BFF FILM & FESTIVAL BLOG
The Power of Positive Media Representation for Trans Youth
Media has played a large role in reshaping public perception of the LGBTQ+ community, creating a more accurate and positive representation that lead to advancements in civil rights. As an anti-trans youth bill sweeps through state legislatures in 2021, progress must be made in the media to advance the representation of trans people.
It’s been 52 years since the Stonewall Uprising snatched the media’s attention and thrust the gay rights movement into the public eye, allowing millions of people to witness the injustices experienced by the LGBTQ+ community on a daily basis. Thanks to the diligent work of activists over the decades, depictions of gays and lesbians in the media became more positive, leading the culture to shift favorably towards gay rights — anti-discrimination laws have been passed to protect LGBTQ+ people, who can now serve openly in the military without punishment and whose right to marriage equality is now federally protected under the law. Considering the progressive strides made in recent years, it’s all too easy to accept the status quo, to forget how society became as accepting of the LGBTQ+ community as it is today, and to ignore the continued legislative backlash currently targeting transgender youth. Without persistent awareness and continued activism, however, progress will halt or even reverse course.
Before the gay rights movement making its foothold in pop culture, the public perception of the gay lifestyle was widely one of fear and ignorance. If homosexuality was mentioned in the media at all it was painted as sick or perverted, a deviant way of life led by villainous criminals or the pitifully weak, both deserving of terrible fates. Think of the cross-dressing serial killer in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) or The Children’s Hour (1961), a story centered around two school teachers who are accused of lesbianism that ends with one of them committing suicide because she is so appalled by her homosexual longings. These damaging stereotypes persisted throughout most of film and media until GLAAD (Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) was formed by a group of journalists and writers in 1985. GLAAD started as a response to defamatory news coverage of the HIV/AIDS crisis that disproportionately affected the gay community. What began as a protest outside of The New York Post’s office building grew into a national effort to reshape the media’s derogatory narrative on homosexuality.
Shirley MacLaine and Audrey Hepburn in The Children’s Hour (1961) - ALAMY
By 1990, as GLAAD grew in size and influence, the organization began hosting its own media awards ceremony honoring fair and inclusive representations of LBGTQ+ issues. They launched several successful ad campaigns casting gay people in a better light and convinced industry giants to change editorial policy to use more appropriate and respectful terms in their media coverage. GLAAD was becoming a media watchdog that fought defamation while simultaneously advocating for visibility. From the late 1990s through the 2000s, shows like Ellen, Will & Grace, and Modern Family— accompanied by other popular programs that prominently featured dynamic gay characters— helped normalize same-sex couples in the mind of the average American viewer who otherwise didn’t know any “out” LGBTQ+ people. Human beings are typically compelled by good storytelling and are more likely to show compassion towards gay issues if they feel a bond with a gay person, or even a gay character. A 2017 study at Pepperdine University “Changing Media and Changing Minds: Media Exposure and Viewer Attitudes Towards Homosexuality” found that, “people with more exposure to media with more positive representations of homosexual people and the issue of homosexuality will have higher acceptability for the issue and willingness to learn more about the issue.”
In today’s world, with wireless internet and countless media sources, the LGBTQ+ community is more positively viewed by the public than ever before, and yet transgendered people, particularly black trans women, are murdered at disproportionately higher rates. The Human Rights Campaign (HRC) reports, “Sadly, 2020 has already seen at least 44 transgender or gender non-conforming people fatally shot or killed by other violent means, the majority of which were Black and Latinx transgender women. We say at least because too often these stories go unreported -- or misreported.” Alongside increased violence against trans people, HRC published an article on anti-LGBTQ bills currently sweeping through local and state legislature entitled, “2021 Officially Becomes Worst Year in Recent History for LGBTQ State Legislative Attacks as Unprecedented Number of States Enact Record-Shattering Number of Anti-LGBTQ Measures Into Law.” Most of the proposed bills target trans youth, aiming to restrict their ability to participate in sports or receive gender-affirming health care. In April of 2021, Arkansas passed HB1570, making it illegal for healthcare practitioners to provide puberty blockers or hormone therapy for transgender minors, prohibiting them from transitioning. According to The Advocate, the new law has sparked a rash of suicide attempts among trans youth, an at-risk group that already has statistically higher rates of suicide. How the media represents transgender people matters now more than ever before, but when it comes to accurate or positive trans visibility in the mainstream, the media still has work to do.
Cast of Pose clockwise from top: Angelica Ross, MJ Rodriguez, Hailie Sahar, Dominique Jackson, Indya Moore Photo credit: Bethany Wade
GLAAD published findings from a recent Pew Poll estimating, “nearly 90% of Americans say they personally know someone who is lesbian, gay, or bisexual. However, multiple polls show that approximately 20% of Americans say they personally know someone who is transgender. Given this reality, most Americans learn about transgender people through the media.” The problem lies in the continued use of defamatory stereotypes for trans characters, if they are present at all, and the casting of cisgendered actors to play trans roles. In Disclosure, a documentary about trans representation in the media available on Netflix, the various transgender tropes are broken down to reveal not only the harmful effects they have on public perception of the transgender community, but also the negative impact they have on trans people’s perceptions of themselves. More often than not, trans people are still cast as either victims or villains who are disposable one-dimensional characters, and their gender is often used as a plot twist or the butt of a joke. Even an exceptional performance of a cisgender actor playing a trans role sends the wrong message to audiences, a message that in some way trans people are just pretending. There is a dire need for stories inclusive of the trans perspective without trans identity at the center, stories that show trans characters thriving and not at odds with themselves or society. If most Americans derive their understanding of transgender people through the media, the media must give them trans characters they can identify with— and root for. In recent years, breakthrough shows like Transparent, which featured many trans actors, and Pose, the first show to star mostly trans women of color, proved there is an appetite for more nuanced and positive portrayals of trans life. A more fair and accurate representation of transgender people is not only more entertaining, but it also endears the audience to trans characters and informs them of trans issues.
The entertainment and news media play an important role in shaping society’s viewpoint on the LGBTQ+ community, but in truth, it is up to all of us to analyze the content we consume and do our part to unlearn our socialized prejudices. Even as anti-LGBTQ bills pass through state legislatures, the public outcry against such discrimination offers hope to trans youth currently living in states like Arkansas that people do care about them. Their lives, and the telling of their stories, can help stir compassion in and win hearts. They can help change minds.
Hollywood - Where Dreams Come True?
Review of North Hollywood, directed by Mikey Alfred. A look into his debut film.
Written by Andrea Tangelo
Photo Credit: Kirk McKoy/ Los Angeles Times
When you think about Hollywood, what probably comes to mind is the glitz and glam of your favorite celebrities and the place where all the big-budget movies are made. But just like every other city that is known for a trademark phenomenon, the “native” locals have a different experience and bring other cultures that take part in that city.
Director Mikey Alfred shows us another side of Hollywood in his debut film North Hollywood, giving us a look into skate culture as we follow Michael’s character in his journey to becoming a pro skater. The film largely reflects Alfred’s life; as he grew up in North Hollywood, he aesthetically shows you his hometown through his eyes, birthing his auteurist style.
Before his debut feature, Alfred had created a few short films that heavily influenced the cinematography in North Hollywood. After utilizing a primarily indie LA -hip hop tracklist throughout the film, Alfred switches it up a bit by adding the 1950s rock and jazz sounds to set the tone for scenes, including the works of Arthur Lee Maye and The Crown, Shirley Horn, Bill Haley & His Comets and more musicians from that era. From local skateparks to the hangout spots where he and his skate group, Illegal Civilization, could be found, the backdrop for many of the locations in the film were locations that Alfred would frequent while growing up in North Hollywood. In fact, many of Alfred’s fellow skaters also played several lead roles in the film, enhancing the interplay between his own life and the film's fiction.
Photo Credit: Everett Collection
While the cinematography is amazing, the plot of the film tends to fall short. It becomes less about Michael’s professional skating and more about becoming an adult, making it more of a coming-of-age film than anything else. Pursuing a pro-skating career is where Michael learns the small lessons about being an adult as he is trying to make that first big step out of high school.We never really get to see him skate in the film, leaving the audience to question what the point is of the turmoil he was causing in his life; we as viewers don’t even know if he can genuinely skate.
