If you think that way about the Blues, well, first get over yourself, and then watch the new documentary Two Trains Runnin’ (but don’t confuse it with the similarly named August Wilson play). Using the requisite and freshly fascinating historical footage, enhancing the story with quite a bit of sly animation, and connecting it all with interviews and musical performances by Gary Clark Jr., Lucinda Williams, Buddy Guy, Valerie June, and the North Mississippi Allstars, among others, this new film dashes any conundrums you may have of the Blues and creates what is easily one of the freshest takes on the African-American struggle during the Civil Rights Movement in over a decade.
Who thinks of this? Who connects the quest of young white dudes searching for mysterious Blues musicians to the brutal Freedom Rider murders of Cheney, Schwerner, and Goodman? Only a sensitive documentarian like Sam Pollard, best known as a longtime editor for Spike Lee but also a proven producer of films like Four Little Girls and director of the acclaimed documentary Slavery of Another Name, could bring brightness to those tumultuous times and not bog down this thorough history lesson with too pure annals, but sprinkle it with enough energy to make it accessible.
Allow me to break it down for you.
History is as much about dates as it is about the happenings. And in June of 1964, hundreds of college students traveled to Mississippi to join the civil rights movement starting the eventually named Freedom Summer. Concurrently, two groups of young white men (including guitarist John Fahey and Dick Waterman, the great champion of the Blues) also traveled to Mississippi on separate missions, unbeknownst to one another, each in search of a legendary blues musician lost to the ravages of time.
Folk music grew in prominence in the few years prior to 1964, and with that the search for the pioneers of American musical culture flourished. But many of these artists recorded albums here and there, and because of a variety of factors, be they economics, racism, or straight up change of lifestyle, they abandoned regular pursuit of being full-time musicians. Not much has changed in that regard. However, the musicians Skip James and Sun House had not been heard of publicly for decades, so with the rediscovery of their music, these young men had to find out whether they were still alive, how they created such powerful music, and whether still could perform such feats. And so these men drove separately from California and New York City to do so.
Yet only white guys unacquainted with America’s South can drive through Mississippi unaware of the danger that presented. With the Ku Klux Klan and police forces out to stop the Freedom Summer initiatives of voter registration and rural education of Blacks from being successful, the journey took on unprecedented danger. But that’s where the drama of this doc makes the film work so well. It’s not that you feel necessarily frightened for these young White men, but you do want them to succeed at these impossible tasks.
Regardless of their success or failure, there is little denying the transformation of what occurred in Mississippi, and in America, during that summer. What Pollard and his collaborators, which include the rapper/actor Common as narrator and executive producer, have however accomplished is proving that, as the director personally admits, a more complete understanding of “who we are as Americans, what brought us together and what divides us.” The story of Sun House and Skip James, of James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner, of the countless men and women who shared and sacrificed their lives for their art and for the betterment of man, is the soul of America, even when this country fails to live up to the ideals it was built upon.
Two Trains Runnin’ begins its theatrical run this Friday, December 2nd at The Metrograph in New York City.
Two Trains Runnin’ trailer from Avalon Films on Vimeo.
Two Trains Runnin’
82 minutes | USA
Director: Sam Pollard
Writer and Producer: Benjamin Hedin
Executive Producers: Common and Derek Dudley
Featuring: Gary Clark Jr., Buddy Guy, Lucinda Williams, David Dennis, Robert Moses, Peter Guralnick, and Amanda Petrusich
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If you lived right along the sea in Brazil’s state of Pernambuco, in the pretty upper-crust beach area of Boa Viagem, your life, one would imagine, would be pretty chill. That’s how one would come into thinking about Clara, a 65-year old widow and retired music critic who was born into a pretty traditional, well-to-do family. But instantly, what’s at the surface isn’t exactly how life plays out for Clara, and from the end of Aquarius’ opening 1980 flashback scene, the viewer knows that the film they walked in on is going to be a complicated, and eye-opening journey.
But yes, Clara’s days revolve around now leisurely activities: listening to vinyl, drinking wine, having food prepared by her dutiful maid Ledjune, trying to swim in the rough ocean tide, and wishing her children and nephews would visit more. Yet, with her being the holdout tenant in the titular apartment building on Boa Viagem Avenue, the strong-willed (see: stubborn) Clara is intent on preserving her family condo, despite the efforts of the wealthy real estate developers plans to demolish the Aquarius for their own new building.
