Gabino Rodriguez and Luisa Pardo in Nicolás Pereda’s FAUNA. Photo courtesy of SFFILM.
In Fauna, Luisa (Luisa Pardo) and her boyfriend Paco (Francisco Barreiro), both actors, visit Luisa’s remote Mexican hometown and meet up with her brother (Gabino Rodriguez), stepping into humor even drier than the parched landscape. They intend to visit Luisa’s parents (Teresa Sanchez and José Rodríguez López).
Paco wanders into the town, looking for some smokes. He meets an older man, who makes the encounter unnecessarily awkward. It turns out that the man was his girlfriend’s father.
Luisa runs some lines with her mom, and it’s clear to the audience that the mom is much better than the “professional actress”.
In the highlight of Fauna, the three guys go out for a beer. The dad is fascinated by Paco’s tiny role in a big episodic TV series and has him “perform” in the cantina. It’s a masterpiece of cringe humor and comic timing.
José Rodríguez López, always deadpan, is hilarious as Luisa’s dad. Where has this actor been? Despite being nominated for a 1991 Ariel (Mexico’s Oscar) for his first movie performance, Fauna is only his seventh feature film.
More than halfway though, Fauna pivots. Luisa’s brother has been reading a mystery , and the film begins to mirror the book. The deadpan continues throughout all of Fauna’s 70 minutes.
Mexican-born writer-director Nicolás Pereda lives in Toronto, and Fauna competed as a Canadian film at the Toronto Film Festival.
I screened Fauna at the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM). It’s been released into some theaters, but is hard to find.
Idella Johnson, Sivan Noam Shimon and Hannah Pepper in Marion Hill’s film MA BELLE, MY BEAUTY. Courtesy of SFILM.
In the beginning of the simmering romantic drama Ma Belle, My Beauty, the New Orleans musicians Bertie (Idella Johnson) and Fred (Lucien Guignard) receive a surprise visitor. Fred, the band leader and Bertie, the vocalist, have married and relocated their jazz band to a rambling French farmhouse owned by Fred’s parents. Both the marriage and the move were Bertie’s idea, but now she’s depressed and no longer working with the band.
We learn that Bertie, while involved with Fred, had a simultaneous relationship with Lane (Hannah Pepper), until Lane starting dating another woman. Now Lane is single again, and Fred, hoping to shake Bertie out of her depression, has invited Lane to visit and surprise Bertie.
A surprise it is, and not altogether welcome. Bertie tells Hannah that Bertie’s happiness does not depend on either Fred or Lane – but is that true? And is Lane really willing to accept a non-exclusive relationship? And who is whose creative muse?
Bertie and Hannah spar, Hannah has a noisy fling with another guest, sexual tensions simmer, and before you know it, somebody is harnessing on the strap-on.
Almost all the action takes place at the farmhouse and the setting is sumptuous – Grade A Travel Porn. The farm is located in Anduze, France, at the very edge of the Rhone Valley, nestled in the foothills of the Cévennes.
Ma Belle, My Beauty is the first feature by writer-director Marion Hill, and it won an audience award at Sundance. I screened Ma Belle, My Beauty at SFFILM, and, in the Q&A, Marion Hill said that she was seeking to shoot a film in this idyllic French location, along with aspiring to explore the post-breakup dynamics of polyamorous women.
There’s a touch of jazz in Ma Belle, My Beauty, and Idella Johnson’s vocal performance shine.
The setting may be languid, but we know that Hill’s characters may erupt in passion at any moment. Ma Belle, My Beauty is a gorgeous, sexy, character-driven film. I screened Ma Belle, My Beauty at the 2021 SFFILM.
Photo caption: Eric Bana in Robert Connolly’s film THE DRY, which playes at SFFILM. Photo courtesy of SFFILM.
Eric Bana soars in The Dry, an atmospheric, slow-burn tale of murder and long-festering secrets from the Australian outback. The Dry is as psychological as it is procedural.
Bana plays Aaron, a renowned big city police officer who returns to his remote, tiny hometown, for the funeral of his childhood best friend. The friend, with his wife and young son, have been shotgunned to death, and all signs point to a murder-suicide. The friends’ parents implore Aaron to see if there is another explanation.
That task is complicated by the act that Aaron is not welcomed by many in his hometown. His teen heartthrob was mysteriously drowned, and Aaron was a prime suspect, causing him to flee the town. Twenty years later, all he knows is that he didn’t do it and that he lied about his alibi.
As indicated by the title, writer-director Robert Connolly sets The Dry in Australian outback in the Climate Change. The vast, tinder-dry landscapes underscores the literal and psychological isolation of the locals.
