OVID.tv: Akerman’s From the East

It was Chantal Akerman’s “End of Communism” Rock & Roll-All-You-Can-Drink-Late-Night-Road-Trip-Party. Actually, it is an experimental non-narrative 16mm docu-essay, but the precipitating event is the same. Inspired to document the Communist East while it still existed (or at least before the old way of life changed for average citizens), Akerman essentially filmed whatever caught her eye during her journey through East Germany, Poland, and Russia. There are no talking heads to provide context. Instead, Akerman takes us to the cold, damp streets behind the former Iron Curtain in From the East (D’Est), which premieres tomorrow on OVID.tv.

Although D’Est was originally conceived as a stand-alone film, Akerman later incorporated it into a special installation. Frankly, that might be the best forum for it. It is rather hypnotic to watch her restless camera scan the weary faces of the innumerable by-standers queueing around street corners and packed into train stations, staring out blankly at the audience. It would probably be even more so as part of an immersive destination exhibit. However, casual viewers should be forgiven if they lose patience with it at home.

Regardless, D’Est is very much a time capsule that transports us to a very specific place, at a very specific time. Of course, much has changed in Germany and Poland since Akerman shot her footage in 1992. Russia—maybe not so much. The babushkas are different (presumably), but the crumbling edifices are the same (if not worse).

Frankly, if you took a similar journey east today, you would suddenly find yourself in the West when you hit the Baltic Republics, where they uphold democratic values and observe their NATO commitments. Poland has made great strides, but recently they have taken a bit of a detour through populism—it happens to the best of countries. However, Russia is practically back to where it started, passively standing in line, waiting for change, but acquiescing to the status quo, out of fear things could get worse.

NYJFF ’16: I Don’t Belong Anywhere—the Cinema of Chantal Akerman

It is hard for cineastes to grasp how a filmmaker whose work has been given the prestigious Criterion treatment could reportedly commit suicide while still producing provocative work. Such appears to be the case with Chantal Akerman, the celebrated director of Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. Yet, Akerman’s former production manager turned documentarian Marianne Lambert captured revealing glimpses of the filmmaker that ring with significance after the fact. Although it predates Akerman’s premature finality, those sad circumstances inevitably inform Lambert’s I Don’t Belong Anywhere—the Cinema of Chantal Akerman, which screens during the 2016 New York Jewish Film Festival.

Akerman is best known as a trailblazing experimental feminist filmmaker, but her later films also explored the part-time Israeli resident’s Jewish Identity. However, her final film, No Home Movie intimately documented her failing mother’s last days. In Lambert’s relaxed interview sequences, it is clear Akerman was still emotionally reeling from the loss of her mother. Based on news accounts, we can surmise this depression took a fatal toll.

Ironically, Akerman is mostly a rather lively and charming presence in IDBA. Yet, the flashes of darkness are inescapable. Regardless, she gives Lambert considerable insights into her diverse filmography, including her mainstream rom-com A Couch in New York, co-starring Juliette Binoche and William Hurt. She also revisits her intense early work, like Je Tu Il Elle, which in retrospect now looks like an early forerunner of Blue is the Warmest Color. There is also something appealing about Akerman’s aversion to labels, which often manifested in a reluctance to allow its screening at thematically LGBT festivals.

There are notable exceptions, but IDBA is generally more accessible than the films it analyzes. As a filmmaker, Lambert is unflaggingly sensitive and respectful, but through no fault of her own, the cinematic portrait still feels uncomfortably revealing in light of subsequent events. Illuminating but deeply depressing, I Don’t Belong Anywhere—the Cinema of Chantal Akerman screens Wednesday evening (1/20) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of this year’s NYJFF.

First Look ’12: Almayer’s Folly

Festival season now starts a little earlier. An adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s first novel will be the opening night film of the inaugural edition of the first film fest of the year sure to make critics and scholars sit up and take note. Of course, it is hardly Chantal Akerman’s first film, but it is something of a departure for the Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1800 Bruxelles auteur. Fittingly, Akerman’s foray into tropical malaise, Almayer’s Folly, kicks off the first annual First Look series at the Museum of the Moving Image in Astoria.

There is something elusive about Conrad that doggedly resists the transfer to the big screen. Yet, his work has been a siren call to filmmakers, resulting in flawed masterworks like Apocalypse Now and Lord Jim. Such is the case with Akerman’s Folly, except less so.

As per Conrad, Kaspar Almayer is an unhappy man. He married the mixed race daughter of his adventurer mentor, Captain Lingard, in hopes of a prospective inheritance. Instead, Lingard has frittered away his fortune and sanity in search of a rumored treasure. Trapped in a loveless and impoverished marriage, Almayer’s only solace is his daughter Nina, but her resentment of westerners’ arrogant and abusive ways very definitely extends to her father.

Frankly, learning of a new Conrad film adaptation is sort of like hearing an out of shape friend has entered a marathon. You admire their ambition and hope they pull it off, but remain skeptical. If nothing else, Akerman completely nails the atmosphere of exotic alienation. Watching Folly will make viewers feel like a corpulent western expatriate sweating profusely in a cream-colored suit. However, a little of that humid torpor goes a long way.

Clearly, Folly was conceived as a mood piece, but the narrative slack is awfully conspicuous. At times, the cast seem more like props for Akerman to pose than actors interpreting characters. Still, Aurora Marion palpably radiates bitterness and contempt as Nina and Stanislas Merhar has some quietly forceful moments as Almayer.

Set in Malaysia but filmed in Cambodia, Folly is indeed something of a mixed bag. Yet, it is undeniably intriguing to watch a filmmaker of Akerman’s stature take on the enigmatic Conrad. While it can certainly drag in-the-moment, it is a fascinating film to look back on as a whole. Of note to serious cineastes, Folly is an impressively high profile launch for the first ever First Look. It screens once and only once (second looks are up to somebody else) this Friday (1/6), with Akerman in attendance at the Museum of the Moving Image’s historic Paramount Studio home.