Chinese Winner at DocLisboa

Wang Bing got one more prize added to his impressive filmography through the ”Grande Prémio Cidade de Lisboa”, the first prize at the DocLisboa that ended sunday. The film in question is ”Three Sisters” (153 mins., France Hong Kong, 2012). Description taken from the site of the festival:

“Three sisters live alone in a small village family house in the high mountains of the Yunan region. They spend their days working in the fields or wandering in the village. The father returns to the village. He has come to take the girls with him to the city but he then agrees to leave the older one under the supervision of her grandfather.”

Special Jury Prize was given to “The Anabasis of May and Fusako Shigenobu, Masao Adachi and 27 years without Images” (66 mins., France, 2011) with a special mention to the film that wins wherever it goes, “Sofia’s Last Ambulance” (75 mins., Bulgaria, Croatia, Germany) by Ilian Metev from Bulgaria.

The two last mentioned are to be watched at DOK Leipzig this week, “Sofia’s Last Ambulance” competes in the International Competition category. One more award… for this excellent piece of cinema?

http://www.doclisboa.org/2012/pt/edicao/premiados/

www.dok-leipzig.de

DOK Leipzig Opening Night

Opening nights can be very long with speeches and introduction of juries and honorary guests. DOK Leipzig is no exception. It took looong time to get people seated so the ceremony was delayed up front, and it did not help that the master of ceremony, head of programming at the festival, Grit Lemche, not the most obvious choice for that job, improvised to make a warm atmosphere, fine enough but to much internal small talk, that took time.

Before the film from Bangla Desh, see below, Claas Danielsen (photo), festival director, made his welcoming and film political speech, where he championed filmmakers and criticized current production and working conditions. “In many areas of the film industry, there is an imbalance of power that has the potential to push entire groups within the profession to the edge of economic survival,” Danielsen said. Films often develop under exploitative conditions for writers and in conjunction with an enormous financial and personal risk for producers. The festival director criticized broadcasters, but also spoke in hopeful terms: “I envision a partnership-based approach that finally establishes a fair playing field for the work of creatives in all genres. We need filmmakers and writers who can make a living from their work.” Danielsen also appealed to politicians: “We need real copyright protection for creative professionals – and politicians who will do all they can to protect their achievements.”

At the opening festivities, the Danish film THE WILL by Christian Sonderby Jepsen was given the 2012 Doc Alliance Award. The prize is worth 5,000 euros and is handed out alternately at the six European film festivals that have formed the Doc Alliance.

Good for the Leipzig audience that they can watch a Danish documentary – otherwise idfa has taken priority to screen new Danish documentaries, 9 this year (!), which leaves out DOK Leipzig. Schade.

www.dok-leipzig.de

DOK Leipzig Opens Monday Night

As a festival guest and reporter for this blog you receive loads of mails about what is to happen. Of course. The Leipzig festival sustains a good tradition for press releases that  – unlike others – refrain from saying ”we are the best in the world” but limits itself to convey information letting the enthusiasm come out in the film descriptions that are authored by members of the selection committee. Good idea but also ”dangerous” as you might run into texts that include an interpretation of what you are to watch. But that is another story. Here follows an edited version of the press release  that introduces the festival:

The 55th International Leipzig Festival for Documentary and Animated Film will opens Monday in the Leipzig CineStar theater complex… A keynote speech will be delivered by festival director Claas Danielsen. DOK Leipzig will open with the animated film DEMONI by Theodore Ushev and the documentary film ARE YOU LISTENING! (photo) by Kamar Ahmad Simon, the first film from Bangladesh to be shown in the International Competition at DOK Leipzig. Grit Lemke, head of the documentary programme at DOK Leipzig, will preside over the evening.

By Sunday, 360 films from 62 countries will have been screened at DOK Leipzig. The official programme includes 84 documentaries and 114 short animated films. About 200 filmmakers will be present in Leipzig, as will numerous protagonists from the various films. Alongside the 264 film screenings, DOK Leipzig will be offering a variety of master classes, workshops, case studies, roundtables and panel discussions on issues facing the industry today. The 1,400 accredited industry guests this year are evidence that DOK Leipzig has become one of the main gatherings of the documentary industry.

