At NYC's Film Forum: the state of Israel now via Shimon Dotan's unsettling THE SETTLERS, and a look at what might have been in Yariv Mozer's must-see BEN-GURION, EPILOGUE

If you haven't yet had your fill of Israeli documentaries (or even if you think you have), the pair that opens this week at Film Forum in New York City are important ones. Both are smart and entertaining but go well beyond that to provide a look at Israel's present state, together with its lost and, it would seem, increasingly irretrievable past. Shimon Dotan's THE SETTLERS, more than any recent documentary or narrative film from Israel that I've seen, makes clear the utter intractability of the current situation, as well as the idea of any kind of peaceful arrangement between Israel and a "state" of Palestine as very nearly impossible.

Mr. Dotan, shown at right, makes it immediately clear that many of the "settlers" -- those Israelis who have built homes in the territories occupied (or "held," as the legal term in Israel would have it) during the period since the Six-Day War of 1967 -- do not approve of this name for themselves. "A settler is someone who lives on land that is not his," one of them explains, and it soon becomes clear that these people believe they have an absolute right -- via prophecy, religion, a divine calling, whatever -- to not just this particular land, but as one young man would have it, any land, "as far as we can see," here in the middle east.

I am guessing that the testimony Dotan draws from the settlers he has interviewed is fairly typical of the feelings of many if not most of them. Only one in the bunch appears not to have a sense of absolute entitlement and expansionist aims. Though in defiance of the Geneva Convention and barely even quasi-legal by Israeli standards, these settlements have grown immensely over time in number and quantity of population within.

According to the film, even the single time that the government cracked down on the settlements and appeared to dismantle certain of them was more of a public relations maneuver to make it appear that the government was offering something up to the Palestinian side. And while no new "settlements" have appeared in some time, there has been plenty of expansion of those already here. In any case, who needs new settlements, when the current and newer name coined for expansion is the "outpost?" We see a number of these outposts in action.

The movie, in its wide-reaching arc, interviews the settlers and gives us some history of the settlements, includes the views of Israeli scholars and legal experts (but only a very few Palestinians), and gives us quite a lot to consider regarding history, Jewish law vs democracy, land and its occupation, and religion and its discontents. Notes one scholar with some irony, "The messianic drive grows stronger when the prophecy fails."

As one interviewee puts it, "The sewage of European nationalism is being piped into the core of Judaism." And it must be said that most of the settlers whom we hear come across as entitled, ugly extremists. The first Jewish baby born in Hebron gives them, in their view, the right to this city. We also learn of the "three mayors" whom the settlers decided were "terrorist leaders." The facts, opinions and history here all build toward a conclusion that to some, like me, will seem horrifying and stupid. Others will no doubt see this as a glorious sign of god's will. Good luck to us all.

To view the companion documentary, BEN-GURION, EPILOGUE, and to listen to the words of its subject, David Ben-Gurion -- the primary founder and first Prime Minister of the state of Israel -- is rather like turning the page from the awful current state of this little country and discovering a time of such hope and possibility that should make you wonder at the prospects that were present, and then despair at what has been lost or destroyed over the decades since then.

At the time of Israel's creation and during the decade or so afterward, TrustMovies was young enough not to have had much of social or political conscience. (He knew slavery was wrong, of course, but that was about the extent of it.) So the character and views of Ben-Gurion were completely new to him as he watched this documentary, culled from a six-hour interview (that was never seen nor heard) with the late Prime Minister (when Ben-Gurion was 82 and retired from politics) by a British journalist/filmmaker Clinton Bailey. shown below, left, during the interview.

Even the sound track to the interview had been lost for decades and was only recently found and put together with the visuals. The six hours were then distilled to around 70 minutes by filmmaker/editor by Yariv Mozer (shown two photos above), who also directed Snails in the Rain), and the result is one of the most thoughtful, surprising, and finally moving and edifying docs concerning Israel that I've yet seen.

What a man this Ben-Gurion was! We learn of his history; his marriage; his wife, Paula and her love for the ideas of Emma Goldman; and his own ideas and his hopes for this then-new country. What he tells us makes such wonderful and obvious sense, and hearing it now, against what we see and hear in The Settlers, adds up to a sad and mournful eulogy to what might have been. I would love to add "and still might be." But I really don't believe this is any longer possible.

