QCinema 2019: José and System Crasher
Last month's QCinema International Film Festival (Oct. 13-22) gave me the wonderful opportunity to watch 22 contemporary foreign-language films. Two of these films allowed us to see things from a new and different perspective, which, I believe, should be one of the main goals of cinema. You can picture the scenario: You enter the movie-house with a dim or clouded view (literally and figuratively), but after a few hours of watching the film you come out of the theater fully enlightened. That's the ideal scenario. This is actually no different from when you start reading a truly good book.
The first film is "José" (2018, Guatemala), written and directed by the Chinese-born and then USA-immigrant Li Cheng. The film concerns a 19-year-old boy (the title-character) working as an eatery server who engages in an affair with an immigrant construction worker named Luis. In the ordinary, struggling life that he lives in the city of Guatemala together with his deeply-religious mother, José's daily tryst with the handsome and good-natured Luis serves as a welcome detour from the monotonous rhythm of his less-than-average living conditions. Ostensibly, the film deals with a gay love story. In tone and atmosphere, however, the film is not far from being a neo-realist work. We have already seen countless depictions of poor socio-economic conditions in cinema, whether gut-wrenching or romanticized, true-to-life or mere representation. But since we seldom see films coming from the Central American country of Guatemala, it feels like we are seeing the cinematic treatment of the said subject-matter anew.
We may say of the director that he is merely an outsider looking in, and yet we can practically smell the milieu that the film is set in. That is how vivid his depiction is;it is an altogether immersive experience that does not need the help of IMAX to qualify as one. Though it may sound like Contemporary Social Problems and Issues 101, the director takes us on a riveting tour of the recent basic issues pressing Guatemalan society. As is the case with Wong Kar-wai's "Happy Together", the milieu plays a major role in determining the trajectory of the same-sex couple's relationship. José and Luis are bound by it and thus, have to live through it. While we can clearly see the sincerity, love and passion, the ultimate tragedy of the two young men's relationship is the different and conflicting ways that they take in dealing with their lot. While José is already contented and does not think of leaving his hometown, Luis is eager and determined to look for greener pastures elsewhere. The one is like a tree that refuses to be uprooted from where it is standing right now, while the other is like a bird that takes flight from where it is currently at to be able to soar somewhere else. But when it dawns upon José that he may not really be a tree after all, it is just too late: Luis has already taken his flight over a much better field. What could have been a promising relationship eventually ends up being steeped in regret and longing. A film that goes beyond being just another gay love story, "José" is a beautifully-realized poetry of social realism.
Then we have "System Crasher" (2019, Germany), written and directed by Nora Fingscheidt. Winner of the Alfred Bauer Prize in this year's Berlinale (a prize given to films that open new cinematic perspectives), this debut feature is more likely than not one of the most uncomfortable films that you will get to see this year. Anyone of us who has dealt with an extremely difficult and disturbed child or, perhaps, who has someone like that in the family will definitely understand where the film is coming from. Deep in our hearts, we eagerly want the 9-year-old Benni (Helena Zengel, in an incredibly brave and complex performance, given her age) to be saved from being completely sucked down the rabbit-hole, no small thanks to an infantile mother. But the director does not have the pretension of laying out a rose-strewn path to recovery for her young heroine, like every checkbox in a 12-step treatment is comfortably ticked. Fingscheidt is not afraid of confronting the dark possibility that after all else has been done by the people concerned (parents, teachers, mental health professionals, etc.), we may really have here a terribly hopeless case staring at us directly in the face. The damage is so deeply-rooted that any cure and care is destined for nothing. During the screening, I overheard one viewer remark, most probably in exasperation, how the child goes on committing the same terrible acts over and over, seemingly without end. I can only smile and say to myself how the film has successfully made its point.
Unlike other films, this is not some romanticized portrait of mental and emotional disturbance. And unlike other "villainous" children in cinema, the one we have here does not make any apology for her case or aspire towards any sort of redemption. Everything is really unpleasant as it can be, to the point that we cannot bear it any longer. And yet like a disastrous car wreck, we cannot let ourselves look away. We allow ourselves to be confronted by the horror of it all. At some point in the film, Benni literally retrogresses to being like a wild animal in the woods, completely untameable and uncontrollable. Towards the end, the film takes one more daring - and perhaps, controversial - step. Ambiguous as it may appear, does the film's indelible final shot signify something in relation to Albert Camus' question on suicide? Did Benni finally get to attain liberation? What does it tell about the entire state-sanctioned system of care and treatment, about the family and society in general? At this point, the film's title takes on a literal meaning as well.