This year, the 5,000 euro Doc Alliance Award will be presented in Leipzig during the opening festivities. The most important prizes at DOK Leipzig are the Golden and Silver Doves and the Talent Dove of the Media Foundation of Sparkasse Leipzig, which will be awarded on the festival Saturday in Leipzig’s Central Theater. A record 79,000 euros of prize money will be awarded at this year’s festival.

www.dok-leipzig.de

Mira Jargil: Turn out the Light

They kiss and embrace. I watch through the window, out in the yard. It’s a ritual. Indeed, it’s love, the terminal behaviour of a marriage in an erotics of thrift. They undress. The camera tracks him. He brushes his teeth. They meet in bed, say goodnight. Loving to polite. The last night. The old place.

 

TURN OUT THE LIGHT – and how little it takes to make a film

(translation: Glen Garner)

Everything is very matter of fact. The first shot is of a king-sized bed (I later understand it’s the conjugal bed) with two comforters, two pillows. Everything is very neat and clean and airedout.The shot makes that clear. Then we see him. He is of the older generation, the kind that used to alwayswear patterned “Icelandic” sweaters. He still does. He’s wearing one now. That’s no coincidence. Nothing is. He’s busy packing a box, and I understand. He writes a label with a marker and sticks it on: “Ruth’s sewing kit”. I sense his compassion beneath his irritability, which is palpable already in the second shot. He pants with the effort, the first sound in the film.

She sighs with a different kind of effort. This is a bit later. They are both making an effort, in different ways. As they are different. His resigned planning and her confused surrender come together already in this first sound. She stands in the backlight from the adjoining room.

The first dialogue consists of three sentences that peter out without completing any statement. The sentences are unrelated anyway. I sense that from their tone of voice.

He’s lying on the sofa, clearly a familiar position. He makes plans, economising his strength. She ploughs on. Cannot, dares not, let go of physical action. She keeps voicing her non-stop worrying. What about the wall clock? There’s no room. There’s less wall space in the new place.

I get the situation. I now know what I suspected, what the upheaval involves. A move from big to small, from a full life to a scaled-down existence, from joy to resignation. What could have been a new beginning is really an end. “This is the last meal in Traneholmen”, he says over dinner, with true gallows humour. An age, no, life itself, this moment, is over. In the address, in the name of a place, lies an entire culture, as is confirmed to me by the architecture that stands out more clearly as the rooms are stripped down – Sachlichkeit, half a century old, keeping sentimentality at bay.

They have no energy left over to make this last meal special. He has beer with his food. She drinks milk. For dessert, oranges that are dry from sitting around too long. “It’s better than nothing,” a crucial sentence goes. People get thrifty. The film, itself very thrifty, shows what thrift looks like.

They kiss and embrace. I watch through the window, out in the yard. It’s a ritual. Indeed, it’s love, the terminal behaviour of a marriage in an erotics of thrift. They undress. The camera tracks him. He brushes his teeth. They meet in bed, say goodnight. Loving to polite. The last night. The old place.

NEXT MORNING

Daylight sets up the endgame. The sheets are going into black trash bags. Now the bed is empty. I see the mattresses. They are neat and clean. Everything is orderly. They sit at the breakfast table, same places, same camera angle as at dinner. She worries about the movers again, a recurring worry. Whether to feed them, offer them beer, coffee. He cuts off her housewife’s routine, adamantly intervening this time. He protects her.

The movers are busy. She sits in the nearly empty living room. Silence. The bed has been dismantled. He stands in the nearly empty living room. Together they stand in the nearly empty living room. Silence.

TERMINATION

Mira Jargil’s film portrays these final 24 hours in eight minutes. A short sequence of minimal scenes, each scene with minimal content. Or so it appears. A series of existential dramas is set in motion and followed through. In parallel. A drama of external events: packing, eating, sleeping, eating, moving, saying goodbye. Two dramas of inner experiences and deliberations, which I know the film is projecting into the characters. His: great weariness. The realities and undeniableness of old age meet economizing and planning and careful routine, both in actions and emotions. Resignation is his outline. Hers: effervescent confusion in practical situations, as her mind repeatedly, absentmindedly, turns to the world outside, and a subsequent lack of attention to their life situation.

Together, these two unlike characters live through their shared drama, she worrying about everything around them, he worrying about her. So many existential things at work, so little equipment – scenographically, cinematically, textually, musically. Mira Jargil’s filmis a study in how little it takes.The film is a choreography of termination, and describes the inevitable conclusion to which drama and life itself lead – dynamically, though at a declining pace, even hesitantly.

