Araya

Araya Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

Neruda was asked to write an introduction poem for Araya, but he chose not to, saying ‘you cannot write a poem about a poem.’ He’s not wrong, this Venezuelan epic is a poetic ode to the global working class, from creation to post-industrialized exploitation. Watch Araya to see one of the best films from Venezuela and the anti-capitalist canon.

From: Venezuela, South America
Watch: IMDb, JustWatch
Next: Lucia, Eldorado XXI, Faya Dayi

Araya – The Breakdown

Araya opens with an epic creation sequence. We’re shown the sea, sky, and earth in sequence, just as God created the world in the book of Genesis. Then we’re introduced to sea life and birds, as a brass orchestra and xylophone start playing in the background. The carefully edited introduction crescendos with a vertical camera pan over the top of a pyramid of salt, revealing a community of salteros (salt workers) mining the salt marshes. Every shot draws us in, setting the scene for an epic tale of humanity, represented by these hidden people in Venezuela.

These forgotten people are all workers. They all make their living from the sea, working constantly to sustain themselves from the salt and fish it provides. The director, Margot Benacerraf, emphasizes the struggle to survive by focusing on their movements. The routine actions of each person living off of the sea appear like a well oiled machine, in tune with nature, and each other. The salteros follow each other up the salt mountain to weigh, sell, and deposit their salt; the fishermen bring back their fish for their families to salt. No time is wasted and each movement reinforces their struggle and their community.

Whilst we see the community working tirelessly together, we never fully identify with them. The director deliberately maintains a distance between the audience and the subjects of the film to keep their lives symbolic and poetic, in a similar way to the Soviet films of the USSR (Man with a Movie Camera) and Cuba (Lucia, Soy Cuba). She does this by using a narrator to emphasize their hardships as opposed to interviewing the workers directly. By telling their story through images instead of through their voices, they become representatives of the global working class, and not just exploited Salteros in Venezuela.

This sets up a final scene in which industrialization arrives, overtaking the manual labor carried out by the workers with a greed for profits. As machines take over, the salteros vanish – turning from hidden workers to hidden unemployed. At the same time, nature is replaced with exploited land. It’s a threatening message for workers and all citizens of the world.

Conclusion

Araya is a poetic epic. Through images, it tells the story of mankind from creation to post-industrial exploitation. It’s a art-house warning for workers and citizens of the world and an incredibly important film to add to your anti-capitalist viewing list alongside Soy Cuba and Salt of the Earth.

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.

Delphine’s Prayer

Delphine’s Prayers features a young Cameroonian woman baring her traumatic life story for the camera. In a personal one-on-one interview she recounts the death of her mother, her rape at 13, and her subsequent abandonment by her father which led her too an early life of prostitution to support herself and her daughter. She ended up marrying an old Belgian man that brought her to Europe. She came with some hope of a better life, but that has since dissipated, leaving her in poverty again.

The whole film is shot in one room in Belgium with each of the ~10 segments centering Delphine in the middle of the frame. She’s the only character on camera in this documentary until the very last scene. She’s also the only one who speaks, discounting a few prompts from the director to guide her life stories. Without any other characters, and no cuts away from Delphine, the film’s focus is completely on Delphine, leaving no room for the viewer to get distracted from her storytelling. It makes the documentary feel much more intimate – especially as Delphine is incredibly open throughout the film – but also sometimes a bit intrusive as it feels like her traumatic life story is being exploited to represent a bigger message.

The bigger message is to present Delphine’s traumatic life as one example of a generation of young African women that have been crushed by patriarchal societies at home and abroad. This message is brought together at the end of the film in a short scene in which the director talks over a visual of Delphine braiding her hair, speaking of their friendship in Europe. Because of their different backgrounds, they wouldn’t have crossed paths at home in Cameroon. However, in Europe, they’re both just seen as Black African women – reminders of Belgium’s colonial past.

Whilst it does feel a bit exploitative at times, delving into a wide range of stories from Delphine’s traumatic life, Delphine’s Prayers does give a voice to one Black African woman in Europe to represent a part of the African immigrant experience in Europe.

Faya Dayi

Faya Dayi Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

Faya Dayi is a trip of an Ethiopian documentary. It’s a fully immersive sensory experience into the highlands of Harar, Ethiopia with the help of Khat. Whilst it isn’t easy to keep track of the narrative threads, you’ll remember the tangible feel of the film.

From: Ethiopia, Africa
Watch: Trailer, Letterboxd
Next: Malni, Mother, I Am Suffocating, Fausto

Faya Dayi – The Breakdown

You might not know what’s going on in Faya Dayi, but that doesn’t matter. As instead of telling an easy to follow story, Faya Dayi gives us a complete sensory experience built by the film’s look and sound.

The film centers on the historical town of Hara in Eastern Ethiopia. Once, Harar was the center of Islamic culture and religion in the Horn of Africa but now the town is remote, sitting 500km away from Ethiopia’s capital, at almost 2km high. However, it’s still famous for being the birthplace of Khat, a plant whose leaves act as a euphoric stimulant for the locals that have been chewing them for centuries.

