ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

UK

Running Naked – Days of Vain Life

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“Benjamin Taylor is leaving living today.”

Sometimes it takes the specter of death to bring light into life. Running Naked, from director Victor Buhler, is a feel-good dramedy that helps us see the beauty in life, even if we know that life is finite. Perhaps that finitude helps us see the meaning of it all.

As teenagers, Mark and Ben (Samuel Bottomley and James Senneck) were roommates in a cancer ward as they underwent treatment. The two would push against the confines of their situation. They plotted an escape from the hospital, only to discover there was nothing to do after they succeeded. Their highlight was a one lap race around the hospital floor au naturel.

Sixteen years later, Mark (Mathew McNulty) is an oncologist trying to bring hope and happiness to the teenage patients who are going through their own treatments. Ben (Andrew Gower) has become a reclusive, nervous nerd. Ben is plagued by OCD and a phobia of hospitals. He has a job in a basement that most people in the company don’t even know is there. Yet, through the years Ben and Mark have gotten together every Wednesday night.

When tests show a return of the cancer for one of them, Mark sets out to give Ben the life he has been missing all these years. With only a bit of time, the two reinvent their lives to discover the richness of life all around them, and finding joy and love that give meaning to days whether short or long. It also tests their friendship when they have to come to terms with changes in perspectives.

While not a outwardly religious story, there are places along the journey that allow us to reflect briefly on spiritual issues. For example, when the two men go to a dog track (where they won £50 as kids), Ben, at the last minute, chooses to put their money on a long shot, Hope Eternal. Later, we see the two, both as teens and as adults, sitting in the hospital chapel contemplating the words on the wall, “I will never forget you. I have written your name on the palms of my hands.” (Isaiah 49:16)

Although the Book of Ecclesiastes is never mentioned or quoted, the film is firmly rooted in the wisdom found there. The book’s key theme, stated in Ecc. 1:2, is “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity!” It moves from a view of the world that is meaningless and repetitious (as Ben has been living) but through a search for wisdom, the writer discovered that the meaning of life is to “Enjoy life . . . all the days of your vain life that are given you under the sun, for that is your portion in life.” (9:9)

The film serves as a reminder that we too often get bogged down in the vanities of life when we are meant to be seeking the beauty and joy that surrounds us—even in seemingly dark times.

Running Naked is available on VOD.

Photos courtesy of Trinity Creative Partnership.

Hurt by Paradise – Life in the Tone of Melancholy

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Life is often about chasing after dreams. But is the chase itself enough to make for a complete life? In Greta Bellamacina’s Hurt by Paradise, we watch two women who are chasing after dreams that are probably beyond their grasps. Should we see this as a celebration or with pity—or both?

Celeste Blackwood (played by director Bellamacina) is a single mother of a toddler. She is striving to find acceptance as a poet. She writes long, maudlin verses about a father she doesn’t know. She is working her way through all the Blackwoods in the phone book trying to connect with that missing part of her life. She describes him as not having left them, but taking a break. Publishers vary in their treatment of her and her poetry. One tells her poetry just doesn’t sell, she should try fiction. Another is more truthful and blunt: her poetry just isn’t good.

Celeste’s neighbor and best friend Stella Mansell (Sadie Brown, who co-wrote with Bellamacina) sees herself as a actress, although her acting ability is of about the same caliber as Celeste’s poetry. She has been in a one-year texting relationship with a man she has never met, but has fallen in love with. When Stella heads off to the seaside to meet her beloved, Celeste follows to rescue her from what seems a sure disaster. In the process the women discover a common bond that shows them what they have been searching for is not a cure for their troubles.

The invitation I received from a publicist about this film called it “the British Francis Ha”. It certainly has that feel as we watch these women trying to define themselves by their own self-understanding rather than by the way the world sees them. It also is a similar blend of their search for happiness, and the melancholy of their reality. Although for me, the melancholy is dominant.

I think the film’s value is found in the questions we might ask ourselves about our reactions to the women. There is a certain pain in knowing they will not achieve their life goals—especially since they both seem oblivious to that fact. But could it be enough that they find happiness in their striving, even if it seems doomed to failure? Does success have to be defined by meeting society’s expectations? How we feel about the film could be a reflection on our own attitudes about what makes a fulfilling life.