Mira Jargil: Det sidste døgn (Turn Out the Light), DK 2005, 8 mins. Mira Jargil is director of the month in FILMKLUB FOF, Randers. Turn Out the Light was her first film.

Born 1981. Mira Jargil graduated from the National Film School of Denmark this year, 2011, with the documentary ‘The Time We Have’ about her grandparents Ruth and Arne who where married for 67 years. Now Ruth is dying, and Arne must depart with the love of his life. Her debut ‘Turn Out the Light’ from 2005 was selected at several film festivals including IDFA Silverwolf competition. In 2007 she finalized her second film ‘Going for Goal – The Homeless Worldcup’ about a different kind of street soccer, triumphs and disappointments, shatered hopes and living dreams. In 2010 she made a film in Beirut ‘Grace’ about a female taxi driver who drives her pink taxi at night and sleeps during the day. She dreams about an ordinary life with husband and children, but her pink taxi must only pick up women. (From cphdox.dk/doxlab)

Mira Jargil, samlede blogindlæg om hendes film

Hun er den, som i sine film hele tiden er til stede, stiller sig med kameraet det rigtige sted. Filmer de sarteste, de mest sjældne øjeblikke…

 

 

DET SIDSTE DØGN (8 min, 2005)

Det er meget nøgternt, det her. På det første billede dobbeltsengen (som jeg senere vil forstå er ægtesengen) med to dyner, to puder. Det er pænt og rent og luftet. Det ses også af billedet. Så er han i billedet: Han er af den ældre generation og fra den gruppe, der brugte islandske sweatre. Han bruger sådan en trøje stadigvæk, han har den på i scenen nu. Det er ikke tilfældigt. Ingenting er tilfældigt. Han er i gang med en flyttekasse, og jeg forstår. Han skriver mærkesedler med tuschpen, klæber dem på: ”Ruths sygrej”. Jeg fornemmer, han er omsorgsfuld bag irritabiliteten. Som også er der, mærker jeg helt bestemt allerede i andet billede. Han puster af anstrengelse, det er filmens første lyd.

Hun sukker af en anden slags anstrengelse. Det er lidt senere. De er i anstrengelse de to, men forskelligt. Og de er forskellige. Hans resignerede overblik møder allerede her i den første lyd hendes konfuse given op.

Hun står i modlyset fra det andet rum. Den første dialog består af tre sætninger, som alle påbegyndes uden at fuldendes som udsagn. Og de har heller ikke med hinanden at gøre. Mærker jeg af tonefaldet.

Han ligger på sofaen. Det er han tydeligt vant til. Han planlægger og økonomiserer med kræfterne. Hun klør på. Kan ikke, tør ikke slippe den fysiske handling. Den stadige bekymring presser sig ustandseligt ind, hvad med væguret? Der er ikke plads, der er ikke så meget vægplads. Det nye sted. Og jeg forstår situationen. Ved nu, hvad jeg anede, hvad der er opbruddets indhold. Det er fra større til mindre, det er fra livsfylde til livsudtynding, det er fra glæde til resignation. Hvad, der kunne være ny begyndelse, er afslutning.

”Det er det sidste måltid i Traneholmen”, siger han med ægte galgenhumor. Da de sidder og spiser aftensmad. Og en periode, nej, livet selv, dette øjeblik, er forbi. For i adressen, i stedets navn hører jeg hele kulturen, som jeg får bekræftet af arkitekturen, som bliver tydeligere efterhånden som rummene klædes af. Denne et halvt århundrede gamle saglighed. Som holder sentimentaliteten stangen.

De har ikke haft overskud til at gøre noget særligt ud af dette sidste måltid. Han drikker øl til maden, hun mælk. Desserten er appelsiner, som har ligget lidt for længe, som er blevet tørre. ”Det er jo bedre end ingenting” lyder den afgørende sætning. Man bliver nøjsom. Filmen viser – selv yderst nøjsom – hvordan den ser ud. Nøjsomheden.

Hun og han kysser hinanden i en omfavnelse. Jeg ser det gennem vinduet, ude fra haven. Det er et ritual, jo, det er kærlighed, det er ægteskabets terminaladfærd i en nøjsomhedens erotik.

De klæder sig af, kameraet følger ham. Han børster tænder. De mødes i sengen, siger godnat. Kærligt til det høflige. Denne sidste nat, dette sidste døgn. Dette gamle sted.

