SFIFF 2014: LA DUNE



Hanoch (Lior Ashkenazi) Vardi (Niels Arestrup) in La Dune.



Buried hearts

By Miranda Inganni

Writer-Director Yossi Aviram’s French/Israeli film, La Dune, tells the tale of men lost – and needing to be found.

Middle-aged Hanoch (Lior Ashkenazi) likes cats, kids and chess, but mostly from a distance. When a chance at fatherhood arrives, Hanoch leaves Israel for France.

Meanwhile outside of Paris, soon-to-be-retired Detective Reuven Vardi (Niels Arestrup) locates the missing writer Moreau (a small, but impactful part played by Mathieu Almaric), who does not respond well to being found.

Upon returning home, Reuven begins to pack up his professional life while he and his partner, Paolo (Guy Marchand) pack up their personal lives for a new apartment and a much needed vacation. But one last missing person’s case calls his name.

Local lass Fabienne (Emma de Caunes) has found a man washed ashore in the South of France who either cannot or will not talk. He has no identification on him, so the man found is yet a man unknown. He does, however, have a small clue to his identity on him -- a newspaper clipping about the Moreau case. Seemingly unbeknown to the characters, this silent man is in fact Hanoch.

As Reuven delves more into Hanoch’s case, he is forced to reflect on his own life choices. Hanoch seems to have deep secrets and carries a great burden. Sadness? Shame? Guilt? All of the above and more? But Reuven is weighted by his own past – the buoy of his current love and life cannot forever keep him afloat. As the two men spend more time together, Hanoch seems desperately to want Reuven to uncover his identity, but not by Hanoch revealing it. It is imperative to Hanoch that Reuven figure this out on his own.

Aviram’s feature debut is a touching, understated look at a long-estranged duo. The exceptionally talented cast contributes excellent performances of these characters that quietly exude complex lives. Director of Photography Antoine Héberlé captures a warm, rich softness that effectively enhances the story. Lacking unnecessary dialogue, La Dune speaks to the heart about loves lost and found again.

SFIFF 2014: MARY IS HAPPY MARY IS HAPPY

Suri (Chonnikan Netjui) and Mary (Patcha Poonpiriya) in Mary is Happy, Mary is Happy.

Tongue Thai-ed 

By Miranda Inganni

 
Finding inspiration in 410 consecutive tweets by a teenager, Nawapol Thamrongrattanarit's Mary is Happy, Mary is Happy fuses social media and filmmaking in this wonderfully whimsical movie.

Deftly intertwining the tweets (originally posted by Mary Malony) with the drama, we follow moody Mary (Patcha Poonpiriya) and her more evenly keeled best friend Suri (Chonnikan Netjui) as they navigate their way through their final year of high school. Mary is impulsive  -- ordering a jellyfish in the mail, booking a quick trip to Paris which she subsequently sleeps through because of jet lag -- and a frustrated creative  -- forever chasing the “magic hour” in which to take her pictures. But mostly she is a mercurial, seemingly hopelessly romantic, teenager.

Mary and Suri are in charge of creating the school’s yearbook, which provides for many distractions and obstacles that they must overcome to complete the book.
 
Accident prone Mary traipses through her days, despite her cell phone blowing up repeatedly, getting poisoned by mushrooms while on a quick camping trip and even a terrible tragedy. All the while, she pines for M(Vasuphon Kriangprapakit, a young man she meets near a pancake cark next to the train tracks.
 
While Mary goes through what is for so many the awkward transition into adulthood, Thamrongrattanarit capitalizes on the limitations -- and lack thereof -- of the original tweets allowing Mary to mature in the face of adversity during the course of the film.
 
As director Thamrongrattanarit creates the story line around the tweets, plot points can seem eclectic. But the feature has a groove that flows smoothly once you suspend all reality and give in to the film's playfulness. It's got to be hard for a grown man to create a story out of a bunch of tweets written by a teenaged girl. But Thamrongrattanarit pulls it off with aplomb.

SFIFF 2011: CRIME AFTER CRIME

Deborah Paegler in Crime After Crime.

In an un-Cooley way

 

By Miranda Inganni

Pitting the best of humankind against some of the worst of humankind, Crime After Crime tells the tumultuous tale of a woman who overpaid her debt to society.

In 1975, a pregnant 15-year-old Deborah Peagler met a local grocery store clerk, and sometimes model, Owen Wilson. The two became romantically involved, in part because Wilson smoothly transitions into a father figure with Peagler's newborn daughter. Yet when money became an issue, Wilson forces Peagler into prostitution in order to not only pay bills but also support his drug habit. After his abuse reaches a boiling point, Peagler brings Wilson to a park where he is beaten and strangled to death by two local gang members.

Following a slow investigation, authorities catch up to Peagler and the two gang members. Facing the death penalty (under false pretenses), Peagler pleads guilty to first degree murder when her culpability was far less grave.

Serving a life sentence, Peagler has the opportunity to get out of prison when a new law is passed in California. Enter attorneys Nadia Costa and Joshua Safran, two attorneys determined to seek and secure justice for Peagler.

What follows is a true-to-life crime story with more twists, turns and surprises than the best fiction. Secret memos, paid informants and false promises of freedom follow. The maximum sentence Debbie would have received if she had been convicted of manslaughter for aiding in the murder of an abusive boyfriend would have been six years. Instead we see her struggle through decades of incarceration. (The Los Angeles District Attorney's office does not come off well here.)

Yoav Potash's first feature documentary is a must see for anyone who believes the legal system is extremely flawed. There is a long way to go, but Peagler, Costa, Safran and their families prove that hope, hard work, patience and persistence have the sweetest of payoffs.

