On the surface the life of Agassi is one that could have come straight out of a movie, having discovered the world of gay porn he became an international, award winning star. Travelling the world for his work, Agassi was the definition of love and making love – or so it seems.
“When someone goes to bed with Jonathan Agassi they want a god.”
Heymann and Agassi met in Tel Aviv. Immediately drawn to Agassi, Heymann set out to tell the story of the internationally successful porn star. With no deadlines, no budget and a constantly developing storyline the making of the film unravelled elements of Agassi’s life that he never planned on exposing. Shot over 8 years, this is a journey that does not hold back, from the highs to the lows Jonathan Agassi reveals the person behind the persona.
Agassi will be visiting London in December for some very special Q&A screenings, there may even be opportunity to get your DVD signed. Q&A Screening info: ICA December 4th Genesis December 5th
Have you seen this month’s most talked about documentary Hail Satan? yet?
Hail Satan? follows The Satanic Temple and its rise in popularity since it was established in 2006, becoming the primary religious Satanic organisation in the world. Formed as a counter religion to the likes of Christianity, Hail Satan?explores the unethical merge between state and religion that has developed in modern America. As a recognised religious organisation The Satanic Temple uses its high profile and often controversial campaigns to promote and preserve secularism.
Often feared in the mainstream due to its links to the Devil, Hail Satan?demonstrates the true ethics behind The Satanic Temple and the positive work they are doing in society – even if at times demonstrations can be a little shocking. The shock, of course, is never more than theatrics to draw attention to the cause.
“Satanism is looking out for the other, because we are the other”
Satanism, as a recognised religious practise, is not a recent phenomenon. In the 1960s the Church of Satan was formed by Anton LaVey, a charismatic leader he gained a celebrity status as well as a celebrity following. One of the most iconic profiles linked to the Church of Satan was Jayne Mansfield who befriended LeVey and reportedly benefited from LaVey’s black magic.
In our documentary MANSFIELD 66/67 Jayne Mansfield’s final years are played out. Having lived a life in the public eye, Mansfield sought solace in drink, drugs and Anton LaVey. After a series of unfortunate events her life came to an end in a fatal car crash in 1967. Many conspiracy theories followed, was it a curse? Did the devil make her do it? Made to coincide with the 50th anniversary of her death, MANSFIELD 66/67 is a gloriously entertaining, Hollywood Babylon style exploration of the last two years of the life of ‘the first reality TV star’.
Recently released, this is the 19th volume in the BOYS ON FILM catalogue, but only my first time watching the series. BOF 19 wraps up its teenage years compiling and celebrating ten short LGBTQ films under the header ‘NO ORDINARY BOY’. Although all dealing with issues of identity and sexuality of some kind, none of these films are alike. Ranging from comedy to romance to thriller, even animation, the collection boasts directorial voices from around the world, many recounting their own experiences.
Some of my highlights include:
Dean Loxton’s MEATOO, following an actor being auditioned by a casting director whose behaviour and demands turn more and more predatory. Although written and shot in one day, MEATOO seems flawlessly calculated, with a bubbling atmosphere and a slick 4-minute runtime. Inspired by casting experiences of his own, Loxton says “It was only a few years later, looking back, that I saw it for what it was – a hotel, only the director, me half naked. I was twenty – I felt for the lads in their late-teens waiting to go in. Some had their mum’s with them that I doubt were allowed in the room.”
THE FISH CURRY, is one of the short films that makes BOYS ON FILM 19 as eclectic a collection as it is. Directed by Indian animator Abhishek Verma, it tells the story of Lalit, a young man finally coming out to his parents over their favourite dish, a fish curry. The intimate story is paired with striking visuals and a haunting cartoonish look, reminiscent of the films of Sylvain Chomet. With the short animation Abhishek Verma seeks to compare love to food, “it should make people understand that love is like food – it helps you to be happy, it can take away your hunger. There’s no point in making a separation based on sexuality, religion, colour, caste, or class. It’s all about love!”
JERMAINE AND ELSIE by actor / director Leon Lopez moved me more than I had anticipated. Especially well written and acted, it’s a short film touching on topics such as race, identity and the kindness between strangers. We follow young black carer Jermaine, docile and kind, as he looks after the older, more opinionated and outspoken Elsie. Their characters clash initially, mostly due to Elsie’s strong personality and old-fashioned views, but Jermaine’s big heart wins her over, and we are soon touched by their friendship too. When Jermaine is suddenly replaced, Elsie is determined to find out the truth about her friend.
