BFF ’18: Asian Girls (short)

Chan is a shy Chinese seamstress who probably does not have the time or money to enjoy horror movies. Weirdly, she starts to suspect Yamada, her gothy Japanese supermodel neighbor is bringing the j-horror to her. However, perceptions and preconceptions cannot always be trusted in Hyun Lee’s short film Asian Girls (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Brooklyn International Film Festival.

Many nights, Chan wakes from a dream in which Yamada is knelling over her in bed. She considers it a nightmare, but maybe some viewers would not. In this unidentified megalopolis, space is at such a premium, the classes are forced to live in close proximity, but that does not breed familiarity or understanding—quite the contrary in fact.

During the dialogue-free film, we see both women going about their daily existences. While their lifestyles are radically different, they are equally solitary. They also happen to represent two very different media archetypes of Asian women: the worker prole and the sexualized vamp. Lee cleverly uses the visual vocabulary of horror movies, especially Japanese horror conventions, to address such stereotyping. She also rather cleverly pulls off the twist at the end.

Frankly, Lee and cinematographer Grégoire Lière give the film such a sleek, stylish look, we rather wish it were longer, with a plottier narrative. On the other hand, it would be hard to sustain the wordlessness, which really works well in the context of the seven-minute film. Indeed, it makes the sinister sound design even joltier.

Rainbow Chan and Stella Leung are both wonderfully expressive, yet still craftily mysterious as Chan and Yamada respectively. It quite a cinematic piece of weirdness that should please Asian horror fans. Highly recommended, Asian Girls screens again this Sunday (6/10), as part of this year’s Brooklyn Film Festival.

BFF ’18: Okaasan (Mom) (short)

Ever since the 1930s, Japanese cinema has had a comparative advantage producing domestic dramas. It helped that filmmakers like Yasujiro Ozu and Yasujiro Shimizu were just so good at it. Fittingly, Japanese-American filmmaker-thesp Kana Hatakeyama follows in this tradition with her short film about Japanese homecomings. A daughter studying abroad learns it won’t be easy, but maybe she can come home again in Hatakeyama’s Okaasan (Mom), which screens during this year’s Brooklyn Film Festival (trailer here).

The absence of men in this family is conspicuous. It used to be Yuka, her mother, and her grandmother, but she left for college and her grandmother passed away. This will be the first cemetery visit and death anniversary ceremony for Yuka. Unfortunately, we soon start to suspect the grandmother probably served as a mediator between the two younger generations. However, there is still Hime-chan, the loyal and cinematic family dog.

Okaasan is a simple and subtle film, but its emotions are very real and deeply felt. We can see each woman carries her share of guilt and resentment for various reasons. It is not exactly a problem of miscommunication—they are really having trouble reconnecting. Yet, they still share so much history together as well as a foundation of love to build on.

This is a quietly beautiful film that shuns cheap sentimentality and completely earns its moving payoff through hard work. Both Kana and Kako Hatakeyama give sensitive but highly disciplined performances—and yes, they are quite believable as mother and daughter.

There is also something rather lovely about the way Hatakeyama depicts the restorative influence of traditional rituals and the gentle rhythms of life in the mother’s provincial town. Frankly, it looks like a good place to live. Yuka and her mother are also good people, they just have their issues, which makes them human. (Plus, Hime-chan is a charmer.) It is just refreshing to spend time with them in this environment. Very highly recommended, Okaasan (Mom) screens Saturday (6/2) and Sunday (6/10), as part of short film programs at this year’s Brooklyn Film Festival.

BFF ’18: Nemtsov Bridge (short)

One of the greatest weapons against tyranny is memory. The Soviet era illustrated this in no uncertain terms, when purged officials were literally excised from history books and newspaper records. Yet again, history repeats itself under Putin. The Commissar would very much like the general public to forget the assassination of his leading critic, Boris Nemtsov, but that will not happen under Grigory Saksonov’s watch. Ivan Makachev profiles the leader of a hardy band of volunteers who guard the memorials to Nemtsov that still adorn the site where he was gunned down in the short but significant documentary Nemtsov Bridge, which screens as part of this year’s Brooklyn Film Festival.

Saksonov was always committed to building real and meaningful democracy in Russia, but he took a hiatus from activism to protect his mother. She had been fired from her job to punish him for speaking out against the Putin regime. After her death, he recommitted himself to the cause of democratic reform, most notably by defending the makeshift memorials on the Bolshoy Moskvoretsky Bridge from Putin’s thugs.

While on duty, Saksonov often engages with pedestrians, including younger Russians who seem depressingly inclined to forget and/or deny the past. Judging from the film, Russia’s Millennials might be even more disappointing, and disinclined to protect free speech, than our own. Yet, Saksonov is always respectful.

Indeed, Makachev’s subject is a truly inspiring figure to meet. The last time we see him, he is getting roughed up (to put it mildly) by the cops during a March 26, 2017 demonstration. The man is committed and the truth is on his side, but it is unclear whether it will ultimately set the country free.

Makachev’s commitment is also impressive, considering he revisits Saksonov several times over the course of nearly two years. Very highly recommended as cinematic journalism and a profile in courage, Nemtsov Bridge screens as part of short film programs this Sunday (6/3) and next Friday (6/8) during the 2018 Brooklyn Film Festival.