Its linear structure forces us to focus on one theme and one person. The moment you get some type of character development, the film closes its doors. Michael projects his fear onto his friends and family by believing that they are not supporting his dreams. He pushes them away when he constantly gets caught lying to them about his whereabouts when hanging with a more well-known skate crew. The continuous cycle is played throughout the entire movie and ends when he has honest conversations, later finding out that they only want what is best and support him. These moments occur in the last ten minutes, ending with a scene of him skating off into the sunset, reciting a poem about the journey ahead being a lonely one. The audience never gets to see beyond this new learned experience, left wondering if Michael ever goes pro, but left with reassurance that he will always have the support of his loved ones.
Director: Mikey Alfred
Running Time: 93 Minutes
Available on select streaming services
Andrea is a Production Coordinator based in Brooklyn, NY whose true passion lies far away from the set and more on what is given on screen.
On Film Editing and the Math Proof
Film editing is a characteristic of filmmaking separating it from other artistic mediums and the math proof similarly characterizes mathematics in regards to other sciences. Analyzing the relationship of these characteristics to their fields, similarities arise between them that could be used to enrich both fields.
Written by Tashrika Sharma
Filmmaking and science have a long documented history, going as far back as early amateur filmmaker like Eadweard Muybridge who invented devices in the late 19th century to record movement. However, filmmaking and theoretical mathematics have little conversational history. One method of creating a conversation between the two fields could be by connecting them through their unique characteristics. While editing exists in all artistic mediums, editing in film is a technique that distinguishes film from other art forms. Whereas in mathematics, the math proof remains a mysterious combination of prose and symbols used to verify abstract statements unlike the hard sciences. These distinguishing characteristics of film and math reveal their ephemeral natures and thus provide one basis in which they can be related to each other.
“It may sound almost circular to say that what mathematicians are accomplishing is to advance human understanding of mathematics,” William Thurston wrote in On Proof and Progress In Mathematics, focusing on the psychological and sociological aspects of how math is practiced and not upon how to define it. The key aspect is that practicing mathematics involves advancing how human beings think and understand various aspects of the field. This can range from being part of a team that discovers a new result, or a team that rediscovers an old one. Thurston enumerates that aspects of math thinking involves: human language, visual, spatial, and kinesthetic sense, logic and deduction, intuition, association, and metaphor, as well as stimulus-response,and processing of time. Combinations of such thinking practices can lead to understandings that are harder to explain since they are often intangible, difficult to communicate, individual, and often the subtext of the conversation.
Photo credit: 8 1/2 (Dir. Federico Fellini, 1963), the audience is often between what the film director, Guido (center, played by Marcello Mastroianni), is fantasizing and experiencing as he embarks on making his film. He imagines Claudia Cardinale (left) gliding to give him a glass of water only to snap back into reality by the woman offering him the water (right).
The subtext is the unconscious aspect of communication that creates a more profound experience of the storytelling. “To me, the perfect film is as though it were unwinding behind your eyes, and your eyes were projecting it themselves so that you were seeing what you wished to see. Film is like thought. It’s the closest to the thought process of any art,” John Huston said in an interview published in Christian Science Monitor in 1973. The film 8 ½, which follows the creative process of the film director at the center of it, famously makes seamless transitions between the past, the present and the conditional future representing the thoughts of the director. While film is an immediate manifestation we experience, there are also internal understandings that arise in filmgoers. They arise from the thoughts guiding the films colliding with the personal associations each individual makes while watching.
Photo Credit: Meshes of the Afternoon (Dir. Maya Deren, 1943), “the woman (Maya Deren) later on in the film watches herself from a window experiencing an incident that occurred earlier in the film.” via Flicker Alley
Mathematics distinguishes itself from other fields in that ideas are communicated through proofs. A proof in the most general sense is defined as a clear flow of convincing mathematical ideas. While proofs are read linearly, readers often engage and process them non-linearly. Non-linearity in storytelling is often associated with surrealism or dynamic storytelling, one can see non-linearity in many of the sequences of the experimental film Meshes of the Afternoon which unfolds in a dream-like form. Proofs are not primary information but are a way to organize mathematical understandings and are extremely useful. These proofs are what subsequent generations encounter in terms of past work. The language they’re written in inadequately captures the way each generation thinks about the same ideas and communicates them.
Photo Credit: Meshes of the Afternoon (Dir. Maya Deren, 1943), “knife sequence is immediately proceeded by a key in the same spot” via Flicker Alley
While every field of art involves editing, filmmaking separates itself through the function of “separation” (or referred to in other cultures as “assembly”) of footage. This editing process produces a rhythm defined as the unseen but strongly felt guiding force behind an audience’s experience of watching. For these reasons, filmmaking is described as “sculpting in time” by the director Andrei Tarkovsky in his book Sculpting in Time. The editing process in this sculpting works similarly to how we blink, as remarked by Walter Murch in In The Blink of An Eye: A Perspective on Film Editing. Murch wrote.
“the blink is either something that helps an internal separation of thought to take place, or it is an involuntary reflex accompanying the mental separation that is taking place anyway.”
The choices in visual discontinuity by the blink (the edit) create a path for the film to convey the language intrinsic to itself, quite like a dream, to an audience ready to be convinced. In mathematics, it’s hard to talk about anything without explaining it. The proof or the explanation is a way of making the invisible visible - of building a path to get everyone on the same page. The communal language of the mathematical proof presupposes that the reader is prepared to be convinced. In both fields, one is telling a story making an audience familiar with something that at first feels unfamiliar, but with inexplicable revelations in each part of the proof or film, one is also at the same time becoming unfamiliar with the familiar. The latter sensation occurs when we shift our experience in reaction to something, whether a mathematical object becomes deeper in our mental image of it or watching a film expands our understanding of ourselves or others. In both cases, the math proof and the film are both temporally dynamic and exist in ways that paintings, sculptures, and other biological, chemical or physical objects are not.
If the film edit works to make films feel like a waking dream, then math progress and the mysterious way proofs work are like that of a sleepwalker. In that sense, there could be a relationship between the waking dream and sleepwalking to create work that enriches math communication and filmgoing experiences.
Reel Works’ Outcalt Award Nominees Shine in Virtual Screening
The nominees of the 2021 F. John Outcalt Award for Outstanding Filmmaking were highlighted at a virtual screening produced by Reel Works, a non-profit production company uplifting young people’s cinematic visions. Here are reviews of the dramas and documentaries directed by these incredible storytellers.
Written by Kennedy McCutchen
The nominees of the 2021 F. John Outcalt Award for Outstanding Filmmaking were highlighted at a virtual screening produced by Reel Works, a non-profit production company that empowers young storytellers through partnerships with filmmaking mentors and resources. Hosted by Bryan Clark, the night featured a combination of five different dramas and documentaries, followed by Q&A’s with each filmmaker. Reel Works’ efforts to uplift young people’s cinematic visions in New York City succeeded by leaps and bounds; by the end of the evening’s virtual screening, dozens of attendees had been moved to tears by these young visionaries. The nominees and their respective films are featured below.
Photo Credits: Shot from “MerryMakers” via Reel Works YouTube channel
“MerryMakers”
Directed by Elena Goluboff
Running Time: 10 minutes
Watch on YouTube
Goluboff’s techniques feel effortless and well-executed in a short film about two young girls growing apart while maintaining their independence. The film begins with 12:17 am flashing brightly on the screen as two thirteen-year-olds, Maya and Nora, contemplate their boredom inside a dimly lit bedroom. Maya, sensing Nora’s dissatisfaction with their night, proposes venturing out past curfew into the streets of New York, silently hoping to win back her friend whose emotional distance is palpable.
The use of a handheld camera closely follows their whimsical journey as Maya’s subdued narration ponders her friend’s growing distance. Eventually, the pair stumble into a man abusing his girlfriend; while their childlike whimsy dissipates, their empowerment does not. Maya throws a glass bottle at the man to disrupt the scene. Running away, Maya and Nora encounter more obstacles. They are arguing about whether to return inside when they see Maya’s dad awake in the house. Tension builds as Maya realizes that not all friendships are meant to last, and she once again asserts her strength by going against Nora’s demands, turning the key to unlock the door to her home.
