Small Axe 4: Alex Wheatle (2020) | Directed by Steve McQueen

 5/5

Steve McQueen’s Alex Wheatle, the fourth film in the Small Axe anthology series, is another stellar entry exploring the Black West Indian community in London and the ways that connection, community, and activism are intertwined in the struggle against oppression. The previous installment’s ending notes of quiet resignation over a broken system lead perfectly here into the title character’s feelings of helplessness over being trapped within that same system at the beginning of this film. The film’s exploration of the ways in which the dominant, white power structures attempts to cut young Black children off from their roots and culture is gut-wrenching. But as in all of the Small Axe films, McQueen doesn’t leave us in the sorrow and the pain. Once Alex moves into a predominantly Black neighborhood, the joy that erupts on his face is lovely. Growing up as a ward of the state, we’re shown the ways that he doesn’t quite fit in with the members of the West Indian community he’s moved into, and yet he’ll never be accepted by the dominant white culture that raised and abused him as a child. And so the tension within the film arise from his need to carve his own path. As with so many of the films in this anthology, music plays an integral role in creating the mood and the atmosphere, but also in telling the story – it’s Alex’s point of connection and entry-point to the community. Just as powerful are the visual touches McQueen peppers throughout – the low angle, slow push in on Alex at multiple points throughout his life as he is restrained by social workers, police officers, and other agents of the racist power structure. Most powerful is the photo montage of protests that comes midway through the film, accompanied by a spoken word poem that reflects Alex’s dawning political awareness. And like all of the films in the Small Axe anthology, this is a film about the need for connection and community, offering the first possibility for escape from this broken system that we’ve seen.

The Mole Agent (2020) | Directed by Maite Alberdi

 4.5/5

Maite Alberdi’s The Mole Agent is such a charming and delightful little documentary – filled with so much warmth and melancholy sadness. This undercover “spy” film is filled with delightful noir touches – from the high contrast lighting during Sergio’s “reporting” to his boss, to the way our 84-year-old mole trails his targets in the retirement home and attempts to be inconspicuous, but (as one of the few lucid male residents in the facility) is chatted up by all of the women who pass by. As charming and funny as the film can be, it also quickly reveals the aching loneliness of aging and the ways that we in so many societies warehouse our elderly. Sergio becomes our window into a world and a community that few of us have ventured into for any extended period of time. Alberdi’s genius is situating this all within a playful framework that allows for more depth and emotion to show through.

Dick Johnson Is Dead (2020) | Directed by Kirsten Johnson

 4.5/5

Kirsten Johnson’s Dick Johnson Is Dead is such a lovely, heartbreaking, joyous, and life-affirming meditation on life, death, family, and what it means to lose the ones you love. It’s especially captivating to see how messy and almost unformed the film is at times – you can see Johnson discovering the film, uncovering her themes and ideas, as she is making it. It’s also incredibly heartening to see how readily she engages with the ethics of making a film about the impending loss of her father while her father is still alive, yet while his is in the beginning stages of senility – even though he seems eager and ready to try anything, she never shies away from showing the moments where he is no longer able to distinguish what is real and what is part of the movie, or from showing the real pain that this exploration of death causes his close friends. Then there are the moments of pure joy, such as the recreations of heaven – complete with dancing and feathers and confetti and chocolate fountains – or the macabre death sequences deconstructed before our eyes. It all gets at some deeper truths about family, love, loss, and learning to let go.

