ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

Official Oscar entry

Fear – When I was a stranger…

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“We are hospitable people—but Bulgaria belongs to Bulgarians.”

What does it mean to welcome the stranger? It seems to be a lost value in the world today. Ivaylo Hristov’s Fear shows that xenophobia is present in Bulgaria, but we know this is not something that is limited to that nation. Fear was Bulgaria’s official submission for Best Foreign Feature consideration.

Svetla has been widowed and alone for several years. She lives in a village near the Turkish border. She has just lost her job as a teacher because her town doesn’t have enough children. One day, while hunting rabbits, she comes across Bamba, a refugee from Mali, who is trying to get to Germany. When she takes him to the police, they don’t care because they have their hands full with a recent group of Afghan refugees. Svelta brings him home until she can find something to do with him.

These two people don’t even have a common language. (Bamba only speaks English.) This creates some interesting, disjointed conversations as each responds to what they think the other is saying. Bamba, who is also alone, having lost his family, finds sanctuary in Svetla’s house. Svetla finds a companion that fills the emptiness in her life.

The community is less accepting of Bamba’s presence. They write graffiti on Svetla’s house. The sign a petition. They break windows. They kill her dog. No one wants this person who is so different around. But for Svetla, this is a time to take a stand. All her life, she has feared being different or not accepted. She will not stand it any longer.

The film’s title can be read many ways. It is certainly about the fear of the stranger. But it also can be seen in the fear the community tries to create in Bamba and Svetla. It also comes into play when Svetla talks about the fear she has lived with.

In a world that is filled with refugees, the idea of welcoming the stranger is not a theoretical issue. Many countries in Europe are struggling to come to terms with those coming from Africa and from the Middle East. And sadly, in the last week, a great migration from Ukraine. In the US, we struggle with dealing with those coming from Latin America. The influx of people can create difficulties for the countries involved. How do we provide for those in need? How will they affect our economy? What will they take from us? What will they give to us?

There is an interesting comparison in the film between Bamba’s situation and that of the group of Afghans captured by the police. Prior to arresting them, the police had a TV crew looking for something newsworthy in it. The police chief downplayed the danger from the refugees. They didn’t bring drugs. They weren’t violent. They weren’t sick. The main concern after the capture was finding housing for them until they could be taken elsewhere. But the locals just see them as “gypsies”.

We don’t get to know any of this group. No one seems to care about them except in the abstract. But we do get to know Bamba. We know what he could contribute to the community if allowed. But the others only see as far as his skin and language. And the skin seems to be a barrier that the others are not willing to overlook.

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus speaks of the Judgment as dividing sheep and goats, one of the criteria is “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (or not). In this he is reinforcing the teaching of the Torah: “You shall also love the stranger” [as God does]. This is not just an issue of national policy or communities. It is about how we each react to the strangers in our midst. Xenophobia can involve race, religion, sexual orientation, language, disabilities, and many other ways that people are different from us. Will we fear those differences, or welcome the strangers we meet each day?

Fear is available on Virtual Cinema and VOD.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Brighton 4th – Debts to be paid

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“I wrestled all my life. How could I not wrestle for you?”

Brighton 4th, directed by Levan Kouashvili, is Georgia’s official submission for Best International Feature Film. It won awards at the Tribeca Film Festival for Best International Narrative Film, Best Screenplay, and Best Actor. It is a story of a father’s love and the length he will go to redeem his son.

Kakhi, a former wrestling champion, travels to New York to visit his son, Soso. (Kahki is portrayed by Levan Tadaishvili, a former Olympic and world champion wrestler in the 1970s.) When he arrives, he discovers that Soso is not studying medicine, as was thought. Rather, he is living is the Russian immigrant community of Brighton Beach in Brooklyn. (Many of the people in the film are non-professional actors from the community.) The boarding house he’s in is a friendly community of emigres who all came to the US with hope of a new life, but have never caught hold of the American Dream. They hold on to their past culture because they can’t really adapt. To make matters worse, Soso has run up a $14,000 gambling debt with local Russian mobsters, and the money is due.

