Atlantics (Atlantique)

Director and co-writer Mati Diop 

Mati Diop on the set with Claire Mathon behind the camera  

ATLANTICS (Atlantique)        B+               

France  Senegal  Belgium  (105 mi)  d: Mati Diop 

The niece of Senegalese director Djibril Diop Mambéty, Mati Diop is the actress playing the daughter in the utterly gorgeous Claire Denis film 2010 Top Ten Films of the Year: #1 35 Shots of Rum, expanding her own short film ATLANTIQUES (2009) to a full-length feature, becoming the first black woman in history invited to the Cannes Film Festival’s competition, awarded the Grand Prix (2nd Place) for her efforts.  Beautifully shot by cinematographer Claire Mathon, who also shot Céline Sciamma’s distinctively eloquent Portrait of a Lady On Fire (Portrait de la jeune fille en feu) (2019), both films were shot on separate continents, with this film balancing the devastation of a global migrant crisis driving men to sea in search of work from the shores of Africa to Spain while revealing the effect this has on the women at home waiting for them, becoming a haunting love story and a mythical portrait of female empowerment filled with supernatural spirits seeking to avenge the economic injustice that drives the central narrative, while at the same time Diop accentuates the cultural traditions of Senegalese cinema through the inventions of uncommon visual motifs of mysticism, where a modernist strain is part of Senegal’s post-independence legacy.  Unfortunately, Netflix picked up the distribution rights to the film, which means more people will watch this film on television, even their smart phones, and other small-screen venues instead of theaters that glorify the magnificent colors in Africa.  As in her previous film short, A THOUSAND SUNS (2013), Diop opens the film with a tribute to her uncle’s legendary African film TOUKI BOUKI (1973) as a herd of cattle are seen being led through the busy streets of Dakar (with one young man in the dust wearing an Eastern Chicago tee-shirt, something that doesn’t exist, yet a reminder that the black market will sell you anything), offering the perspective of ordinary Africans in Senegal, quickly eying a group of young men working on a scaffold of a major development project, viewed from a distance as a giant futuristic skyscraper (digitalized) soaring high above the rest.  It’s here we’re introduced to Souleiman (Ibrahim Traoré), just one of the many construction workers who have gone several months without pay, lining up at the office for what promises to be the first paycheck in three months, but once again they are left emptyhanded.  Watching them all disperse, sitting in the back of trucks on the long journey back home, the look of disgust on their faces is evident.  

 

The film quickly shifts to the lives of young Senegalese women, one in particular, 17-year old Ada (Mame Bineta Sané), an especially beautiful middle-class girl who meets Souleiman, their eyes transfixed, both madly in love, finding a solitary space, locked in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings, Souleiman is unsettled by the circumstances at work, yet offers her his necklace that he wears, and while he seems on the verge of telling her something important, she scampers off in the moonlight, loving him unconditionally, expecting to see him later that night, yet her devout Islamic family has arranged for her to be married to Omar (Babacar Sylla), the overprivileged son of a wealthy businessman in just ten days.  Seemingly unconcerned by this dilemma, she sneaks out of her bedroom heading for a late night beachside dance club where many of her girlfriends are joining other boys from the construction crew, all dressed up for the occasion, with the director capturing the giddy camaraderie of young girls in the throes of love, where this matters above all else, holding each other close, sharing passionate kisses and taking long walks along the beach.  But when she arrives the place is empty, with no boys in sight, where the girls are heartbroken to learn that Souleiman joined a group of others to set sail on a small boat for the shores of Spain in search of jobs.  The film eloquently reveals the stark economic differences between the casual realities of the rich, spoiled by a largesse of riches while consumed by luxury, and the world of the underprivileged who are willing to risk it all and face unspeakable dangers, with the young lovers struggling to find their place in the world.  This economic desperation has plagued young African men for generations, where the rolling sea is a constant presence in the film, as if beckoning a life of freedom and prosperity if crossed, yet young Africans still drown packed together in rickety boats trying to cross the Straits of Gibraltar to Europe every day, which is apparently what happens here, as they receive no word from the men, with reports that their boat capsized leaving them all dead.  This is literally a cry of despair, rooted in the economic desperation of ordinary men seeking a better life, with tragic results.  Stunned by the revelations, Ada is devastated, yet she becomes the central focus of the film, subject to the customs of an Islamic marriage in West Africa, leading to a glamorous wedding celebration that spares no expense, lavishly decorated in an upscale hotel, with all the girls taking selfies on the oversized opulence of the white wedding bed, yet Ada, dressed immaculately in white as well, shows little interest.  While others eat, drink, and get carried away by the lavish décor, she basically sleepwalks through the whole proceedings, showing disinterest, almost as if she’s not there, but her body goes through the motions, but she quickly exits prematurely, as a fire in the hotel (igniting at that wedding bed) sends everyone scrambling out into the street in panic mode.

