romería (w&d carla simón, w. neus pipó simón)

Simón’s auto-ficción tale of a young woman getting to know her deceased father’s lost family and their drug-running secrets evolves gently, punctuated by the revelations Marina gleans along the way. It’s careful pacing leads towards an oneiric, staged finale, which shifts away from the steady naturalism of the rest of the film, a naturalism exacerbated by the frequent use of Marina’s, an aspiring filmmaker, camcorder shots. Even if there is an underwater sequence in the dream sequence which matches an earlier underwater sequence when Marina dives into the Atlantic waters off the coast of Vigo. This artful use of imagery helps to give the tale added depth. In a way it feels reminiscent of the work of Mark Jenkin, just as the rugged Galician coastline, which features prominently, echoes the rugged Cornish coastline. Both directors have carved out their niche on the edge of conventional cinema, allowing their personal aesthetic and themes to percolate into films which pay little more than lip-service to conventional narrative models. Marina’s journey is a slow, roundabout trip, featuring Galician grannies and heroin nights. It’s a film with capas that accompany the viewer as they follow the footsteps of Marina, who is in turn walking in the footsteps of her lost parents. 

alcarràs (w&d carla simón, w. arnau vilaró)

The Spanish interior has been hollowed out. No-one wants to live in the countryside. Villages lie empty. The old ways of life are withering. Simón’s film looks at a rural Catalan family, and by implication, community, whose land where they have farmed peaches for generations is about to be lost. Small farming communities cannot compete with the big boys, and the land has more value as a solar farm, as the brother of Quimet, the head of the family, acknowledges, joining the other side, to Quimet’s disgust. Simón filters her narrative through the members of the family. The son who grows marijuana in the fields, the older daughter whose carefree life is coming to an end, the youngest daughter, too young to understand what’s happening, the mother who holds things together, the grandfather who is steeped in regret and the paterfamilias who rages against the dying of the light. It’s not hard to see why the film has proved to be so popular and received awards. It’s a doleful but vibrant lament for a Europe that is being consumed by high capitalism, along with all its traditions and values. However, and there Is a however, Simon notes the presence of the African fruit pickers who make the industry viable. These characters sketch around the edge of the film, their ghostly presence a reminder that what is happening in the peach tree fields of Alcarràs is nothing more than an extension of what is happening around the world, from Mexico to Mozambique. It is also what is happening to the film industry, which much as it might lament the passing of the small scale, the artisanal, is part of that process. The editing is superb, allowing sequences to build and then cutting abruptly to the next beat, driving the multi-person story towards its growling conclusion which will bring them all together as the past is literally ripped to shreds.