SFIFF 2011: THE COLORS OF THE MOUNTAIN

Manuel (Hernán Mauricio Ocampo) in The Colors of the Mountain.

Offsides

By John Esther

Deep in the mountains of the U.S. client state, Columbia, a young boy named Manuel (Hernán Mauricio Ocampo) just wants to go to school and play soccer with his friends. Thanks to the poor conditions and civil unrest of the community this is harder than it appears. Teachers never stay long, paramilitaries and guerrillas swarm the area and Manuel's family is somewhat poor. 

Shortly after receiving a brand new soccer ball and soccer goalie gloves for his ninth birthday (putting "the drunken ball" to rest), Manuel loses the ball in a guerrilla minefield rigged for paramilitary helicopters. Although prohibited from retrieving the ball, Manuel and his buddies devise numerous schemes to get the ball back. 

Meanwhile the armed people of the community tug at its citizens for allegiance to the illegal rightist paramilitaries or the leftist guerrillas cause when most of the simple farmers just want to be left alone. But indifference is not an option in a country riddled with human rights abuses. 

As the civil conflict intensifies in the area and people increasingly disappear, Manuel and his friends try to cope with the unraveling of their community through friendship and futbol, but there is no real escape from the horrors.

An endearing feature debut by writer-director Carlos César Arbeláez which is, fortunately nowhere as heartwarming as the SFIFF 2011 program states, The Colors of the Mountain (Los colores de la montaña) is the kind of honest, direct film that illustrates the worth of film festivals. Well acted, too.

SFIFF 2011: ASLEEP IN THE SUN

Lucio (Luis Machín) in Asleep in the Sun.

Burning dreams

By Miranda Inganni

Director Alejandro Chomski's feature film, Asleep in the Sun (Dormir Al Sol), begins with a doggie-eye-view sequence of what turns out to be a Jack Russell Terrier delivering an envelope. While we have no idea what possesses this postal pup, he is clearly a dog on a mission. The recipient opens the letter and starts reading. And the story begins.

Set in 1950s Argentina, Lucio (Luis Machín), a watchmaker, and his not-so-happy homemaker wife, Diana (Esther Goris), enjoy a birthday dinner for Lucio. In addition to the family, there is an extra guest participating in the festivities: local pet shop owner "Professor" Standle (Enrique Piñeyro), a mysterious if not nefarious figure.

While Lucio and Diana are very much in love with each other, she suffers from a mild nervous disorder, pushing her away from her husband and toward the dogs at the Standle's shop. She is a woman possessed by the pooches. Standle points out to Lucio that his wife is clearly abnormal -- she spends time away from the house, she is incapable of bearing children, she visits with the dogs all day – and suggests she seek treatment at a phrenopathic clinic where "they get right to the point" on curing such disorders. Much against his better wishes, but at his wife's (and Stendle's) urging, Diana agrees to enter the facility. What follows is an absurd and charming story of misunderstanding, mistaken identities, missing brain matter and mystery.

Based on a story by Adolfo Bioy Casares, Asleep in the Sun is bizarre and silly, and very much like an episode from The Twilight Zone -- multi-layered, a love story and a thriller as well as a cautionary tale of blindly following the pack.

SFIFF 2011: MARATHON BOY

A scene from Marathon Boy.

Run, Budhia, run

By Don Simpson

What were you doing with your life when you were three years old? Well, I doubt you were running 13-mile half-marathons like Budhia Singh. I certainly was not.

Born in 2002 in the slums of Bhubaneswar (in the eastern Indian state of Orissa), Singh's mother sold him off at an early age to a peddler for 800 rupees. Then Biranchi Das, a renowned judo teacher, bought Singh to save him from the abusive peddler. Das raised Singh along with several other young kids in his Judo Hall orphanage.

Upon punishing Singh one day by making him run laps around the Judo Hall courtyard, Das discovered Singh's amazing stamina as a runner. Das appointed himself as Singh’s coach and they commenced an arduous training regimen. 

When documentary filmmaker Gemma Atwal begins filming the three-year-old Singh, he has already completed six half-marathons. By the age of four, Singh has already completed countless full-length (26-mile) marathons. Das then arranges for Singh to run 42 miles from from the Chapandie temple to Bhubaneshwar. Singh instantly emerges as a national superstar, even a hero of sorts. But Singh's fame incites a rabid debate. Half-marathons and full-marathons are one thing, but 42 miles is another. Is this exploitation or philanthropy? Is this child abuse or is Das merely providing Singh with a rare opportunity to further develop his inherent skill and become famous? The Indian government and social services pounce on the high profile case and suddenly the entire situation spirals wildly out of control. Singh soon finds his dream to "run all the way to the Olympics" at risk of being spoiled by the corruption and greed of adults.

Marathon Boy began in 2005 as a curiosity study focusing on Singh's relationship with Das; but after five years of filming, the story develops into something significantly larger. Atwal finds herself in the middle of a controversy that escalates exponentially each and every frame. This Dickensian tale translates directly to the fanatical exploitation of young children in Western cultures. Be it music, athletics, modeling or acting, children's parents plop their kids into seriously (and stressfully) competitive situations at what often seems like far too early of an age. It is one thing when the children choose that way of life, but another when adults force it upon them. 

(It also begs the questions: At what age do human beings become rational enough to be able to make that kind of decision? And until that rationality is developed, what decisions should guardians be allowed to make for the children they are responsible for?)

Soon the kids are generating more income than their parents, yet where their income is going often becomes questionable. Of course, if there is one thing to take away from Marathon Boy, the debate is not quite as black and white as it would seem.

Marathon Boy screens April 29, 2:30 p.m., Sundance Kabuki Cinemas; April 30, 1 p.m., New People; May 3, 9:15 p.m., Sundance Kabuki Cineamas; For more information: MB.