HiFF ’16: The Remnant

There will be no singing in the rain in this musical. The children have inherited the world, but it is a drought-parched post-apocalyptic wasteland. To survive, children work as slaves in provincial Chinese sweatshops, so it is not very different from today’s reality. However, one young woman will raise her voice against oppression and she might start inspiring others in Karmia Chan Olutade’s strange movie musical The Remnant (sample tune here), which screens during this year’s Harlem International Film Festival.

Adults either perished in the doomsday or locked themselves away in bunkers, leaving a lost generation of youngsters to fend for themselves. Tired of the crushing struggle to survive, Rumi and her brother Ty voluntarily admit themselves into an orphanage, only to learn it is an exploitative factory that reprocesses precious waste water. They must subsist on two handfuls of water each day and endure the abuse of their sell-out overseers. Despite the bleak prospects outside, Rumi is not inclined to put up with such servitude. On the other hand, Tokyo is a true millennial, who will not countenance talk of freedom, preferring the questionable safety of the meager but regular water drops provided by the factory.

So with a set-up like that, who feels like dancing? The Remnant has to be the most unlikely big screen musical of this or most any other year. Frankly, the symbolically charged staging might work better in a conventional theater setting. In terms of tone and visual aesthetics, think of it as three parts Brecht and one part Norman Jewison’s adaptation of Jesus Christ Superstar.

Although Olutade is certainly not shy about making her points, they still have tremendous resonance. We are talking about big themes here, like the power of faith and sacrifice and the temptation to opt for degradation and servitude rather than freedom and dignity. There are also clear parallels between the children of the water-reprocessing factory and the well-publicized cases of child labor in China today (Foxconn and the like). Sadly, there is no shortage of contemporary slavery in our pre-apocalyptic world.

The real problem with The Remnant is the one-note nature of the score. Like so many rock opera-y musicals, every number sounds more or less the same. Look, there is a reason why the classic book musicals still endure. Masters like Cole Porter knew how to mix up a program with flag-wavers, comic numbers, romantic ballads, and show-stoppers.

It is a shame all the tunes blend together musically, because these kids are just loaded with talent. Even though the mushy score isn’t particularly helpful, Kayla Cao gives a knockout, heart-breaking performance as Rumi. She also develops genuinely touching sibling chemistry with Tenzin Low’s enormously charismatic Ty that should pretty much wear down even the most resistant viewers. The entire ensemble is quite remarkable, with Sylvia “Niumao” Niu, Julian Chien, Julie Lee, Rendolm Qian, Asuka Kosugi, and Annika Tanner excelling in their solo spots. Just imagine what they could do with more distinctive tunes.

Despite the sameness of its sound, there is something disconcertingly compelling about the film’s vibe. We definitely care about these kids and quickly buy into their deliberately exaggerated world. In any event, if you ever wanted to see Solarbabies set to music, this is probably the closest you’ll ever get. Recommended on balance for its young talent, The Remnant screens this Saturday (9/17) at MIST, as part of the 2016 Harlem International Film Festival.

HiFF ’16: Cold Nights Hot Salsa

Don’t tell the Quebecois language police, but you might be able to hear a little Spanish in Montreal salsa clubs. It turns out there is quite a burgeoning salsa scene in the French Canadian city. Victor Contreras and Katia Morales are two of Montreal’s most talented salsa dancers, who have a serious enough chance at the World Salsa Championship to attract a documentarian’s attention. Edwin Gailits follows the partners (on and off the dance floor) as they train and compete in Cold Nights Hot Salsa (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Harlem International Film Festival.

It is easy to see why Gailits thought Morales and Contreras were such an appealing couple. They represent both the new and old conceptions of salsa. Once considered a smoldering couple’s dance perfect for encouraging close contact, it has become style that showcases physical virtuosity. They became a couple through dance and they are good enough to compete on an international level.

It seems like salsa has more competing titles than the sport of boxing, so Contreras and Morales will have several chances to stake a championship claim. As they start to place higher, they try to pick up a few steps from salsa’s royalty: elite champions-turned judges Billy Fajardo & Katie Marlow and the Mambo King godfather of salsa, Eddie Torres.

There is some spectacularly cinematic dancing and a good deal of correspondingly hot music (including a Bobby Sanabria selection) in Cold Nights, but none of it is played live. However, Gailits was arguably a year or two too early. In subsequent tournaments, Morales and Contreras would go on a championship run, but they were still underdogs while Gailits crew was around. They would also miss a lot of off-stage financial drama involving championship impresario Albert Torres’ former organization.

Still, it is rather fascinating to see salsa start to establish itself as a global competitive pursuit. Montreal is still not Miami, but it seems to be well represented at each competition. It is a nice film, but a shorty by feature standards, barely stretching seconds over an hour in total running time. Still, fans of salsa and those who appreciate the music and culture that spawned it should enjoy this intimate account of potential champions finding their voice (in terms of choreography) when it screens this Friday (9/16) at MIST, as part of the 2016 Harlem International Film Festival.