Hurt by Paradise is available on VOD.

Photos courtesy of Moviehouse Entertainment.

Reporting from Slamdance – Narrative Features (Part 1)

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I want to use this report to touch on a few of the films that are part of the Narrative Feature section at the Slamdance Film Festival. I’ve got to admit that as I’ve been focusing on shorts for a bit, it took a bit of a mental shift to wait for a story to develop. But watching films is sort of like riding a bike, it comes back to you quickly.

A film with a somewhat off-putting title was far more engaging than I expected. Taipei Suicide Story, directed by KEFF, takes place in a specialty hotel—it caters to people who want to die. The desk clerk is informed by one of the cleaning crew that there is a guest in one of the rooms who has been there a week and still alive. When he goes up and finds a young woman who explains that when she arrived, she knew that everyone there was like her, so she no longer felt alone. She no longer needed to die, but she also didn’t want to live. He tells here she has one last night to either die or leave. As the night progresses, the two spend some time together talking—connecting. Will this be the push she needs to end it all or to choose life? How will her decision affect the clerk?

While the film is very brief for a feature (48 minutes), it pulls us into the strange world of the hotel. The daily cleaning service is obviously much different than the hotels we visit. There are some bits of very dark humor that just show up as seemingly throwaway lines. (She’s contemplating buying some instant noodles, and he suggests there are healthier options.) But mostly we are drawn to these two people who are meeting on what may be the last day they will be together. I was a little surprised how much I liked this.

In A Brixton Tale matters of race and class complicate a relationship between two young people. Leah, a young vlogger from a well-to-do family connects with Benji, a shy black young man from the Barrier Block. and uses Benji as the subject of a videoed documentary on Brixton. They become close and are falling in love. But when Benji sees the way she’s edited his life, he feels (rightfully so) that he’s been used. When someone posts a sex video of Leah online, she and Benji seek revenge, and the violence ends up greater than they had planned, but given their social disparity we know that Benji will pay the price.

There are levels here. The film is a minor indictment of voyeuristic filmmaking that wants to show a gritty side of life that the filmmakers are not part of. When we see Leah’s film exhibited to a very upscale crowd, we know that they care more about the quality of the film that the quality of life that Benji lives. It also points out the discrepancy of hope for the two characters, especially when legal troubles come. A Brixton Tale is making its world premiere at Slamdance.

The Polish film Hurrah, We Are Still Alive, directed by Agnieszka Polska, is a noirish story of a group of “socially engaged” filmmakers who are in a holding pattern as they await the return of “the director”. Even in his absence, he seems to have some effect on what is going on in their lives. In part this is because he has taken some of the money left with the group by the Movement (a revolutionary organization) to “invest” to finance his movie about Rosa Luxemburg.  When a woman from the Movement shows up wanting the money, she reconnects with one of the actresses. Some cowboy police officers are also threatening the group. But we also know that an enforcer is being called in—from two different directions.

There is a certain Waiting for Godot vibe to this plot, but without bowler hats or the existential reflection. But there is a sense that all these people are lost and floundering in the director’s absence. It has places where it gets a bit to artsy (especially a few interludes with a rose and blood in the early part of the film that don’t seem to fit with anything). But the noirish feel is well done.

Photos courtesy of Slamdance Film Festival.

Small Axe – West Indian Joys and Pain

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Some stories and the worlds they bring to us are too big for a single film. Sometimes that means trilogies or ongoing sequels without end (like Star Wars). But for Steve McQueen to bring us a vision of the world he grew up in, it required the Small Axe anthology. This is a series of five films, most of which are based in real stories, set in the West Indian community in London in the 60s through 80s. Each film is independent of the others. They each have their own tone. But they also have a common thread in that they reflect the life of strangers in a strange land trying to establish their lives and maintain their roots.

It’s a bit challenging to know how to treat such an anthology. Many of the individual films are being named by various critics in their yearend lists. The Los Angeles Film Critics Association named the anthology as Best Picture. When you first see Small Axe on Prime video (where it is streaming), it looks like a series with one season of five episodes. In reality the anthology is individual films that all hold their own, but they manage through those stories to create something greater than the sum of its parts.

