SIFF 2021: Goddess of the Fireflies

Goddess of the Fireflies

Angst, rage, and experimentation are essential components to a great coming-of-age story. In her early 90s period drama, Goddess of the Fireflies, Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette delivers on these pillars of young adulthood with excess. Leaning heavily into the grunge aesthetic of the era, Barbeau-Lavalette delivers on the teen spirit that Kirk Cobain would recognize, for better and for worse.

Catherine (Kelly Depeault) begins her 17th year on the planet under less than stellar circumstances. Her parents cap off her family celebration with squabble ending in property destruction and at school she is mocked by the burnout crowd she idolizes. After one humiliation to far, Catherine becomes determined to fit in with the people she wants and drops some of her birthday money on mescaline. From that moment on, Catherine takes control of her life even if by doing so she turns down some self-destructive paths. The blur of sex and drugs that follows encapsulates the joys of life experienced by someone to young to comprehend consequences.

When dealing with stories about young people experimenting with sex and drugs, there is a fine line between preachy and glorification that needs to be carefully skirted to deliver the most effective story possible. Barbeau-Lavalette avoids either pitfall by not denying the joy Catherine experiences while high but also providing serious consequences. Her addiction to drugs is undeniable, but while her home life is crumbling to pieces her burnout friends offer her a needed familial support. They may use drugs in excess as an unhealthy vice, but her friends Marie (Éléonore Loiselle) and Keven (Robin L’Houmeau) have an undeniable positive impact on her life. Even when reality catches up to the group and the negatives consequences of their lifestyle materializes, Catherine can go to this group for support more than her parents.

The late teens is a time rife for finding oneself, and experimentation of all manners is an important aspect of this time. When capturing this age on screen, it is important to not overly focus on the result of any one experimentation. Growing up is all about the journey both good and bad. Barbeau-Lavalette wonderfully captures this nuance in Goddess of the Fireflies by putting her characters forward. Catherine’s highs and lows are given equal weight in the film, and while the climax offers a definitive answer as to the result of fully embracing the excess, walking down that path had significant positives on her life as well. The film acknowledges that a blend is always the most fulfilling solution when growing up.

A 2021 Film Journey: Day 98 – Day 108

I’m combining all of these days together because I’m attending the Seattle International Film Festival. Instead of a daily blog format, I’m writing individual reviews for every film that I watch. This post will just bee to ensure there’s some consistency when looking at the project as a whole and will have a quick personal blurb followed by a link to the individual reviews for each day.

Day 98 – First day of SIFF and I tried to hit the ground running. I made it through 4 films today including The Pink Cloud which was the film I had heard the most buzz for going into it.

The Pink Cloud (2021, Dir. Iuli Gerbase)

I’M FINE (Thanks for Asking) (2021, Dir. Kelley Kali and Angelique Molina)

Summer of 85 (2020, François Ozon)

The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet (2021, Dir. Ana Katz)

Day 99 – Only three movies for the second day of SIFF, but today’s lot included one of the longest films in the festival as well as the film I was inspired to write the longest review over.

Goddess of the Fireflies (2020, Dir. Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette)

Valentina (2020, Dir. Cássio Pereira dos Santos)

There Is No Evil (2020, Dir. Mohammad Rasoulof)

Day 100 – It feels somewhat anticlimactic to be hitting this milestone and treating it as a blurb in the midst of this aggregate post, but with 4 movies watched and a review written for each, today’s already been a long writing day. The only thing I really have to add is that this project has been amazing for me, and I feel much better 100 days later for undertaking it.

Bad Tales (2020, Dir. Damiano and Fabio D’Innocenzo)

Charter (2020, Dir. Amanda Kernell)

Summertime (2021, Dir. Carlos López Estrada)

Bebia, à Mon Seul Désir (2021, Dir. Juja Dobrachkous)

Day 101 – I’m not going to lie, I definitely underestimated the amount of work writing a review for this many films was going to be. It’s definitely slowing my watching progress (I assumed that weekends I could probably fit in five films when I only got through three today). I’m going to keep this up as much as I can, but wow am I exhausted.

