For whatever reason, I’ve unfairly neglected the Documentary Competition at London Film Festival. This year, I sort of stumbled upon it. I think the best thing about LFF is that, if you go looking, you’ll always find a good surprise. As I was unable to make it into town most days due to Long Covid, I turned to the Digital Viewing Library to get my fix. Luckily for me, a number of the Documentary Competition were available and I thought I’d check them out. I soon became stunned by previous ambivalence, as I found the Documentary Competition would define my festival experience. This year’s competition was phenomenal; a collection of films that had been expertly crafted by passionate filmmakers who had devoted years of their lives to these incredible stories. I made short documentaries in University and learned how difficult a craft it is —you have to pour your blood, sweat, tears and time (so much time!) into it. You have to constantly adapt, you have to create safe environments for your subjects, you have to give your whole life to it. That is to say, while watching these films, I had nothing but the utmost respect for the filmmakers out there who are on the ground doing the hard work. The Grierson Award looks to recognise feature-length documentaries with integrity, originality and social or cultural significance. It delivered on its promise and then some.
This year’s Award-Winner Mother Vera follows a young nun in a hidden Orthodox monastery in Belarus. The film’s striking visual style, which is influenced by co-director’s Alys Tomlinson’s professional photography work, makes Mother Vera an unforgettable experience. The film is shot in striking black and white, reminiscent at times of the cinema of Bella Tarr, and it is one of the most dazzling documentaries I’ve ever seen. Co-directors Tomlinson and Cécile Embleton vividly capture a sense of place, granting their audience unbelievable access to the monastery, while also giving us an emotional insight into Vera’s personal journey in finding faith. The filmmaker’s expertly handle surprising real-life events and trust their audience to understand events which happen off camera. There’s poetry in the images and a soul-searching to the story that left this floating around in my head for the last few weeks. I sincerely hope Mother Vera gets UK Distribution. It is a film that deserves to be seen on the big screen. You can follow updates about the film at motherverafilm.co.uk/.
Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing taught millions globally, but the software’s Haitian-born cover model vanished decades ago. In Seeking Mavis Beacon, two DIY detectives search for the model while posing questions about identity and artificial intelligence. A sprawling, stream of consciousness approach made it easy (for me at least) to empathise with the filmmakers, Jazmin Jones and Olivia McKayla Ross. It’s fascinating to watch this Gen Z approach play out; self-aware filmmaking which constantly questions its own ethics, ethos and approach. My knee-jerk reaction was that the film would benefit from being more focused, but on reflection I think it would lose its heart and identity. It’s invigorating and inspiring to watch the process of these young filmmakers going out and making a film. So many of us talk about it, so many of us have those films that are still in the drawer, whereas we watch these two work around every obstacle to produce something that feels singular. It is undoubtedly their film – it taps into the excitement of having a great conversation; it goes off on tangents, it asks questions it can’t always answer and it understands it’s the process of having the conversation which is enjoyable. I feel like Seeking Mavis Beacon could end up meaning a lot to certain people and that feels special. On that note, I found it really affecting to see someone onscreen grappling with elements of chronic illness and still trying to forge ahead with their life. This is a film which understands wholeheartedly how much representation matters and it rocks.
Collective Monologue explores notions of care and captivity from the perspective of Maca, a zookeeper who works between various zoos in Argentina. Once I eventually settled into the rhythm I started to appreciate the way Jessica Sarah Rinland allows her audience to draw their own conclusions. She lets the images speak for themselves. Her own cinematic language feels inquisitive and it’s always a joy to discover the world through someone else’s eyes. Collective Monologue is a film that investigates grey areas, like the contradiction of passion and care in an environment that has historically imprisoned. These contradictions exist in the imagery; the tenderness of close contact between carers and enclosed animals, the genuine caring encouragement to cajole an animal into a cage, the misplaced attempt to recreate an elephant’s natural habitat. This is another sensationally photographed film and I immediately want to check out some of Rinland’s other work, while also hoping to have another chance to see this film on the big screen in the future.
Holloway follows six women who were formerly incarcerated at what was once the largest women’s prison in Europe. The women are invited to explore the now abandoned building, while also sharing their experiences with each other over a five-day workshop. Holloway is a brutal, honest exploration of the human cost of the prison system. The contributors bravely work through their trauma, slowly sharing their different experiences of incarceration and the circumstances that lead them there. I was moved by their testimonies, their lives and their strength of character. This is another film that grapples with the ethics of documentary filmmaking — it includes a sequence where the women ask to have conversations off camera and the producer openly encourages them to have them on camera, but with the promise that no footage will be included in the final cut without their expressed approval. It was an interesting trend this year to see multiple filmmakers being upfront about their process on camera. I personally found Holloway very powerful. I managed to see it with a packed audience, where you could feel the effect it was having on everyone in the room. The film is currently without UK Distribution and I sincerely hope that changes soon.
Part of the magic of LFF is gambling on a film you don’t know anything about. It turns out I’d grabbed a ticket to the premiere of The Shadow Scholars. It was great to be a part of a screening that was filled with people who have a personal connection to the filmmakers or the film. We all know how hard it is to get a film made and it was brilliant to be part of an event where the mood, before and after, was celebration. Shadow Scholars, a Channel 4 production executive produced by Steve McQueen, follows Oxford Professor Patricia Kingori as she travels to Kenya to uncover the murky, multi-billion global underworld of essay-writing. Director Eloise King sheds light on the incredible true story of how thousands of unemployed and overqualified Kenyans are being paid by students across the globe to write essays towards their University and PHD qualifications. The film grapples with themes of exploitation, culpability and the consequences of the rise of AI.
Kamay follows a Hazara family, in the remote mountains of Afghanistan, who embark on a journey for truth and justice after their daughter Zahra mysteriously dies at Kabul University. I think what the filmmakers are doing is really important – this is sensitive, reflective filmmaking with a humanitarian focus. It’s an ode to strength in adversity, to find the will to continuously push back against a broken judicial system which, for example, withholds the personal belongings of the deceased long after they’ve gone. The film captures how exhausting it is to keep fighting for something you shouldn’t have to fight for. It is also a haunting portrait of a family in grief. There are unflinching sections of this film, which co-directors Shahrokh Bikran and Ilyas Yoursih handle with great care, that are likely to reopen old wounds for anyone who has lost someone dear to them. As the country’s political landscape changes, with cameras still rolling on the eve of the Taliban takeover of the country, it makes you once again appreciate the filmmaker’s who are on the ground doing the essential work.
There are some absolutely beautiful frames in Rising Up At Night, Nelson Makengo’s debut feature about the inhabitants of Kinshasa, who live their lives in darkness and struggle for access to electricity and light. Makengo’s extraordinary visual eye creates painting-esq moments that are full of depth and detail. There is one of a community, gathered closely together beneath a sole small light, which has stayed with weeks after watching. There are a number of scenes of religious worship, rhythmically cut together, which create a strong sense of place. Like you can feel the mechanics of Kinshasa as a living, breathing space. Makengo highlights the dangers of a city bathed in darkness of bored inhabitants, safety issues for women, while also celebrating the strength of a community who find ways to will themselves through what many of us would consider unliveable.
The only film in competition that I didn’t manage to see was Witches, Elizabeth Sankey’s deeply personal documentary which examines the relationship between the cinematic portrayals of witches and the all-too-real experiences of postpartum depression. The film will be streaming exclusively at MUBI from the 22nd of November.
Jimmy’s Archive – London Film Festival 2024 – Part Two: Documentary Competition
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