NÆSTE MORGEN

Dagslyset etablerer slutspillet. Sengetøjet skal ned i sorte plasticposer. Nu er sengen tom. Jeg ser madrasserne. De er pæne og rene. Alt her er ordentligt. De sidder ved morgenmaden, samme placering, samme kameraposition som under aftensmåltidet. Men dette er ikke noget måltid, synes han, gav han udtryk for aftenen før. Hun bekymrer sig igen om flyttefolkene, det har været en tilbagevendende bekymring. Om de skal have mad, have øl, have kaffe. Han afværger hendes husmoderrutine. Denne gang energisk i sin indgriben. Han beskytter hende. Flyttefolkene er i gang. Hun sidder i den næsten tomme stue. Tavshed. Sengen er nu skilt ad. Han står i den næsten tomme stue. De står sammen i den næsten tomme stue. Tavshed.

AFSLUTNING

Mira Jargils film skildrer dette sidste døgn på otte minutter. I en kort række minimale scener, hver scene med minimalt indhold. Ser det ud til.

Men en række eksistentielle dramaer sættes i gang og føres igennem. Parallelt. Et drama af ydre begivenheder: pakke ned, spise, sove, spise, flytte, tage afsked. To dramaer af indre oplevelser og overvejelser, som jeg ved at se filmen projicerer i de medvirkende. Hans: en stor træthed, alderdommens realitet og uafviselighed mødes med økonomisering og planlægning og omhyggelig rutine med både handlinger og følelser. Resignationen er hans sammenfatning. Hendes: en boblende forvirring i de praktiske situationer med den gentagne glemsomhedsprægede omsorg for omverdenen medfører følgelig en uopmærksomhed over for livssituationen. Disse to modsatte karakterer gennemlever endvidere tilsammen deres fælles drama, hendes bekymring for alt omkring dem og hans bekymring for hende. Så meget eksistentielt på færde, så lidt udstyr scenografisk, fotografisk, tekstligt, musikalsk. Mira Jargils film er et studie i, hvor lidt man kan nøjes med.

Filmen er en afslutningens koreografi, en skildring af dette uafvendelige, som både dramaet og livet dynamisk, men i faldende takt – tøvende så at sige – peger hen mod. (Teksten har tidligere været trykt i ”FILM” nr. 47, november 2005 i engelsk version)

 

TALENTPRISEN 2011

Mira Jargil har i aften modtaget prisen Reelt Talent. Det skete under åbningsgalla arrangementet på CPH:DOX. I sin begrundelse lagde juryen vægt på ”instruktørens indlevelsesevne og fintfølende tone og så evnen til at skildre intense emotionelle situationer uden at virke anmassende og påtrængende.” Bag talentprisen, der i aften er uddelt for anden gang, står CPH:DOX og Danske Filminstruktører.

Mira Jargil har lavet tre film:

Det sidste døgn, 2005. ”Så meget eksistentielt på færde, så lidt udstyr scenografisk, fotografisk, tekstligt, musikalsk. Mira Jargils film er et studie i, hvor lidt man kan nøjes med. Filmen er en afslutningens koreografi, en skildring af dette uafvendelige, som både dramaet og livet dynamisk, men i faldende takt – tøvende så at sige – peger hen mod…” skrev jeg i DFI’s tidskrift FILM/47.

Mod målet, 2007. ”Undersøgelser viser, at 73 procent af deltagerne får et bedre liv efter at have deltaget i turneringen. Og det er netop, hvad Mira Jargils film med humor og poesi dokumenterer: Fodbold har en fantastisk socialiserende effekt…” skrev Claus Christensen på tidsskriftet Ekkos hjemmeside 23. juli 2007.

Den tid vi har, 2011. Filmen er ”med sin tyste tilstedeværelse i det intime det mest rørende og sikre værk blandt afgangsfilmene…” skrev Katrine Hornstrup Yde i Information 13. juni 2011 (Blogindlæg 01-11-2011 Allan Berg Nielsen)

 

DEN TID VI HAR (25 min, 2011)

 

DRØMMEN OM EN FAMILIE (2013)

Billedet forestiller en familievejleder, som har måttet give op. Men nej, han skulle ikke have ladet være at forsøge at lægge sig imellem de to, ladet være at blande sig. Tvivlen, man kunne have, er for længst fjernet omkring den tvivlende. For ja, vi skal ikke kun interessere os for, men også som samfund, som socialinstitution og som kunstinstitution, som familievejleder og som filminstruktør skildre, fortolke, gribe ind i og omforme hinandens liv. Vore tankeliv, private liv, familieliv, sociale liv er ikke vore egne. Vore liv udsættes som en del af den sociale kontrol og accept for institutionernes manipulation. Når det er kommet hertil, hvad det ser ud til, det er, er det temmelig godt, at der findes psykologer som den kompetente kommunale familievejleder, den mest interessante medvirkende i Mira Jargils film og filmfolk som Mira Jargil selv, som sikrere end nogen har skildret samlivets fineste nuancer.