“Under the Sun”
Directed by Jesus Luna
Running Time: 8 minutes
Watch on YouTube
Luna investigates the complexities and intersections of religion and science via his family members’ experiences with sleep paralysis. Juxtaposing shots of color and black and white, the eight-minute documentary showcases interviews of Luna’s aunt and uncle relaying their sleep paralysis histories. The dichotomy of religion and science arises in those diplomatic confrontations; his uncle, Gabriel, seeks to understand through his faith by taking up consistent prayer, while his aunt, Yvonne, attempts to remedy her episodes by managing her stress and maintaining a regular sleep schedule. Luna expertly includes Father Espinal, a Catholic priest, who unexpectedly bridges the divide between Luna’s family members. “There seems to be a false dichotomy that exists between science and faith,” the priest asserts, seeking consensus and understanding. Luna concludes the film with a similar tone, reinforcing his efforts to find not only underlying meaning but greater purpose and cohesion in the ordinary events of a life.
Photo Credits: Shot from “Under the Sun” via Reel Works YouTube channel
“Normal Family”
Directed by Maya Velazquez
Running Time: 9 minutes
Watch on YouTube
It was hard not to be incredibly touched by the love story of Velazquez’s mothers, Maritza and Jeannette. Velazquez’s documentary did not feel like her first; her artistic choices appeared like those of an experienced and powerful storyteller. The timing of her edits showed true mastery over material that was so deeply personal and profound.
“I love her. She’s my best friend… That’s what it’s all about. It’s about love.”
Moving between home videos of the past and glimpses of the present, Velazquez recounts her surprise after learning about the difficult battles each of her mothers underwent when coming out to their respective families. Their journey for authenticity and honesty is enhanced by the mise-en-scene of Maritza in the grocery store, of Jeannette running errands in the car, and of her brother, Marcus, playing Jenga. These small shots of the ordinary echo the wonderful life Velazquez continues to share with her family amidst injustice, intolerance, and pain.
“Who Is It?
Directed by Marcus Cochran
Running Time: 11 minutes
Watch on YouTube
Cochran’s drama is a nod to traditional film noir with a twist of the contemporary. Shot in black and white: Cochran directs a tense exchange between a father, Joseph, and a son, Michael. The son, diagnosed with multiple personality disorder, struggles to confront his selfish and manipulative father. Upon arrival, Joseph feigns celebration for his son’s birthday, only to mischievously grab at Michael’s wallet by the end of the evening. As the camera shifts from wide shots to close-ups, viewers watch Michael muster the strength to confront his abuser and subsequently his childhood trauma, tackling the horrors of his past while accepting who he is now.
Photo Credits: Shot from “What We Owe to Ourselves” via Reel Works YouTube channel
“What We Owe to Ourselves”
Directed by Khiari Jaffier
Running Time: 10 minutes
Watch on YouTube
Jaffier professionally excavates the conflict between the capitalist dollar and self-actualization in his documentary, “What We Owe to Ourselves.” Jaffier’s expert narration plays over shots of paintings, high school hallways, and assorted creative spaces as he contemplates how young people’s artistic ambitions can be squashed by incentives to dive into “safer” career choices.
“Life hasn’t gotten easier, it’s just gotten noisier.”
Erik Satie’s “Gymnopédie 1” ripples over interviews with aspiring students, like Paolo whose passion for the piano is evident in his earnestness. In a conversation regarding the essence of creativity, Paolo mentions that “it’s all kind of cheesy stuff, but I like the cheesy stuff.” It’s these small idiosyncratic moments captured on film that makes Jaffier’s inquiry into becoming such a pleasure.
All of these young filmmakers showcased true mastery over cinematic techniques in their own unique ways. Jesus Luna was announced the winner of the Outcalt award at Reel Works’ virtual 20th Anniversary Gala on May 26th with his film “Under the Sun.” You can donate to Reel Works’ efforts here.
Arts and Education: 16k and Margo & Perry
Symone Baptiste, director of “Sixteen Thousand Dollars” and Becca Roth, director of “Margo & Perry” go in depth on using episodic form and comedy as tools for truth and change.
Written by Lex Young
“Sixteen Thousand Dollars” directed by Symone Baptiste and “Margo & Perry” directed by Becca Roth each use different tools of artistry and storytelling to highlight the importance of the medium of film as a method for education and awareness, not just entertainment. Their growth as projects are a testament to their success and the importance of their work and messages.
Photo credit via “Sixteen Thousand Dollars” Trailer
Baptiste is a stand-up show producer and booker in LA who was a showrunner for season one of “Call & Response” and has interviewed and directed talent for NBC. “Sixteen Thousand Dollars” is an episodic short film that won Best Narrative Short at the 2020 Bushwick Film Fest. The short explores ideas of reparations through a struggling college grad who tries to figure out how to spend his reparation check received in the mail. A writer and director whose personal mission is to foster diversity in the comedy space, Baptiste challenges viewers to see slavery reparations in a brand new light.
“It was absolutely principal that we added nuance to the debate on reparations, bringing the tough conversations around the subject to the forefront and facing them head-on.” In “Sixteen Thousand Dollars''
Photo credit via “Sixteen Thousand Dollars” Trailer
She uses comedy to explore these nuances. “It became extremely apparent that addressing the matter through comedy was the right move; it lowered the barriers to understanding the complex subject and gave it an edge.” The film has been shown not just in festivals but to college students, believing that the short form, as well as the comedic approach, are valuable for education and entertainment. “It’s a testament to the validity and truth behind the story of Sixteen Thousand Dollars”. The short has also been shown at Slamdance in it’s episodic category. After making “Sixteen Thousand Dollars”, Baptiste was approached several times about turning it into an episodic show. She praises the writing of Brodie Reed and Ellington Wells, who also star in the short. “The sibling dynamic they created on the page is impeccable. People want to see more of that, and I don’t disagree.”
Photo Credit: Director Becca Roth
Becca Roth is a narrative and documentary filmmaker who tells stories that explore themes of queerness and identity. Roth describes filmmaking as an important personal tool for self-expression, and her main character, Margo, uses her artmaking similarly. “For me, filmmaking has always been very, very personal. I wrote my first film when I was a teenager as a way to cope with my feelings for a female classmate that I couldn’t talk to anyone about.” Margo is an artist who interprets her world and identity through drawings and cartoons. “Through her relationship with Perry and her growth journey as an individual, her art becomes less self-deprecating and more expansive, imaginative, and inclusive.”
“Margo & Perry,” a proof-of-concept short, is the story of a young woman who babysits for a girl she believes to be the baby she gave up for adoption as a teen. Roth has written and directed multiple projects, including the 2017 short “Lens'' featured in the 2017 run of Bushwick Film Festival. The feature screenplay of “Margo & Perry” is one of ten screenplays selected by the Black List and GLAAD for the GLAAD list.
Photo credit via “Margo & Perry” Trailer
The short “Margo & Perry” was created from the award-winning feature screenplay. “I had to take the more complete story of the feature and distill part of it into a shorter piece that still demonstrates the characters and themes of the feature while being able to exist on its own as a standalone film.” She explains the importance of Margo's identity in both the short and feature. “Margo is also a queer protagonist, which is featured more overly in the feature version of this story, but I made sure to make it subtly clear in the short as well, and that is done through her art.”
Both films utilize different techniques of artistry and storytelling to explore themes of identity and reparations, and their growth and success prove the importance of film as a method of education and expression. Baptiste and her team are moving forward with pitching “Sixteen Thousand Dollars” as a series. “We’ve put so much hard work into developing a post-reparations world for nearly a year, so it’s been a long time coming.” The feature narrative film of “Margo & Perry” is currently in development and will be Roth’s debut feature film.
2020
Director: Symone Baptiste
Starring: Brodie Reed, Ellington Wells, and David Gborie
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2020
Director: Becca Roth
Starring: Sofia Black D’Elia, Annie Parisse and Charlotte Macleod
Lex Young is currently watching movies, writing and making things in New York. Catch more of their work on Instagram
Magaluf Ghost Town: Dropping the Curtain on Low-Cost Tourism
Magaluf Ghost Town, from Director Miguel Ángel Blanca, explores the inner workings of an island town with a reputation as a wild party destination for foreign tourists. Blanca points his camera at the locals who live in Magaluf year-round, and defies the rules of documentary by blending fact and fiction.
Written by Marisa Bianco
Photo Credit Catalan Films
On the island of Mallorca, the Spanish beach town Magaluf has an extravagant reputation in both Spain and the UK. As an American living in Spain, I had never heard of it, but my British friends immediately recognized Magaluf. They could speak to its infamy as a cheap, revelrous destination for young Brits. Magaluf has been the subject of British reality shows such as “Geordie Shore” (a variation on Jersey Shore) and sensationalized news stories that have created a self-fulfilling prophecy in the town. The TV cameras flock there because of its reputation for wild and uninhibited tourism. In turn, the airing of the news stories and reality shows further increases its notoriety, attracting more foreigners who are inclined to public debauchery.
