“Somos malas, podemos ser peores” We are evil, we can be even more evil.
The notes of a trumpet in the silence of a recording room seem to foretell the roar of an earthquake. This is how Dora Garcia’s documentary opens, almost concealing – albeit temporarily – the disruptive force of what it will be its main subject. Music is, indeed, the seed of this work, whose title is the Spanish translation of “Wenn ich mir was wünschen dürfte”, a song by the German composer Friedrich Holländer… if I could desire something. The delicate recording sessions alternate with the intense images of the feminist movement’s fights, which have overwhelmed Mexico City for five years. The disappointment and the unheard suffering of women have been going on for so long that the sadness, the vulnerability derived from abandonment have transformed in shield and sword at the same time. This is what the song communicates, echoing for the entire duration of the film.
Mexico, torn apart by femicides and continuous disappearings, is the centre of a global plague, of a social emergency which has to be narrated as the product of a centuries-old culture and not as the result of few, isolated cases. “Every minute of every week they kidnap our friends, they kill our sisters” sing the women of Mexico City, showing their green handkerchiefs in support of legal abortion or the colourful signs which symbolize, one by one, the rights they claim. The march is irrepressible, it permeates the city and then resolves itself into destruction: the only weapon these women have left in order to be heard. It is through union that the individual vulnerabilities interweave in a defence network which allows women and little girls to reclaim the street, a place so ordinary, and yet almost prohibited to the one who walks alone. And it is precisely to those lonely women that the chants are addressed: “You are not alone”, “If they touch one, we will all answer”, “Yes, I believe you”.
An Abbreviated Manual to Free Cinema from Reality – Avi Mograbi’s Documentarist Forays, the title of Israeli director’s masterclass, is fairly self-explanatory. It closely mirrors the title of his film, The First 54 Years – An Abbreviated Manual for Military Occupation, which has been presented in the TFFDoc / non-competing section, and it mirrors its approach as well.
In both cases the director starts from specific images – the full-length features Z32 (2008) and The First 54 Years in the case of the masterclass and the archive of interviews belonging to the Breaking the Silence association in the case of the film – to be able to push for deeper thoughts in the respective fields, in this case military strategy and documentary films.
Thanks to this empiric process The First 54 Years allows the director to create a manual on military occupation techniques through the observation of multiple testimonies.
In very much the same way the director has used his two films as indisputable examples during the masterclass to show off the various possibilities of reality cinema. Although the two documentaries are based on the same source material, they go in different directions leading to two very different results. Z32 is entirely based on a war veteran’s ponderings about the actions he has committed throughout his military service. The First 54 Years, on the other hand, refuses any possibility of elaborating trauma, focusing instead on witnesses’ tales which expose facts and mechanisms regarding the Israeli occupation. As previously mentioned, the source material for both documentaries is made up of soldiers’ testimonies which have been collected by Breaking the Silence, an association founded by Mograbi himself with the aim of telling the story and the brutality of the Israeli occupation of Palestine and to keep alive those memories which governments from 1967 onwards have attempted to erase.
Z32 was created with the idea of making a fairly straightforward film telling the story of a soldier who regrets having taken part in a retaliatory action against Palestinian policemen. The possibility of making a movie centered around the emotions and thoughts of the soldier is hampered by the fact that the man does not want his face to be shown. This was solved thanks to the director’s intuition to cover the soldier’s face with a 3D digital mask which still left his eyes and mouth visible, thus enabling him to show his emotions. This solution notwithstanding, the veteran still found it hard to express himself freely. Mograbi then decided to give the soldier a camera, to allow him to autonomously reflect upon his actions. At this time the man’s girlfriend becomes a relevant figure, given that she takes part in the soldier’s ponderings and opposing his attempts to absolve himself. At the same time, the director is questioning the moral dilemmas surrounding his film: is it fair to hide a murderer inside one’s work? It is fair to exploit his story? These thoughts are told by the director via songs, almost as if the musical were a mask used to filter his reflections, similarly to what happens to the protagonist.
