Nisimazine San Sebastian 2014 #1

Nisimazine

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REVIEW 22nd September 2014

SAN SEBASTIĂ N

the magazine by NISI MASA - European Network of Young Cinema

Not all is Vigil Girlhood The Tribe The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby Maialen Beloki from Not all is Vigila by Hermes Paralluelo

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Editorial Despite the fact that we are on only on our second edition, the San Sebastian Film Festival is fast becoming an obligatory stop for the Nisimazine army. In more ways than one, this event is perfectly designed for a large group of young European writers, photographers and video bloggers: it´s active, dynamic and a source of energetic inspiration.

For decades the event has been the single most important and relevant window to Latin cinema coming from both sides of the Atlantic. This 62nd edition is no exception and once again the crowds roaming around this uniquely exquisite Basque sea side town are being treated to a wide range of Latin productions. It could have not come at a better and more vital time. Those of you paying more attention have surely noticed that 2014 has not been the most vigorous year for Latin cinema, with most festivals struggling to showcase a wide variety of such films. There are exceptions of course, including some heavyweights such as Damián Szifron´s Wild tales, Lisandro Alonso´s Jauja or Bejamín Naishtat´s History of Fear, all also on display here in San Sebastian. Yet, regardless of these golden exceptions you can´t help but feel

CREDITS NISIMAZINE SAN SEBASTIÁN 18 - 27 / 09 2014 Edition of 22nd September 2014

Latin cinema has been somewhat underrepresented.

Above all, Spanish cinema has been the greatest victim, undoubtedly a result of the disastrous budget cuts inflicted in this age of austerity. Fear not though, San Sebastian to set the record straight and remind us that not all is lost, quite the contrary. This year there are is no lack of Spanish films in competition or simply being screened all throughout the event, giving us a hint that solutions are being found to maintain this powerhouse of European cinema alive and kicking. One such examples is surely Not all is Vigil (page 3), by the Spaniard Hermes Paralluelo, a impressive look at a death fearing elderly couple, which caused quite a sensation in the first few moments of the festival. And it was not the only one.

In the following days we will be throwing your way the usual avalanche of reviews and interviews, showing you all that is Latin and much more, so don´t rove too far, we are just starting.

Fernando Vasquez (Portugal)

EDITORIAL STAFF Director Fernando Vasquez Design & Coordination Francesca Merlo, Luisa Riviere, Lucía Ros Serra Communication Ewa Wildner Contributors to this issue Robyn Davis, Simran Hans, Kathi Kamleitner, Sara Marínez, Mariana Mendes (photographer).

NISI MASA European Network of Young Cinema 99 Rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis 75010, Paris, France +33 (0)1 48 01 65 31 europe@nisimasa.com www.nisimasa.com www.nisimazine.eu A magazine published by NISI MASA in the framework of a film journalism workshop for young Europeans Special thanks to José Luis Rebordinos , Gemma Beltrán and Nekane Miranda

With the support of the Youth in Action of the European Union. This project has been funded with support from the European Commission. This publication reflects the views only of the author, and the Commission cannot be held responsible for any use which may be made of the information contained therein.

@ Mariana Mendes

Picture of the day

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REVIEW

Not all is Vigil Hermes Paralluelo, SPAIN / COLOMBIA - New Directors

The inevitability of growing old is undoubtedly a fear that’s rooted within all of us. Losing your physical capabilities and your youthful good looks, loneliness, boredom – the list of worries is seemingly endless. At least, that’s what it feels like in Hermes Paralluelo’s stark debut feature Not all Vigil, a film that tackles all of the above in such detail that it has its audience experiencing the aging process too, each relentless minute feeling like a year.

When Felisa, 82, discovers that her equally elderly husband has requested to go into a care home after his stay in hospital, she is concerned that her life will change for the worse, and upon the arrival of a letter from social services (perhaps granting his wish), she does everything in her power to keep him with her. Her dependency on Antonio is pushed to extremes, and it’s clear that the two yearn for days gone past - can their lifestyle and their relationship be maintained? Or is it doomed to deteriorate, just like their ancient house and their own bodies?

It’s not the most light-hearted of subject matters – even less so upon learning that the couple on screen are actually Paralluelo’s parents in real life. This knowledge gives the already bleak documentary style of filming an even darker edge, and as we observe their laboured routines and sad silences we can’t help but wonder just how close to reality the film comes. However, their relationship also provides some rather charming moments and is the source of much of the film’s comedy. Their constant bickering is amusing and relatable (expect to be fondly reminded of parents and grandparents), and Felisa’s increasingly dramatic attempts to keep Antonio at home - “I’m dying, I can’t take it any longer!” – are at times laugh-out-loud funny. It’s clear in these moments that the

choice to use real people rather than actors was a wise one, as it creates the kind of dynamic that would be difficult to replicate were it not sincere.

