From Personal to Political

in 62nd Viennale Film Festival

by Alexander Melyan

The programme viewed by the FIPRESCI Jury at the 62nd edition of the Viennale featured 12 debut and sophomore feature films. This outstanding special selection created a sense of coherence and fostered a dynamic dialogue among the works, which delved into themes of political turmoil, existential doubt, longing and belonging.

Mamadou Dia’s Demba (Senegal, Germany, Qatar) follows the life of its titular character, a municipal worker grieving the loss of his wife. Demba becomes entangled in a world where reality and dreams, memories and nightmares intertwine. Teetering on the brink of suicide, he grapples with depression in a society that dismisses and stigmatises mental health issues. At the same time, the director highlights how the community attempts to confront this challenge and gather in mutual support. At the end of the film, we witness the Tajabon festival—a ritual in which those who have lost loved ones cross-dress and celebrate life together in their grief.

Simon of the Mountain (Simón de la montaña, Argentina, Uruguay, Chile) by Federico Luis is another exploration of psychological and emotional boundaries. Simón, who calls himself a moving assistant, pretends to be insane, and the reason behind his behaviour remains unclear. The character exists in a state of misunderstanding and uncertainty, raising the question: where is the line between “normality” and “madness”? 

In Madeleine Hunt-Ehrlich’s The Ballad of Suzanne Césaire (USA), an actress immerses herself in the role of anti-colonial and feminist activist Suzanne Césaire through her writings. The film, presented as a fragmented meditation, never offers a clear portrait of this historical figure. This lack of clarity defies the conventions of a typical biopic. As the film itself suggests, it is a tribute to someone who did not wish to be remembered. 

A girl calls her mother from a summer camp in the middle of the night: “Come and take me away from this place, or I’ll kill myself”—this is how Annie Baker’s Janet Planet (USA, UK) begins. At first glance, it appears to be a bittersweet story of a girl “not like everyone else”. Nevertheless, the focus turns to her mother, whose life is characterised by a pervasive sense of uncertainty. Yet Annie Baker skilfully sidesteps the most heart-wrenching moments, immersing us in a leisurely and detached exploration of the complexities of coming-of-age and the mother-daughter bond.

Melrick from Listen to the Voices (Belgium, France, French Guiana) spends his summer in French Guiana at his grandmother’s house to escape the chaos of his daily life in Stains, France. The boy learns to play the drum to honour the memory of his late uncle, Lucas Diomar, a musician who passed away under tragic circumstances. Tracing the path of Melrick and his relatives, director Maxime Jean-Baptiste uncovers the local culture that still remains unknown to most of us. The true story unfolds through artistic cinematic techniques, resulting in a compelling mixture of documentary and fiction. The third act of the film is especially impactful, as each scene carries the weight of a possible conclusion.

In Fario (France) by Lucie Prost, Léo, a young engineer scarred by a recent family trauma, returns from a hectic Berlin life to his home in rural France. He now must choose where he wants to live and figure out what he truly needs from life. The story shifts between genres, blending psychological drama, conspiracy thriller, and even light-hearted adventure. However, it is the journey back to his roots and the acceptance of both himself and his surroundings that brings the hero—and the film—finally to a place of peace.

A different kind of homecoming is represented in Rungano Nyoni’s On Becoming a Guinea Fowl (UK, Zambia, Ireland). On an empty road in the middle of the night, Shula, the film’s protagonist, stumbles across her uncle’s body. The reaction and behaviour of the girl and her family are quite unusual: it appears that none of them are truly willing to care for the body. Even the police say that they won’t collect it until the following morning. What starts as an absurd comedy evolves into a profound exploration of society. While depicting the funeral ritual, the film examines the traditional systems, family hierarchies, the conspiracy of silence, and pervasive injustice, ultimately revealing that at the core of it all lies fundamental greed and insatiable pursuit of profit.