Ben Allen’s BLOOD OUT OF A STONE offers a perfect romcom set-up – the romantic Michael sets Dan a series of challenges before their first date in order to form a more immediate connection – but also tells a quietly introspective and timid story. Through the challenges Dan finds himself out of his comfort zone and uneasy, yet can’t help taking a liking to Michael’s honesty and charm. The wistful and sensitive atmosphere aids in bringing director Ben Allen’s real dating experiences to life.
“It’s a comment on how this new age of apparent choice can leave a lot of people feeling stranded – this applies to everyone, not just gay people. It’s also talking about tribalism within the gay community. How certain types of people might feel that they can’t be with someone else who is a different type.”
With DUSK, written and directed by transgender filmmaker and actor Jake Graf, we arrive at what feels like the stand out of the collection.
As an older transgender man Chris Winters looks back on his lifetime, he considers the choices he has made and the what could have beensif he was born into a different body. The pressures and views of society in the mid to late 1900s paired with the alternate reality in Chris’ head almost give the film a dystopian or science-fiction like atmosphere, but the pressure of feeling like you don’t fit in couldn’t be more real. Although DUSK explores elements of the transgender experience, the film will connect with lots of audiences.
Jake Graf was inspired to make the film after a trans man emailed him about his experience of societal pressure and of not being comfortable with his identity until his 70s.
It was
compelling to see how these short films would feel threaded together. As a
filmmaker myself they were motivating to watch, and I was moved more than I had
anticipated by some of them. It was inspiring to see how these directors and
filmmakers brought their own experiences to life. I am curious and excited to
work my way back and catch some of BOYS ON FILM’s previous collections.
Are You Proud? celebrates Pride, it explores the joys and division of the LGBTQ+ protest movement of then and now
Statement by Ashley Joiner:
A few years ago, when a partner’s mother, a LGBTQ+ activist, asked whether I would be attending Pride, I answered with a resounding “No”. I felt a total disconnect to what I perceived Pride to be. Her response was: “You don’t know your history!”. She was right – I didn’t. I had no knowledge of Section 28 and knew only of rumours and lies regarding the AIDS crisis. Exploring our history has helped me to understand why I grew up as an isolated young gay man filled with shame and fear. I knew I had to make this film in the effort to prevent anyone else feeling that way.
Are You Proud? is an exploration of a community that has tirelessly campaigned for my existence; the lives and battles fought that aren’t discussed or taught in schools, of a community that I am a part of, and is a part of me.
This is the film I needed to see when I was a child, and as a young gay man coming out. Making this film has emboldened me to continue the fight that so many have fought before me, and I hope that it encourages others to do the same.
Screenings
There will be Q&A screenings with Ashley Joiner and contributors around the UK from July. The first event is on 2nd JulyGenesis Cinema Mile End (in association with Fringe Fest) follow by 3rd July at Picturehouse Central.
How did you get the idea of offering her (Isabelle Huppert) the part of playing herself?
I thought it was interesting for Marvin to meet a woman from the theater, and Isabelle was an obvious choice from the earliest writing stage. It seemed self-evident. I didn’t know if she would say yes, but I couldn’t see anyone else in the role, which is small but very important – she literally reverses Marvin’s destiny. I think she was very touched by the film.
Tell us about Finnegan Oldfield and Jules Porier, the two actors who play Marvin.
I discovered Finnegan in “Bang Gang” by Eva Husson and “Les Cowboys” by Thomas Bidegain. I had him do several screen tests – with Gregory Gadebois especially – and didn’t hesitate long. Finnegan is an exceptional person. His story is exceptional, and his beauty is, too. I liked his indecisive relationship to femininity and virility, and the way he walks, almost like he’s levitating.
And I was completely love-struck by Jules Porier. I started looking for him way ahead of time. The role was complex, and the actor playing him had to be able to express a lot of emotions as well as a certain vulnerability – all with very little dialogue. He also had to have a certain physical resemblance to Finnegan. Jules was already in improvisation classes and responded on his own to the ad we posted on the internet. He really wanted to get into film work.
How did you prepare for the film with the two Marvins?
