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  • Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    Gagarine, a fresh and poignant feature debut by Fanny Liatard and Jérémy Trouilh (co-written with Benjamin Charbit), is about the beauty and strength of community, embodied here by the residents of the Cité Gagarine housing project on the outskirts of Paris.

    Filmed just prior to the demolition of Gagarine in 2019 and with the participation of its residents, the movie follows one young tenant, Youri (Alséni Bathily, making his screen debut) – named for the complex’s namesake, Russian astronaut Yuri Gagarin – as he fights to preserve his home and community. The filmmakers combine stark realism with dreamy fantasy to portray the world of Gagarine and the imagination of Youri, a serious, science-minded teen who dreams of being an astronaut. His apartment is full of hi-tech devices fashioned from scavenged materials, including a tricked-out telescope through which he scans the heavens.

    Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    Along with his intrepid, enterprising friends Houssam (Jamil McCraven) and fellow gearhead Diana (the luminous Lyna Khoudri), Youri rummages for electrical parts to fix the building’s wiring prior to an inspection. He hopes to forestall Gagarine’s imminent destruction and the relocation of residents, who come from various ethnic and cultural backgrounds. A valued member of the community, Youri creates a special canopy through which his neighbors come together to watch a solar eclipse; it’s a particularly lovely scene underscored by eerie music. Some residents, however (including Houssam’s father), are happy to abandon Gagarine and work to hasten its demise.

    Moody, dark and graceful, with an eclectic soundtrack, Gagarine features vignettes of daily life along with actual footage of the site. Included are real scenes of Gagarine’s groundbreaking (attended by Gagarin himself) and its much-celebrated opening in 1963, which was was met with much hope and optimism for a new way of life.

    Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    Despite Youri’s efforts, the complex is scheduled for demolition and residents begin moving out, including Fari (Farida Rahouadj), a Turkish woman who knew his parents when they first moved in and serves as a sort of surrogate mom (Youri’s own mother has virtually abandoned  him). Diana, with whom Youri has enjoyed a budding romance, eventually moves on with her Roma family, as well. Soon he’s the only one left in the massive building, aside from a hyper young drug dealer who pops in occasionally until he’s accosted by the site’s demolition workers.

    Youri, who knows the building inside and out, manages to elude workers and authorities. He gains access to abandoned apartments, and rigs a kind of earthbound space station full of elaborate contraptions built from salvaged circuitry and other parts. His environment and the movie itself become progressively more surreal.

    Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    Eventually and sadly, the inevitable finally occurs and Youri himself transitions to a different place. The film’s conclusion, which involves a kind of reunion among former residents, is moving and remarkably beautiful.

    Off-kilter, raw and imaginative, Gagarine is a truly unique portrayal of how a community can bring and hold people together, even — or maybe especially — in less-than-ideal circumstances. It’s a lyrical and powerful meditation on our shared humanity.

    Gagarine opens on Friday, April 1, at the Quad Cinema in New York.

    Marina Zogbi

  • Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    An inspiring and visually delightful film, Beth Elise Hawk’s Breaking Bread features the founder of Israel’s annual A-Sham food Festival, as well as several participants, along with myriad mouth-watering depictions of Mediterranean cuisine. Founded in Haifa in 2015 by Dr. Nof Atamna-Ismaeel, the first Israeli Arab to win Israel’s MasterChef, the festival brings together Arab and Jewish chefs to collaborate on new iterations of Arabic dishes. Foremost a food documentary with some light social commentary, Breaking Bread begins with a quote from Anthony Bourdain: “Food may not be the answer to world peace, but it’s a start.” By the end of this feel-good film, even the most cynical among us may feel optimistic about that claim.

    Presiding over the festival is the ever upbeat Atamna-Ismaeel, who declares that being an Israeli Arab is difficult—not completely accepted by either side—but “Stuck in the middle is the best thing because you get to enjoy both worlds.” Her belief that there’s no room for politics in the kitchen is echoed by others throughout the film. The sentiment rings true here, as it does with other creative collaborations, be it music, dance or art.

    Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    Hawk introduces us to several chefs who have participated in A-Sham, including the loquacious Shlomi, who took over the Polish-inspired restaurant his grandfather founded; and his festival cooking partner, Ali, manager of a restaurant in his picturesque village on the Israel/Lebanon border. Of Syrian descent, Ali too is upbeat, happy with his life in Israel, as is youthful Osama, from the seaside village of Akko, who talks about the traditional mix of cultures in his town: “I’ve never felt like an outsider.” It’s tempting at first to write off this contentment as an anomaly, given headlines about the region that dominate western media, but in many areas of Israel, life and culture are clearly a lot more complicated and nuanced than what we’re used to hearing about troubled areas like Gaza/West Bank. Breaking Bread often contradicts simplistic ideas that many westerners may have about Arabs living in Israel, many of whom are not Palestinian.

    Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    Osama’s partner, Ilan, is another interesting character, a long-haired half-Catholic idealist who is disdainful about politics. The final pair we get to know, Tomer and Saleh, are also male, which leads us to wonder if Atamna-Ismaeel, the daughter of a doctor and herself a microbiologist, is something of an aberration. Along with several of the other Arabic chefs, she expresses happiness about sharing their food with Israeli society, a form of representation and legitimization. She believes that people have been brainwashed by negative media headlines about tensions between Arabs and Jews, and that A-sham never has never gotten the media coverage it deserved because it was a positive story.

    The festival is very much a product of Haifa, a multicultural city whose mayor boasts about celebrating Ramadan, Christmas and Hanukkah. Some sensitivities are touched upon, including the fact that much Israeli food is based on traditional Arabic dishes, which, according to Atamna-Ismaeel, can be a tricky issue. “It’s funny, sad, and complicated,” she admits of the casual appropriation.

    Courtesy of Cohen Media Group

    The festival itself is finally shown, albeit quickly, but the film is really about the meeting of chefs from different sides of the “fence” and the melding of Arab/Muslim and Israeli/Jewish cuisines and traditions. The chefs depicted here seem to enjoy each others’ company, bonding over their love for cooking and its importance in their lives.

    Breaking Bread is not a film that delves deeply into politics or conflicts of the area, but focuses on the joys of sharing food and the colorful, inventive cuisine of the area formerly known as the Levant. As Tomer notes, “If you cook for somebody and he eats your food, that’s where politics ends.” It’s hard to argue with that. And it’s nearly impossible to leave this film without intense cravings for the beautiful food shown so lovingly prepared and appreciated.

    Breaking Bread opens on Friday, February 4, in New York (Quad Cinema & JCC Manhattan).

    Marina Zogbi

  • Dance Dancers Performance Art

    Virtual Education and the Arts

    Higher education has significantly trailed behind other industries in moving forward into digitally focused learning. One factor contributing to this could be that pre-pandemic, colleges were assigning less than 5% of their budgets to IT spending. We have been somewhat pushed to reimagine learning methods in response to the temporary closure of schools over potions of the past two years, however, with distance learning being the only option available in many cases. And now there is increasingly widespread belief that remote learning could endure; just this past April, The New York Times discussed how the remote programs developed to manage the crisis are now poised to remain.

    While remote programs have been successful in certain respects though, how does the idea of ongoing virtual learning stand to affect the arts?

    Performing arts programs in particular rely heavily upon physical presence and contact, which has prompted many schools and students to find innovative ways to avoid disruption. While transition in other areas is easy enough, with teachers conducting lectures over Zoom and similar programs, the practical learning aspects of performing arts present more challenges. But because it does seem probable that some digital and remote learning practices will remain in place, we’ve examined the advantages and disadvantages of online learning within the film and performing arts sector.

    Pros

    One appealing aspect of online education is the flexibility it offers to students. In enables them to have full control and accountability for their learning. With the requirement to attend scheduled classes eliminated, students can –– to a greater extent at least –– allocate time for studies around their own commitments and periods that are most convenient to them. This can result in improved retention of information and ultimately better results.

    Online learning also presents the opportunity to innovate on the fly. With regard to performing arts specifically, being unable to physically perform in theaters or studios has forced students and teachers to improvise and create different ways to manage. On this subject, Forbes interviewed performing arts pupils and professors to find out how they’ve tackled issues surrounding the imposed restrictions. The piece sought to highlight how when circumstances prompt change, new and innovative ideas emerge –– and while it was still clear that circumstances for the involved students were far from ideal, there is something to be said for new tactics yielding real progress. Finding ways to practice dance in limited space, for instance, may only make a performer more comfortable when he or she has a stage again.

