Drawing on the tradition of oral storytelling, ôtênaw is a philosophical and creative treatment of land rights, territory, history and culture. As Dr. Dwayne Donald leads a walking tour of amiskwaciwâskahikan (now the city of Edmonton), talking about the history of the land and the people who lived there, the layers of human habitation slowly reveal themselves.
The Road Movie is a film one watches in a state somewhere between existential dread and morbid hilarity. Voyeuristic, yes, but there is something even more curious at work here, namely the capricious, occasionally malevolent force that for lack of a better term we call fate. It pops up in meteors streaking across the sky, in car crashes, runaway tanks, forest fires and pop-eyed madmen. Here it is, the nature of the universe — endlessly unpredictable, prone to sudden bursts of freaky weirdness, all helpfully captured by dashboard cameras, present in almost all Russian cars.
Director Salome Jashi plays with the idea of perception in this enlightening film about contemporary Georgian life. The town folk in the interviews, as well as the journalists themselves, are acutely aware of how they are perceived. This often results in delicately painful conversations about just what aspects of the community, and its inhabitants, should be displayed, and what content is best left out.
Yuri Ancarani’s beautiful and bizarre film takes us inside the rarefied world of Middle Eastern falconry. Here the sport attracts passionate devotees from the Qatari hyper-rich who compete at auction for the best birds, drive deep into the desert to train their charges, and then assemble in Mad Max-style stadiums for spectacular tournaments.
Shot over two years from 2014 to 2016, Praia unfolds a portrait of Brazilian life that captures the vibrancy and idiosyncratic eclecticism that draw tourists and locals to the country’s beaches. Filmmaker Guilherme B. Hoffmann takes an observational approach, creating a film that is by turns comic, sweet, and serious as he introduces us to a motley collection of characters on Rio de Janeiro’s iconic Copacabana Beach.
Recalling the work of Portuguese master Pedro Costa, in particular his Fontainhas trio (Ossos, In Vanda’s Room, and Colossal Youth) Little Go Girls has the same almost magisterial quality of image. The women and girls who ply their trade initially regard de Latour’s camera with benign indifference. But the relationship between the women and the filmmaker gradually grows more trusting.
Along the sidewalks and cafés of Seine-Saint- Denis, groups of young men, dressed in hoodies and streetwear, talk with remarkable bluntness and honesty about love, desire, sex, and race. As one man says “White people experience love They were taught how.” Made with a shattering level of intimacy, Alice Diop’s film is both a cinepoem and a piercing statement on the nature of disenfranchisement.