First by trying to build up their physical resemblance in the most subtle way possible: I dyed their hair red, I worked on their flesh tones and freckles, and I filmed them together a long time. Making the resemblance work was of the utmost necessity – the viewer shouldn’t have the slightest doubt about their identity.
Next, I asked Finnegan to prepare physically, with dance and gymnastic classes, to perfect the body awareness he already had naturally. He and I worked a lot on his character,
especially the scenes where he is alone in his student housing and the ones where he is on stage at the Bouffes du Nord. He needed direction – it reassured him.
One month before shooting began Jules, Grégory Gadebois, Catherine Salée and I left to do rehearsals in the Bijou family home. For four weeks, we tested the dialogue, worked out the violent scenes and did a lot of real searching. I had already used that method making “The Innocents” and I’ve become attached to it. It allows you to create connections between the actors, get right into the subject matter and explore possibilities without the obligation of producing results. It gives you freedom.
There are a lot of characters in the film.
And a lot of actors with important roles. “Marvin” probably has the most out of any film I’ve made.
You had already worked with Vincent Macaigne on “The Innocents,” but it’s your first time directing Grégory Gadebois, Catherine Salée and Catherine Mouchet.
More and more, I like mixing together well-known and lesser-known actors. I liked Grégory Gadebois so much that we are going to be on another film together very soon. And I love the friendliness Catherine Salée projects. Even though she doesn’t understand her son at all, I wanted the audience to feel empathy for Marvin’s mother.
As for Catherine Clément’s character, she couldn’t be a run-of-the-mill principal. She’s not your Mrs. Everywoman. I envisioned a few different actresses for the role, but when I met Catherine Mouchet, I couldn’t resist. She has a fire in her eye, the same one she had in Alain Cavalier’s “Thérèse.” With the poetry, uniqueness, and above all, mystery that she brings to the role, as small as it may be, she succeeds in making a powerful impact. She is a rare actress.
There are also many non-professional actors in “Marvin” – a lot of children.
Including the young girl who does a scene with Marvin, and who is really great. I was very attached to having them interact like that with the other actors. When I chose them and learned about their lives, they brought me even closer to my subject.
You filmed in the Vosges Mountains. Why that particular region?
I didn’t want to go to Northern France, where most films that touch upon social hardship are shot. I was somewhat familiar with Belfort, from making “Dry Cleaning.” Epinal wasn’t far from there. I like the landscapes in that region, their kind of raw beauty. It adds something to the film.
Tell us how it was shooting the film.
For reasons linked to Isabelle’s schedule, I began with the scene at the Bouffes du Nord. The next day, I was in the Vosges Mountains with the kids who bully Marvin in middle school. In two days, I had gone from one extreme to the other: the stylized version and the brutality of action. That immediately gave me the film’s keynote – the right chord to strike.
It was your first time working with Yves Angelo.
I didn’t want naturalistic cinematography. On the contrary, I wanted the image to be very subtly stylized. It was fairly complicated to define. Like me, Yves likes to explore and try different things.
Did you give him any references?
I told him about the trilogy in black and white by Bill Douglas [“My Childhood,” “My Ain Folk,” and “My Way Home” — Ed.], which takes place in a community of Scottish miners and has an extremely pure vision of childhood. I saw a truth in it which inspired us enormously. We had to avoid the traps of satire and pessimism.
Yves is an extremely cultured individual. You can talk with him forever about meaning. We opted for a 1.6 crop factor, a format no longer in use, to make the framing tighter and bring in more characters. We did quite subtle work on the color and the grain, which differs depending upon whether we are in Marvin’s past or present. We also chose to use older lenses, which are more “vulnerable” than the ones currently used.
We are with the character all the time.
We stick with him at every age. The story is really told from his point of view. Even when he is not on screen, we need to feel that he is both the subject and, in a certain sense, the author of the film we are watching. That requires special filming methods, such as shooting
hand-held, but done with finesse so that it fuses with the character, the framing always slightly offset. You don’t see that it’s slightly off – the viewer has to feel it in his bones.
There is a lot of invention in the film. Those projections on Marvin’s bedroom wall when he is writing, for example.