Where to Watch

Mayor (2020) | Directed by David Osit

 4.5/5

David Osit’s Mayor is a riveting documentary following the Christian mayor of Ramallah in Palestine as he attempts to run a functioning city government under the pressures of a foreign occupation. Opening with a swelling score that links Mayor Hadid’s efforts for Ramallah with the the efforts of mayors in other great cities of the world – New York, London, Paris, Berlin – we’re shown a man who is doggedly insistent on providing for his citizens – whether it’s simply taking care of the city’s sewage, fixing the doors on a local school, or keep the lights on for the city Christmas tree. In watching Hadid’s daily struggles of trying to keep a city running while illegal settlements on the outskirts of the city are dumping their sewage into the city, or while occupying soldiers invade and harass citizens, the film does more to show the indignities of life under Israeli occupation than any informational documentary could ever do. Lest you think it’s all grim and depressing, the film is still filled with so much warmth and humor – opening with a city council discussion on branding (What is branding? How do you brand a city?), a Christmas celebration that includes multiple Santa Clauses rappelling down the sides of buildings, and a public fountain that Mayor Hadid is desperately trying to perfect before it officially opens to the public. But hovering over all of the municipal projects that Hadid is attempting to oversee, there is the specter of America’s decision to formally recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel and move the American embassy to Jerusalem – a move which threatens the stability of Ramallah and all of Palestine. Osit captures all of this with a quiet, vérité approach, letting us discover key details along the way – whether it’s large moments like Israeli soldiers invading Ramallah or small moments like Hadid constantly fiddling with his e-cigarette as his anxiety grows. This is a fantastic documentary that is a necessary corrective to so much of the propaganda we receive from our own government about the relationship between Israel and Palestine.

First Cow (2019) | Directed by Kelly Reichardt

 5/5

Kelly Reichardt’s First Cow is another masterpiece of quiet restraint, patient storytelling, and richly down characters. Reichardt trusts her audience’s patience and takes her time guiding us into the narrative, revealing the characters, and slowly building on her themes and ideas. So many westerns, so many pioneer stories, are about the promise of America, the myth that this is a country in which anyone can build their fortune and make their dreams come true. Reichardt is interested in exposing the lie at the heart of so much of our American myth-making – ingenuity and resourcefulness is rarely enough, the American dream is often achieved through theft, bloodshed, or some other access to power and privilege. She also continues her exploration of outsiders seeking connection and stability inside a world and system that doesn’t have a place for them. The restrictions of the 1.37:1 aspect ratio help us feel as boxed in by the narrative as our two protagonists do by their situation, and the natural lighting keeps us from romanticizing their endeavors, even as they continually attempt to romanticize their stab at the American dream. It’s an incredible film – a gentle heist film by way of buddy dramedy that is all-too honest about the endings of such reckless endeavors.

Where to Watch

I’m Thinking of Ending Things (2020) | Directed by Charlie Kaufman

 4.5/5

Charlie Kaufman’s I’m Thinking of Ending Things is an eerie and haunting meditation on mortality, missed opportunities, and the passage of time – all wrapped up in a dissection of narcissistic masculinity’s inability to let go of the past. The film features a male character that, in previous Kaufman films, would have been where all our sympathies lie. However, the film is structured in such a way that our entry and point-of-view lies almost entirely with the young woman who would normally only exist as the object of this character’s romantic obsession. This gives us a much more honest vantage from which to observe the controlling obsessiveness in so much of toxic male behavior, and it manages to show the consequences for this behavior on others – even as we question what is real and what is delusion. While so many of Kaufman’s films are filled with a kind of wistful melancholy that allows you to look fondly on the characters and their existential crises, here, the use of the slowly drifting camera, the restrictive Academy ratio, and the jarring edits all combine to keep us off-killer, expecting horror or terror to seep into the frame at any moment. It’s an uncomfortable, difficult film that invites us to return for a further interrogation of its narrative and its mysteries, while simultaneously encouraging us to interrogate the self-deceptions we live with each and every day.

Where to Watch

Beastie Boys Story (2020) | Directed by Spike Jonze

 4/5

Spike Jonze’s Beastie Boys Story is a completely unexpected and thoroughly delightful blending of live performance and documentary that allows the surviving members of the Beastie Boys to tell their own story with warmth, honesty, and a surprising amount of humor. It’s fun to see that Jonze is becoming a skilled director of live performance pieces for film. The film’s use of live oral history is a joy to watch in front of the live audience as Mike Diamond and Adam Horovitz are both incredibly compelling storytellers. The inclusion of archival footage in the live stage production is a nice choice, and there are some fun gags they’re able to use that Jonze takes full advantage of for this film version – such as coming in for a close up as they pantomime walking against street footage. But the most compelling part of the film is their reflection on the mistakes of their early career, the growing awareness of their own privilege and the sexism in their early work, and the ways they have tried to rectify those mistakes and push back against the sexism they once helped perpetuate. It’s a surprisingly hopefully story of continued growth and change and maturity. And the celebration of the life and creativity of Adam Yauch throughout the film is incredibly moving. Whether you’re a fan of the Beastie Boys or new to their work, this is a wonderful ode to their creativity and music, as well as our capacity to grow and change.

