Good One

 

Writer/director India Donaldson

actress Lily Collias

Donaldson with Lily Collias

The director on the set

GOOD ONE               B                                                                                                               USA  (89 mi)  2024  ‘Scope  d: India Donaldson

Premiering at Sundance in 2024, yet also widely circulating on the festival circuit, where it played in more than thirty different film festivals, including Director’s Fortnight at the Cannes Film Festival, yet very little has been heard about this film, flying completely under the radar, where this is about as minimalist a film as you could possible create, seemingly out of nothing, with no narrative to speak of, a portrait in miniature of passing into adulthood, yet it’s all bathed in the pristine naturalism of a 3-day backpacking trek through the national forest of the Catskills in upstate New York.  While it bears a resemblance to Kelly Reichardt’s early film Old Joy (2006), which may be the cinematic template for this film, it lacks the sly homoeroticism and 60’s counterculture vibe of that film, which was shot in the rugged Oregon Cascade mountains of the Pacific northwest, instead approaching the subject through the lens of a generational divide.  It may also recall the outsider father/daughter dynamic living off the grid deep in the woods from Debra Granik’s remarkable 2018 Top Ten List #5 Leave No Trace.  Pared down to its bare bones, there’s little to no story, as not much happens, where this is about as low-key as you can get, more of a character study with nuance that is deceptively simple, where what lies beneath the surface is everything.  The daughter of New Zealand filmmaker Roger Donaldson (one of the many producers), having grown up in the business, this is the director’s debut feature, written with an eye on minute details, where if you blink you’ll miss what’s happening here, as it’s about as subtle a film as you’ll ever see, with a few interesting 70’s and 80’s choices of alternative music, like Kay Gardner - Touching Souls YouTube (5:45), Kevyn Dymond - Endless Present [US] Psych Folk (1984) YouTube (3:16), or a Nico and the Velvet Underground sounding Moonlove - All Your Mysteries YouTube (2:45).  Lily Collias in her first leading role is 17-year old Sam, a girl from Brooklyn in a relationship with another girl, mostly unseen except through text messages, just weeks away from heading off to college, becoming the central figure of the film as she embarks on a weekend excursion with two divorced dads, her own, Chris, James Le Gros from Kelly Reichardt’s Certain Women (2016), and his longtime best friend Matt, Danny McCarthy from the Coen brother’s The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018).  The total opposite of a Hollywood depiction, this trimmed down, offbeat approach is much more authentic, capturing the human experience in such a raw and visceral way, where nothing feels overly forced, accentuating what’s left unspoken, with a continual back and forth between these three characters, yet right from the outset there is turbulence, as Matt’s teenage son Dylan was also supposed to go, but abruptly refuses at the last minute, which is seen as part of the collateral damage from the recent divorce, still angry at his dad, blaming him for their separation.  Every child has that moment when they realize their own parents are flawed.  And while there is plenty of muttering under his breath, Matt is resigned to go without him, but it’s an inauspicious sign undermining whatever good intentions were originally planned.  Essentially a coming-of-age, father-daughter movie, but not a conventional one, with Matt serving as a comic relief sidekick and the butt of all jokes, continually making cocky and potentially offensive statements, as the filmmaker plays around with audience expectations and how easy it is to ignore the warning signs, where you never know what lies ahead as they head into the woods.    