Yves and I were looking for a way to represent the imaginary, and the act of creation, without necessarily using the text. We imagined projecting images of Marvin’s childhood on the wall of his small room – images from different generations, which we feel like we are seeing a bit backwards – by filming them live, as if he were physically in contact with his childhood. The result borders on special effects but blends well with the structure of the film, which is constantly playing with poetic allegory. It was a very exciting experiment for us to try out.
With such a sophisticated structure, were there any particular issues in the edit?
I had carried the film’s structure around inside me during the writing and the filming. I would have been devastated if we had needed to re-edit everything according to a classic dramatic structure at that point. But except for a few adjustments, we remained very faithful to the original plan.
From pop music to opera, there is a lot of music in the film, but none of it is original.
The music had to give the film energy, rhythm and movement. I wanted it to be modern and varied, and correspond to Marvin’s generation. It works like a sugar rush: we should never at any time feel like Marvin is going to get bogged down.
“Marvin” is truly an ode to art and culture.
That is what guided me throughout the film, from the choice of subject to its final form.
THE WATERMELON WOMAN is a self-coined – Dunyementary – a fusion of fiction and documentary style filmmaking. In THE WATERMELON WOMAN, Cheryl Dunye uses investigative documentary shooting on video intercut with a formal fiction comedy drama structure shot on film. Inserted within the narrative is archive footage constructed by Dunye.
THE WATERMELON WOMAN is edutainment. We laugh while being educated about the erasure of Black women in cinematic history in general, and also the invisibility of Black lesbian actresses in Hollywood history. As we watch the film we begin to question what is real and what is fiction? THE WATERMELON WOMAN is the Black actress Fae Richards who had disappeared, undocumented in the mist of time.
The title “THE WATERMELON WOMAN” is a play on the association between racist depictions of Black people eating watermelons, equivalent to the often racist caricatured images of Black women as the Mammy/Maid characters in Hollywood. The title is also an homage to Melvin Van Peebles’ 1970 film WATERMELON MAN. Melvin Van Peebles is credited with starting the Blaxploitation era of cinema which heralded a new vision of modern African American cinema.
As THE WATERMELON WOMAN begins we see video footage of a white Jewish wedding with Black guests. As Cheryl, who is a wedding videographer sets up the frame, a white male photographer comes and tells the contributors to move around to suit his frame while she is shooting. She is of course outraged and tells him to wait his turn. This first scene sets the tone for the ways in which Black women’s stories are denied, overwritten or erased in Hollywood.
Cheryl in the film decides to search for the real Fae Richards. As she does so she interviews various gatekeepers of culture, who are unapologetic in their ignorance about Fae Richards. Lee Edwards, the Black gay man, played by Brian Freeman (Pomo Afro Homos – 1990–1995) is uninterested in anything to do with history of women in cinema, the CLIT archivist played by Sarah Schulman hoards Black womens’ archival assets and denies Cheryl access to the material, the cultural critic Camille Paglia played by herself, who while explaining the impact of the Mammy role, denies there is a racist element to them, and even posits the roles as empowering because she insists on viewing them through her own Italian American experience.
The complicity of white women in power structures is further reinforced when we learn that Fae Richards was in a lesbian relationship with a white film director Martha Paige who cast her in the Mammy roles. Martha Paige did nothing to write and direct roles for Fae that were outside of the Mammy/Maid roles. She instead built her reputation as a film director off plantation type dramas. In fact it is often Martha Paige who is referenced in the history books and not Fae Richards. Martha Paige is played by Alex Juhasz, one of the producers of THE WATERMELON WOMAN. Cheryl’s relationship with Diana played by Guinevere Turner (Go Fish, L Word, American Psycho, Notorious Bettie Page, Charlie Says) falls apart when Cheryl has the dawning realisation about her liberal white racist values and her attempted appropriation of Cheryl’s project.
At the same time Cheryl interviews older Black lesbians who let her know how much they revered Fae Richards, even as Hollywood rejected her, and dumped her when she got older. She uncovers Fae Richards rich and joyous life as a Black lesbian who was survived by June, her lover of 20 years. June is played by the iconic poet and essayist – Cheryl Clarke.
THE WATERMELON WOMAN is a genius film which subverts dominant cinema with a Black lesbian feminist aesthetic through centring dark-skinned Black women as characters and actors. And by placing Black masculine of centre women of various ages as objects of desire and love interests. Cheryl Dunye casts herself, a black lesbian woman, as the central character, a Black lesbian filmmaker called Cheryl in order to obtain authenticity in the role, as well as intrinsically preventing any erasure of Black lesbian desire or bodies.