As the film progresses, it touches on other aspects of the difficulties these immigrants deal with, such as employers who don’t pay them and threaten to call Immigration. The film sets these up with a certain dark humor.

Kakhi will go to great lengths to try to help Soso get out of debt, and possibly have a new chance to start over. He is even willing to put himself on the line. At his age, though, he is not the man he used to be. Kakhi is a man of integrity and honor, but above all, he is a father who does not give up on his son, even when he seems beyond redemption.

Kakhi is a man who exhibits grace, not only toward his son, but with everyone he interacts with. He is forgiving and kind. He offers hope to those who seem to have given up, or who long for home but cannot go back. But above all, he is fully concentrated on saving his son, at any cost.

Brighton 4th is in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Kino Lorber

The Worst Person in the World – Elusive happiness

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“I’m standing on the sideline of my own life.”

Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World is Norway’s submission for Best International Feature and has been shortlisted for Oscar consideration. Renate Reinsva was honored at Cannes as Best Actress. Trier, in comments before the Sundance screening, called this a Scandinavian take on romantic comedy, noting that this is the land of Ingmar Bergman. It certainly has the elements of romcom, but it also has existential darkness.

The film follows Julie (Reinsva) over a four year period arranged in 12 chapters (plus prologue and epilogue). In the prologue we hear her wonder when her life was supposed to start. Each section of the film shows us a bit more of her search for what her life should be. We see her fall in love with Aksel (Anders Danielsen Lie), who is ten years her senior. She moves in with him and all is well, until she meets Eivind (Herbert Nordrum), who is married. Their relationship begins with a sensual, flirtatious game of defining what constitutes cheating (a game that by its nature is cheating).

In a key chapter, as Julie marks her 30th birthday, she considers what her mother was doing when she was thirty—and her mother—and her mother…. While the role of women has changed over all those years, we can’t help but notice that Julie really has nothing permanent in her life. She may seem free, but without really committing to a man or career or much of anything, she continues to be rudderless.

While the romcom vibe is very real, this is much more a thirties coming-of-age tale. Julie is so engaging and vibrant (because of Reinsva’s performance) we like her and want her to find happiness and fulfilment. Yet we watch helplessly as she goes from one relationship to the next without finding anything that brings real happiness or meaning to her. It’s not so much that she can’t find what she wants; it’s more a case that she may not even know what she wants in life, work, or relationships.

It is also an exploration of the interplay between freedom and commitment. Julie constantly acts to be free from the restraints of commitment, yet she seems to long to have more to her life than she can have on her own. For all the sybaritic joy that fills her life, there is a sense that she is lost in a world that values connections with others.

The Worst Person in the World returns to theaters February 4.

Drive My Car – A Story of Stories

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“If we hope to truly see another person, we have to start by looking within ourselves.”

Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car is built around the power of storytelling—imagined stories, dramatic stories, and personal stories. The film is based on short stories by Haruki Murakami, but also includes a good deal of Anton Chekhov’s play Uncle Vanya, with which the characters in the film have emotional parallels. Drive My Car, Japan’s official submission for Best International Feature Film, has been shortlisted for Oscar consideration.

The film opens with actor Yasuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima) listening to his wife Oto (Reika Kirishima) tell an evolving story in their post-coital revery, a story that he will tell her in the morning when she has forgotten it. Theirs is a complex relationship, but is clearly built on love for each other. Kafuku does multi-language productions of plays, Oto makes tapes that he uses to run lines. One day when he returns home unexpectedly, he discovers a secret. It is one that he seems to be able to live with, but when Oto dies suddenly, it leaves that part of his life unresolved.

