A devastating history of Rohingya Muslims and Buddhist hatred in Barbet Schroeder's damning documentary, THE VENERABLE W

One of the great pleasures of watching a documentary by Barbet Schroeder -- this pleasure, by the way, comes much more from filmmaking prowess, rather than subject matter (which is usually grim) -- arrives via the manner in which Schroeder allows his subject to hang him/herself via his/her own words and deeds. Whether that subject be Idi Amin, Dr. "Penny" Patterson, Jacques Vergès or, as in THE VENERABLE W., an infamous Buddhist monk by the name of Ashin Wirathu, Schroeder never needs to stack the deck against his protagonists (antagonists?) because his subjects do that so very well on their own.

In addition to his hateful Buddhist monk, the filmmaker (shown at right) here tackles a still-timely subject to which there has so far been no real help: the torture, killing and deportation from Myanmar of the (predominantly Muslim) Rohingya population. Schroeder weaves into his film the history of both this monk and the campaign against the Rohingyas -- the latter of which began long before most of us in the western world had heard about it.

From the opening scene, in which our "venerable" W (irony is ever-present here, for those monks are often referred to as "venerables") compares Muslims to a particular breed of catfish, including in his speech some very nasty specifics, this “Monk” should have his robe confiscated -- and fast. Sure, he was in prison for a time, but that did not last nearly long enough.

If  you are as unfortunately naive as TrustMovies sometimes is, you may not have realized that there could even be such a thing as Buddhist fundamentalists. Of course there can, and they are on full display in this documentary, using idiot logic and hypocrisy to both excuse and push their anti-Muslim agenda. Organize any religion -- Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist -- and some part of that organization will turn right-wing, nationalist and hateful in order to achieve power, along with its oh-so-religious goals. When W. tells us at one point, "I teach mostly children," you'll cringe all over again.

Along the way of course  you will note comparisons to a number of current dictators (or would-be dictators), from Duterte to Bolsonaro, Putin to Trump. Myanmar's military dictatorship has much to answer for, of course, but this vicious monk has an equal amount, so far as the destruction of Muslims is concerned. In addition to W, we hear from those who support him, as well as those -- both Burmese and outsiders working for change -- who do not.

When, from midway onward, we see actual footage of the killing of Muslims, the shock and horror are revolting. And yet where this dreadful hatred and murder has come from is all too clear. (There are monk militias here, for Christ's sake!) One problem with the documentary is that there is no identification of almost any of the speakers/interviewees. But if you hang on, a very good and thorough ID-ing occurs as the end credits roll.

As someone smart once told us, "religion is the opium of the people" (and if you see that quote in its full and longer context, you will also see that it is not nearly as negative as you've imagined), religion can also become a poison that can grip an entire population. From Distrib Films US, and distributed here via Icarus Films Home Video, The Venerable W. hit DVD this past Tuesday, May 19 -- for purchase and/or rental, too. 

Haiti's history meets teen romance in Bertrand Bonello's nitwit flick, ZOMBI CHILD

I've been a fan of the films of Bertrand Bonello (shown below) for years now -- Nocturama and Saint Laurent are my favorites -- so it gives me no pleasure to report that his latest, ZOMBI CHILD, is an embarrassing, unadulterated piece of crap. Unless M. Bonello is simply having us on? If so, he's managed to con most of our critical establishment, no great achievement considering the current state of movie criticism. It is not that his film has no real scares, suspense or thrills, as do most films with the word zombie (or, as here, zombi) in the title. Nor that instead of those usual attributes, a filmmaker has skewed his work toward intelligence and politics, economics, and history. Robin Campillo managed all that just about perfectly in his zombie movie, They Came Back (Les Revenants).

Here, the history of Haiti, colonization, teenage infatuation, zombie love and other subjects bounce off each other repeatedly without ever making much of a connection -- intellectually or emotionally. It takes over an hour before that connection finally arrives. And once it does, the movie just grows stupider.

TrustMovies is sorry, but it is simply not enough to toss in everything you think you know about these subjects and then expect this to somehow coalesce. You've got to make your tale resonate in an edifying manner so that your characters seem at least a tad important, maybe even believable. Bonello utterely fails at this. Plus, he's unusually sloppy (our Haitian zombie forgets to move slowly, once he's washing himself in the river).

The movie, despite its intellectual pretensions, does not even qualify as subtle or smart, for it is simply exposition piled upon more exposition, until it arrives dead on its feet -- in a way that puts to shame its own zombies.