    There is also some potential (though largely untapped as yet) that more digital education might make for more dynamic and data-supported methods could be designed. Writing specifically about various efforts that are underway to improve general classroom education, New Globe notes that a tech-driven approach can yield data that helps instructors to develop and adapt. The idea is that when we bring technology into education it becomes easier to identify and act on trends, whether they have to do with academic performance, student feedback, or anything similar. While this concept is again being discussed with regard to general education, it can be applied in any classroom environment to some extent. But with virtual learning already occurring in an online environment, one can imagine that there are more opportunities for feedback, assessment, review etc. In the best of cases, all of this can lead to more dynamic and effective instruction –– including in the arts.

    Cons

    First and foremost, there’s the group dynamic to consider. Remote learning removes the opportunity to perform with partners and teams, which is a core part of the performing arts. While there are ways to improvise, there is no true substitute for the communal aspect of it all. With the inability to attend theater groups and music ensembles in person, students lose out on valuable learning experiences.

    Similarly, the inability to simulate the act of performing for others face-to-face curtails the value of arts instruction. The experience of a live audience and the feelings and emotions associated with performance simply cannot be emulated successfully in virtual education (even if virtual reality is employed, as may occur more in the coming years). In disciplines in which interaction and contact are so heavily relied upon, this is a significant disadvantage.

    There is also the raw fact of students lacking space to consider. While we noted above that this has led to some innovation that may yield benefits in certain cases, the lack of stages, studios, and classrooms to practice in is ultimately more likely to stunt routines and progress. Most students studying remotely will be working from limited bedroom and/or dorm space, and other available areas may come with risk of interruption, or may just not be conducive to the work at hand. This will absolutely have a detrimental effect on their studies, and moreover on their wellbeing as performing arts students.

    We hope this has been an informative piece as we look ahead to a future of hybrid education models, potentially even in the arts. And please visit Art For Progress again soon for the latest news and updates from the scene!




  • French filmmaker Bruno Dumont has never played by any movie-making rules, which has resulted in a fascinating career of provocative and unsettling work, most of which can be classed as art films. A former philosophy professor, Dumont has clearly relished exploring themes of good and evil, incorporating gritty realism, extreme violence and sexuality (La Vie de Jesus, Twentynine Palms), as well as unexpected humor (the charmingly offbeat P’tit Quinquin).

    Dumont’s latest, France, starring Léa Seydoux as the title character, is slicker looking than previous efforts, which makes it more confounding in some ways. A satirical exploration of celebrity and television journalism, France is uneven in tone, veering from wildly unsubtle to inscrutable, its deliberate pace elongating scenes that sometimes seem like they should be more revelatory.

    It’s also quite watchable, thanks mainly to Seydoux, who plays France de Meurs, a famous Parisian TV journalist who hosts a talk show. Early in the film, she is recognized and besieged for autographs on the street, which she seems to enjoy. Dumont digitally inserts France into footage of an actual press conference with President Emmanuel Macron, where she asks a tough question and mocks the event via a series of silent but expressive exchanges with her assistant Lou (comedian Blanche Gardin). Lou, a near slapstick character, fawns over her boss and treats TV journalism like a fame game.

    In one drawn-out scene, France takes charge during the shoot of a segment about jihadists in Africa, posing soldiers like game pieces and reshooting what appear to be candid conversations, laughing with her photographer. Yet, she also seems genuinely concerned about the plight of the region and people. This dichotomy of real vs. fake (scenes, emotions) is echoed throughout the film.

    When France accidentally drives into and injures a bike messenger, she begins spiraling into some kind of existential crisis about both her celebrity and her need for it. She begins visiting him in the hospital and at his home, offering money to his immigrant parents, who are thrilled by her attention. All of this is covered in the tabloids.

    Meanwhile, things aren’t going so well at her house (a claustrophobic museum-like apartment), with a frustrated writer husband (Benjamin Biolay) and alienated young son; though it’s never exactly clear what the marital problems are, aside from France receiving a much heftier paycheck.

    France starts breaking down on set and decides to leave the TV world, checking into a luxurious spa in the Alps, where she embarks on what seems like a Hallmark romance with a fellow patient. After a major betrayal on his part, she is back on TV with a big news story about African migrants into which she embeds herself by boarding their raft (and again completely directing the action). While prepping the clip for her show, her flippant conversations with Lou are accidentally aired. Though this would seem catastrophic, it’s not really, according to Lou, who assures France that “People will hate you, then they’ll love you even more than before; that’s how TV works.”