The film moves ahead two years. Kafuku travels to Hiroshima to direct Uncle Vanya. When he arrives, he discovers that because of legal reasons, he must have a driver. A young woman, Misaki Watari (Toko Miura), is assigned to him. He is reluctant to entrust her with is beloved bright red Saab 900, but gives in. He has an hour commute each day (at his request), he continues to use the tapes of his wife running lines for the play. Only occasionally do Kafuku and Watari interact at the beginning, but they slowly get to know one another and tell each other bits of their stories.

Much of the film is set in the rehearsals for the play, in which Kafuku has cast a young actor to play Vanya—an actor he suspects had an affair with Oto. His process for doing plays in several languages at once is challenging for the cast, but we watch as the play begins to come together.

Some may be put off by the three hour running time of the film, but whereas many films fill up time with special effects and amazing stunts, this is time that is filled with story. This is a film that peals the layers of story back like an onion. As Kafuku and Watari spend the hours in the car, they open themselves to speak of their traumas and sense of guilt and pain. Finally, they must undertake a road trip that will allow them each to see that life goes on in spite of suffering and sorrow. This is, in fact, the same conclusion that Uncle Vanya comes to. (And when we see the troupe perform the final scene from the play on stage, it is captivating and powerful in the way it is done.)

The sharing of stories, not just in the car, but among actors during and after rehearsals, is not small talk. They are the characters “looking within”, and in so doing discovering their own pain and the pain of others. That allows them to find healing.

It is interesting that filming had to be shut down for eight months. There is a coda to the film in which we see Watari in a supermarket in which everyone is masked. That scene continues to give us an ambiguous vision of how this story ends, but by setting that scene in the midst of the pandemic brings the film’s stories into our story. We too may find ourselves dealing with grief, pain, or guilt. But we too have life to live.

Drive My Car is in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Janus Films.

The Pit – Assumptions and secrets

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How often do we try to judge based on assumptions that may not be true? In The Pit, Latvia’s submission for Best International Feature consideration, there are many assumptions that lead the characters to make judgements that may or may not be justified.

Markuss, a ten year old boy who’s been sent to live with his grandmother after his father’s death, is quiet and sullen. He doesn’t want to be here. He’d rather draw than be with people. As the film opens, he’s left a playmate in a pit. She isn’t found until later that night. This immediately turns the community against Markuss and his grandmother. The girl’s mother is pushing for the boy to be deemed dangerous, based on the pictures he draws. Much of the community’s ideas are based on what they know about Markuss’s father, although we don’t really know much backstory until later—including the backstory of the girl being left in the pit.

In avoiding the judgement of the community (and trying to avoid a beat down from the girl’s brother), Markuss discovers the reclusive Sailor, who lives a bit out of town. Sailor was a friend of Markuss’s grandmother in their youth. It turns out that Sailor makes stained glass windows—or at least is working on one. Markuss’s father was Sailor’s assistant at one point, so Markuss feels a connection, and is soon learning about stained glass. But then Markuss is shocked to discover Sailor’s secret.

Various other secrets are revealed as the story works its way to an ending that may be redemptive for Markuss and the community. Each secret reveals the dark sides of the community that is struggling with its vision of itself in the wake of Markuss’s actions.

The film is a combination of three stories by Latvian author Jana Egles. While we may easily separate out the three stories, the combination of the three create a broader picture of the life of this community. The darkness that seems to define the town is not really based in Markuss, but he seems to be carrying the blame for it. Rather, we learn that Markuss may be the one character who will bring something good to the community.

The Pit is available on Film Movement Plus.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Sanremo – Filling Emptiness

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“Each day is a new day. We get up each morning and start again.”

That is especially true for the characters in Sanremo from director Miroslav Mandić. As dementia removes memories, it can make each day a horror, a challenge, or a wonder. Sanremo is Slovenia’s entry for Best International Film Oscar consideration.

Bruno and Duša live in the same senior home. At times they connect for breakfast, on in the arts room, or doing exercises. They enjoy each other, but each time it is as if they are meeting for the first time.