Toggling back and forth between Haiti in the 1960s -- as one of those zombies is created to join others in the sugar-cane work force -- and an elite girls' school in present-day France, where the entitled white students form cliques and discuss boys, music and sorority nonsense, deciding whether or not to allow a new black student to join, Zombi Child moves along at the pace of the old-fashioned undead. To and fro we go, from Haiti to France, with things occasionally broken up by a nightmare or a flesh-eating fantasy. Come on, Bonello, we know you can do better than this.

Even the film's minimal special effects are cheesy -- black eyeballs yet?! -- while the finale offers up the most embarrassing use of Rodgers & Hammerstein's You'll Never Walk Alone to ever hit the screen. It makes even the ending of the movie Priest seem unduly reticent.

I am tempted to call this film a piece of intentional camp. But, no, I know in my heart that the camp here in unintentional. More's the pity.

From Film Movement and running 103 very long minutes, Zombi Child hits DVD and digital today, Tuesday, May 19 -- for purchase and, I would guess, rental. Your move.

Our May Sunday corner With Lee Liberman -- GOD'S OWN COUNTRY: The Grace of Kindness

This post is written by our 

monthly correspondent, Lee Liberman

On 5/20/20, IndieWire reported on the censorship of Francis Lee’s film and it has already been pulled from the Amazon Prime free lineup. The original is still available to rent or buy from Amazon. Lee writes below that the culprit was Goldwyn Films not Prime Video: 

 “After investigation, ‘God’s Own Country’ was not censored by Prime Video (Amazon USA) but by the US distributor Goldwyn Films who butchered the streaming version without consultation to get more ‘revenue.’ Prime Video were incredibly supportive in rectifying. The rental version of ‘God’s Own Country’ on Prime Video is the correct version of my film. I would like to thank Amazon Prime for being supportive and I would caution any filmmaker of working with the aforementioned ‘distributor.’  

Thank you everyone for all your support.”

We are in present-day Yorkshire, northern England, during the sheep foaling season of early spring, where a single day will dispense snow, wind, sun, and rain that slices raw through the body, on a rural sheep farm that struggles for survival on the moor. (Yorkshire, in the shadow of the Pennines mountains, has been affectionately called ‘God’s Own County’ for hundreds of years.)

Actor-turned-writer-director Francis Lee (at left) grew up on these moors and filmed his first full-length feature (2017) here near his birthplace. It has been lauded in England (nominated for BAFTA film of the year), hugely popular in Europe, scored 98% on Rotten Tomatoes, and prized at many film festivals, but passed over by the Oscars. See it now via Amazon to get lost in its brutal magic.

The solitary Johnny Saxby (Josh O’Connor, below: The Crown, Only You), lives with his ailing father Martin (the self-effacing, nuanced, wonderful Ian Hart, two photos below, left: Harry Potter, The Last Kingdom) and grandmother (enduring actress, Gemma Jones, two photos below, right: Bridget Jones' Diary, Gentleman Jack) — the three tasked with the relentless demands of their farm.

Johnny‘s classmates are in college, but he grumpily carries on with the burdens of animal husbandry and crumbling stone walls, chided by his father and Nan ( below). He doesn’t think or let himself feel; he’s so well-defended he comes off as a dolt, working vacantly, having furtive sex at the pub, home to vomit the nightly binge, sleep, rinse, and repeat.

Johnny isn’t really love-starved (although his mother left the farm when he was a child), rather this family is starved of emotional intelligence and expression. They bark and grunt at each other, admonish and never affirm — the trio as dour as the climate. Martin’s masculinity is draining away as he struggles with mobility and worry, Nan perpetually scolds, and Johnny wears his defenses like a hair shirt— ‘I’m a fuck-up’.

Into this scene is imported a change agent, an immigrant farm worker, Gheorghe (Alec Secareanu, above, right, up-and-coming Romanian actor from PBS’s Baptiste and the lead in Romola Garai’s new Amulet, opening July 2020), hired to replace Martin’s labor during the busy lambing season. Gheorghe is Romanian like the actor, his story arc quietly invoking the plight of ubiquitous immigrant outsider. He laments the abandonment of his home country by its youth, but unlike Johnny, his glass is half-full. He is intuitively in harmony with the rhythms of the farm and models to Johnny how to function and survive in a demanding landscape.

