Monday, April 13, 2009

ANOTHER AMAZING REVIEW FOR "THE POOL"


Chris Smith's THE POOL opened in Ottawa (at the Bytowne Cinema) this past weekend and received further glowing reviews seen below.




OTTAWA XPRESS - ONLINE
April 9th, 2009 Web exclusive!

The Pool
From Goa with love
Cormac Rea


Director Chris Smith's The Pool makes a splash at Sundance

Every now and then a film comes along that combines the simplicity of a well told story - nuanced symbolism, dynamic relationships, and "real" characters creating believable, familiar tension - with the vibrancy of cinematic perspective, evocative setting, and handpicked cast; The Pool, 2007 Winner of the Special Jury Prize at Sundance, is such a deceptively grand production.
Directed by the highly accomplished American, Chris Smith (creator of American Movie, The Yes Men, among others), The Pool takes place in Goa, India - more commonly the province of hedonism for the globe's Trance music brigade - focusing on a local native, Venkatesh, who works as a "room boy," cleaning at a local hotel.

Venkatesh (Venkatesh Chavan) spends his afternoons high in a mango tree, spying on A Secret Garden - esque paradise, complete with a tempting, azure-tinted swimming pool. His curiosity of the outside world is tempered somewhat by his lot in life; being poor and of a low caste in India, the teenage Venkatesh can find little opportunity for advancement or success - his possibilities appear dismally proscribed. Yet, when he is not working in the hotel or helping his best friend Jhangir (Jhangir Badshah), Venkatesh peers over the garden wall again and again, learning of the external through his witness of the complicated lives of its wealthy owners.

Although the plot initially untangles at a meandering rate, gathering steam about a third into the film, Smith's The Pool

is always enjoyable for its carefully measured portrayal of real Goa life. Like Venkatesh, our only glimpse of drug addled ravers is on a single bus-ride, a purposefully contrived scene which is telling in its understatement.

Off the cuff, Jhangir relates a local rumour about suspicious foreign men hanging about with young Indian boys. Venkatesh is skeptical, offering the opinion that many older Indian men also suffer from the same sexual proclivities. Of course, an audience of middle class western people will already have a set of preformed opinions about Venkatesh's Goa, its inhabitants and tourists, through the omnipresent moral eye presented by global media sources. The Pool offers an ironic interpretation of Goa from the proverbial other, the insider: the native son.

Aside from the beautifully developed characters, buoyant plotline and powerful conclusion, The Pool's greatest asset is its employ of subtle sociological commentary, both of western and eastern civilizations. A lingering, naturalistic tale, The Pool's symbols will be enduringly seared in to your frontal lobe long after the final credits roll.

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The Pool is deep
Lovely, languid tale of a poor Indian boy's friendship with a wealthy Indian girl and her family

By LIZ BRAUN, SUN MEDIA
http://www.ottawasun.com/Showbiz/Movies/2009/04/09/9065046.html

The Pool is a rags-to-riches tale of a young man who becomes obsessed with a swimming pool attached to an extravagant country house.

In Goa, a young man becomes obsessed with the swimming pool attached to a big country house. It's a symbol of wealth that he regards with longing.

He decides that the day will come when he'll swim freely in that water; how he gets there and how he changes along the way are at the centre of The Pool, a quiet, naturalistic drama about the unexpected ways in which people connect with one another.

Venkatesh (Venkatesh Chavan) is a 'room boy' of 18 who works at a hotel in Panjim, Goa. His work is scrubbing floors and toilets, and he makes a bit more money selling plastic bags to shoppers at the market. He has a mother who lives far away, and he has a best friend in Jhangir, a 12-year-old orphan. Venkatesh wants to find a way to get the money to go to school, but in the meantime, he and Jhangir like to sit up in a tree and spy on the house and swimming pool of a rich family. Neither boy can figure out how it's possible that someone could be rich enough to have a house he or she would leave empty.

One day, there are people around the pool. After seeing them a few times, Venkatesh finds a way to do a bit of garden work for the house owner. He also encounters the man's rebellious teenage daughter (Ayesha Mohan); in some of the most delightful scenes in the movie, Venkatesh and Jhangir ignore the huge social gap between themselves and this young woman, and simply bombard her with friendship.

The two boys tell her stories about their lives, they buy her lunch, they take her walking to an abandoned fort.

Slowly but surely, the rich man who owns the house (Nana Patekar) develops a paternal affection for Venkatesh. He wants to help Venkatesh better his life, and asks him to move to Bombay -- where he could both work and go to school. With his dreams about to come true, Venkatesh has to consider whether or not he can go that far away from his mother and from Jhangir.

Given its Indian setting and its rags-to-riches (sort of) theme, The Pool has been compared to Slumdog Millionaire, but other than being likewise transporting, it is a completely different film experience. The Pool is a slow, seemingly uncomplicated story that sneaks up on you and stays with you long after you've left the theatre.

Both Venkatesh Chavan and Jhangir Badshah are first- time actors, and both live and work in Panjim, where the movie is set. Nana Patekar, who plays the owner of the pool and Vinkatesh's mentor, is a legend in Indian cinema, and Ayesha Mohan has been involved in several other films. All the performances are extraordinary; by the end of the movie, you believe you know these characters well.

The Pool is beautiful to look at, and, for what it conveys about human nature, to experience. The movie is in Hindi with English subtitles.

LIZ.BRAUN@SUNMEDIA.CA
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THE POOL

1 HOUR, 38 MINUTES

STARRING: VENKATESH CHAVAN, NANA PATEKAR, JHANGIR BHADSHAH

DIRECTOR: CHRIS SMITH

Sun Rating: 4 out of 5




SHALL WE KISS? NOW PLAYING IN TORONTO, VANCOUVER and OTTAWA!

Here's a selection of reviews for SHALL WE KISS? presently playing in the following Canadian theatres:

