Anori

Anori Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

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.

From: Greenland, Europe/North America
Watch: Trailer, IMDb, Website
Next: Tanna, Romeo + Juliet, Miryza

The Breakdown

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. Tanna is 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 Mirzya from northern India.

Or for more indigenous films from North America, check out Edge of the Knife or browse the NFB catalogue of free indigenous films and take your pick.

Steppe Man

Steppe Man Film Difficulty Ranking: 2

Unfortunately Steppe Man isn’t one of the best films you are going to see. It’s a bit predictable in parts and seems ignorantly sexist. However, if you like camels and myth, or if you’re trying to complete a film tour of the Caucasus and need to tick of Azerbaijan, give it a watch. Step (no pun intended) into the world of the Steppe Man.

From: Azerbaijan, Asia
Watch: Trailer, Vimeo
Next: Australia, Tarzan, Timbuktu
Read The Full Review
I Carry You With Me

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.

Luxor

Hanna starts Luxor looking like the typical ‘gone abroad to find yourself’ young white adult. She’s dressed in loose clothing, feels an other worldly connection to the foreign place, and sleeps around. However, whilst her character never completely loses this image in the film, our interpretation of her changes.

Instead of opening up, she becomes more closed emotionally as the film progresses. It doesn’t feel like we learn more about her. Scene by scene, her face becomes a canvas of lonely stoicism, even after she meets her former lover, Sultan. The only moment she breaks this facade in the first part of the film is when she automatically switches into ‘work-mode’ to help a tourist that faints. Otherwise she’s made a shell around her personality to defend herself against hardships.

Luxor could have slipped into the trap of exoticizing a foreign location from the perspective of an outsider. Whilst it does turn Ancient Egypt into a place for a white person to contemplate (side note: shout out to the British Museum), it feels self aware of what it’s doing. Hanna finds connections on her own organically, and other connections to the land through the eyes of a local Sultan. It also recognizes that tourists do visit Luxor to exoticize ‘the other’ by representing them in the spiritual group of westerners that followed the Grateful Dead, and the obnoxious American tourist from the opening. Again it just about avoids the trap of falling into the problematic ‘white girl finds herself in exotic location’.

Instead it uses the environment, and Hanna’s connection to it, to evoke nostalgia for Hanna’s past life with Sultan. We learn that this isn’t the first time she’s been to Luxor (having been here with Sultan earlier in life). Now she’s older, she has experienced trauma (that is only hinted at in the film), and her mind is in a different place. She’s seeing the same locations, but in a different light. Everything feels familiar, shown in her confident exploration of the place on her own, but it also feels different, as shown in her inquisitive interaction with the ruins. Her new connection to the place suggests that her return may be fated, and that she may have found her home and future.


Head to our AFI Fest Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2020.

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.