Aaron, racked with feelings about the twenty-year-old mystery death, starts investigating the current day murders. He joins up with the inexperienced local cop, and they poke around the rural community over several, searingly hot days. It takes a while to get there, but I thought the payoff justified the slow pace; The Wife didn’t. Both of us were surprised when the The Real Killer was revealed.
Eric Bana’s performance as Aaron is superb. The whole movie is about Aaron trying to keep his investigative focus while being buffeted by feelings about his childhood friends and his hometown and the trauma that caused him to move away from them.
Because of his good looks and his physicality, Bana appears in a lot of big movies that don’t test his emotional range (Hulk, Troy, Black Hawk Down). But Bana is always good and even better in movies like Munich and Hanna, where we get to glimpse his thinking and feeling. For a really good and overlooked Eric Bana movie, I recommend the 2012 thriller Deadfall, available to stream on Amazon, AppleTV, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.
The Dry played at SFFILM in April, but I missed it there. The Dry is now in Bay Area theaters and streaming on AppleTV, YouTube and Google Play.
Caption: A scene from Marilyn Agrelo’s film STREET GANG: HOW WE GOT TO SESAME STREET. Courtesy of SFFILM
There’s a lot to like about Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street, a documentary as charming as the beloved TV series. As groundbreaking as it was, Sesame Street is now a 51-year-old institution, and its origin saga has not been well-known. Most of the key players survive, allowing director Marilyn Agrelo to present the first-hand back story.
We take the concept for granted today, based on the recognition that kids voraciously learn from commercial television – they learn to consume commercially marketed products. Sesame Street’s founders aimed to find out what kids like to watch and what is good for them to watch and put the two together.
Refreshingly. the pioneering producer Joan Ganz Cooney, the visionary Lloyd Morrisette of the Carnegie Foundation and the inventive director/head writer Jon Stone, each gives the credit to the others. If you add Mister Rogers to these folks, you have the Mount Rushmore of children’s television.
Everything in Sesame Street was intentional – like the street setting itself. Noting that most kid shows had fantasy settings, the creators chose a gritty urban neighborhood street to be relatable to disadvantaged urban kids. The same is true for the integrated cast.
Of course, Street Gang highlights the role of the Muppets. At first, the Muppets had their own set, but the creators learned that kids were so entertained by the Muppets that they found the street boring. So, they pivoted and brought the Muppets on to the street.
Jim Henson founded the Muppets as a late night satirical act and brought that adult sensibility to Sesame Street. The jokes embedded for adults encouraged parents to watch Sesame Street with their kids (which the educators thought was important).
There is also the astounding story of Sesame Street in Mississippi, where state government-controlled public television refused to air a show with an integrated cast. Those stations had to reverse themselves when private Mississippi stations put the show on the air.
This had not occurred to me, but Sesame Street requires creation of original music for 100 episodes per year – an enormous body of work. Street Gang takes us into the songwriting craft, with witty gems like Letter B (from Let It Be).
I screened Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street at SFFILM in April. It is widely available to stream today.
Caption: A scene from Marilyn Agrelo’s film STREET GANG: HOW WE GOT TO SESAME STREET. Courtesy of SFFILM
There’s a lot to like about Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street, a documentary as charming as the beloved TV series. As groundbreaking as it was, Sesame Street is now a 51-year-old institution, and its origin saga has not been well-known. Most of the key players survive, allowing director Marilyn Agrelo to present the first-hand back story.
We take the concept for granted today, based on the recognition that kids voraciously learn from commercial television – they learn to consume commercially marketed products. Sesame Street’s founders aimed to find out what kids like to watch and what is good for them to watch and put the two together.
Refreshingly. the pioneering producer Joan Ganz Cooney, the visionary Lloyd Morrisette of the Carnegie Foundation and the inventive director/head writer Jon Stone, each gives the credit to the others. If you add Mister Rogers to these folks, you have the Mount Rushmore of children’s television.
Everything in Sesame Street was intentional – like the street setting itself. Noting that most kid shows had fantasy settings, the creators chose a gritty urban neighborhood street to be relatable to disadvantaged urban kids. The same is true for the integrated cast.
Of course, Street Gang highlights the role of the Muppets. At first, the Muppets had their own set, but the creators learned that kids were so entertained by the Muppets that they found the street boring. So, they pivoted and brought the Muppets on to the street.
Jim Henson founded the Muppets as a late night satirical act and brought that adult sensibility to Sesame Street. The jokes embedded for adults encouraged parents to watch Sesame Street with their kids (which the educators thought was important).
There is also the astounding story of Sesame Street in Mississippi, where state government-controlled public television refused to air a show with an integrated cast. Those stations had to reverse themselves when private Mississippi stations put the show on the air.