Director Miguel Ángel Blanca subverts this expectation for derangement. Instead, he points the camera toward the Magaluf locals in his new documentary Magaluf Ghost Town, which premiered at the 2021 Hot Docs Festival. Blanca casts an array of Magaluf locals from different places and generations who he films reenacting events in their lives as well as their dreams and fantasies. These characters are shown inside their homes, close-up and intimately. We never see tourists like this. Instead, we see them as the locals see them—from afar, in the background, seemingly from another planet. In this way, the film invites us to question our perspective. Why are we drawn to, at least in part, the sensationalization of the revelry and fornication? The news stories and reality TV specials wouldn’t exist without a willing audience who wants to see these tourists’ uninhibited escapades. The film confronts us with this. We want the camera to zoom in, to look closer at the tourists. Instead, they are lurking around the characters. When the camera finally points to them, the score changes to something resembling a horror soundtrack.
The film’s narrative is both circular and linear. The first thing we hear is children whisper-singing a song, in English, about Magaluf. The lyrics are bright and optimistic (“The sun is always high down here in Magaluf”), but the whispers are thoroughly chilling. While the song plays, we see the manufacturing of an aerial model of Magaluf that becomes a motif throughout the film. The camera keeps returning to the model’s tiny hotels and golf courses between scenes. After the model is built, the film opens to the real Magaluf, empty before the high season, with scenes of a quiet beach accompanied by a lullaby-like score. As the tourists arrive, the lullaby shifts to the horror music.
The film ends when the tourists leave. It’s a complete circle—the hotels are quiet once again, and the lullaby soundtrack returns. When the visuals fade to black, we again hear the whisper-singing children. As the credits roll, the children’s voices disappear into the 1987 cult hit “Come to Magalluf” by Brios. The seamless transition from a silent accompaniment to 1980s disco-pop is eerie, as we realize the children were singing the pop song all along.
Photo Credit Catalan Films
The main characters are Tere, an older woman mourning her late husband who, out of economic necessity, takes in a Malian flatmate, Cheickne, and Rubén, a young gay student who aspires to be an actor, but feels trapped by Magaluf. Blanca introduces the characters with immediate life and death stakes. Tere is trying to quit smoking after a month-long stay in the hospital; she says that she must choose between smoking and her life. Rubén is doing a photoshoot with friends in a creepy shed where a man was allegedly burned alive. They take photos of each other playing dead, laughing with a disturbing levity.
With these characters, we see that Magaluf isn’t just a “ghost town” when the tourists are gone. Magaluf and its residents have an unmistakable supernatural sensibility. Tere tells Cheikne about her nightmares. She says, “I can feel it in my bones, something is going to happen here...What is it? I don’t know. But there’s something.” Meanwhile, Rubén says that people in Magaluf are “excited that something incredible could happen.” This idea of premonition is felt differently among the two generations, but the expectancy is there nonetheless.
The film’s climax revolves around a culmination of the supernatural within the characters. Rubén and his boyfriend kidnap a British tourist and take him to an uninhabited island just off the coast of Magaluf, where they take his clothes and abandon him. This abduction is interrupted by a scene of Tere seeing a medium, who tells her that her late husband has not yet crossed from our world. Another character, Russian real estate agent Olga, talks to her daughter about how she can feel the presence of people who have died. She says “don’t be afraid” that someone is with us, but unnerving music plays in the background. Despite her assurance, I am very much afraid.
Just as the characters explore the boundary between our world and the world of fantasmas (ghosts and spirits), the film explores the boundary between fiction and reality. The kidnapping scene is made to look real, as Blanca intersperses his footage with clips of the boys’ Instagram or Snapchat stories with messages like “Buscando víctimas.” I almost wondered whether I was watching an actual abduction. This confusion is intentional—everything we see is meant to be uncertain. With Blanca’s camera, nightmares and fantasies are made real.
Photo Credit Catalan Films
There is a constant sense throughout the film that Magaluf is a paradox. Rubén feels trapped; he expresses that their destiny is to go to school to learn to serve “guiris” (pale-skinned foreigners) and make guiris happy. At the same time, he feels that anything can happen in Magaluf, even something “magical.” Furthermore, the film portrays tourists like foreign invaders, wreaking havoc on the locals’ lives with their drunken exploits. But without the tourists, Magaluf wouldn’t have an economy. The locals wouldn’t be able to live. Is the solution then with Olga, the real estate agent who wants to clean up the town’s party strip and attract wealthier Europeans over the young vacationers? The mansion she shows contrasts so strikingly to Tere and Rubén’s cramped quarters. Her vision doesn’t necessarily seem like a more attractive option.
I watched Magaluf Ghost Town twice, before and after a weekend on the beach. I was in Fuengirola on Spain’s Costa del Sol, another popular Mediterranean destination among British tourists and retirees. Fuengirola is the type of town built for holiday-makers, full of hotels and apartment rentals with balconies and terraces looking towards the sea or the mountains. It lacks the Spanish character found in other towns in the region. Watching the film’s dichotomy between the “guiris” and the locals was strange because I felt like I didn’t belong in either box. Despite being considered a “guiri” for speaking English, I am not necessarily a tourist. Am I blending into the town’s fabric of locals, or am I a tourist invader? I don’t know the answer, but I know that Blanca’s perspective has made me look at myself and this country I call my second home in a new way.
Magaluf Ghost Town is the type of documentary that is not only beautifully shot but also defies the rules of documentary filmmaking, making it even more memorable and emotionally stirring.
Title: Magaluf Ghost Down
Director: Miguel Ángel Blanca
Running Time: 93 minutes
Year: 2021
2021 Hot Docs Festival: Celebration of LGBTQ+ Cinema
The 2021 Hot Docs Festival (April 29th through May 9th) recently hosted a Celebration of LGBTQ+ Cinema, an online social event honoring the filmmakers whose work was featured at this year’s festival. Here are a few of the poignant documentaries Aubrey Benmark had the opportunity to view.
Written by Aubrey Benmark
Photo Credit: Fae Pictures
“International Dawn Chorus Day”
Director: John Greyson
Running Time: 16 minutes
Country: Canada
Year: 2021
Taking place on the first Sunday of May, International Dawn Chorus Day is a worldwide celebration inspiring people across the globe to rise with the sun and enjoy birdsong. The film cleverly adapts the event into a Zoom meeting full of birds cooing and cawing, dividing the screen into several video feeds depicting various landscapes from around the world. In contrast to the auspicious occasion, the birds speculate over the recent death of Egyptian activist/filmmaker Shady Habash, who died in a Cairo prison after years of detention as a political prisoner. In 2018, Habash produced the music video Balaha with artist Ramy Essam, criticizing Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi, the president of Egypt. The birds also lament over the death of Sarah Hegazi, a woman who was arrested in 2017 for flying a rainbow flag at an Egyptian concert, then was beaten and tortured for three months. Hegazi moved to Toronto in 2018 as a political refugee, but was unable to recover from her trauma and committed suicide a month after Shady Habash’s death. The gallery view of the birds’ Zoom call is interspersed with images of Sarah Hegazi, Shady Habash, and several other political prisoners facing injustice at the hands of Al-Sisi’s regime.
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Marlene Dietrich in 1975 Source: AP Photo
“Mad About Marlene” (Rough Cut)
Director: Vera Iwerebor
Running Time: 59 minutes
Country: Netherlands
Year: 2021
The film delves into the personal life and career of world-renowned star Marlene Dietrich, as seen through the eyes of six of her greatest fans— all older gay gentlemen. From 1959 to 1975, Dietrich toured the world with her one-woman show and left an indelible mark on a generation. Through interviews, the men discuss their love for the icon and share their extensive collections of photos, records, films, magazines, and article cut-outs, among many other Dietrich memorabilia, that have enhanced their lives throughout the years. One fan produces and performs in drag shows inspired by Dietrich, striving for perfection in every aspect, constantly asking himself, “How would Marlene do this?” Another fan makes life-like dolls of Dietrich and has travelled the world exhibiting his work. Two of the men visit Deutsche Kinemathek, a prominent German film archive that purchased Marlene’s collection of costumes, keepsakes, and other personal effects, including letters from family and lovers, after her death in 1993. As a gay icon, Marlene Dietrich enriched the lives of these men, offering them a source of strength while grappling with their own identities.
