56th BFI London Film Festival

You Are God

Lily Le

In 1998 Poland, rapper Magik forms three-piece rap group Paktfonica (apparently meaning “the pact next to the sound of the speakers”). The film is based on his story, from getting them together, troubles in getting noticed and signed, why you should not cheat on your wife and mother of your child even if you are a big-time rap artist, and finally the ending of his own life later which propelled Magik into legendary status in Poland.

For those far removed from any of this knowledge (which included myself), the film does a great job in taking the viewer through the whole thing and the storyline is never annoyingly ambiguous. What is slightly confusing at first though, is distinguishing each rapper from another as they are all young, white, male skinheads in sports joggers and sweaters - basically a British chav, but in an era when everyone was one.

The similarities to Britain don’t stop there and, although probably not an intention of the film, they make you realise just how globalised western culture has become. This also makes the film more accessible to a wider, non-Polish speaking audience.

Everyone in the room couldn’t help but laugh when Rahim tells Fokus to get off the phone so the group can dial up their chunky Windows 95 computer to the internet and the dial tone rings through the speakers.

This snippet of Polish culture is refreshing in comparison to Hollywood style films taking over many cinema genres today. Big time hip-hop artists who live with their parents in a concrete estate and struggle to make ends meet, contrast greatly with the filthy rich stars of our generation. What is also very interesting is that there is no bias towards any character. Although Magik is depicted as the most talented and passionate member of the group, his inevitable downfall from his own misbehaviour makes you hold back on sympathy for his situation.

There are no unrealistic extremes: no fairytale happy endings or tragic finales full of morality and how you should change your life. The troubled relationship between Magik and his girlfriend invokes empathy as it lacks the idiotic first-world type love problems usually seen in modern day movies. None of the characters are devastatingly beautiful or wear fancy clothes with unmaintainable fancy hair. Surprisingly, the film makes it terribly easy for a wannabe scientist spending daily life in Kensington to relate to a wannabe hip hop artist living in industrial Poland trying to get through life’s struggles and make it into the big time. Definitely worth a watch for hip hop or non-hip hop fans alike.

Rust and Bone

Katy Bettany

When Ali (Schoenaerts), an emotionally stunted migrant worker, meets Stéphanie (Cotillard), an Orca trainer, in a nightclub, neither could have imagined the events that would befall them. Ali, who moves with his young son Sam (Verdure) from Belgium to France to live with a sister he barely knows, struggles to find legitimate employment - eventually becoming an illegal fighter. Soon after their meeting, Stéphanie loses both legs to a whale in a horrific accident, sending her into a spiral of self-loathing and isolation. Surprisingly she reaches out to the struggling father, and the two form an unlikely connection. Ali’s indifference to Stéphanie’s condition helps her to accept her body, physically and sexually; with her providing a locus for his transient existence.

Consistently we ask ourselves who is stronger; Ali, the largely silent, casual-sex addicted fighter prone to outbursts of explosive rage; or Stéphanie, fighting to regain control of a life with new limitations. Our perspective is challenged - his life unravels and relationship with his son deteriorates, whilst Stéphanie rebuilds herself, figuratively and literally. In a scene where Cotillard is seen negotiating with the gypsies involved in illegal fighting (women unwelcome), standing tall on newly fitted prostheses, she becomes the queen of strength and bad girl.

A film with so much tragedy could easily become melodramatic, but it isn’t – its minimal script and abrupt switches between realism and expressionism keeps thefilm sobering and unflinching. Audiard experiments with light and texture, and uses sound layering – often loud and confusing enough to obscure the dialogue, to reflect the chaotic and fragile nature of Ali and Stéphanie’s relationship.

The film’s soundtrack is often unexpected, opening and closing with Bon Iver’s haunting double part ‘Wolves’. Also featured is Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’, an unusual choice for a powerful scene which features a newly disabled Cotillard re-enacting her Orca routine to the sky. It is a great testament to Audiard’s skill to take such an obvious song and use it to enhance a scene of great profundity.

Despite excellent performances from Cotillard, Schoenaerts and Verdure, the film could at times feel episodic and unconnected; with events punctuating a seemingly aimless screenplay rather than fitting together to form a cohesive piece. Nonetheless, the almost symbiotic relationship between Ali and Sam is deeply impressive; fraught with love and rage. When Sam is put in mortal danger, our reaction, like Ali’s, is visceral. Cotillard acts with her body as much as with her voice – each movement deliberate and instinctual. Coupled with some clever CGI work, her portrayal of an amputee is as believable as it is moving.

This is a film about approaches to the human body – it is about pain that is sought and pain that is inflicted. The theme of control is explored – with obvious parallels drawn between Ali and the whales, with Stéphanie’s need to control large mammals. Ever present is the power of nature, of the cycles of degradation and renewal, and physical strength. This is not a commercial love story, but it is one that will not fail to move even the coldest of viewers.

The Sapphires

Katy Bettany

If country music is about sitting around whining about loss, and soul music is about getting up and doing something about it, then ‘The Sapphires’ channels soul to its core. This is a film with a strong political message; touching upon the lost generation, black oppression and Australia’s murky past – but far from reveling in darkness, it is a joyful celebration of a group of Aborigine women who break the shackles of racism to sing soul music to US troops during the Vietnam war.

Based on the true story of writer Tony Briggs’ mother and aunt, and adaption of the successful stage show, it is 1968 and four Aborigine women meet a hapless Irish man, Dave Lovelace (O’Dowd), whilst performing in a whites-only Outback pub. Despite their love of Country and Western, he quickly identifies them as the best thing around, becomes their manager, converts them to soul, and embarks with them on a journey to Saigon to entertain the US marine corps.

The film explores an important part of Australian history. From the 1800s well into the 70s, pale skinned Aborigine children were taken from their families by Federal and State officials in the shameful attempt to integrate the children with white people, misguidedly believing that the black population would ‘die out’. These children would form the ‘Lost Generation’, part of Australia’s past I’m sure it would rather forget: however, the film does not whine or labour the point. Kay, a member of the Lost Generation, reconnects with her indigenous roots, making peace with the family she lost in her childhood. The film is about healing, forgiveness, and moving forward – something that modern day Australians living in a country that still struggles with racism, will connect with.

The sisters are as one dimensional as the signs Lovelace hangs around their necks to remind him – and them – of their roles. Julie (Mauboy), ‘lead singer’, Kay (Sebbens), ‘dance leader’, Cynthia (Tapsell) ‘the sexy one’, and Gail (Mailman), originally ‘???’ but quickly becomes mother hen. The four lack serious character development for this to bea truly exceptional film, but the vocals are fantastic, and O’Dowd, fresh from his success in Bridesmaids, is reliably funny, providing some laugh out loud moments, and is a convincing soul man.

The soundtrack is the true star of the film. Covers of Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye and Four Tops, and originals by Sam and Dave, make this film a celebration of authentic Motown soul. Mauboy’s voice is made for soul; rich, deep with incredible range; but at times the girls lack the emotional connection with the classic songs to really shine. The most moving songs are the ones sung in Yorta Yorta, an indigenous language: it is here you can hear the plight of the Aborigine people loudest. Making comparisons to the similar Dreamgirls will only lead to disappointment. Go with an open mind and the willingness to forgive the occasional weak moment - if you love soul music this is a feel-good film not to be missed.