The first film is "José" (2018, Guatemala), written and directed by the Chinese-born and then USA-immigrant Li Cheng. The film concerns a 19-year-old boy (the title-character) working as an eatery server who engages in an affair with an immigrant construction worker named Luis. In the ordinary, struggling life that he lives in the city of Guatemala together with his deeply-religious mother, José's daily tryst with the handsome and good-natured Luis serves as a welcome detour from the monotonous rhythm of his less-than-average living conditions. Ostensibly, the film deals with a gay love story. In tone and atmosphere, however, the film is not far from being a neo-realist work. We have already seen countless depictions of poor socio-economic conditions in cinema, whether gut-wrenching or romanticized, true-to-life or mere representation. But since we seldom see films coming from the Central American country of Guatemala, it feels like we are seeing the cinematic treatment of the said subject-matter anew.
We may say of the director that he is merely an outsider looking in, and yet we can practically smell the milieu that the film is set in. That is how vivid his depiction is;it is an altogether immersive experience that does not need the help of IMAX to qualify as one. Though it may sound like Contemporary Social Problems and Issues 101, the director takes us on a riveting tour of the recent basic issues pressing Guatemalan society. As is the case with Wong Kar-wai's "Happy Together", the milieu plays a major role in determining the trajectory of the same-sex couple's relationship. José and Luis are bound by it and thus, have to live through it. While we can clearly see the sincerity, love and passion, the ultimate tragedy of the two young men's relationship is the different and conflicting ways that they take in dealing with their lot. While José is already contented and does not think of leaving his hometown, Luis is eager and determined to look for greener pastures elsewhere. The one is like a tree that refuses to be uprooted from where it is standing right now, while the other is like a bird that takes flight from where it is currently at to be able to soar somewhere else. But when it dawns upon José that he may not really be a tree after all, it is just too late: Luis has already taken his flight over a much better field. What could have been a promising relationship eventually ends up being steeped in regret and longing. A film that goes beyond being just another gay love story, "José" is a beautifully-realized poetry of social realism.
Then we have "System Crasher" (2019, Germany), written and directed by Nora Fingscheidt. Winner of the Alfred Bauer Prize in this year's Berlinale (a prize given to films that open new cinematic perspectives), this debut feature is more likely than not one of the most uncomfortable films that you will get to see this year. Anyone of us who has dealt with an extremely difficult and disturbed child or, perhaps, who has someone like that in the family will definitely understand where the film is coming from. Deep in our hearts, we eagerly want the 9-year-old Benni (Helena Zengel, in an incredibly brave and complex performance, given her age) to be saved from being completely sucked down the rabbit-hole, no small thanks to an infantile mother. But the director does not have the pretension of laying out a rose-strewn path to recovery for her young heroine, like every checkbox in a 12-step treatment is comfortably ticked. Fingscheidt is not afraid of confronting the dark possibility that after all else has been done by the people concerned (parents, teachers, mental health professionals, etc.), we may really have here a terribly hopeless case staring at us directly in the face. The damage is so deeply-rooted that any cure and care is destined for nothing. During the screening, I overheard one viewer remark, most probably in exasperation, how the child goes on committing the same terrible acts over and over, seemingly without end. I can only smile and say to myself how the film has successfully made its point.
Unlike other films, this is not some romanticized portrait of mental and emotional disturbance. And unlike other "villainous" children in cinema, the one we have here does not make any apology for her case or aspire towards any sort of redemption. Everything is really unpleasant as it can be, to the point that we cannot bear it any longer. And yet like a disastrous car wreck, we cannot let ourselves look away. We allow ourselves to be confronted by the horror of it all. At some point in the film, Benni literally retrogresses to being like a wild animal in the woods, completely untameable and uncontrollable. Towards the end, the film takes one more daring - and perhaps, controversial - step. Ambiguous as it may appear, does the film's indelible final shot signify something in relation to Albert Camus' question on suicide? Did Benni finally get to attain liberation? What does it tell about the entire state-sanctioned system of care and treatment, about the family and society in general? At this point, the film's title takes on a literal meaning as well.
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