RIDM 2011 Round-up
Melissa Howard and Ariel Esteban Cayer review some of the standout films at Montreal’s annual documentary film festival

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Crazy Horse (dir. Frederick Wiseman)

Acclaimed documentary filmmaker Frederick Wiseman brought his newest film Crazy Horse to this year’s RIDM line-up, much to a sold-out audience’s delight.   A visually colourful and textured piece, Wiseman painstakingly lays bare every which way Le Crazy Horse de Paris is in a class of its own in the world of strip tease clubs.  Nonetheless, this film is not a sociological study of the women who dance at Le Crazy Horse.  In fact, there seems to be very little interaction between the women themselves – and never once does Wiseman focus his lens on any of the principal dancers for an interview or idle online pharmacy viagra uk chitchat. Instead the audience is made to understand how this renowned Parisian cabaret operates under the direction of its many stagehands, from artistic director to costume fitter levitra online preis to PR representative.  Wiseman’s detached approach to the scene does remarkably well however, at portraying both the literal and figurative smoke and mirrors that make up the show.  A stunning opening sequence is testimony to the visual magnetism of the club as Wiseman captures every angle of a dancer while she performs a classic strip-tease -demurely draping herself over a velvet Ottoman.  Beautiful and informative despite some rather long dance generic propecia online within canada threads, Wiseman fans will revel in his latest observational attempt. (MH)

Darwin (dir. Nick Brandestini)

Somewhere in the barrens of Death Valley, California, lies the town of Darwin.  It’s the kind of place where if you blink, you will miss it.  Fortunately Swiss documentarian Nick Brandestini, made a point of stopping in the middle of Inyo County’s dusty terrain to meet the people who live there.  The great expanse of land is acutely cinematic, but as the film prods into the lives of these people, the camera begs the question, why would anyone live in such a desolate place?  A stones-throw away from a military base, Darwin is the story of a former mining town with a long history of lawlessness, poverty, and a water demand that exceeds availability.  Brandestini effectively allows the town’s inhabitants (the total population is 35) to take the audience on a tour.  This tour includes all manner of hot spot: the post office, the water line and the homes, each one bearing little resemblance to the next.  What comes to light throughout all this weaving and bobbing is the refreshing candour of the town’s people – many of whom allude to a past they need no longer run from, making Darwin feel like the most absorbing frontier canadain cialis on earth.  In the words of one Darwin woman, “Even a broken clock is right twice a day”.   Such matter of fact perception paints a Good for health! Levitra 20mg side effects, our Online Canadian Pharmacy is verified by Pharmacy Checker. very engaging portrait of an unexplored fragment of America, tough to find with any compass.  (MH)

El Velador (dir.  Natalia Almada)

Natalia Almada’s documentary El Velador is a slow burn of a film.  Taking place at the Culiacan narco-cemetery in northern Mexico, Almada observes the daily routines of the night watchman and several others who labour and pay homage to this uncanny site.  Day to day life keeps the pace of this even and introspective work that functions well with little conversation.  TV and Radio announcements pop up intermittently between scenes, reporting on fallen drug lords and those innocents caught in the crosshairs – a serious testament to Mexico’s war on drugs.

El Velador makes no attempts to place value or set a mood.  Alamada approaches the scene without judgment, focusing instead on the fairly repetitive tasks of surviving.  A construction worker’s boots, cracked at the toe from hardened plaster, a travelling fruit vendor, who fills baggies with coconut juice for visitors and the night watchman, who turns ashes in the earth without protest – these images speak volumes about the lives of the cemetery workers.  Consequently, there is no real narrative to the film, but we are left with the inalterable impression that life goes on, for all inhabitants of the cemetery.  The survivor’s tale becomes a predominant motif throughout El Velador as well.  Woman seen maintaining their husbands’ tombs, while their children play in the yard outside, creates an evocative juxtaposition to the several posters of proud young men in the hereafter.  Such distinct personal burdens encapsulate the sorrowful tone this film presents, to great effect.  (MH)

Marcela (dir. Helena Trestikova)

Marcela is a tale that emerged from an original six part series titled Wedding Stories, by accomplished Czech director Helena Trestikova.  Wedding Stories began as a study of six married couples, whose lives Trestikova followed for 20 years, until fixing her lens on Marcela Haverlandova.  The director’s examination of Marcela and new husband Jiri, who wed in 1980, bears witness to a young couple who desperately want to live in their own flat.  After several unsuccessful attempts to find a place of their own, the couple become increasingly acrimonious and finally divorce.  Some rather long and embroiled divorce proceedings, including questions of Jiri’s visiting rights of their young daughter Ivana, foreshadow the mounting disappointments Marcela will come to face.