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Photo Credit: Prospektor
“Girlsboysmix”
Directors: Lara Aerts & Els van Driel
Running Time: 7 minutes
Country: Netherlands
Year: 2020
The film follows nine-year-old Wen Long, a child born intersex (formerly referred to as hermaphroditism, the presence of both male and female reproductive tissue in a person). She was adopted as a toddler and moved to the Netherlands after being left on a roadside in China. Pictures reveal the younger Wen dressed and styled as a little boy, although she currently has long hair and wears more feminine clothing. Rather than force Wen to receive a ‘corrective’ surgery she might later regret, her adopted parents provide much-needed support to their child’s identity, believing she should be the one to make decisions about her body when she is much older. Wen talks about the boys who bully her in school. One of them told her, “You’re not a boy, you’re not a girl, so you’re nothing at all,” but the precocious Wen has a different attitude.
“Intersex people decide if they are a boy or a girl. They don’t have to but they can,” she said.
Wen goes on a field trip to a sheep farm with a few of her friends. The children playfully make guesses over which sheep are rams (boys) or ewes (girls) until the sheepherder introduces them to a freemartin, an intersex sheep. Wen wishes “that everyone would know what intersex is so she doesn’t have to explain it.” Like any child, Wen only wants to be herself. The film is a cheerful portrait of a young person innocently confronting the inadequacies of the gender binary.
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Photo credit: National Film Board of Canada
“Into Light”
Director: Sheona McDonald
Running Time: 20 minutes
Country: Canada
Year: 2021
Set in Yellowknife, Canada, the film revolves around a mother’s journey to accept her child’s gender transition. To protect their privacy, the faces and identities of the pair aren’t revealed, a real and honest concern having already faced discrimination in their small community. During the beginning of her interview, when asked to talk about her child in the past tense as a boy, the mother struggles, not wanting to go against her child’s wishes. The transition began during pre-school when the mother took her son shopping to buy an outfit for the Christmas pageant. He eagerly picked out a sparkly silver dress and immediately put it on when they returned home. It was the first time the mother saw confidence in her child. As her son, he was always grumpy and scared; he often hid behind her legs and refused to interact with others. As the months went on, her son told her, “You know I’m really a girl,” and asked for different pronouns. As her daughter, with longer hair and prettier clothes, the child became social and excited to participate in life despite the bullying she faced at school. At age 5, she received a new birth certificate and health card with the correct gender markers. People they knew started to avoid them. The mother feared the hateful things others would say or do, but realized it was easier for the child to be ridiculed than to live in a way that was inauthentic. McDonald shot the film amidst a snowy backdrop, with scenes of the two playing in a massive snow castle juxtaposed with wide shots of the austere winter landscape, illustrating the bond between mother and daughter in a world where transgender children are far from being accepted.
'Shiva Baby' Review: A Comedy With Bite
Wayward soon-to-be college graduate Danielle is desperate to conceal the truth when she attends a Jewish funeral service with her parents and unexpectedly runs into an ex-girlfriend and her current sugar daddy.
Written by Aubrey Benmark
Molly Gordon as Maya. (Utopia)
Rachel Sennott as Danielle and Polly Draper as Debbie. (Utopia)
Diana Agron as Kim and Danny Deferrari as Max. (Utopia)
The tension is wound tighter than an egg timer in Emma Seligman’s debut feature film Shiva Baby, based on her short film of the same name. While attending a Jewish funeral gathering with her parents, a young woman fretfully attempts to maintain self-control and keep the truth from being exposed when she encounters her ex-girlfriend and current sugar daddy.
“What’s my sound bite again?” Danielle (Rachel Sennott) asks her parents before entering the suburban home where the shiva is already underway for a family friend. She wants to make sure they’re all on the same page when inquisitive minds, or simply meddlesome relatives, ask about her professional prospects after college. Danielle’s meager achievements fall far below expectations, so they concoct a vague lie to save face, a tactic she is not unfamiliar with. Her quarrelsome parents Debbie (Polly Draper) and Joel (Fred Melamed) have no idea their daughter is a sugar baby, a young woman who offers attention and sexual favors to older men for money. Danielle just came from a rendezvous with Max (Danny Deferrari), her primary source of income, unbeknownst to her as a former employee of her father.
As they head into the shiva, Danielle spots Maya (Molly Gordon), her childhood bestie and former girlfriend with whom she still has explosive chemistry and unresolved tension. Debbie instructs Danielle, “No funny business with Maya,” an unnecessary line her daughter is bound to cross. Once inside, Danielle is further harried by stiff small talk, prying questions, and contentious conversations with Maya, all before she can make a plate at the buffet table. Almost every woman at the party comments on her weight, more concerned than complimentary, with one acquaintance flat-out suggesting Danielle has an eating disorder. Her mother quips, “You look like Gwenyth Paltrow on food stamps, and not in a good way.” As if there weren’t enough anxiety-inducing interactions on the menu, enter Max, the sugar daddy with his own secrets to hide, soon joined by his gorgeous and successful wife Kim (Dianna Agron) and their infant daughter. Too stressed to eat, Danielle blunders from room to room trying not to cause a scene, but she often fails with amusing and painfully awkward results.
The ensemble cast offers superb character work, with Rachel Sennott delivering a stand-out performance. Much of the comedy and drama hinges on her facial expressions alone. The film’s darkly comedic tone is accentuated by a discordant string-laden musical score more evocative of horror or psycho thrillers, revealing Danielle’s inner struggles and heightening the tensity of an ordinarily somber occasion. The score is coupled with tight close-ups and handheld camerawork that only add to the sense of claustrophobia. As a result, the audience is given an obtrusive view, as if they were another mourner at the shiva, gawking as the drama unfolds.
Director: Emma Seligman
Running Time: 77 minutes
Available: on VOD and in select theaters
Film as Poetry: When Art Intersects
Over the years, several independent filmmakers have married visual storytelling with poetic rhythm, be it through form, subject matter, or concept. This piece details three short films whose poetic elements amplify the complicated and mundane meaning of their characters' lives.
Written by Kennedy McCutchen
The intersection of two art forms into one creative entity has the potential to breed a magical and idiosyncratic experience; all the more so when those two art forms prioritize a kind of rhythmic sensory aesthetic that makes one treasure the budding trees of springtime or reexamine a kiss from a loved one. Over the years, several independent filmmakers have taken advantage of such artistic marriages in powerful and innovative ways. Poetry and its typologies have emerged as one medium on-screen as a subject, as an identity, and as an idea. The list of short films below consists of filmmakers whose poetic identities and interests reveal themselves as intricate and palpable stories.
Film as Haiku: Nettles (2018)
Photo Credits: Aaron Jaker, via Nettles - Chapters
A Bushwick Film Festival competitor and prize-winner, this short film written and directed by Raven Jackson exudes a haunting elegance characteristic of many women’s most subtle and traumatic moments in life. Composed of six nearly silent chapters, viewers are taken from body part to body part, both literally and figuratively. A little girl’s eye watches a father figure let his wet towel fall to the floor in what feels like a vacant home. An older woman’s back is quietly swept away in the currents of a muddied river. These little instances of difference and the liminal reminded me—and I’m sure many others—of my own intimate moments with fear, grief, healing, and sexuality.
Jackson is a published poet (her most recent work is a chapbook titled little violences), but her film does not prioritize nor celebrate poetry directly. Rather, it is the delicate haiku-like audiovisual experience that resembles something of an atmospheric slam session. The film’s short stories mimic the length and precision with which Jackson writes her poems. An excerpt from her poem “i watch papa bury our dog in a grave the size of a pond” strikes the same tone as her bodily Nettles chapters: “my jaws lock in mid-sentence and hands cover your last white leg with dirt.” Just as a haiku emphasizes the beauty of nature or the simple moments of life in only three lines, Jackson needs only the skip of a small girl’s jump rope over crunching leaves to foreground links between innocence, femininity, and the earth.
The fourth chapter, Throat, further displays the ephemeral and complex moments of a woman’s life. The audience watches the protagonist unflinchingly gut a chicken as the camera closes in on the innards of the bird, refusing to cut away. Confronting the uncomfortable while nevertheless carving a familiar ambience, the chapter continues to explore necessity and desire as we begin to watch the same woman masturbate. The director’s choice to juxtapose the scenes embodies the direct and often provocative nature of the well-known three-line poetic structure. Singularly evocative and desperately poignant, Jackson’s knack for stinging the viewer with an efficient, transient aesthetic keeps the tension high. Shot with 16 mm film and with little to no dialogue, Jackson’s work indeed reminds one of a rich haiku: short, intentional, and surprising.
