by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer
Once I made the decision to attend this year’s Chicago International Film Festival, I was filled with anticipation as it grew closer. Beyond just the films themselves, one of the things that piqued my curiosity early on would be getting to hear various directors talk about their films during the Q&As. Regardless of which movie I would be watching, or what my thoughts on said film were, I was definitely intrigued by the insight that could be grasped in hearing from the the creative end of each film. That can include anywhere from some background on production to what may have served as the inspiration for the film. Unless you’re a recurring patron of the festival circuit, that’s something you don’t get to often experience when going to the theater. So in this section, I’ll not only be sharing my thoughts on five films whose respective directors showed up in-person, but expanding on what they had to say.
Family Portrait — Low Side of It Was Just Okay
Director Lucy Kerr arrives on the scene with her feature debut, Family Portrait, about a Texas family who struggle extensively to take a simple family photo set amidst the early weeks of the COVID-19 pandemic. When the matriarch suddenly goes missing, however, her daughter, Katy (Deragh Campbell), begins to spiral amidst the growing hecticness. Kerr approaches the film with a strong sense of confidence insofar as how she chooses to convey its themes. She primarily accomplishes this by establishing the dynamic of the family. While Katy is firmly positioned in the lead role, a good portion of the runtime is offered to the rest of the family to not only establish their own characters, but to highlight the disorganization of their environment, not so much in the literal sense, but in a more lackadaisical fashion. From both Katy and the audience’s perspectives, there’s never really a practical reason presented for why the photo isn’t able to be taken. That isn’t the case for everybody else, and it’s with that degree of separation that the movie is at its most interesting. Once news of the COVID-19 aspect of the story comes up in regards to Katy’s mother, there’s a nifty correlation to be made for the virus to act as a sort of metaphorical infestation for the rest of the family. And I’m not strictly referring to grief, but a sort of casual cosmic indifference. It’s worth noting that Kerr doesn’t prioritize having the plot be the center of the movie, but instead opts for a style akin to a tone poem which ruminates on its ideas. So it’s actually fitting for the picture that no one ever directly states their refusal to take the photo, but instead mundanely chooses to do nothing of note. That in turn, drives Katy’s motivation to regain control all the more fruitless. Kerr expanded on a number of these aspects alongside three of the film’s actors who accompanied her to this screening: Campbell, Robert Salas, and Daria Droteva spoke about Kerr’s directing process and the material she wanted to explore as stimulating and collaborative. The film’s lax tone was very much felt throughout production, which, to me, reaffirms the movie’s objectives. A few attributing factors to this are Kerr’s restrained sense of camera movement and the nature-heavy backdrop the film is set in. All told, I can commend the hard work put into making this film and what it represents, even if its glacial pacing makes its 73 minutes feel like twice that.
Foremost by Night — Liked It
I’ve written at length up to this point about just how many interesting films there were to see at this year’s festival. To whatever degree I liked them, I do feel every picture is definitely worth seeing. With that said, there is no other film of the festival that I walked away with more respect for than Víctor Iriarte’s Foremost by Night.Set in the northern territory of Spain, we follow Vera (Lola Dueñas), who, upon reconnecting with Egoz (the son she gave up for adoption 18 years prior, played by Manuel Egozkue), works with him and his adoptive mother, Cora (Ana Torrent), to rob the institution who deceived the trio for all these years. Something that really stuck with me after seeing this film was actually what Iriarte had to say after the screening. He said this film wasn’t made under the guise of a typical feature debut, or by adhering to standard cinematic convention. Instead, there was something grander at play with where his ambitions led him. Those ambitions do include an earnest desire to shed light on a very serious issue within the adoption care system regarding stolen children, but that’s not the lasting memory the film leaves you with. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a film like this one, which is willing to play with the medium to such a creative degree. Without ever feeling like the author is employing a gimmick, there are occasional shifts in aspect ratio, which actually serve to metaphorically progress the story. As far as how the story stands up when isolating that on its own, there’s not a ton of complexity beyond the initial description of the premise. That doesn’t extend to the character dynamics, as the main trio of Vera, Cora, and Egoz do earn a lot of the emotional investment, which is needed for the film’s climax. So while everything else is kept succinct, it’s done in its own way so as to not feel vacuous. As far as what makes that the case, it shouldn’t be understated how clever Iriarte is with his use of genre. What begins as a noir-inspired crime film morphs into melodrama with touches of coming-of-age, before ending as a heist flick. I’m only pressed to think of only a handful of films that execute genre shifts like this, so that’s worth commending. The final touches for what make this movie feel so unique are its tone and atmosphere. There’s a very enticing use of music, which adds enormously to the mood of the picture. For all intents and purposes, the score just gives off the kind of vibes you can’t help but get into. Cinematography is as chic as can be to set the stage for what is a beautiful looking film. Frames totally awash in gorgeous, but subdued looking color palettes that are nothing if not pleasing to the eye. The end product goes beyond cinema, but exists to resemble as a piece of art
Bye Bye Tiberias — Low Side of Liked It