Bruno is a wanderer. When alone his mind goes back to his home, his wife, and his dog. He often escapes the facility and goes off to feed his long-gone dog. Duša is a bit more in a fog. She goes along with whatever activities are available. Bur she revels in the lawn sprinklers, standing in them looking up in wonder. Later, she does the same in a snowfall.

There is a poignancy to this story. It’s not quite a romance, but these two people with empty lives manage to find each other and enjoy one another, but cannot create an ongoing relationship. Yet, we sense that when they are apart, they feel the absence of the other, even if they don’t know what it is they miss.

There is great loss for these characters, to be sure. But as we watch Duša, we sense that there is a blessing in being able to be astonished by such simple things as water and snow. The world around us can indeed be hard and challenging. But sometimes, amidst those trials, we may be able to find something that will kindle wonder within our souls.

Sanremo is available on Film Movement Plus.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Blanco en Blanco: Cold Dark World

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Blanco en Blanco, Chile’s submission for Best Foreign Film Oscar consideration, takes us into the cold, dark, empty environment of Tierra del Fuego at the turn of the 20th century. Director Théo Court creates a world in which the land and the people share a soul-numbing desolation.

The film centers on Pedro, a photographer, who has been hired to come to this remote area to take a wedding photo of the landowner’s soon to be child bride, Miss Sara. Strangely, the land owner, Mr. Porter, is absent throughout the movie, always busy on other business. This area, at the southern tip of South America is very much the end of the earth. As Pedro must wait for the wedding to take place, he is caught up in seeing the world around him. He discovers it is filled with people who are just as cold, dark, and empty as the land around them. He also discovers, and in time participates in, the genocide against the indigenous people of the area.

This languidly paced film is more than anything an example of excellence in cinematography. Whether inside the big house, or in the surrounding countryside, earth tones or stark white and grays fill the screen to show us the emptiness that defines the land and the people. This is a world that even in its violence, lacks any sense of passion. Pedro, especially seems to be nearly emotionless. He just exists. His only real concern is how to stage a photo perfectly (not unlike the centrality of cinematography in this film). Some of the most interesting shots are those that we see through his camera.

Of course, the social commentary of the film is about the colonialism that destroys those who have lived in this land for so many generations. When Pedro is asked to document the work being done, he is told that they are making history here by creating a homeland. (Obviously, a homeland for Europeans. It is already a homeland, but by those not recognized as true people.) Just as Pedro poses Miss Sara to make the young girl look sexually appealing, he later poses the corpses of the murdered people and their hunters to make the scene look noble. It reminds us that there is often much more behind the images we see than we know.

Blanco en Blanco is in limited release.

Photos courtesy of Outsider Pictures.

Quo Vadis, Aida? – Helplessness

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“I’m doing everything within my power.”

Quo Vadis, Aida? is a fictionalized story based on true events during the Bosnian War. Directed by Jasmila Žabanić, it has been nominated for an Oscar in the Best International Feature Category. It was submitted by Bosnia and Herzegovina. It recounts the fall of the town of Srebrenica and the resulting genocide carried out by the Serbian army.

Aida Selmanagić (Jasna Đuričić) is a Srebrenica school teacher who is serving as a translator for UN peacekeeping forces. The colonel leading the Dutch military contingent has been assuring the people of the town that they are protected and that the UN is prepared to attack the Serbs if they try to take the city. But when the Serbs come, the UN fails to carry out the threats of their ultimatums. The people evacuate the city, four or five thousand get inside the Dutch compound, but several thousands more are outside the compound seeking safety within. Aida is safe as an employee of the UN, but her husband and sons are outside the walls.

As an insider to the negotiations, Aida has information that the rest of her community does not have. She manages to find a way to get the family inside, but even then, the situation continues to deteriorate as the impotence of the UN forces becomes more and more obvious.