HiFF ’16: I Go Back Home—Jimmy Scott

Few artists were treated as shabbily by the music business as “Little” Jimmy Scott. In this case, the music business means Herman Lubinsky of Savoy Records, who continually blocked Scott’s comeback attempts out of pure spite. Ralf Kemper is the anti-Lubinsky. He decided to produce an ambitious album with full orchestra and big name guest musicians, simply out of a love for Scott’s vocal artistry. Initially, his overtures seem to come too late for the ailing Scott, but he was really just in time. Yoon-ha Chang documents the difficult but rewarding recording sessions of the still-not-yet-released album in I Go Back Home—Jimmy Scott (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Harlem International Film Festival.

Scott passed away in 2014 and we will never hear his like again. Arguably, the only other vocalist who could interpret lyrics with such visceral feeling was Billie Holiday. The comparison seems particularly apt during Scott’s initial sessions with Kemper. His voice is so weak, yet still so full of feeling, it leads viewers to expect this project will be something akin to Lady Day’s raw, haunting Lady in Satin. However, he starts to gain strength and enthusiasm as Kemper brings in a stellar line-up to back him.

Sadly, we have also lost the late, great James Moody, but the tenor legend is as jovial as ever around Scott and he hadn’t any of his chops. Scott’s spirits clearly perked up when his longtime pal Joe Pesci sang a lovely duet of “The Nearness of You” with him. In addition,

Arturo Sandoval, Kenny Barron, Oscar Castro-Neves, Terry Gibbs, David Sanborn, Diane Schuur, Patti Austin, Renee Olstead, and Monica Mancini also contributed their considerable talents. Yet, bafflingly, Kemper could not interest a record label in the project.

According to the film’s website, the album Kemper produced will soon be released—and it is about time. Nevertheless, for the time being, this is the only way to hear Scott’s final recorded legacy. Seriously, how can any label not be interested? Heck, Scott’s last comeback doesn’t seem so long ago, but it was twenty-four years ago Sire signed Scott after he sang at Doc Pomus’s memorial (and basically tore everyone’s heart out) and performed “Sycamore Trees” on the final episode of Twins Peaks. (As someone who was there for a sold-out Scott set at the Iridium, I can attest there will always be a dedicated audience for the truly unique artist.)

Poor Kemper would spend far more than he bargained for recording Jimmy Scott, but it was worth it—at least for us. The good German is definitely the sort of figure jazz record collectors can identify with. Chang’s approach is pretty straight forward, but he captures some brutally honest moments. Frankly, nobody can accuse I Go Back Home of being an EPK for the album, since its release status has been so uncertain. In fact, it should definitely cement Scott’s reputation as one of the greatest interpreters of standards (check out his “The Way You Look Tonight,” for example). Highly recommended for anyone who cares about American music, I Go Back Home—Jimmy Scott screens this Saturday (9/17) at MIST, as part of the 2016 HiFF.

HiFF ’16: Hear the Silence

The geography gods never did a lot of favors for Ukraine. That was particularly true of a German speaking village near the eastern border—or rather the women and children who still live there. One way or another, the former Soviet occupiers took care of all the men. Like many such villages on the Eastern Front, they initially welcome the German military as liberators, but each remains wary of the other, for good reason, in Ed Ehrenberg’s Hear the Silence (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Harlem International Film Festival.

In all honesty, the battle-wearing survivors of Lt. Markus Wenzel’s unit are not much as either liberators or occupiers. Having been cut-off behind enemy lines, they just want figure out a way to rendezvous with the German command. The obviously traumatized village ought to give them time to rest and recuperate (although their wounded colleague is not looking so hot). The Lieutenant starts their quartering off on the wrong foot when he rustles up all the children as de facto hostages. Still, mutual attractions start to spark between the men and women. However, at least one villager is determined to resist the Germans, mostly out of fear for what the Soviets would otherwise do when they inexorably return.

Silence starts off somewhat stiff and awkward, but once it finds its sea legs, it becomes a viscerally powerful portrayal of war’s tragic inevitabilities. The bracing third act is almost operatic in its gut-wrenching irony. It will most likely be too much for some viewers, but not due to any excessive goriness.

Aside from Lars Doppler’s icily severe performance as Lt Wenzel and Simon Hangartner’s sinister and sniveling true believer Private Nössel, none of the men really stand out, but they all look convincingly haggard and emotionally numb. In fact, everything about the film looks legit, thanks in large measure to era-appropriate settings provided by the Museum of Folk Architecture in Sanok, Poland. Cinematographer Ludwig Franz’s color palate is so washed out, the film almost passes for black-and-white, but the added browns and pea greens give it an even more oppressive vibe.

Watching Ehrenberg’s grimly logical chain of events unfold is horrifying but deeply compelling. He really pulls off some bravura filmmaking down the stretch. As a result, the totality of his vision serves as a forceful critic of war and anti-humanist ideologies. Very highly recommended, Hear the Silence screens with Alison Klayman’s stylish and informative short animated documentary, The Night Witch (about Nadezhda Popova, one of the USSR’s deliberately forgotten women WWII military aviators) this Thursday (9/15) at MIST, as part of the 2016 Harlem International Film Festival.