The tragedies that unfold over Trestikova’s 26 year study of Marcela are extremely affecting, and yet Trestikova’s painstaking observance of Marcela is both tender and tough – she documents the fallout after Ivana’s death, an experience that leaves Marcela despairing and suicidal.  At this afflictive moment in the film, Trestikova’s presence is greater than ever as she reminds Marcela of her surviving son.  Such sagacious attentiveness, gestures to the ways Trestikova operates as both detached witness and perceptive friend – a considerable kindness of vision that places Trestikova in a class of her own, in the world of modern documentarians. (MH)

Katka (dir. Helena Trestikova)

Helena Trestikova’s most recent documentary, Katka (2010), is an arresting fourteen-year portrait of a young woman’s decent into drug abuse.  Trestikova began documenting Katka’s life in 1996 – at the time she was an animated 19 year- old, living in a recovery house, trying to kick a bad drug habit.  Sadly, Katka’s turnaround is not a favourable one.

The opening sequence of the film resonates throughout, evoking feelings of how things could have been for Katka – on camera, she fantasizes about a life spent with a partner and child, but summons to mind her adversary “King Heroin”.  In reality, her relationships – often violent and unstable – prove to be a source of anxiety, not comfort, right up until the moment she gets pregnant.  Nonetheless, Katka is not a film completely devoid of hope; there are several scenes in which Katka attempts to get help from recovery clinics, but the fact remains that her sobriety is evasive.

Much the same as Trestikova’s other films, devoted to individuals who battle sizeable issues, Katka is another attempt by the filmmaker to acknowledge the flip side to such harrowing problems as drug addiction.   Consequently, viewers may question the moral implications of Trestikova’s camera eye – she gets in close both during and after Katka has gotten high – her face frighteningly blank.

A powerful film that, in some ways, defends the dignity of a human eluded by life.  (MH)

Tales of West Street (Part One) – The Vanishing Spring Light (dir. Xun Yu)

First film of a planned 4-part series documenting the last two years of the titular West Street, located at the center of Yangshuo County in the South of China, The Vanishing Spring Light begins slowly, as a testament to direct cinema’s aggravating potential, before finding a solid footing in the parallel narrative of Mrs. Jiang’s passing. Matriarch to the extended family that act as protagonists of this slow-burning documentary, she is a symbol of the traditional way of life – now threatened by gentrification, inflation and a thrust towards modernization – beautifully preserved there for centuries. Yu’s unflinchingly direct approach captures these mundane characters’ humanity, and what began as a look into a ancient, seemingly insular community becomes a deeply moving slice of life one can easily relate to. Jiang predictably passes – which is disquietingly captured on camera – and as the ceremonies ensue, they reveal, for the first time, the impressive scope, connectedness and importance of this community; confirming the viewer’s fleeting feeling that this is an important snapshot of a culture that still have the luxury of being caught in their own idyllic time and place.   The film was awarded NFB’s Best New Talent from Québec/Canada. (AEC)

Mondo Cane (dir. Gualtiero Jacopetti, Paolo Cavara & Franco Prosperi)

With this brilliant film, the mondo film – italian for ‘world’; meaning shockumentary, exploitation documentary, etc. – was born and RIDM, in collaboration with the Fantasia Film Festival and the Cinémathèque Québécoise, screened a 35mm copy in honor of one of its directors, Gualtiero Jacopetti, who passed away in August of this year. Significantly tame by today’s standards of “shocking”, the film is nonetheless brilliant in its juxtaposition of (fabricated) travelogue vignettes highlighting – and often recontextualizing – cultural oddities from around the world; foreign traditions, “gross” food (which I put in quotation marks because far from being gross, I think that eating dog, snake and insects is intriguing rather than disgusting) or animal cruelty share screen time with aboriginal tribes and American tourists in Hawaii. Mostly harmless but terribly racist in one specific instance (“…the Chinese represent two thirds of the population. Untiring in their studies of endless ways of making money, they are at the same time also know for their physical laziness…”), the film is also scored by the great Riz Ortolani, which went on to contribute music to countless films but is most importantly responsible for the soundtrack to 1980’s controversial Cannibal Holocaust, which obviously owes a great deal to this film. (AEC)

Inside Lara Roxx (dir. Mia Donovan)

