From the monthly archives:

April 2005

The Swenkas

The Swenkas (Denmark, 2004, Director: Jeppe Rønde, 72 minutes): This film was really unlike any other doc­u­mentary I’ve ever seen. The Swenkas are a group of about 20 Zulu men who gather each weekend to “swank”: they dress up in fancy suits and jew­ellery and com­pete before a judge to see who is the most stylish. Sort of a “Lord of the Bling” (ooh, couldn’t resist!). But it’s more than just fun for them. Swanking rep­res­ents self-respect, and these men emphasize cer­tain values such as clean­li­ness and sobriety. It’s as if the old adage “Clothes make the man” has come to life. Even though some may think these men are spending far too much money on their clothes, it seems to have given them the pride they need to be suc­cessful in life. Certainly no one in their fam­ilies com­plains. Besides, some­times they com­pete for large sums of money (or even, now and then, a cow.)

The reason the film stands out is the way it has been crafted. Director Rønde uses the framing device of a fic­tional nar­rator, an old Zulu vag­a­bond who tells us a bit about the group, but also sets up the dra­matic arc of the story: the leader of the Swenkas has just died, and his son is grieving and thinking about abandoning the group. This storyline gives the film the feeling of a fic­tional film, and at times it’s hard to believe that the whole thing isn’t care­fully scripted.

The dir­ector explained after­wards that he never told the par­ti­cipants what to say, but that since Zulu cul­ture is built around storytelling and the Swenkas were all used to per­forming, each par­ti­cipant had no trouble “per­forming” in the film. But they really were working through a dif­fi­cult time in the life of their group.

The result is a beau­ti­fully shot, and even more beau­ti­fully edited film that feels more like a fable. The recur­ring themes are hope and the rela­tion­ship between fathers and sons. The dir­ector actu­ally told us that this film is the second in a tri­logy about faith, hope and love, and I found myself really eager to see the other films. A standard doc­u­mentary approach, with inter­views and such, would have made an inter­esting film. Jeppe Rønde’s unorthodox approach has given us a tran­scendent one.

More inform­a­tion on the film here.

10/10(10/10)

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A Perfect Fake (Canada, 2004, Director: Marc De Guerre, 57 minutes): Ovid’s myth of Pygmalion forms the basis for this explor­a­tion of how tech­no­logy is helping us design more and more con­vin­cing rep­res­ent­a­tions of human beings. Whether it’s CG movies, games, por­no­graphy, or latex “love dolls”, people (mostly men) are looking for other people (mostly women) that they can com­pletely con­trol. This is espe­cially wide­spread in Japanese cul­ture, where digital “char­ac­ters” have become like pets or com­pan­ions for many people, and not just chil­dren. One com­ment­ator states that since modern life is so unpre­dict­able and com­mu­nic­a­tion so dif­fi­cult, people are looking for com­pan­ions who don’t change, who give them com­fort. De Guerre enlists a number of aca­demics to muse on the rela­tion­ship between our desires and the implic­a­tions of having a non-human rep­res­ent­a­tion to help us ful­fill them.

We meet a few Japanese men who have taken things to an extreme, with one man showing off his col­lec­tion of over forty love dolls in an apart­ment he rents espe­cially for them. A few people found some of this stuff dis­turbing and a number of them walked out, but I think these extreme cases are only her­alding the way our society may be headed. As dolls and com­puter soft­ware become more soph­ist­ic­ated, how many people will leave behind any attempt at human inter­ac­tion what­so­ever? It’s a bit creepy to con­sider, and the film con­veyed that feeling very effectively.

8/10(8/10)

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Lifelike (Canada, 2005, Director: Tally Abecassis, 52 minutes): This may very well be the first film ever made about taxi­derm­ists. Lifelike takes a whim­sical look at the people who make their living stuffing and mounting dead things. It turns out that these are people who take their jobs ser­i­ously, but not them­selves. Dave can laugh at how he decided to become a taxi­dermist one day while shop­ping with his fiancèe at Home Depot. We follow him along with a few other taxi­derm­ists as they pre­pare for the annual Canadian cham­pi­on­ships in Orillia, giving the film a sort of “Best in Show” feeling.

