ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

Jazz

Slamdance 2022 – Still more to see

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As Slamdance Film Festival continues, I’ve spent some time with some of the features that are part of the festival.

Paris Is in Harlem, directed by Christina Kallas, is a collection of intertwining stories that take place in the day before the Cabaret Law (which prohibited dancing in bars and restaurants and was mainly used to harass minority establishments and jazz clubs). There are people with various problems and conflicts that all end up at Paris Blues Jazz Club. Jazz permeates the film, not just in the club, but all around the city. A very pleasant celebration of a place and the music that drives it. Paris Is in Harlem is part of the Breakout section.

Underdog, from director Tommy Hyde, is a documentary about a Vermont dairy farmer whose real passion is dog mushing. His dream is to run his dogs at a race in Alaska, but the finances of this farming operation make that difficult. This is a man who says he’s never been away from the farm for longer than five days in his life. But in spite of the difficulty of trying to hold on to his farm, when he’s on the sled behind his dogs, we see that pure joy looks like.

In Retrograde, directed by Adrian Murray, a young woman gets a ticket she believes she doesn’t deserve. Her battle to fight the ticket affects her work and her relationship with her new housemate, who was in the car, but can’t corroborate her version of events. The ticket makes her feel powerless and becomes completely disruptive of her life. Perhaps when it is all behind her, she can move on. Retrograde is part of the Breakout section.

Be Right Back, directed by Frauke Havermann, gives us a bizarre collection of people living in the woods, each with their own routines and idiosyncrasies. When their food disappears, they each head into the forest, but it only gets stranger. This is very interesting visually. Be Right Back is part of the Breakout section.

The Cuban – Jazzy Memories

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“We can’t change the past. All we have left is our future.” The past and future are not so much what Sergio Navarretta’s The Cuban focuses on. Rather it calls us to find life in the present.

Mina (Ana Golja) is a young Afghan-Canadian pre-med student who is working at a nursing home. She is tasked with feeding one of the patients who has Alzheimer’s. Luis Garcia (Louis Gossett Jr.) spends his day staring blankly. Because he reacts violently in frustration, he doesn’t eat with the other residents. Mina notices a poster on his wall of a Cuban jazz musician. She remembers that music from her grandfather’s home when she was a child. She notes that as she hums music that Luis becomes a bit more animated. She begins to bring Cuban jazz records to play for him and each time he becomes more engaged. Soon she’s bringing him Cuban food as well. She’s skirting the rules, but it is paying off. She soon discovers that Luis was a famed Cuban musician.

But when we see Mina’s homelife with her aunt (Shohreh Aghdashloo), we discover that Mina is less interested in being a doctor than her aunt. It is the aunt’s dream that she expects Mina to live out. She is concerned about Mina’s future, but not with Mina’s desires. (Mina is more interested in music.) It is the aunt who voices the quote above. The aunt had been a doctor in Afghanistan, but now is an administrator at the nursing home. As an immigrant, she was not credentialed to practice medicine, but she did the best she could to provide a home and opportunity for Mina. She may feel a bit like a martyr for her sacrifice.

But the contrast is really when we see Mina’s relationship with Luis. Here is a man who has seemingly lost his past, and has no hope of a future. With neither, he is stuck in a present of emptiness. The music and food that Mina brings him begins to draw out his memories—some happy, some not. It is the interplay of Luis’s past and Mina’s possible future that creates a meaningful present.

The film is a little bit cluttered with side stories of Mina entering into a romance, and with battles with the nursing home staff (which are a bit stereotypical). Those subplots take away some needed exploration of Mina’s memories of her family and how that impacts her situation vis-à-vis her aunt.

The film does offer some wonderful bits of Cuban jazz. Some of those involve getting into Luis’s mind as the music awakens him, taking him back in time to New York clubs, and also cruising in Havana. The music adds a sense of joy and life to the film, that focuses so much on people who are stuck in a life that is not their choosing. But throughout the film we find that the music, so based in the past, is what brings meaning into the lives of these characters.

The Cuban is available on Virtual Cinema through local arthouses.

Photos courtesy of Brainstorm Media.

If Beale Street Could Talk: Smooth Jazz and Social Commentary

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“Every black person born in America was born on Beale Street, born in the black neighborhood of some American city, whether in Jackson, Mississippi, or in Harlem, New York. Beale Street is our legacy.”

– James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk

Set in early 1970s Harlem, If Beale Street Could Talk tells the story of Tish (Kiki Layne), a young woman who vividly recalls the passion, respect and trust that have deeply connected her to her artist fiancé, Fonny (Stephan James). Having known each other since childhood, the couple dream of a life together, yet their wistful dreams are thrown off-course when Fonny is unjustly arrested for a crime he did not commit.

Based on the book of the same name by James Baldwin, the latest offering from director Barry Jenkins (Moonlight) weaves a complex narrative that entrances as it unravels. Featuring incredible performances throughout (especially from Regina King), Beale Street feels authentic in its portrayal of the African-American experience. Like Moonlight, Jenkins wisely opts to use relative newcomers in most of the key roles, allowing the audience to focus on the performances themselves as opposed to the film’s ‘star power’. While very different than Moonlight, Beale Street continues to showcase Jenkins’ talent as a storyteller and his unique ability to craft engaging and authentic characters.

What’s more, there’s an intrinsic beauty in Beale Street that serves as a reminder of the magnificence of life in the moment. Takes are long and slow moving, characters speak poetically and every scene plays out in such a manner as to make you appreciate every second. In a world where quick cuts and shaky camera work are used liberally to create tension, Beale Street wants you to feel every breath and note offered by its cast. In fact, the film seems to move visually like jazz, carrying the ebb and flow of musical transitions within its dialogue and structure.

While the pacing may frustrate those who are looking for the wildness of modern film, Jenkins makes no apologies for his style. Although the film takes place in 1970s Harlem, the film somehow feels timeless. Through his visual style and lyrical tone, Jenkins not only highlights the tragedies and brokenness of the African-American experience in ’70s America, he also celebrates every moment as part of a vast tapestry of life. The film recognizes that, in the midst of struggle and mourning, there still remains a sense that every second—and every soul—has value and meaning. We know that every moment in life matters, because every moment carries life within it. As a result, Beale Street is somehow both scathing and wondrous at the same time.

In the end, If Beale Street Could Talk, it would undoubtedly speak to the value of every soul that is encompassed within it. Emphasizing every breath and moment as something of value, Beale Street speaks life into the pain and suffering of its characters, offering hope in the midst of hopelessness.

Special features on the Blu-ray combo pack include commentary by director Barry Jenkins, deleted scenes, and the featurette, “If Beale Street Could Talk: Poetry in Motion.”