This is a film about helplessness. We especially see it in Aida as she struggles to save her family, but it is also true for the Dutch military leaders. They have been left out to dry by NATO and UN political decisions. When the colonel in charge tries to call up the command chain, he is told no one is available. Many times throughout the film, military people and Aida are pushed to tell people things they know are not true. The colonel admits early on, “I’m just a piano player.” (I.e., he’s only a messenger.) That is often the role that Aida finds herself in as well. Bringing messages that have no real force or meaning.

Aida is stuck in the middle—between her job and her family and the wider community. The Dutch are in the middle, delivering flaccid threats, then having to follow orders and regulations rather than saving lives.

When in school and learning to identify themes in literature, one of those overall themes that frequently recur is “Man’s inhumanity to man”. That phrase seems inadequate to describe genocide. We watch it play out, seeing the faces of so many we know to be doomed, and discovering that even those who care about what is happening are helpless to stop it. The film really doesn’t look at the geopolitical background. That would just be a diversion. The reality is that the world, like Aida, seems to be powerless in the face of the evil of such strife.

Quo Vadis, Aida? is playing in theaters, through virtual cinema, and on Hulu.

Hope – The Possibility of Light in the Darkness

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“You don’t have to love me just because I’m dying. But I need to know that you’ll help me.”

A diagnosis of terminal cancer inevitably brings upheaval and stress into any family. Hope, Norway’s official Oscar Submission for Best International Feature Film (it made the shortlist, but wasn’t nominated), is an intimate and intense look at the dynamics within a family, and especially between spouses in such a troubling time.

Anja (Andrea Bræin Hovig) and Tomas (Stellan Skarsgård) have been together for many years. They have three children together as well as three from Tomas’s first marriage. They have built very separate lives through the years, but have managed to stay together (although not married). A few days before Christmas, Anja learns that she has a brain tumor, likely a metastasis from her earlier lung cancer. Such tumors are invariably fatal.

The film follows Anja and her family through a very difficult eleven day period. They try to keep the diagnosis secret through the holiday, but with Anja’s reaction to the steroids she’s been put on, it becomes necessary to reveal the truth. She is struggling with thoughts of mortality, but also with concern for her children, especially her teenage daughter. Tomas and Anja also must deal with questions within their relationship and how their lives have evolved over the years. All the while they must deal with holidays with friends and with various medical appointments to determine any steps to be taken if there is to be any hope of survival.

At the very beginning of the film is a note that says. “This is my story as I remember it.” The film is based on director Maria Sødahl’s experience of getting such a diagnosis. (Obviously, she recovered.) That is what makes the film such an intimate portrayal of a very trying time in her life. As Anja struggles through such tumultuous times, trying to deal with holidays, family, drugs side effects, and the frustrations of even a good medical system, we can see something of the reality Sødahl lived.

The setting of the Christmas/New Year holidays is interesting because those are days we associate with hope—whether it involves Christmas presents or the dawning of a new year. But for Anja and Tomas, much of what they are seeing is hopelessness. Doctor after doctor tells them there is no hope—only short-term remedies.

That makes the film’s title stand out. This is a film in which hope, while it seems so elusive, is central to the characters’ lives. Hope, as it plays out in the film, is not just about a possible medical outcome. It applies to the future of Tomas’s and Anja’s children. But the real focus of hope that we see here is on healing the rift in the relationship between Tomas and Anja that has grown through years of distraction and routine. If they have only a little time left together, will it be a time of love or only struggle?

The film leaves all its questions unresolved, and in so doing it challenges us to consider our own level of hope.

Hope is available in theaters and through virtual cinema.

Photos courtesy of KimStim Films.

A Few of International Feature Oscar Hopefuls

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Every country (except the U.S.) can submit one film for Oscar consideration for Best International Feature Film. How a country makes that choice varies. There are certain criteria, including how much English is allowed. The Academy has a process through which the films are reviewed eventually ending up with the five films nominated for the award. In early February the short list (this year it will include 15 films) will be announced.