Another film that was developed during the pandemic, allowing Donaldson an opportunity to spend time building her fictionalized characters, inspired by how an isolated environment could draw out family dynamics, often in funny and unexpected ways, creating something that was intimate and emotionally contained.  Ostensibly a buddy movie between two bickering old friends whose competing egos are a handful, continually airing long-held grievances, both seemingly suffering from a midlife crisis, chirping at one another endlessly, much of it dealing with their own personal regrets, with an overcontrolling Chris coming across as a self-absorbed know-it-all, who left Sam’s mother for a younger woman (she cheated first is his rationale), while the more anxiously insecure Matt wallows in his combustible feelings, with Sam silently sitting in the middle, occasionally acting as the arbitrar, continually trying to smooth things over.  Everything happens very slowly, as this film is painstakingly patient, allowing the words to sit with viewers and resonate, where it’s never anything profound, but more a reflection of their wounded state of mind, where both men come across as damaged goods with frazzled nerves, who tend to get tipsy, bringing along a flask, where they seem to be their own worst enemies, all but ignoring Sam, who may as well be invisible.  After spending the night in a one-roomed motel with two beds, and Sam sleeping on the floor, where the guys spend most of the evening in the bar, they get up early the next day, with Chris finding fault with everything Matt decides to pack, or overpack, as he’s brought any number of useless items, perhaps a metaphor for that overcluttered brain of his.  Yet once on the trail, the verdant scenery couldn’t be more calming and peaceful, enraptured by the sound of babbling brooks, where there’s a reason people visit these places, as it’s like a religious experience cleansing the soul.  Dad always takes the lead, like a military reconnaissance mission, with Sam a short distance behind, while Matt always brings up the rear.  It’s not your typical adventure, with a designated place in mind, instead it simply allows the wind and forest sounds to seep into their consciousness, changing up the landscape, altering the routines, discovering the beauty of the great outdoors.  Of course, there are other things that stand out, like not disturbing the environment, or attracting bears, so it’s important to bury waste products and keep all food covered, things Sam has already learned and does automatically, as respecting the environment they are in is an essential aspect of the journey, maintaining a balance at all times.  Who knew that the greatest risk of all was her own femininity?  They appear to be well-educated campers, so when they set up camp for the night, it comes as a surprise when three other male hikers stop to camp right next to them, taking advantage of the shared company.  This may not be what everyone desires, as who likes to feel crowded in the open terrain of the wilderness, but no one makes a fuss.  However, any male threat they pose to Sam, who suddenly finds herself overwhelmed and completely ignored by a sea of masculinity, is immediately overlooked in the interest of getting along and having a good time. 

While the lush beauty and contemplative atmosphere are the real highlight, what stands out is that Sam, who can be sullen at times, is wise beyond her years, seemingly acting more adult than the adults, where she actually says the least, yet her character stands out the most, assuredly connecting with her inner self, confidently saying so much largely through facial expressions, as she does not miss much, ultimately becoming the heart of the movie.  Being female and gay, her life is radically different from these two adult men whose lives are constantly in turmoil, thinking only of themselves, having little time for her, which this film makes very apparent.  Matt is something of an unfiltered chatterbox, but his emotions are raw, out there and exposed, coming up with the weirdest things to say, some of which is easily ignored, while other things can stick with you.  Chris is more tightly wound and reserved, used to managing his emotions and keeping them in check, yet it’s clear he loves and respects his daughter, but his measured tone can feel awkwardly stiff, like he’s playing a role, hiding what he really feels deep inside.  Both men have been deeply wounded by marriage and divorce, something that tore a hole in them, with frustrations literally seeping out of them, where this trip is an attempt to heal those open wounds.  There’s a delicate progression to the film, as the characters come to life, personalities are revealed, with viewers rewarded by glorious waterfalls and some magnificent vistas overlooking a glistening blue lake down below.  Their habits become known to us, with Sam being the responsible “good one,” actually preparing the meals, while also seen cleaning the cooking utensils by rubbing dirt in the bowls, as water is a precious commodity, used sparingly.  There is no cellphone reception deep into the forest, so they are disconnected from the outside world, having only themselves, becoming something of a family unit, with Sam and her dad sharing one tent, while Matt has the other, even bringing foldable chairs to sit on in camp.  There’s a moment that takes us aback, as Matt drunkenly blurts out something that inappropriately crosses a line, with Sam doing a doubletake, not at all amused, shocked at what she hears, but this happens organically, with no dramatic overtones, yet clearly Sam is offended.  The next day when she tries to tell her dad about it, he tries to minimize her outrage, hoping to lessen the impact, telling her to suck it up and not ruin the trip, but his apathy only makes things worse, as the damage has been done, and the floodgates have been opened.  It couldn’t be more quietly devastating, but Sam’s behavior afterwards reveals everything, telling us all that we need to know without any words being spoken.  The subtlety on display is impressive, carving out its own path, but the drama, what little there is, is more about the power of observation, allowing each individual viewer to come to their own conclusions, with an abrupt ending that really has no resolution, but exudes in the power of silence.  Shot in just 12 days by Wilson Cameron, a former visual effects producer, where the rhythm of the film is unwavering, capturing the beauty of the forest, with close-up shots of plants and insects, along with some interesting rock formations, and more than a few unexpected surprises, accompanied by an original score by Celia Hollander that never intrudes, but its ethereal presence is felt throughout.  In the end credits, special thanks are given to indie staples David Gordon Green and Larry Fessenden. 