A runt that would have been abandoned at birth (above), is brought back to life with Gheorghe’s ministrations; he clothes it in the skin of an already dead lamb (rear of picture), coat-sweater-like.

Then he nurtures it until the mother takes it back. He uses disinfectant on animals’ injuries, assesses Johnny’s bruised hands, and is proactive about repairing the farm’s boundary wall, leaving Johnny perplexed and unnerved by Gheorghe’s instinctive good will.

Johnny’s uncomprehending reaction is to goad him, calling him ‘gyp’ (gypsy), until Gheorghe erupts furiously and pins him to the ground.

With a combination of limit-setting and kindness, Gheorghe makes a dent in the hollow affect of the three Saxby’s — especially Johnny’s, who begins to take on the running of the farm with new purpose and even a little good will.

It’s a bit of a fairy tale, a Cinderella story in which kindness is the transforming gift, but here is the less ordinary: This is a romance between two men with a happy ending. There’s no rejection by family, no death from AIDS or unrequited love — just the prospect that two people might make something more permanent of a transcient hookup and live ever after— well, if not happily, then giving it a go. It’s as though films about gay characters have begun, under Francis Lee’s stewardship, to catch up with old-style Hollywood romance where the couple walks off into the sunset — no problem. The two call each other ‘faggot’ affectionately, investing the slur with the caring between them.

Led by its art-makers, is our era beginning to move past the rejection of gay life and embrace at least a modicum of civility? Mr. Lee is chipping away at the ice. For all its parts combined, his movie has struck a note of grace in which God’s Own Country is both gorgeous Yorkshire and rich subject matter to a mainstream audience that is being dragged kicking and screaming into a more nuanced present. This is a film about two people coming to terms with emotions and environment. It features two young gay characters, but the truth of their relationship, and of the family including father and grandmother, is more universal — it is about the transformative nature of kindness and self-acceptance.

Sweet, smart, feel-good fun: Jeremy LaLonde/ Jonas Chernick's JAMES VS HIS FUTURE SELF

Can a sci-fi premise, already a tad unbelievable simply by virtue of its being science-fiction, succeed via the strength, intensity and just-plain-earnestness of its performances? Yes: If it has all that plus some very good writing and direction. JAMES VS HIS FUTURE SELF -- a smart, sweet, witty combo of sci-fi, rom-com and important life lessons -- is on my best-of-year list already. It left me in tears, not of sadness but outright delight, due to how well-handled, in every way, it so thoroughly is. Movies that succeed this beautifully often get that reaction from me, and this one managed it in spades.

Sci-fi films, historically, have been replete with life lessons -- though many of the bigger would-be-blockbusters tend to offer those of the apocalyptic, end-of-humanity-in-one-way-or-another sort. The absolute joy of James Vs His Future Self comes via its small-scale, just-one-guy-and-his-problems premise: the eponymous James, played by the film's co-writer and co-star, Jonas Chernick (below, left of another marvelous Canadian movie, My Awkward Sexual Adventure). Oh, the film does have humanity headed for a not-so-nice time, but this is used predominantly for toss-away humor (oh, god -- the end of tomatoes!). What Chernick and director and co-writer Jeremy LeLonde (shown above) make certain we care about most is James and those very few but vital folk who surround him.

These would include BFF and maybe more, played with complete, fall-in-love-with-her charm, sex appeal and beauty by Cleopatra Coleman (above, right) and an actor we just don't see enough of anymore, Daniel Stern (below).

Stern plays the other part of the eponymous title, and he plays it so damned well that the fact that he and Chernick possess completely different faces and body types doesn't matter in the slightest. Both actors are so alert, incisive and in the moment that they carry us along like a river run wild.

Time travel is the sci-fi theme here, and the fact that we've seen this more times than can be counted on fingers and toes matters not one whit. The filmmakers bring such spontaneity and wit, along with charm and surprise, to their mix that I suspect, from first scene onward, you'll be hooked.  (That's Frances Conroy, above, who does a bang-up job with her two or three scenes.)

Four of the five leading characters in the film are physicists; only James' sister, played by Tommie-Amber Pirie, above) is not among the uber-intelligentsia, but she's a nice addition, in any case. This is such a genuinely delightful movie, I can fully understand why, as of now, it's at 100% on Rotten Tomatoes.

From Gravitas Ventures and running just 95 minutes, James Vs His Future Self has been available on VOD since the beginning of the month. Check your local service provide or go to the usual suspect to find it fast.