Little Girl (2020, Dir. Sébastien Lifshitz)

Get the Hell Out (2020, Dir. I.-Fan Wang)
—– Also includes Mom Fight (2019, Dir. Mickey Finnegan)

Slalom (2021, Dir. Charlène Favier)

Day 102 – I definitely should have taken the week off of work. This has been an exhausting endeavor. The blog posts that I’ve done for this project thus far has not prepared me for the extend of writing I’m doing for this, but if I can at least keep making it through two movies a day I’ll call it a success.

Beans (2021, Dir. Tracey Deer)
—– Also includes Bub (2021, Dir. Oriwa Hakaraia and Te Mahara Tamahana)

Waikiki (2020, Dir. Christopher Kahunahana)
—– Also includes PIIKSI/Huia (2021, Dir. Joshua Manyheads and Cian Elyse White)

Day 103 – A busy day at work again kept me limited to two viewings. Like I mentioned yesterday. If I can routinely make it through 2 movies with reviews while working full days, that’s a win.

Sweat (2020, Dir. Magnus von Horn)

The Earth is Blue as an Orange (2020, Dir. Iryna Tsilyk)

Day 104 – Another busy one today, but I made it through another 2 films. The festival fatigue is really hitting (even with it being exclusively virtual), but I’m still glad I’ve kept this up even if the reviews come increasingly late.

Strawberry Mansion (2021, Dir. Kentucker Audley and Albert Birney)
—– Also includes The Other Morgan (2021, Dir. Alison Rich)

Wisdom Tooth (2019, Dir. Liang Ming)

Day 105 – I managed to suppress a bit of the festival fatigue today by watching the first film of the night outside on my balcony. The fresh air really helped. Today’s offerings were very uneven. One film that I did not connect with and the other that jumps into the to tier of the ones I’ve seen for the festival.

Rebel Objects (2021, Dir. Carolina Arias Ortiz)

Topside (2021, Dir. Logan George and Celine Held)
—– Also includes Huntsville Station (2020, Dir. Chris Filippone and Jamie Meltzer)

Day 106 – This was a surreal day for me involving this project. Earlier in the week, my review of Valentina got the notice of the film’s twitter account. That made me feel great, but I realized it was just free PR for the film. Today’s engagement level was different. The positive review I gave for Too Late resulted in not just a retweet from the film’s account, but retweets from the director stating that I made her happy cry and a DM from the lead actress left me flabbergasted. This is the best I’ve felt in a long time.

Too Late (2021, Dir. D.W. Thomas)
—–Also includes Unholy ‘Mole (2019, Dir. David Bornstein)

The Spy (2019, Dir. Jens Jonsson)

Day 107 – The second to last day of the festival and even though it was a weekend I’m approaching the end of the list of films I pegged for watching, so I let today be a relatively light day before a final push tomorrow.

The Teacher (2019, Dir. Ming-Lang Chen)

Ma Belle, My Beauty (2021, Dir. Marion Hill)

Day 108 – The last day of SIFF. For today only, I chose to adjust my schedule a bit. I had been writing each film’s review before proceeding the the next, but for the final day I watch movies straight through so I could get as many in before the end of the festival as possible. I’m happy with the decision even if it means I’m going to be juggling multiple projects for the next couple days.

Fly So Far (2021, Dir. Celina Escher)

The Perfect Candidate (2021, Dir. Haifaa Al-Mansour)

God Exists, Her Name is Petrunya (2019, Dir. Teona Strugar Mitevska)

Son of Monarchs (2021, Dir. Alexis Gambis)

SIFF 2021: The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet

The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet is an absurdist drama by Argentinian filmmaker Ana Katz. In it, she uses a listless protagonist as a vessel for a variety of vignettes exploring universal truths while maintaining a dry sense of humor throughout. Coincidental parallels in the film to worldwide pandemic offer an unexpected connection to some of the more absurd premises. All of this is enhanced by gorgeous black and white cinematography and a screenplay that constantly builds upon itself.