. VARSITY CINEMAS, TORONTO
. PARK THEATRE, VANCOUVER
. BYTOWNE CINEMA, OTTAWA




Lip-locked lovers
Shall We Kiss? is a French romance about the dangers of attraction
By Jay Stone, Canwest News ServiceApril 10, 2009
SHALL WE KISS?
Starring: Emmanuel Mouret, Virginie Ledoyen, Julie Gayet, Michael Cohen
Directed and written by: Emmanuel Mouret
Running time: 96 minutes
PG: Nudity, sexual situations, adult themes.
(In French with English subtitles)
- - -
The French of our imaginations -- that is, the French of the movies -- are expert in all things to do with love, but the French of Shall We Kiss? don't seem to have the foggiest notion of how it works, how it doesn't, and what to do about it. Shall We Kiss? is a sort of romantic farce, a love story reminiscent of something Woody Allen would do: it's not wise about the complications of romance, but it's wise about how we view the complications. This isn't a movie about love as much as it is a movie about the audiences for French movies about love.
As such, it's beautifully dressed for the occasion. Writer-director Emmanuel Mouret, also one of the film's stars, uses a palette of white and beige, with minimalist rooms decorated with pictures of famous composers.
Tchaikovsky and Schubert score the film's long talks about love and even a man's meeting with a prostitute -- is that a bassoon in your orchestration or are you happy to see me? -- and everyone is tastefully fashionable. A man wouldn't even think of going outside without a scarf knotted in some complicated way around his neck.
The plot also has an impeccable structure. Emilie (Julie Gayet) is on a business trip to Nantes when she meets Gabriel (Michael Cohen). They both have partners in life, but they are attracted to each other. Gabriel tries to kiss Emilie; it would be a kiss without consequences, he tells her. But she refuses. Instead, she tells him a story of a friend who once kissed a man, and with dire consequences. Shall We Kiss? -- or, wonderfully, Un baiser s'il vous plait -- is the story of that kiss.
The film within the film concerns single man Nicolas (Mouret) and his married pal Judith (Virginie Ledoyen), platonic best friends until the day Nicolas reveals that he needs something more: he needs physical affection.
Their solution is a long seduction scene that comes to the screen as Woody Allen by way of Eric Rohmer: she sits on the bed and he sits beside her, awaiting instructions. May he touch her breast?, he asks. Now the other one? There is a small debate about a kiss: he finds it necessary, but she warns him that if there is no magic in it, the deal is off. "You run the risk of me being reticent later," she says. It's not so much passion as a clinical checklist, a romantic parody in which the formality of friendship runs right up against the surrender of erotic attraction.
Eventually Nicolas and Judith embark on an affair filled with guilt, which they try to assuage by having sex as frequently as possible "to take the mystery out." Predictably, this doesn't work. The problems are Claudio (Stefano Accorsi), Judith's loving and handsome husband -- Accorsi looks like an Italian Paul Rudd -- and Caline (Frederique Bel), Nicolas's sweet girlfriend. They're being betrayed, and the farce of Shall We Kiss? gives way to something more mournful as the lovers try to find away around this.
Alas, there doesn't seem to be one. This is just what Emilie is trying to tell Gabriel back in the present, but unfortunately, this is a location that is designed in much warmer and vibrant colours and therefore seems to be a place where a kiss would have a better chance. Shall We Kiss? seems to be telling us that such wine-fuelled thoughts are as foolish as they are irresistible, but the people are so removed from their passions that resistance feels possible, if not preferable. Un baiser? Non, merci.
© Copyright (c) The Vancouver Sun
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Shall We Kiss?: Sophisticated and witty
 by
JASON ANDERSON
SPECIAL TO THE STAR
Shall We Kiss?
(3 stars out of 4)
Starring Virginie Ledoyen, Emmanuel Mouret and Julie Gayet. Directed by Emmanuel Mouret. 100 minutes. At the Varsity. 14A
A romantic comedy that owes less to any Hollywood precedents than the traditions of Molière and Marivaux, Shall We Kiss? is a quintessentially Gallic sort of charmer. Applying a light touch to his cautionary tale of friends who become lovers against their better judgment, French filmmaker Emmanuel Mouret displays much the same finesse as his venerated forebears when it comes to presenting matters of the heart.
That's not to say the premise of Shall We Kiss? couldn't be repurposed for a Kate Hudson-Matthew McConaughey matchup down the line. It seems inevitable that some enterprising producer will believe it can be improved with shots of glistening pecs.
But any such remake is likely to lack the philosophical bent and theatrical manner of this fourth feature by Mouret, an actor and director who's made a string of successful comedies in his native France.
Here, he plays Nicolas, a schoolteacher whose nervous demeanour makes him anything but a ladies man. Despairing over the lack of "physical affection" in his life, Nicolas resorts to visiting a prostitute but flees when he discovers that he's not allowed to kiss her.
Out of a mixture of sympathy and curiosity, his happily married friend Judith (Virginie Ledoyen) agrees to alleviate Nicolas' suffering in what might be the most amusingly awkward love scene ever filmed.
Intended to be a one-time encounter, they are upset when they realize it meant something more. They resolve to make love again, only much more badly to kill off any attraction. "We'll do it on the floor," Judith helpfully suggests. "It'll be more uncomfortable."
That this doesn't work either isn't surprising, especially considering the story of Nicolas and Judith is actually being told by another character to a suitor in hopes of convincing him there's no such thing as a kiss without consequences.
The archaic nature of the storytelling and the characters' old-fashioned naivety both make Shall We Kiss? seem like it belongs in another century. But it shares its droll yet sweet sensibility with Woody Allen's most effervescent movies about romantic complications (especially Manhattan), as well as the gentlest films of French New Wavers like Eric Rohmer and François Truffaut.
And while it's hardly novel to see the lives of lovers thrown into disarray by a series of misunderstandings, missed signals and well-intentioned lies, Shall We Kiss? carries it all off with a rare degree of sophistication and wit.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Art Star still in the news!

The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins
A documentary by: Pietra Brettkelly featuring Vanessa Beecroft.


Madonna of the art stunt

Extraordinary documentary records artist's chaotic life, and controversial efforts to adopt Sudanese twins

 
****
Anyone seeking proof of the adage "truth is stranger than fiction" need look no further than The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins, easily one of the most bizarre non-fiction journeys ever recorded on film.

The film touches on everything from celebrity adoption of African babies, to chronic marital issues, mental illness and art's place in the political world. The documentary from New Zealand filmmaker Pietra Brettkelly moves from side to side like an ink-jet printer, spitting out small dots that only resolve once the job is done.

Frankly, even when the end-credits roll, there's more than one read on what the film means -- or even what it's all about -- and when it comes to making movies about art, that may be the only way to approach its inherent abstractions -- with a taste for chaos.

Certainly, that's the way Vanessa Beecroft approaches her art. One of the superstars of the European art scene, thanks to her many performance and conceptual pieces that use live models in various states of undress, Beecroft sees art as a dynamic force more than a static artifact.

The half-British, half-Italian creator embraces work with political edges. She's happy to shock and provoke, and when we first meet her in the opening frames of Brettkelly's film, she's painting a group of black women with black paint. A moment later, she's asking one of her assistants to help her: "I need more blood!" she says.

Eventually someone shows up with a bucket of sticky, bright red liquid that Beecroft pours over the women, who now lie naked and motionless on the floor of a Venetian fish market.

Brettkelly cuts in and out of this creation sequence for Beecroft's last Venice Biennale installation, VB61: Still Death! Darfur Still Deaf? over the course of the movie. At first, one wonders if the choice to move in and out of this jarring image was motivated by the sheer drama of the optics alone. Then, by the midway point, it's clear why Brettkelly chose to use the Darfur installation as the central artistic motif: the piece operates as a reflecting mirror to Beecroft's life and oeuvre, and came out of one particular experience she had in Sudan.