Claymation, Chile and Nazi Germany offshoots combine in Joaquín Cociña and Cristóbal León's first full-length feature, THE WOLF HOUSE

Strange does not begin to describe the "bizarrosities" you'll find in THE WOLF HOUSE, the debut full-lengther (after a number of short films) from the creative duo of Chilean-born artists and filmmakers, Cristóbal León and Joaquín Cociña. Jumping off from storytelling and fairytales into Nazism and Chile's own not-so-long-past fling with a dictator who gloried in torture and murder, the pair use symbols of just about every sort -- colors to animals to you-name-it -- to tell their fractured tale of a young woman, her two "children," and the descent into fascism.

Señores León and Cociña (shown above, with the latter on the left) seem to prefer the dark and the allusive to the lighter and more obvious. While this may sound promising (and for awhile it certainly is), for TrustMovies, this eventually weighs their movie down to the point that I grew tired of the utter dankness and repetition of being constantly hammered by symbols and what eventually seemed like awfully obvious, if not cheap-jack psychology.

For those of us who know and understand (granted, in my case, from afar) Chile's history and duality, the movie has its dark rewards, and I should think it will resonate most strongly in its homeland, and other nearby South American countries, each of which has had its own history of dictatorship and huge human-rights abuses. (As we here in the USA may ourselves soon have even more of.) Also, I suspect that shrinks and/or students/teachers of psychology will find much to marvel over here.

How you react to the animation may be another matter. I went into the viewing, as I do with all movies, without reading much about the film. I prefer to figure things out for myself -- this is simply more rewarding, overall, than being told by critics and/or publicists what you are about to see -- and this also allows surprise to do its work. Once I'd watched The Wolf House, I went back to read more about it, and I admit that the manner in which the artists did the filming is unusual and in its way impressive. (You can read more about that, should you choose to, here.)

While the claymation/stop-motion animation is often formidable visually, I don't think these artists have found anything close to a real storytelling ability with which to match their art. Symbols (with a little history tossed in) may be fine for awhile, but when that's what's mostly there, it all begins to pale. The brothers Grimm used symbols, too, intentionally or not, but they also knew how to tell a whale of a tale.

I originally watched The Wolf House almost two months ago, and unfortunately the notes I took seem to have gone with the wind. I don't have the time (or the desire) to view it again, but I remember all too well my initial reaction of being impressed with the art, while understanding the symbols, politics and philosophy, without finally caring a whole lot about the movie itself.

The film is unusual enough in a number of ways, however, that you may well have a different reaction. Running just 73 minutes, in German and Spanish with English subtitles, The Wolf House was to have opened theatrically in various cities but is now getting a virtual-theater debut nationwide, beginning this Friday, May 15, via KimStim. Click here then scroll down for more information and/or to see the very long list of participating virtual theaters across the country.  

THE SEQUEL covers the work of British writer/ historian/economist/ecologist David Fleming

The impossibility of consistent, increasing economic growth -- that growth is one of the tenets of Capitalism, now coming home to roost in globalism's henhouse of horror -- was, not coincidentally, one of the tenets of a forward-thinking fellow named David Fleming (on poster, right), who died in 2010 and is now receiving some of the credit due him for his progressive ideas.

The hour-long presentation, THE SEQUEL, just out on DVD and co-written and directed by Peter Armstrong tries with some success to give us the basic ideas of Fleming, while simultaneously demonstrating how they can be applied to what's happening worldwide today.

The approach of Mr. Armstrong (I think that is he, shown at left) and that of Shaun Chamberlin (shown below) -- the latter served as co-writer and executive producer of the film and for whom Fleming was a teacher and mentor -- is a bit scattershot.

There's a little history, a little biography, and a lot of contemporary application of Fleming's ideas -- after which and eventually some of this coalesces into both a philosophy and a kind of primer on what's coming to this world we inhabit, and how we might best deal with that future.

Mr. Chamberlin, who managed to bring Fleming's long-gestating oeuvre to posthumous publication as Lean Logic: A Dictionary for the Future and How  to Survive It, clearly had a very loving relationship with his mentor, and that love can be felt throughout this short film.

During the course of the documentary we see a number of ways in which human beings can learn to rely on what Fleming called the "informal economy" rather than on the market economy; feeding our selves locally, rather than using supermarkets (which are here referred to as scams); making use of local shops (as below) devoted to fixing broken things rather than discarding them and buying new ones; and overall letting go of our current culture, civilization and all the rest of it.