THE WATERMELON WOMAN is a love letter to cinema – African American cinema in Philadelphia in particular, we learn about those film companies that existed in the 1930s and see the cinemas where African Americans watched the silver screen. THE WATERMELON WOMAN while exploring the invisibility of Black lesbian women in cinema, also creates its own queer archive. There are references to other queer works of art, the documentary elements allow for the use of actual LGBT people, Dunye uses music of Black lesbians like Toshi Reagon and if you check the credits you will see interns like Kimberly Peirce (Boys Don’t Cry, The L Word, Carrie ).
THE WATERMELON WOMAN tells us to speak to our queer elders and hear their stories in order to document histories/herstories/theirstories so we so we know they were there.
We go behind the scenes of the incredible TEHRAN TABOO with writer / director with Ali Soozandeh
Pari, Elias and Sara in a Restaurant
What is the origin of the project? Is it adapted from any existing material?
TEHRAN TABOO is an original screenplay, not based on a novel. The idea came to me a few years ago when I overheard a conversation between two young Iranian men in the subway who were talking about their experiences with girls. They mentioned a prostitute who brought her child along on the job. This made me think about themes on sexuality in Iran. I began researching social media and I explored my own memories of dealing with such issues when I was in my teens and twenties, and the story developed from there.
Was it always your intention to make an animation film?
The initial goal was not about making a rotoscoping animation film, but animation is my main professional background. I have also worked as a camera operator, photographer, painter, storyboard and VFX artist. The most important thing for me was to make the story work. For this project, the problem with shooting a live-action film was the location. Tehran was not an option, for obvious reasons. I watched some films which used Morocco or Jordan in place of Iran but this was not very convincing. After many discussions and tests, we concluded that the rotoscoping technique would be the best way to go. I chose that technique because it allows us to feel the characters more realistically despite the animation.
Tell us about your relationship to Iran.
I was born in Iran and lived there until I was 25. I’m the only one in my family who now lives abroad. I was nine years old when the Islamic revolution came. I felt the impact when boys and girls were suddenly separated in school. This was the rest of many shattering experiences. At 25, I emigrated and I have been living in Germany since 1995. Of course I still love Iran and my people, who are among the best in the world when it comes to enduring hardships. Research and rejection within our society for the film has given me a very different image of Iran. I think I understand better the circumstances, how complex the society is and why there is no simple answer. My relationship to Iran is much closer since making the film.
Babak smokes weed
Tell us about the taboos referred to in the movie’s title.
By making this film, I wanted to break the silence that is common practice in Iran. I would say breaking taboos is a way to protest against the restrictions. In Iran, legal prohibitions and moral restrictions are the forces that shape everyday life. When sexuality is regimented strongly, people can become very industrious at working around the many taboos. Iranians are a creative people and learn quickly how to handle the prohibitions and work around the restrictions. We find places free from rules. To compensate for forced public fronts, private life can go out of bounds in regards to sex, alcohol, drugs. The lack of freedom can push people into living with double standards. TEHRAN TABOO focuses on these double standards used to circumvent sexuality in Iran. This creates many social complications, which occasionally manifest themselves in absurd situations, often comic.
Explain the atmosphere of secrecy and paranoia that is often experienced in the film.
In the middle class district where TEHRAN TABOO is set, restrictions come from people’s mindsets as much as the actual laws. Family honour is much more important in Iran than in Europe. Iran has a society where social contacts are very important and play a big role in achieving success. An individual and his or her whole family can lose their honour for an extramarital relationship, of which the slightest is forbidden by law. But being sent to prison and paying the fine are not nearly as detrimental as the police releasing such information to the public. This means all your relatives, all your neighbours find out about your crime. For you and your family, it means complete loss of honour.
The women are crucial to the storyline in your film, what is the that women play in Iranian society.
The images Westerners have about Iran are always very distorted and full of clichés. They are characterized by stereotypes ranging from the exoticism of «1001 Nights» to the nuclear dispute to the fierce Islamic regime. But the reality seen on Tehran streets is much more diverse. Women in Iran are often more educated than men and have a more visible role in daily life than in many other Islamic countries, such as Saudi Arabia. But there is no one modern Iranian woman. There are many types, from religious fundamentalists to Western feminists. Of course, the latter have no means to express themselves in public. I was especially interested in the role that women play and must play in Iranian society’s game of virtues. They are the ones who suffer most. At the same time, women are expected to impose the rules and taboos that restrict their liberty onto the next generation.
