Amal
2007 (Canada)
Director: Richie Mehta
Richie Mehta’s fable of Delhi slums and mansions, Amal, aims quite explicitly to be a Diwali Gift of the Magi. While its Indian setting is rarely superfluous, Amal’s focus on the endurance of decency and the morally eroding nature of privilege is uncluttered and accessible. The film presents autorickshaw wallah Amal–portrayed with captivating subtlety by Rupinder Nagra–as just about the most honest, patient, and gentle soul in the world. His kindness towards a grumpy vagrant triggers an amazing destiny that rushes invisibly towards him, even as he struggles with the suffocating demands of clients, his mother, and an injured orphan under his care. Implausibility worries the edges of Amal’s character, but Nagra convinces with his tentative speech and nervous smiles. Some of the film’s characters border on cartoonish, and Mehta never quite attains a needed balance between the film’s sagging realism and its fairy tale glint. While the pacing staggers around a bit initially–Mehta seems reluctant to reach obvious conclusions and essential destinations–Amal picks up steam in its second half, when the twists and revelations quickly begin to click into place. It’s no kind of masterpiece, but it is a sweet and memorable tale.
Konkakt
2005 (Macedonia)
Director: Sergej Stanojkovski
The ragged comedic swagger of Sergej Stanojkovski’s marvelous Kontakt is a complement to the tragic realism of Aditya Assarat’s Wonderful Town. This fable of challenging, unlikely love in a contemporary Macedonia of slate skies and festering wounds ambles along with a soulful awareness of human misery. The avaricious schemes of a relation brings together two social castoffs: Habitual convict Janko (Nikola Kojo) grudgingly accepts a job to renovate the dilapidated villa where Zana (Labina Mitevska) convalesces after three years in a mental institution. They immediately dislike one another. However, this is not the convenient, overwrought antagonism of a screwball comedy, but a plausible defense thrown up by souls fed a diet of mistrust, anxiety, and hostility. Kontakt weaves in other narrative threads as well as Macedonian cultural and historical embellishments, but the odd relationship between Janko and Zana is at the forefront of the film. With bouts of dark chuckles and an effortless hand, Stanojkovski renders their fitful romance so gradually its believability fades away as a concern. Never mind that portly Janko is a violent misanthrope, or that skinny Zana is an emotional cripple. The first time Janko utters the word “sweetheart”–almost off-handedly–one’s heart thrills.
The Pope’s Toilet (El baño del Papa)
2007 (Uruguay)
Directors: César Charlone and Enrique Fernández
The Pope’s Toilet functions as both a wild-eyed melodrama and a rather pointed anti-papal jab. Directors César Charlone and Enrique Fernández rely on an apposite bitterness for the emotional foundation of their film. And why not?: There’s nothing to suggest that this desperate, occasionally witty tale of a small-town Uruguayan smuggler and his get-rich-quick scheme–involving a pay toilet and Pope John Paul II’s 1988 visit to the region–will end happily. César Troncoso delivers an engaging turn as Beto, a grasping, defeated little man who seems incapable of thinking beyond the next week, despite his airy ambitions. However, The Pope’s Toilet calls out for a more appealing protagonist; Beto’s venality only seems mild compared to the corrupt border official who bedevils him. More interesting than their clumsy characterization is Charlone and Fernández’s ambivalence about the role of Catholicism in Uruguayan society. The pontiff’s visit is little more than a financial opportunity for Beto and his fellow villagers, one that proves ultimately hollow. The Pope’s Toilet asserts with a sharpness born of disillusionment that even the tangible blessings of Catholic faith are farcical, mere honeyed promises that do little to alleviate poverty.
Stranded: I’ve Come From a Plane That Crashed on the Mountains
2008 (France)
Director: Gonzalo Arijon
The overdue documentary response to Frank Marshall’s 1993 drama, Alive, Stranded conveys with profound respect and tremendous upwellings of emotion the story of the Andes flight disaster. It’s a survival tale seemingly so familiar that the human power that underlies is often forgotten. Director Gonzalo Arijon seeks to rectify this with a stirring, sublime film that focuses on the first-hand experience of the sixteen survivors. Emulating Errol Morris with stylized recreations and an absence of narration, Arijon allows the survivors to convey the story of the crash and the ordeal that followed, dwelling not only on the grisly choices they made, but also on the sheer uncanniness of their situation. The survivors recall the details of their trial with stunning clarity, and Arijon delicately frames their meticulous remembrances and their sobering meditations on life and death. Time and again, the men profiled in Stranded return to the notion that the world in the Andes was a New World, different from the world of family, friends, and comfort they left behind. Exhibiting a mysterious blend of pain and ecstasy, they speak of sacrifice, death, and resurrection with the authority of saints. What a powerful film.