We saw the first round of Oscar-nominated shorts at the Michigan Theater tonight. It was Live Action; a label that has always struck me as redundant, but I guess there has to be some distinction from animation and documentary. I supposed it could just be "Drama", since they almost always are, but that cuts out comedy and genuine "action" films, so there it is. That said, even with a few funny moments, all of the entries tonight were definitely dramas.
The first was On My Mind, a Danish film using the Elvis Presley hit as an underlying theme. The main character is a man (Rasmus Hemmerich) trying to convince a bar owner (Ole Boisen) and bartender (Camilla Bendix) to let him sing "Always on my mind" as a tribute to his beloved, whom he only identifies as "Trine." It's a character study of a few minutes, talking about the anguish that some are carrying and that the rest of the world either ignores or dismisses in cynical fashion, only to be eventually crushed by the truth in the same way that the carrier has been for who knows how long. It was well played and I appreciated the visual imagery of imagining the records left behind in the condensation of windows and tumblers. But it didn't strike me as strongly as the rest of the quintet of films did. I appreciated it for its craft and the performances, especially Bendix who presented an excellent wily bartender who isn't afraid to show her heart when she knows someone needs it. All the same, at the end I was thinking of it as "Good, but not much more than that." Certainly, it could be from the slightly jarring rendition of the song, of which I had only ever heard Willie Nelson's far more popular version. Almost as poignant as the film was discovering that writer/director, Martin Strange-Hansen, had made the film to deal with the pain of losing his own daughter. Certainly worth your 18 minutes, if you get the chance to see it.
Next up was Please Hold, an American production about a near future where the "justice" system of the US is even more automated and corporatized than the one we have now and still mostly a traumatic experience for people of color and those without the means to properly participate in it. Erick Lopez stars as Mateo, a young guy trying to get to his bad fast food job when he's arrested by a police drone, not told what crime he's supposedly committed, and tossed into a cell where everything from defense attorneys to prison labor is offered up by an automated screen, Internet pop-up ad style. It's funny because it's the same experience that most of us have when dealing with automated phone trees with every product or service merchant in existence that requires a phone call; the trees of which almost never result in a resolution of the problem but serve as a waste of time until we're eventually shepherded to a human on the other side of the planet. It's enraging because it mirrors the experience of too many in the US legal system, as they try to deal with the courts, the paperwork, and the pressure, and often have no one to talk to who can give them an actual answer about what's happening to them... unless, of course, they have the money to pay someone to navigate the system for them. The absurdity of it is what made Please Hold the closest thing to lighthearted among the offerings of the evening. The grim reality that was its primary message is what gave it tremendous depth. Have to give a nod to director, KD Davila and cinematographer, Farhad Ahmed Delvi, here, too, as the sharp camera work and visual storytelling was on point.
Following that was what I thought was the highlight of the evening: Sukienka (The Dress), a Polish student(!) film about a woman working as a motel maid who has limited her hopes because of the way society looks upon her dwarfism, but who still longs to be treasured by someone as every other person does. Flat out, Anna Dzieduszycka kills it in her role as Julka. I could tell from the preview screen that this was going to be a good story, simply from the confidence that you can see in Dzieduszycka's eyes, and my expectations were rewarded. This was the film that felt most grounded to me. Julka and her friend, Renata (Dorota Pomykala), were real people, doing a real job, and dealing with real life. Julka's humorless gaze that she carries from her single bed in one of the motel's unused rooms to the bar nearby where she plays video slot machines as an autonomic distraction is punctuated only by her expressions of longing for physical contact with someone who thinks of her as someone to be desired. When she finally finds someone who clearly has taken an interest, her desperation to fully engage the concept of a date with all the primping and expectation that most put into it is a perfect rendition of someone finally breaking a barrier that others have put around her, but one that she has also put around herself. Her attachment to incredibly rapid chain smoking is just another detail of someone looking for something to pour her existence into. Credit to writer/director, Tadeusz Lysiak, as well for never letting the camera look down on Julka. When we see her, we're always at eye level, which is how she sees herself and how we get to share her existence for half an hour. A really excellent presentation.
Then we had the most unusual entry of the night: The Long Goodbye, a British film which was an accompaniment to an album of the same name by British hip-hop star and actor, Riz Ahmed. Ahmed has been active about raising awareness of issues of racism and racial justice in Britain, especially toward South Asians and British Asians and this film was right in that wheelhouse, as it shows Riz as the brother of a young woman on her way to being married in traditional Pakistani fashion, only for a far-right march to reach their community and assault the family for being who they are. It was the shortest runtime of the night (12 minutes) and, perhaps appropriately, packed the harshest punch. It was a great rendition of people carrying on their normal lives, only to have those lives disrupted without response by either uncaring neighbors or police sympathetic with the fascists. As we continue to confront more and more of these problems in nations around the world, including right here in the US of A with the MAGAts, Proud Boys, and other groups, it's good to be reminded of what people who don't share my fortunate White skin tone have to face in terms of a much greater threat from those that would like to turn the clock back, provided it moved forward for some in the first place. The end of the film was punctuated by some of Ahmed's lyrics from the album. I remember him from the excellent The Sound of Metal and the brilliant Nightcrawler, but he's also done a great deal of other TV and film work and, as noted, is a continuing presence in the music industry, as well. Definitely someone to keep an eye and ear on if you liked him here.
Finally, we saw Ala Kachuu - Take and Run, a Swiss film set in Kyrgyzstan about a young woman subjected to the continuing practice of abduction and forced marriage and the culture of familial pride that is tied to and perpetuates this practice. The film's title is the common name for this custom, which remains widespread in Kyrgyz society. Writer/director, Maria Brendle, was motivated to make the film because of its common presence in the country, but the equally common ignorance to the existence of the practice outside it. She's right in my case, as I had no idea. I spent a lot of the film trying to figure out where it was set, because I couldn't understand the writing of a "Help Wanted" sign that the lead and victim of the film, Sezim (Alina Turdumamatova) saw, but could see that most of the other signage in the capital of Bishkek that she encountered was in Cyrillic. There's a lot that most don't know about the Central Asian former SSRs and this is part of it. But it was presented as a wholly realistic and deeply affecting story about some members of a society trying to transition to a new way of living, while family and older members of that society are less willing to change. Turdumamatova's constant outrage at being swept from the precipice of a university education to being the wife-prisoner of a hinterland farmer resonates from her at every moment of the film, to the point where you find yourself stewing in frustration that this is the fate of both her character and so many other women in the real world. It's practically the definition of someone viewed as an object, rather than a person, and Brendle makes sure that that message comes across, but doesn't beat you over the head with it. Jandat Djamanbaeva also does well as the sympathetic grandmother of Sezim's "husband" who tries to console her new granddaughter in whatever way custom allows, in contrast to all of the surrounding women, who view Sezim as ungrateful, including her own mother. It's a really solid film from a not-often-seen corner of the world.