Stream on The Criterion Channel
Film as Freeverse: How to Be at Home (2020)
Photo Credits: Andrea Dorfman’s YouTube Thumbnail
Directed by Andrea Dorfman in collaboration with songwriter and poet Tanya Davis, How to Be at Home is an endearing and timely short film made via still-shot animation. A narrator’s melodic voice recites a poem, a sequel to the pair’s first film How to Be Alone (2010), as Dorfman turns the pages of an illustrated book, each new leaf revealing a depiction of the words spoken. Made in the throes of the recent pandemic, How to Be at Home both comforts and mourns alongside our isolated bodies that are still coping after more than a year of living in the era of coronavirus. Kind suggestions of healing greet you at every corner. “Appreciate the kindness in the distance of strangers,” we’re told; “lean into loneliness and know you’re not alone,” our invisible friend says as hands hold along the bind.
“Feed your heart - if people are your nourishment, I get you. Feel the feelings that undo you while you have to keep apart.”
The film serves as a stylistically rhythmic lullaby, not abashing our self-pity nor ignoring the triggers that grind themselves against our identities and loved ones at every fresh news notification. It’s a short film about the familiar. It’s a two-dimensional pot clanging against a two-dimensional spoon. It’s a seagull beating above waves that can resemble our calmest spaces. It’s a poem, spoken and seen, reminding us that spaciousness in solitude can create a more holistic individual, one that can find connectivity and “truth” in the murk of death and isolation.
Stream on YouTube
Film as Elegy: The Poet and Singer (2012)
Photo Credits: Cinema on the Edge
“Hell subverting hell becomes heaven,” recites the poet of The Poet and Singer, a 21-minute short film directed by Bi Gan. The film follows an artistic pair along their casually murderous trek. Two men contemplate ambition, the Diamond Sutra, and toothaches in transitory non-places, all points from A to B: a river, a cave, a path along a field. Lightning bolts flash sporadically, cloaking the film with a sense of unexpected danger while maintaining voyeuristic awe regarding the extraordinary capabilities of nature. The poetry reveals itself out of the aforementioned toothache, out of meeting the father of a man they were paid to kill. A knife lingers from scene to scene; it doesn’t seem to surprise.
“Hell subverting hell becomes heaven.”
The lack of shock value is precisely why the melodrama of the film feels relatively unimportant. What does hold import is the contemplative and serene nature of Bi Gan’s artistic vision. For this reason, even given the abstract nature of the piece, The Poet and Singer best embodies that of an elegy, a reflection on a serious subject matter. A murder occurs along the river, but the philosophizing and ambition of the main characters’ are not limited to their callous act; in fact, they seem hardly troubled by it at all. Just as “the old man” claims the singer’s toothache “doesn’t matter,” neither does their crime. Instead, the political and spiritual realizations, as disguised as they may be in the film, are lamented with the poignancy of a silent paddle upstream.
Stream on The Criterion Channel
Filmmaker Tess Harrison: From Inspired Shorts to Her Feature Debut, The Light Upstate
Bushwick Film Festival alumna Tess Harrison discusses her short film work and her upcoming feature debut.
Written by Marisa Bianco
Photo Credit by filmmaker Tess Harrison
“I think I am terrified of losing someone - so finding a way to visualize that space in between life and death is comforting to me,” says Bushwick Film Festival alumna Tess Harrison about her upcoming film, The Light Upstate, which explores grief and its myriad of complexities. Harrison is a filmmaker and actor whose momentum is on the rise. Her work in short narrative film and music videos shows her capacity to tell visually and narratively exciting stories in just a few short minutes. Soon we’ll have the opportunity to see what Harrison can do with the feature-length format in her directorial debut, The Light Upstate, an adaptation of her 2018 short Take Me Out with the Stars, an official selection of the 11th Annual Bushwick Film Festival.
Across Harrison’s directorial work is a talent for capturing setting and character in harmony. The worlds in which her films take place feel real, and the characters feel as if they are in and of those worlds. In her first short, 2015’s DOG, a group of teenagers sit around a bonfire, playing truth or dare. The conversation is silly and innocent enough until one character, Alex, admits a dark secret. It's a startling change in the tone of the conversation, but it works because the film’s visual style remains constant. In the beginning, the smiles and laughter of the bantering teens don’t match the ominous shadows of the flames moving across their faces. It is almost a relief when Alex tells his secret—it diffuses this tension, the mismatch between visuals and dialogue, that Harrison so expertly builds. We’re left with the melancholy of watching these teens’ relationships change before our eyes. The camera lingers on one girl, who is realizing, perhaps for the first time, that we don’t always know people as well as we think we do.
Harrison returns to the bonfire setting from DOG in her 2018 short Take Me Out with the Stars. The short follows two adult siblings as they struggle with the fact that their dying father fled the hospital he was staying in. In the end, the siblings sit at a bonfire, looking up at a stop-motion animated yellow star, representing their father’s spirit, that somehow they can both see. Harrison reveals that she “wanted the star to feel like it was in between the world of the film and the world of the audience.” She says that “the movement of [animator Zuzu Snyder’s] figures really spoke to me,” and “stop motion in particular has such a material presence on screen, especially against a live-action background.” Harrison uses the star to shift focus, which she suggests “allows for the audience to feel that sense of dizziness that you experience in grief - that sense that the world is moving under your feet.”
Take Me Out with the Stars is the type of short that tells a complete narrative, yet draws you into its world so skillfully that I couldn’t help but yearn to know more about the characters and their relationships—with each other and with their father. I want to live in the magical realism a little longer, where we can see the love and the spirits of those we grieve animated across our skies.
Photo Credit by filmmaker Tess Harrison
In The Light Upstate, the siblings are portrayed by Harrison and her real-life brother, Will. Harrison wrote the film for herself and her brother, and “though we are definitely not the characters in the film, we share a shorthand as actors and siblings that created an inimitable tension on screen.” Tess and Will Harrison previously acted together in Tess’s 2015 award-winning short It’s Perfect Here. Describing their experience making the feature, she says, “It was super challenging and rewarding to work on this material together, so hopefully that creates a unique experience for an audience.” In the feature, the missing parent is instead the mother, “a renowned children’s book author and illustrator.” The literal connection to childhood in this character allows the film’s tone to be “steeped in this childlike, magical imagery.” Tess’s character, Eve, “is burying herself in her mother’s art as a way of accessing and staying in the magic of her childhood, while the reality of her mother’s death is pressing on her.” Harrison focuses on the character’s “minute changes,” expressing her hope that “those little shifts in self-awareness are as moving for an audience as they are for me as the writer, director and actress.”
Harrison also has an impeccable sense of how to use music and sound design in visual storytelling. In Take Me Out with the Stars, the titular animated star skips across the screen, seemingly enlivened by the spritely score. The yellow star and its music provide a warm balance to the cool winter tones and the characters’ dark grief. Standout sound design is further apparent in her 2017 short film Things Break In, an official selection of the 10th Annual Bushwick Film Festival. At certain moments we hear the gentle, folksy score, punctuated by short swells of strings and piano, while at other moments we hear the sounds of the farm and nature, whose musical cadence seems like an extension of the score. Then, when a thunderstorm comes, nature and score come together like a serendipitous symphony, just as the two characters come together.
Photo Credit by filmmaker Tess Harrison
In addition to her short film work, Harrison co-directed a narrative podcast series produced by and starring Cole Sprouse called Borrasca in 2020. Written by Rebecca Klingel, whose credits include The Haunting of Hill House and The Haunting of Bly Manor, Borrasca is a horror story and mystery reminiscent of Stephen King’s It and Nic Pizzolattos’ True Detective. The congruity of dialogue, sound effects, and music makes this story an immersive auditory experience. Harrison describes directing a podcast as “like theatre in a lot of ways. Moves fast, you can play around with the performances and clock the tiniest changes in delivery when you are only working with the voice.”
What’s next for this emerging writer, director, and actor? This fall, Harrison will participate in the Nostos Screenwriting Retreat in Italy, where she’ll work on the film The French Movie, “about an American teenager studying abroad in the south of France in 2005,” which explores “themes of sexuality, coming of age and national identity.” She is also working on an adaptation of her short film, Things Break In. You can see all of Tess Harrison’s work on her website.
