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: PELO MALO

Junior (Samuel Lange Zambrano)in Pelo Malo.

Hairs looking at you, kid

By Miranda Inganni

To what lengths will a young boy go to get the attention and love he so desires from his mother? In Mariana Rondón’s film Pelo Malo (Bad Hair) the more appropriate question might be, just how short is he willing to shear?

Nine-year-old Junior (Samuel Lange Zambrano) is fixated on straightening his hair for his school photo. You could say Junior sways to his own music. Sadly, his single mother is more concerned about her son’s perceived sexual orientation, which causes her great consternation.

In desperate need for child care, the mom of two young boys, and a recently unemployed security guard, Marta (Samantha Castillo) turns to her former mother-in-law, Carmen (Nelly Ramos) for help. Carmen allows Junior all the freedom he thinks he wants to straighten his hair and dance around all day. Unfortunately, tough Marta strongly dislikes her son’s pursuits of song, dance and comfort and takes matters into her own rough hands. Junior cannot win -- it is always a battle of wills with his mother. He constantly falls into the traditional binary of being too feminine or too masculine for Marta’s taste, but never just his mother’s loved little boy. Marta fears that her son is gay because she never touches him, and yet she never reaches out to him. Quite to the contrary, Marta pulls away from her son frequently -- at home, on the bus, walking through the neighborhood. She is so removed from him yet is constantly trying to teach him lesson; sadly, usually in the worst kind of way.

Set in the gritty, overcrowded high rise apartment blocks in Caracas, Venezuela, Rondón (Postcards from Leningrad) tells the story without an overbearing sense of judgment. All the actors perform wonderfully, with young Zambrano turning in a heartbreaking performance and Castillo embodying his tough-as-nails mom. Rondón puts a twist on what many perceive as the traditional masculine and feminine rolls in this touching film.

SFIFF 2011: TABLOID

Joyce McKinney in Tabloid.

Thrash trash that talk

By Don Simpson

Former Miss Wyoming and S&M call girl with an IQ of 168 and a penchant for cinnamon massage oil, kidnaps and rapes a rotund Mormon. Years later, she clones her dog…creating five new Boogers! Boy, it sure does not get much better that that. That is the stuff that tabloids -- and Errol Morris’ Tabloid -- are made of!

By way of McKinney (it turns out that you just need to point a camera at her and she will run and run and run with her story), the snarky and sardonic documentarian Morris unearths a subject that allows his off-kilter sense of humor to run rampant. As is typically the case with Morris, Tabloid reveals that his technique is not malicious (unless you’re a Mormon, then you will certainly take offense); Morris allows his subjects to dig their own graves, as he frequently catches the various interviewees flagrantly embellishing their stories and contradicting each other.

This brings us to the favorite subject of the 2008 recipient of SFIFF's Golden Gate Persistence of Vision Award: the truth. In Tabloid, thanks to all of the contradictions and untrustworthy commentary, Morris is unable to reveal an absolute truth. Instead it seems that the truth does not really matter in the context of this documentary (though if you want it, the truth is probably located somewhere in between the interviews). Here, Morris is more interested in how truth can be mediated and distorted. It is often apparent that McKinney’s version of the story is not true, yet she appears to believe her story completely. As McKinney explains, “You can tell a lie for long enough that you believe it." She is not talking about herself, though the statement certainly fits her as snug as her see-through blouse.

Morris is a documentarian, but first and foremost he is an entertainer. No matter how serious his subject, Morris has proved time and time again that he possesses an obvious knack for comedic timing and punctuation -- as with the flashes of words like “Spread-eagle!” and “Barking mad!” on screen in order to further accentuate his interviewee’s verbal flourishes. His other strong suit is his utilization of humorous archival material, which often features quirky film clips from the 1950s and 60s. In Tabloid, Morris utilizes clips from The God Makers (1982), an animated film that takes a highly critical view of the beliefs of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

McKinney certainly proves that people with a sensational sense of self are engagingly entertaining, but what makes a documentary about McKinney any better than a reality show about the Jersey Shore? Is McKinney’s story strong or meaningful enough to justify a 90-minute documentary about it? Is there anything to be learned from Tabloid? (Besides the obvious “fact” that Mormon’s are incredibly silly!) Is Tabloid a vessel for Morris to comment upon gossip rags, tabloids and “reality” entertainment? Or is this all just for shits and giggles? (Admittedly, I shat and giggled simultaneously when McKinney stated that her raping a man would be like “trying to stuff a marshmallow into a parking meter.” Uh, what?!)

In case you are wondering, the infamous manacled Mormon, Kirk Anderson, declined to be interviewed for Tabloid.

Tabloid screens May 3, 9:30 p.m, Sundance Kabuki Cinemas; May 5, 2:45 p.m., New People. For more information: Tabloid.

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.