While this battle of wills, a personal cold war of sorts, is the underlying plot of Aquarius, Clara’s present day dealings with her family, still dealing with unsettling aspects of their past, including her cancer that nearly destroyed the family 35 years since, is what is really the heart of the film. No, it’s more than that – it’s Sônia Braga.
While non-Spanish/Portuguese speaking American audiences have only gotten smatterings of this magnetic actor in the past decade plus, the great Brazilian star best known here for 1985’s Kiss of the Spider Woman, her present work on the Netflix series Luke Cage (as Claire Temple’s diner owner mother), and to 80’s kids like me as Theo’s teacher Ms. Westlake on The Cosby Show, is a vastly underused actress. She is no less than transfixing on screen, making director Kleber Mendonça Filho’s dynamic storytelling style, especially his choice of moving the camera about in key moments to vital, often overlooked spaces to expand the story, that more unforgettable.
Although in less of it that Braga, the there are two other standout actors among a bevy of strong performances. Maeve Jenkings plays Clara’s only daughter Ana Paula, a headstrong, recently divorced woman intent on facing the realities of life that she feels her mother rebels against. Jenkings is a rising star in the film community having recently co-starred in Gabriel Mascaro’s transformative Brazilian modern-cowboy film Neon Bull, which we reviewed at this year’s New Directors/New Films festival, as well as Filho’s previous feature, Neighboring Sounds. Her contrast against Clara’s demeanor, coupled with an also embracing mother-daughter relationship, is a true highlight – these two actresses work brilliantly with each other.
The other is young actor Humberto Carrão, who plays overeager real estate developer Diego, the passive-aggressive leader of Clara’s eviction. With what Clara accurately describes as a “shit-eating grin” (which sounds even funnier and stronger with Braga’s pronounced Brazilian accent) Diego starts as an charming and amusing lad and by film’s end, well, you should see for yourself (spoiler: it ain’t’ cute).
Aquarius is a must-see at the New York Film Festival, and wherever it lands afterwards.
AQUARIUS
Directed by Kleber Mendonça Filho
Brazil/France, 2016, 142 min.
Portuguese with English subtitles
US Premiere
Series: MAIN SLATE
Q&A’s with Kleber Mendonça Filho & Sônia Braga
Screenings and Venues:
Sunday, October 9th, 8:30pm at Alice Tully Hall
Tuesday, October 11th, 6:30pm at Francesca Beale Theater
The 54th New York Film Festival runs from September 30 – October 16 in New York City.
]]>Criminal. Black. Guilty.
These three words are synonymous in a way that is damning to not only Black people in the United States, but internationally. But America, land of the sometimes free, is where these associations were perfected. And though all Americans are supposed to be subject to all laws, Blacks remain repeatedly jailed, shot, and left dispensable and disregarded by the authoritative powers of the state – with full intention. And, by straight up, non-punishable, white supremacist violence.
So, the 13th Amendment of the United States of America, designed to abolish slavery and involuntary servitude in 1865, is basically scrap. The text goes as follows:
“Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude excepts as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.”
It should have been written to deny any loopholes.
Most of superstar filmmaker Ava DuVernay’s fans don’t recall that she began her filmmaking career in the documentary world (I still revere 2010’s My Mic Sounds Nice: The Truth About Women in Hip-Hop). What she does with her examination into how the 13th Amendment soon after its adoption led to mass criminalization and the genesis of America’s prison industrial complex–done on the backs of Blacks, Latinos, and the poor, to make the United States home to the largest prison population in the world–is both dizzying and amazing. The former because of the statistics that are laid out, presented in creative, mostly stark black & white graphics on how prison industrialization grew in leaps and bound over the past six decades, and amazing, really, if you haven’t been paying attention to the world outside your door.

But really, most of us, even in the Black community, just haven’t. At the press conference following the early screening of 13th for this year’s New York Film Festival, DuVernay touched on how growing up, and still now, she would constantly hear about how many neighbors, and their loved ones, would be incarcerated, forcing her to examine the depths behind why this is so normalized. That’s really the point at hand how again, Black = Criminal, and the media and political Kool-Aid has been ingested to make White and Black people, and all Americans, and the entire world, feel comfortable in this regard.
