Tribeca 2019: "Slay The Dragon" Review

A secretive gerrymandering initiative launched 10 years ago threatens to undermine democracy as we know it, “Slay the Dragon” depicts the everyday people fighting this practice to make their votes matter.

Per the documentary, a well-funded partisan initiative poured money into state legislative races in key swing states to gain control of their redistricting processes and used high-tech analytics to dramatically skew voting maps based on demographic data after the 2008 election. The result is one of the greatest electoral manipulations in U.S. history, one that poses a fundamental threat to our democracy and exacerbates the already polarized atmosphere in Congress and state houses across the country.

Gerrymandering is the practice of redrawing electoral maps to serve the party in power. It is not a new philosophy, however. In fact, it has been around for centuries. But in today’s hyper-partisan political arena, it has been taken to unprecedented extremes, fueled by the elimination of corporate campaign contribution limits and the availability of vast amounts of personal information.

This documentary, directed by Barak Goodman and Chris Durance, is enlightening even for the well informed citizen. It is beautifully infuriating and begs for a call to action. It is polished like the politicians it presents and perfectly articulates the waning faith in democracy across the country. It is bias to a fault, but listening to Chris Janikowski—with all the wiles and smiles—boast his “redmapping” project of 2010 is stomach-turning. That is, I’m all for this bias narrative.

That being said, we also experience hope in the form of Katie Fahey, a Michigander who forms the group Voters Not Politicians working to bring a measure onto the state’s ballot to require an independent group—not the legislature—to draw these aforementioned lines. And in Wisconsin, an activist group challenges the state’s redistricting in a case that makes its way to the US Supreme Court. Voters Not Politicians breathes life on the fire that is hope, and offers a glimmer of positivity in a documentary that is otherwise quite depressing.

Unless, of course, you are a conservative reader. As a year in politics, 2010 was the dam break that opened the levy to a tsunami of republican reform, bringing in a wave of conservative laws and bills in its aftermath. The writing on the wall, however, is that America is getting more diverse, more educated, and the republicans feel their time is dwindling.

Any practice that allows for elected officials to dismiss accountability is an unsafe one. More importantly, you can draw a direct line—no pun intended—from oppressive voter ID laws to election results. If it weren’t for a compelling narrative structure, I would’ve stormed out of the theater. It truly was a well done documentary, but above anything else, “Slay the Dragon” reminds us what is wrong with our democracy. It is split at the seams and we have to find a way to heal the wounds.

Grade: B

Tribeca 2019: "17 Blocks" Review

In 1999, nine year old Emmanuel was gifted a video camera. What he captured of his family over the following years would be the most poignant home movie ever cut together. “17 Blocks,” a film by journalist, bestselling author, Emmy® Award-winning filmmaker, creator of Found Magazine and contributor to public radio's This American Life, Davy Rothbart, is a profound narrative piece that takes the ‘Boyhood’ approach to storytelling and blows it out of the water.

“17 Blocks” chronicles—over two decades—a family, which like many, deal with their share of hardships. Cheryl, the matriarch of this ever-growing family, is raising her three kids alone. She is funny and charismatic, always harboring dreams of becoming the next Marilyn Monroe. Her dreams, however, are thwarted by responsibility and a cancerous drug addiction. These tendencies surely rubbed off on her kids who lacked a proper father figure. All but Emmanuel. Emmanuel had a lust for life, a drive and compassion for those he cared for. The only one in his family to graduate high school, Emmanuel had big plans of his own. Until it was all over in a second. The opening shot of this documentary shows a rainbow touching down over Southeast Washington, D.C. However, this story is not all rainbows and butterflies.

The year Emmanuel was shot by two, masked robbers, there were over one-hundred homicides in D.C. alone. The Sanford family and Rothbart have offered us this incredibly intimate insight into their world plagued by gun violence, poverty and addiction. The home-video aspect of much of this ninety minute non-fiction piece, feels invasive. We see what Emmanuel sees. Chilling and all the more impactful. We learned from Sean Baker’s “The Florida Project” that children offer a unique perspective to narratives replete with sadness and maturity because there is a youthful spirit that contests the tragedy head on with ignorant beauty. Emmanuel’s home video offers the cruelest of memories while he smiles through it all. His infectious spirit lives on in his young nieces and nephews who miss him dearly.

There are bright moments amidst all the sorrow, but the film begs the question: Why do bad things happen to good people? A truly introspective twist of emotions, both equally saddening as infuriating. But Cheryl offers a sage response to all the pain in her life in saying, “Hope is real, hope is alive, it’s what keeps us going, hope for better, hope for tomorrow.” Although she also recognizes that “some pain doesn’t go away.”

There is a moment when Emmanuel’s sister Denise is scrubbing his blood off the walls of their tiny apartment with a t-shirt rag as Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable” plays in the background and her children look on asking, “Where is uncle Emmanuel? Where is uncle Emmanuel?” To which all I can muster is a thank you to the Sanford family for being brave enough to share their story with the world. This film rips at the heart with focused blows. It is relentless. It is a cinematic triumph, but more importantly, it hopefully evokes change out of the people who have the ability to make an impact in these communities.

