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Screened movies
Films
Here is a quick view of the films you can watch during the festival.
120 battements par minute / BPM (Beat Per Second)
BPM is a fictionalized account of the history of Act Up-Paris, the
triumphant true story of some of the great heroes of our era: the men
and women who fought for the recognition and improved treatment
of HIV and AIDS patients at a time when a diagnosis was a death
sentence. As an original member of Act Up, writer-director Robin
Campillo brings a detailed, thoroughly researched authenticity to his
reconstruction of the activist organization’s politically and emotionally
charged group meetings, its colorful protests, and the intimate rela-
tionships that bound the tight-knit group together. Yet BPM is anything
but a dry history lesson: Campillo intelligently divides the film in two
sections, the first of which establishes Act Up’s historical importance
by focusing on its internal dynamics and political actions, while the
second delivers the emotional punch of its impact on individual fates
through a love story between two of its members, one of whom is
dying of AIDS. In crafting this remarkable elegy, Campillo achieves a
rare blend of celebration and outrage, remaining true to the activists’
determination, humor, and youthful vibrancy. Above all, BPM is a
remarkable testament to the power of regular citizens to effect change
by banding together to demand justice.
triumphant true story of some of the great heroes of our era: the men
and women who fought for the recognition and improved treatment
of HIV and AIDS patients at a time when a diagnosis was a death
sentence. As an original member of Act Up, writer-director Robin
Campillo brings a detailed, thoroughly researched authenticity to his
reconstruction of the activist organization’s politically and emotionally
charged group meetings, its colorful protests, and the intimate rela-
tionships that bound the tight-knit group together. Yet BPM is anything
but a dry history lesson: Campillo intelligently divides the film in two
sections, the first of which establishes Act Up’s historical importance
by focusing on its internal dynamics and political actions, while the
second delivers the emotional punch of its impact on individual fates
through a love story between two of its members, one of whom is
dying of AIDS. In crafting this remarkable elegy, Campillo achieves a
rare blend of celebration and outrage, remaining true to the activists’
determination, humor, and youthful vibrancy. Above all, BPM is a
remarkable testament to the power of regular citizens to effect change
by banding together to demand justice.
12 days
The French legal system calls for any individual who has been hospi-
talized in a psychiatric facility against his or her will to appear before
a specialized judge twelve days after being admitted. After discussing
the case with the patient and his or her counsel, the judge determines
whether the hospitalization should be prolonged. Raymond Depardon,
a master documentarian with extensive experience filming both the
French legal system and in hospitals, was given exceptional access to
several of these closed hearings at a facility near Lyon. The hearings
seen in 12 Days create an extraordinarily intimate set of portraits of
individuals in distress, expressing their frustrations, fears, hopes,
and, often, delusions. Facing them, a variety of judges are by turns
helpless, paternalistic, attentive and even tender. But 12 Days’ greatest
accomplishment is to reach beyond the individuals and address sys-
temic questions regarding mental health and French society at large:
in short, what is it about our contemporary world that drives us mad?
The case of one patient’s workplace harassment at a telecommuni-
cations firm sketches a terrifying picture of our vulnerability under
the reign of late capitalism. As always, Depardon remains a stoic but
empathetic witness to the world’s sorrows.
talized in a psychiatric facility against his or her will to appear before
a specialized judge twelve days after being admitted. After discussing
the case with the patient and his or her counsel, the judge determines
whether the hospitalization should be prolonged. Raymond Depardon,
a master documentarian with extensive experience filming both the
French legal system and in hospitals, was given exceptional access to
several of these closed hearings at a facility near Lyon. The hearings
seen in 12 Days create an extraordinarily intimate set of portraits of
individuals in distress, expressing their frustrations, fears, hopes,
and, often, delusions. Facing them, a variety of judges are by turns
helpless, paternalistic, attentive and even tender. But 12 Days’ greatest
accomplishment is to reach beyond the individuals and address sys-
temic questions regarding mental health and French society at large:
in short, what is it about our contemporary world that drives us mad?
The case of one patient’s workplace harassment at a telecommuni-
cations firm sketches a terrifying picture of our vulnerability under
the reign of late capitalism. As always, Depardon remains a stoic but
empathetic witness to the world’s sorrows.