In any case, here Ben-Gurion is, standing on his head in competition with Yehudi Menuhin, talking about Moses and a nation of higher virtues, in a TV interview with Ed Murrow and Burma's U Nu, and with Ray Charles, as the latter sings and plays piano. To hear him and his Palestinian counterpart speak of the possibilities for peace will bring salty tears to your tired eyes.  As a certain Dr. Feldenkrais notes along the way, "Will power is what you need when you don't want to do what you need to do. Ben Gurion doesn't work on will power. He likes what he does."  You must experience this remarkable documentary.

The Settlers (released by Bond/360 and running 108 minutes) and Ben-Gurion, Epilogue (released by Go2 Films and running 70 minutes)  will be showing at New York City's Film Forum, beginning Friday, March 3. Unfortunately, each requires separate admission. They're both wonderful, but the Ben-Gurion's a fucking knockout. To view further playdates, cities and theaters for The Settlers click here. I can't find any info on further screenings of the Ben-Gurion doc, but feel free to reach out to the distributor for information.

Alexander Sokurov's FRANCOFONIA explores culture & history, war & peace, art & museums

Alexander Sokurov surely is a versatile director. In this new century alone (he's been making movies for over 40 years), his work has spanned the groundbreaking "one-take" museum piece, Russian Ark, to the breathtakingly strange and beautiful Father and Son to The Sun (narratively documenting the abdication of the Japanese Emperor at the close of WWII) to the nearly unbearably moving Alexandra to his version of Faust and now, another "museum" movie that harks back to that Ark and yet is definitely its own thing: FRANCOFONIA.

Mr. Sokurov, pictured at left, often writes, as well as directs his films and he has done so here again. While his visual skills are as fine as ever, it's his memorable writing that turns Francofonia into the special thing that it is. He begins with what sound like phone conversations regarding the very film we're about to see, and then we get visuals of writers such as Chekhov and Tolstoi, then Skype-ing with a fellow named Dirk, during which we hear, "It's not human, dragging art across the ocean!" Only slowly does the content of the movie begin to take shape: art and culture, history and museums, war and peace -- and Sokurov's musings on all of these. And when I call them "musings," this is not to say that they aren't pretty delightful, thought-provoking,and oh, so beautifully spoken (if I am not mistaken, Sokurov does his own narration).

As usual with this man's movies, you'd best pay absolute attention to the visuals and the audio or miss something vital, as Sokurov combines archival footage with beautifully recreated film that looks quite "dated" (it even has that "tracking" strip that runs down the left hand side), making his modern stuff seem archival, too. This is quite nifty.

Rather than giving us a tour of the Louvre, as he did with the Hermitage Museum in Russian Ark, instead he zeros in on that period of the famous French museum during which the Nazis took over half of France, Paris and the museum itself. We get history recreated and narrated, with two fine actors portraying the Frenchman and the German who did the most to "save" the museum's artworks.

The ubiquitous Louis-Do de Lencquesaing (above) portrays Jacques Jaujard, the man in charge of the Louvre, while Benjamin Utzerath plays Franz Wolff-Metternich, the German officer charged with overseeing the art treasures the Nazis took ownership of as they conquered and occupied country after country.  The two men's story runs in and out and around Sokurov's musings in a way that brings us back again and again to the subjects at hand.

Also along for the ride (and the humor they bring) are little Napoleon Bonaparte (Vincent Nemeth, below, right) and Marianne, that symbol of French womanhood and liberty Johanna Korthals Altes, below, left). And while the filmmaker gets a lot of mileage out of Nappy, I wish he could have brought a little more thought and wit to his Marianne, who seems to exist mostly to flounce and gambol like one of those recent Terrence Malick heroines. This may have more to do with the usual filmmaker patriarchal entitlement to "stick with the guys" than anything else. But it does seem a missed opportunity.

Otherwise, Francofonia is a non-stop delight, offering up lovely visuals, even as it gives us non-stop ironies about art and culture, war and various kinds of peace/collaboration. The film would make a fine bookend to the popular French TV series, A French Village, about the country's occupation during WWII, At one point the narration mentions that the "same old slow-seller" has once again appeared on the market. "The product may be very expensive or be free. Yet the price of this product is always set by the buyer. What is it? Can you guess? Think it over...."