'Tina' Review: Her Story on Her Terms
The HBO documentary Tina delves into the personal life and career of rock icon Tina Turner. Utilizing never before released sound recordings and archival footage, the film exposes how media coverage of her abusive first marriage to Ike Turner furthered her traumatization, but never overcast Tina’s phenomenal talent.
Written by Aubrey Benmark
Tina Turner in 1973 Photo Credit Rhonda Graam/Courtesy of HBO
The new HBO documentary Tina, directed by Dan Lindsay and TJ Martin, examines the personal life and decades-long career of the legendary singer Tina Turner. It begins with archival footage of her performing “Ask Me How I Feel” to a packed stadium of energized fans fueled by Tina’s powerful voice. The concert’s visuals continue as the music fades into an old sound clip of a reporter asking Tina if anyone has approached her to make or create the story of her life.
She replied, “Yes, but I don’t want to play the part. I’ve done it. . . It was just so unlike me, my life, that I don’t want anyone to know about it. . . it wasn’t a good life. It was in some areas, but the goodness did not balance the bad. So it’s like, not wanting to be reminded. You don’t like to pull out old clothes, you know?”
Tina truly donned many costumes and played many roles in her life: singer, dancer, mother, daughter, a survivor of domestic abuse, a triumphant star. And yet, throughout much of it, she lacked the agency to make her own choices. Tina, a story told in five compelling acts, allows the singer to take control of her narrative and put the final footnotes in the margins.
Tina was born Anna Mae Bullock in 1939 and raised by sharecroppers who grew cotton on a farm fifty miles outside of Memphis, TN. Her parents fought constantly. They eventually abandoned Tina and her siblings, leaving them in the custody of an older cousin with next to nothing. At the age of seventeen, she met Ike Turner when she went with her sister to see his band play, billed the hottest band in town. Intent on being in the band, Tina relentlessly urged Ike to hear her sing, although she knew nothing of show business at the time— a weakness Ike would later exploit in his favor. They were never legally married, but without asking, Ike gave her the name Tina Turner and declared them a couple as a marketing ploy to sell more records.
From 1962 to 1978, they were Ike and Tina Turner, the sensational music duo. Tina dazzled onlookers with her undeniable talent. The documentary is flush with recordings of live performances that ignite fans as much today as they did back then. It seems unfathomable that the same person was simultaneously experiencing what Tina described as “basic torture.”
“I was living a life of death. I didn’t exist. But I survived it. And when I walked out, I walked. And I didn’t look back,” Tina said.
Ike got everything they built together. During Tina and Ike’s divorce proceedings, Tina asked for nothing but her stage name. Now in her forties, Tina used it to propel herself forward, dreaming of being the first black rock and roll star to fill stadiums like The Rolling Stones. However, she was hindered by an ageist, racist, and misogynistic industry that didn’t understand her or why she was no longer with Ike.
In 1981, to distance herself from her former partner and establish herself as a solo act, Tina did an interview with People magazine detailing some of the brutality she suffered at the hands of Ike Turner. She hoped it would make interviewers stop questioning her about him, but it only made their questions more intrusive. After the success of her debut album, 1984’s Private Dancer, the intrigue around her marriage grew. She penned I, Tina, with co-author Kurt Loder in 1986, hoping that she could put the story out there and be done with it. Instead, it became public domain.
Official Release Poster HBO
The film delves further into how the extensive and invasive media coverage of the abuse she endured perpetuated her traumatization, specifically obscene questions from various TV interviewers over the years. “Is there a real lowlight, something you’d love to forget?”, one reporter asked Tina, as if she were there only to give him salacious sound bites about domestic violence. Her husband and partner for the last 35 years, former music executive Erwin Bach, likened her experience to “a soldier coming back from the war.” Tina didn’t want to revisit the battleground.
While Tina recounts some of the savageries she experienced during her marriage to Ike, it doesn't show it or glorify it. The documentary focuses on how the media’s sensationalizing of her story affected Tina throughout the rest of her career despite her enormous success. It is the story of an amazingly talented woman trying to come to grips with why the darkest parts of her life could become such an inspiration for many, but also a sick fascination for others.
During Tina’s interview for the film, at the age of 80, she said, "You let it go because it only hurts you. Not forgiving, you suffer, 'cause you think about it over and over again. And for what? I had an abusive life. There's no other way to tell the story. It's a reality, it's a truth. That's what you've got. So you have to accept it."
In many ways, Tina's 1981 interview with People magazine was a #metoo moment long before social media existed, and a long time before women felt safe discussing domestic violence or sexual abuse publicly. In the end, Tina’s fans aren't inspired by the gory details of the torture she suffered. Instead, they are inspired by her musical legacy, the courage it took to share her story, and her determination to rise above it.
‘Tina’
Directed by: Daniel Lindsay & T. J. Martin
Running Time: 1 hour, 58 minutes
Streaming: HBO Max
Woman of the Photographs: A Photogenic Exploration of Self in Relation to Others
Written by BFF 2020 Ambassador, Nace DeSanders
Written and directed by Takeshi Kushida, Woman of Photographs is a drama that still manages to be rather droll. Starring Hideki Nagai, the story is about Kai, a middle-aged photographer with a phobia of women that meets and falls for Kyoko, played by Itsuki Otaki, a young instagram influencer. Both protagonists' lives are dictated by their work and as a result both the film and their love is also centered entirely around their work.
After Kai and Kyoko’s not so cute meet-cute, they go to eat dinner. In a trendy shopping complex in Azabu Juban, the clock strikes midnight and music plays: Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers. Kyoko, a former dancer, begins to dance ballet in the spacious plaza. At this moment, I desperately feared Kyoko’s character being a manic pixie dream girl, as she does present all the symptoms of such disease early on. Luckily, Kyoko is not a manic pixie dream girl. In fact, I can not think of a specific term or category to put her character in. Kyoko very much exists for this story, specifically. She is not entirely real, nor is she completely fictionalized.
Our protagonist, Kai, wears a white suit throughout the film. It looks fantastic. He is an older gentleman, and the suit really makes him seem like he is from a by-gone era. It’s perfect for his character. He lives a simple life. He works, eats, takes care of his pet, partakes in his hobby and bathes at the local bathhouse. That’s about it. The white suit lends itself to that well. It suggests a life and time with less distractions. The film, for the most part, takes place in the sleepy Tokyo neighborhood where Kai resides. It all comes together to paint a portrait of who our protagonist is from the start.The supporting lead actor, Kyoko, however, was not so well dressed, in my opinion. When not in yoga outfits, she wore a very busy patterned, pink top, with floral patterned blue capris, and red stilettos. It was just such a peculiar choice. I wish she had just stayed in her yoga outfits through the entire movie. That would have made more sense. On a positive note, her central color is red and that was often referenced in the film. She wears a red dress when she realizes that she has been physically hurting herself in the name of instagram likes. She wears the red heels, her finger and toenails are red, and her ever-present bleeding wound is, of course, red. That was an aspect of her costuming that I did like. Without giving anything away, there is a scene where the photographer, in a public bath, pours water over his head. It appears to us, the audience, as thick red blood instead, representing Kyoko. With this as an example, there were a lot of interesting stylistic choices made in this film that kept me fully engaged throughout.
The two side characters really helped bring the story to life. There was an old man whose young daughter had long passed away and whose wife left him. As well as a tragically insecure woman looking to marry. The two of them work to suggest the central themes of the story to the viewer. The man shows more positive aspects of the photography business; he uses the service to prepare a photo for a funeral in the opening of the film. Later he uses the service to digitally age his deceased daughter, allowing him to see what she may have looked like had she been given the opportunity to grow up. The woman looking to marry, on the other hand, displays a warped sense of beauty and self-worth in her desperate need to be digitally edited in a manner that more so reflects purikura (1) than a professional editing service. Her breasts are augmented, her eyes widened, her chin slimmed, her nose pinched, and she still wants more done!
In this film, the cinematographer was the MVP for sure. This film is Yu Oishi’s first credit as a cinematographer and it certainly will not be their last. The regular suburban-looking streets of residential Tokyo are filmed as if something completely new. The photographer's apartment and work studio, very realistically too full of stuff and not particularly beautiful, are shot in an engaging way that keeps the audience's eyes throughout. The camera movements are never distracting and effectively transported us to the locations of this film. The editor is also in need of a shout-out. The comedic beats that hit, did so because of the editing. The cut-aways happen at just the right time and I found myself giggling throughout the film.