Lad mig tage ham først. Hans projekt er kolossalt, det er afgørende vigtigt, det udvikler sig kompliceret dramatisk, og han er jo i dramaet katalysatoren, den omvendte Jago, den gode, omsorgsfulde rådgiver. Imidlertid får han ikke den fortolkende plads i Jargils projekt, som filmen fortjener. Derfor mister den tilsyneladende i første omgang den intellektuelle højde, som kunne kompensere det fortvivlende følelsesbillede og den stereotype omverdensforståelse, som de andre medvirkendes replikker af talemåders begrænsede variation producerer.

Lad mig så prøve at skrive lidt om Mira Jargil. Hun er den, som i sine film hele tiden er til stede, stiller sig med kameraet det rigtige sted. Filmer de sarteste, de mest sjældne øjeblikke. Når hun kalder sin nye film ”Drømmen om en familie”, forlanger hun vist, at jeg deler den drøm, for filmen er jo ikke sådan, at den køligt konstaterer, at det er en drøm, en indbildning at kunne etablere familie uden fundament af egentlig indsigt og forståelse for hinanden. I stedet ser det ud til, at disse pseudoforståelser imellem forældrene i historien aldrig bevæger sig fra overfladens konventionelle, kliche-funderede beskrivelse af følelser. Og barnets latente originalitet i læsningen af forældrenes følelser og beskrivelser af sine egne får ikke den plads i dramaet, som ville sprænge rammerne for en tro på, at familien kan behandles, for dette ibsenske motiv er vist ikke en mulighed, ikke en fristelse for Mira Jargil. Hendes ambition er for mig foreløbig at se alene at flytte den sociale tv-dokumentar på de filmhåndværksmæssigt æstetiske områder, det observerende kamera elegant kombineret med terapeutisk hjemmevideo, karakterudvikling ved klipningen i det omfang det var muligt, smukt indforstået lyddesign og meget mere, som ingen vist kan sætte en finger på. Så det produktionsprojekt er for så vidt lykkedes. Men Jargils nye værk oplever jeg som et tilbageskridt fra den eksistensanalyse af vores fælles liv og død, som hendes tidligere film så usædvanligt rigt og klogt etablerede. Jargils nye film er således en udvidelse af hendes repertoire teknisk og administrativt og i filmlængde, en udvidelse som lykkes, men den sker vist nok på bekostning af udviklingen i den kunstneriske undersøgelse af det elskende menneske, som er at læse i det samlede værk til nu.

Ja, sådan tænkte jeg i aftes vel to tredjedele inde i den lange fortælling. Men så overraskede filmen mig. De barske begivenheder vender op og ned på forløbet. Faderen indlægges med blodprop og genoptrænes heldigt, men moderen vælger at forlade ham, for at flytte tilbage til den anden mand. Her griber psykologen og faderen til at gennemføre en smuk plan. De færdiggør den bog til barnet om det hele, som de længe har forberedt. Barnets møde med sin egen historie i den bog er filmens store sted. Den lille pige er forløst lykkelig og holder den tæt til kroppen. Læser i den, jeg hører enkelte sætninger og forstår, at denne litterære bearbejdning af det vanskeligt forståelige familieliv har helende virkning. Ikke ved sentimental bliven i en umulig drøm, men ved ærlig og præcis beskrivelse af, hvad der faktisk er sket i barnets fortid, hvad der sker nu og hvad der vil ske i fremtiden, denne klassiske kliniske model omsat til et lille stykke litteratur om drømmen, der måtte briste.