Endorsed but not always publicly acknowledged on a federal level, this criminalization began during Reconstruction with the Black codes, restricting freedom and encouraging a low-wage labor economy and incarceration – aka, “slavery by another name,” eventually leading into Jim Crow. The post-Civil Rights era modern era followed, flooding the Black community with drugs, incarceration, and more. And this is all exacerbated by two factors: lynching (of which modern day police and police-related killings of unarmed Black civilians are the same) and media manipulation, beginning with late 19th/early 20th century newspapers decrying of the dreaded Black menace that doesn’t really exist and by D.W. Griffith’s 1915 Ku Klux Clan glorification film “The Birth of a Nation,” and sensationalized in the modern era by basically every mass media market, whether conservative or liberal-seeming.
The “talking- head” experts that DuVernay uses to dispense this information and more come from a wide array of experiences: historians (Jelani Cobb and Michelle Alexander, to name a few), activists (Angela Davis in particular shines in this, as her own unjust 1972 trial is beautifully examined), politicians, and formerly incarcerated women and men. It can be argued that there are too many interviews profiled, but the knowledge that they share, and the cinematic-looking, and intentionally labor-themed settings they are placed in, make these interviews extremely watchable.
13th is not the first documentary to present this information. Contemporaneously, the third in Tariq Nasheed’s African diaspora history series, Hidden Colors 3: The Rules Of Racism, “tackles the taboo subject of systematic racism…[exploring] how institutional racism effects all areas of human activity, and the rules, laws, and public policies that are utilized to maintain this system.” Both films stand on their own as masterful works that will hopefully jumpstart the masses into discovering why things are they way they are and figuring out how to change this country for the better. We’ll see.
Ava DuVernay’s 13th can be seen on Netflix beginning Friday, October 7th.
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So let’s get this out if the way…Moonlight is a wonderful film for numerous wonderful reasons.
Let me tell you why it’s not wonderful though. Moonlight is NOT wonderful because so many of the best known critics from top dailies and websites say its so, and it’s not wonderful because of all the buzz about it being an Academy Award contender. All this can be crucial toward the success of a film in our media over-saturated society, but it should never be what totally compels you to see a film.
Society shouldn’t pressure you for PC reasons either. Moonlight is about the troubled life of Chiron, a gay Black man, whose story begins at 9 years old, transitions to his mid-teens, and rounds out in his mid-twenties. Presenting Chiron’s difficult life is the been-brilliant director Barry Jenkins, from whom fans (and fanatics) have been clamoring for a second feature film since his 2008 indie (and once again, critical) hit, especially among Black cineastes, Medicine for Melancholy. Now, society is pressuring 9-year old Chiron, who everyone calls “Little” because of his short and wiry stature, to be more of a man instead of so wimpy (aka, gay). Little is continuously disregarded, teased, go down the line. What makes them perceive him as gay is never made obvious, which is good for storytelling reasons, but he seems to know he is different from his peers as well.
That all said, he is hated by so many of them but finds camaraderie, and his greatest influence, in father figure Juan, and sensitive drug dealer (a description begging for Oscar bait, only thing missing is “with a heart of gold”) played by Mahershala Ali (House of Cards, The 4440). Even he has picked up on young Chiron’s homosexuality, and whether he may have those questions about himself may be in question as well, but regardless he is motivated to take the po’ disregarded child under his care, along with stalwart girlfriend Teresa, played by Janelle Monae, who I unfortunately never saw as a character in the film, just as Janelle Monae except not dancing or singing to our delight. Nonetheless, Juan provides a respite (and food..a lot of food) away from Little’s drug addicted mother, played scarily and convincingly by the always affable Naomie Harris.
Harris’ character Paula is indeed so haunting, she may not want you to see this film. She’s basically one-step below Mo’nique in Precious. Here, Moonlight toes the line on falling into another “Black pain drama,” regardless of whether the story stems from real life or not. Unfortunately, the media tends to ‘get off’ on seeing and promoting Black trauma, the pains of Black society living in the dregs and being hateful to one another. While Black folks don’t hold the aren’t the sole bearers on suffering, we seem to hold a Master’s degree on it, especially if you only pay attention to what’s mostly promoted through a white media lens, which most of American and world society tends to get its news.