My gripes with the film are small but they certainly bothered me throughout. For such a quiet movie, the sound mixer was a little overzealous throughout the film. I can understand hearing the praying mantis chew and the photos being retouched as a stylistic choice but when every footstep, clothing rustle, and arm movement is as loud as the characters speaking, it becomes extremely distracting. Perhaps this is not a comment for a film review but instead for some kind of linguistic dissertation but I found a lot of subtitling choices to be odd. There were times when direct translations were used and I felt that a more nuanced translation would have served better. There were also times when the exact opposite occurred. The translations were not direct but differed from the words spoken (I assume, in the name of clarity) when I felt, a more direct translation would have been perfect. The result is a lot of dialogue that reads as unnatural in English when that simply is not the case in Japanese. The Japanese dialogue is well-written and, in my opinion, very natural sounding throughout.
The film obviously has commentary on social media use and the way it affects our self-esteem and self-worth. However, it also has a much more interesting take on the roles men and women play to one another. Represented by the female praying mantis that eats her mate when finished, Kai suggests that this is simply the role of a partner. He suggests that now, enamored with Kyoko, it is his role to serve her. The side character looking to be married suggests something similar, in her willingness to become the person shown in her edited photos for the sake of a partner. It is very much a more exaggerated take on the traditional Japanese marriage views that persist today and I wish the film had made time to explore it further.
Woman of the Photographs is Takeshi Kushida’s debut feature film. He immediately shows promise and I am excited to see what is to come from him next. Woman of the Photographs is a thought-provoking exploration of social media’s hold of our lives, self-worth, and perhaps most importantly, what our roles are as partners. I recommend this film to anyone who likes quiet films with very specific and rather weird symbolism.
Purikura: Japanese photo-booths that automatically edit your image to make you look like a caucasian (read: white) doll
A Haunting and Atmospheric Slow Burn: 4 out of 5 ⭐️
Written by BFF 2020 Ambassador, Bec Fordyce
From the moment Sanzaru begins, director, Xia Magnus creates an unshakable sense of dread. The story follows Filipina healthcare worker, Evelyn (Aina Dunlao), who takes care of her ailing employer, Dena (played beautifully by Jayne Taini) in an isolated Texas homestead.
As Dena succumbs to her dementia, Evelyn starts to notice things about the house that don’t seem right, especially, at night. Is she just imagining things - or is it something more sinister? As Evelyn starts to interact more with the family members, it is clear that each family member harbors trauma and dark secrets.
What I love about the film is the fusion of an Eastern ghost story with a gothic horror. Magnus has done an incredible job of creating an eerie atmosphere. Special mention also goes to Mark Khalife for his beautiful cinematography. The film can sometimes be a little too slow with its pacing, but over all this is a good film with excellent production value.
“Sanzaru” is an intelligent ghost story that never resorts to jump-scare tactics. Instead, it is a slow burn, that leaves you with an unshakable sense of dread, right until the end credits.
Milkwater: A Realistic Look into the Complicated Friendships of New York
Written by BFF 2020 Ambassador, Nace DeSanders
Written and directed by Morgan Ingari, Milkwater is about a young New Yorker, Milo (Molly Bernard), who becomes a surrogate mother for a new friend, Roger (Patrick Breen). The film also stars Robin DeJesus and Ava Eisenson as Milo’s closest friends. Milkwater opens up with a baby shower scene reminiscent of the opening baby shower scene from Like a Boss. It’s comedic, up tempo and immediately tells us what kind of lady our protagonist is. It sets the tone and let’s us know, we are in for a fun ride. Milkwater delivers.
The story is surprisingly real and believable. The film does not divulge into unfunny shticks or ongoing gags that don’t hit. It’s a character-driven story first and a comedy second. The way that the characters banter with each other is quick and witty. I think, in a lot of films, this starts to sound like people reading from a script. Being constantly quick and witty becomes annoying but Milkwater avoids that by not letting every joke hit. At one point, Milo jokes about fighting people off to protect someone’s bag. The joke misses. He says “What?,” confused not amused. As an endlessly witty moron myself, I know that reaction too well. It’s believable, thanks to believably written characters. That being said, let’s jump into the characters.
Our protagonist, Milo, similar to Kiera Knightly’s character in Laggies, watches her peers hit the traditional milestones of adulthood and feels as though she is doing it wrong (it being life). I would say that Milo’s character is an archetype of female comedies. She is the woman-child like Frances Ha, Annie from Bridesmaids, or even Abbi and Ilana from Broad City. Milo is a funny, likeable protagonist but her flaws are what make her come to life. You love her but absolutely understand the other characters’ gripes with her. You also definitely know someone like her. That familiarity you immediately have with her makes her easy to follow through the story.
A main staple of the woman-child archetype is her relationship with her friends. Milo meets Roger in a very rare and adorable friendship meet-cute. Friendship meet-cutes happen way more often than romantic meet-cutes, right? Why do I only see the romantic ones? Milkwater is a portrait of friendships between Milo and a number of others. It only makes sense that we start with a platonic meet-cute. I thought Milo’s relationship with her pregnant best friend, Noor, was very realistic. They weren’t perfect friends who had a fight over the course of the movie. They were close friends with issues seeded in their relationship for a long time, a side of female friendships not seen often. We see the complicated nature of their friendship when Noor reacts badly to Milo’s news of surrogacy. Milo storms out of her apartment but stops, turns around, and sees that Noor had gone after her. The women slap each other’s faces lightly and smile. The issues that arose in the argument were not ameliorated but they forgive one another because they love each other.
Milkwater highlights the New York LGBTQ plus scene in a way that traditionally films have a hard time doing. There are plenty of gay characters and many scenes take place in a drag bar but the films does not focus on the character’s queerness. It is as much a part of their character as their fun senses of humor, their life plans or their relationships to Milo. Films about queerness are fine but the reality is that LGBTQ people do not walk around existing exclusively as LGBTQ people. Queer characters whose entire existence is being queer might be considered a stereotype at this point. So having a film that focuses on an LGBTQ experience, surrogacy, while still getting to be about life. I also like that our straight protagonist hangs out with mostly LGBTQ people. This film does not have the token gay friend or the token ethnic friend. When we let queer filmmakers tell their own stories, we get real stories!
The film is very clearly and obviously, set in Brooklyn. It’s full of brooklyn-based actors, throws in jokes about the L-train and a number of jokes about what New Yokers must do (like seeing a drag show). The setting very much plays a big role in the film. It doesn’t add to the story, but it does add to the atmosphere and worldbuilding. Showing at Brooklyn-based film festivals, like the Bushwick Film Festival, locals will get an extra kick out of recognizing locations and references.
The film was well-paced with an understandable timeline. The conflict evoked a sense of poignancy. This, for me, came from the familiarity of Milo. I felt like I knew her, sometimes I was her and so her failures and difficulties were mine too. Milkwater is absolutely a success. It accomplishes everything it sets out to achieve. I absolutely recommend Milkwater to every 20 something year old who is watching all their friends and kids they knew in high school get married and have babies. It’s a specific demographic but I know there are a lot of us!
13th Annual BFF Film Bites: Cotton Candy, Frederick Douglas Boulevard & Take Out Girl
Written by BFF 2020 Ambassador, J’Nique Johnson
Cotton Candy
This film explores the cultural divide between Haiti & the Dominican Republic in such a creative way. I love the imagery, the depiction of familial relationships and the message that there’s room in this world for all of us to thrive. It’s a nice reminder that we all have a common goal in life and that’s survival and it’s easier to survive when we work together.
Frederick Douglas Boulevard
As a black woman, this movie resonated deep within my soul. I personally believe that it is a hilarious, yet very real fantasy that many people of color have about combating gentrification. This scenario was executed beautifully with some occasional laughs, as well as uncomfortable moments that were necessary to evoke the discomfort of gentrification. A must see especially for those looking to move into newly gentrified neighborhoods.
Take Out Girl
The premise of this film was enough to draw me in immediately. A young Asian woman selling drugs through her mother’s restaurant to create a better life for her family. As if that’s not crazy enough, it has an unexpected twist that will literally have your jaw on the floor. The acting and cinematography is phenomenal. It will have you on the edge of your seat the entire time!