LFM Reviews Generation Maidan @ The 2015 Portland Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. After being kidnapped from Ukraine and illegally imprisoned in Russia, Oleg Sentsov was just sentenced to twenty years, even after his accusers in Putin’s kangaroo court recanted their testimony. Sentsov is famous, so just think what is happening to the less well-known Ukrainian civic leaders rounded-up Gestapo-style by Russia. Pavel Yurov does not have to imagine. The Euromaidan-supporting playwright was tortured and imprisoned by Russian-backed separatists for seventy days. Yurov is one of many young Ukrainians who tell their stories in Andrew Tkach’s Generation Maidan: a Year of Revolution and War, produced in conjunction with the Ukrainian Babylon’13 filmmaking cooperative, which screens during the 2015 Portland Film Festival.

In late 2013, Ukrainians of all walks of life finally tired of the corrupt Yanukovych regime when the elected autocrat pulled out of negotiations with the EU to curry favor with his Russian patrons. Initially, a small group of protestors gathered in Maidan Square, but the outrage caused Yanukovych’s harsh response would ultimately attract hundreds of thousands of peaceful protestors. This process would repeat. Tragically, Yanukovych would use every dirty trick in the book against the movement, before settling on undisguised brute force.

There is no question the Maidan protests were a confusing time, but Tkach does an excellent job of establishing the historical timeline, step by step, while also capturing a visceral sense of what it was like to be under fire from Yanukovych’s notorious riot police, the Berkut. Some footage is absolutely jaw-dropping, such as the incident in which a genuine Maidan protestor placed himself between the armored Berkut line and a gang a balaclava donning agent provocateurs, “attacking” the police to provide them a phony justification for a full scale crack-down.

Sadly, the Western media has been too prone to accept these crude manipulations peddled by the Russian state media, but such video helps set the record straight. Unfortunately, the subsequent war precipitated by Russia and its separatist clients constitute even murkier waters for media, due to the nature of civil wars. However, anyone should be able to understand the implications of Yurov’s harrowing experiences.

From "Generation Maidan."

Like Dmitriy Khavin’s Quiet in Odessa, Generation Maidan constitutes real reporting from Ukraine at a time when it is in short supply. It also captures the spirit of the Maidan movement, on personal, cultural, and generational levels. Perhaps the character of Maidan is best represented by Alexandra Morozova, who tirelessly played piano to raise the morale of Maidan activists. Fittingly, her music also serves as the film’s soundtrack, giving it a great deal more class than your typical battlefield dispatches.

Clearly, Tkach and his crew put themselves in harm’s way to tell these stories. In fact, his cameraman recorded the first Maidan death while he himself was receiving medical treatment. (Of course, it is much easier to just repurpose a Russian press release from the hotel bar.) Their images of state-sanctioned brutality and military aggression will make your blood run cold, but the resolution of young, idealist Ukrainians is inspiring. It is also worth noting all proceeds from the documentary will go to the Ukrainian Prosthetic Assistant Project. Highly recommended, Generation Maidan screened at this year’s Portland Film Festival, where it just had its American fest debut.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on September 6th, 2015 at 8:00pm.

LFM Reviews Animated Shorts @ Cinema on the Edge

By Joe Bendel. Over the years, the CCP has been overtly hostile to many expressions of regional and national cultural tradition, but nowhere more so than in occupied Tibet. Therefore, programming shorts that bring Tibetan folktales to life through animation inspired by Thangka painting would not endear a film festival to the Party authorities. Not surprisingly, the Beijing Independent Film Festival did so anyway. Fittingly, two of Bai Bin’s Tibetan films anchor a program of animated shorts, which screens as part of the Cinema on the Edge retrospective to the fearlessly indie fest.

There is no question Bai Bin’s The Hunter and the Skeleton is the head-and-shoulders high point of the animated block. In this ancient tale, a hunter rashly heads off in search of game, despite the shaman’s warning. It turns out, this is an inauspicious time for such pursuits, because a demonic skeleton has been hunting hunters. Yet, for some reason, the fiend likes this hunter. First he gives the man a seven day extension before eating him. Then he offers the man a deal—he will be spared if he leads the skeleton to his village. Stalling for time, the man will have to defeat his new “friend” with only the help of his talisman and his trusty hunting dog.

There are real stakes in Skeleton, as well as a rather macabre sensibility, which is why it is even grabbier than Bai Bin’s environmentally-themed An Apple Tree. In both films, the vibrant Thangka colors and stylized figures are unlike anything you have seen in animation before. These are unusually striking films that tap into centuries-old mojo. Any self-respecting animation fan needs to check them out.

In contrast, several of the other animated selections are much less accessible to mainstream animation fans. Zhong Su’s Perfect Conjugal Bliss and Ding Shiwei’s Double Act play a double game, contrasting and conflating images of the authoritarian state with post-industrial decay and class stratification, respectively. Visually, they are often surreal, which helps confuse the censors and maintain plausible deniability.

This is even more the case with Zhang Yipin’s How, a sort of distaff, dystopian Little Nemo, and Qiu Anxiong’s abstract, avant-garde environmental apocalyptic fable, The New Book of Mountains and Seas Part 2. While Zhou Xiaohu’s Mirror Room holds considerably fewer political implications, the sexualized gender-bending imagery is even more likely to provoke the Puritanical authorities’ wrath.

From "Family Reunion."

After Bai Bin’s film, the next most aesthetically and emotionally engaging selection is easily Chen Li-hua’s Family Reunion. Following the trials and tribulations of A-mei, an aboriginal migrant worker, it too celebrates regional cultural traditions, while dramatizing the challenges faced by itinerant laborers.

While somewhat uneven, the collected independent animated shorts are often challenging both in terms of visual style and thematic substance. However, the preponderance of ambiguous narrative forms eventually blurs the constituent films together. Still, the program is well worth seeing for the wonderfully rich and distinctive work of Bai Bin and Chen Li-hua. Recommended for connoisseurs of animation and experimental film, Cinema on the Edge’s animated film program screens this Thursday (9/10) at the Museum of Chinese in America (MoCA).

Posted on September 6th, 2015 at 8:00pm.