Shortly after Beecroft landed in Sudan for a different art project she encountered two malnourished, Sudanese twins. Beecroft was lactating because she'd recently given birth, and sensing a need she could fill, she offered up her mammaries to the supposed orphans.

For two weeks, she bonded with the two little boys. Then, she decided she wanted to take them home.
Beecroft's desire to play saviour to the twins is not surprising. Moreover, in these days of superstar adoptions by the likes of Madonna and Angelina Jolie, Beecroft's maternal urge is almost fashionable.

Yet, as the legal details begin to bubble to the surface over the course of several months, we learn the twins actually have a father and an extended family. Undeterred, though slightly guilty about the idea of "taking the children from their father," Beecroft perseveres.

She's used to being a bulldozer. Self-possessed and a self-confessed depressive, Beecroft says she's not the kind of person to back down, or shut up. She does what she wants, and when things don't go her way she actually seems stunned by the idea that the entire world isn't there to support her every whim.
Beecroft's monolithic ego is what makes her a great artist -- she is unafraid -- but it leads to problems in every other facet of her life.

She's a good person, and she's desperate to be seen as a good person, but she's also got mental health issues to deal with. We learn that she and her husband have had such terrible fights that police have been called. She talks about her bouts of depression and rage, followed by stints of pharmacologically induced numbness.

In the end, Beecroft chose to ditch the pills in favour of the roller coaster ride that inspires her art, and watching her spill buckets of sticky red ooze over sprawling bodies, she couldn't look happier -- or more at home.

The Pool Opens With Great Reviews!

The Pool 

Director: Chris Smith 

OPENING APRIL 3rd at Cumberland Cinemas, TORONTO
OPENING APRIL 3rd at Ridge Theatre, VANCOUVER
OPENING APRIL 9th at Bytowne Cinema, OTTAWA

 

 

The Pool: The new home of plucky protagonists


Jay Stone, Canwest News Service   
Published: Thursday, April 02, 2009
*** 3 stars


Chris Smith's quietly humanistic drama The Pool concerns an illiterate teenager in a dead-end job who aspires to improve himself: He wants to go to school, and he wants the life of which he sees glimpses every day when he climbs out of his shabby, rundown world into the wealthy surrounding suburbs.

There, he climbs a tree and peers into a pristine swimming pool behind a luxurious villa that represents a life of privilege - complete with eerie silence, so unlike the bustling town - he can barely understand. Eventually, the boy will make friends with the owner of the villa and with his attractive daughter, and he will be offered a chance to flee to the big city and go to school to make his dreams come true.

The movie is based on a short story by Randy Russell, which was set in Iowa. Smith has transferred it to Goa, a former Portuguese colony in India: the boy, named Venkatesh, is played by a newcomer named Venkatesh Chavan; his young friend, named Jhangir, is played by Jhangir Badshah, another non-professional actor. The characters are based to some extent, on the actors' real lives.

In these respects, The Pool may remind you of Slumdog Millionaire, the Oscar-winning phenomenon that shows signs of becoming a model for the new Hollywood fantasy. Although less melodramatic and free of such Bollywood conventions as the closing dance number, The Pool joins Slumdog in expressing something new about 21st century cinema. Once, in the hardscrabble 1930s, such cinematic dreams - the poor but honest lad being rescued by good fortune or a rich benefactor - were set in the streets of big-city America. Today, when such ideas have been corrupted by the intervening years of knowingness, irony, entitlement and sophistication, they are set in India, a place where class divisions are still formalized and the magic of achievement can still be unexpected.

The Pool is a measured film that is rich in detail: Smith is a documentary filmmaker (American Movie) who is engaged with the everyday. A man might carve up a coconut while he gives advice to a boy to whom he is becoming a surrogate parent, and the act of carving - the way he chops off the skin, the careful movement of his machete - become as engaging as his words. It's filmed close to the ground, with few close-ups and little music, so that we can drink in the surroundings.

Venkatesh is a "hotel boy," who makes beds, cleans rooms (and toilets) and earns some extra cash by buying plastic bags and selling them in the market: a subsequent ban on plastic bags, a bit of environmental revival that cuts across The Pool at an oblique angle, costs him dearly.

Working up his nerve, he approaches the non-nonsense owner of the villa (veteran Indian star Nana Patekar) and becomes his assistant and later, his project. He also is intrigued by Ayesha (Ayesha Mohan), the man's spoiled daughter, who is always reading a book and who has vulgar, middle-class arguments with her father. Their life is the melodrama of the film - the reason for the empty pool is part of a family secret - but it is presented in passing. One of the strengths of The Pool is that it goes in surprising directions.

No one draws attention to it, but the disputes of the rich stand in interesting contrast to the conviviality of life at the bottom. Even when Venkatesh teases a co-worker, it is with the affection that is vital to people who have nothing but each other. The pool and the life it represents are more than an economic impossibility: They also mean a leap across a moneyed gap that includes a built-in hostility and sullen regret, which are the real luxuries of the rich.

The Pool is not a comedy, but it has a light heart and an affection for its characters. Patekar, the senior actor in the troupe, holds things together with an unforced and naturalistic performance, but the young actors are as charming and persuasive as the cast of Slumdog Millionaire, with whom everyone seems to have fallen in love. Perhaps it is because they remind us of ourselves, before we got spoiled. 

http://www.nationalpost.com/arts/movies/story.html?id=1457472
 




Chris Alexander
02 April 2009 
Toronto & Vancouver print versions





Rating: ***** (out of five)


After wallowing in an endless miasma of elephantine, over-plotted, big budget blockbuster brain drainers it’s a genuine pleasure to stumble across a film like The Pool. Elegant, simple and sharply observed, the picture is the sort of gentle, bittersweet character drama that’s come to be dubbed Neo-realist by those in the know; low budget, quasi-documentary movies that enlighten us by telling stories about regular, working class people trying to keep their heads above water in difficult situations.

In the case of the Goa-set picture The Pool, however, our protagonist is actually striving to submerge himself in water. Awkward Vankatesh (newcomer Venkatesh Chaven) spends his days working in a Panjim hotel and, along with his orphaned friend Jhangir, selling plastic shopping bags in the local market.  One day, the two friends spot a wealthy family’s luxurious pool through the trees. So smitten with this chlorinated mirage, Vankatesh vows to swim in it no matter what the cost.

As he slowly insinuates himself into the family, first as a groundskeeper and then as a sort of surrogate son to the father, his humble dreams become more and more obscured and his fortunes change. Not exactly a synopsis that quickens the pulse, but that’s the poetry of The Pool. It’s not burdened by twists and turns or gimmicky devices, rather director Chris Smith simply sits back and lets his camera study his characters behaving in their natural environments.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

ART STAR Opens in Toronto to RAVE REVIEWS


The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins
Dir: Pietra Brettkelly. 109 minutes.