I have had a chance to see some of the films submitted (either at festivals or through screeners), but still it is only about 1/6 of the list of films hoping for recognition. Here is a look at the ones I’ve seen, with links to our reviews if available.

Denmark: Another Round. Directed by Thomas Vinterberg. A group of friends test a hypothesis that keeping a constant 0.05% blood alcohol level is the key to happiness. Vinterberg is a masterful director and has made this a film of humor and pathos. Screenfish review of Another Round. Since it made my year end top films list, I would obviously be happy for this to get a nomination. (On the Shortlist of possible nominees.)

France: Two of Us tells the story of Nina (Barbara Sukowa) and Madeleine (Martine Chevallier), two retired women who have been romantically involved for decades. Though they spend their daily lives together, their relationship has remained largely in secret over that time, especially to Madeleine’s family. However, when Madeleine suddenly falls ill, their relationship is turned upside down and Nina must find a way to hide their secret while also caring for the woman that she loves. Directed by Fillipo Meneghetti, Two of Us is a powerful and heartbreaking piece that puts the wildness of love on full display. Well-written and earnestly performed, Two of Us is a simple film about what it means to care for someone so deeply that you’ll do anything to support them in their time of need. 

Hong Kong: Better Days. Directed by Derek Tsang. Chen Nian is trying to prepare for a college entrance exam. She and others face bullying at the school. After an encounter with Xiao Bei, a young street thug, the boy becomes Chen Nian’s protector. Can Chen Nian escape the violence around her, or will she become part of the violence? Well made film, but not as strong as some others. (On the Shortlist of possible nominees.)

India: Jallikattu. Directed by Lijo Jose Pellissery. When a buffalo escapes from the butcher, the whole village goes into action to try to recapture it before it destroys everything. As the day moves into night, the situation devolves to the point we aren’t sure if the animal is the real beast or the people. Interestingly, the film is bookended with title cards with verses from Revelation. (20: 1-3 at the beginning, 19:17-18 at the end). It’s a dark comedy with some very interesting camera and editing work.

Ivory Coast: Night of the Kings. Directed by Philippe Lacôte. Set in an African prison, a new prisoner is named by the convict boss as the new “Roman”, storyteller. On the night of the red moon, the Roman must tell a story that takes all night. There is a sort of Greek chorus that acts out parts of the story. Meanwhile, the boss is near death and a rival faction is hoping to seize power. It has a bit of magical realism. Interesting, but not compelling storytelling. (On the Shortlist of possible nominees.)

Japan: True Mothers. Directed by Naomi Kawase. Six years after a couple adopt a baby boy, they get a phone call from a woman claiming to be his birth mother and wants him back—or money. The film spends a great deal of time on each woman’s story before we get to the conflict and resolution. It may be a little overlong, but still a worthy story. Screenfish review of True Mothers.

Kazakhstan:The Crying Steppe. Directed by Marina Kunarova. The story of the Great Famine that was the result of Soviet policies during the 1920s and 1930s. Although there are some wonderful landscapes, the story is dismal. This is very much a Kazak story that evokes national pride and animosity toward the Soviet system. I would be very surprised to see this make it to the shortlist, let alone a nomination.

Latvia: Blizzard of Souls. Directed by Dzintars Dreiberge. The story of a young Latvian (Latvia was then part of the Russian Empire) who goes off to fight in World War I.  The innocence of youth gives way to the brutality of war. We see the terrible suffering and loss. It also runs through the early stages of Communist Revolution, and the eventual independence of Latvia. It is a very patriotic film. Screenfish review of Blizzard of Souls.

