Lucia Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

How well do you know your Cuban history? Lucia charts the evolution of revolutionary consciousness in Cuba from Spanish Imperialism until after the Cuban revolution through the stories of three women named Lucia (living in 1896, 1932, and 1960 respectively). Who’d thought a Cuban film made in the 1960s would be more progressive than most of the Hollywood films of today because of it’s political consciousness and female protagonists.

Image result for lucia 1968

Why Should You Watch Lucia?
  • To experience life in Cuba before and after the revolution
  • If you like period films you’ll love the first two parts
  • For some chaotic battle scenes
  • To see how to add emotion to film scenes
The Breakdown

Part one. It’s 1895. Lucia, a lady from the upper class, gossips with her friends about another lady who has just returned from Paris with a rich, chubby husband before they all head into church. She catches the eye of a trader whilst in church, and they both exchange smiles. This is romance of the 1890s.

As part one progresses, you gradually see more and more of the demise of Spanish imperialism. Firstly, from the horrific story of Fernandina; a former nun that crazily roams the streets after being raped. Secondly from the doomed love affair of Lucia. And, lastly from the chaotic battles that take place at the end of the segment. The chaos which ends part one is a long way from the playful gossip that starts the film.

You’ll also notice how Humberto Solas adds loads of emotion to his film. For example, in Fernandina’s rape scene, he quickly cuts between different angles preventing us from focusing on one view point which disrupts our viewing flow.  To add to the effect, he uses a hand-held camera. The combination of the quick cutting and the hand-held camera make us feel Fernandina’s confusion and horror as all these soldiers are frantically chasing her. If you’ve seen Sergei Eisenstein’s famous Battleship Potemkin, you’ll recognise this chaotic montage.

Conclusion

Lucia is stylish and progressive. It mixes quick cutting montages and hand-held cameras into it’s three parts which all feature women. For a film that charts the evolution of the revolutionary consciousness in Cuba from Spanish Imperialism to after the Cuban revolution, check out Lucia!

Click on the poster on the left to buy on Amazon!

The uncontrollable kid in Mommy

Mommy Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

Sexy Moms + One Uncontrollable Kid = Mommy, a film with Canadian Karaoke and Violence. Sounds like a game of Cards Against Humanity right!? A smart-phone like aspect ratio takes headlines in this one in a beautifully shot film about a single mother trying to raise her unpredictably violent son.

From: Canada, North America
Watch: Trailer, Rent on Amazon, Buy on Amazon
Next: We Need to Talk About Kevin, Tangerine, Room
Continue reading “Mommy – Sexy Moms and One Uncontrollable Teenager”

The Wolves is a spiritual sister to Sean Baker’s The Florida Project. Instead of a boisterous white mum and daughter living in a motel by Disney World, The Wolves features a single mum with two young boys that have just crossed the border into the United States. The kids are happy to follow their mum and spend more and more days passing time in a shabby apartment on the understanding that they’re going to Disneyland.

The two boys are stuck at home everyday making their own entertainment whilst their mum works double shifts to try and create a better future. There’s no school for them to go to and they’re forbidden from leaving the apartment. Any chances of being caught and deported must be avoided.

Despite being stuck in the apartment all day, The Wolves is presented with a lot of warm nostalgia. There’s a slow and lazy guitar soundtrack that generates the same warm melancholic tones of films imbued in Americana like Mud, Bombay Beach, or even parts of Thelma and Louise. There’s also warmth in the games that the two boys play to keep themselves occupied and the drawings that come to life in their imagination. Even though the melancholic soundtrack and bleak surroundings hint that the American dream is out of reach, their playfulness shows it won’t stop them dreaming.

The Wolves is an ode to the faceless people of America. Not just the immigrants that cross the southern border seeking a better life, but the homeless, and anybody scraping together a life living below the poverty line. A few times in the film, Samuel Kishi Leopo (the director) inserts montages of portraits of people from different racial and ethnic backgrounds living within the new family’s community. All the portraits feature people staring straight into the camera like you might see in a National Geographic magazine, showing them without anything to hide. It shows them purely, in front of their humble homes. What these people have in common is an absence of the white picket fenced house promised by the American dream. It’s a sign that being American, or simply being in America for those that migrate north, doesn’t automatically grant you a well spring to health and prosperity. The Wolves honestly highlights the people that the country has left behind.


