Gypsy: A Roma Tragedy

Historically, the Roma have been ethnically targeted by police forces worldwide, far beyond the much derided “racial profiling” of current controversies.  As a result, it was already hard being Roma in an area like eastern Slovakia, but the death of Adam’s father makes things much worse for the young man.  His mother’s hasty marriage to his thuggish uncle does not help either in Martin Šulík’s Shakespearean social issue drama Gypsy (trailer here), which opens this Wednesday in New York at Film Forum.

Despite the echoes of Hamlet, Adam’s father was hardly the King of the Roma and he is certainly no prince.  He is still visited by his father’s ghost, but the dear departed is more concerned with his son’s well being than seeking vengeance for his early demise.  Still, there is something naggingly suspicious about the accident that claimed the old reformed ruffian’s life.

Seething with resentment for “whitey,” Uncle Žigo is not a stabilizing influence.  Much to Adam’s alarm, he involuntarily recruits the young man and his more passive brother for a number of dubious criminal schemes.  The local Catholic priest tries to keep Adam on the straight and narrow, but he is no match for the brutish Žigo.  Meanwhile, Adam pursues his Ophelia, the younger but less tragic Jula, but again, his Uncle’s ruthless gangsterism is a hindrance.

Wisely, Gypsy does not try to correspond to Hamlet on a one-to-one basis.  In addition to many obvious plot diversions, the dynamics of Adam’s interpersonal relations differ in subtle but important ways.  Most importantly, unlike Claudius, Žigo’s villainous nature is unambiguously established.  Whether or not he killed Adam’s father, he is undeniably a bad guy.

Šulík and co-writer Marek Leščák are also clearly out to make a statement about the living standards endured by the nearly universally despised Roma of Eastern Europe.  Frankly, the conditions of Adam’s settlement are almost pristine compared to what some muckraking docs have recorded.  Regardless, the violent prejudice of the Slovakian coppers is hard to miss.

Looking like a decidedly young fourteen, Janko Mižigár gives a remarkably assured, quietly forceful performance as the barely teenaged protagonist.  He also has some nice youthful infatuation chemistry with Martinka Kotlárová’s Jula.  Yet, his strongest, most resonate scenes are played with Ivan Mirga, appearing as his spectral father.

Šulík has a sharp eye for detail, conveying a full picture of the Roma’s outcast existence.  While his chief antagonist is not exactly an overpoweringly malevolent presence, young Mižigár’s forceful work is quite noteworthy throughout.  Grim, gritty, and periodically brutal, Gypsy is not a pretty picture, notwithstanding some handsomely framed shots from cinematographer Martin Šec.  However, it holds a mirror up to nature quite effectively, while telling a relentlessly naturalistic coming of age story.  Recommended for those who enjoy tragic drama spiked with consciousness-raising realism, Gypsy opens this Wednesday (6/27) at New York’s Film Forum.

Gatlif’s Korkoro

They have been romanticized by some and vilified by far more. Once an enslaved people, their traditional lifestyle and culture reflects a unique commitment to freedom. They are the Romani people, or so-called “Gypsies,” the forgotten victims of the Holocaust. Tony Gatlif, perhaps the most celebrated Romani filmmaker, dramatizes a chapter of his people’s tragic history in the historically-inspired Korkoro (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

In 1943, French authorities were only too willing to pass restrictive laws targeting the Romani. Duly reporting to a provincial city hall with passbooks in hand, one Romani family finds the rules have been changed on them once again. According to the sympathetic Mayor Rosier, new laws have been established outlawing their nomadic ways. At first, they try their best to ignore his warnings, but it soon becomes clear their legal position is even more precarious than usual.

Using his position with the fascist militia, a former business associate confiscates their best horses. With their mobility impaired, the Romani family is eventually interned in a deportation camp. By signing over the deed to his family cottage, the good mayor is able to save them, at least temporarily. However, tragedy is clearly inevitable, for all parties of good conscience.

Indeed, Korkoro is as much a tribute to the “Justes,” the non-Roma gadjo who saved Romani during the Holocaust, as it is a portrayal of Romani suffering. In fact, Gatlif shrewdly avoids a reductive depiction of victimization through his central Romani protagonist, Félix Taloche, a decidedly unsentimental figure. Wild almost to the point of being feral, Taloche has a pure recklessness that might be self-defeating, but personifies the film’s title: “Korkoro,” the Romani word for freedom.

Played by James Thierrée, the grandson of Charlie Chaplin, Taloche is a force of nature with innate musical talent. The sight of him tearing through the French countryside will rightly become the enduring image of the film. Yet, Thierrée expresses something hauntingly human in Taloche.

Effectively counterbalancing Thierrée are the primary Justes, Mayor Rosier and his halting romantic interest, Mademoiselle Lundi, the town’s school teacher and resistance volunteer. As Rosier, Marc Lavoine looks the personification of integrity, while Marie-Josée projects genuine strength and vulnerability beneath Lundi’s icy schoolmarm veneer.

Perhaps what is most striking about Korkoro is the sense of musicality Gatlif brings to the story, separate and apart from the scenes of the Romani family in performance. He captures the rhythms of wagon wheels and horses’ hoofs in a way that powerfully evokes the Romani family’s way of life. Despite the ugliness of the period, cinematographer Julien Hirsch gives it a beautifully wind-swept look. Indeed, this is bravura filmmaking, boasting a truly bold lead performance from Thierrée. Highly recommended, Korkoro opens this Friday (3/25) in New York at the Cinema Village.

Roma History and Family: Searching for the 4th Nail

According to legend, the fourth nail of the crucifixion was stolen by a Roma blacksmith. In gratitude, God granted his descendents the right to steal. For American Romani filmmaker George Eli, this creation myth is a double-edged sword, simultaneously giving the Roma and Sinti a sense of mystical identity, but also facilitating low expectations of rootless lives lived in the margins of society. Eli turns his camera both outward and inward, asking not just what it means specifically to be an American “Gypsy,” but Roma in general, in his debut documentary Searching for the 4th Nail (trailer here), which starts a special two day engagement in New York, following its debut at the New York Gypsy Roma Film Festival.

Not everyone in Eli’s family was thrilled with the project, but his sons Alex and Christopher got on-board and perhaps even stole the show. His wife however, is notably absent. Still, it is his sons’ questions which initiates Eli’s search for answers about their place in history and society. Most notably, father and sons take a trip to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum to see first-hand how the Roma Holocaust experience is treated there. It turns out they had half a shelf in the bookstore.

While Eli does not deny the existence of anti-Roma prejudice, he is also critical of some Roma preconceptions, particular the notion that education is only for the Gadjie (non-Roma). Indeed, Eli handles his cultural inquiry with a great deal of nuance. While there have been many documentaries that use the family teaching experience to address wider issues, the American Roma and Sinti family experience has been virtually undocumented on film. As a result, Nail seems fresher than its conventional sounding documentarian approach would suggest.

The Elis, father and sons, are consistently likeable on-screen personalities. As a filmmaker, Eli keeps the Nail moving a healthy pace and deftly addresses some serious issues without getting overwhelmed by their weightiness. With a running time just under an hour, it makes its points without overstaying its welcome. For many viewers, it will be a quick and informative introduction to the fascinating culture and tragic history of the Roma and Sinti. It screens tomorrow (2/9) and Wednesday (2/10), with Eli taking Q&A both evenings.