Mexico: I’m No Longer Here. Directed by Fernando Frías de la Parra. Ulises, the leader of Los Terkos , a cambia dance crew in Monterrey, Mexico, must flee to the US after witnessing a drive-by shooting. In Queens, he is lost. He doesn’t know the language. He has no connection to his culture. He’s befriended by a young Asian girl who lets him squat on her grandfather’s roof. His life had been completely centered in cambia, but now there is nothing to give him direction or purpose. To be so alone in New York City is just part of the sorrow we watch in this tragic tale. (On the Shortlist of possible nominees.)

North Macedonia: Willow. Directed by Milcho Manchevski. This is a trio of stories that focus on motherhood. All three stories focus on women who had trouble conceiving. The first, set in medieval times, is a peasant woman who goes to a crone for help. When, after the child comes, the couple isn’t willing to pay the high price, tragedy waits. The second couple (in modern times) finally conceive twins, but again tragedy will bring darkness into the marriage. The third story focuses on the sister of the woman in the second story, who adopted a child after years of trying to conceive. But there may be something wrong with the child. Very well done chance to think about love, motherhood, and striving for happiness.

Peru: Song Without a Name. Directed by Melina León. A young pregnant indigenous woman learns of a clinic in the city that will provide free maternity services. When she gives birth, however, they steal her baby for foreign adoption. In her grief she works with a journalist to seek the government’s help. The film has some wonderful scenes of the indigenous cultural arts. A very moving story of people who are treated as invisible and worthless by society. A very good film. Screenfish review of Song Without a Name.

Portugal: Vitalina Verela. Directed by Pedro Costa. A very measured, slow-moving film that has extraordinary s cinematography of light and shadow and the use of a static camera. A Cape Verdean woman whose husband left her 25 years earlier to work in Portugal, arrives in Lisbon to discover he was buried three days before. She learns bits of his life as she moves around the immigrant slum. The life they had in Cape Verde seems much preferable to what she finds here. A faithless priest reflects on the darkness of life here.

Romania: Collective. Directed by Alexander Nanau. Documentary about the aftermath of a fire at a Bucharest nightclub. Many of the victims died of infections they got in the hospital. Investigative journalist began to trace the governmental corruption. An amazing part of the film is that the new health minister gave the filmmaker total access. This is a film about the importance of the press to confront governmental lies. Very good doc. It would certainly be worth consideration in both this category and in the documentary category. Screenfish review of Collective. (On the Shortlist of possible nominees.)

Slovakia: The Auschwitz Report. Directed by Peter Bebjak. The story of two prisoners who seek to escape and bring information of what is going on to the outside world. The first half of the film takes place in the concentration camp, where following their escape, the other prisoners suffer increasing punishment. The second half is their journey to get across the border and report. But even then, their reports of the horrors are met with deep scepticism.

Spain: The Endless Trench. Directed by Jon Garaño, Aitor Arregi, and Jose Mari Goenaga. Based on true events, this is the story of a man who, with his wife’s help, hides in his house for over 30 years. During the Spanish Civil War, he escaped capture by the Nationalists and found his way home where he first hid in a hole under a cabinet, and later in a narrow room created by a false wall. Even after the war, through World War II and beyond, he is considered a war criminal until an amnesty is declared in 1969. The stresses of the confinement play out in their lives. They live in constant fear, even when it is time to come out of hiding. An excellently done film about the confines we often must deal with in our lives. It’s easy to extrapolate to the COVID-19 world.

Sudan: You Will Die at Twenty. Directed by Amjad Abu Alata. When a local holy man prophesizes that a child will die when he turns twenty, he begins with a sheltered life, but even after he begins to learn the Quran, his life is geared around his impending death. The entire village believes this is God’s will—except for a photographer who has recently returned from traveling the world. Can the boy find a way to live fully? Screenfish review of You Will Die at Twenty.

Switzerland: My Little Sister. Directed by Stéphanie Chuat and Véronica Reymond. A woman tries to give her actor twin brother one more time on stage before he dies. Her efforts could well cost her a very high price. The film is really about the bond that the siblings share. Screenfish review of My Little Sister.