Sebastian’s (Daniel Katz, the director’s brother) dog will not be quiet while Sebastian is at work, and she is driving the neighbors crazy. Sebastian rectifies this issue by taking his dog with him to work which promptly results in his firing. From there, Sebastian goes on an increasingly absurd journey including a stint working with a collective of communist farmers and eventually getting married (his wife is portrayed by Julieta Zylberberg) and having a child during a worldwide emergency where all air more than four feet off the ground is toxic to breathe. Through each of these events, Sebastian maintains a positive demeanor and is always there to help anyone in need.

The risk in films that are as episodic as The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet is that if the through line is not strong enough, the film falls apart. Ana Katz was able to avoid that misfortune by making Sebastian’s unbridled optimism and philanthropy act as a constant straight man for the absurd situations Katz writes for him. This grounded presence also helps in processing the more extreme scenarios. As the film flirts with surrealism, the audience can look to Sebastian for a baseline while the absurdist atmosphere envelopes them.

Through a collection of head scratching vignettes, Ana Katz exposes a multitude of human insecurities in her film The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet. Buoyed by a tightly focused screenplay and a lead performance tailor made for the feature, The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet delivers everything that can be asked of a film this disconnected from the Hollywood cinematic scene. It is well worth the 73 minutes for anyone looking for something unique.

SIFF 2021: Summer of 85

Summer of 85': why you need to see the best teen drama of the autumn

Summer of 85 is well respected auteur François Ozon’s foray into the queer coming-of-age subgenre. Set in the mid-80s as the title indicates, Ozon leverages the sexually regressive past as a building block for family drama and young ignorance. All that coupled with a unique framing device Ozon attempts to tell a brimming, complex narrative in a concise 90-minute package.

While caught in a storm, Alexis (Félix Lefebvre) capsizes his boat only to be saved by David (Benjamin Voisin). That fateful encounter begins what will eventually become the most important romance of Alexis’s young life. Enchanted by David’s flirtatious nature, Alex spends all of his time with his crush including getting a job working at David and his mother’s (Valeria Bruni Tedeschi) fishing shop. As the weeks go by, Alexis is eventually forced to understand that summer flings are fleeting in nature and that first loves never last for as long as we want.

Love stories are only as relatable as their actors can portray. Unfortunately for Summer of 85, stilted acting deprives the film of some of this relatability. Even when both boys give into their emotions in the story, the actors especially Lefebvre play everything guarded. This restraint works well when they figuratively dance around their feelings, but it becomes immersion breaking when the two are supposed to be in the throes of love. There is no vulnerability in Alexis’s character which is an essential component of a good coming-of-age story. This frigidness of character is further hampered by the films pacing. The six-week relationship between the boys is condensed to one montage a handful of scenes. The film’s short runtime means that these emotional moments were so fleeting that a few awkward takes stunted the film’s emotional core.

François Ozon understands that the queer coming-of-age drama is no longer a unique topic, so he expanded the premise beyond a traditional narrative by introducing a sprawling framing device to Summer of 85. While a fine decision in theory, some awkward acting and minimal romantic moments deprives the film of its heart. What’s left are countless scenes of Alexis talking about his lost love without showing a believable picture of the love in the first place.

SIFF 2021: I’M FINE (Thanks for Asking)

I'M FINE (Thanks for Asking)

“How are you?” always feels like a loaded question when the answer is anything but great. In I’M FINE (Thanks for Asking), directors Kelley Kali and Angelique Molina use the backdrop of the pandemic to explore how toxic that question can feel when the answer is anything but fine and how easily everything can spiral down when holding on by a thread.

Director Kelley Kali also stars in the film as Danny a single mother who was recently widowed. She and her 8-year-old Wes (Wesley Moss) have been living in a tent by the side of the road for some time in absence of a steady income from deceased Sam. Danny reminds Wes to keep their “camping” a secret before dropping her off with a friend, donning her roller-skates in absence of car, and setting out to make the last few hundred dollars for an apartment security deposit. As she traverses L.A. under the scorching sun, she becomes increasingly desperate to procure the necessary funds after a client shorts her. Eventually, with the help of a little weed, she gives in to a friend’s inquisition and betrays that everything is not fine. Unfortunately, her defense mechanism of answering “I’m fine” proves justified when even in the people who proport to care about her she finds he no solace.