Wat about your characters’ spirit and the tone they give to the film.
I believe people and their dreams are similar everywhere in the world. Only the circumstances are different. Any audience anywhere could probably identify with these characters. They all suffer in one way or another from the taboos of sexual relationships and the restrictions of Iranian society. They are victims, but also offenders at the same time. No one in the film is absolutely good or bad. A character can seem very offensive by his actions, but we can better understand his behaviour when we discover the backstory.
The film adopts in large parts the perspective of a small boy. Not wanting to make an overly dark film, I preferred to adopt the optimistic, hopeful and colourful perspective that children usually have on life. This and careful storyboarding enhance the tone and look of a graphic novel or comic book given by the rotoscoping technique.
What was the technical process involved in the making of your film.
Upon finishing the storyboards and casting, we started shooting in green screen with the actors. During this stage, the work is with a normal film crew and camera in studio. The first step in the animation stage is pre-visualisation. We couldn’t go to the edit stage with only green screen footage. We needed to create placeholders for backgrounds. After the editing was done, we started the animation process. We created the final backgrounds (which are a combination of 3D-elements and drawn images) and the drawn characters separately. Finally, we combined all of the elements in the compositing stage, combining all the elements to provide the final image. It took 13 months just to shoot and complete the animation process, and more than 40 artists were involved.
Will you continue in the field of animation or do you see yourself working on live-action films?
I feel safe in the animation world, but I can imagine working on live-action films too. It depends strongly on the story. If live-action would be the better way to tell a story, I would not necessarily make an animated film.
In the second part of our interview writer/director Jonas Carpignano talks about working with Scorsese, his young lead Pio Amato and the perils of shooting in The Ciambra.
A Ciambra clearly delineates the various tribes in Rosarno – the Italians, Romani and Africans – and shows how only Pio can move freely between them, which makes Pio’s relationship with Ayiva one of the hopeful elements in the film.
I fundamentally believe that besides the coercive political, economic and national structures, exposure to “foreign elements,” whether they be people, food, or music is the only way to dissolve the artificial boundaries between us. To me, Pio can move freely through the complex layers of his world because none of them are truly foreign to him. He has grown up in a Calabria that has now Africans, Bulgarians, Romanians, and so on. For him they are part of the social fabric of his world. That was not the case for the previous generation.
The same is true for Marta in Mediterranea. She doesn’t see Ayiva as an invader. For her, Ayiva is a worker like so many others. She didn’t know what Calabria was like before the arrival of the Africans. Both Pio and Marta see Ayiva as Ayiva. And while both films are realistic about the limits of this relationship, I think they both depict a path forward towards a more “integrated” Calabria.
Pio’s grandfather represents a way of life that has disappeared. There is a wonderful moment in the film in which Pio has a vision of his grandfather, what was the inspiration for this?
History has a certain weight. We like to contextualize ourselves and to feel that we are part of something larger than ourselves, that we have roots and that we are the continuation of something that has come before us. This is true, to varying degrees, for all of us, but it is especially relevant in the Ciambra. Yet, if you really think about it, our connection with the past is more abstract that we would like to think. I mean, we cannot physically occupy the past, we can never experience it for ourselves. The past is something that is constantly reimagined, often to justify who we are or who we would like to be.
How did producer Martin Scorsese get involved?
RT Features and Sikelia have created a fund to support first and second films. The producers at RT saw Mediterranea, they liked it, and they brought it to Martin and his producing partner Emma Tillinger Koskoff, who were immediately supportive and enthusiastic about the project.
The nature of making films in Gioia Tauro is such that everything outside feels very, very abstract compared to what is happening on the ground. I spent the last year knowing that Martin Scorsese was a producer of the film but it didn’t really sink in until we got to the editing process. I was lucky to have his notes on several versions of the cut, and his thoughts surely made an impact on the film. On a larger level, not only his work is massively influential, but his approach to and respect for the medium is what I particularly value.
What was the process for creating the look of the film? What were some of the challenges in filming where you did?