Of course this takes some heavy-duty discipline, or as in the case of the country of Greece, below -- shown here as a kind of hallmark of the new world, thanks to its utterly failed market economy -- which was instead forced into having to learn new ways of adapting, particularly where health care is concerned. There are lots of talking heads throughout the film, and what most of them have to say makes a certain amount of sense.

You may, as did I, bridle at the section devoted to "encounter" (in this case with a muntjac deer, below), in which we are meant to empathize so strongly with an animal that we can somehow fully understand and "feel" it. As much as some of us might love, appreciate and want to protect animals and their environment, at this point in the film, you may start rolling your eyes and muttering, "Don't fuck things up with this nonsense!"

Otherwise, however, The Sequel has a lot to offer. If, in its positive-thinking manner, it chooses to mostly ignore mankind's history and proclivity toward power, greed and slavery (which certainly fuel Capitalism and the market economy as much as does anything else), it at least offers a partial roadmap for traveling the continuing downturn of that economy.

From Bullfrog Films (distributed by Icarus Home Video) and running just 61 minutes, the film hit DVD last month and is available now for purchase (and, I hope somewhere soon, for rental, too). At the very least this short film should have viewers eager and willing to go back to its source.

Environmental pollution vs neighborhoods of color in Alexander John Glustrom's dire doc, MOSSVILLE: When Great Trees Fall

Right off the bat, we meet a local undertaker who informs us, "Mossville is a small community. But a lot of people do die." Gosh: You think there might be a problem here? More like a mini-apocalypse. Mossville, the very-nearly late and lamented town, as well as MOSSVILLE: When Great Trees Fall, the documentary that tells the town's terrible story, slap you in the kisser with the connection between deliberate environmental pollution and the destruction of not merely individuals but entire communities -- most readily those inhabited by minorities and the poor.

There's nothing subtle about the message or the style here. As directed by Alexander John Glustrom, the film may be about as awful and depressing as any you've seen regarding this growing problem worldwide.  The documentary also seems rather hit-or-miss as to what it has the time and budget to cover. Yet even this somehow works to the film's advantage, as it manages to include what's most important, while doing this in a 75-minute time frame.

In that short period, Mr. Glustrom gives us a history of the town (it began just post-slavery, as seven families joined forces to begin the community, and it had prospered ever since -- until large industry came in and began its destruction).

The latest industry to creep in has been SASOL (a South African-based firm that stands for South African Synthetic Oil Liquid), which we see at work both here, building its new Louisiana plant, and at home, where it began during Apartheid and has continued suppressing South African blacks ever since. (We even see Louisiana's ex-governor Bobby Jindal making his sell-out speech regarding SASOL.)

The man the movie concentrates on most fully is also one of Mossville's last residents: Stacey Ryan (above), a husband and father whose refusal to leave Mossville, where he was born and raised, has resulted in his increasing ill health and living apart from his family. We watch as Stacey must provide his own heat, gas and water -- as all utilities no longer reach his home, thanks to SASOL and the local government.

The final indignity comes when the company tries to prevent him from even driving up to and/or leaving his place of residence. They cannot do this legally, however, so for once Stacey wins the day. The photo above shows his tiny piece of land and home surrounded by a fence he has built; below, we see SASOL's encroachment upon that land.

As the documentary moves inexorably along, you'll probably find yourself alternately sad and/or seething, over and over again. Put yourself in Mr. Ryan's shoes, and you'll feel the kind of torture that leads to a slow, agonizing death. The film makes its necessary point about how environmental pollution and human rights abuses are linked due to the kind of corporate power and sleazy politicians that see lives  -- particularly these kinds of lives -- as utterly expendable.

By the way, the would-be "buy-outs" SASOL offers Mossville residents are shown to be so paltry that they do not allow those residents to move into decent accommodation elsewhere. When, toward movie's end, Ryan prays to his parents, long dead from cancer like so many other Mossville folk, "Daddy, mommy: Give me strength," and then, "Dear Lord, just give me enough time to see my baby raised, then I can go see my parents," you will be ready to plead with the man to toss in the towel. And hope that someone has the courage and smarts to get SASOL off the face of the earth.

Technical aspects are all they need to be, with the music of Carlos José Alvarez properly beautiful, solemn and dirge-like. From Passion River, the documentary opened in virtual theaters this past weekend in New York, Los Angeles and elsewhere. Click here to find the theater(s) nearest you.