More than anything, I’M FINE (Thanks for Asking) captures thefeeling of futility that accompanies poverty. For Danny it seems that everything that could go wrong does because she has nothing so every misstep has significant consequences that no amount of good luck can overcome. This hopelessness is best visualized by a moment where Danny stumbles in a puddle and the film cuts to a shot of her fully submerged in water while her envelope of cash floats out of grasp. While striking, this sequence also betrays the flaw in the film. Danny’s misery is the point, but the film does feel a little overindulgent in the melodrama at times. It is not significant enough to sour the picture, but enough to call out.

The most significant thing that I’M FINE (Thanks for Asking) has going for it is that it represents a slice of America largely ignored by Hollywood. As a houseless woman of color, Danny’s story is often told as a charity case through the lens of an affluent white person if at all, but Kali and Molina portray her as a full person who is so much more than her housing status. She is a loving mother who would do anything for her child and is just as worthy of a cinematic depiction as anyone.

SIFF 2021: The Pink Cloud

The Pink Cloud Is a Beautiful Pandemic Nightmare About What's Lurking Inside

In the opening seconds of The Pink Cloud, director Iuli Gerbase explains that her first feature was written in 2017 and shot in 2019 and that any similarities to real life events were merely coincidental. While these caveats are not uncommon in films, to put a message like this front and center implies a significant link between the film’s presence and real-life events. In this case, it turns out that Gerbase inadvertently predicted the quarantine reality that would consume the world between the film’s inception and release.

The film begins with the titular cloud descending upon a young dog walker and taking its first life. Later that morning Giovana (Renata de Lélis) and Yago (Eduardo Mendonça) are woken up from their one-night stand by the sound of sirens alerting the city to the unprecedented emergency. The two thirtysomethings despite being unacquainted the morning prior are then forced to quarantine together until the cloud goes away. As the days together turn to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years, the relationship between the pair originally only searching for an uncomplicated fling is tried, broken, and repaired only to be tried and broken again.

Despite being conceived in a pre-COVID world, it would be impossible to evaluate The Pink Cloud without making parallels to the real-life quarantine that has impacted much of the world over the past 12 months. Giovana and Yago’s experience with the imposed quarantine resonates with the world experience of the audience in a way that Gerbase could never have anticipated. She perfectly encapsulates the feeling that, while the reason for a quarantine may be valid, the tedium from a life in quarantine is not without serious mental consequences of its own. The characters all struggle to attain the acceptance stage of grief because as time progresses hope seems fruitless.

Any year prior to this, The Pink Cloud would likely receive festival-only buzz wherever it was shown. Iuli Gerbase shows substantial skills as a first-time director, but her film is enough outside the formula of what breaks out of festivals for it to reach a wider notoriety. However, since the film was able to perfectly tap into a collective trauma her debut is permeating the cultural zeitgeist as the first great COVID film.

SIFF 2021

My first film festival that I’ve had any sort of pass for in almost five years (the last one was TIFF 2016) is also the first time that I’ve dedicated myself to watching a significant number of films from my city’s festival. While the normal theaters these films would show in are a walk or quick bus away, COVID has forced this film to be 100% virtual. In the theater or not, I’m excited to watch festival movies and find the hidden gems.

Aggregated here are the reviews for each film I watched in the order I watched them.