That all said, though this aberrant behavior that carries through past Paula, and the boys who prey on Chiron through teenagedom, makes an uncomfortable watch, as I put myself through the gaze of a non-woke critic, the mostly united critical trumping of this film should not stop you from seeing this film.
What should make you see it, even more than James Laxton’s breath-taking Miami cinematography (filmed not in stereotypical South Beach, but real Miami streets) and even more than the all too rare opportunity to see the underrated Andre Holland of television’s The Knick, act his *bleep* off by saying more with his eyes and body language than he does with dialogue (and he has a decent amount of lines) are these key things:

What makes Moonlight even more relevant than providing a space for Black men, gay and straight, to be vulnerable on screen, is that Jenkins and screenwriter Tarell McCraney, whose story and play this based on, tell a deep story on how, again, the greater society weighs on who you think you should be. Here it’s not just the media, but also lack of economic opportunities that lead to the prison industrial complex defining Black American life. This is real stuff happening in salient ways that so many of us are so used to, things that, of course, reinforce the idea that the Black man is naturally dangerous.
Concurrently, Ava DuVernay’s new documentary 13th has opened the New York Film Festival touching on these very themes. To watch these films practically together at NYFF will inform you to levels some may not be ready for. But get ready, cause these great films are here, and you need to experience them.
Check out the trailer for Moonlight here.
MOONLIGHT
Directed by Barry Jenkins
USA, 2016, 110 min.
Series: MAIN SLATE
Screenings and Venues:
Of salient increased attention is the trauma and after affects of the United States prison system, which disproportionately incarcerates Black men and women, most often with longer sentences than their White crime counterparts. The ongoing legacy of the Black community and the prison system would take a long time to cover, but in the new film Chapter & Verse by filmmaker Jamal Joseph, known primarily as a former member of the Black Panther Party in New York City and one of the infamous Panther 21 (alongside Afeni Shakur and Dhoruba Bin Wahad, among notable others) – accused of conspiracy to blow up the New York Botanical Gardens and other places in NYC, and acquitted over two years later but becoming political prisoners and targets for life – a formerly incarcerated man faces a strange new life upon returning home.

Jailed for over eight years, we meet Lance (Daniel Beatty) as he searches for, but is constantly turned down, employment as a computer technician. Constrained by life in a halfway house, it isn’t until he begins to work in a food bank that his eyes open to a Harlem much different from the one he left – gang violence (of a different kind), gentrification, and good ol’ American racism. However, as he slowly re-indoctrinates himself to life Uptown, including connecting with old friend and former hustler Jomo (Omari Hardwick, Middle of Nowhere) and meeting Miss Maddy (Loretta Divine, NBC’s The Carmichael Show and so much more), a cheeky older woman to whom he delivers daily dinners and soon strikes up a friendship, does Lance begin to find hope for the future.
Though Miss Maddy’s eventual sweet nature is a catalyst, it is mostly through her teenage grandson Ty (Khadim Diop) that Lance sees how he can impact his immediate world. With no real family of his own, Lance slowly becomes welcome into Miss Maddy’s own, and struggles to be a ‘big brother’ to Ty’s wayward teenage sensibility. While most of the relationships established in the film are strong, it is the bond between former wild man Lance and young Ty that truly works best.
Divine is usually irreverent in most of her roles, and brings a solid spirit to Chapter & Verse, but this film does not stray from Lance’s deep dark eyes which obviously hold deep resentment, but are capable of so much more. The climax of the film is truly harrowing and reflects the dire circumstances that people who feel incarcerated in their own communities must contend with. The film consistently has this pathos running under the drama that unfolds.
Hardwick is as charming as ever as the somewhat comic relief of the film, as is the always acerbic Selenis Leyva (Orange is the New Black’s Gloria) as food bank owner Yolanda who puts Lance in both responsibility-building and compromising positions.
As part of a spectacular lineup of engrossing films, Chapter & Verse remains a main go-to in the impressive list. See it this Sunday at 5:00pm at the Film Society of Lincoln Center as part of the Human Rights Watch Film Festival. A Q&A with director Jamal Joseph follows the screening.