While the building blocks were similar to the process for Mediterrana (and the shorts), the overall picture was very different and that came from the different perspective that the film inhabits. I always believe the film itself should feel like the main character. In that vein, Mediterranea feels very fragmented and closed in. The visual grammar is designed to mirror Ayiva’s perspective: he only has a fractured understanding of his surroundings and therefore the film only presents a fractured portrait of the place. In A Chjana, Pio’s grasp of his surroundings is more assured and, even though we used the same type of camera moves and editing style, the perspective is much larger, more comprehensive.
Shooting in the Ciambra was the challenge. It’s impossible to fully articulate what the Ciambra is like, but from the film I think you get an idea. It is a wild and unruly place where anything that can happen will happen, often ten or fifteen times over. Luckily we knew this before going in, so we gave ourself time. We ended up shooting for 91 days.
Can you talk about the music? As always the score and the pop songs are on.
I love pop music. I got this question a lot while I was on the road with Mediterranea, and I’ll say now what I said then: pop music is the common denominator. No matter what language you speak, no matter where you are from, when the beat drops on a song that everyone knows, everyone is suddenly on the same wavelength. Everyone is moving to the same rhythm and I find that to be a major icebreaker when venturing into less familiar territories.
The film ends with a boy becoming a man, but not without a cost. Do you consider it an optimistic ending?
Optimistic? In my own life I tend to be a very optimistic person, but I try not to think about my films in terms of optimism or pessimism. In the end the goal is to give the viewer my take on what life is like where I live, and to leave them to decide for themselves how they feel about it. While my films are not “objective,” they don’t have a specific agenda, they are not a rallying cry for any specific cause. They are primarily designed to be character explorations. They are about characters who find themselves in conflicting and contradictory situations, who must try to cope with those situations as best as they can.
While this film touches on race relations, poverty, stereotyping, crime, etc., it is ultimately about Pio, about who he is and who I see him becoming. In life, I am optimistic about Pio. I love him very, very much and I appreciate who he is now and who he will become. At the same time I realise that every place imposes certain structures that are often hard to shed when you live within them.
I think that if confronted with the choice he has to make in regard to Ayiva, Pio would do exactly what he did in the film. What happens is obviously very, very sad, but in the end I don’t think that the viewer will dislike him. Good people do bad things, and when our backs are against the wall we usually resort to tribalism and embrace the burden of identity, which is frequently the easy way out. People in the Ciambra have done all kinds of things that are viewed and judged as “bad,” but they are not bad people and I think this film is a testament to that.
So just like with the end of Mediterranea there are those who will view this ending optimistically and those who will view it pessimistically. In the end I think it’s important that, while Pio does what he does, we see how hard it is for him. It takes a toll on him, and ultimately if there is a path to some form of solidarity between the Africans and the Gypsies it will be through someone like Pio. You can be pessimistic about the social architecture imposed on Pio or you can be optimistic about seeing how he feels at home, and made to feel at home, in the African community. Nobody is perfect, and I am personally relieved to know that Pio Amato is out and about, doing his thing.
Find the first part of this interview on how Jonas met the Amato family on the Peccadillo Blog
A reunion with your ex-lover can be an emotional experience. An odd mix of contradictions. Intimacy and detachment. Awkwardness and familiarity. These casual meetings can have a tremendous impact on our lives. Especially if one still has feelings for the other. Something most of us can relate to. Therefore, it was very important to me that ‘Buddy’ would feel genuine and true.
In my quest to give the short film a sense of realism and believability I gave my actors tremendous freedom to move and improvise. In collaboration with my director of photography we created a shooting style that enabled our actors to move and act freely. The film was shot on location at a real STI clinic.
‘Buddy’ is based on an autobiographical event. What fascinated me about the story, is the inability of the main characters to communicate, despite sitting directly next to each other. The location of this reunion is the waiting room of an STI clinic. Probably one of the most uncomfortable places to be sitting with your ex. Surrounded by nervous pacers bracing for bad news. An atmosphere of tension and tediousness.
Seeing his ex boyfriend in such a vulnerable position, our main character cannot deny his feelings anymore. By being part of this very intimate moment, he feels there might still be hope for the two of them getting back together. There is something beautiful about losing the reality of the situation in favor of the possibility of love. Most of us have been there, I think.