The Pink Cloud (2021, Dir. Iuli Gerbase) – ⋆⋆⋆⋆

I’M FINE (Thanks for Asking) (2021, Dir. Kelley Kali and Angelique Molina) – ⋆⋆⋆

Summer of 85 (2020, François Ozon) – ⋆⋆½

The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet (2021, Dir. Ana Katz) – ⋆⋆⋆⋆

Goddess of the Fireflies (2020, Dir. Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette) – ⋆⋆⋆⋆½

Valentina (2020, Dir. Cássio Pereira dos Santos) – ⋆⋆⋆⋆

There Is No Evil (2020, Dir. Mohammad Rasoulof) – ⋆⋆⋆½

Bad Tales (2020, Dir. Damiano and Fabio D’Innocenzo) – ⋆⋆⋆

Charter (2020, Dir. Amanda Kernell) – ⋆⋆⋆⋆½

Summertime (2021, Dir. Carlos López Estrada) – ⋆⋆½

Bebia, à Mon Seul Désir (2021, Dir. Juja Dobrachkous) – ⋆⋆⋆

Little Girl (2020, Dir. Sébastien Lifshitz) – ⋆⋆⋆⋆

Get the Hell Out (2020, Dir. I.-Fan Wang) – ⋆⋆
—– Also includes Mom Fight (2019, Dir. Mickey Finnegan) – ⋆⋆⋆

Slalom (2021, Dir. Charlène Favier) – ⋆⋆⋆½

Beans (2021, Dir. Tracey Deer) – ⋆⋆½
—– Also includes Bub (2021, Dir. Oriwa Hakaraia and Te Mahara Tamahana) – ⋆½

Waikiki (2020, Dir. Christopher Kahunahana) – ⋆⋆⋆
—– Also includes PIIKSI/Huia (2021, Dir. Joshua Manyheads and Cian Elyse White) – ⋆⋆⋆

Sweat (2020, Dir. Magnus von Horn) – ⋆⋆

The Earth is Blue as an Orange (2020, Dir. Iryna Tsilyk) – ⋆⋆⋆

Strawberry Mansion (2021, Dir. Kentucker Audley and Albert Birney) – ⋆⋆⋆½
—– Also includes The Other Morgan (2021, Dir. Alison Rich) – ⋆⋆⋆

Wisdom Tooth (2019, Dir. Liang Ming) – ⋆⋆⋆½

Rebel Objects (2021, Dir. Carolina Arias Ortiz) – ⋆

Topside (2021, Dir. Logan George and Celine Held) – ⋆⋆⋆⋆
—– Also includes Huntsville Station (2020, Dir. Chris Filippone and Jamie Meltzer) – ⋆⋆⋆

Too Late (2021, Dir. D.W. Thomas) – ⋆⋆⋆½
—–Also includes Unholy ‘Mole (2019, Dir. David Bornstein) – ⋆⋆⋆

The Spy (2019, Dir. Jens Jonsson) – ⋆½

The Teacher (2019, Dir. Ming-Lang Chen) – ⋆⋆

Ma Belle, My Beauty (2021, Dir. Marion Hill) – ⋆⋆⋆

Fly So Far (2021, Dir. Celina Escher) – ⋆⋆⋆

The Perfect Candidate (2021, Dir. Haifaa Al-Mansour) – ⋆⋆⋆½

God Exists, Her Name is Petruya (2019, Dir. Teona Strugar Mitevska) – ⋆½

Son of Monarchs (2021, Dir. Alexis Gambis) – ⋆⋆⋆

A 2021 Film Journey: Day 97

Today marks the final day of my interlude between completing my Oscar viewing and the beginning of SIFF. Before jumping into today’s feature, which was another choice of a film that I’d been wanting to watch for a while, I want to talk a bit about my plan for the next 11 days of the festival. Rather than an informal blog post at the end of each day like I’m doing now, I’m hoping to write something more akin to mini reviews for the films that I watch. I’ll likely aggregate a day’s worth under this post category for continuity’s sake, but I won’t be doing double work.

Russian Ark (2002, Dir. Aleksandr Sokurov)

I don’t believe I’ve ever felt less cultured by a film before. Aleksandr Sokurov’s technical tour de force is a love letter to Russian Empire and the art housed in the Saint Petersburg Winter Palace. Taking place over a 96-minute single shot, the film traverses eras from the 1800s to present day as the palace is used for operas, a ceremonial imperial audience, a ball, and museum attendance. Each of these moments represent an important moment in Russian history that I wish my subpar US school system prepared me to appreciate more.

