Update on "freedom" in China: Hu Jie's SPARK and Rita Andreetti's THE OBSERVER

The eponymously titled documentary SPARK details the simultaneous emergence and repression of the Chinese underground publication that appeared in 1960 for the purpose of exposing the horrors of China's Great Leap Forward, a "leap" which resulted in a kind of state-sanctioned famine that is estimated to have killed between 30 and 55 million people. Made back in 2013 by an equally underground Chinese filmmaker, Hu Jie, the movie (seemingly in a longer, two-hour version than the original 100-minute cut listed on the IMDB), Spark, along with a newer documentary about Mr. Hu (shown below), THE OBSERVER by Italian filmmaker Rita Andreetti, is about to be released together in a package entitled SPARK with THE OBSERVER via DVD and VOD from Icarus Home Video.

Interestingly enough and despite Spark being a most necessary and important documentation of those horrible/ despicable times, it is The Observer, detailing the unusual passion for film, truth and art Mr. Hue possesses, that proves the better of the two films -- at least in terms of film-making skill and audience appeal.

Spark takes us on a visit to the execution ground (shown below, I believe) where some protesters of this famine met their fate,

and we hear from a surprising amount of people who remained alive at the time of the making of this documentary, as well as seeing archival photos of them (as below) in their younger days of protest and writing for Spark, the publication. The testimony we hear is varied and, as expected, truly awful. How they managed to survive seems as much a matter of happenstance as anything over which they themselves had control.

Yet the constant jumping around from person to person, place to place, and especially the jumble of ideas, politics, philosophy, reminiscences, poetry (along with current and past events) makes this movie less accessible to Americans and maybe anyone except the Chinese themselves who probably have a better sense of their own history so that what is said and shown here will resonate more strongly. For TrustMovies, the documentary seemed all over the place, even somewhat repetitive, with an occasional memorable statement hitting home. As one old gentleman says now about the Chinese Communist Party's utter misunderstanding of true Marxism and about its lunatic fealty to Chairman Mao: "A real Marxist doesn't worship anyone or anything absolutely!"

And while the names, atrocities and deaths pile up, occasionally one or another story seems to hit home and stand apart. "The party killed its best son," we're told of one man's end. Close to the finale, we hear an all-too-appropriate phrase regarding this huge and populous country and its past and present rulers, regarding Tibet, Hong Kong and so much more: "China, alas!"

If Mr. Hu is less engaging as a filmmaker, despite the absolute necessity of this tale being told, he proves a wonderful subject for the documentary that Ms Andreetti (shown below) provides us. Hu is as photogenic-yet-natural as seems possible: handsome, alert, quick with a smile, humble, thoughtful and consistently present. And while Andreetti may follow Hu's own film-making style in terms of crowding in as much as possible and jumping around from person to place, her style is also more graceful, compelling and easy to watch.

The Observer begins with footage of hand-held cameras documenting the sudden closing of the 2019 Beijing Independent Film Festival, with the entire archive of the festival seized and its founder and artistic director being taken into custody. It was the showing of Hu's Spark that had this festival canceled. It turns out, we learn, that Hu's films are just about as "underground" and hidden from any mainstream viewing as was the Spark publication in its day. How this man has managed to find any place on the film-making map is something of a miracle. And he seems to have learned to live and work within this situation better than you could possibly imagine.

Andreetti talks at length to Hu himself (he clearly trusts her), to friends (one of whom is shown below) and to his wife, who gives us enough personal information that we understand why and how this very driven fellow conducts his life and relationships. It can't have been easy to have lived with and put up with him, but for someone who understands and appreciates his dedication and goal, this was clearly worthwhile, if difficult.

We get a bit of Chinese film history: for decades there were no documentary films in China, just propaganda films. Even now, anything truthful must remain underground. Via scenes from six of Hu's short documentaries, we learn of various people and events, most importantly, the story of Lin Zhao, a woman who protested in life and later even in prison, so that authorities covered her face with a mask so she could not speak. Murdered at age 33, her tale has now been told, and even if it is mostly unseen by the Chinese, still, it exists.

Finally we witness Hu's return to painting (he first began his creative life as a fine artist), and we see a show of his work depicting famine (what else?!) at a local gallery -- which the authorities manage to allow only a three-day run, instead of the longer one that was originally planned. Still, Hu persists. How fine it is that Ms Andreetti has managed to capture him, along with his life and work and purpose, so very well.

The dual set (on a single disc) of Spark with The Observer hits home video via DVD and VOD this coming Tuesday, June 30 -- from dGenerate Films, a leading distributor of independent Chinese film and movies, distributed in the USA via Icarus Home Video. As of June 30, both films will also be available digitally via the relatively new streaming servic, OVID.

Note: for more information of Hu Jie, 

read the interesting article in The New York Times 

that appeared this past Sunday, 6/28/20.