Returning to one of the documentary selections I caught from the festival comes Bye Bye Tiberias,from Palestinian director Lina Soualem. The film follows Lina’s mother (Hiam Abbass) as she returns to her home village of Deir Hanna, Israel to reminisce on her family origins decades after leaving to pursue her dream to become an actress. If you’re familiar with the television series such as Succession or Ramy,you’ll certainly recognizeAbbass. In this, however, she sheds those characters for a more intimate look at a history that may be relatable for many, but is entirely her own. When I walked out of the auditorium following the screening, I had a sneaking suspicion this movie would be growing on me for reasons that wouldn’t normally be the case. Regardless of how I feel about a movie after the fact, I could never outright say my opinions can’t be subject to change. It’s in the very nature of film analysis to allow room for one’s feelings to evolve. For me, when reassessing my thoughts on a movie, it’s always certain facets from within the film that alter my opinion. With Bye Bye Tiberias, it became increasingly apparent that the dark cloud looming over it would be too close to ignore. While production occurred before the recent spike of violence in Hamas, the film’s lasting message ascends to another level entirely with that knowledge in tow. Soualem addressed this in the Q&A panel, citing that while the film isn’t meant to have all the answers for something it never personally addresses, there is something presciently disheartening about seeing the effects that stem from the system of repression alluded to. As far as what the film does on its own merits, there’s a genuineness to the moments of camaraderie, and solemn introspection, which provide it with an emotional resonance that’s hard to simulate. Soualem’s restrained direction also offers a key balance for what is shown to the audience, which is much appreciated when tackling such personal material. Editing should not go overlooked either, as there’s a subtle blend of scenes in modern day which aim to show the kind of love that can only come from the bonds formed between generations of women interspersed with archival footage from the ‘80s, shot by Abbass’s father, meant to visualize the history from where she came. All things considered, Bye Bye Tiberias makes for an informative watch and is well worth the investment if you’re interested in soul searching.
Sisterhood — High Side of Liked It
In yet another entry in the New Directors competition, Sisterhood tells the story of three teenage girls whose lifelong friendship becomes fractured when a video depicting an assault against one of them goes viral amongst their French populous. Writer/director Nora El Hourch makes a strong declaration for showcasing her talent with a film equal parts empowering and discomforting. During the Q&A, El Hourch spoke at length about how strenuous it was completing the script. Upon seeing the film, it would be an understatement to say it was in any way an effortless task. El Hourch wisely makes a few key decisions early on that allow for the utmost intrigue throughout narrative. For one, there’s an interesting inclusion of some recurring fantastical elements. In particular, scenes which would normally include explicit depictions that may be triggering for some are replaced with something else which borders on the ethereal. Additionally, rather than highlighting any particular girl, we spend time with each of them separately. This not only is meant to establish their characters as individuals, but to, in turn, contrast their differences to one another. The latter of which comes with much importance, as the various points of discussion Hourch wants the audience to have mostly stem from the cracks in the girls’ friendship. We follow Amina (Leah Aubert), Zineb (Salma Takaline), and Djeneba (Médina Diarra) as the titular trio at the center of this story. While Zineb bears the burden of being the victim of an assault, the conflicting stances from Amina and Djeneba on what course of action should be taken is where the film begins to explore additional issues distinct to each character. Whether it’s dealing with the effects of social media when inciting controversy, making peace with the insecurities about one’s heritage, using class as a means of creating division, or reclaiming the strength to stand up to one’s abuser, the film is able to tackle all of it head on. In what was surely one of the most memorable feature debuts I’ve seen in recent years, Sisterhood shines as an excellent addition to the feminist film genre.
Lost Country — Loved It
Set against the backdrop of a tumultuous election in 1996 Serbia, Lost Country follows 13-year-old Stefan (Jovan Ginic) as he struggles to make sense of the world around him upon dealing with consequences of having a mother work for an authoritarian regime as an on-air television personality. The only thing director and co-writer Vladimir Perisic said to the audience prior to the start of the film was that he made it with love, as opposed to his previous feature, which was fueled by anger. At around the 10-minute mark, I understood what he meant completely. Everything that follows the opening prologue would feel incomplete were it not for the care taken to set up the main relationship of the film between Stefan and his mother, Marklena (Jasna Djuricic). Where the film goes from there feels like an exact implementation of the vision I believe Perisic had in mind. The world as it’s presented is a bleak and cold one, never once letting up for the audience or Stefan. The cinematography and production design also do wonders in making the film feel timeless, despite being ultra specific to a very real feeling moment in Serbia’s history. If anything, how hands-on the movie is with the political context required to tell this story only makes it that much more impressive. Another interesting aspect is the recurring use of motifs that not only guide the viewer into Stefan’s state of mind, but make for excellent foreshadowing, the most frequent of which would be the usage of water and the colors blue and red. Looking back on these moments have me convinced I could watch the movie without sound and get the same takeaways. If there’s one more note I want to leave on, it’s something I haven’t brought up regarding my festival experience, given its bared no relevance up to this point: If you ever find yourself at a festival, expect a good deal of applause. For just about every screening I attended, it felt customary for there to be applause at the start and end of each film for what I presume was out of respect for the overall experience. At the end of this film, however, complete silence. Perisic had said that he prefers not to dispel anyone’s interpretations regarding his work, especially with the ending of this picture. I have much respect for him having that perspective as an artist. For me, however, there’s no space for interpretation regarding the final scene of the film. If you choose to believe only one thing I’ve had to say throughout this entire series, believe me when I say that is not an ending you clap for.