For more films from the Berlin film festival, head to our Berlinale home page.

In Land of Ashes, thirteen year old Selva lives in a small costal town surrounded by sea and dense forest. Her mother has passed away, so she shares the duties of looking after her frail old grandfather with Elena, an older woman who comes and goes as she wishes.

Elena is the only female role model that Selva has, but their relationship is a strange one. Selva obviously needs her for companionship and help navigating her path to adulthood, but she also despises her. She spits in her food and trades vicious insults with her over the dinner table which eventually unravels into laughs thanks to her grandfather. Later, Elena invites her dancing, but disappears soon after hitting the dance floor in order to score a few drugs and never returns. It reinforces Selva’s vulnerability and her inevitable life alone.

To keep herself company, Selva manages to conjure visions of her dead mother. These visions help to guide her through the challenges she faces, such as looking after her grandfather, and they also help her to come to terms with the impermanence of life and her future life alone. Her grandfather’s death is inevitable, but it’s not until Elena’s disappearance that she realizes that she will be living alone. Seeing her mother in the nature around her provides her with the comfort that her family will continue to live in her and her surroundings after her grandfather passes away.

Land of Ashes was one of the best films I saw at SBIFF. It creates a vivid world from just a few images of the natural world they live in – mostly of the night sky and dense jungle, but also of the local fauna. The magic in it adds some mysticism about Selva’s future alone and the life in the wilderness around us.

In Right Near the Beach, Jeffrey Jacobs, Jamaica’s world record breaking sprinter is beaten to death near his home. His murder sparks a frenzy of media coverage that digs into his friendship with a gay man. Jeffrey’s single father becomes a social pariah because of the reaction to his son’s death, living alone in the hills. It’s only when his youngest son returns that he is given a chance to transcend his isolation and grief.

Right Near the Beach tells its story effectively through the images and sounds it presents. Firstly, the film develops Terrence Malick’s visual style to create a more visceral feeling. Right Near the Beach still has the trademark wandering camera and meditative shots familiar to Malick’s films, but adds a varying shot length to better convey the varying emotions Jeffrey’s dad feels.

For most of the film, the average spot length feels longer than your typical Hollywood film. This gives the audience more time to watch the characters as they wander in rural Jamaica alone, allowing us to feel their search for inner peace. However, for a few key scenes, the emotional toll of the media and neighborhood gossip is too much for them and they release their frustration in sin scenes with frantically fast cutting. The quick shots that rapidly cut around Jeffrey’s dad when he starts axing a tree root creates an urgent feeling of blind rage that contrasts with the otherwise relaxed feelings generated by the longer shots. It’s one example of how the filmmakers brilliantly use shot lengths to change the feelings of each scene.

Secondly, the sound of Right Near the Beach provides the foundation for the visual experimentation. In the first half of the film, the soundtrack is dominated by a constant stream of radio show interviews with people discussing Jeffrey Jacobs’ homosexuality. The real homophobia you hear on air (these interviews were conducted with real Jamaicans) penetrates the silence of the rural area Jeffrey’s father lives. What he hears forces him deeper into isolation just to try and silence the country’s prejudice. This changes in the second half of the film, when the prejudiced voices that plague him start to ease after his youngest son’s arrival. They’re replaced by more natural sounds from the rural environment they live in, marking his successful coming to terms with his eldest son’s death. It’s as if he’s managed to meditate away the hateful media and replace it with a calm peace of mind. Just as the visceral visual style builds emotions, the sounds we hear guide us through Jeffrey’s dad’s grief.

To take the film full circle, the filmmakers end the film with the reunion of the dad and his youngest son. It’s a touching end to an emotional film that shows they have both transcended the deaths of their brother/son and mother/wife.

Right Near the Beach manages to accomplish a lot. Firstly, the editing and cinematography work incredibly well with the soundscape to depict the character’s raw emotion and path to overcoming their grief. Secondly, the full circle script gives the film a spiritual completeness that many films fail to achieve. But, that’s not all. Right Near the Beach also touches on the prejudice in Jamaica and how the country is largely overlooked internationally except for beaches and running (hence the ironic title). I’m excited to see more from these filmmakers.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews from PAFF 2020.