CHAPTER & VERSE
(2015—97m—drama)
Sunday, June 12, 5:00 pm
Film Society of Lincoln Center
+ Q&A with filmmaker
Jamal Joseph
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When you think, act, and feel different from so many people around you, it’s easy to feel like the sore thumb, like the outcast, from your peer group, from society on a whole. But just imagine that you are autistic, and you’re living in a world that makes no sense to you, but everything keeps swirling about with zero translation or control.
This is what Owen Suskind felt like early in life, and the life of this young autistic mind is told in Life, Animated, the newest documentary from Oscar-winning director Roger Ross Williams.
Very early in his life, and much to the dismay of his family and many doctors, Owen was unable to speak unable to convey any true emotions or feelings. He was quickly diagnosed as autistic, but as the disease was less understandable at the time, it was near impossible to find a solution to his muteness. Owen’s only outlet was Disney animated movies, which he would spend hours watching and dancing along to. It was not until one day when he tried to make his big brother Walt feel better, reciting a whole line from a Disney flick, that his parents realized that Owen knew all the dialogue from these often moralistic tales, and could remarkably use those lines to convey how he felt.
Now as an adult, we follow Owen as he graduates from his special school and is able to have his own apartment and interact with the world all on his own. And his journey in doing so, complete with wonderfully animated flashbacks that convey how he felt (or must have felt) while growing up, is as heartbreakingly touching as it is impressive. Owen himself is quite the charmer, even while his obsession with Disney grows annoying (but understandable) at times, as his autistic mind also develops into quite a poetic one.
During one the film’s most difficult moments, Owen asks, “Why is life full of unfair pain and tragedy?” The answer may lay in the film’s title, but its poignancy is still biting and everlasting. Director Williams is putting forth the best work of his career, once again bringing out an outcast with a strong personality, as he did with Prudence from his Oscar-winning short documentary Music by Prudence (Williams was indeed the first African-American to win the Academy Award in that category – and had a memorable Oscar moment to boot!) to the forefront and making the world of the audience a better place for it.
BaL Festival Rating: 5/5
Director: Roger Ross Wiliams
With Owen Suskind, Ron Suskind, Cornelia Suskind, Walter Suskind
Genre: Documentary
Country: United States
Runtime: 92 min.
Screenings and Venues:
Friday April 22, 6:00pm at Regal Cinemas Battery Park
Saturday April 23, 3:45pm at Regal Cinemas Battery Park
The 2016 Tribeca Film Festival runs from April 13 – 24 in New York City
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As I’m told, motherhood can be as beautiful as it is challenging. I’m confident that Essuman (Rukiyat Masud) has been told this many a time, but also certain that she’s never quite listened to those words until now.
Living happily in her little community in Accra, pregnant for the man she unconditionally, but stupidly loves, Essuman’s joyous existence is broken when she gives birth early and discovers that her child has a cleft lip (aka cleft palate), an opening in the lip and the roof of his mouth. Saliently saddened by baby Nuku’s deformity, she soon after discovers that he also isn’t growing correctly, and has both cerebral palsy and Down syndrome. Even her dreamboat boyfriend Edjah, whom she callously stole from her neighbor, disowns her and the baby.
Only her barren best friend Asantewaa (Akofa Edjeani) has got Essuman’s back against the hordes of old wives’ tales and superstition that exclaim the young mother has a ‘dirty womb’ and that Nuku’s disabilities are the work of the devil. Though repeatedly going through several crises of confidence and selfishness, Essuman still manages to search for cures – from doctors, to bushmen, to religious leaders. But she ultimately discovers that her true path may be back home in the rural mountain region, where the souls of children are said to wait for a promising future.
There’s no mistaking that Children of the Mountain is a lot to take in. Essuman’s actions, and ignorance, are often alarming, but also make for some good armrest-clenching drama. Initially, baby Nuku’s disabilities made the tensions in Lee Daniels’ 2009 movie Precious look like a fairytale, but he soon warms your heart, as does his mother’s struggles. Director Priscilla Anany, a Ghanian native who migrated to the United States in her youth and studied filmmaking stateside, expertly displays the ups and downs of motherhood and womanhood. Anany surrounds her protagonist with all the extra-negative and extremely positive examples of both, and of life.