Once Upon a Time in a Forest (Havumetsän lapset)

 

Director Virpi Suutari

ONCE UPON A TIME IN A FOREST (Havumetsän lapset)             B+                                      Finland  (93 mi)  2024  d: Virpi Suutari

I understand that they have good intentions, but I still feel terrified of the future.  I wonder if they have ever questioned their own point of view when it comes to making profound changes, not just about trying to maximize timber production in Finland.                                                  —Minka Virtanen, climate change activist

A spectacularly beautiful film that is both touching and inspiring, gorgeously shot by Teemu Liakka and Jani Kumpulainen, literally immersing viewers in the sensuality of one of the last coniferous forest areas in Europe, where it is impossible not to be awed by the magnificence of untouched Finnish forests and the magic it inspires.  While this film is largely a love letter to climate change activists, singling out a few from the Metsäliike Forest Movement and then following them over a period of time, it is not an overall discussion on the merits of the conservation movement, and does not intend to present a balanced viewpoint, preferring instead to pose ethical issues, and while some industry officials are seen and heard, the need for environmental protection is not really in question.  Instead it’s a more personalized glimpse of several members who have aligned themselves with non-violent, yet radical change, resorting to civil disobedience measures to prevent the forestry service from cutting down targeted areas, specifically old-growth forests (shaped largely by natural events with little impact from human activities), which present a unique biodiverse ecosystem that cannot simply be replaced by the planting of new trees, as they support literally hundreds of plant and animal species that would otherwise face mass extinction.  In Finland, there are official criteria for protected forests, where forest surveyors monitor a forest for endangered species, but hardly any of the undisturbed natural areas in the younger forests of southern Finland would qualify for protection (HS and YLE: Finnish government to adopt strict definition ...), and will never become mature unless they’re left alone, so do they also need protection?  The authorities say no, leaving those areas open for business, while activists assert that not only endangers but sabotages the options for future generations, who will not have the same luxury of choices as we do today.  90% of Finland’s forests are in acute danger from logging, even though industry officials say forest conservation is a top priority, but the rate at which forests are logged and subsequently replenished is not sustainable, as most forests need three to five centuries to achieve their full potential.  Finland is one of the most heavily forested countries in the world, and the most forested country in Europe.  Three-fourths of Finland is covered with forest, yet that same amount, or 75%, is actively logged by the forest service, with nearly 50 pulp and paper mills and over 200 industrial sawmills, where one in ten Finns are said to be directly or indirectly dependent on the forest industry.  Even in a wealthy, forest-rich nation like Finland, industrial logging is jeopardizing the survival of the country’s last ancient, or old-growth, forests, which are crucial for maintaining biodiversity and the traditional livelihoods of the indigenous Sami people who herd reindeer in those forests.  The boreal forests in the Sami homeland take so long to grow that even small, stunted trees are often hundreds of years old.  Yet, despite calls from scientists and conservationists for increased levels of protection for these old-growth forests, the Finnish government continues to log these rare and vulnerable habitats, threatened with being turned into disposable goods, driven by demand from the country’s massive international paper industry.  Only around 7% of Finnish forests are legally protected, like conservation areas used for recreation, research, and to sustain biodiversity.  The government of Finland owns 25% of Finnish forests, while companies, churches, and other institutions own another 14%, with private citizens owning the remaining 61% of the forests.  Basically that means someone owns every forest and tree in Finland!

The primary subjects of the film are two young women in their twenties, Minka Virtanen and Ida Korhonen, who are part of the country's larger anti-deforestation movement, along with Ville Murmann, Otto Snellman, Anja Pääkkönen, and Otso Piitulainen, focusing on individuals rather than any collective movement, with the filmmaker following them over the course of nearly two years.  The fairy tale aspect of the title suggests the outcome is not yet written, questioning whether it will end happily ever after or in ecological disaster.  While ingrained generational attitudes may be changing, it’s important to note how the public views these young environmentalists, as there’s a lot of prejudice and hatred directed towards them, often viewed as lawbreakers, where there’s a certain amount of fear of activism itself, so spending time with them meeting amongst themselves, having frustrated conversations with their families, or silently communing with nature and expressing their love for the forest allows viewers to see a different side of their lives, avoiding the cliché’s of political cinema, becoming an idyllic ode to the magnificent wonders of the forest balanced against the youthful idealism of the activists.  Part of the allure of the film is offering hypnotic images of the natural world, where time literally stops and you become enveloped by the ancient silences all around you, becoming a sensory experience like no other, creating scenes that are dreamlike and surreal, where accentuating the forest’s beauty also conveys a sense of what we could lose.  These women and their activist partners have a deep appreciation for the unspoiled wilderness, where one of the memorable scenes is watching Minka diving into a pristine lake and swimming in the solitary quiet of the untouched beauty, feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays on her skin, heightening all her senses, which is like a Zen moment, or a spiritual cleansing, expressed with a deep appreciation for what the planet offers, accompanied by ethereal music from Sanna Salmenkallio.  In the busy world we live in, this slowed down moment of freedom allows us to share in that acknowledged gratitude, with the aspect ratio expanding to ‘Scope for this Edenesque sequence.  It’s important to remember how we felt when we were younger, filled with hopes and dreams and a youthful exuberance, where there’s a child-like innocence to their aspirations.  This film captures how this new generation reflects on things, believing it is their responsibility to protect the unprotected, to act as a voice for the voiceless, and to be guardians of the forests.  The fact that they have to strategize their actions like planning military maneuvers or leading troops to battle is a walking contradiction, as confrontations are inevitable, and there’s a history of activism against logging interests, like the Koijärvi Movement, whose members decades earlier were mostly young, where archival documentary footage shows protestors being beaten over the head, violently dragged out of their encampment and arrested by police using strong-arm tactics, where their blatant mistreatment in the early days of activism shows progress has been made.  It’s clear that the Finnish police of today and the judicial system are not as heavy handed as elsewhere, showing a greater understanding, recognizing they have a right to protest, but trespassing on a place of business, blocking the paths of workers attempting to access their work site requires their removal and arrest, but it’s done with so much more restraint, one might even say politely, as no one is getting their heads bashed in or sent to the hospital anymore, and the two sides speak to one another quietly and respectfully.  