‘Buddy’ is about accepting the truth, no matter how hurtful it may be. And about letting go the one you love.
Niels Bourgonje Director
Boys on Film 18: Heroes is released on 30/04/2018 and you can order your copy here
I GOT LIFE! writer/director Blandine Lenoir talks film-making, female solidarity and real women:
Tell us how this film came to be?
As it often happens, the subject arose from personal experience. I was extremely anxious about turning forty, and didn’t understand why I was so afraid to grow old whilst my male friends didn’t share this concern at all. I quickly realized that women in their fifties weren’t represented in cinema, how can you possibly feel like reaching an age that tends to be invisible? I saw many women around me ending up in a terrible loveless solitude; incredible, beautiful and talented women whose exes had been able to make new lives for themselves. I wanted to pay homage to these women, give them – and myself – the desire to grow old. Aurora also a way of healing my own anxieties.
The heroine Aurore accumulates difficulties: she lives alone, is in a precarious financial situation and is going through the menopause…
But she also takes her life in her own hands. She is a strong character who, when confronted with discrimination, discovers solidarity with the women around her, which makes her realise that anything is still possible. As always, I wanted to tell this story with humour, trying to laugh about things that aren’t really funny – there’s so much there to say.
From the very first frames you tackle menopause head on, it stars with Aurore having a conversation with Lucy, her youngest daughter.
I like tackling taboo subjects. The bond between generations, which I already broached in Zouzou, my first feature film, is very important to me. It’s important to remember the way our mothers and grandmothers were raised. Many things have changed, of course, women vote, work, use contraception, but the same glaring inequalities still prevail today, and there is even a sense of backlash in certain instances.
Aurore is really in a period of personal deconstruction/reconstruction. She loves without knowing if it’s requited, her youngest daughter leaves home…
The period she’s going through reminds me of a sort of counterpart to adolescence. She discovers a newfound freedom to which she isn’t accustomed and which manifests itself at first as a feeling of loss. Movies often show parents relieved to see their adult children finally leave home, but what I see around me is much more often friends who are upset over their children leaving home. Before feeling once again that they have time for themselves and new things to pursue, these women have to face a very deli- cate transition.
Aurore is also given a very rough time professionally: there’s that new boss who has chosen a nickname for her against her will, how can you show humiliation at work in just a few scenes?
Stripping someone of their identity seemed to me the worst thing you could force someone to be subjected to. If you have even the slightest bit of dignity or self-esteem, it’s unbearable. Workplace suffering is a terrible reality, but Aurore is a fighter, she is never a victim.
Skits that are very powerful, for example when Aurore is a ‘cleaning operative,’ and has a conversation with a colleague who brings up discrimination.
It wasn’t an easy part of the script to perform. For this scene to exist, the character had to immediately be whole and present. I called upon a non-professional actor– a Tunisian beautician who had told me once that she dreamed of being in a film. She’s a very sharp woman with a strong accent. I knew that she could easily embody the character and deliver this text.
We can sense an unbelievable solidarity between all the women in the film.
I have great faith in feminine solidarity: A solidarity that carries me throughout all of life’s stages without fail. In my mind it was of the utmost importance that every age be represented in the film.
When referring to stages of life, you integrate excerpts from an interview with the feminist anthropologist and ethnologist Françoise Hériter who explains that not too long ago, when a woman was going through the menopause, her life was considered over.
Just as I had quoted Christine Delphy [French feminist and sociologist] in Zouzou, I absolutely wanted to pay homage to Françoise Héritier in Aurora. This was made possible thanks to footage that Patric Jean agreed to give me, excerpts from his DVD, conversations with Françoise Héritier. Like Thérèse Clerc, Maya Surduts, and Benoîte Groult, all recently deceased, these women belong to a generation which contributed enormously to the advancement of political thought and feminism.
Did you immediately have Agnès Jaoui in mind for the role of Aurore?
I wanted an actress whose face had been familiar to the public for a long time and I also wanted and actress who was comfortable with her age and enjoyed all the advantages that it implies. Whilst being more mature, Agnès is extremely feminine and attractive. It was important for my heroine not to resemble an eternal adolescent. Agnès immediately took a liking to the Aurore character – she agreed within two days.
I GOT LIFE! is in cinemas from 23rd March. Find out more and get your tickets here.