With a wonderfully set cast and fluid drama and direction, Children of the Mountain is one of the most refreshing African-focused tales to come out of the 2016 Tribeca Film Festival. That an actual African perspective tells it makes the film all the more worthwhile.
BaL Festival Rating: 4/5
Screenings and Venues:
Thursday April 21, 7:00pm at Bow Tie Cinemas Chelsea
Friday April 22, 4:00pm at Bow Tie Cinemas Chelsea
Director/Writer: Priscilla Anany
Cast: Rukiyat Masud, Grace Omaboe, Akofa Edjeani, Adjetey Annang, Agbeko Mortty (Bex), Dzifa Glikpo, Mynna Otoo
Genre: Narrative
Lanuage: Twi, with subtitles
Country: Ghana/USA
Runtime: 100 min.
Nkosi Coiffure (part of the “Learning Curve” short films block)
directed by Frederike Migom
in Flemish, French, and Lingala subititles
In this short film, a white woman storms in from off the street after fighting with her boyfriend, interrupting a normal day in an African hair salon in Brussels. While the women try to calm Eva, the ‘mama’ of the salon confronts the boyfriend, but everything changes within when the women find out what the fight was all about.
Initially, Nkosi Coiffure felt like your average “Black women will impart sage wisdom to distressed white woman” tale (always more dubious when its actual Africans imparting said knowledge), and yes, there is some of that still here, but by the film’s end it became more about female empowerment and its varied, and all too relevant, outlooks.
Final Screening:
Saturday April 23- 6:45pm at Bow Tie Cinemas Chelsea
I was a bit worried at the beginning of this one.
It began with a voiceover, which is not a death knell for any film, but still an all too common trope on which too many filmmakers rely. But that was just in the beginning, and everything got stronger and deeper from that point.
Instantly we meet Brandon, a short for his age but very cute, and very goofy, 15-year old living in the Bay Area of Oakland and San Francisco. His disposition isn’t helped by his being straight-up poor, so much so that his sneaker game is mad weak – his shoes have what we used to say as kids (in the 1980’s!) that he had air-conditioning. Meanwhile, his friends have so much more going for them in their own special ways: Marco (Christopher Meyer) is tall, handsome, and athletic despite smoking weed and drinking all the time, and pulls all the best women; Albert (Christopher Jordan Wallace, son of slain rapper Notorious B.I.G.) is in many ways Marco’s physical opposite, but is a burgeoning rapper and quick-witted. Brandon is none of these things, remarking early on that, “Sometimes it feels like everybody’s cooler than me.” What really enhances his peers’ game are their top-shelf sneakers, which Brandon cannot afford.
Doing odd jobs to save up for the re-issue of the first Air Jordans, a chance opportunity allows Brandon to purchase them at a discount. His confidence is now high, and cuties are even checking him out – but so are troublemakers, and he instantly becomes a target for the menacing Flaco. After these fresh kicks become Flaco’s own, Brandon decides it’s time for him to become a ‘man’ and fight for what’s his, with the help of Albert and Marco. But his hero’s journey becomes totally atypical, with the big-bad guy having a surprisingly complex lifestyle, and Brandon’s taking quite scary and violent turns in his obsession over sneakers, and to prove his manhood to all involved. Brandon’s sneaker salesman tells him that, “These cost more than your life,” and his foreshadowing is biting and all too real.
Mahershala Ali (House of Cards, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay), always-underrated, but achieving due fame, is potent as Brandon’s jailbird uncle, whom Brandon turns to for ‘hood advice. His presence makes this already compelling film that much more remarkable. And Kofi Siriboe as Flaco is a Stringer Bell-like baddie (with less smarts though), complicated in proving his manhood as well, in a multitude of ways. The ladies in the audience will undoubtedly eat him up. See him next in Ava DuVernay’s TV project Queen Sugar. Wallace is very charming as Albert, so its refreshing to see that Biggie Smalls’ son wasn’t just cast for name recognition.
But this is unquestionably Jahking Guillory’s film. He is one million percent believable playing the innocent-turned-infatuated Brandon, and is a star in the making. Though for Black actors, that honestly doesn’t play out like it should. But that’s another story.