In April of 2004, Montrealer Lara Roxx, a young porn star who had moved to California to work in the big leagues for a quick buck, got the ineffable news: she had contracted HIV, after a handful of shoots only. Enter Mia Donovan, first-time documentary filmmaker who started building a relationship with Lara. 5 years of on-and-off shooting resulted in Inside Lara Roxx, a free-form documentary; hand-held journal of Lara’s various struggles, offering an insider’s look at the porn industry’s current state of denial surrounding HIV and the protection of sex workers as Roxx decides to go back to L.A. to meet co-workers and (unsuccessfully) spread awareness. Donovan’s debut is also a very personal portrait, which occasionally – and perhaps accidentally – deconstructs the relationship that exists between a documentarian and a subject. Indeed, Inside Lara Roxx is a glorious example of the camera as therapy and succeeds mainly in its raw sincerity, a film which is as much about its content as it is about the process it took to get it on film. There is no gloss and despite the “happy ending” the implications of what has been exhibited for us are grim at best, yet Lara’s perseverance is stunning and Donovan’s compassionate outlook and revealing camera make of Inside Lara Roxx an important film absolutely worth seeking out. (AEC) [stay tuned for an interview with director Mia Donovan in the January issue of spectacular Optical]

Resurrect Dead: The Mystery of the Toynbee Tiles (Jon Foy, 2011)

Playing out like an extended X-Files episodes with echoes of culture-jamming and street art as well as aliens and government conspiracy, Resurrect Dead, looks at the very-real urban mystery of the Toynbee tiles, cryptic message that have been appearing all over the East Coast of the United States as well as in South America for over a decade. Who is making these tiles, why is that person making them, and just how are they proliferating? Justin Duerr, with acolytes Colin Smith and Steve Weinik, has dedicated a huge part of his life to solving these questions and this film launches us full-on into a fascinating investigation, revealing layers upon layers and proving, for the umpteenth time, that fact can be stranger, and infinitely more fascinating and mind-bending, than fiction. At times chilling and mostly thrilling, Resurrect Dead is the investigative documentary of the year for any fan of conspiracy theory or the aforementioned show. Yet, unlike an X-Files episode – the film surprisingly provides answers and finds a way to resolves its mystery in beautiful, meaningful ways that round up the portrait of Justin this documentary is also building towards. Ressurrect Dead is highly recommended treat that will leave you wishing for a mystery to solve. (AEC)

Dragonslayer (dir. Tristan Patterson)

Josh “Skreech” Anderson is quite the character. Homeless, has-been pro-skater and deadbeat father, it is through his eyes and experiences that Tristan Patterson shows us the Californian skater-punk scene, its empty pools and eclectic personas. Told in 11 structurally astute and gorgeously photographed vignettes, in turn elucidating a different aspect of Skreech’s crumbling yet joyous life, his relationships, dreams and ambitions, which he goes through mostly drunk, yet unfailingly optimistic at making things work. Dragonslayer paints not only a detailed picture of its subject, but also of a thriving youth culture that is undoubtedly suited for the camera. Obviously bringing to mind the films of Larry Clark, this is a highly energetic film, carried by Skreech’s radiant personality and when the credits roll over this brisk 70-minute coming-of-age film, one can’t help but wish for more moments with the kid. Noteworthy too is the driving score, featuring songs from bands such as Jacuzzi Boy, Thee Oh Sees, Real Estate and more. (AEC)

Putty Hill (dir. Matthew Porterfield)

Echoes of Larry Clark and Gus Van Sant can also be heard in this sophomore effort from Matthew Porterfied (Hamilton), in which a small community on the poor outskirts of Baltimore comes together following the death by overdose of one of their own. Particular in how it tells a story within a fake documentary form (using “interviews” to flesh out the various protagonists mourning the young man’s passing), Putty Hill offers an interesting storytelling device, but feels significantly less resonant thematically. Low-to-middle class/teenage suburban alienation has been covered to death and riffed on with better characters and narratives time and time again in the past (one needs to look no further than Dragonslayer review above) and Porterfield’s effort has the (constructed) sincerity but lacks the spark to be particularly noteworthy or original. (AEC)

About the author:

Kier-La Janisse

Kier-La Janisse is a film writer, publisher, producer, acquisitions executive for Severin Films and an Adjunct Associate Professor in the School of Communication and Creative Arts at Deakin University. She is the author of Cockfight: A Fable of Failure (2024), House of Psychotic Women: An Autobiographical Topography of Female Neurosis in Horror and Exploitation Films (2012/2022) and A Violent Professional: The Films of Luciano Rossi (2007) and has been an editor on numerous books including Warped & Faded: Weird Wednesday and the Birth of the American Genre Film Archive (2021) and Satanic Panic: Pop-Cultural Paranoia in the 1980s (2015). She wrote, directed and produced the award-winning documentary Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror (2021), and produced the acclaimed blu-ray box sets All the Haunts Be Ours: A Compendium of Folk Horror (2021) and The Sensual World of Black Emanuelle (2023).