We also get to meet a few of the cus­tomers, including Janie, who is having her beloved Jack Russell ter­rier freeze-dried, and Benoit, a former big-game hunter with an entire house full of trophies, including a gir­affe, a tiger and a lion.

While it’s vaguely inter­esting to muse on the reasons people want trophies like these, it was more inter­esting to me to see how taxi­dermy involves ele­ments of both crafts­man­ship and artistry, and the film is most com­pel­ling when let­ting us watch these guys work. While the tone is by no means ser­ious, it also doesn’t con­des­cend, and I think the film­maker hits just the right bal­ance between amuse­ment and respect.

9/10(9/10)

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Gymnast (USA, 2005, Director: Edet Belzberg, 96 minutes): Filmed over a period of at least four years, this film fol­lows three elite gym­nasts as they try to qualify for the 2000 US women’s Olympic team. There is two-time national cham­pion Kristin, ser­ious and shy, bubbly and beau­tiful Alyssa, who tends to lose her con­cen­tra­tion at important moments, and tiny underdog Morgan, who at 15 is three years younger than the other girls but twice as driven.

Competitive sports is a deeply com­plic­ated arena for young people, and the film expresses some of the ambi­gu­ities very clearly. All three young women make very clear that they are in gym­nastics to pursue their own dreams and that they’re not under pres­sure from par­ents or coaches to do any­thing that they don’t want for them­selves. But we also see coaches who are so caught up in the com­pet­i­tion that they ignore clear signs of injury. By the time the Olympics have come and gone, none of the three seem happy, although they all made the team. Each girl came out of the exper­i­ence dam­aged, either phys­ic­ally (poor Kristin under­goes the first of many sur­geries for a stress frac­ture before the documentarian’s camera) or emo­tion­ally (Alyssa seems bitter about the whole exper­i­ence, while Morgan can’t seem to string a sen­tence together without choking up.)

It’s hard to watch people’s dreams die, but before we start pointing the finger at “the hor­rible sports industry”, we have to remember that these girls chose to put them­selves into com­pet­i­tion. All of them were not only tal­ented, but driven enough to reach the highest levels of their sport. Were they not ath­letic, they’d have had their hopes dashed in other endeav­ours, I think.

The pro­cess of real­izing that our dreams are not always attain­able is a painful mile­stone on the way to adult­hood, and though it is hard to watch it unfold in front of a camera, I came away with a real respect and affec­tion for these young people. One odd thing about the film (and this may have been delib­erate on the part of the dir­ector) is that we don’t see any other aspects of the gym­nasts’ lives. We see a very small part of their family lives, but nothing about school, nothing about their friend­ships. It’s as if they only really exist in the gym. While that may seem to be true, it’s not really true, and so I think the dir­ector uses it to heighten the ten­sion. Later in the film we finally get to see the girls dressed in street clothes, and it’s a dra­matic change.

I’m sure more than a few people will see this film as an indict­ment of youth sports, but I think that’s too simplistic. Athletic com­pet­i­tion is just one more area where eager and ideal­istic chil­dren are forged into slightly cyn­ical adults. That’s not a bad thing, but it can be dif­fi­cult to watch. I found myself cringing watching the net­work footage of the com­pet­i­tion, since I knew the injuries that each gym­nast was so care­fully trying to hide from the judges.

8/10(8/10)

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Say Amen (Israel, 2005, Director: David Dery, 65 minutes): Director David Dery is the youngest son in a large Moroccan-Jewish family. For this Orthodox clan, family and chil­dren are the first pri­ority, and for gay David, this poses a ser­ious problem. He has only shared his secret with his two sis­ters, and the rest of the family are losing patience with his singleness.

Filming over a period of sev­eral years at a series of family gath­er­ings, David slowly begins to realize that he needs to come out to his family mem­bers. For someone who has always hidden behind the camera, this is dif­fi­cult, and this film doesn’t always suc­ceed for that reason. We have an awk­ward gay Orthox Jewish man’s own coming-out home movies, and it doesn’t neces­sarily make the most coherent film. But we cer­tainly get a glimpse of a large and com­plic­ated web of familial rela­tion­ships and the incred­ible machine-like pres­sure on David to con­form. That he sum­mons the courage to actu­ally con­front this unruly brood is pretty amazing. And family being family, things are never as bad (nor as good) as they some­times first appear.

7/10(7/10)

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