Although the films don’t require watching in sequence, I’ll follow the order of the episodes as they are numbered on Prime.

Mangrove is the story of an important court case in England involving a group called the Mangrove Nine. Frank Crichlow and others were put on trial for riot and affray after a demonstration against police harassment of his restaurant, Mangrove. In their defense, they are able to show that there was racial bias in the police force and the entire legal system. It was the first time the courts took note of such bias. A key quote: “We must become the sheperds of our own destinies.”

Lovers Rock shows us a night at a music party. This is an evening filled with music, weed, hormones, and above all, vitality. This is not so much about plot as it is about being pulled in to the experience. There is a ten-minute (!) scene built around the song “Silly Games” that is astounding on many levels. It captures the love of life, the hopes and joys of that community.

A key quote: “You can’t wear church shoes to a blues dance.” (Well, it turns out you can.)

Red, White and Blue is the story of Leroy Logan who as a boy saw his father assaulted by police and as a young man joined the police force seeking to change it from within. It’s not really surprising that he not only runs into resistance to change, but is also the target of the systemic racism. A key quote: “You wanted us more British than the British.”

Alex Wheatle is based in the true story of the title character who becomes a very successful writer of YA books. He was abandoned by parents early on and grew up in children homes and the foster system. As a young man he begins to find his place in the world of music. But when he ends up in jail, his cell mate pushes him to find his roots and build his life from there. A key quote: “Boy, you have to find out who the f*** you is.” (That might well serve as the overall quote for the anthology.)

Education looks at the discrimination toward West Indian children in the school system. The schools very quickly moved children who had learning or behavioral problems to “special schools”. That doesn’t sound too bad, until we discover that the schools didn’t bother to help them learn or often even provide classroom supervision. A group begins to unite the parents to fight the system and save their children from a bleak future. McQueen himself was funneled off to a special school. A key quote: “There is nothing special about his school.”

The stories are filled with struggle and pain, but also with joy, community, family, and hope. There is a vibrancy to their celebrations, just as there is anguish in their struggles for justice and a chance to fulfill the dream that brought them to the UK. Throughout the series, there are various stories that come up from the West Indies or African culture that add even more texture to the stories that McQueen is setting before us.

The title for the anthology comes from a Wailers song. The chorus includes, “If you are the big tree/ we are the small axe/ sharpened to chop you down.” In every culture, be it the UK or the US or elsewhere, when the oppressed unite, they have the power to shape the future.

Photos courtesy of Amazon Prime Video

Mangrove – Demanding Justice

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“We must become the shepherd of our own destinies”

Mangrove, the opening film of Steve McQueen’s Small Axe anthology, is a tale of racial struggle against police abuse. It is based on the true story of the Mangrove Nine, a group of men and women put on trial in London. (Yes, that’s right, racial prejudice is not the sole possession of America.)

The first half of the film focuses primarily Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes), a Trinidadian immigrant who in 1968 has just opened the Mangrove restaurant in the Notting Hill area of London. It serves the kind of spicy foods preferred by Caribbean people. Almost from the start the police, lead by Police Constable Pulley (Sam Spruell), begin harassing Crichlow and the restaurant. The restaurant becomes a gathering place for the immigrant community. In time they take issue with all the harassment and plan a protest. During the protest, the police attack the crowd. In the aftermath nine leaders of the community are put on trial for the serious charges of riot and affray.

The second half of the film is a courtroom drama. The defendants faced many years in prison. Their very lives were in the balance. And solicitors and barristers told them over and over to trust the system. But the defendants knew that the legal system was just as corrupt as the police. Two of the defendants chose to represent themselves, which allowed them the opportunity to cross-examine witnesses and address the jurors. On the whole, the defense was an attack of the status quo of racial animosity. The trial became the first time the courts made note of the racial discrimination by the police force.

Thereare some comparisons to be made to The Trial of the Chicago 7 in that they occur roughly at the same time, both involve police caused riots, and the trials took on a rebellious tone. But this is by far a much better film.

The Small Axe anthology is a collection of five films by McQueen that focus on the world he grew up in. His parents were from Grenada and Trinidad. At least four of the films are based on actual events and people. It shows the black immigrant society as a vibrant culture of music, color, language, and joyous celebrations—but also frequently hardship because of a racist system.