The First 54 Years moves in a different direction. In this case Mograbi uses a number of testimonies from Breaking the Silence’s archives, in order to make a film made up of a series of interviews. Mograbi focuses here on tales of actions, procedures, orders and mechanisms of Israeli military operations in Palestina, leading the viewer like a military tactics expert. The director, like a modern Machiavelli, recites passages of an imaginary military occupation manual which uses the Israeli case – from the 1967 West Bank occupation to the first and second Intifadas – as an examples to prove its points. These are harsh words which contrast strongly with Mograbi as a person, in a powerful attack towards the Israeli state confirming, once again, the director’s ability to question reality, internalize it and decline it in different ways – ironically, cinically, experimentally – which are always functional to a critical analysis of the world.
«I have the impression that the more massive our communication is, and the more we consume points of view and opinions, the more superficial that communication gets». This is how Ronny Trocker comments on the subject of his film which, by observing the reactions of the different members of what seems to be the perfect German family – educated, wealthy and bilingual – following a little break-in at their beach house, examines human relationships and the dynamics, often disfunctional, underlying them.
Inspired by true events narrated in the homonymous novel by Enrico Costa of 1884, Il muto di Gallura is the only Italian feature film in competition at TFF 39. In mid-nineteenth-century Sardinia, a feud broke out between two Gallura families, triggering a conflict that lasts for several years, through a chain of reciprocal wrongs. In the name of the ancient and sacred law of retaliation, 70 people are killed, many by the hand of a deaf-mute boy, Bastiano Tarsu.
On his cinematographic debut, Qi Rui proposes in the Contest section Torino 39 the touching story of Zhang Jixiang (Li Yingchun), a twelve-year-old girl running from an oppressive and suffocating world. The main character lives in an extremely poor little town in the Chinese mountains, when, one day, she becomes her classmates’ target as she is falsely accused of stealing.
“If I survive, I’ll kill you all”. Bull (Neil Maskell), addressing his enemies, who were once his family, utters these words which would belong in the banal prologue to a classic revenge movie. The British director, however, astonishes the audience of Torino Film Festival ’39 and presents an extraordinary work which finds its essence not in the unexpected and desperate need for revenge but in a ruthless search for salvation.
Thanks to the perfect restoration of the “Cinematography Sperimental Center”, particularly careful to the sound tracks editing (very important for the point of the movie), and the presentation in the “Back to Life” section of TFF39, the Turin audience was able to see, most likely for the first time, “Number One” by Gianni Buffardi (1973). The movie is pervaded by a conscious madness and clarity of purpose, often unknown to the “crime-genre movies”, which in that period filled Italian theatres
Presented out of competition at TFF39, “Quattordici giorni” is the fourth feature film directed by Ivan Cotroneo, an acknowledged Italian television author and screenwriter, who decided to turn into a movie one of his novels from 2020, co-written with Monica Rametta, who was also involved in the screenwriting of the movie.
Never-ending opening credits, accompanied by shots of race cars burning rubber and going around in endless circles open the first feature film by Philippe Grégoire, premiered in competition at TFF39. The film, without sacrificing its biting humour, recounts a piece of Alexander Mastrogiuseppe’s life (Robert Naylor), a boy raised in Napierville, a remote and forgotten Canadian village, who leaves his birthplace to go work as a customs officer on the border between the US and Canada. Grégorie describes the same path which he has walked himself, going from living in his hometown to working as a customs officer, to be able to pay for his film studies. Migration towards a different world is just one of many points of contact between the director’s life and the protagonist’s. Indeed, he focuses on the cultural background to which he is bound, thanks to the racetrack built by his grandparents in Napierville.
C’è un soffio di vita soltanto, presented in the section “Fuori concorso / L’incanto del reale”, tells the story of Luciano Salani, the oldest living transsexual in Italy, whose existence was marked by survival in the Dachau concentration camp. Starting from the idea of making a documentary on the story of a survivor, Botrugno and Coluccini find themselves faced with a character who goes far beyond any possible categorisation. Lucy is fluid, multifaceted, alien. A fluidity that emerges right from her choice to keep her first name: Luciano. The proposal to officially change her name to a feminine one, made several times to Lucy, has always received a negative answer. The name is not seen as a label to define her gender, but represents the memory of her parents, a memory that forges Lucy Salani’s personality.
The incorruptible agent Cheung Sung-bong (Donnie Yen) and his former partner Yau Kong-nao (Nicholas Tse) portray two faces of the same coin: facing each other is more or less like watching your own reflection through an opaque glass without recognizing yourself. Their destinies, indissolubly interwoven, could have switched, if they would have made different choices a long time ago. But now that the past is knocking at their door the time has come at last to settle the score.
