SXSW 2022 Film – Brilliant Documentaries, Compelling Features

I picked, I watched, I wished – I could see more of SXSW 2022’s stellar film festival offerings. Managing to view both jury and audience narrative film award winner I Love My Dad was a fluke of scheduling, but what a delightful, fresh film that is, among so many other terrific entries.

Let’s dive in:

Narrative Features

Based on the writer/director’s true story, the brilliantly poignant and twisted comedy of I Love My Dad offered a fresh take on the concept of catfishing, the persuasiveness of social media, and parental failings, as well as mental health struggles. The premise of James Morosini’s film is that a dad, rejected by the son who cuts him off from Facebook and text messages, creates a fake Facebook profile to keep an eye on his adult child.

Played with a mix of heartbreaking loneliness and determined delusion, Chuck (Patton Oswalt) convinces his son in the reality of Becca, whose profile photos match that of a waitress kind to Chuck at a local diner. The inevitability of discovery, the high tension stakes of the encounter (the son has recently returned from treatment for a suicide attempt), and the gentle kindness of the film’s humor combine for a unique, uncomfortable, nail-biting experience – well-tempered by laughter. A must watch when it receives its (inevitable?) release. But you would’ve seen it at SXSW 2022 first.

Chee$e – Fresh and fun in its own way — when have you last seen a film about a Trinidadian cheesemaker turned weed smuggler, with a pregnant, very-much part-time girlfriend and ambitions for a better life? The voice-over narration adds context and humor to the first film in a planned trilogy by Damian Marcano; the film is subtitled (primarily for accents and dialect that would otherwise by hard to understand), and has a loopy,  winning dramedy script that keeps viewers rooting for protagonist Skimma (Akil Gerard Williams).  The conclusion leaves audiences somewhat adrift, literally and figuratively, in an otherwise satisfying, stakes-building film. But the same could be said of the far less interesting first installment of Dune. 

Sissy – Social satire with a twist, that’s the darkly comic lure of this female-driven comedy. Social media influencer Sissy (Aisha Dee) is deeply unfortunately reintroduced to a former bff, Emma (Hannah Barlow, who also co-wrote and co-directed, along with Kane Senes). As traumas from Sissy’s past resurface at a bachelorette weekend at a glamorous, remote guest house, increasingly horrendous events unfold, leading to chaos, revenge, and murder. The film’s wit is seductive in getting the audience to root for one character before turning the tables – in an unexpected way.  Somewhat reminiscent of, but smarter than, Blake Lively’s mommy vlogger saga in 2018’s mainstream release, A Simple Favor, in the Australian Sissy, Dee was a terrific lead, and the story surprised with its final twists.

To Leslie – An intense portrait of an alcoholic, Leslie followed the bottom-dwelling life of a former lottery winner, beginning with a devastating interaction with her grown son,  that takes her back to the small town from which she came, only to get unexpected help from a compassionate motel manager. Extremely well acted and atmospheric, at about the 3/4 point began to feel less and less believable, culminating with a happy ending I just didn’t quite buy. That said, Michael Morris’ unflinching direction, based on a true-story-based script from Ryan Bianco, and a compelling lead performance by Andrea Riseborough make this West Texas drama hard to write off.  Perfect moments more than outweighed contrivances; the characters were each richly created; a thumbs-up for a heartfelt story and evocative grit.

Raquel 1:1 – Religious fervor, religious persecution, a mysterious family death, domestic violence – these are the subjects either major or minor in the story of a young girl and her father, newly returned to the father’s hometown in writer/director Mariana Bastos story of a religious teenager named Raquel (Valentina Herszage), haunted by her final moments with her mother as we slowly learn what exactly happened the night of her death. Lots of potential here, and a foreshadowing of something more apocalyptic than rewriting the Bible to be more feminist, opposed by the conservative town “church girls” aka “mean girls.” However, the supernatural never appeared (except in Raquel’s mind, perhaps), and the conclusion drifted away like a teenager’s crush.  Seething with potential,  the film is still worth a view.