Danmark 2013, 85 min. (Blogindlæg 8. januar 2014)

 

ROBERT 2014

“Drømmen om en familie” er valgt som årets dokumentarfilm. Men hele Mira Jargils værk fortjener opmærksomhed. Nu bliver det spændende, om anerkendelsen får betydning for filmværkets udvikling, for den premierede film viser en helt ny retning i Jargils arbejde fra det eksistentielle til det sociale, fra det dybe til det brede, tror jeg. Det er et arbejde, som er værd at følge opmærksomt. (Blogindlæg 26. januar 2014)

 

TIL DØDEN OS SKILLER (2015)

Det dokumentariske still her er uden nåde ærligt, men bag det ligger i dets filmscene også medfølelsen, som Mira Jargils og Christian Sønderby Jepsens værk, deres tv-dokumentar ikke et øjeblik forlader men langsomt undersøger og folder ud over tre aftener på TV2. Det ved Anders Kristensen, manden på fotoet godt, det er han indforstået med, han lægger alle sine muligheder for sprogets præcision ind i sine replikker og livsbeskrivelser. Han ved også godt at han skal drikke med sugerør og mades med et viskestykke under hagen resten af sin tid, men det er han imidlertid ikke indforstået med, ikke endnu. Resignationen ligger og venter, men han er ikke nået til den, han vil ikke skilles. Det er hustruen imidlertid ved at være parat til. Hans flytning til plejehjemmet er nok næste gang eller næste igen ikke den midlertidige aflastning i et kort ophold, nej, det er en flytning for al tid, en adskillelse. En skilsmisse i virkeligheden.

Jargil og Sønderby Jepsen har to ledende medvirkende mere, en mand og en kvinde i samme situation. Denne mand, Vagn Nielsen er som Anders Kristensen tæt på opgivet af sin hustru, som ikke længere kan trænge igennem til hans lukkede tankeverden, ikke leve med hans svigtende hukommelse. En lang intens scene skildrer begivenheden hvor hans hånd på hans vegne nægter at skrive under på ansøgningen om en plejehjemsplads. Mildt beslutsomt skriver en datter under scenens stille, nervøse venten endelig under på hans vegne. Hans hånd har resigneret og han er skilt i virkeligheden.

Anna Bjørslev er alene i sit store hus, hendes mand er død for et år siden, hun sidder kraftesløs i sin stol, må have hjælp til alt. Flere gange gange om dagen. Døden har skilt hende fra hendes mand, hun er fri til at vente sin egen død, men er uden kræfterne ikke fri nok til selv at afgøre på hvilken måde. Hendes tre døtre tager blidt håndfast affære, overtaler hende og gennemfører først besigtigelsen af den tilbudte bolig derefter flytningen til plejehjemmet.

Instruktørerne kalder i deres synopser tv-serien entertaining og debatskabende. Sådan ser jeg den slet ikke, men måske nok som poignant som de også skriver, mest i betydningen smertefuld. Det gør bestemt ondt at se serien når den (ind imellem sit påpegende og tydeliggørende tv-pligtstof hvad der er meget af) fordyber sig i filmscenernes sarte og sjældne øjeblikke. Som når Anders Kristensen som på fotoet ser på mig med et intenst blik over brillerne, i episode 2 er på aflastning og i en kort, vemodig monolog beskriver døgnene på plejehjemmet:

Den uge jeg har været her den føles faktisk som to måneder. Der er tre værelser til dem der er herinde på aflastning og så resten her til fastboende demente. Der er en kvinde der åbner døren engang imellem. Hun gør som en hund. Hun tror hun er en hund. Der er en mand der åbner døren. Han har stråhat på og en dukke i hånden som han sidder og leger med… Du kan høre, hvad der sker… en der råber, en der skriger…

For mig har Mira Jargils og Christian Sønderby Jepsens rystende dokumentarserie frem for noget underholdende og debatskabende været et personligt alarmkald. Jeg må altså nu, i tide, ved mine sansers og lemmers fulde kraft tage det her i egen hånd, ikke vente på familiens umulige nåde, men selv og alene forberede mig på adskillelsens konsekvens, i tide selv forhandle med pårørende og sociale myndigheder, selv og alene beslutte detaljerne og få dem testamentarisk stadfæstet ved min egen hånds underskrift. Sådan må tv-serien blive et alarmkald for mange. (Blogindlæg 7. februar 2016) 

 

FILMOGRAFI

I NETTO har alle råd. Filmede en del af de dengang berømte dokumentariske reklamefilm for NETTO (sammen med sin far Jesper Jargil, som producerede) vist nok før 2007.

Det sidste døgn, 2005. Bedsteforældrene, Ruth og Arne flytter fra huset til den lille lejlighed.

Mod målet – VM for hjemløse, 2007. Sejre og skuffelser, knuste håb og levende drømme i en hjemløs fodboldspiller.