In Drowning Dry (Seses, Latvia, Lithuania) by Laurynas Bareiša, two sisters along with their families embark on a joint holiday in the countryside, enjoying a perfect getaway until a tragic event shatters the idyllic atmosphere. The story itself is straightforward and somewhat predictable. However, the true power lies not in the plot, but in the structure. The film employs numerous flashbacks, flashforwards and, essentially, repetitions of certain scenes, such as the climax, which we see twice. Following Antonioni’s concept of blow-up, we just need to revisit a certain moment in order to understand what is happening. And the director is kind enough to grant the viewer this opportunity.

However, the most conceptual work of the program turned out to be Matthew Rankin’s Universal Language (Une langue universelle, Canada). Еverything is out of place in this film. Characters and scenarios reminiscent of Abbas Kiarostami, Amir Naderi, or Jafar Panahi have been intriguingly transplanted into the Canadian city of Winnipeg, celebrated by Guy Maddin. It is almost impossible to talk about the film without acknowledging the cinematic movements and directors that have influenced it. Yet, in this case, the abundance of references and their bold application work together to create a wholly original cinematic experience. It seems there is no other film dealing with topics of migration, displacement, and alienation in such an unusual and inventive way.

Another standout film in the programme, Neo Sora’s Happyend (Japan, USA), presents a vision of near-future Japan rapidly transforming into a military state. The system is corrupted, the society polarised and the non-Japanese are in danger of being deported. Even schools have implemented the new camera surveillance system—Panopty. The plot centres on a group of teenagers who try to find their way in this world. Inseparable friends, as it were, begin to drift apart. The film explores a crucial moment when one must confront the increasing injustices of the new reality and make important decisions: to conform and accept the established order or to resist it. This is a remarkable debut in fiction film (director Neo Sora has previously made several documentaries, including two concert films dedicated to his father, Ryuichi Sakamoto), reminiscent of the best coming-of-age stories of Taiwanese, American and Japanese cinema. Despite the elements of the oppressive dystopian genre, the film has an atmosphere of lyricism, youth and freedom.

In stark contrast, Rusudan Glurjidze’s The Antique (Antikvariati, Georgia, Switzerland, Finland, Germany) offers an antipode to the warmth of Happyеnd. Inspired by real events—specifically the 2006 deportation of Georgians from Russia—the film follows Medea, a Georgian woman who moves in with an elderly man, Vadim Vadimych, in St Petersburg. Through a hazy image the northern capital emerges as if suspended in permafrost. There is no future here, only the past captured in dusty photographs that Vadim Vadimych obsessively preserves, only to later tear them into small pieces in a fit of frenzy.

Paradoxically, the film’s heavy use of symbolism—beginning with the antagonist’s name—simplifies the narrative, leaving little room for interpretation and often undermining its impact. The topic of deportation fades into the background while the police’s excessive brutality appears almost theatrical, especially considering the fact the true extent of the cruelty may not be fully depicted.

Without a doubt, the most significant film in the programme from a political perspective was No Other Land (Palestine, Norway) by Basel Adra, Hamdan Ballal, Yuval Abraham, and Rachel Szor. Living in Mosafer Yata, a community of nineteen Palestinian villages in the West Bank, is a constant battle for survival amid ongoing challenges. The Israeli government is forcing Palestinians to abandon their homes under the guise of the construction of a military base. Complaints in international courts, along with street activism and rallies, only serve to delay the inevitable displacement of the villagers.

The filmmakers employ a videoblog style to present an insider’s perspective. This approach is not new: the Israeli occupation has been explored through similar formats before. In the acclaimed film Five Broken Cameras (2011), director Emad Burnat documented the struggle of Palestinian villagers to remain on their land against encroaching settlers, with the title symbolising the destruction of his five cameras during various confrontations. While No Other Land lacks a comparable conceptual framework, it powerfully portrays systemic brutality and the resilience of individuals ensnared by the state machinery, prioritising raw truth over artistic finesse.

 

Alexander Melyan
Edited by Birgit Beumers
© FIPRESCI 2024