Rating: NNNNN



See brilliant, privileged installation artist Vanessa Beecroft arrange human nudes and the word “exploitation” comes to mind. Watch her arrange Sudanese subjects in order to shed light on the slaughter in Darfur and the issue gets more complex. Follow her attempt to arrange the adoption of the Sudanese twins she breastfeeds on her first visit to Darfur – her own newborn is back home in America (!) – and your head spins.

These are just three of the many layers of this dizzying and dazzling meditation on art, inequality and responsibility. Director Pietra Brettkelly offers a nuanced portrait of the art star, who is not a villain. Beecroft’s heart is as big as her ego, and during a revealing conversation between her and her increasingly estranged husband, we get a grip on her internal logic. Her artwork is stunning, and the film is gorgeously photographed by Jacob Bryant, who taps into the intrinsically problematic aesthetics
of black and white. Awesome.

Source URL: http://www.google.ca/search?hl=en&q=film+portrait+of+an+art+star&btnG=Google+Search&meta=cr%3DcountryCA


__________________


The Art Star And The Sudanese Twins



Rating: ****

BY JASON ANDERSON March 18, 2009


That Vanessa Beecroft’s marriage ended after the filming of The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins is thoroughly unsurprising given the contents of Pietra Brettkelly’s discomfiting documentary. “My situation is falling apart,” says the artist at one point of her relationship with then-husband Greg Durkin. Though he is initially supportive of her, we can see how and why Durkin is troubled by the ramifications of — and underlying motivations for — Beecroft’s quest to adopt two Sudanese children whom she has featured in her work, which frequently addresses the gulf between the aestheticized experiences of the art world and the harsher realities of life outside the biennale circuit.

A terrific subject, the Beecroft that the film presents is an open, honest and earnest sort of person. That said, she’s frustratingly reluctant to acknowledge the consequences of her actions and The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins charts the damage that can be created by the best of intentions. In the process of documenting Beecroft’s flameout, Brettkelly makes some sharp observations about the vagaries of the contemporary art scene and the ethics of international baby shopping in the age of Madonna and Angelina Jolie. Given the clashing imperatives of conceptual art and contemporary altruism, it’s no wonder that Beecroft seems so frantic.

http://www.eyeweekly.com/film/onscreen/article/54944

__________________

Adoption and artist's ego


Sun Rating: 4 out of 5


By LIZ BRAUN, SUN MEDIA
Friday, March 20, 2009


THE ART STAR AND THE SUDANESE TWINS
1 Hour, 49 Minutes
Starring: Vanessa Beecroft
Director: Pietra Brettkelly
Angelina Jolie and Madonna have adopted African babies. Have they started a trend?

That's just one of the ideas investigated in The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins, a terrific new documentary about performance artist Vanessa Beecroft and the African infants she wanted to call her own. As is so often the case with documentary films, The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins started off as one thing and evolved into quite another.

New Zealand filmmaker Pietra Brettkelly has an ongoing interest in international adoption and has already made one film about the subject. When she met performance artist Vanessa Beecroft by chance in South Sudan a few years ago, the women talked about the local twins Beecroft was thinking about adopting. Brettkelly asked if she could film Beecroft's adoption journey, not realizing that she'd wind up with a documentary that's just as much about contemporary art, extreme culture clash, Western perceptions of Third Worldcountries and notions of family. It's simultaneously biography, art history and political commentary, and it's entirely engaging.

Over 16 months, The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins follows Vanessa Beecroft in her strange, determined quest to adopt twins she has encountered in the Sudan. The film opens with a look at VB61, Vanessa Beecroft's performance piece at the 52nd Venice Biennale -- art involving 30 Sudanese women pretending to be dead, and some red paint. It's an art/politics combo.

The action then goes back to 15 months earlier, with Beecroft in Africa talking about the children she wants to adopt. Here she is breastfeeding the twins who interest her and being photographed doing so; Beecroft had arrived in Africa while still nursing one of her own children, so she could nourish the starving twins. And get her picture taken while she did. There's a juxtaposition of maternal interest and cold commerce throughout the film that is very unsettling.

The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins captures Beecroft as she encounters various obstacles in her adoption attempts -- for example, the children, Madit and Mongor Akot, turn out to still have a father. Beecroft's efforts involve various local dignitaries and religious leaders and international lawyers, but it's interesting that she doesn't tell her own husband about her plans.

In the course of showing her single-minded pursuit of the kids, the movie introduces interviews with Beecroft's mother and father, with art experts and with Beecroft's own husband, social anthropologist Greg Durkin. The picture of Beecroft that slowly comes together is one of ruthless ego and bizarre sentiment. There are a handful of moments in the movie that cut painfully close to the heart of Beecroft's character -- a chat about a childhood friend she tormented for being stupid and ugly, for example, the way she hisses at her assistant, or her seeming indifference to the people around her. In one memorable scene, Beecroft is interrupted during a photo shoot by women in the village who object, strenuously, to the babies being naked in the church. She barricades the door against the women -- in their village, in their church, with their orphans.

The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins is a worrisome document about the first world view of Third World countries, but what it says about contemporary art gives the movie a rich vein of humour. (Or as Damien Hirst said about 20 years ago, "I can't wait to get into a position to make really bad art and get away with it.")

"My husband says, 'You're so superficial,'" Beecroft admits in the movie; tough not to agree with him.

http://www.torontosun.com/entertainment/columnists/liz_braun/2009/03/20/8817931-sun.html

also reprinted in http://jam.canoe.ca/Movies/Reviews/A/Art_Star_And_The_Sudanese_Twins/2009/03/20/8819551-sun.html

ART STAR More Reviews


A disturbing portrait of the artist as Lady Madonna

***


By RICK GROEN

The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins
Directed by Pietra Brettkelly Starring Vanessa Beecroft
Classification: PG

Vanessa Beecroft is the art star whose work - she's given to live tableaus of nude women posed motionless in a vast gallery space - has been exhibited around the world. Madit and Mongor are the Sudanese twins, motherless children left by their impoverished father to the care of a small village orphanage.

Fate decrees that the artist will cross paths with the twins, whereupon she is seized by twin urges - to personally adopt the infants and to professionally use them in her art. Meanwhile, fate further decrees that this intersection will come to the attention of New Zealand filmmaker Pietra Brettkelly, who is taken with a similar urge to pursue her aesthetic interest and benefit from the whole scenario by, of course, making a documentary.

Such is the background of this strange, frequently disturbing, sometimes rambling, always unnerving nexus between life's messy motives and art's ordered demands. Much of the footage focuses on Beecroft - stylish, cosmopolitan, in her early middle years - during a specific visit to Sudan to meet the infants, at that point merely months old. There, accompanied by her own photographer and a trusty assistant, she scurries about fretting over her dual tasks, conferring with various officials to promote the paperwork for the adoption, but also deploying the kids as models in a makeshift studio.

A single shot, carefully staged (she has brought along the dress for the occasion), obsesses her: The artist herself nursing the children, one at each breast, a pair of undernourished black babies suckled by a benevolent white woman. Later, in a Milan gallery, that photograph will excite much controversy and advance her career - learned commentators detect an admirable new maturity in her work.