Ada is initially viewed as an accomplice, with Issa (Amadou Mbow), a young police detective, becoming obsessed with her guilt, believing Souleiman is somehow behind it, with rumors that he returned, reportedly seen by others, but there is no evidence.  Instead Diop starts introducing uncommon aspects to the film, as the detective starts suffering from heat stroke, sweating uncontrollably, barely able to breathe, while the widows of the lost men start showing up on the doorstep of the wealthy construction owner, Mr. Ndiaye (Diankou Sembene), demanding their money, given ghostly configurations, as if visiting from the spirit world, yet their haunting presence spooks the owner, unaware of what to think, caught completely off-guard.  This film pays respect to Islamic customs and beliefs, which includes a local belief in djinn, spirits that can take human form, but they possess unworldly powers.  This love story leads to a police investigation that takes a strange turn, as suddenly those involved start suffering from inexplicable maladies as they pursue the case, veering into the supernatural, succumbing to forces greater than their own, which remain an unexplained mystery that continues throughout the film.  Suffused with melancholy, with most of the scenes shot at night, Diop never loses sight of the prevailing cultural views in Senegal, where Ada remains confined and restricted by a society that limits her freedom, with Omar’s family subjecting her to a “virginity test,” questioning whether she is worthy of their son, making sure she will not bring unwanted “shame” into the family.  While she passes the test, she jettisons Omar and his family arrogance from her life, refusing to have anything to do with him, as her heart still belongs to Suleiman.  But Ada’s grief is not hers alone, as there’s a community of women who are dealing with the same thing, each one abandoned by love and fate.  Diop captures the emotional emptiness that comes with their absence, with swirling green lights passing over Ada’s face from the strobe light at the bar, mixing with Al Qadiri’s ethereal score, while static images are seen of the empty rooms once inhabited by the boys.  Paying particular attention to African youth, Ada mixes with more traditional friends, like the conservative, hijab-wearing Mariama (Mariama Gassama), while employed by a fiercely independent woman, the more liberated Dior (Nicole Sougou), as she ends up working as a barmaid at that beachside nightclub.  Among the more triumphant scenes is a long walk along the beach that Ada takes, evoking genuine sensuality with the poetic rhythms of the ocean, yet confirming her transition to a woman, claiming her own identity, empowered by a newly developing confidence in herself, boldly gazing straight into the camera, fully capable of living her life as she intends, effusing the film with a quietly seductive mystery.    

Personal Shopper

Swedish painter Hilma af Klint

 

Director Olivier Assayas at Cannes

 

PERSONAL SHOPPER                    B+                  

France  Germany  (105 mi)  2016  ‘Scope  d:  Olivier Assayas           Official site

It’s important to remember that Assayas was a painter before he became a filmmaker, where the remarkable fluidity of his film style may be attributed to his ability to visualize ahead of time the exact look he wants onscreen, where a rush of images resemble an improvisatory style of painting, perhaps accentuating the spontaneity of the moment, using a contemplative, stream-of-conscious narrative that comprises a radically modernist film style, at times somber and reflective, while at other times feeling like an assault to the senses.  Here he resorts to an old-fashioned, haunted house genre, conjuring up dead spirits and ghosts from the past, which at times is amusing, like an homage to Hitchcock, a filmmaker having fun and playing with the art of his craft, yet also delves into the horror genre, where fear and existential angst create an absorbing interior dread.  At the center of the picture, and in nearly every shot, is the young protagonist Maureen (Kristen Stewart, who seems to inhabit the role), an American in Paris, a psychic medium who believes she is capable of communicating with a spirit world.  Some in the audience will giggle, constantly whisper amongst themselves, and simply never get past this point, as they will find the premise too preposterous, too far-fetched and unbelievable, especially the use of cheesy CGI effects in an otherwise realistic film.  While the film was booed at Cannes, this is largely because a prominent French filmmaker made a film starring a tabloid celebrated American actress where the predominate language spoken is English, yet others, to be sure, are among this camp of ardent disbelievers.  Assayas, however, has always been on the cutting edge of new technology, prominently featuring an iPhone as a secondary character, where the narrative is advanced by rapid text conversations from someone identified as “Unknown,” which gives the film something instantly recognizable, while also adding an element of mystery and intrigue.  Using a film-within-a-film device, Maureen becomes riveted by watching a documentary piece on her phone about Swedish abstract painter Hilma af Klint (1862 – 1944), (Hilma af Klint - A Pioneer of Abstraction (eng.sub) - YouTube, 22:01), who claimed to be a clairvoyant, who was told by spirit voices to paint “on the astral plane,” whose work is derived from mysticism and the awareness of higher levels of consciousness, an aspect that is currently being marginalized in an increasingly materialistic world.  Af Klint is another psychic believer who conducted séances with other artists, whose occult-inspired paintings were among the first representations of abstract art, so she refused to publicly show these paintings during her lifetime, knowing they would not be understood, as they were believed to be decades before their time, released twenty years after her death, as stipulated by her will, where in an interesting parallel, the creativity behind these paintings was inspired by “unknown” forces.  