A standard-issue, no-tricks, yet perfectly calibrated movie from François Ozon? You'll see, as BY THE GRACE OF GOD opens

What's this? A movie from François Ozon that breaks no new ground in any direction yet tells a very important story so well that it could hardly be bettered? Yes. It is almost as if this famous French bad-boy filmmaker was thumbing his nose (and various other body parts) at those who've accused him of being mostly style, envelope-pushing and little else.

BY THE GRACE OF GOD (Grâce à Dieu) finds Ozon, pictured at left, working at his peak and showing us that he can, in the space of two hours and 17 minutes, give us a vital tale of religion and freedom, including a huge cast of characters -- each one fully created and performed -- that is compelling from the first and ever more riveting and enveloping as it moves steadily, often quietly along. Ozon has directed with a touch that is alternately light and strong, while writing/adapting his screenplay from a true story that has been, over recent years, making off-and-on headlines in France.

The filmmaker uses standard tropes such a narrative voice-over to lead us into this tale of adult French men, former or still-practising members of the Catholic faith, who have only recently stopped repressing memories of sexual abuse by a particular priest.

One after another they find each other and begin to explore ways to break into the tight circle of rigidity formed by the church, the media and the law -- all of which have long held sway over the very noticeably Catholic country of France.

After the initial and still very religious whistleblower (played by Melvil Poupaud, shown three photos up) tries his best to even slightly crack the protective shell of the church with no success, he convinces another family man, now an atheist (Denis Ménochet, two photos above)  to join him. Both their statute-of-limitations have run out, so they must seek younger men willing to come forward. (Turns out there are plenty of these, as our priest was quite the randy fellow where teenage boys were concerned.) This is not an easy task, though they are able to convince one highly troubled man (played beautifully by Swann Arlaud, above) to participate.

How Ozon and his fine cast bring all the plot strands and characters -- major and minor -- together with strategy, emotion, subtlety, and even a good deal of humor is more than exemplary. In fact, the film works even better than did our Oscar-winning Spotlight from a few years back. (That's Éric Caravaca, below, right, as the smart, caring doctor who joins the group.)

The run-up to the finale is exciting, of course, but it is the what-happened-here credit crawl at the end that should put your knickers in a twist. At this point, there should be no doubt in your mind how very Catholic a country France remains. For all it has brought the world in terms of philosophy, the arts and culture, it remains given over to myth worship that is not simply appalling but utterly detrimental to any real growth.

Although the male actors are the stars here, Ozon allows his females to shine brightly, too, among them that great French actress, Josiane Balasko (above, right), playing the Arlaud character's supportive if guilt-ridden mom. After winning Silver Bear at the Berlin Film Festival, the film seems to TrustMovies to be a shoo-in for whatever the Academy has renamed the Best Foreign Language Film category this year. Scene by scene, line by line of succinct, smart dialog, By the Grace of God could hardly be bettered.

From Music Box Films, running 137 minutes and in French with English subtitles, the movie opens in New York City this Friday, October 18, at Film Forum and The Landmark at 57 West, and on October 25, it will hit Los Angeles (at the Landmark NuArt), Washington DC (at the Landmark E Street) and Cambridge, Massachusetts, at the Landmark Kendall Square. On November 8, it will open here in South Florida in the MDC Tower Theater and the Coral Gables Art Cinema. Click here then scroll down to click on Theatrical Engagements to view all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

Carols Lechuga's SANTA & ANDRÉS explores Cuba's repression of its artists and GLBTs

SANTA & ANDRÉS takes us back to territory -- the manner in which Fidel Castro's Cuba ostracized, imprisoned and worse so many artists it considered to be politically incorrect, as well as its GLBT population -- we haven't much explored since Julian Schnabel's excellent film, Before Night Falls. If this new movie from Cuban filmmaker Carlos Lechuga is not nearly as high-powered, starry (it gave Javier Bardem one of his best and most gloriously realized roles to date) nor visually accomplished as Schnabel's, it is still a humane, moving and worthwhile piece of work.

Señor Lechuga, shown at right, keeps thing small-scale in every way: small town, low-key characters, and situations in which the filmmaker tries his best to avoid melodrama, and generally does this well, without sacrificing the drama inherent in the story itself.

A woman, Santa (the powerful new actress, Lola Amores, shown below), is told by her town's authority figure to do her civic duty by "guarding" a gay writer/political prisoner, Andrés, who appears to be under some kind of "house arrest" and especially to keep him from stirring up any trouble during a conference at which important people (perhaps foreigners, too) will attend.

Cuba's "take" on the GLBT community -- nasty, repressive and more than a little backward even for its time -- is one of the great shames of the Castro era, despite the little country's large strides in education and health care for its citizens. One of the strengths of Santa & Andrés is how it makes us quietly aware of the repressive government's entry into the lives of it citizens, robbing them in the process of their very humanity and causing them to not just betray their comrades but themselves, as well.