To be sure, Beecroft is acutely aware of the fraught symbolism in the image - the colonial reverberations, the religious resonance, the pop culture winks at the acquisitive likes of Angelina Jolie and that other Madonna. This awareness definitely gives the photo its disturbing power, but, apparently, does nothing to deter Beecroft's continuing wish to bring the twins back to her New York home, to the place that houses her own two daughters, her Scandinavian nanny, her Jamaican housekeeper, and Greg her sociologist husband. Oh, one more thing: She has yet to inform Greg of her mission - the guy's completely unaware of any family additions.

A strange journey, indeed. En route, Brettkelly intermittently cuts away from Sudan to splice in interviews with the artist's Italian mother and English father and with Greg too, establishing her troubled psychiatric past (an OCD diagnosis, a stint on Zoloft) along with her rocky domestic present (the now-informed hubby strongly disapproves of the adoption). The film flirts with tedium here. At first intrigued, we, much like the folks around her, start to grow a bit weary of the egoist at the centre of the tale, and tired of watching cameras in search of footage shooting more cameras in search of other footage.

Still, there's something about Beecroft, with her softly whispering voice and her pre-Raphaelite air, that keeps bringing us back and drawing us in. So thoughtful one moment, so superficial the next, she's as shallow and deep as the art she creates. But our intrigue isn't confined to her. As the film tacks on a rather contrived climax, plus a provocative denouement, we wonder who is serving whom here, and how to measure the blurred line that separates those taking advantage from those being taken advantage of. Certainly, exploitation abounds here, and profitably so: The art star is touring the galleries; this film is making the rounds of the theatres.

As for the Sudanese twins, I'll obey my own aesthetic instinct and keep you in suspense about their eventual fate - yes, the exploitation continues.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/ArticleNews/freeheadlines/LAC/20090320/AARTSTAR20/thearts/Arts


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The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins


By Robert Bell

Vanessa Beecroft, the subject of this documentary, is fascinating from an artistic perspective, known for rendering large scale performance exhibitions with nude models — mostly female — whose interaction with the audience within a specific politically conscious space,channels esoteric ideas about identity, voyeurism and context.

Her exploration of Darfur and the Sudanese plight in "VB61 — Darfur: Still Death, Still Deaf?" helped bring ongoing issues to the forefront of the art community, which in turn brought forth a rash of philanthropic efforts from do-gooder artistes with a need to cleanse their consciences.

It seems that simply making the world aware of Sudanese problems was not enough for the inherently hypocritical, mercurial, conflicted and potentially delusional (you decide) artist, as her attentions turn to "saving" a pair of Sudanese twins named Madit and Mongor, whose mother has passed and whose father has no means of support. Allusions to the recent exploits of Madonna and Angelina Jolie are not unjustified, as issues of Western idealism and cultural insensitivity flounder about, along with the stability of the adoptee.

As Beecroft generally creates chaos in any given environment, citing artistic temperament in relation to self, one may question the motivations behind confronting the Sudanese justice system and religious sensibilities. She photographs children nude in a Sudanese church, regardless of the outrageous offence this shows to locals, gets well into the adoption process before communicating her intentions to her husband and two children, and endlessly pontificates about notions of exploitation and peer validation.

Brettkelly's documentary doesn't throw judgment onto her behaviour, rather it observes her in an often-poetic fashion that denies the commercial demands of the documentary medium. It raises more questions than it answers by observing both the shallow simplicity of rescue and the greater complications of ideology and fundamental beliefs, which cannot be "right" no matter how righteously some people believe them to be. (Kinosmith)

http://exclaim.ca/motionreviews/generalreview.aspx?csid2=5&fid1=37263&csid1=132



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ART STAR Editorials - People can't stop talking...


The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins
opens in Toronto on March 20 and Vancouver on March 27, with more Canadian dates to follow.



A portrait in pushing boundaries and people


Vanessa Beecroft's art shocks many viewers. And a new film suggests her methods can be just as controversial.

GUY DIXON
March 18, 2009
Performance artist Vanessa Beecroft, a white woman with reddish hair, is breastfeeding two black children, her breasts protruding through slits cut down the front of her dress.

She has a nurturing, if sombre, expression on her face. But the charred hem of her dress and the stark background of the image - one of the most controversial photos the Italian-born artist has made in recent years - places it far from the benign world view of, say, a Benetton ad.

Or does it? Why should the image of a woman breastfeeding two black children, in this case orphaned twins the artist tried to adopt in southern Sudan, be controversial at all? Why is it that some viewers detect an attitude of superiority toward these children?

These are some of the uncomfortable questions that come up in Pietra Brettkelly's documentary The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins, opening this Friday. But instead of merely showing the public reaction to Beecroft's work, the New Zealand-based director goes further - exploring how the image was created and the difficulties, many self-created, that Beecroft encountered along the way.

The filmmaker met the New York-based artist in the Sudan by chance while Beecroft was working on her photo project and Brettkelly was making a different documentary.
"She had gone out there to try to understand the whole Darfur situation with an Italian delegation," said Bretkelly. "She says that she was on a plane from New York to Italy at one stage and picked up a newspaper, and Darfur was on the front page. And she said, 'What is this? I think I need to understand it more.' "

In the film, Beecroft describes this sudden interest in the Sudan in breathless, accented English. But her voice also conveys a certain amazement and insistence that can come across as either naive or manipulative - except, perhaps, to Brettkelly.

The filmmaker talks about Beecroft as if she's still trying to understand her. And the film takes an objective stance on her work. The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins simply shows the intense factors surrounding Beecroft as she makes her art - from her obsessive failed attempt to adopt the twins (which nearly breaks up her marriage back in the United States) to her insistence on photographing the children (which upsets Sudanese locals).

In one of the most poignant scenes in the film, women from the orphanage try to stop Beecroft and her photographer (also white) from shooting the twins unclothed in the village church.
Beecroft is trying to capture them with the cherubic look they have throughout the photo series. But instead of heeding the locals, she races through the photo shoot in a panic - and at a certain point even barricades herself inside the church.

"What comes first, the genius or the personality? I've often asked people this," Brettkelly said. "She really pushes boundaries and pushes people. But is that her, or has the art community encouraged her to be like that, because the personality sells the art?

"That really interests me. I haven't quite decided which comes first. But I do think she is a genius. Just from talking to her, her command of language is extraordinary. How she thinks and writes, and what she references, and historically what she draws on, is amazing."

Beecroft's fame - and notoriety - first came from her installation pieces of naked women standing in galleries, posing often to the point of exhaustion. Questions about self-image and the act of observing are at the core of her work, which some art-world observers link to Renaissance painting in terms of its attentiveness to the human form and its sense of stillness. The photos in the Sudanese series also have clear religious references.