The movie rests on what Sokurov chooses to tell us, and how and when, and against which visuals he places all this. His choices could hardly be bettered, and his finale is as splendid as the rest of the film, as he gives his two main characters (and us) a look into their very interesting futures. The movie ends with a shot of two empty chairs, and then a blood-red screen which, in time, turns to a more peaceful blue. Quite fitting. And wonderful,

From Music Box Films, in Russian, French and German with English subtitles and running just 87 minutes, Francofonia opens this Friday, April 1, in New York City at Film Forum and the Lincoln Plaza Cinema, and then over the weeks and months to come, elsewhere across the country in some 30 cities. In the Los Angeles area, look for it to open on April 15 at Laemmle's Royal, Playhouse 7 and Town Center 5. Click here and then click on THEATERS (about one-third of the way down the screen) to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and venues. 

THE COLORS OF THE MOUNTAIN: Carlos César Arbeláez's haunting Colombian film

Has futility ever looked so gorgeous? It's hard to image a more beautiful movie than this one, taking place in the highlands of Colombia, where the colors are bright and true, but the life endured makes that spot between rock and hard place look practically alluring. The award-winning film THE COLORS OF THE MOUNTAIN is the first full-length narrative feature from Carlos César Arbeláez (shown below), a Colombian filmmaker who earlier made a number of television documentaries and a couple of shorts. His command of movie-making is, not surprisingly, quite assured, and he draws very good performances from his mostly fledgling cast of children (his adult actors have more professional resumes).

Arbeláez's cinematogapher is Oscar Jimenez, who did a very unusual little romantic comedy/travel movie called The Art of Travel a few years back. This one is even more beautiful, and part of its enormous push-pull impact is due to the irony of the breathtaking vistas pitted against the despicable political conditions forced upon the locals. Within a few scenes, we're aware of something severely amiss. Though we see no actual fighting, there appears to be near-constant combat between paramilitary troops and the guerrillas. Both groups insist on the loyalty of the indigenous population -- which makes for an impossible situation. The people who live here must commit to one side only, and so will be eventually killed by the other. Fun, huh?

Yet there is some genuine fun, even occasional delight to be found in the lives of the local children whose parents have kept them as far away from danger and concern as possible  As the movie proceeds, this protection collapses, but until then, these young best-friends have some charming times and adventures -- all of which are overlaid and underlaid with trauma. (Note the scene in which one boy shows another his collection of bullets, and a guessing-game ensures.)

Soccer is the kids' main concern, though they seem to do well enough at school. Their teacher, however, is new, quite dedicated and as yet untutored in how bad the sitation is. She'll learn. Meanwhile, the kids' precious soccer ball goes missing in a field that's been land-mined. (How we and they learn of this provides one of the film's biggest surprises -- and one of its only "special effects.") Along the way, we discover how life in this small mountain community works, and how it impacts on the larger city nearby where trade is negotiated and livings are made.

The three children we come to know best are soccer enthusiast Manuel (played by Hernán Mauricio Ocampo, above and below, left, and further above kicking that ball), his older, taller friend Julián (played by Nolberto Sánchez (above, center) and third-wheel Poca Luz, an albino boy with thick glasses (brought to delightful life by Genaro Aristizábal, above, right). Each has his cross to bear, none of which are at all easy. But the kids keep the movie a bit light-hearted, at least.

Señor Arbeláez treads a difficult line between realism and something akin to a "family film." He makes us aware of the danger, and the inordinately fraught situation for the adults, but shows very little direct violence or bloodshed. We see in one late scene the results of this on a local man, and we also hear gun shots in the distance. Adult viewers will put two and two together; children will need some explaining. All in all, the film works -- and better than you might expect. We never learn anything specific about the political situation or the stance of either the military or guerrillas, but so far as the locals are concerned -- and it is they for whom we care -- this does not matter. As the graffitti-atop-grafitti on the schoolhouse wall indicates, both groups want victory for themselves and death for their enemy, while the teacher and her kids want life and peace. Their contribution to that wall, below, proves beautiful and memorable (you'll have to see the fiim to view their gorgeous mural) -- but it certainly will not last.

The Colors of the Mountain, in Spanish with English subtitles and a running time of 88 minutes, opens in New York City at the Cinema Village on Friday, May 6, with other playdates and cities possible over the months to come. Click here, then scroll down to see a complete listing.