With a new Building Act in Finland (New Building Act promotes low-carbon activity) coming into force in 2025, where all companies that supply products in the construction industry will have to report the carbon footprint information of their products, there is a strategic plan of low-carbon industrial construction in place with a target of becoming carbon neutral by 2035, although still investing in nuclear power, so Finland seems to be a country particularly committed to the environment.  With Norway, Denmark, Netherlands, France, Sweden, and parts of Belgium expected to follow suit, there is a changing government mindset when it comes to protecting the environment, implementing systematic changes that affect future generations.  In this regard, both authorities and environmental activists have merged closer together in their goals, but committed activism is a way to help us see what is happening behind the scenes, where words and actions often move in opposite directions, particularly in the male-dominated logging industry, where big forests have been broken down into smaller parts, and change does not come fast enough for these activists, many of whom are women who are simply ignored.  According to the director, 80% of Finns want to protect more forests, so there is a big contradiction between what the public wants and what is actually happening (Virpi Suutari on ONCE UPON A TIME IN A FOREST).  While there are doses of understated humor mixed into the intensity of the actions, both Minka and Ida are seen skiing down a tree-lined slope at night into the quiet of the snowy forest as they approach a giant logging vehicle in an attempt to stop operations from continuing to cut down old-growth trees, (Forest conservation activists return to Lapland logging site).  And while they make their point, the police also make theirs, making arrests after lengthy discussions, imposing escalating fines, where the film actually takes us to the front lines of these little skirmishes, where each side is intimately familiar with the positions of the other.  Yet we also see an earlier discussion with Ida and her grandparents, whose grandfather spent a lifetime working in the forests and vociferously disagrees with her views to let decaying woods remain untouched, asserting “What the hell kind of conservation is it if you just let the trees decay?  You can’t even walk there,” unwilling to acknowledge the now proven value of the natural processes of decay to a healthy ecosystem, reminding her instead to listen to her elders.  Yet she poses a pertinent question, “Is it really unnatural to leave forests in their natural state?”  Later they watch her being interviewed on TV, proud at what they see, though they cringe a bit when she gets arrested.  Similarly, we see Minka picking apples with her grandmother, exposing a clear generational bias, where the older generation thinks differently about the forests than today’s environmentally conscious youth, who believe the urgency of the times calls for desperate measures, as the filmmaker gets behind the social façade and brilliantly humanizes her subjects, and in turn shines a light on the subject matter, as they trudge off to their next planned protest, firmly committed to the ideological path they are on.  The film is a morality play taking place on the human stage that challenges entrenched opinions, bringing us into the heart of these protests, some taking place directly at the Metsä Group mill in the middle of the forests, with the protestors seen living in nearby tents, while other discussions occur in the sterile offices of the managers of the Forest Administration, where some might find it surprising that, unlike elsewhere, these activists are actually involved in the consultation process, moving from protest to negotiation, yet there is a healthy skepticism expressed on both sides as they attempt to hold a meaningful dialogue, but clearly there are sizable rifts between them, with the managers openly resorting to intimidation tactics by confirming their intent to sue the protestors.  Faced with a traditional culture that considers the timber industry a base of the country’s economic prosperity, movements have emerged of young people who claim the need to protect Finland’s natural spaces with more forceful measures and question the sustainability of an economy based on the destruction of forests.