Paralluelo’s techniques in portraying elderly life are incredibly accurate and effective to the point of being flawed, and it’s really in this aspect that the film loses its footing. Shots of dark, deserted corridors and loud and isolating medical scans perfectly encapsulate a sense of loneliness, but so frequent are these sequences that sometimes it feels as if we, as an audience, have been abandoned too – left to watch their lives with little concern for our own entertainment or enjoyment. Similarly, the acute attention to detail becomes almost infuriating when forced to witness the characters walk to the front door or climb the stairs time and time again, all in agonising slow motion. A repeated cycle of irritation and guilt doesn’t make for a very fun viewing experience, but it does highlight the film’s key themes: do we give up on the elderly too easily? Should we be more patient? Perhaps in this respect, Paralluelo is a more accomplished director than he initially appears.

There’s no denying that Not all is Vigil stays true to reality, though ultimately this is more of a burden than a bonus. And if you weren’t afraid of getting old before the film, you certainly will be after it.

Robyn Davies (UK)

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REVIEW

bra off in triumph with a penknife. These fight sequences mirror the physicality of the opening sequence, giving these young women the opportunity to show their physical and mental strength.

Girlhood Céline Sciamma, France - Pearls While Sciamma’s Water Lilies and Tomboy explored similar themes of youth, femininity and identity, Girlhoood sees a change of pace for the director. Crackling with frenetic energy, Céline Sciamma’s third outing is her boldest yet. Focusing on sixteen year-old Marieme (Karidja Touré), an under-achieving tomboy living on the outskirts of Paris, Sciamma looks at the perils, pleasures and pressures of being a teenage girl.

Desperate to escape the vice-like grip of her violent, overprotective brother and the responsibility of taking care of her younger sisters, Marieme takes up with a tough, jean-jacketed trio led by ‘Lady’ (Assa Sylla). Swapping her sweatpants for a leather jacket and a sultry, lipsticked pout, she joins Lady, Adiatou (Lindsay Karamoh) and Fily (Marietou Touré) for an afternoon at the shopping mall. Impressed by Marieme’s resoluteness, Lady rewards her with a gold nameplate necklace that reads ‘Vic’ -- as in ‘Victory’.

The film’s opening sequence, an all-female American football match played out in slow-motion, set to throbbing eighties electropop, sees the girls tackling one another with a vigour that is often reserved for their male counterparts. Sciamma does not shy away from the toughness that is required of these girls. Lady prepares for a public fight, applying red lipstick like war paint in a local kebab shop, only to be beaten savagely by a ‘hood rival. Later, in an act of solidarity, Marieme takes part in a fight on Lady’s behalf, kicking her opponent to the ground and cutting her lace

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It’s not all doom and gloom though; Girlhood glows and pulsates with life. Sciamma captures the purity of female friendship; the girls sleep in a pile like kittens, hugging and dancing with each other. The film’s high point sees the girls renting a hotel room with money they have stolen from their peers. They throw a private party, spiking their Coca-Cola with whiskey, luxuriating in bubble baths and blowing smoke rings in their shoplifted dresses. The party reaches a crescendo with a transfixing dance sequence set to Rihanna’s ‘Diamonds’. The girls mime the lyrics in mock-music video fashion; shot through a blue filter, they appear like a fever dream. Marieme watches on shyly, desperate to join but still unsure. The camera closes in on Touré’s astonishingly expressive face, bathed in yellow light and piercingly youthful. And then something clicks; she gets up to join the other girls, surrendering to the moment and choosing not to be broken any more.

Girlhood is punctuated by four cut-to-black inserts, which divide the film into four acts. While acts one, two and three track Marieme’s realisation, assimilation and resignation within a conventional narrative arc, the film’s fourth act muddies Sciamma’s otherwise clean structure. Sciamma eschews any happily-ever-after resolution by plunging Marieme into a dark, adult world without the support of her peers. These later scenes, which see Marieme in a blonde wig selling drugs to Paris’ elite, are a jarring departure from exuberant mood of the rest of the film.

The society within which these girls operate strips them of autonomy and choice; they are not allowed to be strong and independent and vulnerable and sexual. For girls, there are only two roles; the virgin and the whore. To be considered “une fille bien” – “a decent girl” – Marieme must choose a dead-end life of conformity and social stagnation. At its heart though, the film is about the power of female friendship, of sisterhood, of girls sticking together in tough times. The film’s final act drives home Sciamma’s point: that without sisterhood, girlhood is a lonely place.

Simran Hans (UK)

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The Tribe Myroslav Slaboshpytskiy, Ukraine - Pearls In his first feature Ukrainian filmmaker Myroslav Slaboshpytskiy tells the story of teenager Sergey, who enters a boarding school and gets caught in a web of crime and prostitution. He seems to be an ordinary teenager struggling to find his place and the acceptance of others. But what makes this film so exceptional is, that Sergey and his classmates are not ordinary - they are deaf-mute and communicate in sign language.

What takes it even further is Slaboshpytskiy’s decision to show the film without subtitles nor voice-over, and the graphic depiction of sex and violence.

Despite this, it is easy to follow the action. As Sergey moves up in the hierarchy of the Tribe his restraint for sex and violence decreases.

His interest in fellow student and prostitute Anna takes on surprising dimensions. At first she seems to give her body for pleasure, not money.

Yana Novikova delivers by far the most impressive performance of the film. Her character has to endure humiliation and excruciating pain, which the young deaf-mute actress transfers with great determination.

At points she embodies a confident woman with hope for a better life, in others a fragile soul lost in her own naivety.

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Most individual scenes are so long, Alfonso Cuaron would take a bow.

There are extremely few cuts, which give the audience a feeling of participation,but also observation. Through them Slaboshpytskiy allows the story and characters to unfold very naturally, and the viewers accustomed to the unusual cinematic experience. But it feels in no way slow o unnecessary - every image is laid out in exact detail. The movements of the actors, both of their bodies and their gestures, are neatly choreographedTheir interactions are characterised by awareness for themselves and others, their body language feels exaggerated almost like in a musical, like the Sharks of West Side Story, you almost expect them to break into song.

Of course they do not and the immense effort that it must have taken to direct the crew becomes clear. Shooting with actual deaf actors was definitely no decision for an easy way.

In its visual style The Tribe is the perfect incarnation of «the moving image». Slaboshpytskiy and his DOP, Valentyn Vasyanovych, frame every scene like a painting. Gracefully the characters flow in and out of sight, drawing attention to the action happening in various layers of the image. There are no close-ups to facilitate empathy, the gaze remains always on the bigger picture. Without taking on voyeuristic terms, the filmmaker enforces the idea that no one is innocent in this circle of crime.

Adults, or at least those who could serve as responsible role models, are completely absent. Their surroundings are made up of desolated houses covered in graffiti and the sparsely equipped barracks they call their school. Making use of the characteristic gritty social realism of Eastern European cinema, Slaboshpytskiy presents a pessimistic view not only upon the Ukrainian society – which surely increased its relevance due to recent events - but also of the universal state of forlornness this future generation is in. With unusual and to the bone minimalistic means he creates a painting rather than a film, a piece of art that draws you in completely.

Kathi Kamleitner (UK)

work the best. One particularly tender scene sees the two lying in the grass of Tompkins Square Park, surrounded by tiny glowing fireflies. It is this attention to the details of their love story that makes their separation all the more painful to watch. While both actors bring a palpable chemistry to their respective roles, it is Chastain who truly shines. A radiant vivacity lurks beneath her grief and sadness, Chastain’s wide eyes conveying a fiery depth that makes it easy to invest in her story.

The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby Ned Benson, USA - Pearls What happens when Harvey and Bob Weinstein see your double feature at the Toronto Film Festival? Ned Benson’s The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them is what happens. Originally conceived as two separate films (Him and Her), writer-director Benson recut his first feature just in time for the Cannes submission deadline. The result is a smart, carefullycrafted romantic drama that looks at life and death through the lens of love.

Former anthropology student Eleanor (Jessica Chastain) and indie restaurant owner Conor (James McAvoy) are madly in love. Whether they’re doing a dine-and-dash in an East Village restaurant or making out like teenagers in the front seat of Conor’s car, their romance is so intense, it verges on insanity. That is, until a tragic event splinters the couple, forcing them to question who they are when they aren’t within the confines of a relationship.

Benson tracks the rise and fall of Eleanor and Conor’s magnetic pushpull relationship, though it’s the moments of love rather than loss that

For the most part, The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby is an accomplished first feature, though some of the film’s dialogue is a little clunky, with lines like “tragedy is a foreign country” spoken in earnest. The film is lifted by its strong supporting cast, which includes a roster of impressive names including William Hurt, Isabelle Huppert and Viola Davis.

Davis in particular is a joy to watch, her straight-talking psychiatrist’s sharp cynicism cutting through occasionally po-faced script.

Benson lights the film using two distinctive colour palettes; Conor’s perspective is shot in shades of moody blue, while Eleanor’s scenes are characterised by a warm golden glow. This subtle shift in lighting enables Benson to represent both perspectives, allowing him to show how different people mediate grief and heartbreak. However, this technique hints that the original iterations of the film are two tonally differentmood pieces – pieces that might work better individually.

Though Benson claims that it was his decision, not the Weinsteins’, to condense Him and Her into a shorter single film, it’s frustrating to watch it with the prior knowledge that we aren’t being given the full story.

Benson has revealed plans for two-stage distribution; a wide release for Them and an art house release for Him and Her. Sensitive, moving and eschewing saccharine, The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them is a worthy addition to the American indie canon. However, while this two-hour cut is deeply felt, more commercially viable option than the original version, there is the nagging sense that the other, less polished versions might be even more compelling.

Simran Hans (UK)

ŠMariana Mendes

Interview with

Maialen Beloki

Selection Committee Member of the San Sebastian Film Festival - Spain Maialen Beloki is a young Basque woman rising quickly within the structure of the San Sebastian Film Festival. Arriving to develop a project that would connect the event with younger film professionals and students, she is now, alongside her role in the International Film Students Meeting section, also a valuable new member in the selection committee.

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She is clearly playing all the right cards and setting herself into key positions that will allow her to play an even great role in the future of the industry.

As such we could not let this chance go to waste, so we sat down with her to hear her views on young people´s situation in the local film industry.

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INTERVIEW

What is the role of the festival in this meeting point between industry and the new generation of Spanish filmmakers?

We have two different programs. There is an International Film Students Meeting where we bring many film professionals to talk about their experience and let the students know about how the industry works. There we try to create a good environment to develop networking, which is the best way to find their opportunities. On the other hand, we also have what we call “Industry Club”, where we organize a lot of activities to help new talents, as well as people in trouble to finish their projects, through “European-Latin American Co-Production Forum” or “Films in Progress”.

We are talking about industry but in a film festival like this one the role of the film critic is also very important, which is also practiced by young writers.

Personally I feel a little bit uncomfortable making a quick judgement because a critic has the power to praise or destroy a film. In fact, filmmakers are really scared of journalist, especially in this festival context because their opinion influences the future career of the film. I think it should be taken as a big responsibility. I have a lot of respect for what has been written, many people will read it and in addition to that it stays available, and influential, forever, so we have to be conscious of its value.

Your arrival on the selection committee, alongside being coordinating the student activity, was understood as a breath of fresh air in an already consolidated festival. Do you think that the film industry in Spain is open-minded enough towards new voices?

Actually there are already some examples of new filmmakers supported by the industry like Fernando Franco, Carlos Vermut or Borja Cobeaga. In those cases you can see how the industry is starting, little by little, new directors with new points of view, indeed different than the canonical ones.

Though arriving to that point is terribly complicated, there is not enough space for everybody. In addition most of these new filmmakers have to balance directing their projects and working somewhere else. Maybe the lesson is learning to be cross-functional if you want to do what you really like, and be able to live with it too. I’m not going to defend precariousness either though. I think that making cinema should provide you with enough to live, not to become rich, but indeed to live.

Some of these names that you point started making praised shorts, nowadays there is a trend in making a “low cost” feature films instead. Do you think this is the future?

Recent technologic revolutions means that today the access to the necessary sources to make a short, a feature or a seven hours film is easier. But making a film doesn’t mean immediately going inside the commercial circuits or festivals, and in that point the Spanish industry is still traditional, because it keeps working in the same way than it used to do in the last few decades. We just have a few successful names, like Carlos Vermut, whose first feature, Diamond flash, was shot with a really short budget. But he managed to make an impression and now he is in the festival presenting his second film in the Official Selection. But this is an uncommon example. The problem that I see is reaching professionali-

zation. That is what we are trying to do with the International Film Students Meeting because harder than having the sources to make a film, new filmmakers need to know who to access in specific areas of the industry. And we also help them with pitching and networking. Although you can make a film easier nowadays, stepping on the industry field t is still complicated.

How do you feel the atmosphere amongst young filmmakers or film students?

I think that people who are just starting have a lot of opposite feelings. Above all they are very enthusiastic people and they still believe in giving it all to reach their objectives, so they are pretty positive, but at the same time they are totally aware of how difficult the enterprise is. I think the most important is providing them the tools to help them to do their best, because they are confused. There are plenty of hopes but also worries.

Lately there has been much talk about public and institutional support. Does a young filmmaker really need it?

Yes, of course. We don’t have to underestimate it despite the crisis context when culture seems to be the last thing to invest in.I’m not only talking about institutional support but also private sponsorship because it means wealth. Investing in cinema is not only a matter of cultural profit but also economical return. In our case, we made a research about it and we found out that it returns around five times the investment in terms of hospitality and bars, commerce, transports and also positioning the city abroad, which is good for our future.Although we feel really supported it is also true that there is a general malaise in the industry which I totally understand. We don’t have to ignore it.

Sara Martínez (Spain)

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