Jaguar
Jaguar follows the picaresque adventures of Damouré Zika, Lam
Ibrahim Dia, and Illo Gaoudel, three young men from Niger who set off
to find their fortune in the Gold Coast (present-day Ghana) in the early
fifties. Two find jobs in Accra, while the third opens a business in the
sprawling market in Kumasi; all three become “jaguars,” gentlemen
bachelors walking the city streets on the lookout for romance. Shot
in 1954, completed in 1967, and technically Jean Rouch’s first feature
film, Jaguar abounds with a youthful energy shared by the film-
maker and his friends in front of the camera. With this exhilarating
experiment, Rouch developed his method of “ethno-fiction,” in which
he collaborated with his subjects to improvise fictional scenes in a
documentary setting and later invited the “actors” to add voiceover
commentary. All three actors have the gift of gab and a high-spirited,
self-mocking sense of humor, which make Jaguar both an exuber-
ant comedy and a whirlwind tour of the life of West African economic
migrants in the fifties. This mosaic of short hand-held shots is also a
bold departure from the standards of ethnographic filmmaking, both
scruffy and stylish, and relentlessly optimistic.
Ibrahim Dia, and Illo Gaoudel, three young men from Niger who set off
to find their fortune in the Gold Coast (present-day Ghana) in the early
fifties. Two find jobs in Accra, while the third opens a business in the
sprawling market in Kumasi; all three become “jaguars,” gentlemen
bachelors walking the city streets on the lookout for romance. Shot
in 1954, completed in 1967, and technically Jean Rouch’s first feature
film, Jaguar abounds with a youthful energy shared by the film-
maker and his friends in front of the camera. With this exhilarating
experiment, Rouch developed his method of “ethno-fiction,” in which
he collaborated with his subjects to improvise fictional scenes in a
documentary setting and later invited the “actors” to add voiceover
commentary. All three actors have the gift of gab and a high-spirited,
self-mocking sense of humor, which make Jaguar both an exuber-
ant comedy and a whirlwind tour of the life of West African economic
migrants in the fifties. This mosaic of short hand-held shots is also a
bold departure from the standards of ethnographic filmmaking, both
scruffy and stylish, and relentlessly optimistic.
Metamorphosis
Arthouse favorite Christophe Honoré takes a surprising and invigo-
rating turn away from his bittersweet tales of modern-day love with
this contemporary adaption of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Honoré’s take
on the Roman poet’s essential narrative poem is anything but a stuffy
tribute beholden to a classic work of literature: on the contrary, he
uses Ovid to portray the multicultural France of today, setting his story
not only in lush natural landscapes but among the housing blocks
of the French suburbs, and casting a high school student of North
African descent in the central role of Europa, the young woman who
encounters a series of gods and mythological characters. Naturally,
Ovid’s work is not adaptable in its entirety—it features over 250
myths—but Honoré is true to its spirit, selecting representative tales
including those of Orpheus, Narcissus, and Tiresias, played here as a
transgender doctor. He also makes a virtue out of working with a low
budget, implicitly underlining the wonder in everyday life by avoiding
special effects and finding simple means to portray transformations
and deities. The outcome is a light, lyrical film, whose unforced sen-
suality and formal rigor is reminiscent of nothing less than Pasolini’s
great literary adaptations.
rating turn away from his bittersweet tales of modern-day love with
this contemporary adaption of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Honoré’s take
on the Roman poet’s essential narrative poem is anything but a stuffy
tribute beholden to a classic work of literature: on the contrary, he
uses Ovid to portray the multicultural France of today, setting his story
not only in lush natural landscapes but among the housing blocks
of the French suburbs, and casting a high school student of North
African descent in the central role of Europa, the young woman who
encounters a series of gods and mythological characters. Naturally,
Ovid’s work is not adaptable in its entirety—it features over 250
myths—but Honoré is true to its spirit, selecting representative tales
including those of Orpheus, Narcissus, and Tiresias, played here as a
transgender doctor. He also makes a virtue out of working with a low
budget, implicitly underlining the wonder in everyday life by avoiding
special effects and finding simple means to portray transformations
and deities. The outcome is a light, lyrical film, whose unforced sen-
suality and formal rigor is reminiscent of nothing less than Pasolini’s
great literary adaptations.