Faya Dayi chooses to focus on the magical Khat plant, but documents it in a very unique way. One strand of the documentary has observational footage of the Khat supply chain, documenting the commercial cycle of the crop from harvest to sale. This part of the film is pretty conventional and real. However, it’s mixed with two more strands – one featuring a boy navigating his relationship with his Khat chewing father and his brother that has left for Europe, and another following the mythical story of Elias and the birth of Khat. Both of these narratives are more poetic. They’re where the film employs the full breadth of it’s unique Khat-inspired style, and substitutes a focus on realism for a tangible sensory experience. Instead of telling a reliable story with these two narratives, Faya Dayi gives you a trip in Harar.

The style is what makes this film. Firstly, it’s all shot in black and white. There isn’t much light in the film, with most of the scenes taking place at night, so the low black and white contrast gives the film a dreamy timelessness. The images of Harar could be from today, the future, or 100 years ago. In addition to the dreamy low contrast shots, the director also uses a high number of close ups – of hands working and Khat leaves – with a very narrow depth of field. These shots are like flashlight beams illuminating parts of the darkness. They provide a focus in an otherwise dreamy film-scape. These moments, alongside the crisp diegetic sounds – of rustling leaves and crackling fires – make it feel like you’re right there in the moment.

It’s on this level that Faya Dayi feels Khat imbued. The vague storylines are just part of the act. We’re experiencing the sensations of the magical plant through the screen in the film’s immersiveness. The style accentuates our senses, making us feel like we’re there, but dulls our understanding of the plot. Instead of a linear, easy to follow narrative, we’re given a handful of strands to grasp at, until we give up trying to follow them and surrender to the meditative, poetic style. Watch this film in a dark room with a good sound system or headphones and drift along with it.

What to Watch Next

If you’re looking for another dreamy music and sound driven documentary that transports you to another places, check out Malni – Towards the Ocean.

Or if you’re simply looking for a more slow cinema documentaries there’s Lemojang Jeremiah Mosese’s Mother, I Am Suffocating. This Is My Last Film About You. as well as the darkness of the Peruvian mines in El Dorado XXI.

Lastly, for more wonder filled storytelling, immerse yourself in the fleeting episodes of Andrea Bussmann’s Fausto.

The imagineNATIVE Film + Media Arts Festival is an international hub for the presentation and celebration of Indigenous media art. It’s the largest festival of its kind in the world and plays a crucial role in providing a platform for Indigenous artists to reclaim their voices and express their own perspectives (as the vast majority of films about Indigenous peoples are made by non-Indigenous filmmakers). The Festival’s 6 days featured a range of great Indigenous storytelling from stop-motion animation to polished dystopian sci-fi movies. Here are 5 of our favorite films – feature length and short – that we caught for the 2021 edition of the imagineNATIVE film festival.


5 of our Best Films from imagineNATIVE Film Festival

angakusajaujuq

Angakusajaujuq – The Shaman’s Apprentice

Zacharius Kunuk, the World’s most famous Inuit filmmaker, is back with something completely new: his first stop motion animated film. In which, an apprentice travels with her grandmother into the underworld in search of a cure for an ailing community member. The brief glimpse into another realm is on the level of Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth with its eery dark spirits. However, we never feel lost thanks to the comforting guidance of the apprentice’s grandmother.


Tote Abuelo

Another film featuring a grandparent-granddaughter relationship is Tzotzil filmmaker Maria Sojob’s Tote Abuelo. In her debut feature, Maria returns to her ancestral home in Chiapas to reconnect with her estranged grandfather. The slow pace of the documentary matches both the slow straw-hat making process, as well as Maria’s patient questioning. Her conversation with her grandfather slowly opens up stories of her ancestors and treatment of her people in Southern Mexico – allowing her to carry on the history of her family.


Hiama

Hiama

If you love movies which feature school-kids getting revenge on their bullies, Hiama is for you. The star decides to embrace her Hiama (shamanic guardian spirit) in a weirdly empowering horror-filled climax. No settler-colonialists have an answer for this.


Run Woman Run

Run Woman Run

If you’re looking for a movie that feels like a mug of hot chocolate, Run Woman Run is the most heart-warming film we saw at imagineNATIVE. It follows Beck, a single mum, that sees visions of historic runner Tom Longboat who works to inspire her to get back on her feet following a diabetic coma. Her journey is emotional: she’s recovering from generational and intergenerational trauma to get her family back together. But it’s also full of humor – helped by Beck’s lazy college student attitude – and even has a few rom-com moments.


Night Raiders

Night Raiders

Night Raiders is an awesome take on the dystopian sci-fi genre. Like in Children of Men, seeing children in Night Raiders’ dystopia is rare as they’re all considered property of the state and institutionalized into schools to be indoctrinated into the regime. After years of evading the state, Niska loses her 11 year old daughter to the modern reincarnation of the residential schools system and has to team up with a bunch of Indigenous outcasts to rescue her and their community.


For more news on upcoming Indigenous films, follow imagineNATIVE online or keep track of upcoming events on their website. Also for more of our Film Festival coverage head to our Film Festival hub.