But Beecroft's work also straddles the line between art and fashion. This can make her more accessible, says Brettkelly - but can also be offensive to some viewers. For example, the film shows how digitally manipulated the Sudanese photos are: Beecroft's hair is changed and some of the unique characteristics of the location are removed from the image.

Even before she went to Africa, Beecroft included African women in her art. But as Brettkelly explained, the situation on the continent began to interest her, "so she thought, 'Well, I'm going to try to get to the actual scene.' " She ended up in southern Sudan, hundreds of miles from the western Darfur region.

As for filming Beecroft at work there, "I've never come across a subject that allowed me access all the time, every time," Brettkelly said. But the filmmaker also admitted that ultimately she found this exhausting, mainly, she hinted, because of the input Beecroft tried to have in the editing process.

But then the director stopped herself from saying more - she clearly wants the film to speak for itself, and for viewers to draw their own conclusions about Beecroft.

"I just think she's got this incredible drive to do her art. She can't live without doing art. Everybody in her life becomes part of her art. For her, there's no barrier. If she's experiencing something, she's photographing it or painting it," Brettkelly said.

"People either really love her or are disgusted or appalled by her behaviour ... One person [at a screening] said that Van Gogh was apparently a really hideous person [to be around], yet we find his work extraordinary. And therefore we should allow artists to do what they do."

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20090318.ASTAR18//TPStory/Entertainment
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Film portrait of an art star is not so black and white



Is controversial artist Vanessa Beecroft a genius or a narcissist who's gone too far?

March 19, 2009
PETER GODDARD SPECIAL TO THE STAR

The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins may be the film world's most fearsome title since Snakes on a Plane.

Seeing an airborne Burmese python surely can't compare with horrifying visions of unspeakable indulgences conveyed by the very idea of the "art star." In this regard, Art Star delivers big time in its daunting portrait of Vanessa Beecroft. It opens in Toronto tomorrow at the Cumberland Theatre.

Over the years, the Italian-American performance artist's pathological fear of becoming fat has led her to pose silent battalions of nude or near-nude women before blasé wine-sipping art mavens at high-end museums and galleries. Museums everywhere still vie for her Playboy-esque, nubile installations.

Beecroft tops herself in Art Star, though. Her plan to adopt twin Sudanese orphans Madit and Mangor Akot as an art event – the artist sees herself as a retro-Renaissance Virgin Mary suckling the infants – makes similar cross-cultural adoption efforts by Madonna and Angelina Jolie seem wholly selfless by comparison.

One quickly comes to believe that Beecroft masochistically enjoys the universal condemnation hurled her way because of this plan. When a number of Sudanese churchwomen burst into a church where Beecroft is photographing the twins naked, the artist seems utterly bewildered. It's not right, the women insist. Beecroft doesn't understand. If she's doing it, it must be right.

So credit is due Pietra Brettkelly, Art Star's New Zealand director/producer, in humanizing an artist who's other observable talent is attracting invective worthy of a serial killer. (Following the film's appearance at the 2008 Sundance Film Festival, one reviewer concluded that Beecroft is a "hypocritically self-aware, colossally colonial pomo narcissist.")

"I didn't want to just show all her attitude and how she treats people," says Brettkelly, who hadn't heard of Beecroft before they met in 2006 when the documentarian arrived in south Sudan shooting a doc based on New Zealanders living abroad. Brettkelly describes herself as "a general punter on the streets" when it comes to high-end art.

"I wanted the audience to feel (something for her) and not completely dislike her," Brettkelly elaborated during a recent interview. "I personally wouldn't want to go to a movie to just see somebody ranting.

"Besides, it wasn't hell all the time with her. There were some really great fun moments. She's great to have a glass of wine at the end of the day with. She's incredibly warm and friendly and encouraging and generous. Some days I was just so fond of her. Other days she was so frustrating, rude and abusive, and not just to me but to the people around her."

Beecroft's overwhelming self-centredness undermines Brettkelly's best intentions at every turn, though. The adoption plans, by no means welcome by Sudanese officials, catch social anthropologist Greg Durkin, the artist's husband, by surprise. He's aghast. "It's almost too selfish," he says.

Almost? Beecroft and Durkin have separated since Art Star's release, although Brettkelly told me she felt Durkin was "the rock" in Beecroft's life. The artist, although taken away at an early age from her English father by her Italian mother, seems to enjoy her jet-setting life. It's a way around not facing certain basic truths.

Aside from Brettkelly herself, Beecroft's apologists are found almost entirely in the art world, whose welfare depends in part on Beecroft's latest outrage.

"There's never been anything like the double breastfeeding photo," says the artist's New York dealer, Jeffrey Deitch. "It is a disturbing beauty."

He's right. But that's not what Art Star is about. In the film, the disturbing beauty is the artist herself, who believes her excesses are not merely justified in the name of art; they are her art.

http://www.thestar.com/article/603827

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Artful dodger
A new doc explores artist Vanessa Beecroft's controversial adoption efforts


Filmmaker Pietra Brettkelly, left, together with her subject, artist Vanessa Beecroft.
(Frank Micelotta/Getty Images)

Performance artist Vanessa Beecroft's intention to adopt orphaned babies Madit and Mongor Akot comes under scrutiny in the film documentary The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins. (Vanessa Beecroft/Pietra Brettkelly)

The photograph is clearly meant to be a shove and a slap, and it is: A white woman in an angelic white dress, burnt along the bottom like a baked doily, nurses two black babies, one on each breast. In this portrait, the deified figures are not the babies, but the Madonna front and centre: Vanessa Beecroft, a 39-year-old Italian-British artist.

'There aren’t many people who feel lightly about Vanessa [Beecroft]. It’s either love or hate.'
— Filmmaker Pietra Brettkelly

For her, the image is a piece of reverse colonialism, an attempt to rewrite the history of wet nurses of colour enlisted in the service of white Western women. But as with all of Beecroft’s work, the photograph is also painfully personal. In 2006, she travelled to Sudan and on her first day there met Madit and Mongor Akot at an orphanage. The baby boys needed to be nursed, and Beecroft stepped in, able to do so because she was still breastfeeding her youngest son in New York. Whether she bonded intensely with the children, or had a selfish urge to live out the Angelina Jolie fantasy of salvation through adoption — perhaps a combination of both — Beecroft began efforts to formally adopt the boys.

But Sudan has no laws around adoption and, indeed, no cultural concept of it. In this way, the now-famous portrait that resulted, like the story behind it, is not merely an artistic provocation, but an outrage to many, an extension of colonialism rather than a refutation.

For 16 months, New Zealand filmmaker Pietra Brettkelly followed Beecroft around. The resulting documentary, The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins, has become a lightning rod for both the artist’s followers and those with strong opinions about international adoption. Echoing other reviews, a seething post on the blog of New York magazine last year read: “The doc cluster-bombs her faddish fascination with Sudanese orphans and paints Beecroft as a hypocritically self-aware, colossally colonial pomo narcissist.”

