Rey Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

If you love films about mad historical characters then check out Rey. It follows the unlikely story of Orelie-Antoine de Tounens, a French country lawyer who ventures to Chile in 1858 to unite the Mapuche. If you liked the madness of Aguirre or Apocalypse Now check this art-house flick now! I recommend watching the trailer below to see if you can handle it!

Why Watch Rey?
  • It took 7 years to make – director Niles Atallah even buried the 16mm film footage in his back garden to artificially age it
  • If you want a Quixotic version of the Herzogian madmen (see Aguirre or Apocalypse Now)
  • It stretches the boundaries of film by playing with myth, memory, and history
  • To feel like you’re in one of the world’s last wildernesses
The Breakdown

Rey begins with a Frenchmen who landed on the coast of Chile in 1858. According to legend he traveled to the end of the South American continent to create his own kingdom. He united the tribes from the region and proclaimed himself king.

If you think it already sounds mythic, the film’s experimental style makes it seem even more unbelievable. We first meet the self proclaimed king standing alone in the wilderness shrouded in mist. After the mist clears, he declares himself ‘the king of water’ as water magically flows from his hands into a pool of water below him.

The unusual images don’t stop there either. Later on, when he is on trial, all the characters involved in the trail are wearing paper-mache masks. The masks could signify the character’s lost connection with the true history of the continent (they refuse to acknowledge the tribes in the south). Or that they use the masks to hide their true history, which is ultimately wiped out.

Is Rey an allegory of colonialism?

As the French lawyer narrates how he came to South America, we are shown images of ships landing and western looking men riding horses. He describes how he ‘flew across the sea’ and immediately ‘felt the spirit of the land.’ Layering his narration over the images of westerners arriving is an allegory to the colonizers who came across the seas centuries before. He like them, has come to take control of the land. In his case, he ventures south in an attempt to unite and lead the Mapuche tribes. In doing so, he brings the last autonomous region in Chile into the spotlight. Ultimately, he is the tribes downfall.

Image result for rey niles atallah

Conclusion

Rey is one of the experimental films that works well. It pieces together the beginning of the end for the last autonomous tribes in Chile through the unbelievable character of Orelie-Antione de Tounens. It’s a creative depiction of a enigmatic character that fuses myth, memory, and history to tell an unlikely story.

For more similar (but easier to watch) films of enigmatic characters in Southern America, check out Aguirre and The Lost City of Z. Or if it’s a good jungle film you’re after, check out The Embrace of the Serpent and Apocalypse Now.

Scene from Manila by Rays Martin

Manila Film Difficulty Ranking: 4

If you’re looking for a dark portrayal of life in Manila, you’ve come to the right place. In Manila there’s social problems, political corruption, and injustice hidden behind the tropes of the Hollywood noir genre. You’ll meet a few characters of the city, but the focus is always on the city of Manila and its sounds, sights, and life.

From: Philippines, Asia
Watch: Trailer, Amazon Prime, Rent on Amazon, Buy on Amazon
Next: From What is Before, Miles Ahead, Manila by Night
Continue reading “Manila – Welcome to the Dark Side of the City”
Ruinas Tu Reino

Ruinas Tu Reino Film Difficulty Ranking: 5

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.

To get more from this film, I strongly recommend reading Ela Bittencourt’s profile of Pablo Escoto for Lyssaria and also Pedro Escoto’s interview with Pedro Segura for Ojos Abiertos (in Spanish).

From: Mexico, North America
Watch: Trailer, Letterboxd, Vimeo (via Tweet from Director with Password)
Next: Mysterious Object at Noon, Too Early, Too Late, El Dorado XXI

Geographies of Solitude

Geographies of Solitude has many impressive shots of Nova Scotia’s Sable Island, a remote island almost 200 miles off the Canadian coast in the Atlantic Ocean. It starts with one of the most memorable shots, a night sky with more stars than you’ve likely ever seen in the sky before. The sheer number of stars makes the shot appear like an impressionistic painting, and the light is so bright, you even get to see a very clear silhouette of a person walking across the horizon. It’s an almost ASMR-type experience watching the opening with its complimentary ambient soundscape. It feels like you could watch the whole film without dialogue as the images and sound lull you into a trance, that it’s a surprise when there’s speech and we’re introduced to Zoe.

Zoe has been living on the island for over 40 years, mostly alone. We follow her as she explores the 12 square mile island every day to log any changes in the environment. She carries a kit with sampling pots and a notepad to capture anything new and log anything different she might see. Some days she might find a dead bird and on others she might encounter a new insect she hasn’t seen before, however, most days are repetitive logging exercises that track very small changes on the island. Despite the beautiful remote location, Zoe’s existence feels very monotonous and lonely.

The filmmaker, Jacquelyn Mills, takes the filmmaking to similarly exhaustive levels. Almost everything is shot using 16mm film, some of which is processed with a variety of experimental methods such as with peat, yarrow, and seaweed. Mills also pushes the soundtrack to the extreme with insect inspired melodies – literally music created to the steps of the local bugs. Both fit the subject of the documentary, as the experimental filmmaking matches Zoe’s own scientific experiments. However, the experimenting feels too exhaustive. There’s so much experimenting, it feels like the point of the experiments in the first place has been forgotten.

There’s a moment near the end of Geographies of Solitude in which Zoe questions the meaning of her own life. Her answer is a little melancholic as she seems to express doubt about her choice to live on the island for 40 years. She wonders if she’s stretched her life too long on the island and spent too much time away from everything else. The film feels a bit similar. The filmmakers have gone to extraordinary levels to make something unique – soaking film in peat and making music from bugs, but like Zoe’s endless logging, what is the point. Despite the beautiful location and beautiful shots, Geographies of Solitude is imbued with a melancholy for the futility of it all.


Head to our AFI Fest 2022 Hub for more reviews from AFI Fest 2022.

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.