As a wise woman once said, “Hope is real, hope is alive, it’s what keeps us going, hope for better, hope for tomorrow.” I like the sound of that.

Grade: A

Tribeca 2019: "Blow The Man Down" Review- Crime Thriller With Coen Brothers Feel

If the death of their mother wasn’t difficult enough on the Connolly Sisters (Sophie Lowe and Morgan Saylor), now they have to maintain the family business, pay for a large home they cannot afford and deal with the strange behavior of their late mother’s friends. Then one of them kills somebody. If they want to, Bridget Savage Cole and Danielle Krudy are going to be making films for a long time. Both graduates of Wesleyan University, Cole and Krudy teamed up for their first feature with “Blow the Man Down”—a bold first film that, although presents some familiar story beats, offers a gripping narrative that exudes originality.

“Blow the Man Down” begins in song, a fisherman’s hymn you may hear at a bar. The song resurfaces in the film at different occasions as if the images on screen are merely the poetry between the lines of the song. I’d like to think the captain of the fishing boat, boasting his aria, is sitting us down to tell us a tale from long ago over a few pints. This approach to the narrative evokes a classic Coen brothers feel, like a “Fargo” set in Maine. It is the darkest of comedies but the humor works and this writing tandem knows exactly when to implement it.

The film is a mystery, a thriller, full of the classic tropes: the bag of cash, the hidden murder weapon. And to stress further, the discoveries of the above by our protagonists feels convenient at times, as if to only serve in pushing the plot forward. I must admit, however, this is a stretch for a criticism. The development of character and story is handled with aplomb. It is clear these two storytellers focus heavily on their characters.

This film boasts a powerfully female-led cast which features Annette O’Toole, June Squibb and is helmed by Margo Martindale who is a force to be reckoned with. Martindale plays Enid Nora Devlin, a businesswoman who presides over an eerie bed-and-breakfast called the Ocean View. Except, the place is a brothel. Enid has been running this joint for years, and although she now flies solo, once had the help of her friends. As the criminal operation soon unfolds, it threatens to unveil the disturbing underbelly of this seaside town.

The photography of the film is beautiful. The geography of the area certainly lends itself well to a majestic looking picture, laden with intense blue hues. While pleasant to look at, the thrilling nature of the story acts like a car crash—impossible to look away from. What Krudy and Cole steer clear of, however, is the ominous-music-thing-lurking-in-the-corner-bit. Of course, this twist is refreshing in that we have but the performances to lean on for the thrill.

After premiering at Tribeca this April, “Blow the Man Down” is still looking for U.S. distribution, but I have no doubt Krudy and Cole will find their audience. This is a true ensemble piece. A film that introduces two cinematic voices that, as Loren Hammonds puts, “won’t soon be forgotten.”

Grade: B+

Tribeca 2019: "Other Music" Review- A Cacophony of Memories

“Other Music” is one of this year’s feature documentaries at Tribeca, a film about a record store that opened in the East Village in 1995. If I took away anything from this documentary, however, it is that Other Music was not just a record store. 

This documentary was directed by married couple Puloma Basu and Rob Hatch-Miller, an LA-based team that has specialized in music video production and recently collaborated on the soul music documentary feature Syl Johnson: Any Way The Wind Blows. The film chronicles the store’s 20-year history and features artists and bands such as Regina Spektor, Vampire Weekend, Animal Collective, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Strokes, Interpol and TV On The Radio. The record store, which closed in 2016, was a solace for the independent musician. It was a destination for artists, industry representatives, music lovers and wanderers alike. It was a place where bands were formed and friendships blossomed. Other Music created an environment that supported musicians and allowed bands to grow, which ultimately served as a great influence on the music scene in New York City. 

As retail stores lose business to online shopping, Other Music reminds us how human interaction can help nurture a community. When you enter the store there are shelves replete with vinyl, many of which records are labeled with a hand written note card. A professional vote of confidence for the work. There is also something gratifying about owning something tangible you spend money on. The spirit of this record store certainly lives on in a world dominated by online streaming services. The film does a great job focusing on employees of the store as well as customers who frequented the shop, and these customers cried when the store closed.  I may have even broken down watching this film and I never had the chance to go there before it closed, but I digress. 

From a storytelling perspective, Basu and Hatch-Miller succeed in chronicling a beginning, middle and end. They take you on a journey that offers great company and even better music. They extinguished my only criticism of the piece with a cacophony of noise, but I had to wait until about two-thirds the way through the film. From an editing perspective, the cuts could have been more inventive, creating a rhythm to compliment the narrative. But as the story neared the end and the store closed, the directors made their own music. It was a beautiful and emotional ‘Trashing the Camps’ style tune that satisfied the itch for something more self-reflective. 

It is important to note that I don’t typically end a review in personal anecdote, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t articulate the profound impact this film had on me. As the credits rolled the theater erupted in applause, I calmly rose from my seat and exited quietly so as not to disturb the fellow movie goer and I walked. I walked to 15 E 4th St, just blocks south from the theater. There’s a coffee shop there now, one of many in the area. But just a few years ago was a record store that changed many lives. 