Where to Watch

76 Days (2020) | Directed by Hao Wu, Weixi Chen, and Anonymous

 4.5/5

Hao Wu, Weixi Chen, and Anonymous’ 76 Days is a raw, immediate, gripping, and powerful documentary about the 76 days of lockdown at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic in Wuhan, China. Since the United States still hasn’t come to terms with the consequences of this deadly pandemic, it’s extremely startling to see these early days of the outbreak and the ways that health care providers attempted to respond to the crisis. Wu and his co-directors achieve a vérité immediacy which is hard to watch at times, but is certainly what we need to see more of right now – hospitals overwhelmed and unable to treat all of the patients suffering from the virus, the exhaustion of the health care workers, parents separated from newborn children due to the risk of exposure… it places the realities of the pandemic in stark and very clear terms. And yet, as difficult as the situation is, Wu (who edited footage that his co-directors shot and smuggled out of China), manages to find moments of humor in the midst of the tragedy, as well as moments of deep human warmth and connection while these health care workers from across the country struggle to save lives and show compassion for those in their care. It’s a powerful film that offers a stark contrast to the abysmal way that our own country has responded to this crisis through the ineptitude of the Trump administration and the selfishness of so many of our people, and it’s a film that reminds us that we have yet to grieve this tremendous loss of life that was entirely preventable.

Where to Watch

Small Axe 3: Red, White and Blue (2020) | Directed by Steve McQueen

 5/5

Steve McQueen’s Red, White and Blue is the third installment in his Small Axe anthology, and while this is a much quieter and more nuanced piece than the previous two installments, there is something so profoundly sad and heartbreaking in the film’s quiet resignation. The story’s two central characters are dedicated to fighting against injustice, but both come face-to-face with the wearying indifference and apathy, the outright hostility and racism of those in positions of authority, and the distrust of the greater community. A lesser film would show Leroy Logan, the real-life police officer at the center of the narrative, either fixing the broken system or being ground down by the racism he experiences on a daily basis. But once again, we see that McQueen is such a skilled filmmaker, forcing us to sit with the tension, asking us whether fundamentally broken, flawed, and racist systems can be changed from the inside. In the face of such overwhelming opposition, is it better to stay and try to make incremental changes – even in the face of dehumanizing treatment by colleagues – or is it better to leave these toxic environments and keep your sanity? As with the previous installments, this is a gorgeous, poetic film that says as much in its imagery as it does in its narrative – whether it’s the silent shot of father and son embracing through a car window and reconnecting after a deep fissure, the quick clip of the training montage that illustrates just how exceptional Logan has to be in order to be taken seriously, the shot of birds in flight after group of teenagers has run off, or the long and tense tracking shot as Logan chases down a suspect. This may not be as flashy as the other two entries in the Small Axe series, but this is just as moving and powerful.

Welcome to Chechnya (2020) | Directed by David France

 4.5/5

David France’s Welcome to Chechnya is a brutal, hard-to-watch, but deeply moving and absolutely essential documentary about the persecution of the LGBTQ+ community in Chechnya. The use of digital faces for LGBTQ+ individuals who are fleeing for their lives may be one of the best uses of digital filmmaking technology for ethical documentary ends. And it leads to one of the most moving moments in the entire film. The film has sequences that are structured a bit like a thriller, as we follow Russian activists working to get LGBTQ+ individuals out of the country by whatever means necessary. Scenes are punctuated by footage obtained by activists of the brutal torture, murder, and assault of members of the Chechen LGBTQ+ community by police, soldiers, and even members of their own families. It’s horrifying footage that drives home the need for international pressure to be placed on Russia and Chechnya (of which the Trump administration has remained silent), and for more countries to open their borders to Chechen LGBTQ+ refugees (of which the US has admitted none). It’s an important film that shows the dire consequences for persecuted communities when a country allows the bigotry and religious zealotry of one group to control an entire nation.