This film shows some of the different manifestations of racism. (And we need to note that these forms are as relevant in this country as they are in the UK of the film.) The racism that we see in PC Pulley is the kind of blatant racism that repels us. (“The thing about the black man is he has his place. He’s just got to know his place.”). He and other police officers regularly hassle random black people for no reason. In court they suggest that all blacks are “criminal, prostitutes, ponces, and the like”.

But when the film switches to being a courtroom drama, the entire system comes under scrutiny for the ways that racism has been institutionalized, such as the make up of the jury, the way defendants are supposed to put their trust in the “professionals”, and the ways the judge fails to allow them to have voice. This kind of racism can be even more injurious because the system gives the impression of fairness, but often that impression is an illusion.

The film also touches on the responsibility of both intentional and accidental leaders. Crichlow really did not aspire to being a community leader. He just wanted to run his restaurant. He told one of the more strident leaders, “It’s a restaurant, not a battle ground”. But when circumstances continued to escalate, he had to make choices that pushed him into leadership. We also see in Crichlow the struggle of facing the risk that leadership brings. He is torn at times between doing what would be safe and doing what is right.

To do the right thing often is a matter of faith. Throughout the film, the defendants are told to have faith—in the judicial process. They hear it so often it becomes a joke to them that they should expect the system to come through for them. Others suggest that the characters need to have faith in the community to stand in solidarity. But at a crucial time, Frank, unable to sleep, sits on his bed and opens his Bible to a picture of his parents. On the back it reads, “In God you must trust.” There he finds the strength to carry on with what is right.

Mangrove (and the other Small Axe films) are streaming on Amazon Prime.

Photos courtesy of Amazon Studios.

The Keeper -Finding Forgiveness

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Based on a true story, The Keeper, from director Marcus H Rosenmüller, is the story of a German POW who in the post-war years becomes one of the most famous football (soccer to Americans) players in England. Along the way the story looks the difficulty of forgiving both our enemies and ourselves. And there’s a love story.

Bert Trautmann (David Kross) is a German paratrooper who fought most of the war in Poland, earning an Iron Cross. Late in the war, he’s captured by the British and placed in a POW camp in Lancashire. Because he volunteered for the German army and was well decorated, he gets some pretty nasty jobs in the camp. After the war, the POWs were kept there for some time until repatriation could happen.

One day when Jack Friar (John Henshaw) and his daughter Margaret (Freya Mavor) deliver goods to the camp, Friar sees Trautmann tending goal as the prisoners play football. He is exceptional. Friar is the manager of a local football club that is in dire need of improvement. He arranges to have Trautmann work for him so he can use him as a goalie in upcoming matches. The team prospers, and just about the time Trautmann is due to return to Germany, the manager of the Manchester City club offers him a tryout. Around this same time, Trautmann and Margaret marry. (The love story takes up most of the first half of the film.)

It is not easy for a former Nazi to be accepted either by teammates or fans. The issue was multiplied when he began playing in Manchester, which had a sizable Jewish population. In time, a rabbi who had fled Germany wrote an open letter saying that we shouldn’t judge on what we presume, but judge each by their merit. That let Trautmann find some acceptance, and his exceptional play led the team to more victories—eventually winning the FA Cup—a match in which Trautmann played the last 15 minutes with a broken neck.

The film, as is often the case with sports stories, deals with adversity, perseverance, and heroics. But it is also a love story, and that adds another dimension. In fact, this is more love story than sports story. But the issues of adversity, perseverance, and heroics are just as important in that part of the story.

Through the first half of the film, the adversity has to do with Trautmann’s past as a German soldier, and the perception others had of him. As one character tells him, “To me and everyone around me, you’re still the enemy.” Margaret was just as set against Trautmann as everyone else. But as she got to know him, and saw within him someone who had dreams and fears like everyone else, she softened to him.

Later in the film, other problems arise that test Trautmann individually, and him and Margaret as a couple. We learn in bits and pieces through the film some of the ghosts and guilt that haunt Trautmann. Just as Margaret, then fans had to come to term with how they viewed Trautmann’s past, so must he. Often it is much more difficult to forgive oneself that to find forgiveness in others.