Kicks director and AFI film school grad Justin Tipping, passionate in portraying the universal struggles of teenage-dom, remarked in recent Indiewire interview that, “It’s pretty backwards in retrospect and my interest is in how we can create a dialogue to solve this notion that masculinity is synonymous with violence — Why do we perpetuate it? How can it be un-taught?” The pairing of these themes with the fetishization of sneaker and popular culture makes the stakes high for all the film’s characters.
In the same interview, Tipping mentioned his affinity for Italian neorealism directors like Vittorio De Sica (Kicks is very much like De Sica’s The Bicycle Thief) and Federico Fellini, which is instantly apparent in the film, with dream sequences and floating astronauts present throughout, and a mix of actors and non-actors cast. Unlike these uses in other films, there’s no pretension felt (okay, maybe at first there is) and these ethereal variations, especially by the film’s end, enhance the entire feel of the film entirely. There are some questionable choices made, especially in reflection to a non-Black director portraying characters resplendent in ghetto behaviors, but as a person who also grew up in the multicultural Bay Area and experienced the same teenage travails as Brandon, Tipping’s perspective is genuine.
There’s a lot to take in with Kicks, and it’s not easy to watch, but it will have your mind rolling with so many thoughts that its place as piece of artistic storytelling is unquestionable.
Bold As Love Festival Rating: 4/5
Director: Justin Tipping
Writers: Justin Tipping and Joshua Beirne-Golden
Cast: Jahking Guillory, Mahershala Ali, Kofi Siriboe, Christopher Jordan Wallace, Christopher Meyer
Genre: Narrative
Country: USA
Runtime: 87 min.
The 2016 Tribeca Film Festival runs from April 13 – 24 in New York City
]]>It’s no secret that music can transcend the boundaries of language and culture to provide both entertainment and societal awakenings to its listeners. Farah already knows this, despite being only 18 years old, and she uses her siren-like talent as a singer to captivate audiences in contemporary Tunis, as well as to embolden herself. But her lyrics, often written by her would-be boyfriend Bohrène, are also politically salacious, and the still naive young woman remains unaware of how dangerous her acts of artistry can be, despite warnings from her mother Hayet (Ghalia Benali), and others. Amidst the rumblings of Tunisia’s Arab Spring movement, naturally, a boiling point is reached that there may be no turning back from.
As strong as a debut feature film as ever seen, director Leyla Bouzid’s sensitivity to her protagonist–protecting her as much as Farah’s mother attempts to, until it is no longer possible–is a strong and skillfully done, if not saliently apparent. That’s not to say because she is a female and her lead character is that her understanding as a director/writer is as obvious. No, As I Open My Eyes is multi-layered as a family, cultural, musically-filled, coming-of-age, political drama that instantly hits all the dramatic notes that one expects, and others you probably didn’t see coming.
Farah is played by newcomer Baya Medhaffar, whose striking young beauty and wide-eyed enthusiasm is infectious. She’s a joy to experience on screen as our point-of-view character on the road to losing youthful innocence. Alongside Medhaffar, the arguably equal performance comes from Benali. With a history shrouded in secrets, she and husband Mamoud, obviously rebels in years past (perhaps in connection to increased human rights violations in Tunisia around the turn of the century), tread carefully, though are supportive of her music despite rumblings from all around them to have Farah lead a more traditional life. Hayet, despite living what seems like a carefree life to outsiders, is pained as she sees her daughter going down the same idealistic roads that she paid the price for. You see this in Benali’s eyes, in her furtive steps, imbuing you in as much pain as she feels inside.
While a big part of the story, actress Ghalia Benali is just one of the factors that makes As I Open My Eyes worth seeing as soon as you can.
Bold as Love festival rating: 5/5
Director: Leyla Bouzid
With Baya Medhaffer, Ghalia Benali, Montassar Ayari, Aymen Omrani, Lassaad Jamoussi, Deena Abdelwahed, Youssef Soltana, Marwen Soltana
Genre: Narrative
Country: France, Belgium, United Arab Emirates,Tunisia
Runtime: 103 min.
Screenings and Venues:
*ONLY Rush tickets still available
The 2016 Tribeca Film Festival runs from April 13 – 24 in New York City
]]>Deep down in Colombia, South America there remains a deeply hidden mystery with the country’s jungles: The true history of the region and the people who inhabit it to this day.