Andrés (the sad-sack-sexy Eduardo Martinez, above) has continued writing clandestinely and initially wants as little to do with Santa, as she wants with him. Yet proximity does wonders, and very slowly the two feint and parry and slowly begin to bond.

While this is of course expected, writer/director Lechuga and his two actors handle it all so well that there is little sense of cliché or predictability here. The filmmaker also makes certain that if the bond moves one step ahead, it will just as likely soon move a step or two back.

Meanwhile we get to know that town "boss," a hot and handsome abuser who's as worthless as he is powerful (played by George Abreu), as well as a young man known as The Mute (Cesar Domínguez), who is hot, handsome and also mightily hung, who makes frequent visits to our hero and is paid with what little Andrés can offer for these trysts.

Mostly, though, it's the relationship between our two that provides the film's main interest and keeps it going and growing. Santa and Andrés go to the beach, have a drink in the local bar, confide, fight, connect and finally...  But no spoilers.

You'll be glad to have gotten to know these people, and to wonder if, after all, much has changed in Cuba since that sour time in the 1980s. Perhaps not, as this movie was banned in its home country and even withdrawn from competition in the Havana Film Festival New York. From Breaking Glass Pictures and Cinema Tropical and running 105 minutes, the movie opens tomorrow, Friday, November 10, in New York City at the Cinema Village. Elsewhere? Nothing scheduled yet, but a DVD release is expected to arrive this coming Tuesday, November 14, from Breaking Glass.

Vitaly Mansky's UNDER THE SUN attempts -- with great beauty -- to reveal North Korea...

...but as usual with documentaries about this most foreign of foreign countries (I wonder if even North Koreans find it pretty strange: probably not, as they appear to have been brainwashed into a kind of near-lobotomization by now), we get pretty much the same old thing. Yes, once again (as in last year's Songs From the North), the state and its minions control everything the documentary filmmaker sees, hears and shoots (they even write the goddamned script!), so that everything the viewer sees and hears in, UNDER THE SUN, the latest attempt to show us North Korea, is... pretense. And pretense -- especially when it is handled as obviously as it is in this "kingdom" -- soon becomes downright boring.

How can it not? And how can a filmmaker begin to tell the truth when the powers-that-be are looking over his shoulder and telling him what to do, 24/7? Well, there is the editing process, once you've left the country. So documentarian Vitaly Mansky (shown at right, and clearly suffering from a North Korean-induced migraine) seems to have confined some of that "fake" script to voice-over and then let his visuals tell a bit different story from what those in power might want. Also, in his finished film, he explains via supertitles that introduce some of the scenes, how the state consistently changed reality into whatever scenario it would rather have us see and hear.

The result of all this is more beautiful visually than we've seen before. The colors are often eye-popping, particularly in scenes such as one in what looks like a soy milk factory, and later at some sort of a group sing-along in which the women are attired in simply gorgeous, colorful costumes. Visually, the movie is much more stunning than the obviously lower-budgeted Songs From the North (hell, it's even more so than that of the much higher-budgeted Hollywood narrative comedy The Interview).

And the scenes Mr. Mansky managed to capture (I am guessing surreptitiously) of everyday North Koreans show a populace in which anything approaching normal behavior has been commandeered by the state. No wonder the people seem to walk around like zombies. (There's a scene in which one after another twosome or threesome poses in front of bright red flowers and murals of the "great leaders" that is hugely sad, as are other scenes in which Mansky's camera captures subway and escalator riders.  These visuals take us so far before repetition and boredom set in.

How many times must be watch the Korean "director" coach his subjects to do and say the scripted stuff,  smile more, and act more joyful before we get the point? A little of this goes a long way, and Under the Sun lasts 105 minutes, during which we even have to sit through some "reshoots."

And while we do get so fun and sadness out of the leading threesome (shown at left) that is forced to portray the "typical" family in the documentary, with a little girl who is particularly sweet and charming, seeing her and her parents in all these faked situations -- at school, joining a political children's group, working in a garment factory, listening to an old military man drone on, watching a dance class, in hospital, and performing in the would-be spectacular finale number -- everything here combines to tell us what we already know. Or at least think we know. And nothing we see or hear here is likely to disabuse us of these notions. (Also, the thought does arise: What happened to this family after the film was released at film festivals around the world, much to the displeasure of the North Korean government?)

So Under the Sun joins the collection of movies, books, news reports, and all else about North Korea that we already have. If there is a way to show the real thing, nobody's found it yet. Instead we get the pretense (and sidelong glances that indicate something more). Over and over again. I'm not sure what is left for us to learn from all this.

The documentary -- released via Icarus Films, in Korean with English subtitles -- opens this Wednesday, July 6, in its U.S. theatrical premiere for a one-week engagement at Film Forum in New York City. Elsewhere? Yes, and you can see all nine, currently-scheduled cities and theaters in which the film will screen by clicking here.