Millie Lays Low – While not quite as perfectly paced as I Love My Dad, Millie nonetheless has many of the same conventions of rising tension carried with gentle comedy. Millie is the story of a young New Zealand woman just trying to get a new plane ticket to New York City.  And, like Dad, Millie also relies on social media to craft a personality that just isn’t her. Millie (Ana Scotney) is the recipient of a prestigious architectural scholarship, one she achieved under dubious circumstances. Suffering a panic attack on a NYC-bound flight, she delusionally hopes her Instagram posts, replete with fake backgrounds and happy hashtags will lead others to believe she’s already in the Big Apple, living a good life, instead of sleeping in an Auckland subway, trying to scam a new ticket. Finding her own truth and the true circumstances of others, Millie is forced to confront demons within and unvarnished reality without, all played with edgy dark humor.

Pretty Problems – Another dark comedy – I’m not sure if I picked them, or these picked me. I was intrigued from the very first moment, in which the “meet cute” is between female friends, one extremely wealthy, the other a would-be fashion designer working in a clothing shop. Director Kestrin Pantera’s comic timing is impeccable in a witty look at wealth and privilege written by Michael Tennant. The four-hander takes place on a weekend trip to an estate in Sonoma’s wine country, where a hedonistically fun party leads to revelations about love, sex, friendship, and most importantly of all, trust. So sharp and engaging was the script, the dangling threads at the end can be forgiven, if not entirely written off; the can’t-look-away trainwreck of a house party had enough lively twists and turns to fully engage viewers and render each scene entirely, seductively, and most unfortunately (for the protagonists) believable.

It Is In Us All – Poetic, visceral, terrifying, and mysterious – in equal parts, this Irish thriller takes viewers on a ride edging toward both horror and supernatural, while not quite taking us to either destination. This film will have you thinking about its meaning for a long time, at least it did me. As with so many SXSW films, it’s a find that you’re unlikely to find elsewhere. Director Antonia Campbell-Hughes’ debut feature stars Cosmo Jarvis as Hamish, a privileged businessman, in Donnegal to oversee the dissolution of his aunt’s estate, which he discovers to have also been his mother’s childhood home. But this revelation appears only after a terrible car accident, in which one teen is killed, the other, Evan survives. Hamish and Evan form an unlikely bond,  one that keeps us guessing as to its intent – revenge, near-death experience, sexual attraction? And in the end, who is really alive, following that fatal collision? Who is truly alive, ever? This is a film to seek out, the type of cinematic experience well worth a film chat room discussion or two.

Slash/Back – Although full of promise as a John Carpenter-like horror thriller, with a potent setting in a Canadian village on the Arctic Circle, this teen horror just didn’t work for me, as clearly unprofessional actors somewhat derailed the fun, shape-shifting alien monster premise. Nyla Innuksuk has strong directorial chops nonetheless (she also co-wrote the script Ryan Cavan), giving us a lively group of young teens as the protagonists to save the world.

Deadstream – Another fun horror that didn’t quite work for me. Solo web-streamer goes ghost hunting is the premise, as the besieged and previously discredited live vlogger protagonist reads witty and cruel comments from his streaming audience and interacts with them, a clever conceit for an ultra low budget scarefest. Unfortunately, the premise grew a bit old. Still, a bravura performance by Joseph Winter as the inept vlogger Shawn Ruddy does hold well,  and the quick one-liners and surprisingly effective if limited jump scares do, too.  Kudos for the fun from Winter (with Vanessa Winter, who co-wrote and co-directed) and the sale of this ultra-low budget, clever project to streaming service Shudder.