Brettkelly had no idea Beecroft was such a divisive figure when they met; in fact, she had never heard of her. The director was travelling the world working on a documentary about New Zealanders living abroad. She landed in Sudan's Darfur region, where she and her crew slept in a camp for aid workers and visitors. Amid that crowd, the strikingly beautiful Beecroft and her team of photographers and assistants stood out.

“We hooked up with her every night,” says Brettkelly, who is 42 and appears to share Beecroft’s glamorous tendencies, wearing a shimmering, floor-length black dress during an interview in a Toronto hotel room. “She said she was a performance artist and I had no idea what that meant. I thought she was just a dancer doing some wacky dancing in flowy, tie-dyed skirts.”
Brettkelly laughs now at her naïveté, but it served her well. When she discovered that Beecroft was interested in adopting, Brettkelly asked if she could film the process, and Beecroft agreed. “I kept asking why and she told me, ‘Because you know nothing about me,’” says Brettkelly.

Brettkelly only figured out she was dealing with a renowned conceptual artist when she joined Beecroft at the Venice Biennale in 2007 for a performance called VB61: Still Death! Darfur Still Deaf?. There, Beecroft delivered a variation on her signature installations, in which groups of women stand or sit without moving for hours at a time. The direct feminism of those works — Beecroft, who has had a lifelong eating disorder, is in constant conversation with the female body as object — absorbed new meaning in Venice. The documentary shows Beecroft arranging 30 African women across a white floor, trailing red paint across their still bodies.

“I was incredibly moved,” Brettkelly says. “The stuff in L.A. with white models hadn’t done much for me, but this I understood.”

Both the art and the adoption end up receding in The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins. Instead, Beecroft’s private damage moves to the forefront: Her father and mother both make appearances in the film, describing an isolated, intellectual, precocious childhood in the Italian countryside. At one point in the film, Beecroft’s husband, Greg Durkin, now a film executive, is flabbergasted that she has initiated the adoption without informing him.

When Brettkelly showed Beecroft a 3½-hour cut of the doc, her subject was initially pleased. But after viewing the edited version, Beecroft sent Brettkelly a laundry list of things she wanted changed, and eventually enlisted a lawyer. Brettkelly says she didn’t alter the film based on Beecroft’s complaints, and it certainly doesn’t feel like a vanity project. The doc is sympathetic to Beecroft, who struggles with depression, but it isn’t always flattering. In one particularly difficult scene, Beecroft is shooting the babies in a church in Sudan when a few local women pound the door, outraged that the children are being photographed naked, and accusing Beecroft’s translator of corroborating with “the whites.”

Brettkelly recalls that as the screaming escalated, she considered putting down the camera and getting involved. “My camera man was beside me and I said, ‘Oh God, what do I do? What do I do? Am I going to step in here?’ But really quickly I could see these women didn’t need some white woman to step in. They knew what was right and wrong in their world, and I thought, ‘Okay, I’m fine right here, behind the camera.’ ”

Anyone who wants to write off Beecroft can zone in on her casual white privilege, especially when she bars the door to the church and mutters, “Christ, these people.” But Brettkelly’s film also constantly reminds the viewer that Beecroft is a fiercely driven artist, doing whatever it takes to produce the work she genuinely thinks will change the world. Subtly, the doc asks whether male and female artists are scrutinized or judged in the same way. Is it too simple to dismiss a fashionable, beautiful woman preoccupied by food and the female body — the former considered trivial and the latter an obsession historically left to male artists?

Of their relationship today, Brettkelly says, “It’s incredibly rough. She’s very up and down. She was tough at times, but also incredibly generous. It’s not a friendship, but it has intimacy. I’m always very careful how I am with her. She’s a woman who has achieved amazing things. She’s a brilliant artist. I can’t judge how she has to operate in that world.” Brettkelly pauses. “But to judge someone in a developing country interacting with the locals, that’s a different story.”

Despite the threatened lawsuit, Beecroft appeared at Sundance in 2008 and defended herself, and has become more famous because of the film, collaborating with Kanye West on a performance to launch his last album. She and her husband are also in the process of a divorce, according to Brettkelly.

The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins continues to divide audiences. Brettkelly describes a screening where a man stood up and said, “I find this appalling. It’s disgusting.” Another woman in the audience cut him off. “She said: ‘I completely identify with her. She thinks differently than us. She’s an artist. She’s showing us a way into issues we don’t talk about.’ There aren’t many people who feel lightly about Vanessa. It’s either love or hate.”


Katrina Onstad is the film columnist for CBCNews.ca.


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Saturday, February 14, 2009

"RUMBA" PLAYS AT BYTOWNE CINEMA OTTAWA FROM FEB.13-19

The award-winning comedic dance film RUMBA plays at the Bytowne Cinema Ottawa this week (playing exclusively from Feb.13-19/09). Check out the review in the Ottawa Citizen by Jay Stone:

A surreal dance with colourful, quiet clowns

Rumba spans weirdness and genius

Would le voleur de pain au chocolate pilfer a fresh, cheese-stuffed baguette, as well? For the sake of Fiona and Dom’s lunch, one hopes not.

Would le voleur de pain au chocolate pilfer a fresh, cheese-stuffed baguette, as well? For the sake of Fiona and Dom’s lunch, one hopes not.

Rumba ***

Starring: Dominique Abel, Fiona Gordon, Bruno Romy

Directed by: Dominique Abel, Fiona Gordon, Bruno Romy

Rating: PG (mature theme) (In French with English subtitles)

Playing at: ByTowne Cinema, through Feb. 19

- - -

And then there's Rumba, a surreal oddity that is, among other things, brightly coloured, limber, inspired, tedious, whimsical, almost silent, ingenious, and 77 minutes long. Its stars, Dominique Abel and Fiona Gordon, are similarly eccentric: long-limbed, long-jawed, elastic, deadpan.

Near the beginning of the movie they do a dance -- he wearing red jogging pants and blue T-shirt, she in a yellow dress -- that is all elbows and knees, a gawky hula. It reminds you of two strands of spaghetti boiling, which is funny because later there's a scene where Dom and Fiona (for so their characters are called) are eating spaghetti, one long strand that ends with a kiss, just like the dogs in Lady and the Tramp.

Where to start with this one? She's an English teacher somewhere in Belgium, apparently (opening lesson: she has her students chanting "Around and around his ration of rice my dog rowdily runs") and he's a gym teacher in the same school, whom we see outside her window, leading his students in a nerdy run, arms waving.

Then they do the dance. Then they go off to a rumba competition, getting dressed in the car -- for a while, he's bent backwards over the front seat, trying to get his socks off -- then on the way home they try to avoid a guy who's about to commit suicide -- he keeps running between the road and the train tracks, just missing the various vehicles -- and crash their car. Dom wakes up with amnesia and Fiona wakes up with one leg missing.