Like the last Assayas film, 2014 Top Ten List #3 Clouds of Sils Maria, the director’s first collaboration with Stewart, she plays another disaffected assistant to an overbearing star.  While she played a secondary role in the earlier film, here she is the centerpiece, where we see everything through her eyes.  While the film is comprised with on-the-street, cinéma vérité moments of Kristen Stewart zipping around Paris and London on a moped picking out ultra chic designer outfits and Cartier jewelry for an haut couture fashion model star who is rarely ever seen, Kyra (Nora von Waldstätten), whose domineering reputation precedes her, where the selfish conceits of her narcissistic boss are unnerving, making her a pain to work for, placing her in a fully subservient and demeaning role, yet the idea of having the freedom to work with designers, choosing their latest creations, and having them at your beck and call, as her boss is too busy and too recognizable to perform these duties herself, offers a kind of titillating luxury most of us will never know, flittering in and out of the high life, dropping off accessories, having access to often empty upscale apartments where she’s free to imagine herself in a parallel existence leading a life of pampered indulgence.  But the film is not about class difference, though in stark contrast, Maureen runs around in jeans, T-shirts and old sweaters, instead one of the visceral thrills she gets is secretly trying on her boss’s clothes, something she’s explicitly forbidden to do, but operating completely on her own, almost never running into her boss, she sets her own boundaries.  With occasional skype calls from a boyfriend abroad (Ty Olwin), who is consumed by a high tech security instillation in Oman, Maureen makes frequent visits to her sister Lara (Sigrid Bouaziz), who seems to keep her grounded.  When not shopping for Kyra, she spends her free time communing with the dead, hoping for a sign from her recently deceased twin brother, Lewis, as both share the same congenital heart condition, which caused his sudden death, and both are psychic mediums, having made a pact that the first one to die would send a recognizable sign.  This aspect of the film has sinister implications, especially when the wrong spirits show up, as they are often angry and incensed at finding themselves summoned by strangers, where the idea of wandering endlessly in the spirit world does not sound inviting.  Because she is a medium, however, she’s able to understand these mix-ups, a skill viewers may not share, leaving them perplexed by the cinematic trickery involved, where the baffling weirdness of ghosts onscreen is still relatively shocking in arthouse cinema. 

Assayas shared the Best Direction prize at Cannes with Romanian director Christian Mungiu for Graduation (Bacalaureat) (2015), two very different styles of film, yet both are eerily distinctive at tapping into modern era anxieties and discontent, where Maureen is not only trying to come to terms with her brother’s death, exposing herself to phantoms of the spirit world, but leads such a detached existence, disconnected from her own employer, always missing each other, instead leaving each other notes, rarely having any contact, she is also targeted by an unknown caller on her smartphone, all but contaminating an indispensable part of her existence, who seems intimately familiar with her every move, initially suspecting it was her brother from beyond the grave, but it leads to more menacing implications, as if someone is stalking her and watching her every move, where an unsettling relationship, of sorts, develops over a prolonged sequence of text messages that leads to a great deal of confusion and fear, feeling completely exposed, even ashamed, where there are dangerous forces on the loose.  This powerful sense of emptiness and loss follows her everywhere, which may be associated with her enveloping grief, but is further exacerbated by her entry into the supernatural, where all the forces align in painting a complex portrait of contemporary unease, becoming a meditation on loss, but also jealousy, identity, and desire, where Maureen loses all sense of herself.  One of the more bizarre sequences finds Maureen alone in Kyra’s apartment, as she is away on business, allowing her to try on various outfits, changing places with her employer, perhaps reminiscent of Jean Genet’s The Maids, yet the eerie music on the soundtrack is Marlene Dietrich singing a bleak Viennese folksong about how Death doesn’t differentiate, as it cuts down the rich and poor alike, Marlene Dietrich "Das Hobellied" 1952 (Feathers 2/2). - YouTube (2:02), which opens the door to darker, more ominous forces that creep ever closer, brilliantly conveyed by a series of unread texts unraveling in waves, that develop a more threatening tone with every new line, instantly filling her with dread, feeling exposed, as if she is on the precipice of the abyss.  With the phone itself becoming an instrument of horror, violence ensues, though not as one might suspect, as technology is a tool that seems to have robbed our souls of greater meaning in life, leaving us even more disconnected and alone, a vulnerable and precarious position, to be sure.  Caught in a labyrinth of fear, she makes her escape, scampering off to Oman, where the specifics of her detailed instructions out into the hinterlands lead her farther and farther away from any recognizable signs of civilization, where she may as well be in an altogether different universe, like a portal to the unknown (where there is probably no cellphone connection).  Maureen continually places herself in haunted space, contemplating her experience afterwards, though by the end whether she is liberated or not remains an open question, yet there are inevitably lingering doubts, larger existential questions that go unanswered, but viewers are likely to be caught off-guard while the film searches for answers about the unknown mysteries of the modern world, including a driving, often irrational need to fill a void of emptiness in our human existence.