Makala
Makala is an extraordinarily revealing and surprisingly gorgeous look
at everyday life for a charcoal salesman in the Democratic Republic
of Congo. French documentary filmmaker Emmanuel Gras follows
28-year-old Kabwita Kasongo through the entire process of making
and selling charcoal: finding and cutting down a tree in the vast plains
near his village in the southern region of Katanga, burying and burning
the wood to create charcoal, loading multiple bulging bags of charcoal
onto a rickety bicycle and walking it several days to the city of Kolwezi,
where he hopes to sell his merchandise on its markets and streets.
What sets Makala (the Swahili word for “charcoal”) apart from other
documentaries about workers in developing countries is its sheer
filmic quality: Kabwita’s simple but challenging objective to get the
coal to the big city and sell enough to buy supplies to build a house for
himself and his family has the dramatic force of the great humanist
films from Bicycle Thieves on down, while Gras’s virtuosic widescreen
camerawork constantly anchors his individual struggle in the larger
context of the Congo’s breathtakingly beautiful landscape and its
rapidly shifting economy.
at everyday life for a charcoal salesman in the Democratic Republic
of Congo. French documentary filmmaker Emmanuel Gras follows
28-year-old Kabwita Kasongo through the entire process of making
and selling charcoal: finding and cutting down a tree in the vast plains
near his village in the southern region of Katanga, burying and burning
the wood to create charcoal, loading multiple bulging bags of charcoal
onto a rickety bicycle and walking it several days to the city of Kolwezi,
where he hopes to sell his merchandise on its markets and streets.
What sets Makala (the Swahili word for “charcoal”) apart from other
documentaries about workers in developing countries is its sheer
filmic quality: Kabwita’s simple but challenging objective to get the
coal to the big city and sell enough to buy supplies to build a house for
himself and his family has the dramatic force of the great humanist
films from Bicycle Thieves on down, while Gras’s virtuosic widescreen
camerawork constantly anchors his individual struggle in the larger
context of the Congo’s breathtakingly beautiful landscape and its
rapidly shifting economy.
Faces places
With Faces, Places, 89-year-old powerhouse Agnès Varda teams with
the world-famous young street artist JR to make a film as wide-rang-
ing as it is personal, as fanciful as it is pointed. Setting off on French
country roads to find subjects for JR’s trademark mural-size portrait
photographs, the two artists focus on people generally outside of the
spotlight: retired miners, factors workers, the wives of dockers, and
farmers. Each encounter fills in another piece of an idiosyncratic
portrait of modern-day France, as well as the evolving relationship
between open-hearted Agnès Varda and mysterious JR. The give-and-
take between Varda and JR plays out in a fascinating through-line
devoted to Jean-Luc Godard, Varda’s old friend and sole surviving
colleague of the French New Wave. But make no mistake: while the
film is credited to both artists, Varda is definitely calling the shots. As
ever, her montage is allusive, playful, rapid-fire, occasionally jarring—
in short, totally in keeping with her singular way of thinking. Her
generosity in sharing her life and thought with us deep into old age is a
cause to rejoice. Faces, Places was nominated for an Academy Award
for the Best Documentary of 2017.
the world-famous young street artist JR to make a film as wide-rang-
ing as it is personal, as fanciful as it is pointed. Setting off on French
country roads to find subjects for JR’s trademark mural-size portrait
photographs, the two artists focus on people generally outside of the
spotlight: retired miners, factors workers, the wives of dockers, and
farmers. Each encounter fills in another piece of an idiosyncratic
portrait of modern-day France, as well as the evolving relationship
between open-hearted Agnès Varda and mysterious JR. The give-and-
take between Varda and JR plays out in a fascinating through-line
devoted to Jean-Luc Godard, Varda’s old friend and sole surviving
colleague of the French New Wave. But make no mistake: while the
film is credited to both artists, Varda is definitely calling the shots. As
ever, her montage is allusive, playful, rapid-fire, occasionally jarring—
in short, totally in keeping with her singular way of thinking. Her
generosity in sharing her life and thought with us deep into old age is a
cause to rejoice. Faces, Places was nominated for an Academy Award
for the Best Documentary of 2017.
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