Documentary Features

32 Sounds – moving from the narrative to documentary,  this terrific original film was an interactive experience, with the audience provided headphones and instructions on when to close eyes among other moments of auditory serendipity. The film is difficult to explain but a treat to experience. Director Sam Green leads the way into a feast of delightful explorations of sound, from an interview with and experience of listening to the lifework of a fascinating recorder of plant sounds to a fetal heartbeat, a Foley sound effects introduction,  and music made from the sound of breaking glass. In love with its 32 soundscapes, this documentary is a joy to ears, eyes, and heart – not to mention an exceptional experience.

Not as mesmerizing as 32 Sounds, but completely engaging in an entirely different way, is the story of The Pez Outlaw, a subject worthy of a novel or narrative release. Amy Bandlien Storkel and Bryan Storkel’s lively doc uses reenactments and reminiscences to fuel the story of a man with undiagnosed OCD who turned a passion for collecting gimmicky toys to an obsession – and million dollar business – from selling Pez containers. Unfortunately, his downfall was Pez America’s bullying company nemesis, who ended up copying “outlaw” Steve Glew’s own designs as well as those Glew brought in from Europe, circumnavigating a grey area in customs law.  A pure delight.

Master of Light – took the jury award for best doc at SXSW, and it is an interesting study of the life and fabulous art of George Anthony Morton, who developed his Classical painting skills over ten years spent in a federal prison. Morton’s reconciliation with his mother, who had him at 15, and raised him in a drug house, is also explored. But the emphasis is on the amazing skill and beauty of his art, and how art itself elevates the spirit. Smoothly directed by Rosa Ruth Boesten, while I wanted more background to the story, the film stays purely focused on the art, which is as masterful as the title suggests.

The Thief Collector – A suburban mom and dad art thief duo are the complex characters dissected in this doc, Allison Otto’s film about the mysterious theft of Willem de Kooning’s masterpiece “Woman-Ochre,” stolen from the University of Arizona Museum of Art in Tucson back in 1985. Three decades later, the painting, worth $160 million, was found in the rural New Mexico home of Jerry and Rita Alter. While the couple lived outwardly conventional lives as school teachers, their global travels, a book of short stories written by Jerry (and reenacted in part in the film), and the alluded-to but never delved-into information that their two children both have “problems,” tell a different story. Enlivened by reminiscences from the couple’s nephew, the story left me wanting more. Mini-series ahead, perhaps?

My features take away: SXSW never ceases to deliver compelling films. It is the freshest major fest around – and Austin is a great city to visit!

Shorts will be coming up next.

  • Genie Davis; images provided by SXSW or film companies/publicists

 

 

 

 

Jennifer Celio Explores the Past at Elephant

 

Jennifer Celio’s impressive solo exhibition, The Wilderness Within closed at Elephant a month ago, but it haunts the imagination – of both viewer and the artist. Celio transformed the intimate space at the Glassell Park gallery into a suburban house garage, one displaying souvenirs and objects that referred to the intersection of the urban (or suburban) world and that of nature. Referencing the hunting of exotic animals, and the hunting of memories and truth, Celio created a treasure-trove of reclaimed and reformed the stories of her childhood.

The quality of memories both restored and expurgated, held dear and in that transitional space between what we know now, and what we knew then,  brings a special poignancy to a terrific installation that serves as a life-size diorama of both the past — and the future of humankind.