Grace, 2010. En kvindelig taxichauffør i Beirut, som kun kører med kvindelige passagerer i sin pink bil. Helst vil hun noget helt andet.

Den tid vi har, 2011. Ruth er døende og Arne må tage afsked med hende, med sit livs kærlighed.

This is My Family, 2012. To brødre i en polygam familie i Uganda har forskellige mødre og samme far. Brødrene holder tæt sammen, men deres mødre kan ikke udstå hinanden. (Et DOX:LAB samarbejde med instruktøren Fred Kigozi, Uganda)

Drømmen om en familie, 2013. En mand med mange og svære problemer arbejder heroisk på at genskabe sin lille splittede familie, få kæresten til at komme tilbage, få deres fjernede barn hjem. Men forhindringer dukker hele tiden op. Kan ses på Filmcentralen: http://filmcentralen.dk/alle/film/drommen-om-en-familie

Til døden os skiller (2015) ,sammen med Christian Sønderby Jepsen, tv-serie i tre episoder, 3×40 min. Om ikke at kunne klare sig selv mere, når sygdommen tager overhånd og flytning til plejehjem står for. TV2 sender de tre afsnit 20:00 den 11. 18. og 25. februar 2016. Kan efter 1. marts 2016 ses på Filmcentralen

The Syrian Revolution/18

Long time since filmkommentaren has written about Syria. We followed the news about filmmaker and festival organiser Orwa Nyrabia, who was set free, but everyone knows that lots of artists and non-artists are kept detained. The UN keeps sending diplomates to talks in Damascus and today at the beginning of the Eid al-Adha holidays. This morning this was posted on facebook:

No signs of truce from the regime’s side. Air raids are ongoing, shelling is reported in many areas around Syria, the Homs central prison is surrounded by armed troops to break its strike, the website of VDC (Violations Documenting Centre) is hacked.

And later also on Facebook: First verified killing in Homs prison, Lyad Beirakdar, a political prisoner, murdered by regime forces.

Later BBC had this headline, with clips on their site: Syrian activists have reported a series of clashes in violation of a ceasefire to mark a four-day Islamic holiday.

Still: The BBC’s James Reynolds: “Video posted online claims to show a suburb of Damascus under attack after the truce started.”

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-20091598

The World According to Lance

According to realscreen of yesterday CNN will air a 45-minute documentary on Lance Armstrong this Saturday (October 27) at 9 p.m. EST produced by ABC Australia, and “reported/directed” by Quentin McDermott, as it is phrased. The work on the film started 7 weeks ago when it was clear that Armstrong was to be banned and stripped his Tour de France titles.

“We worked at great speed to secure the agreement of key witnesses… In all we filmed in nine locations: Sydney, Australia; Dallas and Austin, Texas; Missoula, Montana; Detroit, Michigan; Montreal, Canada; Paris, France; London, and Hertfordshore in England, in a whirlwind round-the-world tour.”

Voila! Non-fiction at its quickiest, quality? Let’s watch what Hollywood Reporter calls “the doping doc”.

http://realscreen.com/2012/10/24/cnn-picks-up-armstrong-doc-to-air-saturday/?utm_source=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=cnn-picks-up-armstrong-doc-to-air-saturday

DOK Leipzig Highlights

As advisor for the festival (that starts on monday the 29th), when it comes to films from the Baltic countries I was happy this morning to see that the festival on their site put a focus on 9 films with two of them being from the region that I know and like much:

The Documentarian (photo) by Ivars Zviedris and Inese Klava from Latvia and Ub Lama by Egle Vertelyte from Lithuania. Here follows the description of the film from the site, signed by members of the festival’s selection committee:

The Documentarian: Dziga Vertov himself regarded “life caught in the act”, “life as it is” as the ultimate goal of the documentary. He and his kinoki used every means, even hidden cameras, and no one got mad because the cinematograph was a sensation people wanted to be part of. Almost 100 years later, the two young directors Ivars Zviedris and Inese Kļava take their camera to the moorlands of Kemeri near Riga to explore the life of a hillbilly named Inta. This rustic eccentric with the impressive voice may not own a TV set, but she knows the rules of mass media (including the nuances separating docu-soap and reality show) only too well, especially concerning her worth and rights with regard to the “paparazzi”. She takes command from the start, showering directors, cameramen and producers with curses whose violence makes ordinary mortals blush. Inta says things like “You’re shitting into my soul, you fucking bastard, with your damned camera!” and is not averse to taking up a metal stick to “smash Ivar’s head” or hand him to the “pederasts”. She won’t accept money, but those who “get rich on her poverty” ought to pay nonetheless. Later she’ll cry… while the film has long since become a tragicomic relationship movie, like a meta-commentary about the “documentarian’s” existence in the age of radical moral abandonment. (aka: authenticity).
– Barbara Wurm