This had not occurred to me, but Sesame Street requires creation of original music for 100 episodes per year – an enormous body of work. Street Gang takes us into the songwriting craft, with witty gems like Letter B (from Let It Be).
I screened Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street at SFFILM. It opens today in select San Francisco theaters and will release on VOD on May 6.
Kelley Kali in a scene from Kelley Kali’s and Angelique Molina’s film I’M FINE (THANKS FOR ASKING), playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
In the winning indie I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking), a recently widowed mom has lost her housing and goes on a one-woman crusade to get herself and her daughter back into an apartment. With a one-day deadline to earn the last $200 for a rental deposit, she races the clock through a series of misadventures – both comic and tragic – roller skating around Pacoima, braiding hair and making app-based food deliveries. And she’s putting on the best face, hiding her homelessness (and even convincing her 8-year-old that they’re “camping”). I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) makes powerful statements about housing security and the gig economy in a oft funny, always accessible movie. It’s the first feature for the female, BIPOC filmmakers – shot on a low budget during a pandemic.
A scene from Bo Maguire’s film SOCKS ON FIRE, playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
Socks on Fire is Bo McGuire’s tale of his own family’s inheritance battle over a Hokes Bluff, Alabama, bungalow. The family of church-going Bama football fans – and one drag queen – is jarred and wounded by the mean behavior of one aunt. Enriched by old home movies and re-enactments, this ain’t your conventional talking head documentary. Socks on Fire swings between funny and operatic, and there’s a sweet remembrance of a grandmother in here, too. Won Best Documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival.
A scene from Kentucker Audley’s and Albert Birney’s film STRAWBERRY MANSION, playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
The very trippy and ultimately sweet fable Strawberry Mansion is set in a future where people’s dreams are taxed. An Everyman tax auditor (co-writer and co-director Kentucker Audley) is assigned to the dreams of an elderly artist and is plunged into an Alice in Wonderland experience with her dreams, and his dreams, and a romance, to boot. Strawberry Mansion is also a sharp and funny critique of insidious commercialism.
Socks on Fire had its North American theatrical premiere at a drive-in event – complete with live drag queen performances – as SFFILM’s centerpiece event. I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) and Strawberry Mansion can be streamed at home through April 18. Tickets are available at SFFILM.
A scene from Ran-hee Lee’s film A LEAVE. Courtesy of SFFILM
Ran-hee Lee’s unpretentious A Leaveis a surprisingly insightful slice-of-life into the modern global workplace. It opens on Day 1893 of a labor sit-in, as laid-off workers hold out to get reinstated in their longtime jobs. They have obviously lost this struggle a long while ago, although not everyone is ready to internalize that fact and move on. Middle-aged Jaebok, one of the sit-in;s remaining leaders, decides to take a leave from organizing that he characterizes as “like taking a leave from work”.
With some distance from the day-to-day campaign, he’s back in his apartment, and back to clogged drains and surly teenagers. He realizes that, without a paycheck, he cannot give his kids what they need (and his bright, promising older daughter needs college tuition). So, Jaebok finds a job in the new economy.
A scene from Ran-hee Lee’s film A LEAVE. Courtesy of SFFILM
It turns that his new job is as a temp contract worker in a sweat shop that supplies a big company like the one that laid him off. His new boss sells the opportunity with, “the company is disaster-free” – a low bar if ever there were one.
Jaebok, used to a decades-long career path with a single employer is puzzled by the revolving door of fellow workers. Only one young guy stays for more than a couple days, and many of the others must be undocumented immigrants working illegally.
The younger worker is not used to any continuity of co-workers – and not used to having relationships with his co-workers, something that Jaebok thinks is normal. The kid believes that asking for an eight hour shift is quaint.
A Leave is the first feature for writer-director Ran-hee Lee. She knows how to tell a little story in a little movie, which is not faint praise at all. Sometimes a little story is the best way to unmask great truth.
Lee uses non-actors in the film Her leading man is a 49-year-old guy who was laid off in real life and then picked up a temp job as a low wage contractor with undocumented, very green co-workers.
I screened A Leave for the SFFILM, where it won a jury mention.
A scene from Ran-hee Lee’s film A LEAVE. Courtesy of SFFILM
A scene from Angeles Cruz’s NUDO MEXTECO. Photo courtesy of SFFILM
In Nudo Mixteco, we visit an indigenous Mixtec village in Southern Mexico and get three dramas for the price of one. It’s the annual festival, and three long-absent locals return home. One is there for her mom’s funeral. another to intervene in her daughter’s welfare and the third has just decided that’s time to come back home.
Nudo is Spanish for “knot”, and the three stories form a loose braid. As in Kieślowski’s Blue/Red/White, the characters in each plot thread can be spotted in the others.