The installation is based on Celio’s memories of her grandparents’ Southern California suburban home. The garage, which was also a workshop space for her grandfather, included some elements that were outside the scope of most tract houses of the era. Here were hung exotic animal heads that both horrified and fascinated the artist. Allowed to gather dust in the garage, there were other elements around her grandparents property that exuded the same repulsion and interest – an elephant foot ashtray,  among the memorabilia.  Adding to the somehow both fond and shocking quality of the objects, the artist learned as an adult that these artifacts were not the trophies belonging to her grandfather or half-forgotten purchases from an estate sale, but that they were from her grandmother’s safaris with her previous husband.
Celio’s mixed media work in this installation was a kind of wondrous and strange grab bag of memory itself: there were assemblages, vintage and personal belongings, 80s-style furnishings including lampshades made of macrame, and faux National Park posters. The latter were created in the look of the WPA decade with updated irony in the form of cell towers that look like trees, smart-phone selfie taking, and catch phrases encouraging social media use.
Here, too, were cigarette stubs made from worn pencils, a dart board with faux fur elements, and as a centerpiece, a seating area that includes the aforementioned elephant foot ashtray – this one crafted of paper, wood, and a vintage ashtray.
There are coffee cans that are painted with animal/Africa themes, an umbrella crafted of delicate paper, a series of witty paintings that feature drones.  Creating this immersive environment from diverse memories and facts, Celio used found materials extensively.
Surreal, elegiac, and profoundly intimate,The Wilderness Within was a “garage room” dream of art – all secret finds and perfect small elements, an alchemically transformed space that took the viewer back in time, and back into our hearts, to explore both our often complicated pasts and our relationship with nature, our impact on it and our human family.
Celio’s National Parks poster/painting was one of our favorite elements, and if you missed the magic of Celio’s installation itself, you can pre-order a piece of it: a limited edition giclee print of the work from the artist, who you can reach with a message, among other social media locations, here and here.

 

  • Genie Davis; photos: both my own and provided by the artist

Diverted Destruction at CSULA – 14th Iteration of Making Magic from Discarded Objects

Co-curated by Mika Cho and Liz Gorden,  Diverted Destruction #14 @ Cal State LA, was an absolutely riveting exhibition in which magic was made. Can trash become art? Can magic happen from random discarded items? Indeed it can, in the 14th such exhibition, a series of art exhibits that was begun by Gordon and often hosted at her mid-city Loft at Liz’s gallery.

Yes, the art exemplifies the amazing value of recycling, and highlights the global environment, but it’s materials aside, the works here are imaginative, exciting, and diverse. While the show closed at the end of February, a catalog is available for purchase – and well worth keeping, rather than recycling! – and a 15th edition of the Diverted Destruction series, Demolition will be featured at Loft at Liz’s later this year.

Beautifully encompassing a larger space, the CSULA show at the Ronald Silverman Gallery featured the work of seven SoCal artists: Michael Arata, Kate Carvellas, Aaron Kramer, Dave Lovejoy, Vojislav Radovanovic, Anna Stump, and Monica Wyatt.

The invited artists,  Cal State LA art students, and the curators collected found materials of all kinds producing sculptural and assemblage work that defied category, each revealing beauty and meaning in the reinvention and reincarnation of destined-for-the-dump objects.

Michael Arata (above) created pure excitement in oranges, yellows, and whites, from a sofa to a protruding wall-bench, a striped dog, picture frames and pillows. The large-scale installation dazzled, revelling in its intensely immersive quality like an animated film come to life.

Kate Carvellas‘ (above) riveting wall and freestanding sculptures vibrated with color in many cases; other works were black and white, resembling planetary objects or relics from a lost city. Utterly unique in form, each work was like a profound puzzle, ready for viewers to put together as their own emotions and visual acuity dictated.

 

 

Aaron Kramer (above) offered interactive, whimsical, kinetic works that allowed viewers to touch, spin, and further alchemize his compelling, fantastical mixed media sculptures. The works were a visual art toy box.

Dave Lovejoy’s (above) installations, crafted from cardboard, were large-scale works, highly tactile in nature, reveling in illusionary depth. Utilizing primarily brown cardboard with individual, small, tile-like works of color, his wall work created the sense of walking into a small cozy cabin – in outer space.

Vojislav Radovanovic‘s (above) work spoke of celestial bodies and radiant beings, of stars transcendent and broken, of rising from destruction to reach a destiny of sky. Rich in color, the work spread wide like a hopeful prayer of art.

Anna Stump’s (above) use of recycled metal objects – paint cans, shovels, spatulas and the like – as a canvas for detailed, pastel landscapes shaped a lustrous fairytale, a memory preserved on the past, a dream for the future.