And so on, I suppose. Rumba is an eccentric series of comic inventions that belongs in a genre of its own. Abel and Gordon and Bruno Romy (he has a small role as a man trying to steal a chocolate croissant) have an idiosyncratic style that combines the stylized set design of a M. Hulot comedy with the wordless clowning of silent cinema -- there is very little dialogue in Rumba -- and then runs it through the colour saturation machine so that it comes out looking like, oh, maybe Picasso's Crayolas. After somebody left them on the radiator.

Not all of it works: a sequence where Fiona, a new amputee, can't juggle her crutches with her notebook and her purse without falling out a window seems to be pushing the border of the film's essential sweetness, although admittedly, an earlier sequence, when her wooden leg catches fire, does set you up for it. The gags within gags -- Dom making an amnesiac's omelette, say, continuously breaking three eggs because he can't recall having just broken three -- are little moments of genius, as is the part where he unravels her dress while walking down the street, entrapping the whole neighbourhood, who remain serenely deadpan throughout. I supposed you would, if you lived near Dom and Fiona.

GREAT PRESS REVIEWS FOR "SAVING LUNA"

SAVING LUNA opens in Toronto this weekend at the AMC Yonge & Dundas and the Mt.Pleasant Theatre to great reviews!

The Toronto Star gave SAVING LUNA an excellent review:

POWERFUL DOCUMENTARY
TheStar.com | Entertainment | Saving Luna: Powerful documentary
Saving Luna: Powerful documentary
Luna’s story is told by Canadians Michael Parfit and Suzanne Chisholm.


Feb 13, 2009 04:30 AM

Entertainment Columnist


Saving Luna

(out of 4)

Nothing is simple in powerful story of a killer whale's need for humankind

Directed by Suzanne Chisholm and Michael Parfit. 93 minutes.

AMC Yonge & Dundas; Mount Pleasant, 675 Mount Pleasant Ave. G


The real-life story of Luna – the orphaned male orca that found itself abandoned in 2001 in B.C.'s Nootka Sound and opted for human company over finding its pod – begs big-budget Hollywood treatment.

It has all the right components: a baby killer whale relentlessly seeks contact with humans; self-important fisheries department officials, under the thrall of well-meaning cetacean behaviour specialists and "anthropomorphization police," make it an offence for humans to interact with the animal; First Nations inhabitants of Nootka Sound see Luna as the embodiment of the spirit of an ancestor and go to extraordinary lengths to prevent it from being moved; commercial fishermen want the bothersome beast killed; leisure boaters fear the whale's playful antics; and to cap the drama, a media circus amplifies the animal's story to mythological proportions.

Blockbuster stuff. But nothing Hollywood could do to embellish the compelling tragedy – Luna's adventures, well chronicled in the Canadian media, ended when the whale fell afoul of a trawler's propeller in 2006 – would say more about the mysterious relationship between humans and wild animals than Canadian nature journalists and filmmakers Michael Parfit and Suzanne Chisholm have with their documentary Saving Luna.

Their original 2004 brief was simple enough: spend three weeks evaluating the orca's apparent need for human company and write it up for the Smithsonian Institution – not a big task for seasoned writers, photographers and filmmakers with National Geographic credits. But as co-director and narrator Parfit explains in the film, the story's dimensions and dynamics kept changing. After all, the forbidden divide was breached by the animal, not by humans.

Chronicling the implications of that rare act meant sticking by Luna's side for as long as the story took to play out.

With the patience and detachment of true scientists, the filmmakers resist – even disparage – the urge to ascribe human qualities and rationale to the orca's actions and attempts to communicate.

They focus instead on photographing Nootka Sound's majestic other-worldliness and the bewildering efforts of humans to cope with what is, on one hand, a creature in peril and on the other, a dangerous nuisance.

That Parfit and Chisholm eventually become part of the story is inevitable. Breaking the order imposed by Canada's Department of Fisheries and Oceans, as well as defying his own scientific and journalistic imperatives, Parfit finally cannot resist making eye contact with the animal and strokes its warm body.

That simple, satisfying act wordlessly acknowledges the existence of a bridge between the consciousness of the wild unknown and so-called civilized human beings – "a friendship deeper than we know," Parfit says – that has been building inexorably throughout the film and is its very purpose.

No science explains it. Parfit and Chisholm don't even try to deconstruct the mystery of which they've become a part, nor do they over-sentimentalize the whale's dilemma, behaviour and undoing.

As witness to both human folly and faith, and to Luna's evident choice to live among us, Saving Luna raises more questions than it attempts to answer.

But it does deliver a powerful argument: We may have more to learn from animals than they do from us, and intellectually separating ourselves from them – even for the benefit of the wild kingdom – may not be such a great idea.


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And here's an amazing review by Liz Braun from Sun Media:


'Saving Luna' a whale of a tale
By LIZ BRAUN - Sun Media


Saving Luna is a film about a lonely little whale who tried to befriend humans in Nootka Sound. Just so you know, this is a movie that makes grown men cry.

Luna, a baby Orca, became a cause celebre in Canada several years ago when he was separated from his pod.

Luna came on his own to the west coast of Vancouver Island, a rare event. Orcas are social animals, and Luna was extremely lonely. And so he sought out human company, swimming up to boats in Nootka Sound and allowing people to interact with him.

Filmmakers Suzanne Chisholm and Michael Parfit went to the village of Gold River in 2004 to investigate Luna and write a magazine article about the juvenile whale who was stirring up controversy.

They intended to stay for three weeks. They ended up staying for three years.

Scientists believe that interaction between wild animals and humans generally leads to grief for both parties. As a result, fishery officials involved in the Luna case told people not to befriend the little whale -- in order to keep themselves, and Luna, safe.

Native groups in Gold River, however, saw Luna as a supernatural being, the spirit of a recently deceased chief. They interfered with plans to move the Orca away, fearing that Luna was secretly bound for captivity in a marine amusement park.

Some boat owners and fishermen, meanwhile, saw Luna as a nuisance, a large and uncontrolled force whose 'playing' damaged boats. And when Luna began trying to play with the expensive float planes that landed in the area, there were those who wanted the Orca shot.

Saving Luna examines the various viewpoints involved in the situation of the orphan whale, but the filmmakers seem most interested in the idea of friendship and communication among species.

What did Luna need from humans? What was at stake for him? What should have been done to protect him?

Extraordinary footage is the highlight of Saving Luna. It is truly mind-boggling to see and hear the Orca, an endearing creature whose playfulness is unexpected and surprisingly moving. Everyone charged with not showing friendship to Luna (including the officials who threatened to fine people for patting the whale) wound up being won over by the whale.

Luna pursued friendship with humans. The film is full of interviews with officials, local people and scientists, and almost everyone who encountered the whale talks about how much they came to love him. Luna had a distinct personality.

Saving Luna is a truly fascinating movie, both entertaining and educational, and it has won 18 awards at various film festivals around the world.

As it's not devoid of tragedy, the movie is not suitable for very young children.