There is an interesting side note in this film for people familiar with Christian hymnody (at least for non-British people). In the scene leading up to the famous championship game, we hear the crowd singing “Abide with Me”. It turns out that that is a tradition for the FA Cup Finals dating back to 1927. (I’ve yet to find an explanation.) It seems a strange song to sing prior to a sports match, given that it is a song asking for God’s presence at the time of death. The song is sung again at the end of the film. While the song is included mostly for its association to football, it also fits well at the end of the film because death crops up at various times in the film, as it does throughout our lives. It is a nice reminder of our need for God’s presence, not only when “fast falls the eventide”, but always.

The Keeper is opening in theaters (where open) and on virtual cinema through local arthouses.

Photos courtesy of Beta Cinema.

Sorry We Missed You: When the Work Ethic Doesn’t Work

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“I’ve got to go to work. I have not got a choice.”

We are told that if we work hard, we will find success. For many the “gig economy” seems to be the way they can take control of their lives and find the financial success they need. Ken Loach’s film Sorry We Missed You provides a much darker view. What started off as great hope of a brighter future devolves into a world of desperation.

Ricky (Kris Hitchen) has bounced between jobs since the 2008 economic downturn. He had been in construction. As the film opens, he is interviewing for a job as a delivery driver. It seems exactly what he wants. He will be his own boss, he is told. He won’t be paid wages, he’ll get fees. With hard work he can begin to bring home enough money to get his family back in their own home. But to really make money, he’ll need his own van.

His wife Abby (Debbie Honeywood) is a home health aid. She has a car she uses to go from client to client. But to get Ricky a van, they sell her car, making her rely on buses to make her appointments. The two of them put in long hours—12 to 14 hours a day. Meanwhile their children, sixteen year-old Seb (Rhys Stone) and tweener Liza Jane (Katie Proctor) try to get by. Seb is dark and brooding. He cuts school and paints graffiti. He knows how to push Ricky’s buttons—and does so frequently. Liza Jane strives to be a peacemaker in the home, but what a burden that can be.

When problems arise, Ricky discovers that the “self-employment” he thought his job entailed was really an illusion. There is no flexibility. He must be there every day, or arrange for a replacement. Not doing so results in not just lost pay, but a £100/day fine. Abby also has little flexibility, in part because she is compassionate and caring. When she must do extra work, it is not compensated. As the stresses of work and within the family continue to grow and compound on each other, the characters find themselves in a spiral of despair.

The film is set in Newcastle, as was Loach’s previous film I, Daniel Blake (which won the Palme d’Or at Cannes). It is not a sequel, but could well be seen as a companion piece. Both deal with the trials of the working class trying to get by in an economy that doesn’t care about people, but about bottom lines. Whereas I, Daniel Blake deals with the working-class struggle with a good dose of humor and eventually shows the power of the human spirit in midst of a soul-deadening bureaucracy, Sorry We Missed You is much darker and pessimistic. As the hope that drives Ricky to start this new job slowly evaporates, the stresses on everyone in the family may destroy their loving relationships. And the film does not allow us to walk away with a sense that things will get better.

This is meant to be a troubling film. It calls into question some of the foundational beliefs of our society. As we watch Ricky and Abby work long hours in hope of achieving some financial improvement, we discover that the supposed promise of the work ethic is deceptive. They not only fail to gain on their goals, they become deeper and deeper in debt. That debt is not only financial, but also emotional and spiritual. The work ethic that we see in play here does not elevate workers, but erodes their dignity and threatens their humanity.

Note: This film comes with subtitles, even though it is in the English language. The Northern England dialect can be difficult to understand, so the subtitles are very welcome.

Photos courtesy of Zeitgeist Films in Association with Kino Lorber

Oscar-Nominated Short Documentaries

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When it is time to award the best in films each year, the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences include three categories of short films in their Oscar presentations. Most people don’t get to see many shorts. They play at festivals, and occasionally in front of a feature film. But short films are an art form worth attention. Many (probably most) feature filmmakers started out making short film. To tell a story in such a brief format takes skill. All the Oscar-nominated short films will be playing in theaters in special programs. To see where the films will be playing near you, go to https://shorts.tv/theoscarshorts/theatrical-release/

Here is a look at the five Oscar-nominated short documentaries.