More than anything else, what stands out when watching Russian Ark is the spectacle of it all. The single take gimmick is the showiest aspect of the spectacle. As the Steadicam moves at a rather deliberate pace, the impressiveness of the single shot filmmaking is less about any singular difficult moment and rather at the grandiose scope of it all. The final 20 minutes in particular as the camera weaves through hundreds of dancing extras all meticulously costumed for a period ball is breathtaking in it’s beauty. When the music finally ends and the hundreds of actors all proceed to exit the palace bringing the camera with them, it’s as if the film is taking a bow with one final acknowledgement of the technical feat that was accomplished over the last hour and a half. Even with a lacking at best knowledge of the Russian Empire’s history, these moments sold the occasionally opaque film for me.

A 2021 Film Journey: Day 96

Today again I found myself with a little decision paralysis in picking what to watch. With the entire cinematic library as an option, it was hard to know where to begin. I only have three days between the conclusion of Oscar viewing and the start of SIFF, so like yesterday I chose a film that was of personal interest even if it wouldn’t be considered a blind sport by any traditional metric. The main difference between today’s viewing and yesterday’s is that yesterday’s film was the last film I hadn’t seen by a director, while today’s film was the second I’ve watched from a director I’ve want to see more from.

Hotel by the River (2019, Dir. Hong Sang-soo)

Hotel by the River Review: Hong Sang-soo Almost Makes a Rom-Com | IndieWire

As blockbusters stuffed to the gills with loud action set pieces occupy an ever-increasing market share of the world’s films, I’m thankful that directors like Hong Sang-soo are around to create wonderful works of slow cinema. Movies that the most people would turn off after five minutes from boredom are frequently my favorites. The lethargic pacing creates a meditative experience that enhances my personal viewing experience. Hong builds on the natural meditative qualities of the film’s pace with a complete lack of non-diegetic music and black and white cinematography. This allows for limited distractions for the audience encouraging self-reflection.

While the specifics of the story, the little that there is, is largely unimportant the themes are the heart of the film those being fear of change. In this way, the hotel reflects a purgatory where the characters hide from progress. Ko Young-hwan (Gi Ju-bong) has been staying for them for two weeks and suffers from visions of death and creative blockage. A-reum (Kim Min-hee) fakes a burn injury and is distraught over a recent breakup. Both characters are visited by friends and family, but others are unable to convince them to movie on. When Ko Young-hwan is forced to leave the purgatorial hotel before he’s ready, he retaliates in a definitive way. Hotel by the River was wonderful experience for viewers with the patience to appreciate its minutia.

A 2021 Film Journey: Day 95

After almost a month straight of watching Oscar shortlisted or nominated films, I almost didn’t know what to do with myself today. With no feeling of obligation to watch any specific thing, I chose to cross off a film from my personal list. It’s not especially a blind spot because I don’t think it’s seen as a seminal piece of the cinematic landscape, but it was the only film I had yet to watch by a director I appreciate more and more with each additional film’s first viewing or re-watch of any of his other works.

Millennium Actress (2001, Dir. Satoshi Kon)

Millennium Actress (2001) directed by Satoshi Kon • Reviews, film + cast •  Letterboxd

We’ll never know how much amazing cinema we lost with the untimely passing of Satoshi Kon. He only made four feature films before unexpectedly passing away from pancreatic cancer at the age of 46, but each one is brilliant in its own way. Much of what makes Kon’s films so spectacular is the editing in his films. He makes frequent use of match cuts to blur scenes and realities together. This combined with shot durations shorter than physically possible lends a frenetic energy to each of his works.

Millennium Actress makes clear use of this cinematic signature by blending an aging actress’s life story with the films that she starred in. When the presumed flashback is first betrayed as a scene from one of her films, the speed of the story begins a constant acceleration as each film receives slightly less time, and the barriers between filmography and memory blur. While this could come across as muddled and confusing in search of the character’s truth, this is not a fault of Kon’s. Rather, the muddled events between Chiyoko Fujiwara’s career and life reflect the duality of her life. Satoshi Kon’s style works perfectly to express the complexities of the human experience in this mock biopic.