Basu and Hatch-Miller welcomed me into their world of groove and funk, rock and roll, pop and disco, they sat me down for a history lesson and spit me out onto the streets of New York looking for an album that could fill the vacancy they created. In a world cluttered by noise, this film broke through it all with a heartfelt focus and all I can say is ‘thank you.’ 

Rating: B+ 

Tribeca 2019: "East of The River" Review

Not every life is a fairy tale, but every life has moments of levity, beauty, and love that can be found in them. East of The River is a day in the life film about a young girl who doesn’t seem to have the best life, but she’s making the best of it. Teonna (Ayiana T. Davis) is unexpectedly suspended from school. After trying to find out why and getting no answer, the only question she has is if she can still get breakfast. Suspended and forced to hit the streets, Teonna links up with her friend Malik (Malachi Mack) who seems to ditch school often. They find Sara (Steloni Mason), who has given up school completely for money opportunities in the streets.

Sara takes Teonna and Malik on an adventure through Washington, DC and east of the Anacostia River.  Teonna’s admiration of the older, seemingly more sophisticated Sara is seen through lingering shots of Teonna’s eyeline gazing up at her. Director Hannah Peterson has certainly picked up a few things after serving as a production assistant for Shawn Baker’s The Florida Project. Her use of first time actors to tell this story makes it soaked with authenticity. Peterson’s constraint in allowing a scene to breathe and take shape permits the audience to live in the moment with this group of teenagers. They may not make the most ethical decisions, they’re the kids you wish would be quiet and sit down on the metro, but this is life for them. These are the cards they’ve been dealt and this is how they deal with it.

East of The River is a short that could very well be turned into a feature down the line. Its characters are fully developed and interesting to watch. If nothing else, it’s a good reminder that you can find beauty in the little things of life, and sometimes that gratitude can overcome your surroundings.

Tribeca 2019: "Noah Land" Review

A thoughtful and provoking debut from Cenk Ertürk, “Noah Land” immediately grabs you with a nostalgic score whose auditory familiarity is appropriately somber.

Coming to terms with his terminal illness, Ibrahim (Haluk Bilginer) asks his son Ömer (Ali Atay) to drive him to the village in rural Turkey where he was raised. However, Ömer soon realizes there is an underbelly to this request that slowly surfaces. In short, Ibrahim wants to be buried beneath a tree he planted as a boy. This tree, and more specifically this land, however, had been in dispute which is what cast Ibrahim’s family away from the community years ago. Since, the land has become a holy site of sorts, deemed the “Noah Tree” after the Biblical figure whom the villagers believe first planted it. Ibrahim, adamant of his just burial, must convince his ever-conflicted son for help while he too battles his own demons: a divorce and an insatiable anger brewing out of unaired grievances between himself and his father. Sentimental perhaps, but it is unclear what Ertürk is aiming for with this film. A slow-burning, dry drama that leaves you questioning how you feel about any of it all.

Ertürk uses a conventional color palette nicely throughout, replete with fiery oranges and deep-sea blues. He also uses earth tones as a crutch and the natural beauty of the landscape, for which no one could be faulted. Not as much a conversation piece but more a declaration of fact: rural Turkey is beautiful. Of course, then, Ertürk uses the tree as a central motif to bleed through the photography and color design of the film.

While the score offered a soft blanket to rest on, the sound mixing needed work. Oftentimes too loud, the SFX of breathing felt more like an editing misstep than a creative choice. But the issues didn’t stop there. The film’s problems begin almost immediately, as Ertürk throws the audience into the deep end without explaining how the principal characters connect or even why they act the way they do. Let us begin with the first scene with Ömer and Ibrahim. Ibrahim, sick and elderly, struggles to get out of the car and even more so on his walk into the nearby convenience store. Yet his son, Ömer, not only doesn’t offer to help him, but takes a piece of gum out of his mouth and wedges it into the lock of the passenger side door so that his father must sit in the back. Without the context of their relationship, Ömer’s action appears unnecessarily cruel. Even when we learn more about Ibrahim’s abandonment of Ömer and his mother, it is difficult to sympathize with him.

That being said, as Ibrahim states, “there is a very fine line between revenge and justice,” and Ertürk is using the character to explore that idea. And while Ömer’s relationship with his father is sensibly complicated, it’s his relationship with his ex-wife, Elif (Hande Dogandemir), where things really get muddled. This, of course, is not to discredit the characters themselves because all three actors give incredibly evocative performances. Simply put, Ertürk hasn’t given the audience the means to understand their unique perspectives.

In a thematically driven narrative where metaphor is ubiquitous, it is expected that Ertürk wouldn’t stick every landing. But I’d be doing a disservice to dismiss this film entirely as a failure. It has a plethora of redeeming qualities that would bring me back for a second viewing, including an ending that makes you question—what is it in our dreams that causes us to act in the present? The longer we spend with Ömer and Ibrahim it is clear the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, and at its core, this film paints that picture nicely.

Grade: C+