In each story, the women face constraints of patriarchy and traditional culture. An out lesbian has built a life in the city, but her father in the village cannot accept her sexuality, and even blames it for her mother’s death. Another woman also works in the city, and has left her daughter to be cared for by her sister in the village; reports of the daughter’s behavior trigger concern stemming from the mom’s own childhood sexual abuse.
In the third story, a village man has been working in the US. He had promised his wife that he would be gone six months, but it’s been three years. He expects that he can resume their lives as before, but his wife has moved on. Each feels betrayed by the other, and the village is convened to reach a community decision on a just outcome.
Nudo Mixteco is the debut feature for writer-director Angeles Cruz, who has won Ariels (Mexico’s Oscars) for her short films. Cruz is an accomplished actress, who was nominated for a best actress Ariel in 2018.
I screened Nudo Mixteco at SFFILM, where it won a jury award.
A scene from Angeles Cruz’s NUDO MEXTECO. Photo courtesy of SFFILM
Kelley Kali in a scene from Kelley Kali’s and Angelique Molina’s film I’M FINE (THANKS FOR ASKING), playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
In the winning indie I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking), Danny (Kelley Kali) is a recently widowed mom who has lost her housing and is on a one-woman crusade to get herself and her daughter back into an apartment.
Scraping together her earnings from here and there, she’s only $200 away from enough deposit for a new apartment. That 200 bucks is the MacGufffin of I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking), and Danny frantically roller skates around Pacoima, braiding hair and making app-based food deliveries.
With a one-day deadline, Danny races the clock through a series of comic and tragic misadventures, suffering more than her share of indignities. She’s desperate, but she still bypasses the off-ramps that would sacrifice her independence and personal integrity.
It’s also important to Danny that no one knows that she’s a mom who is homeless. Danny (Kali), Danny has even been telling her precocious 8-year-old daughter Wes (Wesley Moss) that they’re “camping”, but Wes is about to catch on.
Danny does let her situation slip to a couple of friends; (ironically, one’s housing depends on a new boyfriend and the other has inherited his). She gets more judginess than unconditional support.
We hear of “one paycheck away from being homeless”, but what about those hard-working folks in the informal economy who don’t get any paycheck at all? I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) makes powerful statements about housing security and the gig economy in a oft funny, always accessible movie.
I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) is an authentic and clear-eyed portrait of a woman navigating out of a fix. Danny is not an artificially noble character – not all of her choices are ideal. But she is driven by devotion to her daughter.
In a tour de force performance, Kelly Kali is a tornado of hustle. They say that acting is reacting, and Kali’s face tells us when she is thinking “I’m not going to go THERE” or “WTF am I going to tell my kid?”. Her Danny puts on the best possible face in a way to convince her acquaintances (without being convincing to the clued-in movie audience).
Deon Cole (Blackish) delivers a brief, magnetic turn as one tempting and very bad potential choice for Danny.
This is the first feature for co-directors Kelley Kali and Angelique Molina, who co-wrote I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) with Roma Kong (also first feature). (Kali was also one of nine co-directors credited on The Adventures of Thomasina Sawyer). This film is especially well-paced, as Kali and Molina economically set up the situation that Danny and Wes are in and then keep up with Danny as she spurts from vignette to vignette on her quest.
Let’s not overlook that this is another example of female filmmakers, on the hunt for quality source material, writing it themselves. And they shot it on a low budget during a pandemic. With the matter of fact masking of the characters, I’m Fine is ever COVID-conscious.
I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) won two jury awards at SXSW and can be streamed through April 18 at SFFILM.
A scene from Marilyn Agrelo’s film STREET GANG: HOW WE GOT TO SESAME STREET, playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
This year’s San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM) opens tomorrow, April 9, and runs through April 18. As always, it’s a Can’t Miss for Bay Area movie fans. This year, you can attend at home: with the exception of a few drive-in events at Fort Mason, the movies can be streamed.
The menu at SFFILM includes 42 feature films and 56 shorts from 41 countries, with 13 world premieres and 20 North American or US premieres. Of the 103 total films, 57% have female directors and 57% are directed by BIPOC.
Besides the streaming, here’s what’s new in this year’s SFFILM:
After years of programs impeccably curated by Bay Area treasure Rachel Rosen, Jessie Fairbanks takes over as Director of Programming. (And this is the first SFFILM fest for new SFFILM Executive DIrector Anne Lai.)
A cross section of movies highlighted as Family-friendly films, something that more film festivals should do. Introduce the kids to good cinema!
Mid-Lengths – a competition of five movies with hard-to-program running times of 30-50 minutes.
The festival’s Closing Night Film is Marilyn Agrelo’s documentary Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street, the origin story of the beloved children’s show.
I’ve screened some of the films, and I’ll be recommending some indie gems soon.