The Colombian Amazon, half of the country itself, possesses the untold stories of millions of natives – those slaughtered in the early 20th century to produce rubber from rubber trees for European interests, and their descendants, proud and righteous people still wary of the West yet open to sharing their culture to those respectful of it.
With Embrace of the Serpent (El Abrazo de la serpiente), the newest film from Colombian native Ciro Guerra (The Wind Journeys – 2009), the stories of the natives living in the Amazon as told through the experiences of Karamakate, an Amazonian warrior-shaman and the assumed last survivor his people, are reflected. Taking place over 40 years in time – from the early 20th century to near the mid-century – we first meet the young Karamakate (Nilbio Torres) as he reluctantly agrees to take explorer Theordor Koch-Grünberg in search of the sacred and highly elusive Yakruna plant, told to have healing qualities that the German scientist needs to survive. Distrustful of Europeans who have decimated his land and people, he only agrees to the journey upon the promise to find his missing people, the Cohiuano, and on the word of local man Manduca (Yauenkü Miguee), a guide and former rubber plantation slave who escorts Koch-Grünberg on his adventures.
A then modern history unfolds on their long journey, as the trio confront fellow Amazonians – some untouched and others driven widely insane, despotic missionaries and their Amazonian acolytes, and more, all whom challenge their way of thinking and their own personal sanity. Alongside this journey the audience is transported to the future, where an older and wiser Karamakate (Antonio Bolívar Salvador) agrees to once more escort a European explorer, the Koch-Grünberg inspired botanist Richard Evans Schultes, also in search of the mysterious Yakaruna, though for potentially less altruistic reasons.

Serpent is inspired by Koch-Grünberg’s diary in part, but Guerra’s reasons for making it go beyond mere storytelling. Guerra had a deeply personal interest in the world of the Colombia’s Amazon. Feeling that his fellow Colombians have turned their back on the knowledge, he wanted to know more about it himself, and tell a filmic story told from the viewpoint of the native culture, not from the European or North American perspective that permeates stories told of the region. Says Guerra, “I wanted to tell a story…in which the protagonist wasn’t the white man as usual, but the native. This changes the entire perspective and renews it,” as natives are often shown as primitive savages in past films. He continues, “We wanted to be able to tell this story in a way that was true to their experience, yet was relatable to any other person on the planet.”
Written over the course of four years and shot in seven weeks in the jungles of Vaupés, the black & white filmed Serpent is the first fiction feature to be shot in the Colombian Amazon in more than 30 years. It is also the first Colombian film to feature an indigenous protagonist and to be told from his perspective.
While the relationship between both Karamakates and the European explorers seems to be paramount, it’s the familial bond between Young Karamakate and Manduca that remains most memorable. The proud and emotionally charged Manduca, pushing away any association of being a caboclo (traitor), is a fascinating study, him having embraced certain Western qualities while still being true to his people. That neither are trained actors is astonishing, as they inhabit the screen and play off one another like professional actors. The older Karamakate’s performance, brilliantly still yet moving, is also divine. Yet most brilliant is how time moves forward and backward throughout Serpent, almost seamlessly, and akin to the movements of the snake itself. In this way, the film takes on a life of its own even outside of the filmmaker’s ambitions.

Guerra may agree. He contents that the knowledge of the natives, while mostly lost, “is not something you can aspire to understand in a short time…It is related to life, generations, natural cycles; it really is a gigantic wall of knowledge that you can only admire and maybe try to scratch its surface.” While that knowledge may prove obscure, Serpent excels at cinematically working to rescue it, as well as to rescue a place in time that no longer exists as it was.
Introspective and haunting, especially in the scenes dealing with how religion affected the region, you cannot help but keep your eyes peeled during Embrace of the Serpent. A nominee for the Best Foreign Language Film Academy Award, you can see it now in New York City at the Film Forum and Lincoln Plaza Cinema, and beginning February 19th in Los Angeles at the Landmark Nuart.
EMBRACE OF THE SERPENT
125 mins | Colombia
Directed by Ciro Guerra
Written by Ciro Guerra and Jacques Toulemonde
Produced by Cristina Gallego
Starring Jan Bijvoet, Brionne Davis, Antonio Bolívar Salvador, Nilbio Torres, and Yauenkü Miguee
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