Monica Wyatt’s (above) mysterious, often translucent sculptures resemble stalagmites and stalactites, glowing and crystalline, formed from small bits of circuitry, plastic conductors and the like. Otherworldly, each piece shimmered with light and motion. The shapes also resemble DNA strands and constellations.

Taken as a whole or as works by the individual artists, this exhibition was a celebration of renewal, rebirth, and wonder – the materials of children and trash collectors spun into something entirely special as art.

Along with the artworks, Gordon offered two long buffet tables of found objects for take-home utilization.

If you didn’t see this beautiful series of works live, look for the catalog, and support these artists as they work toward saving the planet – through art.

  • Genie Davis; photos, Genie Davis

 

 

 

Paloma Montoya Top Pick of South Gate Inaugural Exhibition

 

The City of South Gate has chosen Paloma Montoya’s “I’ve Lost my Head Before” as the work of an artist to highlight at the city’s new gallery and museum.  The  inaugural exhibit CUÍDATE / TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, closes this Saturday, March 26th, after a two month run.  Themed around the idea of coping with life during the pandemic, the exhibition uniquely featured artists either local to South Gate itself or to Southeast Los Angeles.

The exhibition was juried by Color Compton founder Abigail-Lopez-Byrd, Chief Curator of the Museum of Latin American Art Gabriela Urtiaga, and artist Ozzie Juarez, founder of Tlaloc studios.

Montoya says her work here was inspired by her own struggle with depression, suicidal ideation, and management of mental health issues. The piece is a diptych. According to the artist,  “The first part symbolizes my long-term struggle with depression and how it progressed from childhood into adulthood. In some ways, I found healing through these dark moments whether through professional help or other means such as close family relationships and support,” she says. “In the first panel, depression is depicted by an anthropomorphic wolf which in itself is struggling to stay afloat. This figure goes through this cycle often, so while it appears as though it is decapitating itself, it continues to live, but like a chicken with its head cut off. In the second panel, a sense of relief is depicted. A sort of light at the end of the tunnel if you will. A vulnerable figure is depicted as a deer. The deer is in a state of peace and calm. I found myself in these moments after such dark places, and what helped me get to such a place was a deeper understanding of myself and a deep love for who I am.”

The piece is part of an ongoing cycle for Montoya. “The two-part work only focuses on the storm and the calm after it. It is more of a generalization of what my experience is as a whole dealing with major depressive disorder. Because it is a cycle for me, I feel that new works can be created stemming from what is depicted in this particular piece. I do have plans for new works that continue to discuss this aspect of my life.

She describes her work over all as deeply personal. “It is really more of a journal into my life. I never considered myself great at words, so the best way for me to express myself is through images, images that I create. I attempt to be completely transparent and vulnerable in my work because I believe that is also what makes the artwork much more powerful. If the viewer can relate to it, then that’s great, but for me, it is mostly a cathartic experience.”

Montoya uses a rich and vivid palette. Working in gouache, she says “I enjoy the vividness of the colors and velvet-like texture that gouache creates. I typically tend to use brighter colors because it brings about a sense of lightness when my works can have a dark narrative. Brighter colors are also reminiscent of the natural world, which I draw my inspiration from. For the most part,  [I use]. very rich, brighter sort of palette, possibly colors leaning more toward the neon side sort of palette; but lately, I have had inspiration for works where colors could be depicted in the cooler/darker range.”

Montoya describes the work as significant in “showing transition.  Although this piece was done pre-pandemic, during the pandemic similar mental health issues rose…most of these issues were due to the pandemic itself. The pandemic was in many ways a transition for us… it ultimately leaves us with reflection, self-reflection and on the rest of the world, and how we can heal and heal one another through our own gifts.”

Viewers can see Montoya’s special gift at the South Gate museum and gallery this weekend, where along with a reception – and the last chance to view this beautifully curated exhibition, there will be an interactive installation and art activity, Weaving Hope, by Yeu Q Nguyen, from 1pm-4pm.

  • Genie Davis; photos provided