    There’s so much going on in the film, including France’s changing mental state, as we watch various emotions—mostly sorrow—play on her face, that it becomes exhausting rather than moving, which may be the point. (Seydoux spends much of the film crying and puffy-eyed, yet still looking beautiful; this is part of the satire, we assume.) A horrible tragedy occurs late in the film, after which France interviews the wife of a child murderer. Again, she is both professionally detached and overcome with emotion.

    France is a strange drama; what’s being mocked is clear, yet it’s too tonally uneven to be completely satisfying (it might be easier going for those living in France; some nuances and references are undoubtedly lost on the rest of us). There is mournful music by late French composer Christophe throughout, which adds a melancholy vibe to the film.

    A star vehicle for Seydoux, France certainly offers a lot for her fans to savor. With scenes both unexpected and overly predictable, it is not a film that one can ease into comfortably, but it offers an interesting perspective into celebrity journalism and the contradictions surrounding it.

    France opens this Friday, December 10, at Film at Lincoln Center in New York.

    Marina Zogbi

  • Inspired by true events, Tracey Deer’s Beans is a powerful and impassioned coming-of-age story set  amid a recent violent chapter of Canadian history.

    The 1990 Oka Crisis was a land dispute between the Mohawk community and the mostly white government of Oka, Quebec, over plans for a sacred burial ground to be turned into a golf course.  An intense 78-day confrontation ensued, some of which is included in the film via archival footage. Deer, a Mohawk who was inspired by her own memories of the time, instills her film with scenes and emotions that are both tender and tough, which makes for a particularly engaging experience.

    At the start of the film, smart, sensitive 12-year-old Tekahentakwa, nicknamed Beans (beautifully portrayed by Kiawentiio) and her mom Lily (Rainbow Dickerson, also excellent) travel from their home on the Kahnawá:ke Mohawk Reserve to apply to a fancy school in town. (In an uncomfortable moment, the white administrator tries repeatedly and unsuccessfully to pronounce “Tekahentakwa.”) Beans’ father is against the whole idea, but Lily is adamant that their daughter pursue an excellent education. The family is rounded out by young Ruby (Violah Beauvais), Beans’ frequent companion and a classic little sister sidekick.

    Dad becomes involved in the protests against the golf course supporters, which soon becomes a standoff: In retaliation for the Mohawks’ blockade of a bridge that connects the community with Montreal, local authorities cut off the reserve from supplies, including food.

    When Lily takes girls into town by boat to buy food, an ugly scene plays out in the supermarket. There are several scenes of hateful white bigotry, which have a crushing effect on Beans and escalate the film’s tension. The animosity against the Mohawks is palpable, underscored by interview clips from actual news reports of the time. In return, some of the Mohawk men curse and threaten anyone attempting to cross the bridge. Real footage of the confrontation is interspersed throughout, with testimony from people on both sides (sometimes in French). Apparently, we in the States don’t have a monopoly on North American bigotry.

    At first, Beans tries to keep the situation at bay psychologically, pretending with Ruby that they’re eating ice cream and other treats instead of oatmeal. Eventually she seeks out a tough older local, April (Paulina Alexis), under whose tutelage she shops for trendy clothes and learns to fight. She practices cursing in the mirror, before doing it in real life. Her boldness is admired by April’s brother Hank and soon there is young (too young, in Beans’ case) romance afoot.

    Meanwhile, we can’t help but worry about her transformation into an angry, unthinking girl; we know that this can have terrible consequences for the rest of a young person’s life, especially someone in her position.

    Also worrisome is the escalating conflict, despite efforts on the part of the tribe’s women try to diffuse tense confrontations. Some of the reserve’s women and children go “on vacation” to a motel to get out of the hot spot. April and Hank are there too, however, and in a bid to impress, Beans starts a fight and completely loses control. Poor pregnant Lily (the true badass of the movie) takes the kids home. Again, suspense builds as they meet obstacles on the way.

    After confronted with an unreasonable demand by Hank (to put it mildly), Beans is left feeling completely alone.

    Though situations both large and personal eventually get resolved, it was sure tough getting there. And despite a few scenes that are reminiscent of typical adolescent angst (mainly involving interactions with tough kids), this is not a typical film about a young girl’s rebellious coming of age. The film’s pointed POV, raw emotion and rough situations make it memorable and powerful, as do the performances of Kiawentiio  and Dickerson. It’s impossible to watch Beans without feeling a wealth of emotions, which is pretty great in itself.

    Beans opens in select theaters and On Demand this Friday, November 5.

    Marina Zogbi