The radiant lightheartedness of youth in 1940s France, scourged by anti-Semitic laws. “Une jeune fille qui va bien” is the debut full-length movie by Sandrine Kiberlain, presented in May during la Semaine de la Critique in Cannes and in competition at the Torino Film Festival 39.
Bipolar inaugurates the new section of the Torino Film Festival called “Incubator”, a new space dedicated to idiosyncratic gazes, to what cannot be pigeonholed. A feverish creative buzz that Queena Li perfectly conveys in her movie.
The film director looks at the empty flat where he has lived for twenty-five years. It is for sale, it is bare. The walls, empty and livid, evoke memories, raise deep investigations through the memories. The movie begins with an empty house that fills itself, in the half-light, with the past childhood of those who lived there. Presented in the section “International competition.Doc” at the TFF39, Marko Grba Singh’s documentary reaches a powerful level of intimacy. Being almost a cinematographic biography, Rampart grasps and re-elaborates the director’s personal history and with it a painful extract of the history of his country: the war that, like a sudden storm, striked Belgrado on March 24th of 1999.
Extraneous Matter – Complete Edition starts as an intimist movie with a “modest” (but steady) black and white 4:3 format and the familiar image of a bonsai, followed by a close-up of a sleeping girl who, once she has woken up, makes herself some coffee. Later the film, once the episodic nature is revealed, unexpectedly expands its gaze and leaves the domestic dimension of the girl’s house (who is not the main character) to turn to other characters and to the big city. In this way, it extends its reflection to a universal dimension deeply related to the demons of the contemporaneity.
The Chadian word “Lingui” implies the precept of harmonic cohabitation between the members of a community. It is not specified by how many members said community should be constituted, and the harmony ruling their cohabitation can be broken by various types of factors. In the case of Amina (Achouackh Abakar), a hawker who sells baskets made from wire netting, and of her daughter Maria (Rihane Khalil Ario), the factor is the unwanted pregnancy of the latter, which could potentially destroy their lives. On the one hand, the terror of suffering ostracism from the conservative Muslim community which they are part of, on the other hand the prospect, even more terrifying, of the girl having an abortion against her will. Despite the apparent inability of achieving such a venture, Maria is determined not to keep the baby, and Amina will not be able to remain by her side.
Mariangela Ciccarello’s movie, shown in the “Italiana.doc” section, presents itself as a documentary that follows the daily life of two actresses, Angela and Paola. It is focused on their rehearsals of dialogues about the mythical characters of Ulysses, Circe and Calypso. However, the dimension of reality constantly and gradually overflows into a dreamlike dimension, enveloping the protagonists’ bodies and fading their contours along with their words, especially when they act. In those moments, the Italian language of their dialogues mixes with the Neapolitan dialect of their considerations on the mythical characters.
With “Bergman Island”, the French director Mia Hanen-Løve made a film that turns into a deep (self)reflection on the creative process of the artist, taking up the themes dear to her and questioning her style of screenwriting. To do this, she creates a real alter ego, which has the features of Chris Sanders (Vicky Krieps), director and screenwriter. Together with her husband and filmmaker Tony (Tim Roth), Chris spends a summer writing her next film on the Swedish island of Fårö, famous residence of Ingmar Bergman.
“Per gli umani non c’è nessuna cosa reale se non è raccontata” “To humans, nothing is real if it’s not told”
Alessandro Baricco
The village elders gather around the fire to tell ancient country stories that have influenced popular culture, and which are now shrouded in the mantle of legend. They evoke and give life to mythical characters, men who have challenged princes and kingdoms in the name of justice, freedom and love and who have distinguished themselves for their virtues or for having committed “deeds”.
Laura Samani starts from the base elements with which she gets her hands dirty: water and blood, milk and tears. But above all, she draws on the rituals and popular beliefs of a fishing village in Friuli, an area far from the advent of “progress” and “modernity” (light bulbs seem like a joke), suspended in an almost ahistorical, mythical, and archaic time. Agatha’s stillborn daughter cannot be baptized and she is therefore destined to wander eternally in limbo, unless her mother sets off to reach the distant and cold Val Dolais, where there is a sanctuary of breath where the miracle takes place: the stillborn child is brought back to life for the duration of one breath, enough to make it able to be baptized and named.