In Black Sheep (UK, 27 minutes, directed by Ed Perkins) a family of Nigerian immigrants moves out of London after another Nigerian boy is killed. Eleven year old Cornelius then discovers their new home is full of violent racists as well. After being beaten, he decides to become more like those who attacked him. He wears blue contact lenses and bleaches his skin. Soon he is accepted by the others, but then he is now part of the violence against blacks. How can he be true to his real identity? The film is told by a now adult Cornelius. His reflections are engrossing as he describes what he became at that time.

My reaction: Something about this film stirred something within me. I could not imagine someone becoming the very thing that injured him, especially to the extent that he did so. I had to take a walk after screening this film to try to clear that imagery and the emotions it brought up for me. That is the power this film held for me.

“We don’t run away from hard stuff. We don’t run away from suffering.” In End Game (USA, 40 minutes, directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman) we go inside two San Francisco institutions that care for the dying: UCSF Medical Center’s Palliative Care Team and the Zen Hospice Project. This is not just a story of hospice care, it shows some of the difficult decisions patients and families face and we hear them and the doctor and other professionals working through those decisions.

My reaction: This is indeed about facing the hard stuff. With death no longer a remote possibility, patients and families often struggle with how they want to spend those last months, weeks, days. The filmmakers treated these stories with respect and compassion. I’m especially grateful for the patients and families that were willing to allow this film to show this most difficult, emotional, and intimate time. This is my favorite among the nominees. End Game is a Netflix film and is currently available to stream.

Lifeboat (USA, 34 minutes, directed by Skye Fitzgerald) focuses on the refugee crisis in the Mediterranean by going with volunteers from the German non-profit Sea-Watch to search for and rescue boatloads of African refugees. In the film they encounter boats filled with about 1000 refugees—boats with no water or power. These are people who have been terribly exploited and are further exploited by the traffickers who have set them adrift. It is not a simple task to rescue them in an orderly fashion. But it is an act of great humanity and compassion. As one of them notes, when you see a crisis at a distance, you see a mass of people. When you get close, you see individuals.

My reaction: A note at the end of the film tells us that 1 out of 18 people who attempt to cross the Mediterranean will drown. When we hear about immigration crises, we often think in terms of the mass of people. (And some would encourage us to fear that mass.) This film reminds us that the crisis is about people who often see the possibility of drowning as preferable to the atrocities of the lives they are trying to escape. Each person—each individual—is a beloved child of God. We should learn to treat them as such.

Patriotism is front and center in A Night at the Garden (USA, 7 minutes, directed by Marshall Curry).  It shows archival footage of a “Pro American Rally” held at Madison Square Garden on February 20, 1039. There were American flags, a huge portrait of George Washington, many Brown Shirts, and Nazi salutes. Just seven months before the start of World War II, 20,000 Nazi supporters were making the case that Americans should support Hitler’s policies. The antisemitism of this group is obvious when we hear speakers. It serves as a reminder that America has often had those who do not accept the diversity that has made the country what it is.

My reaction: A little bit of background would have been helpful. When we hear speakers in the footage, they are always speaking with an accent. This particular rally was held by the German-American Bund. It was a wide-spread movement, but never a particularly large group. But since white supremacy has been become more visible in recent years, it’s worth noting that it has been with us a very long time. That is not to say we should tolerate it, but rather to be sure not to treat it as passing fad.

Girls in India may not have access to what we would think of as basic supplies for menstruation. Period. End of Sentence. (USA, 26 minutes, directed by Rayka Zehtabchi) shows us the dilemma this causes in rural areas, where sometimes girls are shamed to the point of quitting school. The answer put forward here is a machine that allows women in such areas to manufacture and sell inexpensive pads made from local materials. In the process, it provides employment and empowerment for the women involved.

My reaction: First World people often can’t imagine that something like menstruation could create such issues. But when ignorance about such a normal thing (which we see early in the film) exists, it will inevitably cause problems for those who have the least power to fight against it. It is interesting to see something as commonplace (for us) as a menstrual pad to be able to bring such change to lives.

