Landfall

Landfall is a political film imbued with anger at the current state of Puerto Rico. It captures life in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria, choosing to depict the current post-Hurricane tragedies instead of the actual Hurricane, and setting them within the history of U.S. imperialism. In doing so, Landfall presents a critique of disaster capitalism (see Naomi Klein’s Shock Doctrine) and the U.S. stranglehold on Puerto Rico and it’s ineffectual politicians.

That being said, the actual footage isn’t inherently political. Each scene from each part of the island is shot observationally without any directorial input or opinion. For example, the profile on the wealthy real estate family by itself doesn’t include any tough questions for the family or a political lens. However, by moving between these profiles of wealthy families and crypto-billionaires and profiles of rural farmers struggling to make a living and activists protesting the governor, the film becomes political. It juxtaposes the increasingly wealthy with the increasingly poor to highlight the growing inequality on the island. And by jumping around the country to visit a range of communities, Aldarondo shows that this inequality is endemic to all parts of the country.

One of the most memorable snapshots captures the arrival of U.S. crypto billionaires. They’ve arrived on the island cloaked in good intentions with promises for employment and wealth via the blockchain. However, when confronted by locals on their similarities with the white American imperialists that preceded them their benevolent facade crumbles. One represents the danger of a white savior – talking down on the locals as if he’s the only one that can solve their issues – whilst another represents the cultural eradication of cultural appropriation in her dreaded hair. Cut with scenes documenting the history of U.S. imperialism and speakers pressing Puerto Rico to privatize the country to encourage foreign investment and the warning signs are clear. Puerto Rico is on the brink of being re-colonized by wealthy Americans looking for a clean tax-haven for their millions. Their arrival is a threat to indigenous Puerto Rican life.

Landfall is made as an urgent warning to the precarious situation on the island. Just like Zuckerberg’s land grabs in Hawaii, and the privatization of post-Katrina New Orleans, post-Maria Puerto Rico is arriving at its own tipping point. Fortunately there is some hope that indigenous way of life prevails, represented in the people protesting the Governor, the community schools, and the family standing up to real estate in Vieques. The fight for Puerto Rico isn’t quite over.

Head to our LALIFF 2021 Hub for more reviews from the 20th edition of LALIFF.

Pornomelancholia

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.

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
Something Blue

As the news channels in Panama look forward to a big celebrity wedding featuring popular TV star Lucia de la Fuente, Ana gets ready for her own wedding taking place in 8 days time. However, an unexpected chain of events sees her racing around Panama City trying to get married as soon as possible. Something Blue is a rare festival rom-com that anyone can enjoy if they know what they’re in for.

If you’re into Eugenio Derbez rom-coms (see Overboard) then Something Blue is a film to look out for. The tone of the film is very similar, with it’s well lit production, light music, and a healthy serving of slapstick and cringe humor to propel the narrative forward. Plus Ana carries the comedy well, being the slightly overwhelming ‘bimbo’ character to laugh at throughout the film. Because of the light-hearted tone of the film, Something Blue feels more like an addition to a streaming service than a film festival film. It’s not particularly artistic or unique, things you’d typically expect from a festival film, but it plays into the cheesy rom-com genre well. So if you’re aware that it’s a cheesy rom-com before you start watching, you’ll be in a good position to enjoy it.

It’s fun to run around the city, with lots of establishing shots of the Panama City skyline and the restored old town. No doubt, these shots will help boost tourism to the city if this film is widely seen. However, Something Blue, like the majority of Latino telenovelas has a pretty un undiverse cast. Whilst only a small proportion of Panamanians define themselves as white, almost the entire cast of Something Blue is white. It’s unfortunately not unexpected, as this is pretty typical of Latino popular films and novelas, but it would have been great to see more diversity considering this is not a big TV production.

So if you’re up for a rom-com refresher to your film festival schedule, Something Blue is worth a watch.


Head to our LALIFF 2021 Hub for more reviews from the 20th edition of LALIFF.

Tears of Joy

Tears of Joy Film Difficulty Ranking: 1

Tears of Joy is a 15 minute reminder that bullying isn’t a game. It is designed to trigger those who have experienced being bullied and to scare anyone related to the victims. However, its scare tactic methods prioritize melodrama over a real exploration of the subtleties of bullying.

From: Saint Kitts & Nevis, North America
Watch: YouTube, Mubi
Next: Where I Come From, Shaina, Hulhudhaan

Tears of Joy – The Breakdown

Similar to Where I Come From and Shaina, Tears of Joy feels like a throw-back public service announcement. Its message is very clear (bullying is bad) and it uses intense examples to convey it. These examples take up the entire short film and are designed to evoke anger/horror in those who view the bullying, and sympathy and sadness for the victim. However, the intensity of the examples, and obviousness of the bullying, out-shouts what is often subtle and concealed. The bullying is so clear to us that it’s hard to believe that the adults choose to overlook it, especially as it appears to be every student against Joy. There’s no attempts on the school kids to hide it, so it feels unrealistic that they’re not caught and reprimanded. Meanwhile, Tears of Joy also infers that bullying is brutal and obvious, ignoring its more subtle guises.

Joy and the lead bully do get brief scenes with their parents for brief moments of character development, but this isn’t enough to justify the direction each character takes. Almost every scene of this short film is taken up by footage of school kids bullying Joy, or Joy crying alone (which she does very well, kudos to the young actor). This makes the film appear more exploitative – focused on shocking the viewers rather than building on the dialogue around bullying. Less focus on showing traumatic bullying and more focus on the characters and their motivations and feelings would have been helpful to justify the conclusion of the film. Spending more time building the characters would have also helped convey the complexities of bullying and its many forms.

Ultimately, if you’re a sucker for traumatic films designed to trigger emotions with a low budget, here’s Tears of Joy. It manipulates emotion by focusing on shocks and some intense crying scenes, carried out well by Neila Jones.

What to Watch Next

Whilst these exploitative, PSA style ‘message films’ aren’t my cup of tea, there are plenty of them from around the world. For more check out any of the following: