Issue
YOZZIE OZMAN REVIEWS KELLY GALLAGHER’S
The Herstory of the Female Filmmaker
Who’s your favourite female filmmaker? The question puzzles many, particularly several of director Kelly Gallagher’s friends at the beginning of The Herstory of the Female Filmmaker. A collection of animated faces struggle to find an answer- one friend divulges “I guess the girl that did American Psycho is pretty good”, and another manages to name Sofia Coppola. With the overall response looking a bit thin on the ground, Gallagher’s informative, dynamic response proves this ‘herstory’ is one that we really should recognise. Split into four chapters, The Herstory of the Female Filmmaker covers a wealth of prolific filmmakers- from Alice Guy-Blaché, who made the first narrative film in 1896, to Kimberly Reed and Glen Haworth, two filmmakers who have broken real ground for the transgender community. It’s a great counter-argument to any belief that
Screened at Reel Women July 2015
there’s ever been a shortage of significant female filmmakers. With an eccentric aesthetic, The Herstory of the Female Filmmaker uses impressive visuals and a riotous, punk soundtrack to provocatively prove its point. A variety of animation techniques are innovatively put together, complete with a myriad of vibrant colours and striking images. The overall feel is rebellious and effective. By the end of this vibrant animated documentary you are left with a clear message. Firstly, that the female contribution to filmmaking has been vast and plentiful, and secondly, it’s disgraceful that such a contribution can be so overlooked. THE HERSTORY... screened at July’s REEL WOMEN event to great acclaim!
MYTHOPOLIS Alexandra Hetmerovà’s Mythopolis is a delightful, humourous tale that artfully places classic Greek mythological characters in a modern setting. The story centres around a small minotaur who lives with his mother in a city apartment. His mother happens to be Medusa, who, in her quest for love, accidentally turns all her dates into stone. It takes our central minotaur to get lost on his way home for things to take a turn. Much of the appeal in this short lies in how relatable the story is, despite its legendary characters. They initially appear to be out of place, but themes of single parenthood, love and childhood all make the tale as relevant as any modern drama. It’s also completely engaging and heart-warming with every detail, from the glorious cartoon style to the repetition of a catchy flute motif. Subtle humour is added in the choice of characters- from Medusa herself to the three blind Graeae witches, complete with wandering eye. Hetmerovà’s Mythopolis reminds us of joy of companionship and the importance of family with a successfully uncomplicated plot. The simple narrative and lack of dialogue means that it relies unfailingly on the strength of its animation, which manages to be expressive without trying to be too sophisticated. It is a wellimagined family tale that skilfully takes fantastical creatures and brings them safely into our world.
Screened at Reel Women July 2015
- Yozzie Osman
Screened at Reel Women July 2015
CRACKS IN THE PAVEMENT
Luck and wishes linger in the frame... CRACKS IN THE PAVEMENT, director Kayleigh Barnes’ ephemeral rotoscope animation, is a series of vivid yet stripped down sketches that manage in a single minute to evoke both a sense of summer and summer’s end. A come-to-life drawing of a skateboarder coasts down the walkway; a dandelion unfurls and goes to seed. Once picked, individual seeds scatter from it, exhaled by a breath from lips that almost seem to kiss the air. Scenes briefly flare on the blank page, limited impressions with little background. All focus is simplified to the lines we see, in a sense of continuous movement and the passage of time. The film’s audio accompaniment is the sound of the skateboard wheels crossing the breaks in the pavement, layered with children’s voices that suggest an unseen playground nearby. A fragmented reflection on a season, it fills its brief runtime with sparse but connotative imagery and layers of inference. Luck and wishes linger in the frame as the breeze lifts the dandelion seeds into the air. The skateboarder turns a corner and seems to stop; whether or not that’s so, it’s where we end. - Ann Linden
Ann Linden reviews
the lie of a poppy head Screened at Reel Women July 2015
THE LIE OF A POPPY HEAD, from director Georgia Wen, is a minute and a half of delicately rendered heat shimmer caught in a frame. A volley of light crosses a cityscape; through an open window, blossoms unfurl in a figure’s hand and the scene moves out, through the city, into the countryside beyond. A gently lit, flickering dream brought on by opiate promise of release and rest, there’s a mirage-like quality to the soft line drawings of the pictures, minimalist rosy textures and shades on a lighter, warm background. Small figures crop up, wavering and infused with color and light, and in song exhort the dreamer to rest and be at peace. Tiny things are lovely here: quick strokes as hands push aside grass, figures moving in pairs in the streets of the city. The premise in the title, the lie or temporal nature of peace, comfort, and even bliss, is almost forgotten, so vivid is the dream, but the scene reverses, and the flower falls away from the hands of the dreamer. A shaky surrealism pervades: there’s a little too much wavering, a little too strong of a shiver as the flowers unfold, for the scene to feel wholly peaceful. In the last frame, the city shimmers again in the heat. One more poppy and the dream could start over.
GHOSTBUSTRESSES
Some women, like Dr Who’s chum the Master, don’t object to feminisation of job descriptions. They see it as empowering - it’s much harder to get ahead professionally as a woman, so to identify as a woman in a position of power is a badge of honour. However, there are disadvantages in the world of film and television. One recurring argument for the use of the word “actress” is that there is an award for “best actress”, so it would be silly for an “actor” to win that award. This argument is extremely glib and deliberately overlooks the fact that the awards system is designed to protect the ego of the male actor. So far as shiny trophies and glamorous ceremonies are concerned, a woman’s acting skill can’t be ranked above a man’s. Why on earth not? It’s easy to win “best actress” if you are the only female lead in a film - and there is usually only one, tops. If a woman won “best actor”, though, many of her male co-stars would do a wee in their pants. Also a poo. Lots of women’s job titles are just derivations of the male form - and we all know that’s ridiculous and unfair, and nobody would ever call a female spook exterminator a “ghostbustress” ffs because she is not using her vagina to bust; she is using an ecto-containment system. They didn’t call Ernie Hudson a blacktor, although they may as well have done, to add insult to the injury of his spare screentime. So let’s take “actor” back, please. [cont’d on back page]
Screened at Reel Women July 2015
my mum is an airplane MY MUM IS AN AIRPLANE, from director Yulia Aronova, is narrated by a small boy whose mother is a real live airplane. There are, he explains, lots of kinds of mothers, naming among others, scientists and princesses and trucks with a sincere, unaffected diversity of identity and occupation. The mother-plane flies over land, sea, and cityscapes, trailing the boy by his hand. They deliver the post together, to people and places and a letter to the Eiffel Tower itself. A massive military plane is charmed by the mother, salutes, and offers her flowers; a snowcapped mountain spits a fiery lava of excitement at the mother’s approach. Flocks of birds cross their path, heavy winds blow the mother off course, but everything always comes right in the end. Smiling skyscrapers duck down level to let her pass. Even a storm with a massive fist of clouds can’t stop the mother, who punctures it like a balloon with an umbrella. With much the feel of a children’s book come to life, MY MUM is packed with compelling and unexpected plot twists, and an internal logic of its own (of course if a mother can be an airplane, the Eiffel Tower is happy to get mail). Richly textured and vividly colored, the animations glide and whirl past, in strong dark strokes. The ending hints at, if not a sequel, a world more fully developed than is here explored. - Ann Linden
GHOSTBUSTRESSES
CONTINUED
So are we all going to be precious about the Ghostbusters reimagined as women? The Ghostbusters are an emergency service, after all - and nobody wants to be rescued by a female firefighter (they are scared of singeing their hair), or have a woman lead a police car chase (you can’t chase a criminal effectively whilst driving erratically within the speed limit). Three of the Ghostbusters are parapsychologists - well, there are female lego scientists now, so we should be able to swallow that without a spoonful of sugar. However, Ghostbusters are funny, funny-looking and middle-aged - and we can just about handle a funny woman but she really needs to be easy on the eye and under 25 - or a token fatso - if she’s going to appear on the big screen. The Ghostbusters need to be practical and rational in the face of the paranormal - the originals are white-collar intellectuals with doctorates but they welcome a black marine as the fourth ‘buster, and they’re not afraid to wade through a sewer, or get soaked in ectoplasm. That’s not the kind of thing you will usually see a woman do on-screen. If she wades through a sewer, she will come out unscathed, with her top clinging to her bra-less torso and an aesthetically placed little smear of poop on her cheek. If she gets slimed it’s going to look NSFW. We need our female Ghostbusters to be real and down-to-earth. The original ‘busters break down societal barriers - they address a cop, a mayor, an ancient god all in the same way - just as people. A reboot with female leads encourages/ enables us to see women in film as people, and not just muses, prizes, mothers and sluts. Crack open the exotic art deco of a woman and you’ll find that she’s no mystery - she’s just as clarty, clumsy and chaotic as a man. Read Rosy Rockets’ full blog post at takeonecff.com
Our cover artist this month is Lilith Cooper, who drew this month’s cover art when they were supposed to be serving the fine people of Cambridge coffee. They are the best, even Stephen Fry thinks so. Find them on twitter: @Coops_LJ
©TAKE ONE ©HACKED OFF FILMS REEL WOMEN 2015