UB Lama: A boy like many others of his age: Galaa (12) is a smart, pudgy little rascal who’s not overly fond of school. He prefers to hang out with his little brother (6), listen to hip hop music, watch wrestling on television or eat junk food and play at online dating. The latter is only a fantasy, though, for Galaa lives with his mother and little brother in a yurt settlement on the edge of Ulan Bator (without a computer, of course). For the family – his father died in an accident a few years ago – every new day is a balancing act of survival, for what they earn as ambulant petty traders on the market is barely enough to buy food. So enrolling the boy in a Buddhist monastery school is less a matter of vocation than of existential self-defence. It would be a relief for the family if he was accepted and Galaa himself would be offered a real future perspective. The boy soon realises that this thing would not be bad for him at all and acquires a taste for the whole ceremonial order of Buddhist monasticism with its drums, prayer mills, colourful clothes and bags. A charmingly light and fascinatingly profound documentary coming-of-age story deftly balanced between materialism and spiritualism and – last but not least –fuelled by a heart-rending sense of humour.
– Ralph Eue

http://www.dok-leipzig.de/festival/filmfinder

The Act of Killing – Interview with the Producer

Signe Byrge Sørensen is CEO and producer at Final Cut for Real, which is located in Copenhagen, Denmark. She has been a producer for 14 years…

This is how an extended interview with the producer of the opening film of cph:dox starts, done by EDN (European Documentary Network) and to be found in its full length on the website of the organisation.

And it is indeed very good reading. Not only because it gives the background to the collaboration between Signe Byrge Sørensen and the director of the film, Joshua Oppenheimer, but also, actually first of all, because it gives a fine story about how a young Danish prodcer made her way from politically engaged, social documentary production in the financially good climate for documentary funding in Denmark, to now stand behind a film about which the director of dph:dox Tine Fishcer says:

“The Act of Killing’ is like nothing else I have seen. It is radical in its political analysis and criticism, it is progressive in its combination of genres; gangster drama, glossy musical and surreal psychotic drama. And it sits with you in a way that is inescapable. It will become a film which will receive a prominent place in film history, and a film that everyone should see. Not only those with a particular interest in political documentary, but everyone who has the courage to face ‘the heart of darkness’. It never becomes black and white because even the most hardened executioner can be confronted with his own lies.”

“The Act of Killing” opens cph:dox in some days.

www.edn.dk

www.cphdox.dk

Klara Trencsenyi: Corvin Variations

I met Hungarian Klara Trencsenyi at the Astra Film Festival, where her newest work “Corvin Variations” was screened. Two years ago Trencsenyi organised a project development workshop for creative documentaries in Budapest that I took part in. Since then the political situation in Hungary, also called ORBANistan, has worsened drastically, which also has influenced the film funding climate that as in many other areas is said to be suffering heavily from corruption… Back to the film, here is the description taken from the festival catalogue:

“The so-called Corvin Project initiated in 2003 was the largest and most awarded Central European city development project. It envisioned the full transformation of cca. 22 acres in Budapest’s 8th district, which implied the demolition of all buildings in that area. Both the local government and the investor wanted to get rid of the “slums” by relocating more than one thousand families – among them many Roma people – who could not afford buying property in the old-new area. The protagonists of Corvin Variations are all local residents who have been relocated in the course of the project – and who recall, with nostalgia and criticism, the life in the old neighbourhood and community. They no longer see each other – they meet only in the reconstructed space created by the filmmakers…”

Out of this theme the director, who already showed her excellence in camerawork in her previous film ”Bird’s Way”, has created a light-toned stylistically playful documentary about memories that disappear as the houses are being demolished, about a neighbourhood where people helped each other, whereas now ”people are closed”, as one of the characters say in the film that is very much based on cleverly interviews and monologues with the inhabitants, who now, in general, live in the new flats they had to take when they were re-housed. Almost all Romas are out, as are most of the old people, as the flats are too expensive for them.

Hungary, 2011, 39 mins.