, so we can only take them as unquestionably good people. This portrayal becomes more problematic when the antagonist to their love is revealed and is presented as evil incarnate. Whilst the antagonist has his own problems, they are shown to be caused by them, forcing us to accept that he is simply evil, with no chance of redemption. The lack of dialogue and character development leaves the three main characters as a bit one-dimensional: they’re either good or evil, leaving no room for our interpretation.
What to Watch Next
If you’re looking for quick tragic young romance,the obvious place to go is Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Baz Lurhmann’s adaption is the most extravagant. Tannais a great modern day adaptation set within the Kastom tribe from Vanuatu.
Or if you’re looking for films which combine love and myths, check out the melodramatic Mirzyafrom northern India.
Or for more indigenous films from North America, check out Edge of the Knifeor browse the NFB catalogue of free indigenous films and take your pick.
Mosh is an aspiring dancer living in the hood in the Dominican Republic. She lives with her mother who is dying from cancer and her cousin Geronimo, who gets by dealing drugs.
Not sure what to make of it. Mosh starts of as if it’s going to be a musical but then changes direction into a hood film after the opening. It features some of the typical hood film tropes: a kid trying to make it out of the hood, a raw undiscovered talent, relative stuck in a gang. But it also features a few scenes of a tall lady playing God, who’s followed around by a man dressed as a pineapple.
God and her pineapple friend appear to characters to talk about death and nostalgia for a life lived. She helps each of the characters become more comfortable with the idea of death. However, whilst the talks are interesting, they never really fit within the main(?) narrative of the film – that of Mosh and her family (question mark as maybe Mosh isn’t the focus?). The discussions are also pretty long and slow which disrupts the flow of the film further. (Even the characters annoyingly start to interrupt themselves as the discussions about mortality and life starts drifting without focus).
I really wanted to like Mosh, but I could never understand what kind of a film it was trying to be. It has too many moving parts. Instead of focusing on one narrative, it tries to follow many (Mosh, her brother, her mother, the drug boss).
There’s also a lot of unanswered questions. Why does Mosh so vehemently correct anyone who calls her Maria? What is this happiness drug? Why does God keep appearing? Why does she have a side kick dressed as a pineapple? We’re also never clear on why Mosh loves dancing and why she is going to all these dance classes and auditions – is she auditioning for a role? Does she want to make it her career? Is it her way of escaping her reality? It’s never really clear. We just have to assume or accept a lot of things that we are shown.
As a result, we’re never really sure what the film is. The convoluted narrative, varied pace, and unanswered questions make it hard to immerse yourself in the film. We never feel like we know Mosh, but we’re also never sure if this film is actually about her, her brother, the hood, or God.
I Carry You With Me is an epic cross generational, border crossing love story that hops between Puebla in Mexico and New York in the USA. It’s shot across three time periods: the present in NY, the past in Puebla, and the distant past reflected in childhood memories. The majority of the film takes place in the middle where Ivan and Gerardo meet. It contains the bulk of the film’s emotion and narrative. However, the cuts to the present imbue it with nostalgia by situating it in the past. It makes it feel like a dream period for the couple that contrasts with the uncertainty of their lives in the present.
The style also contributes to the dream like qualities of the middle period. Like Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love, Heidi Ewing uses a lot of color filters to imbue warmth and feeling to I Carry You With Me. Instead of warm reds and oranges, there’s greens, oranges, and blues that create a world that feels unique and special. It captures the excitement of their romance. Also like In The Mood for Love, there’s food. A plate of Chile en Nogada replaces a bowl of hot steaming noodles. Chile en Nogada being one of Puebla and Mexico’s most iconic dishes and one that is notoriously hard to make. It both situates their romance and symbolizes their love.
The portrayal of Puebla also challenges the typical American Dream narrative presented in U.S.-Mexico films. It depicts a Mexican city full of warmth, beauty, and life to contrast with the lonely, bleak, coldness of New York. In this film, the U.S. is not the land of opportunity that it is often depicted to be. Instead of leaving to escape poverty, they leave for the opportunity to start a new life.
I Carry You With Me is not without it’s own cliches. There’s the gay guy with the female best friend and another who’s best friend is a flamboyant drag queen. Then there’s the haunting memories of the first time their fiercely patriarchal families put them down. Obviously not all families in Mexico are like this, and whilst I don’t doubt these events happened to the real Ivan and Gerardo, they feel like exploitative throw in scenes designed to evoke sympathy and emotion. However, despite the cliches,I Carry You With Me is a brilliantly romantic portrayal of generation and border crossing love.
Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.
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