The Escape – Wife and Mother Want Out

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When a woman abandons her family, how are we to understand her? In Dominic Savage’s The Escape, we may be tempted to be judgmental. We may ask if being unhappy is enough of a reason in itself to destroy her family. We may look down at her—or perhaps we may ponder what it is about modern life that brings this unhappiness.

Tara (Gemma Arterton) is a housewife and mother in a London suburb. It’s not a bad life. She has a loving family. There is no cruelty. Her husband (Dominic Cooper) may be a bit self-absorbed and is certainly a selfish lover, but he has provided well for the family. Hers is a life of routine. But she wants something more. One day she makes a bold decision. She grabs her passport and buys a one-way ticket to Paris to seek a new life.

Fifty years ago we might have dismissively referred to Tara as a bored housewife. (I’m sure there are still those who would characterize her in that way.) Twenty years ago, we might have just sighed, “Give her some Prozac.” (Maybe that might not be a bad idea.) But those ways of looking at Tara’s story are essentially judging her without really understanding the forces at work in her.

But this is not a story that seems outlandish. Even women who seem to have a good life often feel unfulfilled. Society has crafted women’s roles that promise happiness, but often don’t deliver on that promise. Being a wife and mother may be important positions within a family, but must a woman bury her own needs and ambitions in the process of fulfilling those roles?

I have to admit that I’m a bit torn in my assessment of Tara in this film. I will grant that often women find themselves in lives that do not provide them with the kinds of stimulation that men would find necessary for happiness. The soul can suffocate within the routines of life that only provide joy for others and never for self. And I think Tara, for all the trappings of the good life, has found herself in such a position.

But there is also room for judgment in how she has chosen to deal with that. And the film puts that judgment in Tara’s own mouth. As she wanders Paris, she gets involved with a flirtatious relationship with Philippe (Jalil Lespert). As the day progresses, they identify that they are both free from commitments and eventually spend the night together. In the morning, Tara discovers that Philippe is married with a family. She says to him, “It’s wrong what you did.” And yet Philippe did nothing that Tara herself was not doing. Yet she seems to miss that she is guilty of the same sins.

The ambivalence the film creates in the viewer may provide us room to think differently about the way women fulfill the roles that they have been assigned. It may also give us a bit more sympathy for those who make choices we may not approve of.

Photos courtesy of IFC Films

Finding Your Feet – Never Too Late for a New Beginning

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It’s never too late to find a new outlook on life and love, at least that is what Finding Your Feet tells us. On the surface, this looks like a date night movie for the Leisure World set. But the wisdom the film imparts can be absorbed by people of any age.

Lady Sandra Abbott’s (Imelda Staunton) life looks rosy. Her husband is retiring from the police where he has risen to Commissioner and received a knighthood. They will have the time to enjoy life and travel. But at his retirement party, she discovers he has been having an affair with her best friend for the last five years. She goes to the only person she can think of, her estranged sister Bif (Celia Imrie) who lives a free-spirited life in public housing. The Odd Couple contrast between the up-tight and proper Sandra and her colorful sister makes for some difficult times, but of course, their time together will be healing for them both.

Sandra isn’t very fond of Bif’s friends, but when she begins to go with her to a community dance class for seniors, she begins to lighten up. When she begins to warm to the working-class Charlie (Timothy Spall), the film shifts into romcom mode, which often works well with people of a certain age, as it does here.

As one who is old enough to live in a retirement community, I can appreciate watching people of this age dealing with the struggles of falling in love at this point in life. I also appreciate the age-specific issues that provide the complications: including cancer, dementia, and grief. But although the film reflects issues that affect seniors more than younger people, in the end what it teaches is applicable for everyone.

This is a story of second chances. Not so much about giving people a second chance as much as being willing to take the risk to find a second chance. Sandra’s life, as rosy as it seemed at the beginning, quickly fell apart. Many of the friends she meets in her new world are all dealing with struggles of one sort or another. Yet as they come together to dance from week to week, they find something new in their lives. They get the opportunity to live with joy, even when there is darkness all around them.

Perhaps what makes this age group so appropriate for a film like this is not that seniors are more likely to face having to start over.  Rather, by the time you reach this age, you may look back and understand that life is filled with these new beginnings. Therein lies the wisdom of the film. It teaches us, no matter our age, that change can bring joy yet again.

Photos courtesy of Roadside Attractions